Eildon MK II Sunday 7^th June, 2009

BRING IT ON!!! ...O’er fields we go, laughing all the way! Har! Har! Har!...Oh what fun it is to ride...in the glooorious rain! J It was really cold and oh so foggy. Both pairs of gloves I brought got completely soaked and I kept losing feeling in my fingers from the cold, but the ride was so worth it! I absolutely loved it! Pina and Misho, bless all your cotton socks for lending me your wet weather jacket and pants; they kept the rest of me dry for the remainder of the day.

By the way, Ed, why did you wait three weeks before asking me to contribute a write up for the Eildon ride? Like I have some sort of photographic memory! Lucky I’m such a pushover! J

Well, no chance of remembering the names of where we went or how long the ride was, but suffice to say, it made me so happy... until the police took down my driver license and number plate, but more on that later. We got to the top of the mountain and Ben rushed us to get our picture taken in our sexy—not!—wet weather gear before the thick fog enveloped us, although that would have made for an interesting picture. The view was just breathtaking, with the expanse of the lake way down below and the clouds next to us moving in thick and fast, but not fast enough to cover up Marty and Dave doing bad things with their fingers in the photos—and it’s not what you think... shame on you both.

We started off with a reasonable sized group at Yarra Glen but after morning tea, Paul, Cliff, Ken and Dennis decided they had better things to do and left us. What a shame as the ride was just fantastic, up and down mountains, in and out of boat clubs, detouring around marinas, winding here, there and everywhere, dirt roads galore, being chased by the fog, and the best part, of course, the rain! It really made my day. J At one point, it poured so hard you could only make out a set of lights coming at you from the other side of the road. Did I mention how cool the rain was? My, it was divine J

One location name I do recall is Kinglake, only because two police officers crossed the road from their station to greet us as we parked. To be honest, they looked a little embarrassed to be there. They received a telephone complaint from a local as she was driving through the hills. Apparently she’d been overtaken across double lines by a couple of male motorcyclists, with two female riders in tow. Really? Between you and me, her observation skills were a bit off centre, as she missed a fifth rider among us. Anyway, I was genuinely curious as to how one could differentiate between genders beneath all the bulky wet weather gear and received a prompt response from a woman standing nearby, “You can tell, and actually, it was me who called the police!” Woh! Speedy Gonzales! Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Well, someone definitely woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, didn’t they? She proceeded to get aggro with the officers, who didn’t hesitate to tell her to “go away”, which she did reluctantly, but not without earbashing us some more over her shoulder whilst heading back to her 4WD. Whilst one of us made himself scarce, the officers did their job and noted down four license plates and drivers licenses—you guys are bad!

After a hot drink in the cafe and cracking up over some hilarious stories, we all parted ways for home.

Unfortunately, after three weeks, that’s about all I can remember from that day. Thanks Ben and Dave for leading and rearing.

Hey, check out my chicken strip on the next club ride. J

Ha Du