Editors Note: I promised i’d get this post out today, though due to technical difficulties, I can’t upload photos (damn firewalls) so these will be added tonight. Rest assured though they will be added (well, i’m going on a ride tonight, so maybe tomorrow…)
As with all good things, all days riding the bike are fantastic, and today was to be no exception to that rule…
Our journey today was to make our way up the Putty Road, punctuated with long dragging slaloms and two ends of tight, twisty brilliance that would make any motorcyclist drool in anticipation. The downside is that the road is notorious for our friendly police officer rivals (damn coppers!), but let’s not let that distract us from what was to be a fantastic day.
But before I start my tale, you’ll notice in a moment that i’m sitting on the back of an FJR1300, the land barge of the motorcycle world (GoldWings are not motorcycles, motorcycles do not tow trailers and do not have a reverse gear). This pleasurable addition to my day started when I received a call late Friday night informing me that I was receiving one of these class rides for a whole week while they resolved the ‘minor’ technical difficulties when they were attempting to install my Radguard radiator, by putting a pin-hole leak in my radiator(!).
Bless dealerships and their stupid mechanics….
[insert here the google map .kml file]
Outline of our journey
An early morning start (damn 7:30am starts!) and sucking up the last segments of our collective testicles due to the cold weather, we braved the cheap, nasty sustenance of the Miky-D’s variety, washed down with some fine red bull and took out twenty minutes to ‘admire’ our collective penis extensions (there were around 30 bikes aging from prehistoric to week-old weapons).
[insert photos here of bikes @ McDonalds Windsor]
The ugly mugs @ the start of the run. Some of us needed to change out of our silk panties are whining about the cold, but getting on the road would fix that.
After a relatively spirited start, we got ourselves caught in a 20 minute patch of rain, and as any motoryclist knows, rain = pain. Rain soaks into your leathers, into your gloves, freezes you to the core and generally puts a massive dampener on the speed that can otherwise be attained if hte sun is beaming down on you. I had flashed images of a mate who SMS’d me on Friday night coaxing me on a Saturday ride on the old pacific highway (as an aside, I spent half the day doing that as well!) and wondered if my 350k journey was going to end in me looking like a drowned rat.
Thankfully the gods intervened and bought out the beautiful weather. After another uneventful hour of riding through the firs section of the twisties, we arrived at the famous halfway house. Imagine 50+ motorcycles, heavy, greasy food and unlimited quanities of sport-drink refreshments and ridiculously-expensive-monopoly-priced premium fuel, and you have this place.
It was at the HWH that we were lucky enough to catch word of others misfortune (getting caught speeding … 55k’s over at that … :() and then very assuredly road our road machines at the allotted speed limit until we had passed both of them.
[insert photos of HWH]
Still ugly, but having a good time (and thankfully prepped about speeding ticket evasion)
(rant mode on)
It’s at this juncture that I must ask the question, exactly what is the logic behind having two sets of police officers, in the twisty part of the mountains to pull motorcyclists over for?!?! I mean when it comes to killing ourselves, if you’re on a bike, the only person coming off second best is you. We are 3-4 hours away from Sydney, away from traffic, away from harms way and still we’re victimised….
(rant mode off)
Onwards and upwards we made our way into bumfuck-Singleton for fuel. For all those readers from Singleton, I too grew up in a bumfuck town, so get over yourselves :)…. From there we made a (shall we say) very spirited run down the road into Wollombi where we stopped at Route33 Cafe.
The newly christned putty-run crew @ Wollombi
Another great motorcyclists pub, unfortunately this time it was filled with 7,394 ‘fully sick’ WRX’s and the WRX club of Sydney. The wankfest there was simply a sight for sore eyes, they all had their matching shirts, matching caps and i’m confident loose fitting jeans so they could all hold their penises high when they jerked themselves off when they were back in the car.
Of course there were probably four females in the entire procession, and all of them wanted to talk to us, the scruffy motorcyclists 
After waiting upwards of an hour wait for a burger (what else does one eat on these rides?) we pushed on back down for another fantastic run (not so spirited, but ‘enjoyable’) onto the old pacific highway and quickly dropped in at the Road Warriors Cafe for a final round of Red Bull and then onto home.
All in all we had a fantastic day. The 6 of us all seemed to ride a similar pace, good company all round and I look forward to the next ride with them.
Adam
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