There were 40 of us at the Hume servo for this ride after we topped up for our fill of liquid gold. What a great turn-out for another wet and miserable day. Damn, too many zeros. That was 4, not 40. Ride Leader Ian exercised a modicum of braveness, or a fear of being ridiculed, and also arrived early to see who else might turn up with the forecast rain and black horizon. He had shown far more fortitude than Ride Leader Andrew No-Show of the last ride south and was thereafter honoured with the tag of Ian Storm-Rider. The four I had counted during the ‘Waving hello – Not drowning’ arrival reduced to 3 riders as one decided that getting wet was not his idea of a great Sunday outing.
It was a small turnout and there was some cancellation discussion as the day was clearly not looking like being fun on a motorcycle. However, unlike Andrew No-Show, Ian Storm-Rider was keen enough to hold firm on the programmed ride and stood tall as he gave his abbreviated briefing to the assembled throng of 3 followers. That was 3 including himself, otherwise it was an assembled throng of 2. At least we didn’t have to jostle for positions to hear the short speech that basically said “Follow me”. It is noted for posterity that Andrew No-Show was again a No-Show and wasn’t one of the two followers.
I would like to be able describe the various tones of starters engaging engines and the sweet burble of exhausts as our motorcycles came to life and we prepared to depart. Unfortunately, the noises were muffled by the dark and gloomy skies on the horizon and heavy sense of wetness in the air. The only indication that start-up had been called was the fog of vapour from warming exhausts and engines. Ian Storm-Rider led us, as leaders do, onto the Monaro Highway and south into the darkening skies of New South Wales. I thanked BMW for providing me with a bike that should not have as much weather protection as it does, and closed my visor to keep the increasing drizzle off my impact-resistant lightly-tinted glasses. I thought you needed to know that.
|BMW GS dealing with a minor puddle encountered on the Jindy Jaunt|
Ian Storm-Rider parted the waters ahead of us as we headed south in light intermittent rain. I was behind him, so much of the light rain had been disbursed or absorbed by the time I hit the spot in front of me. Or was the weather clearing again? Yes, it was definitely better, but Ian Fair-Weather has far less of a manly ring to it than Ian Storm-Rider, so the title remains. It would prove useful later in the day as we dodged the black horizons. We decided to take a break at Cooma and imbibed on coffees to keep our innards warm. Ian’s pie was a tribute to something that was once edible. Large quantities of sauce can cover anything. Chris’ Turkish coffee was probably equally edible. The journey continued.
The faster roads between Cooma and Dalgety were, well, faster, so that was the fun bit for the day, followed by another bout of fun between Dalgety and Jindabyne. The roads were damp but not soaked, although some of the causeways had a trickle of water and the occasional deep puddle was enough to keep you on your toes. See the photos. Andrew No-Show would have been proud. The run to Jindabyne was also good and uneventful. I noted a large trout in the Snowy River and even managed a quick photo. It was circling some motorcyclists for some reason or another. I kept my eyes open for the blond bombshell with the badge and handcuffs, but she was nowhere to be seen. Probably just as well. I believe the stainless steel Police Station bunks are hard and cold.
|Trout in Snowy|
Lunch was a relatively fast affair, the dark skies towards home threatening more than just light rain. It was nothing for Ian Storm-Rider and his hardy crew of misfits. However, there was a very dark horizon to our north-west that promised a serious soaking if we dallied too long, so we called ‘time’ and headed home. We relished the relative dryness of the ride, further shaming Andrew No-Show. Recent rain had filled some of the minor streams with muddy water and these were flowing to parched dams. My photo shows how bad it was.
|Damp roads between Cooma and Jindabyne|
Participants in this southern excursion were:
Ride Leader Ian Storm-Rider on the Wing.
Chris on the Trans-continental Tourer.
Mick the scribe on the Gelande Strasse.
Absent without apology – Andrew No-Show.