Bombala, almost exactly half way between Sydney and Melbourne.
Day two of our adventure started at Kitchen Eighty Ate in the main street of Bombala. We walked in at around 7 to hear the music being played on an iPad. Jimmy Buffet’s “I have found me a home.” What an omen for the day that was.
After a nourishing BER and a coffee, it was on the road with us. Up the highway to Cooma and then south into the Snowies. Well, that was the plan, anyway. It was pretty cold, it always is along the tops but, just outside of Nimitabel it started to rain. Ah, the usual dilemma. Do you press on and hope that it will stop or do you get wetter while struggling into your “wets”. We opted to stop. Now my wet weather suit is a one-piece and it protects extremely well, but I haven’t worn it for a long time and a problem emerged.
I’ve never worn the suit with my winter jacket (that has inserts in the shoulders) and my back protector and it became clear that I just couldn’t get the thing on. Fortunately, Paul was there and helped but it illustrated that I’d better update my “wets” because I wouldn’t be able to use this suit if I was travelling by myself.
Of course, Sod’s Law of Motorcycling kicked in soon after. Sod’s Law states that, as soon as you stop to put in your wet weather gear, the rain stops. It wasn’t QUITE straight away, but, by the time we got to Cooma, it was dry. By now the temperature had dropped dramatically so we decided to leave the “wets” on as an added layer against the cold.
I must add here that TWK has excellent wet weather protection built-in. Raising the (manually adjusted) screen to the highest level stopped the rain from hitting my chest and it looked as if the mirrors partially protected my hands from the rain. Which was just as well because I only had one pair of gloves with me and that was the summer MotoDry ones I was wearing. The fairing also diverts the rain around the legs and my rain suit stayed pretty dry.
A pit stop at Adaminaby where the trout has now finally been painted (but in the wrong colours) and assessment of how we were going. It was now dry but the wind was VERY blustery and the road was being littered with the Autumn leaves endemic to the season and the road had regular large puddles as well. Still, we stuck to The Plan and pressed on.
In light of the conditions, however, we decided to stay on the highway and proceed through to Corryong, our afternoon destination. But, as with most plans, the ride leader took a wrong turn (well, it wasn’t a wrong turn, it was just an alternative route that he had decided we WOULDN’T take but then he did) Goat Ridge Road leads onto Snow Ridge Road and they are challenging, narrow, technical and fabulous pieces of tarmac. They lead down the mountain to the Tumut Ponds Dam and it was part the way down there when I realised that I had actually done this route before, back on the very first Illawarra Riders Snowy Ride.
Under ideal conditions they are awesome roads to ride but the conditions were far from that. In fact, once we got up into the tree line they deteriorated dramatically. The road was covered, literally, with tree bark from the gums, saplings and tree branches and rocks that had fallen out of the cliffs along the road side.
Instead of a blitz through some fabulous twisties, it became a ride of great care, constantly dodging the debris that covered the whole road and being forced to slow to much slower speeds on left-hand corners as there was no way of knowing what the conditions would be like on the way out of the corner. It sounds horrible but it was just demanding and the stop at the dam for some rest and a photo or two was most welcome.
The poor conditions continued until we dropped out of the tree line and we started to make up some time. The day was never intended to be a long one and we were already getting near its end. Instead of heading to Khankoban, however, we turned off before it and headed west towards Bringenbrong for reasons that escaped me. Paul was the leader so my job was just to follow. I was getting a bit weary by this stage, we hadn’t travelled that far but the concentration was intense and I needed a break. Again I cursed the lack of an intercom and was actually looking for a chance to get by so I could suggest a stop when his indicator went on and we pulled into a little roadside rest stop on the riverside just before the bridge that crossed the river into Victoria.
Any port in a storm, they say, but Paul’s reasoning soon became clear. The local artistic community had chosen this little park to erect a giant aluminium yabby, yes, I kid you not, and here is the proof.
However, the yabby was not the main story, as it turns out. Just behind him (her?) was a picnic table and I noted a couple sitting at the table. Doing the friendly tourist thing, I wandered over and was amazed to see that the whole table was covered with food, all packaged into ration-pack arrangements. Now I had noticed a canoe pulled up on the bank was we rode in and the whole story soon emerged. The young man was preparing to paddle downstream from here to Albury, a distance of around 200kms, camp each night and these were his provisions for the trip. Really. His partner was helping him pack before she headed back to Melbourne to let him do the journey solo. They even offered me some Daryll Lea licorice which was great as Paul hates licorice!!
While we were stopped a couple of very noisy bikes blasted by and we were to find out more about them soon.
It was only about 20kms to Corryong now and, after the break, the rest of the journey seemed easy and it was. We pulled in to the Bottom Hotel (yes), booked in and unpacked. The rooms are at the back of the hotel and look out onto the mountains, spectacular.
But that’s not all. Unlike most motels these days that no longer provide some biscuits to have with your cuppa, this room had the full fixings for a continental breakfast, including 4 slices of bread to make toast, provided free of charge when we booked in.
Just as I rode in I saw Paul chatting with the two riders who had passed us at our last stop. A South African gentleman on an 900 Yamaha and his daughter on a Yamaha MT09. He took delight into telling us that they had left Eden that morning and had been belting along at over the ton when conditions allowed. Crazy. Nevertheless, the camaraderie of the road kicked in, he asked if he could take a photo of us and we agreed and they blasted off.
After unpacking we wandered off down the street in pursuit of a coffee (the bistro didn’t open till 5 and we couldn’t wait that long.) At the far end of the main street we found a cafe and were ushered into the back room which served as the town cinema and had, according to the lady, much more comfortable seats (she was right). The Black Sheep Cafe, note it in your diary. There were two gentlemen already there, an older gent tucking into a piece of battered fish and a younger man with a little baby resting on his shoulder. Ken was the older man and he was Colin’s dad and the little girl’s grandfather. Colin was doing babysitting duty while his wife was doing her shift at the cafe.
We quickly got into a conversation about bikes, motorsports, Formula One and, eventually, the stupidity of Electric Vehicles. After what didn’t seem like long but was actually over an hour we said our farewells. As we were leaving, Colin ducked into the kitchen and emerged with two containers of Red Velvet Cake.
“It’s been great talking with you guys,” he said, “Here’s some dessert for you to have later.” Gotta love country towns.
We went back to the room, lay down and had a little kip then headed up to the bistro for dinner. They have a Seniors Menu so we chose the grilled barramundi with chips and salad for $16!! Yes!
It was pretty busy at the pub on Tuesday night so we decided to lash out and go and get some dessert (we kept the cake for later) and had their signature dessert, waffles and ice cream. $14.
I hear you asking if this was a birthday tour or a gourmet one; the answer is, yes.
Not a long day today, just shy of 300kms but some very intense riding made it seem like a lot more. We slept the sleep of honest labourers and prepared for Day 3.
