Grey skies…it didn’t look too promising at the start of Sunday’s postie bash.
The Ballarat-contingent showed up early, in fact, they were nowhere to be seen, just an empty trailer hooked to a Landcruiser Troopy.
In all came together quickly though, 9 hands on deck, the skies cracked open and the sun stayed with us for the rest of the day.
The 2 L-platers Will and James (only 3 months on L’s), the bunch of Ballarat “Rednecks”
Stoo, Jeremy, Paul and Jeff (sp?) and some local drop-ins/-outs Tim, Goodie and I.
A sedate start only saw a couple of 360s and an attempted burnout….and we weren’t even off the car park.
Christ…those guys don’t need a wind-up; it’s full bore or ….just… walk away, hands in pockets!
Some twisties through the Dandenong, the roads still damp, but who gives? 
After the top-up in Emerald we finally hit the bush just past Gembrook….and the last wraps came off (shite, didn’t figure there were any left…but there ya go).
Only a few k’s in, a fallen tree blocked the road, a couple of 4WDs already banked up. 2ft diameter? Jump the front end, then slide across on the bash plate, Stoo showed how it’s done….the rest waited for the 4WD to drag the tree to one side. 8) 8)
Rooster-tailing, more 360s, jumping up clay banks and screaming through ditches, the general pissfarting made short work of necessary check-the-map-stops.
The damp clay was perfect, grippy with just enough slip/ slide to keep things interesting.
As James found out, too….consequently adding 5 pounds of dirt and some juicy clumps of grass/ sticks/leaves to his mount.
Some big washouts and bogholes provided extra entertainment.
Triumphantly mastering the first one, I completely missed the 2. straight after and ditched the little red sucker in the bush. Thick and green and full of leeches.
Then came that rocky track…..what fuggin rocks? The hammer stayed on.
Twigs overhanging the track, small, but deep potholes with muddy-brown gunk, the crap flew everywhere. James lost most of his “added paraphernalia”….
Just short of Powelltown we popped out of the bush for a stop at the store…then right back into it, looping through the hills towards Noojee.
Things got rough…and the going even more furious. Sliding now even on the straights, rear-ends going everywhere, the bends saw legs and feet out, bikes shooting off-line, 4” and 6” logs across the track taken at full tilt by standing on the pegs, whipping the suspension up and down to hit the log in the “up-cycle” , most times it worked….and sometimes it didn’t, chipping another piece of the riders coxic-bone.
That’s what it felt like, anyhow… :roll:
Then some steep downhill bits, with the mother-of-a-bastard right at the end.
And it seemed half a mile long, looking from the top, the reddish-brownish strip of loose, damp stuff disappering in the greenery far below.
The ground was graded alongside the track, the transverse drainage channels vicious launching ramps for a bike that had it’s rear wheel solidly jammed into the mudguard by all the damp, loose crap….and just wouldn’t stop sliding at 45deg angles constantly. Opposite lock? OH YEAH !!!!!!!
Somehow, all made it down in one piece, the last ones being greeted as one of the (was it Jeff or Jeremy ?) BallaRats passed them on his way UP !!!! ….screaming first gear and the full gamut of contortions to keep the thing on the track, or near enough to it, anyway. What a bloody hooot !!
Back onto the sealed to Noojee, things immediately switched to “ noggin-down, clacker up” drafting mode, jostling for positions into the next bend…
The feud of the sole 2 local shop-owners translated into filling up from canisters rather than the bowsers, but hell…leave ‘em to it, we had full tanks and that’s all that mattered.
The afternoon was getting late, time to make tracks and take the easy home run via paved roads.
Drafting 3 wide with No4 on the far out-or-inside, waiting “in the wings” for the smallest slip-up to snatch a position or 2…or… if lucky, ducking out of the draft just before a right-hander, hammering the nose into the inside-spot up the front…giggling like mad…the asylum on a road-trip.
James decided to repeat the morning’s performance, but this time with a twist.
Instead of down-the-embankment, he went for the royal flush…INTO the embankment. Like Jack-in-the-box, he popped straight up again, once more without any injuries or damage to the bike.
He dropped the camouflage-bit though….no tufts of grass sticking out this time.
Across to Monbulk, Belgrave and down Burwood Hwy….into the sinking sun.
4 Posties got squashed expertly onto the trailer, the rest parting ways after some strong handshakes and WIIIIDE grins.
What a CRACKER of a day !!!
Full kudos to James and Will, the 2 L-Platers did an incredible job, the rest of the guys??
I'll get you next time 
Sorry for the few pics...there'll be more coming from Stoo, Will and others....Will might even have a vid of some close up...and that's REAL CLOSE....drafting. And as it was THAT close, you might even see my left index finger creeping towards Jeremy's crack as he was sucking the handlebars to queeze another poofteenth out of the howling 110cc's
(I wasn't close enough for the kill-switch )
The Ballarat-contingent showed up early, in fact, they were nowhere to be seen, just an empty trailer hooked to a Landcruiser Troopy.
In all came together quickly though, 9 hands on deck, the skies cracked open and the sun stayed with us for the rest of the day.
The 2 L-platers Will and James (only 3 months on L’s), the bunch of Ballarat “Rednecks”
Stoo, Jeremy, Paul and Jeff (sp?) and some local drop-ins/-outs Tim, Goodie and I.A sedate start only saw a couple of 360s and an attempted burnout….and we weren’t even off the car park.
Christ…those guys don’t need a wind-up; it’s full bore or ….just… walk away, hands in pockets!
Some twisties through the Dandenong, the roads still damp, but who gives?
After the top-up in Emerald we finally hit the bush just past Gembrook….and the last wraps came off (shite, didn’t figure there were any left…but there ya go).
Only a few k’s in, a fallen tree blocked the road, a couple of 4WDs already banked up. 2ft diameter? Jump the front end, then slide across on the bash plate, Stoo showed how it’s done….the rest waited for the 4WD to drag the tree to one side. 8) 8)
Rooster-tailing, more 360s, jumping up clay banks and screaming through ditches, the general pissfarting made short work of necessary check-the-map-stops.
The damp clay was perfect, grippy with just enough slip/ slide to keep things interesting.
As James found out, too….consequently adding 5 pounds of dirt and some juicy clumps of grass/ sticks/leaves to his mount.
Some big washouts and bogholes provided extra entertainment.
Triumphantly mastering the first one, I completely missed the 2. straight after and ditched the little red sucker in the bush. Thick and green and full of leeches.
Then came that rocky track…..what fuggin rocks? The hammer stayed on.
Twigs overhanging the track, small, but deep potholes with muddy-brown gunk, the crap flew everywhere. James lost most of his “added paraphernalia”….
Just short of Powelltown we popped out of the bush for a stop at the store…then right back into it, looping through the hills towards Noojee.
Things got rough…and the going even more furious. Sliding now even on the straights, rear-ends going everywhere, the bends saw legs and feet out, bikes shooting off-line, 4” and 6” logs across the track taken at full tilt by standing on the pegs, whipping the suspension up and down to hit the log in the “up-cycle” , most times it worked….and sometimes it didn’t, chipping another piece of the riders coxic-bone.
That’s what it felt like, anyhow… :roll:
Then some steep downhill bits, with the mother-of-a-bastard right at the end.
And it seemed half a mile long, looking from the top, the reddish-brownish strip of loose, damp stuff disappering in the greenery far below.
The ground was graded alongside the track, the transverse drainage channels vicious launching ramps for a bike that had it’s rear wheel solidly jammed into the mudguard by all the damp, loose crap….and just wouldn’t stop sliding at 45deg angles constantly. Opposite lock? OH YEAH !!!!!!!
Somehow, all made it down in one piece, the last ones being greeted as one of the (was it Jeff or Jeremy ?) BallaRats passed them on his way UP !!!! ….screaming first gear and the full gamut of contortions to keep the thing on the track, or near enough to it, anyway. What a bloody hooot !!
Back onto the sealed to Noojee, things immediately switched to “ noggin-down, clacker up” drafting mode, jostling for positions into the next bend…
The feud of the sole 2 local shop-owners translated into filling up from canisters rather than the bowsers, but hell…leave ‘em to it, we had full tanks and that’s all that mattered.
The afternoon was getting late, time to make tracks and take the easy home run via paved roads.
Drafting 3 wide with No4 on the far out-or-inside, waiting “in the wings” for the smallest slip-up to snatch a position or 2…or… if lucky, ducking out of the draft just before a right-hander, hammering the nose into the inside-spot up the front…giggling like mad…the asylum on a road-trip.
James decided to repeat the morning’s performance, but this time with a twist.
Instead of down-the-embankment, he went for the royal flush…INTO the embankment. Like Jack-in-the-box, he popped straight up again, once more without any injuries or damage to the bike.
He dropped the camouflage-bit though….no tufts of grass sticking out this time.
Across to Monbulk, Belgrave and down Burwood Hwy….into the sinking sun.
4 Posties got squashed expertly onto the trailer, the rest parting ways after some strong handshakes and WIIIIDE grins.
What a CRACKER of a day !!!
Full kudos to James and Will, the 2 L-Platers did an incredible job, the rest of the guys??
I'll get you next time Sorry for the few pics...there'll be more coming from Stoo, Will and others....Will might even have a vid of some close up...and that's REAL CLOSE....drafting. And as it was THAT close, you might even see my left index finger creeping towards Jeremy's crack as he was sucking the handlebars to queeze another poofteenth out of the howling 110cc's
(I wasn't close enough for the kill-switch
) 
