Life at Chez Hall is a bit hectic at the moment. Two of Helena’s cousins are visiting from Finland and it is our responsibility (of course) to be good hosts and show them all the interesting things that the Illawarra has to offer in the brief amount of time that they will be here. Thus there has been numerous tourist attractions, visits to beaches, shopping at most every shop that is open and, for the last couple of days, they have been staying in a caravan down the coast and exploring the further south coast.
Of course, that has left me at home with the quietness and solitude that that offers and the company of three crazy cats who I have been feeding, caring for, cleaning their litter trays and etc, etc, etc. It sounds tedious but it’s not and I have managed to fill the days with plenty of profitable stuff.
Of course, the “normal” responsibilities continue with chores and nursing home concerts. Yesterday was such a day but even busier. In the morning I had my usual Wednesday morning gym session with my own personal instructor who seems to be able to be able to be both charming and torturous in roughly equal measure. Home at the mid-morning and then back out in the afternoon for a concert at Unanderra then home for dinner and a well-earned rest. No afternoon nap, you’d notice and it’s probably that fact that led to me breaking out this morning. OK, I admit I’m getting on a bit but a full day of errands and stuff finds me pretty much tuckered out in the evening.
Looking at the clock at 1830 last night and realising that I was already tired was a bit depressing but I toughed it out for a little longer and finally admitted defeat at 2030 where I piled into bed with a good book and a stern warning to the cats not to disturb me during the night (they had done so, seriously, on the previous night).
Now, normally, if I get engrossed in a good yarn I can read for hours, sometimes knocking over a whole book in a night, but Wednesday night was not such a night. By about 2045 I was struggling to keep my eyes open so I admitted defeat, turned the light off and rolled over into the arms of Morpheous. I admit that the empty calendar entry for today HAD crossed my mind but that was furthest from my thoughts. The cats heeded my warning and I didn’t hear anything from them for the rest of the night so that was a bonus.
But, lo and behold, at 0300 this morning I awoke from a deep sleep and, despite my best efforts, was unable to return to it. A quick calculation confirmed that I had already been asleep for 7 hours and I realised that that was probably as much sleep as I was going to get. So, what to do? I COULD read my book again but a ride seemed like a much better alternative.
Now I haven’t ridden at night for literally years. A combination of loving my sleep too much, a lurking fear of late-night wildlife and sorry tales from friends about lurid encounters at night has pretty much turned me off the idea. NOW, a disclaimer. Most of you know that my early days of riding consisted of a huge number of night rides, particularly to and from my brother’s place in the Hunter Valley and thus involving numerous laps of the Putty Road. Every time I think about how I survived that, I am grateful to my guardian angel for protecting me from my own stupidity.
BUT, I have now owned TWK for more than half a year and I have yet to ride it at night, that is, fully in the dark. The other evening on our Ice Cream Ride to Kiama, one of my friends remarked that my lights were astonishingly bright so I thought that today would be an opportunity to do a real-world test and see just how good modern day bikes lights are like.
By 0330 I was suited up ready to go and, after the last-minute security check of all things domestic, the stand was up and the wheels were turning at 0345.
I love this picture, It reminds me of the scene from “On Any Sunday” where Mert Lawill is working in his garage and the only light you can see it the garage lights spilling out onto the driveway.
First stop was just down the street to get a picture of what the lights look like on low beam and I have to say I was more than just a little impressed. As well as having a huge, wide, spread, the penetration over a distance seemed very much more than anything I had ever experienced in my motorcycling career.
I waited till I was up on the Appin Road for a really dark section of road and then I tried high beam. Wowsers!
Suffice it to say that my test had had far better results than I had ever expected.
So, that taken care of, I pressed on up the Northern Road, through Penrith and to my first designated fuel stop, the Shell Servo at Cranebroook (picture above) and, what the hell? Overnight the fuel prices had sky rocketed from below $2 p/l to well over it. Oh well, you have to have it if you want to travel, haven’t you? Suffice it to say that I was less than pleased to find that every other service station I encountered today still had petrol for UNDER $2 per litre.
I was amazed at the constant stream of traffic coming from out of town, all the lemmings heading in for another day of work. The lights were coping well with the constant changing from low to high beam and back again and I found that I started to regain the skills that are needed to be able to see when faced with constant lights in your eyes from the opposing cars.
The plan was to do the Putty but, by the time I had crawled all the way from Colo to Colo Heights behind a slow-moving semi-trailer, my enthusiasm for the project had started to wane. I pulled in at around 0600 at the Caltex, grabbed my water bottle and settled in for a little break until the servo opened.
Sure enough, the super-diligent Indian gentleman who runs the show, pulled in just a few minutes later. He apologised that it would take about 20 minutes for his coffee machine to warm up so I demurred and settled for an ice coffee instead.
By now the first rays of sunlight were appearing and the first view of what turned out to be a spectacular sunrise became visible through the trees.
It was then that I decided that I had proved what I had set out to prove and that it was time to head home. Yes, I know I always lampoon Sydney riders who ride from the Western Suburbs to the Caltex at Colo Heights and claim that they had ridden the Putty. I my defence I had ridden a considerably greater distance to get there and was going to make many more kilometres before I got home.
I stopped several times going back down the mountain to get some more sunrise pics and it was then that I decided that, rather than repeat the ride up on the way home I should do something different. So, I cut west at the Kurrajong turnoff, wound my way across to the Bells Line of Road and down to Richmond.
The road from Richmond brought me into Penrith so I decided that I’d take the back road home. I still hadn’t eaten so it was time to address that issue. I stopped at Mulgoa at what used to be called Peppercorn (after the huge peppercorn tree in the front yard). It’s now called The Bunker, one of a chain of coffee shops and very corporate now (incidentally, for any Rugby League fans, I’m sure they will realise that this is a very poor choice of name).
I did note a very clever piece of marketing today, just as a matter of interest. The owner of a coffee van had parked the van on the footpath across the road from Mulgoa Public School and was doing a roaring trade with the parents just as the kids were being dropped off to school. I wonder how long it will be before others follow his lead?
The tree is still there (thankfully) so I took the obligatory photo of the bike parked under it and had a very nice coffee and a plate of raisin toast. A very pleasant break in the trip.
Home via Picton, Mount Keira Road and the M1. Back by 1030 with 370kms on the dial.
Night riding. I don’t think I will hurry to do it again even though I saw no nasties at any stage. But, as a proof of concept it was ideal and I now can say that I have tested out the lights on TWK and they are brilliant (did you see what I did there?)
