Club Xmas Camp 2002 Highlights

Thu 26^th December 2002 to Wednesday 1^st January 2003

Seen over the week:

Ron and Julie Johnston Suzuki GSF1200, car, trailer, powered camp site

Clifford and Barbara Peters Kawasaki ZX12R, car, trailer, powered camp site

and Carol, Phillipa, Danny Kawasaki ZX9R, car

Pete Weyermayr Honda CBR929, car, unpowered camp site

Liz Oliver Honda CBR919, unpowered camp site

Ben, Julie and Fiona Warden Honda CBR929, car, trailer, powered camp site

Rob Langer BMWR1150 GS, cabin

Ian Payne Honda CBR929, unpowered camp site

Derek Atkinson Yamaha FZR1000, unpowered camp site

Jon Riddett car, unpowered camp site

Bruce Saville Honda VFR800, Star Hotel, Bright

Ray Walker Suzuki GSXR1000, Star Hotel, Bright

Mick Honda CBR1000, Star Hotel, Bright

Martin Hastie & Carmen de Bono Honda CBR1100XX, car, trailer, Budget Hotel Porepunkah

Peter Philferan Yamaha Majesty 250, Budget Hotel Porepunkah

Renzo Cunico Yamaha R1, sister’s home, Myrtleford

Pete Pondeljak & Kate Stewart 4WD, unpowered camp site

25 people, 15 bikes

A week of many highlights, a few captured below. But first, who’s who. At the top of the above list, Ron, Julie, Clifford, Barbara, Danny, Carol and Phillipa – collectively referred to as the Johnston clan, but more accurately the Julie Johnston clan. Julie, Clifford and Carol are siblings, Danny the son of another sister living in Queensland – a real family get together. This clan were camped opposite the ablution block and became a focus for passers by for a friendly chat, or in the wetter moments, somewhere to seek refuge when tooing and froing.

Danny, a shearer by trade, from Portland, had travelled extensively in the week before reaching our Club Camp – visiting Mum in Brisbane (2200 km), 2,000 km riding around Brisbane, then the 2200 km back to Portland before 700 km to Porepunkah. He came on a couple of rides including the drought breaking Omeo ride.

Kate Stewart arrived with Pete in his 4WD a day or two before New Year’s Eve. Kate had been SMSing me wanting to know if it was worth coming up and if there were dirt any riders there. (Pete is a mud grub.) Now, minus her blue CBR250 after selling it sight unseen to a chap in Adelaide, she is hanging out until she is legally able to ride a larger capacity bike, late in February. But she is missing the Club rides, the people and all the action. She is spending her time profitably looking for a new 600 cc bike, preferably blue, probably a Honda. She reckons she’ll be rear rider for the first three months, but somehow I don’t think so. Pete and Kate did some four wheel driving including the lookout at the top of Tawonga Gap.

Mick, a long time friend of Bruce’s (18 years) spent 4 or 5 days in the Star Hotel with Ray and Bruce, joining us on a couple longer day rides and the nightly blast up Mt Buffalo. A good rider limited by his now aging bike, a Honda CBR1000F. Ten years is a long time in bike years in terms of handling, weight and power improvements. It was only when riding with the Club riders that the limits of the bike were exposed – he had a couple of “moments”, saved by his obvious dirt bike riding skills.

As evidenced in the list, there is a wide accommodation choice available, and partaken of, by our members and friends. These included tent sites - powered and unpowered - cabins, pub rooms, motel rooms and relative’s homes if you were lucky enough. By word of mouth or mobile phone, daily ride meeting times were agreed, usually at the Johnston or Warden tent sites, or at the Porepunkah service station. Below follows a list of riding activities I was involved in for the week.

Thurday 26^th, Melbourne to Porepunkah.

Pete Weyermayr had been off work for a few days with extreme back pain and was still in the throes of recovery. He thought it better not to ride, so drove. Figuring he would hate to be without his bike, Julie and Fiona towed the trailer with Pete’s bike up the Hume Highway while Ben and Liz rode the scenic route via Mansfield and Whitfield. Pete lunched with Ben and Liz at Mansfield where we also saw Ron and Julie making the trek. The weather was fine and warm – and getting warmer.

We all arrived mid afternoon with plenty of time to set up camp. Les Leahy was already there, I suspect having travelled over the top via Dargo, camping in the bush. Thanks to Pete, Liz and Les who helped us set up the Taj on a different site this year, down towards the river. We were too late booking last year and our regular spot opposite the work shed was taken. The new site was good, but a little less shade than our usual one.

That evening we skooted up Mt Buffalo and refamiliarised ourselves with the fantastic 26 km to the Chalet.

Friday 27^th, Dartmouth Dam

Pete, Liz, Ron, Cliff, Renzo, Mick, Ray and Bruce (apologies if I have left anyone out) joined me on a ride to Dartmouth Dam and Mitta Mitta. We headed through Bright and across the fabulous Tawonga Gap to Mt Beauty, then up the Kiewa Valley Highway for 30 km before turning off and running parallel to it for another 30 km of fast and relatively safe, straight road. It was a double demerit points weekend, which when combined with the reduced speed threshold points, made fast highway work a risky proposition. It was a pleasure to get off anything resembling a major road.

Following the Lockhart Creek and crossing the Lockhart Gap, the road from Tamgambalanga to Eskdale is excellent. Similarly down to Mitta Mitta the road follows the Mitta Mitta river flood plain, never straight, but visibility is excellent, the road sometimes tight and twisty, at other times fast and flowing, the surface always sandpaper-like smooth. A sensational road. The pace was fairly brisk, Renzo only knowing two speeds: fast and faster. He has come a long way since his RF900 days. Ray was pretty chuffed, noting that he was pulling faster corner speeds – on a regular basis – than on any race track, and that was fun, with a capital F.

We lunched at Mitta Mitta and then Ray and Renzo and I headed south towards Omeo to see how far the bitumen would last – 12 km of slow to medium speed twisties – before returning to pick up the group. The plan was to ride to Dartmouth and out to the 8 km of tight twisties to the boat ramp, then refuel at Eskdale, some 40 km in total away. I arrived at Eskdale but no-one else did. It was 32 degrees according to the thermometer on the wall, and seeming much cooler than where we had come from. Eventually I got word that Clifford had staked his rear tyre, that Renzo had headed back to help and then for fuel, and possibly Ben or Renzo had crashed! Nothing like a couple of helmeted MSTCVers trying to communicate in a hurry with ear plugs in. Ron’s Recovery Service was once again called upon. Ron dinked Clifford for the remaining 137 km of the ride back to camp, returning back to collect the bike with a car and trailer, arriving home later that evening. In the interim Cliff was about to enjoy (endure) some side stand, centre stand, foot-peg grinding, gob smacking fun.

We headed back much the same way, this time picking up the Happy Valley road across to Ovens. A round trip of about 400 km. Ron and Cliff managed about 700 km for the day including acquiring a new 190 (rather than 200) profile rear tyre in Myrtleford, fitted later that night at camp with the help of large hammer, a piece of cardboard, a steel rod, and tyre irons, with a minimum of fuss. Next day Cliff was chuffed with the marked improvement in handling of his bike, his confidence and consequently speed rising rapidly over the next few days. The latest Motorcycle News gives the big ZX-12R a pretty good wrap when compared to the Hayabusa, Blackbird, and the ZZR1200 where the ZX clocked the fastest lap time at the Island of 1:48:52 and equal fastest time for 20-180 km/h with the Busa at 6.04 seconds. It was also the lightest of the four bikes.

A brisk trip up Mt Buffalo and a short walk around to one of the lookouts on the “other side” completed another great day.

Saturday 28^th, Falls Creek

Ian had mentioned that the Falls Creek road was in good condition, having ridden up the day before to visit Kerrie, walking the High Country, and staying in Bogong, a tiny town on the Falls Creek Road. So that became the plan. Ray was the designated leader of this jaunt with an 11 am leave, giving the boys time to recover from the previous evening’s excesses. Julie and Fiona joined the gang for breakfast at The cosy Kangaroo, a very slow affair. We eventually got away well after 11 am. This time Martin and Carmen joined us, both forward and rear facing cameras mounted to the Martin’s Blackbird to catch the action. Unfortunately, Carmen (not surprisingly really) suffered a bout of motion sickness and a halt was called at Bogong. Martin SMSed this news to Ray, Bruce and myself, confirming that he had not crashed and would wait for our return.

A few of us headed up to the top car park for a look at the grand views. Not Ray, Bruce and Mick who had spotted a caffeine dispensing outlet and were soon partaking, but out of sight of the main road. When we returned we thought they had gone and so headed off down the mountain and back to camp. The trip up Tawonga Gap is somewhat easier in this direction – I only touched the brakes a couple of times heading up, just using one or two gears. The downside of this is that you tend to use a few more revs, equating to more power, resulting in savage tyre wear. Ooops. Sensational road.

Julie, Fiona and I spent most of the afternoon in the river – 38 degrees and hot! Ian was spending quite a bit of time with his daughter, son-in-law and grandchild, with day trips to Beechworth, Eldorado and the like. And here he was cooling off in the water, like much of the people at the park.

Late in the afternoon, while grocery shopping for tea, I received a call from Gary, a work colleague, riding his Harley the length of the Great Alpine Road, and all its off-shoots: Yackandandah Road, Happy Valley Road, Mt Buffalo, Tawonga Gap Road, etc. His wife, Carol, was following behind in the van. We organised to catch up and have tea together before they found accommodation – coincidentally joining Peter P, Carmen and Martin in a Porepunkah Motel. His rear tyre looked well worn and I wondered if it would go the distance. He was grinding away his foot boards, having just been up and down Mt Buffalo, doing untold damage to the bike’s resale value. He needs a Jap bike – as well!

Meanwhile the gang headed up Mt Buffalo, Then, on the way down they got entangled with a group of luge riders – giant skateboards ridden feet first as per the Olympic luge riders, except they are on ice. The lugers were fast, but not as fast as Pete Weyermayr, the leading luger getting speed wobbles when he noticed Pete nipping at his ears! Wish I was there.

Co-incidentally Les Leahy and Liz Oliver were involved in their own race of sorts – a roll race. Liz was low on fuel and it is possible to coast downhill for 20 km or so from the summit. It was no contest really, as evidenced by Les’s bike headlight appearing to be on every now and again, as he motored to catch up. As he noted, riding a trail bike with knobbies running low pressures (high rolling resistance) is no competition against a good rider on a much heavier bike.

That evening a fairly serious game of UNO was partaken of under the BBQ shelter. Most nights we were able to run an extension lead and get a fluoro light strung up allowing board games to be played. In other years we would have sat around a wood fire in the BBQ – both Ian and I brought bow saws for the collecting of wood. Alas, most days were nominated as Total Fire Ban days, including the gas BBQ. Something to do with insufficient concrete surrounds. Julie also notes that Barbara’s 2 kg box of cherries and bottle of blackberry wine purchased from the Bright Berry Farm were most excellent.

Sunday 29^th, Mitta Mitta

It was stinking hot, yet the forecast predicted rain, and it was raining in Melbourne and in the Western District. I figured rather than going into the high country we would head north and stay low where the temperature forecast was 40 degrees at Albury. We met at Porepunkah service station at 9.30 am. A half day ride with a swim in the river in the afternoon seemed a good plan.

Carmen, Julie and Fiona were heading off to the trout farm to catch tonight’s tea. Fiona described it as the highlight of her holiday. She had caught all four fish a couple of days ago and was restricted to three this time.

First stop Mitta Mitta for fuel, 140 km. No incidents. Bruce had figured the best person to follow was the one who knew the road the best – the leader – and amused himself blocking Ray and Ron, on their usual mission – as I slipped away. Again we had a fair swag of riders, all keeping a good pace, not getting spread out. After lunch we headed back the same way, this time heading down to Mt Beauty and across the Tawonga Gap, riding a little too fast, Ron and Rob Langer (on Bruce’s VFR800) on my hammer. We regrouped at the lookout where Bruce was amazed how easy/good the BMW R1150GS was to ride, even contemplating buying one.

My rear tyre, a near new Michelin Pilot Sport (latest tread pattern with little depth compared to the model before’s) was looking decidedly dodgy, down to the 1 mm wear marks on the sides. And I had to get home on it …not to mention two more day’s worth of riding.

Back to camp and then a ride up the mountain in the evening, hard on the gas, getting faster and faster – and starting to make small mistakes. Time to back off a little. Meanwhile Ron had agreed to meet his soon-to-be-wed daughter and fiance at Mansfield where she would hand over a couple of rear tyres and his set of leathers, inadvertently left at home. A 4 hour round trip. Ever the competitive one, he set about setting some sort of land speed record, competing with himself – and Mr Plod - with the inevitable consequences: 3 points and $200, his first fine in 18 months, a remarkable feat! And only 5 km from camp!

Monday 30^th, Happy Valley and Tawonga Gap, 120 km round trip

Another stinker, weather wise. The third total fire ban day in a row. It was a nominal 10.30 am leave from my tent. At the designated leave time, six guys were ready, including Danny on the ZX9 who has arrived around midnight the night before, waiting and sweating, but where was Martin? I figured we’d pick up Martin (and Bruce) along the way (we did) as we headed north up the highway to Ovens and across the Happy Valley road, this time in the opposite direction – feels like a different road. Back down the highway at a sedate pace to Mt Beauty where a few guys headed off up Falls Creek again, Ron chaffing at the bit, he thought the road was so good. The bottom third is just a bit too tight for my liking – all 2^nd and 3^rd gear 30 km/h corner stuff.

Then we squirted up the steep side of Tawonga Gap, regrouping at the lookout to watch the para-gliders jumping off the summit. The better pilots were catching a thermal and spiralling skywards to gain sufficient height before setting off cross-country. Looks like a pretty good sport.

Back at camp it was time to visit the Johnston/Peters tyre fitting depot. I borrowed Ian’s rear wheel stand, whipped the wheel out and handed it over to the dynamic duo. CBR929’s have uneven height swingarms, just to make life interesting, but given the ground was uneven, the bike rolled up on the stand perfectly level. You win some. Cardboard was used as a rim guard and a clean surface to rest the wheel on while a steel mallet and rod were expertly wielded, breaking the bead with a few swift strokes, after-all the tyre had only been on 6 days and 1490 km! Magically water laced with detergent appeared to soap up the “new” Dunlop 208 GP tyre, ready for installation. Kate and Pete had arrived and were interested observers, Kate not really comprehending that you can actually take a spanner to your bike if required. The intricacies of the cush drive were explained. Bingo! The tyre was back on the wheel. While Danny held the calliper in place, Ron drove the axle, Cliff fitted the chain, and I jiggled the wheel into position, it came together in rapid time, the team working like a well oiled chain. All over in half an hour. Thanks one and all.

Entertainment for the kids was provided by a very dead four foot red-bellied black snake, co-incidentally described in The Age today (6/1/03, page2) as less “aggressive than other snakes and only mildly venomous”. It certainly looked the part, especially after Julie overheard Fiona talking to her Mum describing how Craig, the park manager, had been out shooting Tiger, Black and Brown snakes in the middle of the night in the “Far Canal” (think about it) – none of which was true.

We headed up the Mt Buffalo Road as usual, Jon and Martin/Carmen driving, meeting us at the Chalet. The weather looked quite threatening, the storms about to hit. The guys took off (Ray, Bruce, Mick, Derek, Ron, Cliff.) but were hit by a rain storm at the first corner and were pretty wet by the time they reached camp. I decided to stick it out and waited under the information shelter roof with Carmen and Martin. After about the 15 minutes the rain ceased and the wind abated. I dawdled off back to camp, roads covered in leaf litter and twigs while Martin and Carmen checked out the Chalet, looking for meal options.

Tuesday 31^st, New Year’s Eve, Omeo

It was a wet night but the tent didn’t leak thanks to Julie’s waterproofing of the seams before we departed. The weather was overcast and cold, relatively – about 19 degrees. The call of the mountains was pressing, this to be our last ride opportunity before returning home. We settled on a 2.30 pm leave, giving the weather the most time to clear. There were eight of us: Ron, Clifford, Danny, Rob Langer, Ian Payne, Ray and Bruce. Derek and Martin didn’t trust the weather – and rightly so!

Heading out of camp we ran into the Gypsy Jokers – about 50 of them – fuelling up in Bright and then heading in the same direction as us - Omeo. We had heard them a couple of hours earlier roaring in to town, the earth trembling, the end of the world nigh, generating a tremendous roar as they wheeled around the roundabout. I already had in mind to shoot up the Tawonga Gap and give them time to get ahead. Rob thought this was an inspired decision. We didn’t really want to get mixed up with them – Bruce swore he would not pass any of them whereas Ray was looking forward to the battle with relish.

Strangely, the higher up the Tawonga Gap road we rode, the drier the roads became. Perhaps a good omen for the high country? On to Harrietville for fuel and re-evaluation of the weather. It wasn’t raining. The Harley’s had all gone through, let’s go to Hotham and think again – it’s only 30 km. The roads were damp and drying, grip good. I was quite pleased I had changed the rear tyre the previous evening, the decision paying dividends. It was a tolerable 11 degrees at the summit – overcast, windy and cool, but not seeming to be getting any worse. We decided to press on to Omeo, a further 55 km. Not far past Dinner Plain the roads dried out completely and we took full toll! The group rode nose to tail, Ian followed immediately behind me on his new Blade, really enjoying the bike and getting great confidence in the original fitment 010s. We passed a couple of straggler Harleys like a swarm of wasps.

The Harleys were stopped at the first petrol station which was fine by us as we didn’t need it, settling for lunch at the take-away shop on the left. It was bright and sunny.

Heading back now, the weather immediately started to close in, the roads damp with light rain falling and getting wetter. Ray started to drop off through the fast uphill 65 km/h sweepers, his rear tyre moving around. He worked his way down the field – which is very unusual for Ray. By the time we reached Dinner Plain we were riding through thick fog and heavy rain with visibility down to about 10 metres. From Dinner Plain to Harrietville, about 40 km, took over an hour with no stops. Regular checking of my digital speedo indicated speeds hovering around 34 and 37 km/h. I was riding completely by following the yellow lines, both the middle and left hand side ones, and sometimes only the one when the other disappeared! The fog was so thick that when we went through the tunnel at Omeo I realised that we must have already gone through the Hotham Heights township – I didn’t see it! Because we were riding so slowly our visors fogged up, closed (from our breath) and open (from the steam rising off our bikes). The wind was also buffeting us around, bouncing off the cuttings, driving the rain and sleet into our eyes – you had to ride with your visor open. Three times I found myself growling through my clenched teeth, wincing with the pain, struggling to see and breathe. A few times I hit 50 km/h and cheered to myself. The fear of running wide in a corner was very real, and even at 34 km/h I had to jam on the brakes as I headed straight for a wall on one occasion. We passed cars going even slower. I remember two groups of three – which I initially thought were only two – and just deciding to go for it. I managed to catch a glimpse of the road and noted that it was streaming with water – and I had effectively cut slicks on – 208GP rear and a Pilot Race on the front – with tread grooves every 10 cm or so. Nevertheless, the grip was outstanding, but I guess it ought to be at 40 km/h! Only one headlight came with me – I thought it was Ray but it turned out to be Rob – fearing for his life if he ever lost sight of my tail light.

Five kilometres above Harrietville the fog cleared and we were able to get a move on. What a relief to reach Harrietville in one piece. Rob congratulated me. If we weren’t so blokey we would have hugged each other. The troops arrived home, like World War II bombers returning from a sortie over Berlin, having survived the anti-aircraft fire, the enemy fighter pilots, and the tyranny of distance. We were a bedraggled lot, dripping wet, red faced, and hurting in lots of places. Riding at low speeds steeply downhill with lots of braking throws a lot of weight on your hands. People were getting off and wringing their hands. I realised a couple of my fingers were numb. Ian and I looked at each other and agreed that these were the worst conditions we had ever ridden in. The others concurred. Only Bruce had full wet weathers. Most of us were riding in summer gear – including summer gloves. At least I had wet weather pants. Mind you my boots were full of water – like everyone elses, gloves sodden.

Back to camp with a few stories to tell. The usual Buffalo Ride took place but I settled for some nice dry clothes and a meal in Bright as the New Year’s Eve festivities warmed up. It was a very quiet midnight celebration back at camp – no fireworks, no rock band. Nevertheless, ear plugs were pressed into operation at 1.15 am.

Wednesday 1^st January, 2003 Porepunkah to Melbourne

Pete and Liz had left a couple of days before to comply with work commitments. Pete towed his bike home on my trailer, following Liz. Which just left us to pack up the tent and head off. After attempting to fly the kite and one last ride at the BMX jumps near the swimming hole, we hit the road around 12.30 pm. I caught up to Julie, Fiona, Ray and Bruce at Millawa for lunch and fuel. I noted Ray now had one of Ron’s 208 GPs on – a mate in Bright had a tyre changing machine. The plan was to catch Bruce and Ray at Whitfield but we were slow eating. I missed them at Mansfield and we all made our separate ways home. It is amazing how easy familiar roads seem after a week’s riding. The Flowerdale Road was a breeze, though the traffic was pretty heavy.

It was an excellent week’s holiday with 25 members and friends to share it with. The bike clocked over its second birthday and 70,000 km, though I missed the moment – it was foggy at the time! We have already booked our tent site for next year!

Ben and Julie Warden