[Jackflash]

Day 1, 22 April:

A mate of mine, who owns a bike transport company in Victoria and has owned his own motorcycle tour company here in Australia, put out a call on farcebook and the bikeme forum to get together at Hay and Ivanhoe in central western NSW over the Anzac Day weekend here in Oz.
When I realised that I could get the necessary time off work on 2 months notice, I threw my hat in the ring. We often have to apply 6 months in advance to get the dates we want.
As my 650 Transalp is still waiting on me to decide how to sort out its HISS problem, the Suzuki Xf650 got the nod as my transport of choice. Its forks needed rechroming due to pitting but with ideas of putting a better set of forks and front brake on the old Z750 twin, I bought a good set off fleabay.
As luck would have it they arrived 3 days prior to departure and were fitted I time. The internals were swapped as the forks on it came with gold valves and drilled damper tubes.
It didn't get a test ride until departure day due to life getting in the way.

Off with the old and on with the new(ish).

Departure day and its raining, it wouldn't be a Jack's bike trip if it didn't rain. When I diff start of I found out where some of the fork oil is spilled had landed...... on the header pipe.

My second fuel stop, Clermont, about 275km south west of my home town and still raining. I thought the coastal ranges would be a cut off for the rain, but not this time. My destination for the night was Alpha, the childhood home town of my father. The population when I spent several weeks working there in the '80s - 500, the population today, about 100 and still home to some life long family friends. It's About 180km from Clermont to Alpha with no towns, villages etc in between just large cattle stations and a school to educate the kids of these stations.

Middle of nowhere intersection.

What were they thinking when they have the school this name? About half way from Clermont to Alpha.

The sealed road ends about 30km out of Clermont and starts again about 70km out of Alpha. It had rained fairly hard on the last 20km of gravel and I had an interesting ride on Karoo Street tyres inflated for sealed roads. The bike was covered in road grime/ mud and looked top haves a bad oil leak. Mostly suspension oil I have come to realise.

I arrived in Alpha at about 5pm, having aimed to be there at around the close of business as my accommodation for the night was with Peter who runs the local newsagent and general hardware store. Timing is everything and Peter drove past on his way home as I refuelled.
Arriving at the family home I learned that his mum Daphne, whom I met as a child and had known most of my life, struggles to remember my late parents, and couldn't work or where I fitted into the picture. Peter's sister Trish looks after their mum during the day while he's at work and cooks the evening meal for the whole clan, Peter, their brother Chris, the local baker, mum Daphne, her own daughter, and, when he's home from work 300km away, her own husband. Chris arrived home from work as we ate tea, and stayed a bit later than he usually would top catch up
Peter and I were up late catching up, only to be awoken early by Daphne concerned about the strange man in the spare room.
Maps say 466km for the day but my odo said 455km

 

[Jackflash]

Day 2, 23 April:

Having been awoken by my bladder at about 4 am I found Daphne in her lounge chair watching tv and worried about the strange man in the spare room. Load lightened I returned to my assigned bed and with ear plugs in manage another 2 hour of fitful sleep before getting up a bit after 6.30. More chatting and catching up, a visit to Trish across the road and then to the bakery to bid Chris farewell and I was out of Alpha by 8.30am. It was still raining lightly and they'd had 42mm overnight. I also learned that the very slippery last bit of gravel the previous afternoon had had a drenching with about 140mm in 2 hours just before I ride through. Any wonder it was "scared the life out of me" slippery.
I had planned to take the Alpha Tambo road which is 166km of what I thought was mostly gravel, so with yesterday's slide fest on mind I heard west to Jericho (53km), then south to Blackall (+120km) then south east to Tambo +100km), a total of 273km, but only 20km of gravel to deal with.
It rained lightly until about half way between Jericho and Blackall, at which point I rode it from under the cloud cover.

These monsters of the road move all sorts of cargo around outback Australia. This one, loaded with cattle at the edge of Blackall, moved of as I stopped to take the pic.........

In time to reveal this little one loaded with machinery.

Mercy fuel stop Tambo, with the tribute to road trains sitting in the park opposite my fuel stop.

2 fuel stops later at Charleville with the historic railway station undergoing a renovation. Ther next section of road to Cunnamulla was the only place I saw a highway patrol mob bible speed trap on the entire trip and he had a car pulled over giving me about 3km warning of his presence

Having fueled up in Cunnamulla, the choices were turn left and stay in Queensland or go straight on to Bourke and cross into New South Wales. I had a little over 2 hours of daylight left and 255km to cover, with a range of about that with the then current gearing and load. A scene from Blues Brothers came to mind.
I arrived in Bourke street sunset but before dark and thankfully the roadkills were few and far between. Kangaroos out that way grow taller and heavier than me.
I found a "resort" with a pub next door and the bike took a tumble while I was booking in. No harm done the bar end stuck into the grassy footpath and nothing got broken.
I settled in, cleaned up and visited the pub for a feed and a beer.
Tambo to Bourke is about 650km so 925km for the day.
As mentioned above not many revenue collectors out that way so speeds were a little above the posted 110km/h for most of the way on the open roads which made it easier to cover that distance in 10h. The distance to Brisbane where my parents last lived is similar bit I struggle to do that in 12h due to the ever present highway patrols .
925km for the day.

 

[Jackflash]

Day 3 24 April (part 1)

I slept well, not surprising after the first night. It was 9°C (about 48°F) and after packing was away by 8.30 again, this time wearing thermal underwear. We are currently experiencing overnight lows here in the tropics of 18 or 19°C and daily maximums of around 25°C. (65° to 77°F) so those cooler southern days were a little too cool for me.

The "resort"

Looking over the side fence from my unit and the neighbour had his own car wrecking yard.

The rooms themselves are very nice.

This is the land of gun barrel straight roads, from horizon....

To horizon

Cobar, short for copper bar, is a thriving mining town and I only got this pic because I turned left instead of right while looking for fuel.

 

[Jackflash]

Day 3 24 April (part 2):

About 10km out of Cobar is the Wool Track, or Cobar to Ivanhoe road, which I remembered the map showing as 222km of gravel. It turns out it's only 170 km of gravel. The first 40km is sealed, 26km of which is also gun barrel straight. Then there are 35km of challenging gravel, another 10 km of sealed almost 2 lanes wide road, with the rest being gravel of varying degrees of difficulty especially on Karoo Streets inflated for sealed roads.

It to was gun barrel straight from horizon to horizon in places. This earlier section seemed bad enough and when I reached the 10km of sealed road after it the scared-ee-cat in me let out a cheer. The pragmatist then chimed in with ""Don't count your chickens before they hatch". Sure enough, within a few minutes we were at the end of it and looking at a sign that read "Caution rough road". Then the brain chimes in "Well it can't beer any worse than....." to which the pragmatist replied "Wanna bet?"
It was worse, scary worse.
I (re)learned a few lessons:
- if the bike is wobbling all over the place on loose gravel road, don't lock up your arms, or your wrists, keep as loose a posture as possible it will find its own way out;
If the above is happening and the bike is still moving, don't put your foot down to steady it, things will only get worse;
On loose stuff keep a positive throttle at all times, especially with tyres inflated fairly hard, positive throttle keeps the front on top, negative throttle makes it cut into the loose stuff like a knife and everything gets wobbly again.

By the time I reached Belarbon Station I needed a break. My concentration levels had been so high that I had a tension ache between my shoulder blades and in my lower neck. 10 minutes, a home baked cookie bikkie (cookie) and a big drink of water and I was on my way again, in a far moor positive mood and better able top cope with the bike on gravel.

 

[Jackflash]

Day 3 24 April (Part 3)

At Ivanhoe I refuelled and headed over to the pub for a nerve calming beer and to book a room for the following night. I was a little surprised to find there was one still available.

To get to Hay from Ivanhoe you must cross the Hay Plain, over 200km of very flat countryside with very few trees

You will see cattle and sheep, and also emus (pronounced eem you, singular, eem youz plural). This looks like a dad with 4 adolescent chicks.

These little melons, about the size of a softball, grow wild it there and are native to the area. I've been told by a mate who studied horticulture that they are called bitter melons.

So I cut one in half cut a piece out of it and licked it, it was bitter so I chewed it, then spat it out. I don't have a taste equivalent but it tasted nothing like the honeydew melon that the flesh reminded me of.

Three rain suit I'd worn on day one and part of day 2 was now flapping in the breeze. I'd secured it around my swag, but it was still free enough to be swinging along behind me.
Having secured out and taken ther pic I checked the oil again, it had been on ther upper level at Ivanhoe as with each previous stop. Now the sight glass was empty. I dug out the spare oil, typed it up, about 250ml or so, and rolled the bike of the centre stand. It had been leaning away from the sight glass. Another check showed oil to the top of the sight glass now.
10km or so down the road I checked it again, still high, and picked up the pace again.
Arriving in Hay I checked maid in my phoned for directions to the motor inn we were booked into, then overshot it by 600 metres. I checked again and managed to pull up out the front. Rob who'd organised the trip came out and directed me in.
There were a grand total of 4 attendees including me.

A mixed bag of bikes in attendance.
WeWedge a couple of beers each, woke Chris who'd ridden an iron butt ride over night to get there, tidied up, and headed up the street to a pub with meals for tea.
It was an early night because the plan was to attend the Anzac Day dawn service the following morning


Total of just over 600km for the day.

 

[Jackflash]

Day 4, 25 April:

For those of you who aren't Australian, Anzac Day is a national day of commemoration in Australia that eclipses Remembrance Day. It pays respect to all who fought in the Australian military forces since WW1. The British and French planned an attack that was to take The Ottoman Empire, allied to Germany, out of the war. On the 25th of April 1915 at about 4.15am, a combined force of Australian and New Zealand soldiers (Australian and New Zealand Army Corps) landed at Gallipoli on what is modern day Turkey. They landed at the wrong cove and the Naval bombardment stopped before they could get ashore. It was a massacre, no real gains were made against the Turks in the next 8 months and, in a well planned evacuation on 15 December, they managed to get out without the Turks noticing until after they'd left. It was a resounding defeat for the Anzac and other allied forces, but became the major memorial here in Australia.
The usual routine on ANZAC day is to attend the dawn service, and we attended the Hay dawn service at 6am. It was a bit fresh at 6°C so I made sure to have my thermals, a t shirt, a long sleeved t shirt and the long sleeved shirt I'd brought along to wear to the dawn service.
After the service we decided to have breakfast at one of the 2 roadhouses that supply fuel and food to the many travelers and truck drivers who pass their way.
On arriving in Hay I'd checked the oil and it was low again. I'd topped it up, but now I was concerned that I'd flogged the engine out and it was going to chew oil all the way home. While the other 3 chatted and faffed about I quickly packed, headed back to the roadhouses and searched for a suitable oil. I've found Caltex products in the past that suit wet clutch bike engines, but all are now "apparently" friction mortified. I then visited the Shell roadhouse next door and eventually found a suitable product. In the mean time, having posted about my oil woes on the bikeme forum, one of the members stated that my problem was most likely related to the noticeably cooler weather out that way as he'd seen the same engines in DR650s use oil because the air cooled engine combined with the oil cooler meant that the piston could get cold oil from the cooler stopping it from heating while the barrel heated up due to the internal combustion process. I replied to the effect "so when I return to the tropics, it will stop using oil?" His reply was a fairly solid "yes That's my educated guess". This bloke has a DR650 he's owned since new and the only unmodified part is the engine, USD RMZ forks, similar rear shock and frame mod to fit etc.
Oil packed I made my way back through Hay, having to bypass through side streets as the main street was now closed in preparation for the march past to the main morning service.
About 40km out of Hay I stopped to check the oil having kept my speed down to 105km/h in the 110km/h zone. It was still slightly overfull from my last top up so I picked up the pace to 110. At Booligal as is the custom from previous Ivanhoe trips, the other 3 were stopped outside the pub (closed for Anzac day until lunch time). Our plan was to attend the morning service at Ivanhoe and the only way I could make that deadline was to keep going at the speed limit so I pushed on.
As expected I was buzzed by 3 road bikes at full noise and left in their wake. Ron, on the VFR, pulled over and let me past, and shadowed me the rest of the way. Rob, on the ZX9 stopped to film us on our way, then almost blew me into the weeds as he zoomed past again. I didn't see Chris on his Rocket 3 until Ivanhoe.
Ron and I arrived with minutes to spare, but Ron was on a deadline and made his apologies.
Ron, Chris and I attended the main service. For a town of 330, it had a good turn out and Rob estimated 120 in attendance.

The school had a big part to play with students reading prayers, a commemoration address and a rousing rendition of a song called Anzac Spirit. As the servicer ended we saw Ron riding out off town having refuelled and eaten.
Following the service an older local thanked us for our attendance. We stood out in our bike gear and it was nice to be picked out for thanks rather than a ear baking about the dangers of murder-cycles.
All present had been invited to the RSL club (Returned and Services League) for a smorgasbord lunch and we decided to join in. With the local constable having watched us enter and our bikes on the street outside, we opted for soft drinks with lunch. We chatted with some locals in the club then, for a $10 donation to charity we enjoyed a lunch of corned beef with all the trimmings including white onion sauce and/or spaghetti Bolognese. This was followed by dessert of Apple Danish and mixed berry cheese cake slice.
With full bellies we rode the half km or so to the pub, booked in, changed out of bike gear and played pool (8 ball), drank beer and bench raced.
Mid afternoon we adjourned to our rooms, for nanna naps and quiet time.

My room.
At 6 that evening we meet in the dining room of the pub for tea. It was a good feed and another drink or 2 then another early night. Rob was planning a 6am departure. I thought I'd set an alarm for 7am just I case. You know what "thought" thought......
210km for the day.
I had refuelled on the way back to the pub and I'd topped up the oil again. Only about 300ml left out of that first litre of oil.

 

[Jackflash]

Day 5, 26 April (part 1):

Expecting to hear 2 loud road bikes depart and then a 7am alarm I finally checked the time.. .... only to find it was after 8. Both Rob and Chris were long gone. I quickly went through my morning routine of shave pack, a bite to eat, load bike, get on road. It was just before 9 as I rode out of Ivanhoe.
The previous afternoon I had topped the oil up to the high mark, having ensured that the bike was level this time.
About 40 km north of Ivanhoe I stopped and checked the oil. It was now overfull to the point that it was above the top of the sight glass........ hmmmm it had recovered some of the missing oil..... or it was "making oil" fuel blowing past the piston during combustion. Home was over 1600km (1000mi) away and I was going to ride it so I pushed on. Turns out it was getting better fuel mileage than on the way south and had stopped using oil.
I made a few stops attempting to get pics of mobs of kangaroos and families of wild goats, but unlike the emus, they don't stop to have their portrait taken.

With the previous crossing of the Wool Track in mind I stopped in front of Belarbon station for a break and a photo opportunity.

While I was stopped a pretty young 20 something year old woman drove up and asked me if everything was ok, nothing broken. No, all good, just having a break. I replied. She'd heard the bike and come out check if someone was poaching goats.

This is a sheep shearing shed so I'd wrongly guessed that Belarbon was a sheep station because in the 19th and most of the 20th century Australia "rode on the sheep's back". The biggest export money earner was wool and in 1953 quality Australian wool commanded "A pound, a pound" when working class Australians were earning maybe £10 to £30 a week. The currency was pounds shillings and pence, based on the old UK pound sterling, and one Australian pound became 2 Australian dollars in 1966. I've since been told that these properties raise certified organic goats for the may to be consumed in expensive restaurants, mostly in Melbourne, the state capital of Victoria and the second largest city in Australia.

Timing is everything and while I was stopped this motorized dust storm, a stock truck, came past from the direction I was heading.

from my SM-G950F using Tapatalk

Which gave me time to notice these pretty little wild flowers.

And a flock of galahs, pink and grey native birds (oops, cockatoos, white native birds also) related to parrots, dropped in for a feed.

Within minutes of leaving my rest stop I over shot this turn, so I stopped for another photo opp.

That's the road leading away from the T junction I overshot and the start of the bad section of gravel from 2 days previously. This time I rode it like a pro, or at least better than the ride down.

I reached the Cobar end and took more pics

The bike had never been challenged, though I had, and I'd had to keep chanting those lessons learned on the previous crossing to avoid messing it up. The suspension is well set up and it was only on corrugated sections at the wrong speed that the forks began to stutter and struggle. The rear never tried to compress my spine on sharp bumps either.

 

[Jackflash]

Day 5 April 26 (part 2):

It was also very dusty and I'm still working at getting the last of that red dust off.

Somebody was even more displeased with this road than me. Don't zoom in if coarse language offends.

Getting from Ivanhoe to Cobar was only 20 minutes or so quicker than the outward journey, but it was more enjoyable and involved more planned photo stops.

As I took the pic of the Cobar sign the B double overtook the parked up B triple. 3 trailer road trains aren't permitted on many roads in this area of New South Wales so 2 trailer road trains and these 2 and 3 trailer combinations are more common.
The B doubles ply all of the transport routes of Australia and are a common sight in most towns and cities including Mackay. B triples and road trains (A trailers with dolly bogies under the front of the second and third trailers) are restricted to more remote areas with very few exemptions.

While refueling I noticed this. The damage from crossing the Wool Track could have been far worse...

I cut up an empty plastic water bottle and used a strip of plastic and electrical tape to do a bodgy repair.

Between Cobar and Bourke there were emus galore and I got this lot feeding in a paddock.

I saw this fluffy white stuff along the side of the road and thought a sheep had been skittled by a road train. Then I realised that the crop I didn't recognise as I'd passed the last few properties was cotton.

 

[Jackflash]

Day 5, 26 April (part 3):

Prior to rail and road transport, the Murray Darling River system was a major transport route through Queensland, New South Wales and Victoria, when it was flowing. The Darling River is currently running "A banker" (bank to bank) after 5 years or so of drought and being empty.

This is the new bridge outside Bourke.

And this is the old, now blocked off even to pedestrian traffic. You'll notice the raising section that allowed slightly larger craft to pass under it when the river was up.
The Murray Darling system was plied by Mississippi style paddle steamers and one or two still carry tourists on the Murray River down on the New South Wales Victoria border.

Back into my home state of Queensland and these leviathans became a popular sight again. This empty cattle carrier was outside Cunnamulla as I stopped to use the road side conveniences after a more than 2h ride.
I chose to ride north to Wyandra, another hour up the road because I had about an hour of daylight left.

10 or 15 minutes short of Wyandra I stopped to get this pic of the moon rise

Being on seemingly firm ground I got off the bike

And took this pic of the sun setting, only to discover...

That Suzi was tired and needed a little lie down. One thing I'll say for Suzi, she's noticeably lighter than my 650 Transalp. I didn't have to unload her to lift her off the ground, though the side stand stuck partly in the ground did resist me a bit
Wyandra is a small dot on the map that was once a rail siding for loading wool and sheep. Now it's a pub, a post office/ General store, school and perhaps 50 houses. I'd called the pub and booked a room, no competition here today, I'd be the only overnight guest.
On entering, a jovial chap, who turned out to be a head shearer asked me if I was the gun (fast) shearer from Wyandra. "No mate I'm flat out shearing my own head". "We'll give you a go if you're keen we're short of men". "You could end up with a few headless sheep if you set me loose with a set of shears" I reply.
I was shown to my room, moved my gear in, showered and returned to the bar where the head shearer and his 2 mates, one in his 60s, about 170cm and slim the other in his 20s about 182cm and going to fat were preparing to leave. The head man informed me that the older bloke drank 21 cans of beer a night (every night). The young bloke seemed determined to match and beat that and grabbed a 30 can box of the beer they'd been drinking to take back to the property they were working the next day.
I drank a few beers, ate a very tasty steak sandwich and chips, followed by a sticky date pudding dessert with ice cream, very nice. A couple traveling around towing a caravan dropped in for a meal and a drink before the shearers left and we all chatted. The wife ordered the steak sandwich, the husband ordered the mixed grill. This is usually a large meal, and this one was larger than most. 2 sausages, 2 eggs, a steak, 2 lamb chops, bacon, fried tomato and chips. There may have been a garden salad hiding in there somewhere. On sighting it I said that was the kind of meal that when my wife orders one I wait to see what arrives before I order. It would have easily fed 2 grown adults.
The publican's dog ate very well that night and the next day because old mate got about half way through and gave up, full as a state school hat rack. He complemented the quality of the meal, he just could not fit any more in. After a long day and with another coming I called it a night early.
All up my meal, beers and accommodation cost $79, the previous night in Ivanhoe, the room cost $125, but then out had its own bathroom and coffee/tea making fax glories and a microwave oven.

The accomodation was typical Aussie country pub, a room with a bed, facilities down the hall, or in this case, across the tiny court yard, but that's the way I prefer it when traveling by bike

Distance traveled for the day about 760km

 

[Jackflash]

Day 6, 27 April:

With an early start I was packed, pics in front of the pub were taken and freeway to leave.

I was on my way by 7.45. A few minutes up the road and thinking of getting pics of something I'd noted on the way south, I realized my phone was still where I'd put it to charge the night before. Turn around, go back, find a back way into the pub because the door I went out through is now bolted from the inside, find the publican, into the room, there it is, and off we go again. Now it's an 8am departure.

The something I'd noted was the explosion memorial asset Angellalla Creek.

The largest transport explosion in Australian history it not only destroyed the road bridge, but also the rail bridge beside it. The road bridge was replaced, but trains will never run on that line again as the road trains have made them uneconomic to run.

Wyandra, like many communities out this way draw their water from the Great Artesian Basin, and the water there comes out of the tap/faucet warm, very hard, and smelling of having spent centuries underground. I could wash in it but I wasn't filling my hydration pack bladder with it. My next stop was Charleville and the local super market where, for the only time on this trip I bought bottled water. Every other place I overnighted at had water that I could drink straight from the tap, but not Wyandra, that was the only part of it I didn't like.
After refuelling in Charleville i headed on my way north and east

I rode straight through Augathella towards Tambo and got this pic. Lake Eyre is in South Australia and all of the water ways out here run into it thousands of kilometres away.

 

[Jackflash]

Day 6, April 27 (part 2):

I stopped in Tambo where I ate lunch in a nice little cottage cafe on the main street, not that there is much of Tambo off the main street. They served a very nice chicken BLT on Turkish bread and the coffee was great.
After refueling I headed out on the Tambo to Alpha road, the one I'd avoided after it rained that first night in Alpha. What I thought was still 166km of gravel as it was in 1982, the last timer I'd actually driven out along it from Alpha, was 43km of good, mostly single lane sealed road, then 10 km of rough gravel, then 22km of sealed road then mostly gravel with short sections of sealed here and there. The last 25km or so at the Alpha end is also sealed, but the water beside the road on the last 50km of gravel convinced me that my decision to go the long way through Jericho and Blackall to Tambo had been the right one. It would have been another slip and slide fest and probably 2 hours or more to cover those 50km.

More gun barrel straight roads from horizon to horizon

And this darker red coloured gravel was loose and had me on . 0my game again.

It seemed like no time at all and I was at the Alpha end of the road. Less than 2 hours for 166km I thought was a good effort.
I headed into Alpha and dropped into see Peter in his newsagency/ General hardware store. In a town that has such a small population you set up to meet the demands. Peter has newspapers and magazines on shelves in the middle of his store, with irrigation and water supply fittings for cattle troughs etc nearby, cleaning and painting chemicals and the like along the far wall and assorted hand tools on rotary display racks towards the back of the store. He also had a tv and a fridge and an assortment of other gear. While we're chatting a property owner phones in and asks him to send some printer ink cartridges out with the mail contractor the following morning. I duck into his back office and get out of my thermals which are now too warm for a central Queensland "autumn" afternoon in a shop rather than riding a bike.

I next go up the street a few hundred metres to Snows Bakery (named after the owners late father, Daphne's husband and close friend to my father, and who'd been the town baker in the 70s and 80s before that one burned down) and catch up again with Chris, Peter's eldest brother.
I then head around and refuel, back to the old family house for a shower and tidy up, across to Trish and John's place where I'm told tea will be ready soon, then walk over to the bakery to give Chris a hand. He's baking meat pies for the next day. Meat pies are to Australia something like hamburgers and hotdogs are to America, they have been the popular quick meal in towns and cities since the 1800s.

I gave a hand, mostly as dish pig, but also with picking the excess pastry out of the trays as it is rolled on straight off a rolling pin type device as a sheet, then pressed together to leave pies in "dishes". You'll notice the round beef pies filled and topped on the left. The rectangular ones on the right are waiting to be filled with chicken, asparagus and garlic aioli then covered.
I left Chris after an hour or so, most of the washing up done, and headed back to the family house while Chris got those pies baked. Dinner was waiting to be nuked in the microwave, so I ate and spent time chatting with Peter and Trish. Chris turned up with a fresh loaf of iced fruit bun, ate his tea and we shared the bun loaf. I had been invited to sleep in a spare room at Chris's so their mum wouldn'tget upset again. Trish offered me their spare room as Chris's spare room was a flat (apartment) that hadn't been used for months and would probably be very dusty. I took up her offer and after more chat with Chris headed over to Trish and John's place for a good night's sleep. The next morning Peter assured me that both he and his mum had a good night's sleep. I wasn't surprised as I've seen what happens when people with dementia and similar issues have their routine changed in any way.

Peter and Chris

Rebecca looking over her Mum Trish's shoulder.

Total distance for the day 480km

 

[Jackflash]

Day 7, 28 April (part 1):

I slept well and got up about 7. I didn't have much to pack because Alpha has almost no crime and the bike had remained packed. After a quick breakfast, I stowed my shave kit etc and said my farewells to Trish and Rebecca, then Daphne. I then headed around to Peter's shop to say "see ya" to him. From there it was down the street to Chris's bakery and said goodbye to him.

Last night's pies in the warmer oven waiting for customers.
Sweet treats: cakes, cream buns, and fruit buns in the display case.
Bread fresh from the oven on cooling racks and Chris removing more from the oven at the back. The mail contractor would arrive shortly to pick up bread for properties on her mail run up the Clermont road.

The Alpha to Clermont road, many thousands of square kilometres of cattle grazing land, at about 1 cow per square km
A few minutes later in those hills ahead in the last pic, I'd come into a corner and see a prime mover at the head of a 3 trailer dust storm and no more than 20 seconds away. I bravely rode on.... into the table drain where I stopped and put my arms over my helmet in case it was throwing more than dust.
The dust cleared and I got going again

The last 30km or so into Clermont is sealed and in fairly good shape. It also runs through a range of hills with plenty of high speed sweepers to make it more fun. I also had to get back into the mind set of corners at speed.

The back tyre at my fuel stop in Clermont. The edges of the tyre hadn't felt road for about 3000km.
From Clermont to the Moranbah turn off there are numerous road works, not surprising in black soil country that grows grain by the train load.

This was an early one and that rust colour beside the road is milo sorghum ripening. It grows in broad acre paddocks for kilometres along both sides of that section of the Peak Downs Hwy.

This monster had me pulling off the road to avoid losing my head. It looked like the body of a 300t plus carrying capacity type of mine dump truck.

 

[Jackflash]

Day 7, 28 April (part 2):

My wardrobe malfunction. The zip let go in the last 3 days and by the time I got to Alpha the previous day it wouldn't stay closed.

It was time for the bike to have a bath and I believe that the tappet access covers need new gaskets.

She was also overdue for an oil change by about 1500km but had traveled 3834 (according to the odo which deduct about 2%) in the last 7 days so I wasn't concerned that it might have been an issue. It was also still overfull to the point that it was above the sight glass, as it had been since the first stop out of Ivanhoe.
After washing it I found that it wouldn't turn on at all. WOW! I'm glad I made it home before that one happened.

That plug fits between the main fuse and the ignition switch. I'd seen this kind of retracted and burnt pin in a plug connection once before on a Suzuki GSX750F in the headlight circuit and had done a similar mod to fix it.

Total distance for the day was 467km as I had taken the road through Sarina after encountering a line of traffic doing 60km/h about 15km west of Nebo. Nebo was the next place that the wide load could get off the road to let us overtake so I opted towards Sarina and ride down Sarina Range and enjoy some extra and tighter corners. It was a blast, and the whole trip was great.

 

[Jackflash]

Day 8 to 12, the tidy up:

Post trip blues? The Suzi needed chain and sprockets by the time we got home. I decided to buy 2 front sprockets, a 15t for commuting to and from work and a 13t for those occasions that I want to ride gravel roads, plus a 41t rear because it isn't possible yup buy a 16t front for it. The set on it were 15t front and 44t rear. 15 to 41 is almost the same as 16 to 44.

Chain didn't like being pressure cleaned any more than the rest of the bike. But then it was already stiff and sore.

Keep plate type like my Transalp.

One pin dry, next pin still had a little lube, that'll be why it's noticeably smoother now.

The chain was riding up on every 3rd tooth with the 13 tooth front. It took 3 goes to realise the keep plate was in the way. It has been suitable modified. I also noted that the counter shaft teeth have been eroded. That's common on Transalps and similar Hondas when not given enough chain slack. Not serious yet but I'll keep an eye on that.

All fitted. Suzuki says 0.8 to 1.2" of slack and after the Transalp I thought "That's nowhere near enough", but these have a very different swing arm geometry so maybe that's enough. I'll give it a bit more and get a feel for it. The KLR650 I bought in '98 and the Transalp have both been subjected to over tight chains after tyres or warranty services. I noticed something felt wrong on the next work commute with those and loosened them before damage was done.

The air filter got changed and I noticed a puddle in the bottom of the air box. I traced the drain hose, removed the plug and at first out came muck that looked very old and a mix of oil and water, then came the red filter oil I use....... lots of it for two services, or was that one? I think this is the second service I've done since buying it.
The puddle didn't get smaller so I checked again and realised I was draining the carby side of the screens inside the box. There is a second drain that just has a cap, no hose. I removed that and out went the oil from the dirty side of the air box. More lessons learnt.
Hail motorcycles! How boring would life be without them?
Get out and ride people, it's good for the soul.