V8 the Road…Victoria and back for fun and profit (well, not too much of the profit, actually)
It is now nearly 4 and a half years since my big accident and, though I have been riding for a couple of years again, I haven’t gone back to long-distance touring like I use to do. These days I can last around 100kms before I have to stop and exercise my leg and quite often the pain and discomfort can set in sooner than that.
For this reason I have passed on the last two Snowy rides knowing full well that 4 500+kms a day rides without a break, over demanding roads, was simply out of the question.
But, when my brother suggested that he was going to do a small tour of Victoria in the January break, I thought it might be time for me to try out my touring legs (or leg, specifically). As time went by the plan was firmed up and it went like this. Two days down to Melbourne, a rest day in the middle then two days back home. The itinerary ended up being Melbourne via the coast road with an overnight stay at Cann River (approximately half way) then a return via the Midland Highway, Benalla, Wodonga and Corryong. From Corryong the plan was to make Jindabyne over the top of the mountains via the Snowy Mountains, stay there and then Bega via Brown Mountain and home up the coast for the last day.
There wasn’t a great deal of preparation required. I swapped out my little top box for the Givi and used my little tank bag to carry the important stuff that needed to be in sight all the time. A new second hand set of Pirelli Rossos came my way just at the right time, usual pre-flight checks and we were ready to go.
Monday morning and I awoke to the sound of heavy rain on the roof. I hoped that this was not a bad omen for the rest of the ride. Bugger. My attitude to riding in the rain is that I will do it if I get caught out but I will not set out on a ride if it is already raining. So we waited for about two hours as the rains started to ease then we decided to set out.
As I pulled into the servo at Paul’s place to top off the tank, I noticed that the left indicator dash light was flashing very quickly. Damn, a blown bulb. Replace bulb and still an intermittent “yes it’s working, no it’s not” result. It didn’t take long to figure out that the spade terminal on the back of the bulb carrier was broken off. So, where do we find an auto electrician at 0700 on a Monday morning? Fortunately, Paul’s mechanic has his shop in the back streets behind the servo so a short delay of 15 minutes or so sees Paul back with a fresh terminal soldered on to the wire and fully functioning indicators. Reassemble and we’re off.
It was still spitting with rain and continued to do so with smaller and greater degrees of intensity until we were well south of Nowra. And this ability to dodge the foul weather turned out to be the REAL omen of the trip as we did it consistently for the next 5 days. Coffee and raisin toast at the bakery at Batemans Bay and we pressed on on roads that were dry and increasingly thinner in the traffic department. We cut left (east) at the Bermagui turnoff and enjoyed a spirited blast down the road to Tathra, stopping as needed. Paul’s attitude was that he was prepared to stop as often as necessary in order to complete the journey safely and allow me not to be too inconvenienced., Hence we stopped whenever I knew I needed to AND when HE thought I needed to. The arrangement actually worked famously.
Pancakes and coffee on the esplanade at Merimbula and on again, getting in to Cann River late afternoon. We’d already booked and the manager allowed us to park the bikes on the verandah outside our window where the shrubs completely hid them from view from the road. It had ended up being pretty warm so a shower and change into some cool clothes and a little lie down that ended up being a sleep for a couple of hours (old). Suffice it to say that, by the time we awoke again, the cafe (which looked to be motorcycle-themed) and the pub bistro were both closed. Nothing for it but to have dinner in the cafe at the servo. Hardly gourmet fare, but it filled the gap.
A couple of tankfuls of fuel had shown up that Paul’s bike wasn’t achieving anywhere near the fuel economy that mine was. As they are ostensibly identical, it pointed to a tuning issue that was to bedevil us for the rest of the trip. It didn’t affect performance in any way but it did mean that we had to stop more frequently, Paul’s bike being down to the last litre or two with just on 300km on the clock while mine, I know, can easily do 350 and still have quite a few litres left. However, since we weren’t on a timetable and had planned to stop regularly to give my leg a rest, it was an issue that didn’t spoil the trip.
After encouraging the noisy English tourists from the room next door into going inside and stopping the noise outside our window at 2300, we finally slept and woke to a picture-perfect morning.
I had been especially looking forward to the wonderful stretch of road south of Cann River but I was to be bitterly disappointed. After years of believing that Victorian roads are better than NSW roads, the appalling condition of the Princes once you cross The Victorian border came as a real shock. Broken surfaces, potholes, poor tar patching, corrugations on corner apexes and miles upon miles of roadworks at areas that appeared not to need them was unexpected to say the least. Added to this there are long stretches of really interesting road without any signs of advisory speed notices of any kind.
I have been a traditional critic of Victorian drivers, determining that the thing that is most wrong with Victorian roads is that they let Victorian drivers drive on them. But, apart from a few lunatics, the Mexicans were the best behaved that I have seen them in years. I pondered why and I think I have discovered the answer. Victorian drivers don’t have TIME to do anything stupid on the roads because their attention is wholly taken up with reading the thousands of nagging SIGNS erected by vicroads on the premise of trying to keep road users safe. Seriously, talk about the nanny state. If vicroads stopped spending the money they are WASTING on stupid signs, they would be able to give Victorian motorists good roads on which to drive which would lead to a much better road safety outcome than what is being achieved at present.
Anyway, as most of you know, while you are riding you notice all sorts of things that you don’t notice in the car while the wife is nagging, the kids are complaining and the stereo is blaring. Things like the fact the Nissan dealer in Bairnsdale is one Peter Dullard; yes, seriously.
Something else we noticed is that, despite the fact that it is holiday season, the number of bikes out on the road either just riding or touring was ridiculously small. No suggestion as to why this was so, Another thing is that the car of choice in both rural Victoria AND Rural NSW is the Subaru Forester. I refer you to my article of some years ago about this vehicle for your consideration.
As far as boring roads are concerned, the Princes from Bairnsdale to Melbourne is almost the equal of the Hume, so we endured it only as long as we had to before we cut north at Warragul and headed towards the Yarra Valley. And it was here that I experienced the highlight of the trip. Though it was late in the afternoon, the Nayook-Powelltown Road was a revelation and a joy. I didn’t even know it existed let alone ridden it. Paul had LIVED in the area and didn’t know about it. Highly recommended. A cold drink in Yarra Junction then it was on to Croydon and Wonga Park, a little rural settlement at the back of the Chirnside Park shopping mall and a little cottage called “Brushy Cottage” A self-contained one bedroom house with all facilities and only $85 per night.
The people who run the place do so under the umbrella of the Australia Home Away group and they are most hospitable. Undercover storage for the bikes and all the facilities you could want. Very nice. It had been another stiflingly hot day so a shower, change of clothes and a “nana nap” before we headed up to Croydon for tea and a shopping expedition. For the next two mornings we made our own breakfasts and lunches. And it cost the grand total of $176 for the two nights. Bargain.
Wednesday was to be our rest day and the plan was to go and haunt some of the bike shops and hit a shopping mall for some shopping and relaxation. By 0900 the temperature was already well into the 30’s so the idea seemed sound. We looked at A1 Motorcycles where we were offered a test ride on the new VFR800 and a free bottle of water each. Then it was on to Eastlands in search of air conditioning.
However the plan sort of fell apart when the lady at the Information Desk said that they could not and would not store our riding gear while we shopped for “security” reasons. Quite what sort of a “security” risk a helmet, back protector, jacket and a pair of gloves could pose, but rules were rules. No lockers, no storage of any kind available at the centre. Bugger. So, a cold drink and a cake and we headed back to the air conditioned cabin where we wasted the day watching the cricket. Dinner at an old friend’s place later and then back to the cabin for an early night and an early start.
You know the one where you set the alarm for a certain hour and wake up in time to turn it off? Well, an alarm set for 0500 is totally superfluous when you are wide awake at 0300. Could have got going, but, guess what? Yep, it was raining and stormy. Make breakfast, pack, clean the cabin and hope saw us finally setting out about 0415 with the thunder and lightning still in evidence but the rain eased right off to a light drizzle. Fuel at Lilydale and, by the time we reached Yarra Glen, the rain had stopped, the storm was receding in the mirrors and the road was dry. Hooray, dodged the bullet again.
Despite the distance travelled and the hours of darkness through which we rode we had no issues with wildlife either. Through Yea and out onto the road heading west towards the Hume, we had the road to ourselves and all was right with the world. As the plan was to head up to the mountains from Corryong we did, however, have to endure 100kms of flattop on the Hume before escaping at Wodonga. A pause by the river just out of town recharged the batteries and we headed in search of better roads. The road between Wodonga and Corryong is a true delight and, with no traffic and enthusiasm, we enjoyed it immensely. By the time we got to Corryong it was poisonously hot again but we were assured by a local that it would be at least 10 degrees cooler in the mountains (it wasn’t).
I made a total hash of the ride over the mountains, missing every apex on the way and, by the time I got to Geehi Rest Area I was just about ready to pack it in. But a rest, a drink and a good talking to myself saw me manage the second half much better. By the time we hit the beautiful twisties at Thredbo, I was cruising and so in the groove that I totally missed seeing the deer that nearly cleaned up the car in front of us. Attentive, not. We pulled in to Jindabyne looking and feeling like little grease spots only to discover that a mate who I was going to tap for advice re accommodation was in Canberra. The town was packed to the doors with MTB riders and a big speedboat carnival was also happening that weekend. Fortunately, the local Tourist Information people booked us in to Troldhaugen Lodge on the hill overlooking town. What a place. Secure storage for the bikes, room with your own bathroom and continental breakfast for $70 for two!
Later, Caleb, the owner, took us down town in his own car so that we could get some dinner and picked us up after. Service with a smile. It rained while we were in town but it was dry when we left in the morning. Thursday had been the big day, 595kms over some very challenging roads. I was fearful what sort of shape I would be in for Friday and we tentatively planned a short day (178kms) to Bega and the final leg on the Saturday.
Onto the Snowy Mountains highway via Dalgety (fun) and down Brown Mountain. As usual, the surface was appalling, the logging trucks destroy is as soon as they fix it up. Coffee at the Bemboka Bakery, fuel at Bega, lunch at Batemans Bay Bakery (again) a milk shake at the Coffee Garage at Wandandian and home JUST, and I mean literally, just as a huge storm broke over Wollongong.
Total distance 2155kms. Oddly enough, I felt better on the Friday than I had any other day but Thursday had been the longest day. . Go figure The bikes performed flawlessly as VFRs do and proved what I already know, that the VFR750 is probably the best sports/tourer in the game, even though the model is now 20 years old. Lots more stories and snippets, but that will do. My title? A dreadful pun, I am afraid. Two VFRs make a V8. The rest is just dialect. Catch you next time.
jeffb says
Well done,Phil (and of course Paul). Not only some good roads to ride on but sounds like a good time with each other. Thanks for sharing. Great to read that you can now cope with such a tour. Jeff
Phil Hall says
Thanks, mate. It was fun. There were some times when the leg gave me hell, but I’m still super glad that I did it.
dunc says
great write up and pics phil
glad you were able to dodge the rainy weather and the leg heldup for the ride
cant think of any better riding partner than a brother like that
Phil Hall says
He’s the best, mate.