Two boys on two wheels continued- Melbourne to Noosa

Beautiful NSW South Coastline

    As we cruise up the highway the road is straight and smooth. I can feel the warmth of the sun through my leather jacket and on my thighs covered in Kevlar and denim. The warm air funnels up through the bottom of my jeans and open visa on my helmet. The intercom is quiet as we both lose ourselves reflecting on the past eight days as we effortlessly cover the final 60km’s of our journey from Melbourne home to Noosa spanning 2000km as the crow flies but closer the 2500 following the coastal route we embarked on. It is such a pleasant change from the rain and freezing temperatures we experienced winding through the mountains yesterday and we are in no real hurry to reach the end point.

This time last year Cooper and I undertook our first major bike trip around northern NSW. I remember at the conclusion there had been   an unmistakable bond despite the long hours of silence. This ride  seemed to have built on that.

 “what was the most exciting thing about the trip?” I ask.  

“Definitely running out of petrol and having to hitch a lift to and from the bike” he answers 

enthusiastically.

        “Best part of the ride?” I push

“Riding with Mark across the Harbor Bridge” is the immediate response.

        “Most fun?”

“Going Ice skating and playing with Mia and Eva’s rabbits”

        “Worst part?”

“Yesterday in the cold and rain”

I agree with him.

It seemed hard to believe that eight days ago we boarded a Qantas plane from Brisbane early in the morning, arriving in a chilly Melbourne airport, immediately reaching for the jumpers we had dutifully packed in the warmth of QLD spring. After picking up the bike we grabbed some lunch and set up our new intercom system made available by the full helmets appropriate for such a trip

Our first stop was across town at some old friends of mine. The last time I had seen Jonathon and Julie they had one baby who slept in the pram as we stayed up late watching Hey Hey its Saturday and then rage (music video show) on TV till the wee hours of the morning. Today as we pull up out the front of their house Joshua is busy with University studies and their other three children are fine young adults. We have only a brief time together and with sadness we left for our first stopover, Philip Island.

Philip Island is home to a colony of penguins that at this time of year come ashore, walking up the sand over to mate and lay their eggs in the dunes protected from the southerly winds that on this night chill to the bone. After seeing the first few rafts make the dash up the beach we decide to follow their lead and head for the protection offered on the sheltered side of the tourist filled stands. I was pleased to see them, but after our ride and with our garments not stopping the cold winds from penetrating to the core, having to face so many tourists was more than enough and I was pleased to head back to the local Pizza shop for dinner and finally to the Seahorse Hotel which was our home for the night.

Indeed the morning revealed Philip Island to be a beautiful, green and open Island with a country community feel to it as we walked into town for breakfast and then proceeded to its other international landmark....its race circuit.

Philip Island Town

Hosting the Moto GP motorbikes in mid October each year there is also a host of other motor sport activities during the year and we cruised the perimeter unable to take a lap as it is basically closed to the public.

The next leg took us through some spectacular countryside on our passage to Lakes Entrance. On the way we managed to find a detour out to Wilson’s Promontory. It is officially the last point before leaping off across the Bass Strait to Tasmania and harked into to my sailing days so I was curious to get a land perspective. It was a spectacular National Park with a beautiful camping area at Tidal River at the end of the promontory. It was a shame that we could not spend more time exploring out here and I would love to come back

Road out to Wilson's Promontory

I don’t want to let out this little secret but I feel I must let you in. Governments seem hell bent on building bigger, straighter highways that are quicker and safer and more accommodating. Having steered all the traffic here they spend all their resources policing and slowing people down leaving long, straight passages devoid of any character or even towns. The only respite seems to be mega service stations with a plethora of fast food convenience stores to fill stomachs at the same rate as the cars tanks.

The good news is however, that the old highways are well kept and far more interesting roads. Sure, there aren’t as many passing opportunities, but then again you don’t need as many because there are less people to pass. They also lead through delightful little towns that appreciate the people who make the effort to say hello.

The signs are there, brown rectangles usually marked as tourist drives or scenic routes. Every now and again we took one that lead out to a beach or vantage point and involved a small dig back, but even then someone was always there to give you the tip of a better locals road to get wherever you wanted. Before ending up at Yarram we had a beautiful ride through towns such as Venus Bay, Sandy Point and Foster. Having spent the day fossicking around these towns it was time to push on to Lakes Entrance and as the south east er blew in and the afternoon sun quickly lost its heat we settled into our cabin at the caravan park with fish and chips and a hot shower.

The Morning broke clear and warm without a hint of the breeze that made the evening so uncomfortable. We enjoyed stretching our legs and walking into town for our morning meal.

Flowering Australian Wattle

Lakes Entrance Marina

Blacks swan and sonates

Keen to get moving we left Lakes Entrance for another legendary fishing town, this time over the border into NSW- Eden. This whole ride was basically through national park and involved a 50km detour from Genoa into Mallacoota another town with a reputation for its sleepy beauty.  

Having filled up at Yarram the day before we left thinking we could get fuel at a number of towns on the way. Having passed through Orbost I thought I would get fuel at the next town. That was fine except that it turns out the next town with fuel was Cann’s River 60km away and we had enough to get us around 48km!  The ensuing 48km was spoilt as we came into “town” after “town” with a small cafe but no petrol! Eventually we coughed and spluttered to an untimely halt as the tank dried out and we reluctantly pushed my pride and joy onto the side of the road and began thumbing a ride into town. I must say that this was totally new territory for Cooper and there was a slight panic in his demeanor which turned into fascination as the next car that came past stopped and gave us a ride into town. Queenslander’s on their own adventure they took us in their stride and although their names and details are lost we will always appreciate their kindness and generosity.

Even the wildlife enjoy the view!

The United Service station at Cann’s River was much better prepared than us, and as we sheepishly approached them they pulled a Gerry can of the shelf and, as if it happens all the time(which they assured us it does)  thrust it toward me and asked for my credit card as security. Having filled the canister we got a lift with some guys overloaded with dirt bikes returning to Melbourne from a wild weekend and in less than half an hour was back by the bike. Cooper was in awe of these guys and was so excited to have had a ride with them. 

With a full tank of fuel we were on our way again thankful that no further incident had occurred and a new protocol for refilling was established!

Mallacoota

I have the bike book by Henna called 200 top rides which dedicates 6 lines to the 27km between Genoa and Mallacoota. It was one of the nicest rides so far and deserved more space. A good road full of twists and bends with minimal traffic through State Forest was both beautiful and fun and passed all too quickly. Camping at Mallacoota is on the river where the park has accommodated the fishing boats with pylons for campers to moor their boats to. A short walk takes you into the small but ample shops for all the requirements you could need. At the end of the river waves crashed on the beach providing the perfect backdrop.

Beautiful camping site

Despite the distance needed to travel each day we seemed to be constantly on the move and so all too soon it was time to hit the road. As sad as it was to leave we were excited about the prospect of the ride back to Genoa and then on to Eden. Having crossed the border into NSW we checked into the Fountain Caravan park in good time and loved both the setting and size of our cabin in this open green park filled with the sound of bell birds. Situated on Lake Curaio there is a boardwalk that leads out to the beach and a connected walkway along the sandy beach littered with people fishing. 

Eden Fishing Wharf

Our morning exploration took us down to the fishing wharf, the maritime museum and Twofold Bay. The riding over the past three days had been so scenic and fun that I thought it couldn’t possibly get any better but Eden’s special atmosphere was not left lingering for too long as the ride to Ulladulla led our way through beautiful national parks down to stunning beaches and pretty towns such as Pambula,Merrimbula, Bermagui,Bateman's Bay and Mogo. The days ride finished all too quickly and we pulled into our cabin in Ulladulla complete with a mini putt putt course which Cooper was keen to take full advantage of. 

Twofold Bay

Memorial to lost sailors

    The morning broke with ominous clouds and the feeling that the winds of change was in the air. We left Ulladulla at eight with a special mission.

An old friend Mark and I had caught up recently at a family gathering. We used to ride sports bikes a life time ago and although our choice of bike may have changed over the years, the desire for a road trip had not diminished and hearing of our adventure had taken the day off and ridden down early from Sydney to meet us at Kiama. Known for its blowhole that funnels the swells that crash into the rocks and converts them into a massive explosion of spray enhanced by the booming sound that reverberates around the ledge! With the roads damp and sky overcast we spent a fantastic day riding through Wollongong with a special section of road built out over the water to avoid the rockfalls from the cliffs that has covered the old road.  That lead up to Stanwell Tops giving a wonderful vista of the cliff faces north bordering the Royal National Park  plunging into the deep blue Pacific Ocean.

View from Stanwell Tops

The Royal National Park, established in 1879 is the worlds 2nd oldest national park behind Yellowstone in the USA. It was heritage listed in 2006 protecting its 15,091 hectares from the continuous urban sprawl of Sydney only 32km to the north. We spent the day negotiating its moss covered roads blocked from the sun by a canopy of trees. Lunching at  Bundeena tucked away opposite Cronulla beach and looking down Port Hacking it was hard to believe that the city was so close.

With the clouds giving way to light rain we rode into Sydney
 and to Coopers delight we passed the Opera house and crossed over the coat hanger (Sydney Harbor Bridge)riding side by side under the massive grid of grey steel arching way over our heads. Heading over to the Northern Beaches we said goodbye to Mark and continued to the Schaffler’s house at Church Point. Michael is Coopers God father and been my closest friend for twenty years. Rebecca, his beautiful wife along with Mia and Eva his daughters were waiting expectantly for us.  Cooper bonded immediately with the girls enjoying the  relaxed atmosphere.

Cooper,Mia and rabbits

With a wet and windy day forecast we decided to give our backsides a break and stay for the next day. All the kids had a great time playing with their rabbits and cats, only broken by the prospect of a session at the ice skating rink. Whilst Cooper went with the girls to the rink I cleaned the bike and caught up with a good friend from work.

Day 7 looked distinctly brighter and less windy than the day before so after some sad farewells we picked our way through Ku ring gai National Park, usually filled with cyclists up to the highway north. Our only stop off was to show Cooper the house I grew up in. 

One of my claims to fame is having grown up with the Jackman family. Cricket, football, frizbees and playing in our pool with a young Hugh, who could have ever guessed he would become an international movie star and all round hunk of the world!!

Gotta love hotels with these!

View from the top of Gloucester Range

Taking an exit off the freeway we headed out for  a more sedated pace taking the back road out to Gloucester via Lake Maquarrie, Hunter Valley and Stroud through a scenic if not bumpy road north. It seems that after all the energy expended at the Schaffler’s it was prudent to stay in the town famous for its bush ranger Captain Thunderbolt and its early gold exploration.

The next morning looked decidedly threatening as we rode out of town preparing to take on the Gloucester Mountain range that took us to the plain land leading to Walcha and Armidale. Having reached the summit we took some pics before what turned out to be our most miserable ride of the trip. Having told Cooper about the long, flat country full of horses, cows and sheep he was sold the sucker punch as the rain began to fall as steadily as the temperature dropped. By the time we had completed the 150km to Walcha we were so wet and frozen that it took me ten minutes to thaw out my hands enough to remove my helmet and another hour and a half ( and two coffees and a hot chocolate ) to get to a point where I could even consider riding again. Fortunately the rain eased and we were satisfactorily thawed enough to continue to Armidale where, although really pretty we pressed on, making a bee line for the drop down into Dorrigo and the promise of warmer temperatures. Cooper was a trooper through this and I appreciated his unwavering enthusiasm despite being cold and wet. I was very proud of him and his attitude.

Del Fuego - Worlds smallest motorbike museum

Dorrigo sits on the top of the dividing range and overlooks the volcanic perimeter down to the coast. it is also home to Del Fuego, the worlds smallest motor cycle museum. As the sun began to dry the road and warm our souls we stopped here just as we had on our trip last year and considered it an annual pilgrimage. We changed  into some warm dry clothes and watched the football Grand Final. 

Rest stop by Mclean River

The final run of the day took us down the other side of the range on a small, windy, soft edged and mostly unmarked road through sub tropical rain forest through to Grafton on the edge of the Mclean River. I was so exhausted both mentally and physically that by the time we settled into our hotel room, a cup of warm tea and biscuits were all I could manage before we both found solace in the warmth of our cosy beds.

The last day of our adventure broke without a hint of precipitation from the day before. We decided to bypass the national park through Mt Warning and the Gold Coast and take a leisurely cruise home.