ZX7R Tim Walker (leader) YZF1000 Enzo Cunico

ZX900 Wayne Grant TLR1000 Peter Doak

ZRX1100 John Murphy GSXR750 Ray Walker

ZX9 Mick Bosworth CBR900R Ian Payne

ZX10 Darren Millett (1^st ride) T595 Darryl Hedt (3^rd ride)

ZX7R Rhys Williams Sprint Geoff Hansford & Rachael McKee (1^st)

ZZR600 Geoff Jones (rear) VFR750 Danny Vits & Ed.

K1100RT John Curry (1^st ride) VTR1000 Jeff (the red one)

Babies were spontaneously bursting into tears and toddlers jumping into their safe mothers’ arms as I rode by, the sound of the ZXR brakes rattling a fearsome noise. Something had to give.

So I booked the brakes into my mate Davo’s to get new carriers built. The original disks, warped and machined and warped again, were given up as a joke at 50,000 km. The replacement full floating items from Italian firm Braking, as advertised in Australian Motorcycle News, did the job for another 75,000 km. Now the aluminium carriers have worn sufficiently allowing the disks to eat into the calliper. Not optimum, as Rhys would say. The actual disks themselves are quite serviceable, belying their age, and hence I was reluctant to replace them. Not happy with warping standard disks, I looked elsewhere. Brembos, at $768 each! would have doubled the value of the bike. Braking had left over odd disks which would have fitted, but looked out of place, seeming to no longer support such old model bikes. Davo, machinist extraordinaire, to the rescue.

A call to Davo Saturday afternoon confirmed my worst fears – the carriers weren’t done, and they probably should be anodised anyway to improve weather resistance and provide a marginal strength gain. What colour? Bright blue I suggested. The disks could then prove good conversation starters. Of course, the real reason for the delay was that Dave was off to Colonial Stadium on a Gold Pass (free ticket and footy record, under stadium parking, corporate box, nubile nymphs serving lashings of food, your glass never empty) to see, as it turned out, the first very exciting draw of the AFL season. So I couldn’t begrudge him that set of visual and sensual opportunities.

Given it was Tim leading, and his penchant for corners, corners and more corners, of a tighter nature more than the sweeping variety, the Dominator didn’t seem such a bad option. Under powered for highway work, but plenty of clearance and good brakes making it ideal for the tight stuff. The original 1997 knobby pattern front tyre could be a concern…..

An extra hours sleep at the end of Daylight Savings gave me plenty of time to get to Yarra Glen for fuel, passing a few bikes along the Christmas Hills Road, who turned out to be the KBCP city group including a few strange bikes. Peter Doak, on his new Suzuki TL1000R, had enticed a few of his friends from the aus.motorcycles web news group out for a ride with us, as they had no formal ride that day. (Good work Peter; they seemed to enjoy themselves, as per the newsgroup feedback, despite a certain painful incident, soon to be described.) After introductions and collection of tax file number real names, as distinct from web coined pseudonyms, I found myself explaining the corner marking system to the visitors, which then turned into the pre-ride spiel for the group. Enzo picked up the rear riding duties, the rigours of shift work and limited sleep dictating a nominal low stress day. Tim the ever unassuming, quiet achiever, outlined the route, and we were away.

The numbers on the ride fluctuated, and although there are only 18 bikes and 20 people listed, and I don’t think I have left out any members, I counted up to 22 bikes at one stage, while corner marking and watching the bikes go by. A couple riding a FZR1000 and GPX250 followed us from Yarra Glen to at least Warburton. John Clowes and Eric Makin were spotted somewhere and we ran into Troy and Warren(?) at Marysville. It was that sort of day, bikes everywhere.

Tim lead us from Yarra Glen across to Healesville via the back way, then along the Packenham Road to Launching Place, along which we were flashed repeatedly. I worked my way to the front, to find Tim and the next two bikes being tailed by Mr Plod in a marked car, which subsequently pulled into a side road and waited for the troops to file past. All survived.

We worked our way towards Wesburn via Tom’s oft used detour running parallel to the highway, bypassing Yarra Junction, returning to the Highway at the corner where I was last cleaned up on the ZXR by a car turning right on top of me. In Warburton proper we picked up Riverside Drive. The road narrowed right down as it wended its way along the river, very scenic at 60 km/h, complete with speed humps. (Rhys referred to it as "The Goat Track.") The route was more peaceful than taking the main drag through the various shopping centres and having to negotiate the odd traffic light. Soon enough we rejoined the Highway on the outskirts of Warburton, the pace quickening in anticipation.

I noted the usual conflagration at the bottom of the Spur, but with no sign of leader Tim, continued on. The Reefton Spur was in sensational condition: no leaf litter, dry and fast. The Dominator was in its element and I was hooting. No bikes, no cars. I had a sensational run. We regrouped at the top as per usual, before proceeding over the recently surfaced dirt section. Yes, they have finally completed the last 4.8 km of dirt. Our man, Danny Kosinski, was the first one across it, on Thursday 2^nd March, the same night as the General Meeting. He was waiting for the council workers to let him through, chaffing at the bit, one might say. He asked if he was the first across, and they said, "Yes". What else would you do late afternoon on a Thursday other than The Reefton?

Marysville Bakery for lunch with its 15 minute delay in the queue, despite six people serving. Someone needs to do a time and motion study on that place – they all seem to be as busy as bees – yet the output is abysmal by city standards. At least standing in the queue allowed time to socialise, talk the talk, retell old stories, expand on Club folklore, before moving outside to the grass for more of the same.

A pleasant hour was spent whiling away the time before I rounded up the visitors and we were soon on the road again heading for Buxton, Taggerty, Thornton, and the Torbreck River Road which eventually finds its way to Jamieson.

I had ridden the road a few weeks ago with Lyn and Eddy and not so long ago with the Club. I knew the surface was in excellent condition, and which corners to look out for – tightening radius ones. All of that knowledge came to nought as I came crashing to earth, the front tyre crying enough, washing away under power. I think it is the first time on a Club Ride that I have lost a front tyre under power. Mind you, it was spirally, down hill, off camber and slightly bumpy. Throw in old fork oil, a worn old knobby tyre, plenty of speed, the big testosterone-driven overtaking manoeuvre, the foot peg grinding away merrily, the fun of the chase, and you have a recipe for the obvious low side crash.

Peter Doak had a birds eye view as I "accelerated" away from the bike, sliding down the road, face first, taking out a 4x2 wooden white post with my legs ( snapping it off) and smacking into a tree with my neck/shoulder. The bike then caught up and slammed me back into the tree again for good measure, coming to rest on top of me, knocking the wind out of me. The bull ants took a distinct dislike to their house invasion and immediately began attacking all and sundry. On Monday Peter sent me this email, giving his version of what happened:

Enough of the dramatic visuals. I walked away, that is, I could stand up.

The bike, care of the Bark Busters, suffered repairable damage, all levers intact. The tank, hmm – holds fuel, its only saleable point. A team of people set about straightening the gear change lever, resiting the handle bars and removing the Bark Busters. You know who you are. Thank you. John Murphy conducted the basic first aid tests – move toes, fingers, noisy gurgles, that sort of yukky stuff. Thanks John. Rachael supplied a couple of Panadeine and after 20 minutes or so I wasn’t feeling too bad. (My breathing was shallow. Rachael noticed I was having trouble speaking I was in that much pain. Still, I felt a lot better than I had.)

With difficulty, I rode the 35 or so km back to Eildon, en-route remembering Lyn and Eddie lived close by, and headed for their house. Luckily they were home, and with Tim and Lyn’s help off the bike, soon enough I was an outpatient in Alexandra Private Hospital. A car seat is a wonderful thing. A check up and precautionary x-rays revealed no bone damage, other than pre-existing compressed vertebra! Ho-hum.

Julie abandoned her kids to her mother and drove up to collected me, staying over night with Lyn and Eddie, their generosity much appreciated. The body is pretty battered and bruised, with more things hurting as the days progress and the bruises come out. Sleeping is a nightmare, back pain making it impossible to roll over. Think what it would be like without modern chemistry.

Ancillaries such as bike jacket, helmet, gloves, boots and back protector did their jobs. The coat had shoulder and elbow armour, and a back protector built in, though the left sleeve is fairly shredded. In addition, the Dainese hard shell full armour probably saved a more serious injury and comes highly recommended.

This was not an accident. This was my own silly fault. I was having great fun and rode beyond the design parameters of the tyre, and probably the bike. Enough said.

The ride continued on to Eildon, albeit, somewhat subdued, no-one game to pass me (other than Tim), for a regroup and refreshments. I believe it then continued over Fraser National Park back to Alexandra and down the Highway over the Black Spur to finish at Healesville. Somewhere in the vicinity of 350 km for the day from Yarra Glen to Healesville and probably around 420 km home to home for most people. Thanks Tim. Thanks everyone. I will try and improve.

Ben Warden (Honda NX650)

p.s. thanks to everyone who emailed me throughout the week, or called on the mobile. The phone rang hot for a couple of days.