LOOKING UP...WHEN YOU'RE DOWN

Precious the DR ready for relaunch!

Listening to BLACK AND BLUE Chain 1971

Genuine Aussie blues reflecting our convict past.

Fun song to play while learning guitar

Singer Matt Taylor left  Chain that year

 to join a commune...a what?

Bam...down again.

The sun's one of those curious cold bastards today. Blazing away from sparrows but giving nothing back. How can it shine all day and still be so cold...lazy bastard.  Hmph. I'm in a line of traffic just out of Orange battling roadworks, semis, and the bloody cold. Bathurst is still maybe an hour away with three fifty K behind me after leaving Nyngan and heading down the Banjo Paterson Way.

I tip into a newly made roundabout and as I get to max lean it all turns to shit.

The front tyre decides to chuck it in and let go...

...I mean really let go...huh oh oh... 

I get dumped on my ass at 50k and sent sliding behind the bike onto the verge. My mind is in 

Nicely ventilated for summer perhaps?

total confusion overload sending WTF and no no no signals and is already racing ahead forming worst case scenarios. The moment we stop Deano disappears and Mr Adrenalin arrives. He drags my bruised bones upright, notes no apparent fractures (unusual), observes a trashed jacket, and then makes a pathetic attempt to pick up the bike...and fails. Yeh nah. 

Bumper to bumper traffic heading for Sydney file past noting what their mums have always told them...motorbikes are dangerous.

This is the good bit. There's almost no
 bottom left in it!

I stand in the dizzy warmth of Mr Shock and Mr Adrenalin while contemplating taking off all the luggage to get the bike upright. F!@#k how did this happen aaaaargh. A couple of lads in a Hilux pull over and pop the DR upright. It appears almost unmarked but the right hand saddlebag is totally trashed with my camping gear peeping out at the cold world. Yeh nah thanks fellas I'm all good...ambulance...nah nah I'm good to go never better.  I swing my leg over, ooo000oh (cue old person noise), thumb the starter and restart the journey...again. My brain is exploding with how, why, what now, my arm hurts, I'm over this, don't frighten Marianne, where an I gonna sleep tonight, where am I gonna get bags, I shoulda checked the bike more and,

...am I really really not hurt?

I dig and dig but somehow I can't see any silver lining today...

...sometimes life is just shit.

Pushin

You've been putting in 'n not getting back

Pushing and pushing but still getting smacked

Jumpin higher and higher just can't clear the stack

Aargh nonstop setbacks spinnin life off track.

Dean

 North East

I arrive back home from my practice lap of Victoria on Friday afternoon and it's weird...just feels wrong. Marianne's confused, the dog's confused, weird weird weird. I give myself a day to form a new plan, attempt to transform Precious the DR to from doubtful to optimistic finisher, and be ready for Sunday morning. Well two out of three, I leave Sunday morning...with a new plan. I'm going to go north east and cut in on the original route behind Sydney. I really would have liked to go west but my foray into Victoria within the Covid outbreak makes crossing the strict West Australian border possibly out of the question so, 

north east I must go.

Following the mobile retirement home trail!

Leaving the second time just ain't the same. Hmm here we go again. I zoom onto the Clare road and cut out on the Broken Hill turnoff. The sun is out but there's a freezing headwind ripping at my helmet. Oh for some warmth. I give in to the elements at Burra and smash down a cappa and a pie thinking ya know, this might work. I run into endless roadworks between Burra and Broken Hill but the sun stays out and the wind finally drops. I pass lines of caravans on the way and as I enter Broken Hill there's another line of vans waiting to enter the Tourist Park. (Upmarket name for caravan park...possibly so they can charge more!)

 I do a lap of the town and then decide...I'll save money and camp. 

OK, back to the tourist park and join the lineup to sign in. Ya got a booking? No,

The tiny tent returns...not only the smallest
tent in the park but the only one!

 but I just need a little patch for my tent. Well I can squeeze you in that'll be $35. No no just a camp site unpowered. Yes that'll be $35 but you better be quick cos we're full. Oh...OK.  I remount, find my site and pitch my tiny tent. Surprisingly the little mongrel is up in twenty minutes but...I'm the only tent in the entire park...hmm.

Hope ya bed's warm, it was 

only two degrees last night.

I'm amazed as I wander about the park that the entire demographic appears to be well over sixty! It's like Victor Harbour has been bombed and the population has been evacuated in Land Cruisers and enormous vans creating this elderly refugee camp!  Caravaners are wonderful people, always ready for a yarn and erm, advice on how cold it was last night. Good on em. Most have worked all their lives, payed their taxes, raised families and done the right thing. The next morning the shower block is abuzz with folks with towels over their shoulder in striped pajamas and quilted dressing gowns banging on about fuel consumption, which roads to take, and the best place to empty the dunny. Yeh good on em

Barrier Highway monument...surrounded by garbage.
OK I've banged on about garbage in other countries
now it's our turn...what a bloody mess!
 Who does this...just dumpin ya shit on the side of the road...
Why?.

How far and wide can you imagine?

 

One of the few times I enjoyed traffic lights.
Time to stop, turn off, and soak up the vastness.
Breathe in...breathe out...

Nyngan and beyond

The trouble with camping is you lose a couple of hundred kilometres a day due to lost time faffing about packing up. By the time I get going from Broken Hill I figure Cobar might be easy but Nyngan would be better. I slot into a steady 105kph, sit back and enjoy the sunny conditions and endless plains.

Where?

Ah yes, all this straight road needs the go to 
boredom breaker...the shadow photo!

The western NSW countryside  is magnificent.

 I really don't have the photography skills to capture the endless red vistas that constantly open up before me. Appearing over rises so slight and so long, that take forever to transcend, they burst forth with panoramas of red rock, native pine, and stunted salt bush all the way to the next hazy horizon . I refuel mid afternoon in Cobar and get chatting to some caravanners. They tell me the caravan park just before Nyngan is a ripper so I remount and keep going. Between Cobar and Nyngan the countryside is infested with a goat plague. Fortunately they're smarter than roos and shy away from the road when vehicles approach but there are literally hundreds and hundreds feeding alongside the road. The park at Nyngan is situated on the river on the way into town and is a beauty. Oddly it's not that busy. Hmm where have all those caravans from Broken Hill gone? As the weather is still good I camp again aaaand, once again, I'm the only one there with a tent! That night I have dinner at the local RSL with a bunch of dirt riders who have been on a trip to Cameron's corner who give me a bunch of must do rides in the NSW central highlands...hmm...just gotta get there. There's rain on the way in a day or two so I figure to head for Bathurst down the beautiful Banjo Patterson Way, grab a cheap room for a couple of days, and have a look around. 

 Ah the best laid plans...

Nyngan campsite next to the river with
real grass and no mossies!

Hmm breakin the drought at seven bucks a go!

This little gem in Yeoval on the
 Banjo Patterson Way.

 

I want to live in a place where you have time
to think, I'll weld up a lizard on a bike...
and then do it!

                                                   Down and up in Bathurst

After my altercation with the road in Orange I head to the only motorcycle dealership in Bathurst looking for some replacement saddlebags and maybe a jacket. I get lucky with the bags and the guys there cut me some discount and help me out. The shredded jacket will have to wait though...hmm hope it doesn't rain.    

Banjo Patterson monument Yeoval. 
Aaah yes, Aussie arc welder art.

Cold, and possibly still suffering a little shock I go on the hunt for somewhere to stay. I get lucky and  quickly find...the Kelso Hotel! Gedday mate need a room for couple of days er who do I see. Yeh that'd be me just let me get these beers to those blokes and...hang on...hey love, ya left ya keno tickets behind, yeh, on the bar...yeh yeh yeh the beers are coming furr chrissake. Right, $70 a night I'll put ya down for a couple of days no cancellation fee...errr room eleven'll do ya. Cheers mate. Basecamp sorted...    

Listening to RIDE the Vines 2004

Proper Aussie fusion of punk and grunge

from the crowd surfing days...

Check the Youtube clip...

...these guys properly inhabit their music!

Turn it up tonight.

            

Clutches fixed anywhere anytime...
..and .properly...hmmm

 

REALITY CHECK 

I'm laying on the bed in the Kelso pub (this one smells more of sweat than smoke), with the heater on and the TV providing background noise. I've got a guts full of spaghetti bolognaise which was the cheapest on the menu and to be honest, tasted like crap...yeh yeh ya get what you pay for. It's been pouring with rain and freezing for about twelve hours now but as that's what was forecasted it's all good I guess. The DR has a nasty driveline vibration that's bugged me the whole trip, The countershaft splines are prettty worn so that's what I'm thinking...hmm they don't cure themselves though. Yesterday I zoomed about trying to find someone who could patch my jacket to no avail. Nah mate just buy a new one, I'd have to unpick the whole seam. Oh dear too hard. Later I revisited the local Suzuki dealership looking for a new front sprocket and got talking to the senior mechanic regarding the vibration problem. He was convinced the problem was with the new clutch I had fitted and it needed to come back out and be refitted properly..hmmm. OK. As they were  booked up they kindly allowed me to rip the clutch out there and then on the floor, which, to their surprise, I did...and...after his inspection...it's perfect...

...as I thought.

 Hmm, mixed feelings...and another day wasted...

. Well, the weather picks up tomorrow, I've taped my jacket together with Tarzan's Grip Tape (true!), the new cheapy saddlebags are working OK, I'm gonna do a lap of the racetrack first and then, thanks to the dirt bike guys I met in Nyngan, I've got a bag of great roads to ride nearby...albeit very carefully! (been wanting to chuck an "albeit" in for ages...tick...and yes I know the above sentence is far to long!)

Onwards and upwards...towards Queensland

 ...and some warmth!

NEXT BLOG

TIME TO TURN LEFT AND GO NORTH

SHOW ME A REAL SUN...A WARM ONE!

THANKS FOR YOUR COMMENTS

I TRULY APPECIATE THEM AND READ THEM ALL

DEAN