Goin' Troppo...part1

Goin' Troppo part 2 here:

http://www.austouring.com/forum/showthread.php?t=973

(All photos courtesy of all digicam-bearing members of the bunch)




Day 1 Melbourne-Brisbane-Esk


Straight up, let’s get some bits out of the way… the most exciting breakdown was a lost nut of the Guzzi’s gearlever-linkage…The only “rider-down” was Yours Truly…walking backwards into a bench in Yea on the last day…and dropping face first onto the footpath (but that’s what the gear is for, aye?).

Contrary to the weather down south, we had brilliant sunshine all the way.... blue skies and sunburn-through-the-visor.
Somehow the days were too short though….despite the 5.30/ 6.00am starts, just as the moon and sun shook hands on their alternating shifts. Lights-out around 9pm does that somehow…
And the COLD…sparkling mornings, tents frozen, a thin white coating on everything, deciduous trees in full colour glowing away in the first, white light….then seemingly burning up in the slanted, golden, late afternoon light.

The only clouded skies hit on the 2. day and didn’t look all that wet initially….but leaving O’Reillys for Canungra in Southern Qld under a black cloud should’ve been a warning.
“It’ll be a shower only”….yeah, sure…and what a shower it was. Visibility down to 20 meters through the hundreds of twisties on the winding, narrow road… the heavens opened up, big time. Canungra saw us glad to have made it back, soaked to the bone.
The Motel opposite the Laundromat suddenly had “No Vacancies” after we moved in; the driers in the Laundromat got stuffed even with leathers/ boots and gloves (low heat).
The only other gray skies and 30-second/ 3-drops were found on the last day, 5km from home.

No member of the “fleet” let us down, all bikes ran perfectly….even the Italian contingent of the Guzzi Breva and the two Pegasos (as the rest were Suzukis, nothing untoward was expected there anyway ).
Just the rubber got a bit thin towards the end of the trip :?

Matt, Loz, Goodie and Pete


Loz pissed off at only flying up....but not riding down.


The maxi-cab pickup was a bit confusing, but soon after arrival at Bris airport we found ourselves wheeling the bikes out of the “Bikes-Only” storage facilities. The 2 Pegasos had a damaged mirror each. Apart from that no damage was to be found.





Then I discovered that I’d left my bike-keys at home…in the other jacket…
DOOHH !!
Time to scrounge around the bike and find the “hidden” spare… “old” tourers do that sort of thing…and found it! Gary bought me a "fitting keyring" !! :?



As Mt. Glorious seems to be the Weekend-Dickhead-Racetrack equivalent to the Reefton/Black Spurs here in Vic, the group fumbled its way through Brisbane into Samford and on to Mt. Mee. Delightful twisties, little traffic and fantastic views once up on the ridge, the distinct caps of the Glasshouse Mtns. sticking out from the flat coastal area.





More twisties along the way to D’Aguilar and the bakery at Kilcoy for a real-late lunch.

Time to cut loose a bit through the twisties (gotta get a feel for things with the packs on the back ) along Somerset Dam, what a sweet piece of road…and all amongst a smorgasbord of autumn colours, yeeha !



The low sun cuts long shadows, the afternoon is getting on…. time to pitch tents in Esk. Everyone agrees…if living in Brisbane, this loop could easily be completed by boogie-ing through the Mt. Glorious twisties back into town, it sure makes a fantastic day ride.



After pitching tents it was off to the pub for a drink or 3 and some tucker. Gosh, it was warm. Bottoms up, mate!
Left to right: Garry, Tim, Moira, Karel, Marty, Sasha, Pete, Nigel....with Goodie taking the shot.



Pete becomes the latest member of the Nackt Arsch Klub (bare-arse club)



Peace in the camp....or not



A Strom gone Troppo

Day2 Esk-Beaudesert-Canungra-O’Reilly’s

Mayhem !!
“ I NEVER packed all this shit”….”How the hell did we get this mountain of stuff into the panniers?”….”Can someone gimme a hand sitting on top of this so I can do up the zip?”



The usual first-morning-chaos… blue skies and comfortable temperatures…was hilarious. And frustrating. And baffling.
But some bacon & eggs at the local bakery got tempers under control again.







Along the shores of Lake Wivenhoe towards Ipswich, another sea of autumn colours and some nice sweepers,





then the confusion at the intersection as we wanted to turn right, but the only choice was veering left. Finally found the west-of-Ipswich bypass for a few short k’s of Cunningham Hwy, before turning south onto deserted country roads to Boonah.
Then the twisties and sweepers across to Beaudesert, sweet, entertaining…to say the least.
Garry on the Peg started to pester Tim on the KiloGix…the start of a pattern that should last for the rest of the trip. Anything was fair game for the Peg…

The climb up Mt. Tambourine was slow, the first lot of weekend-traffic seen thus far.
Still worth the twisties though…and Garry over-shooting a lefthander, not realizing it was a hairpin…had the Peg in knots trying to stay in his lane.





Along the ridge and some short stops to admire the views, before the steep, partially single-lane, drop into Canungra. Tricky …the heavy gear pushing the bike downhill quicker than one realizes….





Straight through for one of the gems of the trip, the 40-odd k’s to O’Reillys Guesthouse and the Treetop walk. Ripper-twisties, sometimes single-lane, rocks dropping out of the bank onto the road through blind corners, mid-corner cattle-grids, a few cars to spice things up even more, then the dive into the pitch-dark, dense rainforest for the last 10k’s or so…. fig-trees and other tropical stuff growing along the asphalt’s edge, no run-off here…not even an inch. Great stuff.





For a while it’s hammer-and-tongs at the front-end of the group… 2 Stroms, the big Gix and…yeah…the Peg ! going for it. Nige on the Nylex- Strom (2 HUGE eskies on the back, partially loaded with tools) later on complains about shitty handling and the front-end wanting to go walkabouts, wonder why?
Even Moira’s mongrel DR650 with the shonky valve guides/seals decides to ask for its first ½ liter of oil-top-up.

The mood somehow changes at the start of the rainforest section, the sunnies come off in a flash, the speeds drop.
I think the shark-teeth-Strom won that one…








Clouds move in quickly as we squeeze flesh with lots of other tourists along the tree-top-walk, the first heavy drops thump down leaving the car park.
Popping out from underneath the dense canopy, the full scale of those clouds shows up…it’s bucketing !! The downhill-run into Canungra becomes a crawl…different temperature pockets fog out visors, visibility is near-non-exist, it’s coming down in sheets…and…it’s everyone for him/ herself.
The well-dreaded (and always denied) first trickle into the crotch area doesn’t take long…after that it just runs and nobody gives a shit anymore.

The bunch re-assembled with water still running into the vents of the helmets, down the neck, the back, the chest, through the pants and out the top of the boots…or the gloves, if one drops their arms for a few seconds. No friggin way we gonna set up tents like this…a motel along the main drag offers refuge and we take the last rooms on offer all too happily.



The Laundromat opposite is subsequently occupied by changing shifts of $2 coin-feeders, namely Nige, Moira, Tim and Goodie. Even the leathers, boots and gloves get a complimentary couple of rounds.





My right Dririder pocket reveals itself as a fish tank, holds the water perfectly, tobacco, papers and keys floating around happily.
Looks like the only waterproof part of the whole jacket, too…
There’s a “Greasy Joe’s” opposite and “The Deep-Fryer From Hell” comes good with the full cholesterol-pack.
The rain fizzles out as we sit on the verandah; the beer still tastes fine as the laughs start and we let the day pass by again…

Great it’s started!

Keep it up mate, great pictures and you tell a good story. I don’t know if I should believe any of it but I suppose a few of the others will poke there heads in here and keep you honest.

Day 3 Canungra-Lookouts-Byron Bay-Lismore

U-turn Monday… ohhh yeah.
To make sure that last nights fat-pack seats properly, it’s off to bacon & eggs once more. Even a vet would read us the riot act now…What the hell, with all those twisties looming today, we’ll have burned it off before lunch. Out of Canungra under blue skies, the first U-turn isn’t far off…the road to Springbrook has some road works and after yesterdays heavy rain the red clay is 2” deep red mush, slippery as a greased pig's tail.



Where the ^%$ are we?



Goldcoast....





After the first lot we’re warned by oncoming traffic that there’s a few more k’s of it, better call it quits before someone comes down.
Towards Nerang, then up the sweepers towards the Hinze Dam, another wrong turn, then back-pedalling to Springbrook and the “Best of all Lookouts”…and YES, IT IS.



It’s not just a spectacular piece of road, but the views are unbelievable.
The escarpment drops away vertically under our feet, there’s the peak of Mt. Warning, the Tweed Valley, Tweed Heads and the coast to the left, the maze of the Northern NSW hills straight ahead….the Border Ranges are one glorious place.

The AusTouring mods...risking their necks for the BEST shots !!




Again it’s on for young and old , another little chase off the mountain, then south again to the “Natural Arch National Park, where a small river disappears in a big hole of a rock-shelf…which, seen from below, is the roof of a glowworm cave.





Little traffic and more brilliant road and we’re skirting Murwillumbah, picking a road that leads through some new suburbs, then up the valley-sweepers to Uki.
A tiny, bumpy road leads towards the coast for the roadworks-strewn Pacific Hwy into Byron Bay.
Karel guides us through the horrendous traffic in town to the lighthouse and Australia’s most easterly point, for a look-see and some ice creams.









WHAT a VIEW !!!



We all decide that Byron is a shithole and make for the shortest way-outta-Dodge qand a late lunch in Bangalow. Sun still burning from above, we’re running late and agree on Lismore for the night. The main road would be sweet if it wouldn’t be for the traffic and speed limits.



Good choice, as we have the whole of 5 acres of grass to ourselves, and the pub is 15mins walk into town. But doesn’t put on dinner. Another pub does….and desert is a big turnout by the local fire brigade, apparently some room upstairs has sprung a leak and there’s water everywhere. Didn’t seem to have dribbled into the Chicken Parma though…

Nigel seemed to have found some fresh batteries for the torch and there’s some weird shadowboxing and giggling going on in that tent, hmmm

farawayman said:

Great it’s started!

Keep it up mate, great pictures and you tell a good story. I don’t know if I should believe any of it but I suppose a few of the others will poke there heads in here and keep you honest.

Click to expand...

No worries, they certainly do !!
More coming soon

Day 4 Lismore-Nimbin-Lyons Rd. - Mt. Lindsay- Tabulam- Tenterfield


As “all that shit” DOES fit back into the pack by now :!: , the next morning barely dawns and everyone is out and about, packing up, plunger-coffee by the liter… the awkward-to-stow electric kettle is proving a popular item.

Typical Troppo-gear:


Ahhhh....the prime shot of the morning....



Some quick-repairs to hold the lever-tip in place...lasted the whole trip...and more



More clean-washed skies promising another great day, it’s out of Lismore (after the “guided city tour” due to the lack of signs pointing towards the little backroads chosen) and into the rolling, green hills.


Not far out of town and the head of the group is by itself…bummer, something must be wrong at the tail. A quick flurry of calls…the Guzzi has a jammed rear brake after last night’s adjustment in fading daylight…. a quick fix and we’re off again, direction Nimbin.

The turnoff to The Channon presents a real delight: Single lane twisties, steep drops and climbs, tropical farm country, short but sweet. Hold it…there’s MORE of it, incl. a short dirt bit through dense and dark rainforest above Nimbin, what a find !!



Nimbin does its reputation justice…within minutes there are all sorts of “goods” on offer. The slowly cruising cop-car somehow seems…ahem…better draw you own conclusion.







It’s fun poking the nose into various places, exchange impressions over a “non-laced” cuppa, then leave town for more delicious backroad twisties, single-lane timber-bridges and wild & wacky ups and downs spiced with a million rough and bumpy tar-patches north to the Kyogle Rd. intersection….for more of the same.





This ain’t easy cruising…but 120% concentration is needed if anywhere around the speed limit….Christ, it’s bumpy…but boy, it’s fun !! Mt. Warning pokes it’s pointy tip into the blue skies, plenty of blind corners, some laced with gravel, steep embankments either way starting right at the road’s edge, huge dips, mid-corner-“bathtubs” that make the bike step out a foot or more coming out of full suspension-compression while cranked over, the odd bit of livestock wandering about…this is the brim-full bucket of backroads touring…. yeeeeha ! :mrgreen: :mrgreen:



A battered, old sign pointing right 20km north of Kyogle: The Lions Rd.
Build by the local Lions club a long time ago it was expected to bring more commerce to Kyogle…no idea if it worked , but it’s 50k++ of single-lane, kidney-shakin’ bumper, following the railway up and into the South-QLD escarpment via it’s unique railway-loop (tracks looping through a hill to gain elevation).



Another one of those standout highlights, it’s a corker of a ride. :!:
Rough, tricky and very, very demanding. The lookout over the rail-loop about 30km up is a welcome break, but don’t think the show is over…oh no, more to come.





Carve a blind leftie with a single-lane timber-bridge at it’s apex…which is also the lowest part of a steep dip, the deck of the bridge is at 45 deg. angles, too…bump out the other side, lucky to hold it all together…. crank it into the blind right-hander…and there’s a Milka-cow only 10m away, blocking 80% of the road’s width.

Roo-proof... glare-proof...Captain Fantastic.



And so it goes on and on… and on. Brilliant stuff. The burgers at the Rathdowny store taste like Filet Mignon.



After the quick-dip into Qld, its back south via the Mt. Lindsay Hwy, part of it is superb scratching, the other part into Woodenbong rather like the high-speed version of the Lions Rd….yet another 40km of 2-wheel heaven. This is simply stumping riding-country around here.





South to Urbenville and Bonalbo, the roads open up, the sweepers are sweet, still bumpy, but sweet. Then the cut across to Tabulam on the Bruxner Hwy.
The pace at the front is…ahem…advanced. The town is in sight, straight-ahead and below. Crossing so many cattlegrids, nobody remembers if we’re in-or-outside a grazing-zone, as long as the grid is taken at dead-right angles, the steam stays on.



(some of the grids are spaced so widely, the running gear of a Mini Cooper would just drop through ). There are no roadmarkings, no lines, no posts, no fences…a bare, grassy hilltop with a descending, straightline-into-town row of powerlines.
The grass starts at the edge of the tar. Flying over the top of the crest, everything looks cool, town in sight 2k’s off.
The lefthander comes from nowhere…sweating blood and water as the bike ties itself into knots at maximum possible brakes and max.lean all at once, bucking, chattering…the mirror reveals Marty in the same predicament (eyes like dunny-seats behind that tinted visor, I’m sure) behind him Garry catching up fast, still under full sail….the buckling legs of the Peg as the anchors go on…

Wouldn’t THAT be a story….a whole bunch of bikes and riders, hanging on for grim death while on their various scattered lines down a grassy paddock at a 100kph…oh shite.

It’s a sheepish, but relieved first moment after the helmets come off, then the laughter ripples through Tabulam…. None of us really want to walk around; there just might be something squishy in those leathers…
The sun still pelts down as we cross the rickety single-lane trestle bridge





out of town, up the Bruxner Hwy to Tenterfield for the night. Sweet sweepers through rolling hills make for more great riding, the first time today there is a smooth deck below…sort of, anyway.
Straight into the sinking sun, a huge fireball by now, the afternoon is getting on and turns steel-gray as the sun vanishes just as we reach town. It got pretty nippy over the last hour and Sash on the Guzzi and Tailie Karel are missing.
Marty steams off on a rescue-mission as the call comes in that they’re ok, the Guzzi has lost a nut that holds the gear-lever-linkage together, they’ve cable-tied it up and are on their way.
Part of the group shoots off to make quarters and start setting up tents. Just on dark, the missing 2 and Marty pull up…it’s all good…we’ll fix it properly tomorrow.

What a day !!! What a ride !!!
It became the measuring-stick for the days to come, or rather….for the rest of the trip.
The chicken & chips at the café next to the servo couldn’t dampen the spirits, despite being the shittiest tucker of the whole 2 weeks. Nobody gave a rats….
Down and out by 9.

Day 5 Tenterfield - Out west - Ashwood - Inverell
White-coated paddocks, frozen bike seats, frosted tankbag-zippers…. it was fuggen FREEZING ! Just on 6 am…the sun still a good hour away, the plunger-cups of hot-brew only give illusionary warmth. Still…the skies are clear and it’s all set for another good day’s traveling.



The "Morning-Fairy"...sore sight for frozen eyes



Impossible to equal or even trump yesterday’s ride, the hearty brecky in town does it’s trick. Then the triumphant smile from Nigel’s corner, having found the right Nyloc-nut to fix the Guzzi’s gear-lever linkage trouble.

Fitting it is another thing though…it’s a bitch to get into the narrow space to thread the bloody thing on….after countless attempts, freezing the backside solid laying on a concrete pad, it finally seems to bite, Sasha’s small hands succeed where my own “hand-of-Frankfurts” failed repeatedly.
The rest is tedious, but easy. Back in Business !!…and off to the Lookout.
Some nice twisties and sweepers before some dirt…all well worth it as the views across that part of the New England area are magnificent. The town at our feet, the hills rolling into a row peaks in the far distance…kick-starter to the day !!





Moira, the Newbie with only some ZZR250 day-ride- experience under her belt, is coming along in leaps and bounds. No problems at all, no aches or complaints, she’s starting to hammer that DR650, road or dirt, smooth or gnarly…. She’s a natural, great fun to watch.

Out West towards Texas, then south to Ashford, the long sweepers are relaxing, the countryside somewhat uninspiring…some “home-made” entertainment on order then.
A good way to shake off the usual Day3/ Day4 “road-weariness” that seems to show up on every long ride…
Up the sweepers and final twisties for some more fun to Pindari Dam, the local water-reservoir tucked away in a picturesque little corner of the landscape, a ~60k’s detour.



OOPS :!: :!: :!:



A sparkies nightmare, overgrown 3-phase wiring



Late lunch, then some more “hunting” down south towards Inverell as the afternoon draws close, the sun still pushing it’s broken light through the trees…. and it’s getting fresh again. We agree to call it quits in Inverell, a day just dawdled away on good country roads, easy riding at a relaxed pace with a few fun-bits strewn in.

Knackered....despite an easy day



“$9 T-bones?? You gotta be joking ! I’ll need 4 more pegs in the ground, then we’re off to the pub…”

Not the best T-bones ever, but no complaints for that sort of small change, it proves to be true…T-bones all around then.

glitch said:

OOPS :!: :!: :!:

Click to expand...

Lost again :?: :?: :?:

I remember this country. I spent a few years up that way a lifetime ago.

Keep it up Pete, your doing good. :!:

O and thanks for dragging up some memories must go back some time just for a wonder around.

Day 6 Inverell—Glen Innes—The Gwydir—Grafton—Dorrigo


Tish, boom....more frosty paddocks, crunchy tents, a little breeze…it’s chilling to the bone.
The kettle goes permanently, if only to warm the hands on it’s casing.
:roll: :roll:







Even the sun takes a while to break through and make itself felt, going east to Glen Innes helps though, straight into the fireball. Another lookout along the way, a longing look back…we won’t be heading west that far for the next few days.





The Celtic Standing Stones in town provide a puzzling hour, nobody really able to work out those things. The BP at the roundabout brings out a good chuckle and memories of the BananaRama Ride in 2003…a ZZR250 keeling over at the bowser, pinning its rider between it and a rack of engine-oils….



Things warm up a bit, the Gwydir Hwy comes good with 60k’s of fast sweepers and once more, it’s on for young and old. What an unforgettable view of the few bikes in front carving through bends like pulled on a string, the point when the throttle comes on could be marked by a single line on the road….singles, 4-pots, twins…it looks like it’s been choreographed and practiced for years…
As the trees close in there’s the sign to Raspberry Lookout, a must-see. :!:









The views are east and vast…stunning vistas into and across the Walshpool/ Gilbraltar Range and Nymboida National Parks…endless hilltops and valleys.
Endless bush under sparkling skies…





The group breaks up a little through the sheer bliss of endless twisties down the mountains into the coastal plain and Grafton for lunch.

“Greasy Joe” wins again over $20-yuppie-fare as the liners come out of the jackets and the wets are stuffed into the top cases…. little do we know that 60k’s further on, everyone wishes they hadn’t. :?



Leaving the Hwys for more backroads, things get bumpy again through Coutts Crossing and Nymboida,…Tim, Nylex-Nige, Garry and I running ahead.
The riding is intense…it’s rough, the corners are tight and gnarly and in deep shadows, hard to see things before one is right on top of them, washouts, bumps, gravel-seams…and it doesn’t get any different once up on the ridge to Tyringham, the turn-off to Dorrigo.
Tim quickly nabs a slow-moving car in front of me… while on the last bit of straight. Next is a medium speed right/left combo, good visibility, clear road, easy choice, go…go …GO !! Tuck into the inside as the road drops, parallel with the car now… and all of a sudden the bike just drops away from underneath…FUGG!!…I know what’s next…and there it is…a “bathtub” (short stretch of sunken road) makes the Strom sit on her blocks before launching it…literally spitting it out the other side….and a good foot closer to the car, slightly off-line… shaking it’s head with the arse-end still wallowing about.

It’s still downhill, the leftie is looming and the “cut-through-the-guts” of the righthander has become the “long-way-around” for the lefthander.
10/10 for pucker-factor, she comes over the top and the left peg does some fresh roadmarkings. Now it’s too hot for the following righthander again and I’m off-line, too. A glimpse of Tim ahead, who’s nearly through that righthander. Use the other lane then and push, push…more scraping, this time the right peg cuts some fresh lines..

Always praising myself for not scraping pegs and still being decently quick around bends, that record’s gone out the window in a matter of 2 bends, 150m of road and a few seconds that felt like hours.

Along the way...spot the odd one out....





The sky is black to blood red on the bumpy stretch into Dorrigo until we come closer and see a fire-truck, some local burn-off gone slightly out of hand by the looks of it.
The sun is down and it’s getting icy again as we roll into town, nothing much seems to have changed here in the last 3 years. Only the old railway-yard at the edge of town seems to have filled up with locomotives and wagons of all sorts. Just standing around. Hundreds of them.

Shivering now, we pull in at the “Dorrigo Mountain Resort” for some cabins…not another night freezing away in the tents, only half-asleep for some of the night.




The hot showers are bliss and the pub in town puts on some good tucker.

Only the next morning reveals a solid peppering of red and yellow bugs-guts, the stuff is EVERYWHERE.
Another great day on the chalk-board !!

Day 7 Around Dorrigo

Time for a break and a “day off” today







…the group splits after the 25k’s of juicy twisties down the mountain to Bellingen…superb road, smooth, great fun. Tight…and nice views into the valley and out to the coast.

Nige, Moira, Goodie and I want to have a look at Nambucca Heads, which is not as busy and over-run as Coffs Harbour…but Coffs has a good range of bike-shops.
The little backroad out of Bellingen is hard to find (it leaves the main drag at the servo in town…as we later found out). Bumpy, isolated…somehow far, far away…it’s towards Brierfield first, then another tack east towards the Pacific Hwy. The road narrows to barely a car’s width….then narrows again…then turns dirt….then leads through a section of foul-smelling swamp :? :? …then gets rougher climbing a hillside….and finishes up on the Hwy.
On the way to Nambucca, the HUGE “Speed Camera Ahead” signs are a laugh for any Victorian used to the sneaky methods down south. But thanks for the warning anyway, even if traffic held us well below the limits.



A tootle around the foreshore, icecreams, another lookout …and it’s afternoon again, the sun still burning down on our ride back to Bellingen, but this time cutting out that stinking swamp by choosing the main hwy. Boring, but quick. Up those fantastic twisties again, scattered traffic adding spice to the ride…a ride without the extra-width and weight of panniers to think about, the topbox only holding the necessary.

Running a bit late, we expect the “Coffs-bunch” to be waiting for us at the cabins for the planned snoop around those railway yards and a look at the Skywalk just out of town.
They come even later and we've got our feet up in front of the cabins,…Tim’s Big Gix howling through the countryside, followed by the braaaaap of Karel’s Strom, with the Peg somewhere in between.
With the sun not being that far off from being swallowed by the hills, it’s off to “the trains”, a stumping collection of Loco’s and carriages of the last 100years, some astonishing items amongst it. It’ll all be a museum soon and open to the public.

This is a MEGA-FEAST for any train-buff....and a real stumper for anyone else.




















It gets dark waaaay too early





We’ll be back to Dorrigo for that alone!!
Keith, the maker and shaker of the whole thing:



Tim, the “Master BBQer” of the bunch, does his magic tricks with the shopping we brought from Nambucca, somehow some 6-packs appear…and vanish again...





The stories flow…. bullshit thick and fast, it’s a hoot.



The ride continues.....Goin Troppo part 2:

http://www.austouring.com/forum/showthread.php?t=973