Moto GP Barbeque Alternative  Sunday 17th October, 2004

 

BMWR1150 GS          Rob Langer (Leader)                Honda CBR929           Ian Payne

Yamaha R6                  Joel Haley                                Honda CBR929           Greg Hales

Honda CBR919           Brett Emmerson                        Honda CBR1100XX    Martin Hastie

Honda VFR750           Renzo Cunico                           Honda CBR600           Ricky (1st ride)

Suzuki DRZ400            Les Leahy (Rear Rider)           

 

For those of us without the necessary $500 for a Phillip island GP three day pass and grand stand seat (not to mention accommodation) the Sunday alternative ride was looking just that. A very good alternative.

 

Robbie Langer had kindly rung to invite me down to Melbourne for the GP Barbeque and to stay over afterwards at his home. “What a good idea” thought I, as it has been a very long time since last riding with the Club.

 

After consulting the trusty map, I left Heathcote just before 8am and headed into a stunning, if somewhat brisk, day. Broadford, Strath Creek, Flowerdale, Break O’Day, Glenburn, Castella, Yarra Glen. Wowee! I’d been on a Club ride even before I started on the Club ride.

 

It was going to be a bit of a liquorice-all-sorts hills ride, as we swung left out of Yarra Glen and headed for Christmas Hills. Even before I’d cleared the streets of town, a copper whistled past on his white, full police dress, BMW. I could tell by the hairs on the back of my neck that this walloper was out for blood. There would be no group warning to the Club, no gentle reminder. Unfortunately we were in an 80 km/h road which extends all the way back to Melbourne and poor Greg Hales was about to feel the full imprint of the jack-boot of the law descend on him from a great height.

 

Greg opened the taps to squirt past a car or two and ‘ping’ he was done. Done like a dinner. Six months loss of licence, a fine (equivalent to the gross-national debt of a small African nation), and a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. The corner markers at Alma Road and a couple of others waited until Greg came through. He excused himself from the rest of the ride and quietly headed home. If not Greg, it would have been one of the others. No-one was riding under 80 km/h.

 

Which leads us to a topical conundrum. Most roads well beyond the city fringe are now carrying continuous speed limits. Most bikes in the Club are out and out sports bikes and not suited to riding below the speed limits. The Police are on alert to deal harshly but fairly with the sports-bike phenomena.

 

I will be very interested to observe the outcome of this confrontation. During the ride, I sat on or just under the speed limits all day. Even on a 400cc chooky it was almost impossible to achieve ‘flow’ and the result was less than pleasing. The sort of scenario that could influence one to take up lawn bowls or croquet. Good luck.

 

Kinglake, Myers Creek Road, Healesville, the Don Road. At the beginning of the five kilometres of very smooth gravel road, Ian and Martin signalled for me to stop. They thought it only fair to advise me that even though the itinerary had not specified ‘dirt’ on the ride, there was in fact a section of the aforementioned surface and that if I should decide (for Health and Safety reasons) to retrace my steps via the bitumen, I was entitled to do so.

 

I thought about it for a moment and then told them to get out of the #?(@// way or I’d use them both for knobby-tyre traction.

 

Somewhere after here I lost total track of where we were until we arrived in Woori Yallock. I know it was Woori Yallock ‘cos it was sign painted on a shop. Robbie knew the location of a bakery inside the mall (he knows them all, you know) and we proceeded henceforth.

 

It was here that an amazing occurrence of natural science evolved. Brett was sitting at a table in the walk-way eating his coffee scroll or some such delicacy and minding his own business, when suddenly a small dusty feathery ball glanced off his head and bombed into his shoulder and then plummeted (at a reduced speed) to the floor.

 

Had Brett Emmerson not been seated in that very position, and at that very moment, we would have had a dead baby sparrow on our hands. Yes, the little bugger had toppled 4 metres out of the nest and triggered a sequence of events that it will relate to its offspring and its offsprings’ offspring for years to come. I just knew you would be interested and care.

 

With the insight of age and wisdom, Ian gathered up the half-feathered little whipper-snapper and palmed him off onto a nearby group of young girls. Ian explained that young girls can’t resist a small bird or animal in distress, thus removing responsibility for the worm-infested little bugger off our collective shoulders.

 

At Woori Yallock the ride divided into two distinct groups. The young bucks were going off to ride the ‘Spurs’ and the old farts were going to the free barbeque with Robbie and Kirsten. There’s a parable there somewhere and I’m trying to figure out what it is.

 

Back in Burwood, Kirsten and Rob had done an excellent job with the food and facilities. Ben was already there and Andi Sirninger and Tom Saville soon arrived on the Suzuki chooky. In fact, we had no fewer than 4 life members there for the afternoon. Ben, Tom, Ian and myself.

 

Oh! … and the television Moto G.P. coverage?  Some fellow called Rossi won the unlimited event. Should make a reasonable rider when he gets a little older and with a little more experience.

 

Les Leahy (Suzuki DRZ400)