Close, but no Cigar!

Not quite lost in translation...
somewhere around Hurstville.

Dirt

Hey, how good do I look on this little beauty, hmm????

My good riding buddies at IR have one by one gone off road and what used to be an almost regular weekend road ride turned into a maybe bi-monthly...boring! They really got into it in a big way and I wondered what all the fuss was about.

At a recent Loftus BreakfastTorque meeting I picked up a flyer from the HART stand, a Motorcycle riding skill development organisation, which listed an Off Road introduction amongst other really useful courses.

I always freak when it comes to dirt roads on my sport bike and my top speed hovers around the 40km/h mark (if that!), making it a lonely and scary trip once all other group members have flown past me at at least twice that.

Shortly after that meeting my friend Lindy visited me and we both agreed that we needed to have a go at this. Once we'd booked it, I started to get all panicky and with a month to go took myself off to the Gym to send those hibernating muscles a reminder message: it is time to be on guard.

Today was the day.

The alarm went off at 5:30 this morning and I was excited and scared at the same time. After all, people don't just take up dirtbike riding at my age! And there are a couple of reasons for that...my lack of fitness and flexibility and then there is the reaction time...or better the lack of it.

It was a good two hour drive to get me there. It had been raining during the night and we knew to expect 'The Big Wet' on the trail.

We soon realised that we needed to forget all we knew about cornering and handling bikes. It is such a strange feel to actually lean out of the curve and then to stick your leg out into it.

HART at StIves in Sydney's North sports 42 acres of 'playground' with a variety of tracks to suit every level of rider skill. As I mentioned earlier, our track was pretty wet and the puddles quite deep. As time passed we made a bit of a mess of the circuit and things got quite slippery, but Paul, our instructor did equip us with the necessary skills to cope with that.

First things frst, we got the talk, then we got the bikes and then we got the ride. When it actually came to doing the dirt bit, it really hit me that I am about to push my fear boundary and immediately tensed up and forgot all I had been taught, but it did not seem to take long until we made good progress.

Once we got going along the track, Paul took us to a 5 meter high, almost vertical, rocky and slippery incline, got us to stop the bikes, take our helmets off and pointed at it. Our eyes widened and jaws dropped. For a moment there was stunned silence, then a gasp of relief when he laughed out loud as he saw our reaction and said "just kidding- we'll leave this one for advanced students".

There were only four of us and Paul's teaching strategy of demonstration and active, personal feedback worked really well. I enjoyed his positive attitude and relaxed manner. He's been doing it for seven years and certainly enjoys his job.

Well, at first I was trying to avoid the rocks and roots on the trail (as you'd do when you don't know what you are doing), but soon enough I was seeking the thrill of mastering the bumps. It did not take long for me to stand up and whooping across the crests before the puddles and following the ruts and using the camber to get me around sweepers quicker. Fun...fun...fun!




...and over lunch at 'Torque', Concord Frasers, a Sydney Harley Dealership, we decided that we'd do the next level of those courses some time soon.

What a thrill!


A great day had by all and I am still smiling...and mighty proud of myself.

Ps: perhaps before next time I'll do a couple more push-ups at the Gym...

More Rain...

December is here in Australia and we expect to enjoy the Beach, the pool or take the bike out for an afternoon spurt, but oh no! Not here. It has been pouring for three days and there is no end in sight.

Which makes me think about gear.

Back in the 'good' old days I used to own a high quality set of sailing overalls, which were lost somewhere roadside in Italy and sorely missed ever after. They were signal orange and certainly did not leak. Sure, they were a little bulky to carry (I am certain that's the reason why they got lost), but they fitted well in all the right places and they were made to be seen.

When I first got my Ninjalista some six years ago, I bought myself another wet weather overall. It was my Rjays yellow and black one piece and didn't I cop flak for wearing that thing...(rolls eyes).

"it looks like a parachute...yellow submarine...bumble bee..."

It was a great suit, especially after I had asked my daughter to give it a bit of a wipe down and she happened to be a little heavy handed on the detergent. The next time I had to use it was on a trip South through the Reefton Spur and boy did I have a great time sliding my bum from side to side in those tight 35s...it seemed effortless. (until the next day when those leg muscles started to re-introduce themselves :()

But, it started to leak where it counts and where most of them give in under pressure: the crotch.

So I went to MCA to buy me another one...ummm... "discontinued, but there is a range of colours here, hunney" says this young Westie chick and she points at a rack filled with black and gray, gray, black, dark blue, black with a bit of red, but no bright colours at all.

Hello! Wakie, wakey! Isn't high visibility a priority anymore?

I'd hate to blend nicely into the background in the rain on my bike. Don't you?

So why do they discontinue something that works and replace it with the dull stuff?

Good luck to you fashionistas!

IR Snowy Ride 2010

Four days of great weather, great roads, great riders = bliss!


The hotel we stayed at in Orbost



Falls Creek vista




Falls Creek parking lot regroup




Roadside picture near Mt Hotham




Thumbs Up at Mt Hotham




Omeo- early morning fog




Mt Hotham tunnel




Same T at the same place one year later (Taralga)




The River Road





Jindabine Lake at sunrise












and one more ... this one was shot by my buddy Rocky.



and here is one Damien took of the i98 CONVOY riders(click on it to see the whole picture)




and the coolest video of all, directed by Damien and starring...moi

Pink Ribbon Ride 2010

http://www.pinkribbonride.com/


You have guessed right: it rained!

Unfortunately I missed the final estimate of attendee numbers, but if I had my uneducated guess it would have been around the 300 mark.

By 8 am it was still bucketing down outside my window and I was uhmm-ing and ah-ing whether I should get out there and brave the elements. After all I was going to help out! But hell...I checked the weather bom site and was looking at an array of colourful patches, whilst being optimistic and thinking that I might even miss them as I was headed West.

No such luck.

By the time I got to the venue I only just caught the start of the ride, as I had got lost twice before I finally decided to stop and gave the navigator a go...

I should say here that the event was absolutely well organised and they even had a pdf file with a map I did download, printed and left safely on my kitchen table. Doh!

Did it ever stop raining? I may have missed it for all the spray from bikes and four wheeled oncoming traffic on the wet, wet road.

By the time we got to the pub at Picton I wanted to pull out the camera, but it was soo wet that I did not dare to keep shooting. So I followed the lead of others who just wanted to get back to Club Marconi to get a hot meal and a cuppa. However, when I finally got all the gear back on and was ready to go, the bulk of the riders had vanished in a Westerly direction.

Not long and I spotted a couple of riders I had recognised from the Picton pub, one of them sporting a couple of pink ribbons and the other had the enviable red plate 'R6'. I pulled up to R6 and checked if they were going back to the club and he nodded. Cool... no need to get that Navigator out again.

The three of us rode along in formation and after about 20km R6 turned off to the right and 'pink ribbon man' kept going straight ahead. Hmmm...what now? A split second later I had made the decision to follow pink ribbon man, which, 5km later started to feel like a mistake. I pulled up next to him as we rode along Northern Road and I called out to him. He smiled politely and nodded. I was relieved.

5km later, at another roundabout I thought better of it and stopped next to him. I asked again: ARE you going back to the club?
He looked perplexed and then realised what I had done. He shook his head and called out: "No! I'm on my way home!"

Arrrrrgh!

I had just almost followed this complete stranger home and had no idea at all (nor did he) how to get back to the club. Bugger!

That's when I started to really feel the Wet.

By the time I got there I had a puddle in both of my once 'waterproof' boots and my wet weather gear was soaked. My hands were stained black from my summer gloves and my hair showed nothing of its early morning bounciness. It looked as flat as I felt.
I must have appeared like some wayward astronaut with my helmet still on and dripping like something the cat dragged in when I approached the Club Marconi reception.

A petite stiletto clad faux blonde, wearing a lovely skirt suit and a smile, took one look at me and asked whether I'd like to first get changed in the bathroom before I'd sign in.

Yessss, thank you! Thank YOU!

By the time I had emerged from the ladies powder room I was laden with all the wet gear and as I walked towards Hayley (a PRR committee member), my boots sounded like 'squish-squish, squish-squish' with every step I took. At last I got to the counter, my hands still stiff and cold and shaking, and ever-so-sweetly Hayley filled out my ID slip for me, whilst I signed it left handed... great effort Hayley!!!! We'd make a good team...
Harley Davidson is a major sponsor this year and one person actually raised about $12000plus all on his own. Good on you!

Tex and Bundy

My personal 'winning' choice of 'best dressed male'

It was a good day.
Amongst many others I got to meet up with BIG AL, my Ulysses riding buddy of Ducati fame and we headed back to the coast together.

That was my first ride back in the country and I felt right at home.

I seem to recall someone addressing the crowd and saying something like:

"It was a BATTLE...
and you were all warriors" (hear, hear!)


By the time I got back my man had run me a bath... mmmmmh! :))