Tuesday, August 26, 2008

The area surrounding Cairns includes some “yellow roads” – and we rode a few of them. But getting to them was a whole lot trickier than is should have been. Our tour organizer had suggested a route that would bypass a town or two, and with the proper programming, our GPS came to agree. We crossed our fingers and hoped that no gravel or dirt unsuitable for Victoria’s bike would be involved. But our trip map, our GPS and even our fingers betrayed us. One road in particular became quite narrow, then turned to gravel, then turned to dual-track dirt. I went ahead to see if conditions might ‘get better’ (tough phrasing for a GS rider) but no, they certainly didn’t. As I rode ahead, I crossed a bridge of sorts – one made of pipes perpendicular to the direction of travel with six inch tire-swallowing gaps between the pipes and no guard rails. That was a deterrent, but the deal was sealed when I later came to a locked gate blocking the road. According to the GPS I was only 2kms from an intersecting highway. Maybe the locals are tired of shortcutters (and I wouldn’t blame them a bit. . .).

So we retraced our route and took the ‘honest route’ to get to the ‘yellow roads.’

First the Palmerston Highway (through the Misty Mountains where we encountered our first rain), then the highly twisty descending Gilles Highway, then the ocean-facing Captain Cook Highway.

That day we came about as close as we might have imagined to realizing our goal of finding Doug’s missing chair, or at least explaining its disappearance. As we rode on, we came across this sign. . . .

“Douglas Shire?” – now even the hobbits seem to be involved. . .

And soon, a whole port named after Mr. D. G. Biv (who is apparently in cahoots with a shady character named “Mossman” – yikes!). . .

We faced our adversaries straight on and headed right into town. The plot was about as thick as it could get. . .

We found shelter in town and secured ourselves behind a locked door, preparing for a full day’s search. The following day Victoria took to the sea where she saw many a fish but very few chairs.

And I took to the surrounding area, the Kennedy Highway. Several horses, but also no chairs.

So close. So very close. Doug’s chair was close, we could just smell it (and that was not pleasant). Or could it be that we were mistaken? Later that day I received an urgent message from an anonymous source (for now we will call him Chiba). I’ll let the image do the talking. . .

Could it be that the Australia lead was a phony? Was the chair theft just a ruse to distract us from a much larger white board eraser plot??? Could it be that Doug himself set us up??? Dangitall – we’d been duped! Okay fine, back to the states. . .

But first, one last Australia shot, the obligatory roo sign shot. . .

Monday, August 25, 2008

Some more chair sightings. . .

Doug, a cabana print for you perhaps?. . .

no paul. . .

Or maybe a spiritual lounger?. . .

no paul. . .

How about seating near some didgeridoos?

no paul. . .
Continuing north, the temperatures continued to be more agreeable and the days seemed longer, in large part because we were eager to hit the road earlier. But still the roads weren’t much to comment on, mostly highways shared with cars and trucks, with speed limits topping out at 110 km/hr and dipping to 40 or 60 in towns. With little much to engage us on the road, we focused more on road-side attractions. Quite notable among such things was a very large Mango, perhaps even the world’s largest, but almost definitely this town’s largest. . .

Also of note was a winery by the name of Murdering Point. Considering the intrigue involved in our mission, we certainly needed to stop. But I wouldn’t turn my back on the place. . .

Having seen only one live roo-like creature so far, we stopped by a zoo of sorts to make sure that we’d see one or two of Australia’s finest (not including –of course- the police man who let me ‘borrow’ his bike). At the ‘animal sanctuary’ (or other similar term meant to justify crating a bunch of animals and then train them to feed from the hands of their worst nightmare) we came face-to-face with many a fine specimen.

Here we have a koala, seemingly cute and cuddly, but reportedly at the ready to rip your throat if you disrespect it in any way. . .

We met up with a kangaroo. It looked quite familiar from the MANY we’d seen along the road – it looked quite dead. But when it responded to a simple inquiry about a certain piece of office furniture, we realized it was merely snoozing.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, another hopper showed much more aggression as it charged me. I did the only thing I could think to do, I took its picture. . .

We met up with many other agents of Australia’s underground at that park. Gators, wombats, snakes, freaky birds. I could post pictures of them, but you probably know what they look like. Instead I’ll post a picture of me. Hi. . .

. . .and one of Victoria working some counter-intelligence with “the enemy.”

After such a focused encounter with the natives, a long run was in order. Here’s a view from the beach at sunrise. . .

And in leaving the rainforest-lined beach that morning, we were warned of yet more perilous creatures.

Cassowaries? Someone totally made that up. . .

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Later that day – after the fishtailing, and after giving the police man back his motorcycle – we followed our trip route toward Rainbow Beach (truth be told, when we asked the police man how he liked his BMW, he surprised us with the ‘good news’ that the beemers would be replaced with more affordable and less ‘fussy’ Japanese bikes).

As with other days on this winter trip, we found ourselves pressed for time, trying to reach our overnight location while the sun was out and the roos were in. But as had happened before, we found ourselves with more distance to go than sunlight to see by.

As we followed our instructions, our GPS and our noses, we found ourselves on a windy gravel road heading up hill. My GS was a good match for the road but Victoria’s low-riding heavy cruiser was not well suited. And what’s worse than an uphill ride in gravel on a cruiser? Hmmm, how about a downhill ride in deep sand on a cruiser. . . Yep, that’s worse.

As we reached a crest on the gravel road, I followed the well-intending GPS prompt to turn right. I didn’t even notice the sign that warned of impassable conditions ahead. But when I looked behind me and saw no Copernicus, I realized that she had stopped before making the ill-advised turn. Here are a couple shots from that crossroads.

While we turned the bikes around to orient them toward the lesser of two unpaved evils, a woman passed in a 4WD vehicle and advised us of a best and least-gravelly route. As we followed her advice, we headed first down one small road, then a second. In complete darkness the second road turned to gravel. We stopped and turned back (much against the advice of both the woman and my GPS). On our way back to pavement we saw two very speedy animals. The first was a deer or similar, just like at home. The second was smaller and did quite a bit of hopping. It was interesting to see our first live kangaroo but it was better to not meet it in person.

After several attempted routes, we found one that delivered us in good shape to our overnight.

Morning came early and we hopped on an impressive vehicle. It was a bus up top, with comfortable seats for a couple dozen people. But it was a massive 4WD attack truck underneath, capable of handling the deep sands of our next stop, Fraser Island. This would be the first day off the bikes in about a week. One day off was okay. I guess.

Fraser Island is remarkable in many countless ways. It is so super special that our tour guide could spend hours and hours telling of it’s uniqueness. I on the other hand can recall very little of what he said. But it was pretty. And there was a lot of sand. . .

And warnings of other dangerous animals. . .

We actually did see a couple dingoes – one milling around in a parking area, and another on a lake-side beach. The beach dingo provided the day’s best entertainment when it suck up on one sun-bather, grabbed his beach-bag and ran like hell back into the forest. Several signs warn to not leave bags unattended. I imagine the same holds true for chairs.

I was quick to mark and document the crime scene. . .

Neither of these people are actually dingoes, at least so far as you know. . .

From Rainbow Beach we headed north again. Other than the bit of off-pavement excitement we’d had two nights past, the roads have been unremarkable for the last few days. We hadn’t been on a “yellow road” (one’s highlighted as recommended by my Australia Motorcycle Atlas) for a while, but more lay ahead later in the trip.

But it has been getting warmer, as one might expect now that we’re officially in the tropics. Here’s a shot of a touristy marker for the Tropic of Capricorn. . .

And to commemorate that milestone, Victoria requested that I take a shower. We compromised with a healthy dose of “fly spray.”

A couple more points for this post, first about rotaries, and then about BMW dealerships. . .

Concerning rotaries, I find them to be quite fun. And they are well organized in Australia, at least based on the ones I’ve experienced. And taking a bonus loop or two has been particularly rewarding for me, as it’s fun to turn right in circles for a while. I think it’s evening out my ear fluid or whatever has been knocked out of whack from turning left endlessly at Mount Vernon.

While not a rotary, here is a shot of a beach-side cal-de-sac where I circled for a few minutes one morning before hitting the road for the day.

Concerning BMW dealerships, it is interesting to note that cars and motorcycles are sold side-by-side in Australia, at least in some cases. I don’t know that to be true (or acceptable) in the U.S.

And here are a couple shots of bikes not-so-easily-available in the states. . .

The low temperatures robbed Victoria’s bike’s battery of all usefulness. . .


so with the help of our innkeeper and his son, we made a little one-way push start attempt down a gravel road – success!


We bundled up and rode east from Armidale toward the coast, taking another highly-rated road, the Waterfall Way. We stopped in Dorrigo and poked around the national park – our first rainforest visit of the trip.

Looking out from a certain vantage point, we couldn’t see the trees trough the forest.


Needing a closer view, Captain Copernicus did her thing. . .


To the east of Dorrigo the road becomes ideal for motorcycling. Tight turns, great views, well-paved roads. A shot of the bike. . .


and a shot of the view. . .


Heading north, we exited New South Whales and entered Queensland. Passing through Brisbane, we encountered quite a bit of traffic. And then it happened: the spookiest thing that’s ever happened to me on a motorcycle. We had been riding in the left (slow) lane and approached some very slow-moving traffic. Victoria moved over to the right (passing) lane but there was no time for me to move over to fall in with her. I came to a nearly complete stop while a few cars passed, then there was an opening. So I hit the throttle, turned first to the right and ten quickly to the left. I must have been too much on the throttle because the rear end started to slide out to the right - - the back tire must have spun and lost traction - - I fishtailed quite a bit it seemed. I let off the gas a bit, no clutch, no brakes - - I guess it was the right move as the rear came back to center, but then kept going. And soon I was fishtailing to the left. And then back to the right. And then to the left again. It felt like a ‘tank slapper’ except the front wheel wasn’t shifting from side to side, only the back wheel was. All I know is that I kept the front end pointed forward while the back end moved violently from side to side, and very quickly. No damage other then a bit of lost rubber and some bruising on the inside of my knees where the bike hit me, hit me a lot. I was shaken up a little but needed to concentrate on the traffic around me. I did notice that the car behind me gave me quite a bit of space after that. . .

We pulled into a gas station and I asked Victoria, “well, did you see that?” “See what?” she replied. “Oh, nothing. . .”

At the station we met two other riders. Ian told us that he was riding his R1150RT over to Hervey Bay, where the 2008 BMW Safari was to begin the next day. The “rolling rally” was to begin in that town and end up in Cairns - - a schedule very similar to ours. We’d make an effort to meet up with the crew. . .

We also met one of Queensland’s finest, a motorcycle cop. I envied his bike and thought it would make a much more credible vehicle to chase after those who may have stolen Doug’s chair. Plus, my bike could never again be trusted after trying to throw me. So I stole the police bike. Admit it, you’d have done the same thing. . .

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

A couple recent chair sightings. . .


Doug, did you have a sweet Elvis chair?. . .


no paul. . .


Doug, were you up late eating burger rings?. . .


no paul. . .
After the Putty Road we continued “northish” through the mountains. The Oxley Highway, Thunderbolts Way. We seem to be in Australia during a cold snap - - and at elevations reaching 1,300 meters, things got a bit chilly. Temperatures were below freezing in the evening, so we got a late start in the morning, after things had warmed up a bit. The problem with that approach is that we need to ride purposefully (few stops) so that we can reach our next overnight destination before winter’s short daylight hours come to a close.

Victoria truckin’ through the hills. . .


The 1200 looking out over the hills. . .


And although we’ve not seen any yet, apparently kangaroos come out at night, primarily to feed – and secondarily to scare and/or hurt motorists. (NOTE: while I say that we haven’t seen a kangaroo yet, in truth we have. But in more truth, we haven’t seen a live one – just a bunch of gross bloody ones at the side of the road).

Signs warn of spooky chair-stealing, car-jacking, pouch-nursing critters. . .


These are not words of complaints, they are just observations. The upshot of the cold temperatures is that in order for it so be so cold, the skies are likely clear (and they are). And if the skies are clear (as they are (like I said in the last sentence (don’t make me tell you this again))), then there is no precipitation. Victoria and I agreed that a chill is better than a soaking.

Also, I’ve been making progress on settling in on the “new” GS. The GPS is coming in VERY handy (although it occasionally sends us down unpredictable “shortcuts”). The radio feeds into a helmet intercom – Victoria has the same set-up. She TOTALLY loves it when I sing to her. Oh, and the little tube up front displays the bike registration as required in these parts. . .


For now I’ll end with a nice sunset shot. Here we’re staying at a winery (good call). It all looks peaceful, but remember – there’s a roo behind every tree, just waiting to do something unspeakable. . .