Well, it’s Bathurst weekend so, what did I do? I went for a ride. I haven’t watched the so-called great race for years and every year it gets less and less interesting. And I haven’t done a long ride since I fell and fractured my humerus at the end of February (yes, 9 months ago) so it was time to hit the road (not literally) before the promised deluges hit us again. Memo to the weather man, it is SUPPOSED to be summer, didn’t you read it?
The weather was promising and, with everyone at home watching Bathurst, I figured it wouldn’t be the usual manic Sunday out on the highway. I lit out at 0615, winter jacket as the maximum was supposed to be 19 and mid-season gloves. The latter was a good choice since the ambient along the Picton road was 13 and it showed signs of getting colder. For the first time in a long time I actually switched on my toasties (yes, I’m getting soft).
As expected, the road was deserted, and better was to come. No traffic along the Oaks Road and petrol stop at the servo in Silverdale, expensive but still way cheaper than the others I saw, it’s always a good place to fuel up.
Speaking of Silverdale, I had a close wildlife encounter just on the outskirts of town. I’d slowed to 60 when a small deer appeared in my vision, on my right and heading across the road at 90 degrees. There SHOULD have been a collision, he/she should have hit me amidships but, thanks to my continuing forward motion and his/her inability to get adequate traction on the slippery bitumen, he/she passed across the road behind me and I continued on. Such a dry analysis of the incident makes it sound like it took place slowly but, in actuality, it was over in a split second and no amount of my riding skill/judgement was involved in the avoidance. As I have remarked on many occasions, when boy-racer is narrating to you how he got out of a sticky situation by counter-steering and trail braking at the same time, narrowly avoiding an accident, smile sweetly and let him have his illusions. The fact is that, one moment you’re riding along at peace with God and man and the next you’re sliding along the road on your bum wondering what the hell happened. Anyway, by the time I got to the servo, the heart rate had dropped back to normal and I filled up and kept going.
The road continued to be deserted all the way through to Windsor and, though the skies were threatening, there was blue sky up ahead and I pressed on. Did I say that the roads were deserted? Ah, yes. Between Wilberforce and Grey Gums (a distance of around 80kms) I encountered ONE car, a 4WD towing a trailer and he moved over and let me pass as soon as he noticed I was there. Deb’s Kerbside Eats was packed so I didn’t stop, preferring to press on to GGC and try my luck there. As I pulled into the bike park there were TWO bikes there, mine made three.
I ordered some toast and a hot chocolate and spent a wonderful half an hour chatting to Kimmie who sat with me out on the verandah. We caught up and she was bemoaning how the weather was affecting her trade, if only the rain would go away. She also related how Singelton Council and the police had been making life difficult during the COVID crisis. It goes like this. Policeman: You can’t have your customers sitting down at the tables while they drink their coffee. Kimmie: Well, where can they sit, it’s hard to eat and drink standing up? Policeman: Well, they can sit on the logs. Kimmie: Wow, how clever this virus is, It can infect people sitting at the tables but it can’t infect the people sitting on the logs about a metre away from the tables (see picture above). I feel her frustration. Nevertheless, it was great to see her again. A couple of more bikes arrived just before I left, heading north in search of the Ten Mile.
Between GGC and the tree, there was not one single vehicle going my way, extraordinary. I had so far had a traffic-free run on all my favourite bits of the Putty. It NEARLY came to an end just near the Putty turnoff, however. Cresting the rise, I came upon a moron in a Land Cruiser doing a U turn across the double unbroken lines, towing a 27′ caravan. The road was completely blocked and I knew that, even at 80, there was no way I could stop in time. He was inching the combination from my right to left, into a cleared patch on the side of the road. I had time to do a quick check of the road ahead and, as I peeked being the slowly disappearing tail of the caravan, I could see that the road was clear. I got off the brakes, jinked right and whistled onto the wrong side of the road and threaded the needle between the caravan and the gravel. In reference to the statement above, this WAS a situation where situational awareness, experience and a modicum of skill gave me the time to make an informed decision. I thought about going back and giving the driver a piece of my mind but I didn’t think he would use it so I pressed on.
My phenomenal luck continued with a clear run for the rest of the way, all through the Ten Mile and to the tree (sadly butchered by the local council for reasons that are not clear). Evidently, they don’t want people stopping there any more as the sign saying that it was coming up has been removed and the vegetation around about is quickly taking over the area. Singleton Council, what can I say?
A quick pause to check the chicken strips and it was back on the road, heading south and another brilliant run through the Ten Mile. An “L” plate driver going my way in a little Corolla saw me coming when I was a long way back and kindly moved over and my progress was unimpeded. By the way, I left the tree at 1030 so you can see how good a run I got.
It was still cold but clear but, up ahead, the sky looked very threatening and, sure enough, about 30kms south of GGC it started to spit and then the rain set in. It rained all the way then, through my fuel stop at Cranebrook and into Penrith and only started easing up around The Oaks. Despite the inconvenience I pressed on and even the run down the mountain into the Colo was fun despite the wet road. A couple of learners had pulled out of Debs but they also pulled over and let me by so, again, my progress had been uninterrupted.
From around the Oaks there were intermittent showers but the clothes started to dry due to the wind effect and, even though there were a couple of showers, I arrived home at 1415 not too badly inconvenienced by the inclement conditions. My gear is now hanging on the line and should dry out completely by the end of the day today.
Almost 600kms in exactly 8 hours, not bad, given the conditions. How do I feel this morning? Well, in spite of me thinking that I’d be wiped out, I slept well (obviously) and I feel pretty chipper as I type this around 1000 on Monday morning. Looking at the BOM weather app for the rest of the week, I’m glad I went, it’s going to be tipping down all the way through to next Sunday/Monday.
Oh, and the “hardly ferocious”? My car racing mates who have been around for a while will get the pun. If you don’t, don’t worry, it really isn’t that funny.
