BOM has been predicting rain all week so I have held off setting out on a ride. But weather forecasting is an imprecise science at best and, as is often the case, they bombed out (did you see what I did there?) each day. So, yesterday morning I decided that I’d defy the predictions and head out anyway. It was a brisk Saturday morning but the sky was clear and the conditions looked pretty much ideal.
The ambient temperature gauge on the VFR is pretty accurate so you can guess that I planned for the ride with several layers, thermals, balaclava under my helmet and my mid-season gloves. It didn’t take long for me to reap the rewards of my planning.
The plan was to do a Bells Line of Road loop, heading back home through Lithgow, Oberon, Goulburn and home.
My “other” motorcycle forum, Netrider, does a mid-winter ride every year called The Brass Monkey Ride and it is usually based around Oberon for reasons that are obvious. Sadly, it hasn’t been run for the last few years but the guy who organises it let me know earlier in the week that he was planning a 2023 version and to watch this space. So this ride was to be my own cold-weather ride as well as a reconnoiter for the BMR in July.
Heading up the mountain towards Picton and the temperature dropped as I expected. For the first time in a long, long, time, I put on my toasties and thanked the good people at Oxford for their excellent product. By the time I reached Picton the temperature had dropped to 6 and it fluctuated between there and 10 for pretty much the rest of the day.
More roadworks have been done along the backroad to Penrith and for that I was grateful. I got a surprisingly clear run through the by-pass (though it was pretty early, to be fair) and I had to stop the bike from turning right at the last roundabout like it usually does as I was heading straight ahead to Richmond.
Pit stop at North Richmond and I started heading up the mountain. Most motorcyclists complain about the Bells Line of Road (“It’s no good now with all the speed limits – it used to be fantastic, yada, yada, yada) but I still like it, restrictions and all. There are quite a few overtaking opportunities (though I seemed to be the one being over-taken more often than not) and, when the road opened out after Mount Tomah I had the chance to explore the wonderful twisties and admire the fabulous scenery. It was certainly cold but the sun was out and the pluses out-weighed the minuses.
I arrived at Lithgow in the company of two other motorcyclists, a VERY cautious rider on a BMW1200 and a VERY large rider on a Harley. In the middle of town they turned right and I went straight ahead so I didn’t see them again.
East along the GWH until the Oberon/Jenolan Caves turn-off where I paused for a quick piccie and to let some of the traffic get ahead so I could enjoy the fabulous run down to the river and up the other side.
As usual, it didn’t disappoint and, having negotiated the now-permanent stop-go at Hampton, I rolled in to Oberon for a pause and a fuel stop. Along with Guyra on the New England Highway and Walcha on the Oxley Highway, Oberon is known as one of the coldest towns in NSW and it certainly was yesterday.
Unfortunately, the local council seems to have dropped the ball when it comes to road maintenance on the road from Oberon to Abercrombie. Whereas it is usually a delight with dozens of sweeping fast, corners, it is now a hodge-podge of potholes, semi-repaired patches and traps that are seemingly deliberately designed to throw you off-line and upset your rhythm. Added to the problem was that, since leaving Oberon, a strong wind had picked up and it was to plague me for the rest of the ride home. Oh, and the temperature at Black Springs, had dropped to 4 degrees.
The road climbing up out of the Abercrombie bridge is always poor and yesterday was no exception. I was glad to roll into Taralga for a pit stop, a quick snack and an eye to the flag. The sky had now become quite dark and storm clouds were rolling in. I was hoping that my roll of the dice wasn’t going to come back and bite me during the closing stages of the ride.
This is where I had been, fortunately it was looking quite a bit more promising where I was GOING.
Amazingly, almost as soon as I left Taralga, the clouds cleared and the sun come out and it stayed sunny for the rest of the trip.
Long before I rolled into Goulburn I had decided that I would take the highway home rather than the backroad through Tallong, Wingello and Bundanoon. The wind was, if anything, getting worse and the prospect of fallen trees and branches plus the potholed surface of the backroad made the decision a no-brainer.
Playing dodgem cars with the traffic on the Hume is never fun and the added risk of being on the bike made my caution level even higher. But, I made it and rolled into home at around 3 o’clock, cold and tired but pleased to have done my own icicle ride (hence the title of today’s blog). 548kms, a pretty respectable day.
Here’s Relive’s record of the day.
