Yesterday’s weather was predicted to be pretty close to perfect. Helena was attending an art course for the day so what should I do? I mean, it’s simple, innit? It was Goldie’s turn to get the cobwebs out so I took care of the business that had to be taken care of here and then I rolled out for a ride.
I just LOVE the Historic Vehicle log book scheme. And, with TWO historic bikes, I have 120 days of free riding without having to be part of a club event, what’s not to like? Now the log book isn’t really a book, it’s just a piece of paper which I reckon is a bit of a chiz, to be honest. The Victorian scheme has a REAL log book and I have Bexie’s here that Margie sent to me with the bike, very cool, actually. But the log book thing is pretty easy. You fill in the date, who is riding the bike, your signature and the destination of the ride.
It was getting pretty warm by the time I set out so I decided I’d stay close to the coast, Bald Hill, the Royal National Park and home. BUT, destinations can be subject to change without notice and, as I was hooting up Mount Ousley on the first leg, I thought I’d change the plan. I took the Appin Road towards Campbelltown instead heading pretty much in the opposite direction. At Appin I turned left and headed towards Douglas Park, a road that I have traversed many times on both two wheels and four. It was cooler along the tops than it had been on the coast but, dropping down the switchback road that is Broughton Pass, the conditions heated up dramatically. The heat had already started melting the bitumen on the most of the tight hairpins dropping down to the river so care was required. The picnic/swimming area at the river was packed with cars (mostly 4WDs) and I tip-toed up the hill out of the river and paused for a few happy snaps along the cliffs that lower in over the narrow little road. (above).
The view looking back is spectacular as the massive bridge for the freeway towers over the valley, quite awesome, actually.
I followed the largely deserted roads (it was this way for the whole afternoon) till I hit the Menangle Road where I turned left and headed down towards Picton. I love this road, it has something for everyone. I rode straight past the George Hotel in the main street (packed with Harleys as usual) and headed up the hill under the railway line on what used to be the Hume Highway. It still amazes me that this road was the main road between Sydney and Melbourne.
I thought that it would be cool to take a photo of Goldie in front of an old locomotive so I turned at the roundabout and headed towards Thirlmere. This is another great little road with twisties to burn and, again, totally deserted. I had to keep reminding myself that this was a Sunday afternoon! When I got to the Rail Museum I was disappointed to find that you just can’t seen anything really worthwhile there from the road any more; if you want to see you have to pay up and go inside – a sign of the times, I guess. I got one photo outside the fence but it doesn’t really have the impact I was hoping it would.
So I went back out to the highway and wended my way through the picturesque little towns along the route, Tahmoor, Bargo, hoping to find a coffee shop, but found none, the locals are missing the boat, I fear. I cut right after Bargo and headed down through Yanderra and Yerinbool (again, there was a coffee shop in Yanderrra but it was closed). I took the Old South Road turnoff and wound along the (very) bumpy road that passes Mittagong Airport. I needed a break so I stopped and took a couple of pics (a Wing at the airport – geddit?)
At the top of the hill I turned left onto The Range Road. Now you know that this road is exceptionally narrow, bumpy as and inhabited by the locals who drive down the middle of the road in their SUVs without any care whatsoever about who might be coming the other way. There are numerous crests and blind corners and I realised pretty much as soon as I started that I was asking way too much of the ancient suspension on Goldie. Near the end of the road is a wonderful example of recreating history which is, however, well worth a look. A local member of the landed gentry has spent the last year or so importing tons of rocks and having them built into a convict-style dry stone wall. It really is very impressive.
Ever the glutton for punishment I turned left onto Tourist Road and started heading home. The comparison between Goldie and Bexie on this rough old track was stark. However, I was just moseying along so, don’t worry, be happy. Tourist Road pops you out onto the top of Macquarie Pass and the harsh reality of Sunday afternoons on the highlands suddenly hit. The road was packed with traffic heading down the mountain.
By now another break was the ticket so I stopped, took a couple of photos and contemplated my options. There weren’t any. Jamberoo Pass, my preferred way back to the coast, is still closed for repairs after a huge landslip a few months ago so it was going to be suck it up and endure the traffic.
I tried to be clever and wait at the edge of the road and slip into a “bubble” where the road was sort of clear but it didn’t work. Just after the 2nd hairpin I caught the traffic ahead and they were bumper-to-bumper and brake lights on continually. Never mind, I mostly get a good run so it served me right for trying to do the Pass on a Sunday afternoon.
I arrived home just a couple of minutes ahead of Helena’s arriving home from her art day so I thought I’d timed it pretty well. About 200 kms for the afternoon at a leisurely pace with plenty of stops to admire the scenery. A very pleasant Sunday afternoon.
A couple of sidelights: Heading up the freeway at the start of my ride I passed an outing of a Triumph owner’s group (that’s 4 wheeled Triumphs, not two-wheeled) 4 Stags, a 2500S Sedan, a TR6 and a TR8. Delightful. Despite the great afternoon there were very few bikes on the road although that could simply be because I chose some roads that are less travelled.
I stayed up to watch the MotoGp last night, boy am I tired this morning. Great to see one of my personal favourites, Joan Mir, win the 2020 World Championship and a brilliant ride by Aussie Jack Miller who went within an ace of winning the race. I don’t think I’ll stay up late next weekend at Portimao. I’ll probably just watch the Moto3 as the title isn’t decided yet. Moto2? Nope, doesn’t really do it for me though Remy is going well. I just can’t stomach hearing the commentators fawning over Same Lowes all the time.
Catch you soon, thanks for reading.
