Long Ride 2016 - Days 11 & 12

April 18 & 19, 2016

Perth, WA to Kalgoorlie, WA - 637km (5,117km)

Day 11 of the Long Ride was essentially a lay day, a chance to go over the bikes and ensure they were ready for the next stage of the journey.

 

Chains were checked and lubricated, tensions adjusted.  Brakes were checked, as were tyres for wear and condition.  Spokes checked and rims too, one was found to have three flat spots in it, probably due to hitting rocks a little too hard - not much can be done it will have to do.

 

Filters and fluids were also checked, in all the BMW F800GS's were holding up well.  With the piece of mind of the bikes being in good condition, the contingencies for the next stage were planned, especially of the rain would keep up the way it was at the moment.

 

Checking the bike over on the rest day

Two nights staying with Ali, Brian and kids was a great way to recuperate and very much appreciated, but it was soon time to get back on the bike and start heading east.

 

Day 12 started with a very definite threat of rain, so the wet weather gear was on, and would stay on for the entire day ... I sweat so much I think I lost a few kilograms.

 

The route would see a direct path to Kalgoorlie, along the Great Eastern Highway, it's pretty much the only way to the gold mining town from Perth.

 

The first stop was at Cunderdin around 160km away from Perth.  At first it didn't look much more than a roadhouse, but a pretty good roadhouse it was.  Fuel was reasonably priced and the food was good, great coffee and the biggest grapes I have ever seen, they tasted great.

 

Dougie's Roadhouse

The place was called Dougie's, and while we were the only customers, they were very obliging.  The young guy operating the register was from India and had a joke that his family were all over Australia, we just had to find them.  Lovely bloke.

 

The bike were refuelled so it was time to get going again, we had a lot of distance to cover and hopefully before the rains arrived, they'd been threatening even more in the past half hour or so.

 

Leaving Dougie's Roadhouse we thought we had seen the entire town however, around the next bend was a whole town and quite an impressive one, especially when we saw an Ettamogah Pub.  This is the third one that opened after Albury and the Sunshine Coast.  It was quite a funny thing to see in the middle of nowhere although, unlike that cartoon it wasn't just in the middle of a paddock.  I wish we'd had enough time to stop and have a look at it.

 

We rode on for another 100km before stopping at Merredin and another roadhouse to fuel a few of the other bikes and stretch the legs.  We'd been following the path of a giant water pipe for the entire distance from Perth and it was at Merredin that we realised that it was to provide water to Kalgoorlie and the Goldfields. 

 

Merredin is said to be named after something the local Aborigines in the 1800's were saying, but to this day no-one really knows for sure what it refers to.  The town was essentially established during the Western Australian gold rush of the 1890, and in many ways still survives because of that.

 

While this whole area is where it is because of the goldfields the landscape itself was nothing like what I thought it would be.  It was primarily wheat growing fields, not the scrubby semi arid bush that I thought it would be, we just seemed to be continuing through farmland after farmland.

 

The Palace, Southern Cross, selling for less than a fifth of its
value.

Southern Cross, sounded like to was some made up name for a place that was created as a roadhouse and nothing else, it couldn't be further from the truth, it was a place with a lot of history and some magnificent old buildings, especially the pub (The Palace Hotel) where we stopped to have lunch.

 

It was a grand old lady, and obviously had had a lot of time and effort spent on it.  The place was actually for sale and we were told that the land and building had been valued at $6.9million yet it was for sale for just $1.5million.  it seemed like a bargain, but I couldn't see there being too much patronage, Southern Cross is actually quite small and the passing traffic would mostly be that, just passing.

 

While refuelling at Southern Cross, tensions started to boil over a little, for no apparent

reason they just did, perhaps we were all spending too much time together.

 

We got on the road and were soon followed by four Australian Defence Force riders on large capacity adventure bikes, no doubt none of these had ever seen any dirt and probably never would.  They caught up to us doing around 1300kph and quickly passed, only to slow down to just below the speed we were doing.  What the hell were thee dickheads doing?  Not long after they pulled off the road, it was all a little dangerous.

 

They soon caught us again and then did exactly the same thing,, pulled in front of us and then slowed.  I was starting to get a little angry and when I relate this to something that I had had confirmed during the Long Ride proper, it just pissed me off even more.

 

I'd been told that the ADF personnel and civilians that support them are able to do the Long Ride at the expense of the tax payer.  The ride is considered to be adventure training.  WTF?  None of them do anything adventurous except ride theirs bikes while the rest of us have to pay for it themselves.  And this is at the same time that the Australian government is considering increasing taxes.  I wouldn't mind so much of these guys donated their time and a little effort to raising awareness of men's health but to them it's a paid holiday at the tax payers expense.

 

By now I was stewing on this knowledge and a little shitty but what happened next was the trigger for me to let loose.

 

Memorial to the Boorabbin bushfire

We'd stopped at a roadside stop, near the Boorabbin National Park, here was a small memorial to three truck drivers who had died in a bushfire in 2007.  All three had been caught in their trucks and had perished.  I walked off into the scrub to find the memorial and reflect on a friend of mine who had died in the Linton (Victoria) bushfire in 1998, almost 8 years to the day earlier than these three truckies.

 

While sitting there I heard the sound of a bike approaching, the only way it could be coming was down the walkway towards the memorial, it was one of our riders and I was furious.  How could someone be so insensitive and selfish?  I asked that very question and was told that it wasn't important, it wasn't like it was a grave.  Red rag to a bull comes to mind.

 

It's fare to say that I lost my shit and told the rider to fuck off before I fucked him off.  Words were exchanged and for a while it looked like friendships would be lost, thankfully it blew over very quickly and all was repaired, but I do still standby my reason for being furious.

 

View from the best pub accommodation I have ever seen.

Ninety minutes later we were at Kalgoorlie and checking into one of the best pubs I have ever stayed at, The Palace Hotel, yes another one.

 

Across the road was one of Kalgoorlie's famous 'scimpy' bars, and after a few ice cold pints the days stresses were soon forgotten.  Tomorrow we'd have a good look around this gold mining town.