Leigh & Ray bisect New South Wales

[Tripodtiger]

If you read AdvRider, you may have seen this before.
This was from September 2013.

Saturday  21.9.

This was supposed to be a long shake down run of Leigh's recently completed 'Tiger Trek Too', that is his updated version of the previous sidecar that he built for me in 2010.  Except, it's wasn't 'recently complete'.  As I write this, he's still not finished it.  His good mate, Brian, loaned him a Honda NX650 Dominator outfit that had been built to compete in the South Australian Road Trials series.  Not ideal but it's still a sidecar and it was rideable.  How rideable was yet to be discovered.

Me, I just piled up my gear into Tiger Trek – my '96 Triumph Tiger 900 & LH sidecar – and set off from home for a liaison on the Sturt Hwy to meet Leigh in Euston, roughly mid way between his Adelaide & my Wagga Wagga homes.


Main channel of the Colleambally Irrigation Area.

A very frustrating start too, I might add.  I spent days trying to fix all of the little ancillary issues on the outfit – auxiliary power, the GPS, the chain oiler, fuel tank breathing and auxiliary fuel tank pump. The auxiliary pump failed two days before I set off, with a huge leak.  Covered that problem with 30 litres in jerry cans.  I was still within sight of home when the GPS said "No".  Then the satellite tracker stopped work after about five minutes.  And the oiler wasn't working.  Apparently, my efforts were in keeping with my 'muckanical' abilities.  But everything was working properly just a few days prior, honest.

Having resigned myself to the failures, I just poked along in no hurry. Perhaps the first time I've just cruised along the Sturt Hwy in over a decade.  Relax Raymond. At my first photo stop, I re-set the GPS – fixed.  I opened up the oiler – fixed, except it now went through oil at an amazing rate.  I put new batteries into the tracker.  Problems solved.


Tubbo shearing shed, out near Waddi



The 'birds are singing, sun is shining' approach nearly had an awful consequence.  About 50km east of Hay there were half a dozen hawks flying about 30 metres off the ground.  As steering wasn't a real issue, I split my attention between the road and the birds.  Maybe a bit too much on the birds?  Looking to the road ahead, I'm facing a Commodore on the wrong side of the road, overtaking a semi!  Fortunately, I had sufficient time to get on the brakes and pull off the road.  Luck.  No real skill involved.  Another second – yes, it was that close – and I'd not be writing this, I'd reckon.  Of course, a second at that speed is still about 50 metres.  The driver simply continued on, overtaking the semi, as though nothing had happened.  What's that about not letting oneself be involved in other's mistakes?

[Tripodtiger]

My repairs to the breathing of the bike's fuel tank seemed to work. At 265km it went onto reserve. 25km later, 1km short of Hay, it ran out.  Not sure what happened to my reserve range.  Out with a jerry can.  Up side was that my tank range had increased by 40km or so.  That's a win.  And when I fix the auxiliary pump...

Lunch in Hay demonstrated that beauty is not an answer to life's issues.  Self harm marks to the young girl serving in the shop was evidence of that. My scars aren't visible but I'm fortunate enough to be able to spend much of my time almost how I choose.  There would be many pithy lines I could type here but, you should find your own.

West of Hay, heading towards Balranald, I found I was being caught by a big 4WD and caravan!  There's a first.  I can imagine it takes a fair bit to accelerate the thing so, as it got towards the back of the outfit, I pulled over and let him go.  No point in making life difficult for anyone and it cost me about as much time as it does to blow my nose.  Maybe less, my nose is pretty big.

Slowing down to 95, I sat off the back of another 'van combo enjoying the views.  The earlier wake-up call hadn't sunk in?  No dramas this time and I just followed from Willow Vale dune, 50km east of Balranald, to 20km east of Euston.  One day, I'll set up a camera on that dune and take a long exposure for a star track and vehicle lights photo.  That's something I've been telling myself for 20 years now. One has to have aspirations.

I contacted Leigh from Euston.  He was around an hour and a half away, in Ouyen. Patiently sitting outside a cafe, I got to watch a group of country kids dolled up for a wedding, I reckoned.  The young girl wearing the flash dress over her football shorts proved they weren't from Melbourne. Then there was the family group in and out of the change rooms over a period of about 20 minutes.  I couldn't work out what they were doing, because no one seemed to get changed.  The town's water tank was about 80% full.  The copper walks to work, having time for a chat at the pub.  Harley riders prefer motels. Not much traffic turns off the highway.  Euston on a Saturday arvo.

There wasn't even any reason to get the camera out.

By the time of Leigh's arrival, I'd fixed up some camp sites and dented the supply of coffee and ice cream.

He was a bit concerned, was Leigh.  The NX was alarmingly slow on the highway, not that he knew what speed, as the speedo didn't work.  It was using oil, but that may have been exacerbated by the constant throttle.  He was doing a lot of work to ride it, as it was short and narrow, with long suspension – pretty much opposite what you need of a sidecar on the highway.  It steered nicely though.  And it got him out for planned two week ride.  That'd be the silver lining.

[Tripodtiger]

Being Grand Final night (AFL anyway) we broke normal convention and went to the pub.  Leigh's a Dockers fan and there was one young bloke who was boisterously supporting the Swans.  He was boisterous because, even though it was only 6.30pm, he was already half cut.  But he was a happy drunk.  The run of the game was epitomised in the bar when the young bloke knocked Leigh's Dockers cap off his head, kicked it high in the air as it fell, only to have it rebound off the wall behind Leigh's head and land in Leigh's right hand.  Nothing went wrong for the Dockers.  Swan's couldn't take a trick.

Sunday  22nd September


the river behind the 'van park.



Old mate 'havin a chat'.  Something about older blokes being attracted to the outfits?  Or are they just escaping the missus for a few minutes?

Sunday morning's first job was to clean the oil off the rear of the NX.  A bit of brake clean   from workers staying in the caravan park saw to that.  The level was off the dipstick but that proved to be only about 200ml.  Our main job was to buy supplies and top up the fuel.  Leigh had 20 litres extra and I was carrying 30.  The most difficult part was finding the supermarket in Robinvale.  Geez Louise! With no signage, the building looks more like a sports stadium. So we didn't find it until we asked.  Dumb facial expressions ensued.



We crossed paths with Chris, from Brisvegas, taking the long way home after going to a Ural rally in Taswegia.  We'd cross paths the following weekend at the Sidecar Rally, north of Bathurst.  There was also a couple from Mudbourne who'd "buried too many friends", decided to cash it all in and do the grey nomad thing before they went grey.  They now had a KLR650 and a 4WD camper.  All of us doing our own version of 'life', rather than 'exist'.  I'm not so stupid to not realise that some people don't have the resources or opportunity to do other than 'exist'.

[Tripodtiger]

Finally, onto un-sealed roads, where the sidecars work just that much better.


End of the bitumen for a few hundred kays




Cattle grids. A trap for the unwary.


There hasn't been water in the lakes around here in thousands of years

By 1.30, we'd managed to find our way to Mungo National Park camp. 


Leigh's flash camp chair kept on pretending to be an antenae

By 3pm we'd been through the visitor's centre and were organised to get to the Walls of China for sunset.

Now there is a point to remember about 'spectacular sunsets'.  They occur before sunset.  I've been to Mungo twice.  On both occasions there has been a small flow of visitors heading to the viewing area just as I'm leaving.  After sunset.  In Earth shadow.  Um, after sunset there is no more light to reflect the colours.  Leigh and I spent enough time to view both the change and range of colours of the sands.






















and now they arrive looking for the spectacular sunset


you can trick the camera into making it look brighter than it is


Later, we spent a very quiet night under the Milky Way.  Fantastic.

[Tripodtiger]

Monday 23rd September




The best place to see 'roos.  Not at 100km/h on a collision course.



On the bikes by 9am.  And that, despite both of us being up before 7am.  Hurried, we were not.  The weather had woken up with a head ache – overcast and starting to blow.  By the time we'd ridden the Mungo Loop, about 70km that took around 4 hours, it was fairly bleak. 



Neither of us had ridden the loop before.  Interest is found in the changing soil colours, the insects and lizards that aren't too hard to spot and riding sand drifts.  The riding was good on sidecars, turning on the throttle and the brakes.



There are a couple of camp grounds that the administrators have drummed up a fair bit over what they actually look.  Apart from the number of people camped there (none), there didn't appear too much different to the main camp ground.  Maybe you need to be an expert of some kind to appreciate the subtleties?

What may be of interest are the goat trap and Vigars Wells.

The goat trap is a circular pen around a dam, with water as the bait.  The plan is that the goats enter by jumping off a high race but can't escape.  Unless people come along and cut down the fence, that is.  I do wonder about the idea that those concerned for animal welfare would neglect to consider the fate of native species, plants and animals, which are displaced by goats.








Vigars Wells were the result of white settlers digging wells at a natural soak.  The well provided reliable water for travellers & their stock.  Probably displacing the natives - human and animal.  That is how it was.










preserving the well by covering it over & sealing it off

[Tripodtiger]

This is how the lakes now appear.  The rivers have long since changed course.


No sunset show on a day like today.  Good thing we visited yesterday!





At the end of the loop there is the ruin of 'Zanci'.  Optimism.
















Back at camp, we were surprised to discover the place had the appearance of a coastal caravan park.  There were families, 4WDs and camper trailers everywhere.  Our trip must be gaining notoriety.  So many people and they had brought a band to celebrate!  Actually, the Bourke Police & Community Outback Trek had descended on the place.  60+ vehicles with near enough to 200 people continuing a tradition that started 29 years earlier with a motorcycle ride from Bourke to Cameron Corner.  It must've got too soft over the years as there were no motorcyclists to be seen. 

So Leigh & I are sitting at the tents, musing over the loss of tranquillity, when this bloke walks up with his hair in a pony tail and a pair of green jeans on.  He starts to tell us something until I interrupt him with, "Last time I saw you, you were wearing pink jeans."  I think that put him off guard.  It was a bloke I used to work in the same section of the coppers with, Sullo.  We never worked together but were acquainted. He's now an ex-cop, playing music in a band, continuing to travel in the Trek that he first travelled with in the original tour.  Yes, they were going to get the music going a little later, he warned.

Back to it, considering the likelihood of bumping into someone you'd known 10 years earlier out here when another bloke wandered up.  You could've knocked me down with a feather, it was Marto.  I hadn't seen him since Mudgee in the mid '80's!  Nearly 30 years!  Sullo's band kicked off around 6 and played 'til just after 10, when someone complained about the noise.  It wasn't that loud.  I suppose one doesn't travel to Mungo and expect a band in the campground.  By the look of it, the bunch of young Europeans enjoyed it.

[Tripodtiger]

Tuesday 24th September  Mungo NP to Lake Cargelligo.

Our departure coincided with quite a number of the Trek participants.  It didn't look encouraging when they headed north, as were we.  I was thinking of the dust that we would be caught in, travelling faster than the 4 tonne set ups could maintain.  'Thankyou' passed through my helmet when I saw they were taking the Top Hut Road to Pooncarie whilst we kept heading north and east.



Snakes, lizards, 'roos, eagles and bloody emus (stupid birds).  Long views. Nothing that looks remotely like a hill.  The roads are graded deeper and deeper into the sand drifts.  Contrasts between the white sand of the lunette against the red soil and salt bush.  There has been a lot of road work.  Re-alignment and new grids.  Nothing matches my memory of my previous ride through here.  We just made the miles towards Clare Homestead, then Mossgiel and Hillston with short stops for jelly snakes and to re-fill the fuel tanks.




People live here.  Radio tower pre-dates any mobile telephone use.  It helps when the residents / tourists need the flying doctor or the kids need 'School of the Air'

I jumped on the NX for a bit.  Talk about narrow and twitchy. Much more work than my Trumpy but also a hell of a lot lighter.  Twin track was interesting as I had to be careful where the sidecar wheel was, trying to keep it in the track and the NX between the tracks.  No wonder Leigh was less eager to keep riding long into the afternoon than I was.  I suspect riding my Tiger simply created greater anticipation of completing his version.


What is left behind when I deliberately lock all three wheels

Not far west of Hillston I stopped to take a photo of the first true hill I'd seen probably since leaving Wagga.  I suspect it is Mount Daylight, but probably not.



Anyway, it's Hillston for lunch and I suppose I'd better ring home for the first time since Euston.  The Spot Tracker lets them know I'm alive & kicking.

Trying to think of a route to Lake Cargelligo, I learn that the road on both sides of the Lachlan River are now sealed.  I have been told that the Rankins Springs Rd, via Monia Gap, is also sealed but, that way can get us onto a bit of loose stuff around Lake Ballyrogan and Mt Daylight.  Pleasant surprise, the Rankins Springs isn't sealed and we continue to raise dust all the way to Mt Daylight Rd.  The steep hills and ridges are in stark contrast with the flat flood plain, all the more for the change of colour from maturing canola to the dark green mallee scrub and red rocks of the hills.  A dense cloud of red dust, raised by a dozer close to the road, reminds me that the brilliant colours in the fields are only superficial.



I pulled up a few kays along Mt Daylight Rd trying to figure out what happened to Lake Ballyrogan.  Where did it go?



Had I continued a further 100m, to the top of the rise, the answer would've been plain to see.  Brilliant afternoon sunlight reflecting off the water, with the remains of thousands of trees in silhouette. Nice.





Rather than looking for the track along the lake shore towards Brewster Weir, we continued east to Lake Cargelligo, where we queried the Ambos about a decent place to eat before renting some grass in the caravan park.  Leigh took the opportunity to drop a couple of links out of the chain that Brian was sure wouldn't be a drama.

[Sin_Tiger]

Epic 

[Tripodtiger]

Wednesday 25th September.  Lake Cargelligo to Wellington


Lake Cargelligo.  This is possibly the only scenic view in town?  Just like any other town, really

Early out – 8.30am! Leigh went and bought a couple of tubes of lip balm, just before I recovered two from one of the many pockets in my jacket.  Typical.

We followed the Lachlan River further east towards Condobolin, stopping at an historic Aboriginal site - 'Kings Grave' - at Gooboothery Hill'.



Two replica 'arborglyphs' had been erected to replace the original carvings that had been cut into the native cypress pines.  Apart from a couple of rusting star pickets, there didn't seem to be much to mark the actual grave of the historic king, who drowned whilst crossing the river.



The nearby 1914 stone & concrete cairn celebrates the first exploration by the Oxley & Evans group, mentioning the Aboriginal significance as an 'also'.  In 1914 Aboriginal history was quite literally an 'also ran'.  With all the cash being thrown around our major cities, one might think that a few dollars spent here might actually help interest in Aboriginal history & culture.



Close proximity to the river, together with some good seasons, has helped the Lachlan valley to the point of spectacular beauty.  Vivid green wheat and the flowering canola create a fantastic green and gold carpet across the paddocks.  Ploughed earth looks rich and healthy and even the normally grey natural scrub had a lush look to it.

As we reached Trundle, the modern industrial life took centre stage. Not because Trundle is either modern nor industrial.  A huge rock crusher was enroute to a new site at some mine somewhere.  The crew stopped and Leigh, he being of the mechanical mind, had a brief conversation with them about clearance and manoeuvring of the low loader.  It's amazing what they can do with some steel and hydraulics.


The pub in Trundle is quite small.

We re-fuelled at the tyre fitter.  Apart from the owner being typically jealous of our freedom, I noticed a 30 year old Landcruiser on the hoist with what appeared to be the oldest tyres in Christendom.   I do hope it was there for new ones.

Once we'd left Lake Cargelligo, we were moving into unfamiliar territory.  I slowed down a bit, relying on old NRMA maps to clarify the multitude of options on the GPS.  The combination helped us to stay clear of the dreaded bitumen, finding our way across to Alectown and Baldry.  For a good percentage of the time, I was riding on the right side of the road.  With the wind coming from my left, dust was blown off the road giving Leigh's NX cleaner air and a better view of my position out front.  Generally, he was within sight on the longer straights and it was only once that I stopped to wait.  He'd clobbered a Galah and needed a brief stop to recover from the impact.  I understand that need through previous experience.  For a little bird, they are really solid.



Hills! Trees! Curves!  There were even deep guttings through creek beds!



Later that day, winding our way through the hills south west of Wellington, I lost Leigh again.  Just before realising he wasn't behind, I'd had another exciting moment, this time a woman rounding a right hand bend straddling the centre line.  I'm attentive this time. Plenty of time to gesticulate after getting out of her way but, I don't think she's had any notion that I was even there.

Anyway, I did pull up, heading back to find Leigh on the side of the road pulling out the tools.  Not the chain, nor the oil this time.  It was the rear brake calliper locking on.  Pulling the master cylinder off the mount released the pressure but there is no obvious reason why it should seize.



I suggest that he's inadvertently resting his boot on the lever, perhaps?  He's not convinced but it is a possibility.  Whilst he's working, a mob of cattle wander down to have a look at something out of the ordinary.  I wandered over towards them and they wandered away.  When I wandered away, they wandered back.  Too & fro – that kept all of us amused for a few minutes.



Leigh is also questioning how far he wants to ride the NX.  It's hard work riding a sidecar anytime, but the NX is probably at another level.  It's designed for two people to race through paddocks and forests.  It only has limited power, being much better at accelerating and turning than it is at cruising.  Maybe we won't head south into the mountains next week?


Canola.  It used to be called Rape but, they changed the name for some reason.


I couldn't get the bike into a position to get the sun light on it. Fail.

Last time I'd visited Wellington was before the bridge was washed away.  I think that was in the mid 80's?  Tonight we booked into a cabin.  I can't deny that I was sufficiently concerned for the security of our bikes and gear that the idea of leaving them in a tent wasn't attractive.   The bikes received a bit more TLC, this time the air filters also got a look over. The Cow & Calf Hotel provided a hugely satisfying meal whilst all the gizmos were on chargers and the water evaporated from our washed clothing.  Domestic necessities were thus completed.

[Tripodtiger]

Epic?  If there was a ROFL icon, I'd put that in.  I just like writing up stories about where I go.  Possibly too much info for lots to read, but that's ok too.  And the photos are another hobby that I could take a lot more care with.  I hope you enjoy it.

On that, I am now much more likely to read about riding in Europe than I have been.  Maybe that's because I can see myself going there, getting a sidecar and doing some miles.  I'd love to spend a full year in Europe (and I could take the piss out of our US friends by typing  'It's supposed tobe a great country', but it may be missed, or mis-interpreted.  So ignore that I've typed that, please).  More stories, more photos, please.

[Tripodtiger]

Thursday 26th September  Wellington to Glen Davis.

This was one portion of the trip that I'd been looking forward to.  Heading over to Glen Davis.  What I hadn't anticipated was how enjoyable the ride would turn out to be.  From Wellington we headed off the main road, as you may expect, towards the Cudgegong River at 12 Mile, then to Yarrabin and Mudgee.



After the narrowly avoiding a third head-on not far from Wellington – I encountered a local in his 4wd at a crest, only realising he was there from the dust cloud being highlighted in the rising sun – we followed a fantastic winding road that was very reminiscent of The Bridle Track, without the steep and narrow pinch half way along.  At 12 Mile an old stone bridge crossed the Cudgegong with a concrete causeway maybe a hundred metres up stream.  We stopped and played in the water for no reason other than it was a pleasant thing to do.







Back on the road the land started to have a familiar look about it.  I worked in Mudgee in the early 80's, spending a lot of time driving around the country side not really knowing exactly where I was.  Familiar names on signposts spark good memories as well as some rather unpleasant ones that came with the occupation. The eastern end of Yarrabin Rd is sealed and closely follows a creek.  I took the opportunity to play, leaving Leigh far behind.  The bike doesn't get any lean angle, the body does.  I know why people race sidecars.  It's hard work and immensely satisfying.

Mudgee has had a lot of refurbishment over the last 20 or so years.  It's a whole lot busier than back then, as well.  Whilst we only stopped in the centre of town, it has clearly grown, as well as modernised.  A sign of the times is found in a butcher's shop now operating as a cafe. The butchery decor remained, creating the cafe's theme.

Continuing east we made for Lue with the further intention of getting off the bitumen there.  'No Through Road' stuck on a post at the turn off forced us to remain on the hard stuff until after lunch, past Rylestone.  I had been telling Leigh about the contrast between Rylestone and Kandos.  Rylestone is a rural town whilst Kandos is an industrial town.  Rylestone has pleasant views across rolling hills and farm lands.  Kandos has concrete manufacturing, over head material transport using thousands of steel gantries and buckets slung on miles of cable plus years of accumulated dust and debris.


Lunch in a park in Rylestone.  A change from cooking on the ground.

We never got to Kandos, instead finding a turn off to Glen Davis whilst still in Rylestone.  Maybe the place has had a huge make over and I'm telling tales of old.

The road approaching Glen Davis village funnels travellers into an ever narrowing valley between vertical sandstone cliffs.  The view becomes progressively more impressive. We barely slow as the bitumen runs out.  At the top of a long climb I realised that Leigh is missing again.  Another U bolt.  I find him on the side of the road once more emphatically claiming "I definitely didn't have my foot on it (the rear brake lever) this time!"  Seemingly in confirmation of that, the bike did it again a little while later. By now Leigh has the fix down to a couple of minutes and the required tools are immediately to hand.

Glen Davis is the days target and, as per usual, we arrive with plenty of daylight remaining to easily settle in.  The camp ground in the village is on a slope but has toilets and showers.  We set up in the lee of some trees, the wind having come up strongly.  Around home, the winds are destructive.  Here they are just unsettling, especially from inside a tent.

There was sufficient daylight to jump on the bikes and have a scout around.  I took a heap of photographs, trying to record the spectacular colours of the cliffs in the late afternoon light. 














We rode down a track into the Wollemi National Park, finding Coorongooba camp ground just 5 minutes from Glen Davis.  We came to the agreed conclusion that we should have camped here and, that this would be a really good substitute location for the sidecar rally, or any rally for that matter.  Beautiful spot.  You really should put this one on your list of camp grounds to visit.  We didn't have long to look around as light was fading.  We didn't learn how much farther the road would lead into the park.  That requires more time and a bit more planning.  Our plan is to have a look around Glen Davis and head off towards the Gardens of Stone National Park tomorrow.

We returned to our camp to find a rather strange European gent had moved in adjacent.  That was after stuffing up another fellow's video of the cliffs changing colours by riding through & adding engine noise and voices to his audio track.  He'll have to edit the audio.  Our neighbour, on the other hand, pulled out an axe and wandered off, coming back with a small supply of firewood which he then did not light.  One other camper sat motionless outside his caravan with his music so loud that it would've been clear on the other side of the valley.  How's the tranquillity now?

[Tripodtiger]

http://youtu.be/BqybBUrxQNg

[Tripodtiger]

Friday, 27th September  Glen Davis to Bathurst.


Today's Friday. Today's Friday.  Friday is burgers and beers, Thursday is canned Tuna & noodles, Wednesday is ....

Our objective is to meet Troy, at Bathurst, this evening.  The other part of today's plan was to use the spare time to have a look around.

Firstly, we returned to the national park and went wandering towards the shale oil factory ruins.  There is a gate at the northern side.  On the southern side, one can just walk through the scrub to gain a great view from the hills.  The information boards around suggest that the whole place was a bit of a money pit for the fairly brief period that it operated.  Realistically, it would have been no more difficult to get machinery & equipment here than any other part of the country over the ranges but, this failed, even as a town.  Maybe that was because it was at the blind end of a valley as opposed to being on a road that continued through to somewhere else?



















MX boots aren't conducive to walking, so we headed for Capertee.  A bit of play racing for the benefit of the video camera as we left the national park followed by the ride into Capertee. 

On the first sighting of a 'Gardens of Stone' National Park, I turned off the road and headed into the bush.  On these recce sections, Leigh typically went ahead, trying to assess the possible difficulties that I may face on the heavier Triumph.  If I couldn't get up a hill, that wouldn't really pose too much problem.  The problem was if I went down a hill that I couldn't get back up.  We didn't really have any clue what the track ahead would be like, so there was a fair bit of thought put into any descent in case we had to re-trace our steps.


We did have to use bitumen roads sometimes

With that in mind, our first little look was stopped after maybe a kilometre, halfway down a hill, when it became suddenly steeper.  A quick 3 point turn, plenty of revs, slip the clutch and the Tiger climbed back out without any drama.  On to Capertee then, it is.

Now this little town has changed.  It was very dreary and dilapidated but now, it seemed all was shiny and new!  Heaps more traffic around than I'd ever seen here before.  So many 4wds towing bikes, camper trailer or boats, it must've become a bit of a gold mine for whomever stuck it out, or was able to buy at the right time.

Inspecting some maps, it looked like there was access into the park from Ben Bullen, 20 km further south.  That gave us access along Moffitts Trail towards Baal Bone Gap and Wolgan Rd.  The signpost had been corrected, indicating that Wolgan Rd was 26.4km, not 25 as the NP&WS had written on the board.



Again, Leigh did a lot of the leading and I did a lot of stopping, photographing and GPS checking.  A fair bit of caution was exercised, not simply because of the possibility of getting stuck and having to look for a tow out but because 'the boyz' had been out playing in the mud, digging deep ruts with their 40" mud tyres.  Generally, we had to go way wide around the supposed line of the track, following fresh paths formed by others who didn't have 'the boyz' ground clearance, or perhaps didn't really want to play in the mud.  I don't expect that the people whom cause this type of damage would care if the track was locked off due to damage.  They would just find somewhere else to wreck.






Does this mean this was once all underwater?  It is all sandstone.


I don't know whatmy sidecar did to deserve a lecture from Leigh.  He's giving it a severe talking to, even got the index finger raised!

After about 18km, the track we were on (was it still Moffitt's Trail?) entered a very narrow valley.  With cliffs on either side, it was quite cool and moist, having that Jurassic Park look of thousands of fern trees under a tall, eucalypt canopy.  I would not want to be there in heavy rain, but it would be spectacular.







And so we reached our first serious climb.  Leigh pottered up the easy bit, stopping in the shadows below a cliff, about half way up.  I wanted a much better look.  Armed with the cameras, I first walked up to Leigh seriously questioning my ability to get the Triumph up the hill, especially the final 10 metres.  Conversation followed and Leigh puttered the NX up the last little bit.  I returned to the Triumph and gassed it!  I followed the plan we'd reached, hug the right side until the first level bit, spear to the left, then right and attack the last bit moving back to the left.  I made the mistake of backing off the throttle just before the last little bit, on a big rock.  That almost had me going to the bottom again.  I got on it again and she just sat there spinning the rear tyre, inching forward until the rock levelled.  Woo Hoo!




How steep?  You can get some idea by seeing that it's the Tiger visible at the bottom, over Leigh's shoulder.  Decent climb.

Leigh jumped on the NX and continued out of sight.  I organised myself and was just about to hit the starter when I heard a silly laugh from just around another rock face.  As I rode up, Leigh said "That's a no from us!"  I marked the first climb on the GPS as 'Steep'.  This was 'Too Steep'.  Leigh reckoned that it would be a really challenge for a good competition sidecar with two working to get it up.  There was the first straight climb, then some deep ruts at a left bend, followed by a further climb to a huge rock.  The leading edge of the rock was nearly vertical and, from where I stood, looked to be at least half a metre tall.  Following that, it just kept going up, with a hard right that took the track surface out of view.  Is this what they call 'adventure riding'?

http://youtu.be/JWeORsisOLU


The first 50m would've been a challenge.  Then it got harder.


Well less than half way up 'Too Steep'.


"That's a 'no' from us".  If we had a winch...???



And all the hills that we stopped at, wondering if I would be able to get the Tiger back up? 
No drama what so ever.  I even went up one in second, only realising that when I reached the top with the tiniest of a struggle, coped with through fanning the clutch.  And that was our first encounter with the Garden of Stone National Park.  Enjoyed it, thoroughly.

We next pulled up in Cullen Bullen, perusing maps for a route to Bathurst whilst eating our tuna rolls.  That was after we de-frosted the rolls on the engine cases.  Without the benefit of some local knowledge, the quest for some dirt roads was a failure. Not because there were none to be found but because there were far too many.  I knew that once we ventured into the state forests, any tracks on maps would become irreconcilable with the tracks on the ground.  I really didn't want to spend an age trying to work out a route through a forest that would see us take considerable time to get a few kays.  We did try a couple of roads that the maps indicated may get us through but, in each case, they ended up at a farm house or just stopped.  We gave up and hit the Great Western Highway somewhere around Sunny Corner. 

The Highway was the most frightening part of the trip.  Leigh was stuck to about 85km/h on the NX, amongst drivers who really had no idea or who were hell bent on achieving their own objectives, irrespective of how that effected anyone else.  I kept my speed down, not wanting to leave him behind but at the same time I could accelerate through some areas to not impede the truckies, in particular.  Cars can pass, but the truckies are working and it's a bit more of an effort for them, so I did what I could to get out of their way.  Of course, as soon as you move over, no one wants to let you back in.  Several times I had to get off the road as drivers just forced their way past me.

Despite the best efforts of some drivers, we did make it into Bathurst without panel or bodily damage and found a caravan park cabin for the night.  Troy arrived a while later and there was a bunch of kids so excited to see us they were doing cartwheels and back flips on a trampoline.

[Mustang]

awesome job ray
thanks for taking us along

[Sin_Tiger]

"Enjoy" isn't really adequate to describe this read