Oops, make that three hardy riders. Continuing the replay, one of the four decided that the ominous weather forecast, combined with wretched looking weather radar on his phone, meant that our expedition south was probably jinxed if not totally doomed. He left and headed north in search of sunshine.
And indeed, the forecast was less than auspicious – showers and strong winds followed by afternoon rain – and the sky looked suitably black and tumultuous. However, it turned out to be a Goldilocks sort of day in which all the major factors were just right.
How could this be? Well, let me explain. Firstly, the temperature. If you take a temperature range of 0° (too cold) to 40° (too hot), 20° is just right, and that was more or less the prevailing temperature during the ride.
Secondly, the wind speed. If you take a wind speed range of 0 km/h (too calm) to 100 km/h (too windy), 50 km/h is just right, and that is what we got. Lastly, rainfall. On a range from 0 mm (too dry) to 2 mm (too wet), 1 mm is just right and that was the day’s total, spread over several pathetic little showers that failed to dampen our enthusiasm, let alone our bodies.
Our three bikesketeers departed Hume at 9:05am and stopped an hour later for coffee at the Turkish café just before the roundabout in Cooma. The coffee was good but the “famous” dog’s eye was nothing to write home about. At least there was plenty of free dead horse.
From there we headed SSW on the Maffra road and then west on Snowy River Way to Jindabyne. These roads have had a bit of resurfacing and were generally smooth, although often still lacking in paintwork. All the towns and villages on the Monaro have also got bright new signs welcoming travellers to their much-loved little metropolises.
From Jindabyne the view to the west was grey, wet and bleak so we shelved any thoughts of taking the Alpine Way to the Wildbrumby Distillery for lunch and instead turned right, rode through town, across the dam wall and up the other side to East Jindabyne. Right next to the servo on the highway there’s an eatery called Tracie’s Café that scores 4½ stars on Trip Advisor. Worth a try, I thought.
First up, the place was tiny, cluttered and blessed with a besser block décor. Secondly, my request for an egg and bacon roll was turned down. It seems they had neither eggs nor bacon and even the existence of a roll was a bit doubtful. We stared blankly at the blackboard menu until finally someone suggested a toastie. So that was what Mick and I had – ham, cheese and tomato toasties. Chris had blueberry pie and a blueberry smoothie and possibly a blueberry toastie, though I can’t really remember for sure.
From there we headed home via the usual (and really the only) route. Oddly, as we rode into Cooma an elderly couple (even older than us) were standing in the gutter, poking a week-old wombat carcass with a stick, perhaps hoping it would miraculously come back to life and sing and dance for them. It almost looked like it was happening, but that might just have been the maggots being prodded into action.
We got home around 2 pm, in plenty of time to watch the Melbourne F1 GP on telly. It had been an easy, fun and Goldilocktical 400 km day.
Ian Paterson GL1800
Mick Beltrame R1200GSLC
Chris Dietzel GTR1400
Jeff Jarvis Softail Deluxe
|The trip report from the Speedometer 55 app on my iPhone*|
* there is no truth in the rumor that Photoshop has been employed to mask evidence of "spirited" riding (Ed.)