Ulysses Club, Canberra Branch Website
Rather than risk members exposure to unnecessary risk this foray into NSW will be rescheduled to another time.
If members who miss this notice do go to the nominated starting point at Bungendore IGA carpark, a rep will advise them and suggest an ACT alternative such as a Three Peaks and a coffee stop.
Whilst winter is not yet over, I suspect that history will record last Wednesday as the coldest day for a Ulysses ride this year. As the Norwegians say, “There’s no such thing as bad weather, just inappropriate clothing”. Appropriately dressed, the three riders for the day were all on BMW R1250’s, thus proving, if proof were needed, that it’s only riders of Teutonic machines who have the fortitude for such conditions whilst riders of Japanese, American, English and Italian machines stay tucked-up in bed.
At our ride briefing it was a fine and sunny zero degrees, but as we progressed to Cooma the temperature dropped. By the time we reached Bredbo, we were riding in fog and it was 3.5 below; there were some patches of ice on the highway, but none caused problems. Still, the warmth of the Lott Café in Cooma was welcome and, as we sat drinking coffee, the fog cleared, the sun came out again and the temperature rose.
The next section of the ride took us through Rocky Plain, where the elevation is around 1200 metres, there are countless sweeping bends and hardly any other traffic. This section has views of the Crackenback Range, which is currently well covered in snow. Rocky Plain also gets snow occasionally, but today it was clear and dry.
A fuel stop in Jindabyne followed, then the run to Dalgety along the Snowy River Way. This road has a short section of tight corners, but is mostly sweeping bends, and took us to our lunch stop at Buckley’s Crossing Hotel.
Having settled in for lunch, Dave had what I believe is known as a ‘wardrobe malfunction’, which resulted in him removing his motorcycle pants. Now, it’s not every day that you get to see a Ulysses colleague take off his pants in a public bar. Thankfully he was wearing track pants underneath, and our delicate sensibilities were not offended.
Next came Maffra Road. This road traverses the largely treeless part of the Monaro south of Cooma and can be dire on a windy day. Once again we were in luck; there was hardly any wind, the sun was shining, and by now it was around seven degrees. The final stretch home along the Monaro Highway had the usual traffic, but these days there are enough passing lanes to make the road bearable.
The crew:
Like the movie, seven motorcyclists from seven backgrounds
were brought to together by the Ulysses Club on a cold Canberra winter’s day to
protect their diminishing youth from the demoralising powers of ageing,
hypertension and incontinence. I’m not sure if we succeeded but we certainly
gave it a shot on our Sunday ride to Taralga.
The Magnificent Seven turned up at the Watson BP on a day that
could only be described as bleak. But we were not about to let a little wind
and single digit temperature ruin what is always a magnificent ride through the
Upper Lachlan Shire. One by one we turned up on our pride and joy ready to
release some endorphins on some of the best twisty roads in the region.
Maritta arrived early, as all good leaders do, on her Kawasaki Vulcan 900 with about five layers of clothing and tea cosy which eventually found its way onto her head. The old girl (the bike) looked primed to go but one could sense Maritta hands were not going to fare well in the cold wind. My arrival on the Moto Guzzi California 1400 was of course modest and graced with Italian flare and style. Like Hansel and Gretel in a gingerbread house Kevin (a Yul Brynner look alike) and Andrew always turn up for a ride, meal and a good chat. In fact the Luftwaffe (BMWs) were in short supply with only two turning up. The Bavarian boys are usually more dominant in their presence.
Kris shimmied up on her mean looking Hayabusa. I don’t know what it is but there’s something about a Hayabusa that oozes confidence. With a rider like Kris who has completed many rider training courses and race track meets it’s no wonder we were all impressed. Fun fact – Hayabusa is Japanese for Peregrine Falcon or Blackbird killer. Not sure if that is meant to be a dig at Honda.
George and his Triumph Tiger soon took on the persona of Inspector Gadget. He took great delight in showing us every gadget he had to combat the cold weather. Then like a Borg drone from Star Trek regenerating itself George suddenly plugged himself into his bike. ‘How cool’ I thought. My excitement soon waned when he explained that it was just his heated vest. I was still impressed.
Then like a cowboy
riding his faithful steed, Chris moseyed up on his Kawasaki GTR1400. This old
girl has done over 170,000 km and like Chris, is still going strong. A good
example of ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’. Chris recons he could get another
100,000 km out of her so we won’t be seeing him on anything new too soon.
After a quick briefing from Maritta we all took off like rebel pensioners without a cause. All was good through Sutton and Gundaroo until we hit Gunning. On the outskirts of town Kevin, who always likes to ride tail-end Charlie, suddenly stopped. This of course led to three other riders stopping or slowing down to see if he was OK. Kevin shooed us away in frustration, so we left him alone. We later found out that his Wiggles compilation had stopped playing so he had to stop and “reconnect to his fandangle electric Bluetooth wireless device”. There’s one in every group!
Now most people know that the ride from Gunning to Crookwell and then Taralga is a blast. Beautiful sweeping corners on tarmac as smooth as a babies bum. Our ride was no different until we came across the curse of any motorcyclist. A slow country driver who drives at 70 km/h on bends and 120 km/h on the straights. Why God created such a creature is anyone’s guess. Maybe they were sent to test our patience. Who knows? We eventually all passed the old fella safely and resumed our orderly formation when suddenly all hell broke loose. Like a school kid who had just heard the bell for little lunch Andrew couldn’t help himself and opened up the beamer passing all of us in one move. This of course set the other kids off and they followed suit leaving Maritta, George and myself in their wake. With heated handgrips on max and George’ s vest on 11 we eventually arrived at Taralga which was a balmy 7°C. Maritta promptly vowed to never ride in these parts in winter again.
We quickly gathered inside and warmed ourselves up by the fire and feasted pizza, burgers, chips, soup and a couple parma’s for the farmers. Good food and conversations were being had by all when Andrew dropped one of the most dangerous questions you can ask in a group of middle-class Australians over 50. Do you caravan or do you not caravan after you retire? I won’t go into detail but let’s just say we eventually agreed to disagree. It was a good-natured debate and laughs were had by all.
With our bellies full and the problems of the world solved it was time to head forhome. Chris had to help out with a Bunnings BBQ so he upped and flew to coup. Maritta stopped off at Crookwell to visit one of her many relatives while the rest of us rode on to Gunning for the usual coffee at the Old Hume Café and then home.
Thank you Maritta for organising such a great ride and to my fellow riders for the laughs and good company. You really are the Magnificent Seven.
Steven Bardwell
The Magnificent Seven
PLEASE CHECK YOUR CALENDARS BEFORE SETTING OUT
