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13-05-2008, 01:31pm
I'm apologising in advance for the length of this ride report, feel free to skip through and just look at the pretty pictures. Friends who are not riders are laughing, they think it looks a bit like a 'where's wally' game, there is a hayabusa lurking in the bottom of almost every photo. They don't understand that the judicious application of a Hayabusa, makes even the most PEDESTRIAN of photos magic!
What a ride. My 4 000kms ride to Broken Hill turned into a 10 500km odyssey through the Central Desert, taking in The Northern Territory (which is far more beautiful than I expected), Alice, The Rock, Cober Pedy, Rockhampton, Port Pirie and a place called Orroroo. The best part about Orroroo was asking the locals how to pronounce the name. They would get a slightly hunted look in their eyes and make a noise just like a dog asking a question. It was TOPS! I entertained myself ALL NIGHT at the Orroroo Central Pub.
The original plan was to take three weeks and have a leisurely ride on my own to Broken Hill, back to Adelaide, taking in Murray Bridge and The Great Ocean Road, the ferry to Sorrento from Geelong and back to Tathra and up the mountains to home. I was in a petrol station in Dubbo when I bumped into three people on bikes. We struck up the usual motorcycle conversation, 'where are you going? how wet is your gear? how fast have you gotten that thing up to?' the usual. We were discussing where we were going and I said I had a rough plan, but I had a map and a few weeks off work so I was just going to see where it took me. 'Every been to Ayres Rock?' one of them asked. I said no, so in the way of all motorcyclists, in the time it took us to fuel up I was off to the rock with three complete strangers. I had Captain Sensible at home, my good friend Ingrid who was making sure I was safe every night so she'd know where to come looking for me if I disappeared off the face of the earth. When I confessed to her that I had been picked up by three strangers in a petrol station and was going to the Northern Territory, she made me photograph their license plates and get their full names and contact details IN CASE THEY WERE AXE MURDERERS!!!!
So it became Emma, Colin, Steve and I. We quickly settled into our riding style. I'd bootle along being polite until I saw a corner up ahead, then I'd let the Hayabusa open up. Steve said he could always tell when I was about to shoot past, the whole front of the bike rears up when I hit the throttle.
We made our way up to Rockhampton where we were meeting the rest of the crowd. On the way I got asked for drugs in a small country town (wrong kind of bikie dude), went to the dawn service at Gladstone and almost had a Norman Bates moment with a guy who owned a hotel in a place called Tanum Sands. DO NOT STOP THERE UNLESS YOU ARE OUT OF FUEL AND YOU HAVE NO CHOICE!!!
That night in Rockhampton, I found out that I was on a prostate cancer charity run, and I had the t-shirt and stubby cooler to prove it!
So many ridiculous things happen when you are on a bikie run with over 70 bikes, most of them Harleys but with two VERY obvious Hayabusas lurking in the middle. Early on I met up with a bloke called Tex, who was on a copper busa. Tex, Bundy and I became known as The Min Min lights because the other riders said they would see a flash of two lights, WAAAYYYY off in the distance and then suddenly, WHOOP WHOOP as two Hayabusas in full flight shot past. This was particularly amusing as I was riding full throttle, and Tex was doing it with his best mate Bundy on the tank.
We made friends with the cops in a variety of town. Somehow being on a prostate charity run seems to get you out of a lot of the usual trouble. I met a lovely police man at a place called Gin Gin, who pulled into the carpark 10 mins after me with his lights flashing. I immediately (to ward off any trouble), bounced over, told him about our charity run and was VERY charming. As he left, he called me over and said, 'Madam. If you go that way, you have a clear run for the next 30kms'. EXCELLENT! Tex and Bundy picked up the lovely young female police officer in Winton, so we sat up drinking til the early hours with her. She said that at 8am the following morning, she would be doing paperwork and would be making coffee for her sargent. GOOD SMALL TOWN POLICING ALL ROUND!!
In Mt Isa,we went on a pub crawl and rode the bikes through a bar and Tex and Bundy made the front page of the Mt Isa local paper. I slept under the stars in the desert, got a tattoo, was attacked by an emu and saw a dingo sing. SERIOUSLY, how does it get any better than THAT!
The rock was beautiful, as was the Devils Marbles. The colour of the rocks really bought out the beauty of the copper colour scheme. Anyone who thought that scheme was the least attractive, would have to rethink it after seeing it in the desert. The purple/black just looked MEAN.
It took me three days of solid riding to get home from the rock. I hit a galah (going a little faster than I should), but luckily got it in the shoulder. In saying that, I think I blacked out for a moment and sat up on the wrong side of the road with dead arm and no way of using the clutch to slow down. I finally stalled the bike in top gear and stopped, realising I was half-way between Cober Pedy and Woomera (officially BF Nowheresville) and I thought I had a broken arm. The Grey Nomads are one of the funniest things about the outback, so I figured they'd turn up with lemonade and sympathy at any moment. I survived the strike, but couldn't use my arm for two days and have a truly spectacular bruise now to show off!
The Hay Plain redefined FEATURELESS, but used a surprising amount of fuel, but the belting cross wind must have added to my consumption. The fuel consuption on the trip related directly to the speeds we were doing. Tex and I managed to use an entire tank of fuel in 177kms, but at other times (when we had to be careful), we could get well over 300 out of a tank. I put the Pilot Power Roads on and they were the PERFECT tyre. I estimate I still have 10 000kms left on them, and that is after the heat and extreme speeds of the outback. I'm putting them in the shed for the next big road trip, because DAMN they are scary around town. A lot of the guys on the trip thought we were mad for doing what we did on the busa, but it just reminded me it is the perfect bike. It does the snowys, a track day and something like this. I don't think it gets any better.
The next trip is going to be up and around. I figure I could get around the whole thing in six weeks to two months. Who is with me? I think a small, fast moving group would be tops, I'm thinking of going in late August early Sept. I might even try to get some sponsorship.
HEIDI xxx
What a ride. My 4 000kms ride to Broken Hill turned into a 10 500km odyssey through the Central Desert, taking in The Northern Territory (which is far more beautiful than I expected), Alice, The Rock, Cober Pedy, Rockhampton, Port Pirie and a place called Orroroo. The best part about Orroroo was asking the locals how to pronounce the name. They would get a slightly hunted look in their eyes and make a noise just like a dog asking a question. It was TOPS! I entertained myself ALL NIGHT at the Orroroo Central Pub.
The original plan was to take three weeks and have a leisurely ride on my own to Broken Hill, back to Adelaide, taking in Murray Bridge and The Great Ocean Road, the ferry to Sorrento from Geelong and back to Tathra and up the mountains to home. I was in a petrol station in Dubbo when I bumped into three people on bikes. We struck up the usual motorcycle conversation, 'where are you going? how wet is your gear? how fast have you gotten that thing up to?' the usual. We were discussing where we were going and I said I had a rough plan, but I had a map and a few weeks off work so I was just going to see where it took me. 'Every been to Ayres Rock?' one of them asked. I said no, so in the way of all motorcyclists, in the time it took us to fuel up I was off to the rock with three complete strangers. I had Captain Sensible at home, my good friend Ingrid who was making sure I was safe every night so she'd know where to come looking for me if I disappeared off the face of the earth. When I confessed to her that I had been picked up by three strangers in a petrol station and was going to the Northern Territory, she made me photograph their license plates and get their full names and contact details IN CASE THEY WERE AXE MURDERERS!!!!
So it became Emma, Colin, Steve and I. We quickly settled into our riding style. I'd bootle along being polite until I saw a corner up ahead, then I'd let the Hayabusa open up. Steve said he could always tell when I was about to shoot past, the whole front of the bike rears up when I hit the throttle.
We made our way up to Rockhampton where we were meeting the rest of the crowd. On the way I got asked for drugs in a small country town (wrong kind of bikie dude), went to the dawn service at Gladstone and almost had a Norman Bates moment with a guy who owned a hotel in a place called Tanum Sands. DO NOT STOP THERE UNLESS YOU ARE OUT OF FUEL AND YOU HAVE NO CHOICE!!!
That night in Rockhampton, I found out that I was on a prostate cancer charity run, and I had the t-shirt and stubby cooler to prove it!
So many ridiculous things happen when you are on a bikie run with over 70 bikes, most of them Harleys but with two VERY obvious Hayabusas lurking in the middle. Early on I met up with a bloke called Tex, who was on a copper busa. Tex, Bundy and I became known as The Min Min lights because the other riders said they would see a flash of two lights, WAAAYYYY off in the distance and then suddenly, WHOOP WHOOP as two Hayabusas in full flight shot past. This was particularly amusing as I was riding full throttle, and Tex was doing it with his best mate Bundy on the tank.
We made friends with the cops in a variety of town. Somehow being on a prostate charity run seems to get you out of a lot of the usual trouble. I met a lovely police man at a place called Gin Gin, who pulled into the carpark 10 mins after me with his lights flashing. I immediately (to ward off any trouble), bounced over, told him about our charity run and was VERY charming. As he left, he called me over and said, 'Madam. If you go that way, you have a clear run for the next 30kms'. EXCELLENT! Tex and Bundy picked up the lovely young female police officer in Winton, so we sat up drinking til the early hours with her. She said that at 8am the following morning, she would be doing paperwork and would be making coffee for her sargent. GOOD SMALL TOWN POLICING ALL ROUND!!
In Mt Isa,we went on a pub crawl and rode the bikes through a bar and Tex and Bundy made the front page of the Mt Isa local paper. I slept under the stars in the desert, got a tattoo, was attacked by an emu and saw a dingo sing. SERIOUSLY, how does it get any better than THAT!
The rock was beautiful, as was the Devils Marbles. The colour of the rocks really bought out the beauty of the copper colour scheme. Anyone who thought that scheme was the least attractive, would have to rethink it after seeing it in the desert. The purple/black just looked MEAN.
It took me three days of solid riding to get home from the rock. I hit a galah (going a little faster than I should), but luckily got it in the shoulder. In saying that, I think I blacked out for a moment and sat up on the wrong side of the road with dead arm and no way of using the clutch to slow down. I finally stalled the bike in top gear and stopped, realising I was half-way between Cober Pedy and Woomera (officially BF Nowheresville) and I thought I had a broken arm. The Grey Nomads are one of the funniest things about the outback, so I figured they'd turn up with lemonade and sympathy at any moment. I survived the strike, but couldn't use my arm for two days and have a truly spectacular bruise now to show off!
The Hay Plain redefined FEATURELESS, but used a surprising amount of fuel, but the belting cross wind must have added to my consumption. The fuel consuption on the trip related directly to the speeds we were doing. Tex and I managed to use an entire tank of fuel in 177kms, but at other times (when we had to be careful), we could get well over 300 out of a tank. I put the Pilot Power Roads on and they were the PERFECT tyre. I estimate I still have 10 000kms left on them, and that is after the heat and extreme speeds of the outback. I'm putting them in the shed for the next big road trip, because DAMN they are scary around town. A lot of the guys on the trip thought we were mad for doing what we did on the busa, but it just reminded me it is the perfect bike. It does the snowys, a track day and something like this. I don't think it gets any better.
The next trip is going to be up and around. I figure I could get around the whole thing in six weeks to two months. Who is with me? I think a small, fast moving group would be tops, I'm thinking of going in late August early Sept. I might even try to get some sponsorship.
HEIDI xxx
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