the perfect ride

Autumn Leaves - Maleny

What makes a perfect ride? For everyone it is different. I think most people riding on two wheels would agree curves are a prerequisite, but there are so many other factors involved because riding a motorcycle stimulates so many senses.
Last year I spent 5 days winding around every mountain I could find between Melbourne back to Brisbane and although I enjoyed the challenge I was extremely happy to find some pretty back roads that allowed me to kick back and enjoy the scenery. Those back roads are my favourite,  but its nice to cover some distance quickly with short bursts along the freeways with smooth bitumen and wide lanes.
One of my other joys is the aroma that varies between the salt laden coastal runs and the distinct earthy  hues from the country. Even the mulch on the gardens mingle with blossoming flowers to give a vibrant and fresh experience.

Looking south toward Coolum

The final sensation is the visual.  From the thrill of winding around a sparking blue ocean to the panoramic vista on top of a mountain range. Equally breathtaking is the green countryside and valleys on inland trips with contented cows and livestock littering the gentle rolling hills.

During spring the flowers blossom as a ride through Grafton in October will attest with Jacaranda's flouting its beautiful purple buds. Higher in the ranges a different story is told. Armidale, more like an English town is famous for its maple trees splendid in spring and subdued in autumn as the broad leaves turn yellow and brown before dropping, littering the surrounding grounds.
All this is great but where do you find all of that in a day ride?
I am so lucky to live in the beautiful town of Noosa, the northern end of the Sunshine Coast,  so on a sunny morning Cooper, my son and I headed south along the David Low Way which follows the beautiful Sunshine Coast  through Coolum down to Mudjimba - 30 odd Kilometers of pristine coastline with waves rolling in over blue ocean before throwing its white foam onto the golden sand.

Vineyards looking over Glass House Mountains

Passing the Sunshine Coast Airport there is a short stretch of brand new, clean black bitumen with stark white lines marking the dual carrageway and framing the path leading out to Palmwoods before leading into a narrow, twisting path up the Blackall Range exiting at Montville, a pretty little tourist town with plenty of craft shops selling mostly timber products.
We carry on though, riding across the top of the range looking over the flat strip of built up coastal real estate to Coopers favourite town Maleny. To be specific, the Collin James Cafe sell a home made ice cream rendered from the local jersey cows that rivals any that I have tasted, and whilst I sipped a cappuccino Cooper eagerly indulged in the tasty treat. This town is packed most weekends with bikers interspersed with people enjoying the variety of interesting clothes shops and organic stalls lining the main street. Several years ago there was much controversy when Woolworth's built a supermarket over the Obi Obi creek, the home to local platypus, a blip in the landscape of this hippy town, priding itself on its alternative lifestyle.
Outside, I take some time to reflect on the large maple trees on the high end of the street. The cooler mountain air has begun to turn the broad leaves a golden brown, still too early to have dropped they hung on the trees like ornaments, shading the streets in the hot summer days now past.
Leaving Maleny, we headed out along the western ridge now looking over the rolling hills and green county side we enter into with relish.

Colin James - A must stop in Maleny

The next 50km to Kenilworth runs through little country towns such as Connondale and winds gently through the stunning green country across small wooden bridges and ambling brooks and creeks. With leathered speedsters whizzing past we take our time, savouring the beauty of the landscape matched only by the pleasure of passing through on the rumbling of our Harley Davidson Road King.
The final leg back to Noosa leads past parks and bed and breakfast cottages to the left  contrasted by cross country heaven evidenced by the number of trail bike trailers parked at the base of the range leading back up to Mapleton on top. We cruise back, following the Mary river along the valley through Eumundi, quiet today without the markets open.
As we pull up into the driveway I am thrilled by the completeness of the ride and the senses fulfilled in the four odd hours we have been travelling. Surely if ever there was a perfect ride we just rode it!!

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.

Adelaide to Melbourne via Great Ocean Road

Adelaide to Melbourne

It is said that to repeat a procedure a second time is much more efficient than the first because most of the learning has already been done. So it proved to be with this, the return trip after Cooper and I trailed the path from Melbourne to Adelaide during the Easter break earlier in the year.

 Adelaide

30th August – McLaren Vale

Standing on the front door of spring, it was time to raise my motorbike out of its winter hibernation where it had quietly sat at my patient friend Joanna’s house in Adelaide and begin its 3000km journey home to QLD. 

As Eva, Joanna and Elson socialized in the living room I unburdened the bike from its covers and riding gear I had left to dry after my Kangaroo Island experience in early June. To my delight the battery eagerly glowed in all the right places and the beautiful, shiny 1600cc engine sprung to life at its first beaconing. After the usual checks were completed I joined the team for a scrumptious dinner, relishing the opportunity to catch up with dear friends who I usually only get the chance to speak to over the phone.

September 1st – Spring! 

8.00am

As the bulk of commuters headed off to work, we headed into Adelaide with a different agenda.  First stop was breakfast at the  East Terrace Continental (ETC) overlooking the Botanical Gardens.  To prepare ourselves for the 400km ahead we took a walk through Rundle mall and checked out the limestone museum, churches and university that helps make the city the enchanting environment it is.

Following the coast 

Soon enough we found ourselves following the coast down the Fleurieu Peninsular past Glenelg and  Brighton out to the gem of the region McLaren Vale.

McLaren Vale 

The whole region is littered with some of Australia’s best and most renowned vinyards. Mclaren Vale, known specifically for its fine reds and dinning is harder to eat and drink your way through town than it is to walk it! Having satisfied our palettes and sent several boxes of wine to the Sunshine Coast we continued our march east to Victor Harbor.

Victor Harbor

Passing over Mount Compass we wound our way into Victor Harbor for some lunch and a stretch of the legs before heading off to Goolwa. Goolwa sits on the Moyne river and for me is best remembered as the location for the movie Storm Boy, a classic book penned by Colin Thiele which made a big impact on me as a youngster. With the sun making better time across the horizon than us we left the pretty town all to quickly to cross the long stretch of salt land to Kingston, our coastal overnight stop.

On the way over Cooper and I had headed inland on the advice of the touring guides who described the stretch as boring and uneventful. As we raced the sun the salt land had filled with water leaving the Coorong alive with the sounds and antics of the birds on the water turned red from the reflections of the setting sun.

Friday 2nd September – Kingston -  Port Fairy

Having traveled the better part of 500km the day before and still trying to thaw out from the cold overnight air we were a little stiff as we climbed aboard for our second day contemplating  another long run over the border and into the Victorian town of Port Fairy

Robe

Robe should have been a short run from Kingston and the tensions (and sore bottoms) were exposed when I took a route that added another 50km. Having stopped for petrol Eva walked into town to get some feeling back into her posterior giving me a head start on coffee and breakfast! A beautiful town with more to offer than Kingston we reluctantly saddled up and took the scenic route through to beautiful Beachport, the blue lake of Mt Gambier, Neilson and Portland, racing the setting sun into Port Fairy.

Saturday 3rd September –

Port Fairy - Apollo Bay  

Satisfied with a huge steak at the Caledonian Hotel where we stayed and a fitful night sleep it was time to get up and watch the pretty town come to life as the sun heated up the limestone buildings framed in their manicured gardens.At the Hub we conveniently found space on the 

couch by the log fire discussing with the locals the AFL football results and how warm it was with the sun coming out!  The Harbor is a picture of tranquility and serenity lined with boats tied to the wharf straddling to the houses taking advantage of the vista. All too soon it was time to head off to Warnambool, the self proclaimed Capital of the Great Ocean Road!

We brunched at Simons at the local surf club overlooking the bay. We were on lookout for Southern Great Whales but alas none were forthcoming this particular morning.

The Great Ocean Road   

After 900 odd kilometers of relatively unbroken road we wound off the rolling paddocks of cows and farmland into the precipice where the sheer limestone rock rises dramatically out from the unrelenting water creating ever changing sculptures in the rock formations around this spectacular coastline.

Bay of Islands/Martyrs 

Here we were on and off the bike every 300m or so as different vantage points gave different perspectives. The last structure is the London bridge which is still impressive despite having half of its top collapsing into the sea in the early nineties. 

12 Apostles 

The most famous collection of formations on the coastline, there are now only eight remaining but never the less are a major tourist drawcard for good reason.

Loch Ard Gorge.

Named after the schooner that was dashed on the rocks here in a horrible storm in 1878. The ship sailing from England with a crew of 36 was predominately carrying the Carmichael family of 18 to stay with their sick father. With the ship  stuck firmly on Mutton bird Island the few life jackets available were handed out to passengers leaving the crew to fend for themselves. Unfortunately it didn’t help them much and all but 18yr old Eva Carmichael perished, desperately clinging to parts of the ship as it broke up. The fate of the crew was no better with 35 crew doing the honorable thing and going down with the ship. As young Eva drifted between the rock formations  Tom, a young seamen who had miraculously washed onto the small beach saw her plight and swam out and pulled her ashore before scaling the cliff to find help!

 Today, with a light offshore breeze and no swell, it was hard to look past the sheer beauty mother nature had offered us.

Port Campbell

Smack in the middle of the cliffs there is a little oasis called Port Campbell. From seemingly nowhere  man has included a swell prone jetty and surf club  on a beautiful lawn overlooked by a hotel and a variety of cafes and take away outlets. 

Apollo Bay 

Despite having only travelled less than 150km in the day we were seriously running out of sunlight again so we bypassed Cape Ottaway (see easter ride story) and made our way through the State forest and Great Ottaway National Park to Apollo Bay  

Apollo Bay - Queenscliffe 

Seaview Motel.

Set back from the main strip we stayed at the Seaview Motel. I mention them specifically because on both trips they gave us generous rates to their lovely units and more importantly allowed me to park the bike in their garage leaving me a remote key for private access. As both times we had overnight rain it was very much appreciated. Both Tracey and Luke were very accommodating and  friendly to our cause.

A gem of a ride!

 Having donned the wet weather gear with some light rain on departure we enjoyed a sparkling and magic ride as the road hugged the coast. North of Apollo bay the limestone and its characteristics are left behind and replaced with rolling green hills and valleys jutting out in a more random manor into the ocean. The coast from here is known as the Surf Coast with Torquay being the pinnacle as the birthplace for surf companies such as Rip Curl and Billabong. 

Lorne 

 The 45kms from Apollo Bay to Lorne is never more than a stones throw from the ocean and as we ducked and weaved around the headlands and inlets the road slowly dried out leaving us with a spectacular view of the scenery ahead and out to sea. All too quickly we found ourselves at the seaside town of Lorne and warming seats  at the the bathers pavilion right on the water sipping white wine with our fathers day meal listening to french music softly filling the air! Life surely doesn’t get much better than this!

Monday – Mornington Peninsular 

Ferry Ride across the Bay

After  an enjoyable and soothing ferry ride across Port Phillip  Bay from Queenscliffe to Sorrento I was stunned  by the beauty of this eastern side of the peninsular. With its obvious wealth and prosperity it enjoys a majestic view over a waterway which today was bathed in sun and crystal clear water lapping onto its sandy beaches.

Melbourne Revealed 

I have never quite got melbourne. Sydney has the familiarity of home, Brisbane is built around a lovely waterway breaking up its intensity. Adelaide is small and beautiful with its wide, tree lined streets and Perth has a nice ambience to it. I have always wanted to like the capital of Victoria, but I have never felt like I understood it. As we cruised out to Portsea and looked at the spectacular coastline north it was almost matched by the architecture of the mansions sharing the view and the impressive variations of protection from the road and public. Not as much a fronting  as interesting and austere.

The final run 

As we covered the last 80kms into Melbourne we followed the coastal path taking us up through Rye, Rosebud, Dromana, and Mornington. The whole coast was a glut of beauty with its seaside towns backing onto the bay with the famous beach sheds nestled into the tops of the beach lines. I have only ever heard of them so I had a much better appreciation of them and how their owners might come down for a day at the beach already having their toys and necessities waiting for them. AS the traffic slowly built up and the number of traffic lights indicated how close we were to our destination we met up with friends Axi and Farzard back where it all began for me at Easter- the West Beach Bathers Pavilion for some lunch 

on the deck soaking up the sun on this spectacular Melbourne day. All to soon I left Eva,Axi and Farzard  for the storage shed at Tullamarine, a short ride from the airport . Having tucked my bike away it was time to fly home and start preparing for the next part of the adventure. 10 days travelling the 2000km from Melbourne to Brisbane following the legendary NSW  south coast before traversing the great dividing range through to home!

 If anyone has any comments or enquiries about the trip or would like some advice in organising their own adventure here please feel free to drop me an e mail at 

d_shippo@yahoo.com.au

David

Kangaroo Island Ride

Sunrise - Kingscote

"Life is a journey, not a destination". Everyone knows this cliche right?  Because it is so true we try and abide by the sentiment and balance some time amongst our work, family, long and medium goals to smell the roses along the way. Sometimes however, life has a way of taking the statement and slapping you in the face with it!

In my case it was my trip to Kangaroo Island, 160km's south of Adelaide and at the foot of the Fleurieu Peninsular. The Island itself, at 150km x 60kms is the third largest island in Australia behind Tasmania and Melville Island off Darwin in the North. With my bike being stored in Adelaide and the opportunity to attend a work conference I stayed for the weekend and planned my trip to the Island famous for its New Zealand Fur Seals and Australian Sea lions, the Admirals Arch and Remarkables rock formation, a smaller scale version of Ullaru.

With my work commitments completed I headed off expecting a leisurely jaunt south. What I got was so much more. Adelaide is surrounded by hills and the road quickly left the suburbs behind and gently undulated through grazing land leading toward the coast. The roads are wide and smooth and the the bends sweeping with the hills gently giving a glimpse of ocean before angling back into  the valley's only to reappear closer to the deep blue ocean.  I marvel at Australian town names and its so cool to travel through towns such as Myponga and Yankallila! Before you reach the coast the trip has another little surprise in the form of Mclaren Vale, a town renowned for its world class wine.

Meandering through the hills

Myponga Reserve Wall

After Mclaren Vale the road leads back to the coast and hugs the coast, escorted in with pine trees lining the sandy shore on one side and the hilly, grazing land on the other through to Point Jervis and the jump off point  to Kangaroo Island. After checking in I had some time to appreciate how nice the trip had been and was still buzzing at its beauty. Whilst checking in I was greeted (again) by super friendly staff who had been admiring my bike and commenting on the QLD numbefr plates produced more maps and tips of magestic rides in the area. Sitting down pouring over them a biker on the next table sat down and reitterated what I had just been told and my natural enthusiasm went into overdrive as Ray, a retired 70yr old local showed me his favourite rides around the whole peninsular. Suddenly I couldnt wait to get back and continue exploring! 

At the ferry

Soon enough the Ferry arrived and a easy passage was made on a glassy ocean basking in the fading sun. The ride from Penneshaw, the ferry,s landing spot to Kingscote where I was staying is around 60km in length and as the sun set over the water (unusual for us East coasters) I didnt have time to check for the green flash as the sun touches the horizon for I was was on high Kangaroo allert. Like most animals their favourite time to graze is sunrise and sunset and knowing their unpredictability I certainly didnt want this adventure to be ended prematurely by a twitchy kangaroo.

Saturday morning broke calm and clear. Looking out my window at first I thought I was seeing the reflection of the radiator burning in my room, but my heart leapt when I saw it was the clouds over the wharf not my heater creating the spectacle outside! In a flash I was chrging across the road to the park to witness a most beautiful sunrise. The local seals seemed to be more intigued by me and leisurly swam around my vantage point even lifting themselves out of the water to get a better look. The look was completed by a cocking of the neck accetuating their large brown eyes and thick whiskers.
Keen to make the most of the day I braved the morning chill for breakfast at Pardana, the settlement in the centre of the island. Typical of this places not much was open and the local pub everyone recommended was not open but looked like a spot much more suited to a couter lunch or dinner so I filled up with a big serve of bacon and eggs at the bakery just down the road.
I had left early as I was keen to get to the commercial sites before the tourist buss's arrived and so by 10 I was at the Flinders Chase National Park. Home to the Admirals Arch and Remarkable Rocks. After paying my entrance fee I left taking on several Cape Barren Goose birds making me think of my own Cape Barren Goose "Wild Goose" swinging happily on her mooring back in QLD.

Cape Barren Goose

The 15km ride to Admirals Arch was windy and fun and before I new it the closed in brush made way for a windy and exposed cliff face with its small hardened scrubs and rocky outcrops being hammered by the powerful swell rolling in from the southern ocean. As if by design, areas of smooth rock paved its way up from the depths making an ideal landing point for the seals littering the foreshore. Also adorning the point was an obligotary lighthouse now fully automated behind the timeless structure

Arriving at Penneshaw

Cape Du Coedic

Admirals Arch

Leaving Admiral Arch I headed down the road to the Remarkables, a unique rock structure formed by molten rock slowly cooling under pressure to leave hard granite that over millions of years surfaced to form these maginificent structures. This was the same process in forming as Ularoo, and although no where near as large remains an interesting and bold structure. The rocks themselves are topped off with a covering of Lichen which give a red tinge like a natural color co ordinator finishing off a ornamental feature!
In trying to get involved in some photography here I came unstuck when my new camera and stand were picked up by a large puff of wind and smashed it against the rocks!

Road leading out to the Remarkables

The Remarkables

My next stop was appropriately named Seal Bay and it was fun to watch these curious animals surf in the clear ocean, rest on the beach and follow playful cubs wrestling on the beach.

I returned early enough to miss the sunset animal peak hour and settled into an early nights sleep after pizza. As a gale blew up with rain squalls blown in by the ferocious wind I rested in peaceful ignorance!

There was no doubt about my clothing for the sunday ride back to the ferry. Everything warm I had under my wet weather gear! I was pleased to be sitting on a 350kg bike and not on a sporty featherweight as the strong gusts of wind buffetted through the trees lining the path back.

Having seen Kingscote I was keen to explore Penneshaw so I thought I would breakfast there. Unfortunately, nothing was open and I was only saved by the friendly lady at the bottleshop who moved some chairs and a table inside and kindly allowed me to eat my pie and drink in the shelter of the bottle shop! Hardly a classy act but I was hungry enough not to care.

My ferry ride back was the opposite of the one over not just in direction. Sitting waiting to enter the ferry I was covered not only in rain but spray from the waves breaking on the rockwall giving some respite for the ferry. Having secured the bike in the hold and taking my seat upstairs we headed off and as the catamaran ferry punched its way into the considerable swell that had developed it wasnt long before most of the passengers were reaching for the sick bags provided. 

Conditions on the mainland were no better and as I wound my way back I found some sadistic pleasure in the wind and fog and rain, simply enjoying the fact I was on an adventure and had been lucky enough to witness so many great and beautiful things over the past weekend. I decided to put the suggested routes on hold for a better day head straight back to Adelaide, a warm shower and a plane home where the sun shines and it is considerably warmer!

Meandering through the hills