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Hi everyone, I know I’m a bit slow off the mark so it should come as no surprise that my contribution to the trip report is a week overdue! I’ve included a couple of days of exploration prior to the RideADV event so forgive me if the addition of my solo adventures is not what you signed up for!
I’d managed to score 10 days leave so I headed to Jindabyne solo and early on Monday the 28th of April. I trailered my bike behind the Cruiser so I’d have half a chance of returning to Maitland in the event that I binned the bike or injured myself. Fortunately, both bike and I returned unscathed, but it took the pressure off mollycoddling the bike and, for a trip so far from home, I felt a little more at ease.
It also meant that I could load up the Cruiser with enough camping gear to spend the first three nights camping in relative comfort. I followed the Alpine Way through Jindabyne to Tom Groggin where I crossed the river to set up camp on the Victorian side of the border. There’s a huge campground on the NSW side of the crossing (NPWS fees apply) or you can cross the river and camp for free at either Dogman’s Hut or Buckwong Creek Camping area. Limited facilities at all of these campsites but since there are no fees in Victoria, I took the cheaper option. (I know TB!!!! Tight-arse KLR riders!!!)
The Murray River crossing is a rock based ford which is always wet and the entry and exit can at times be very chopped up. It can become impassable after heavy rain, or as the snow melts, and is really only suited to high clearance four wheel drives and/ or riders with experience in resuscitating a drowned bike. Buckwong Creek can catch the unwary too and as I arrived at the campground there were a couple of young blokes loading a very wet bike onto a recovery ute for the long trip home.
A handful of High Country tracks are closed from May to Dec to ensure they don’t get too flogged out and so I only had two days to explore a couple of cracker tracks that I figured would be out of play for the RideADV event. With rain forecast for Wednesday I decided to tackle the potentially harder Mt Pinnibar on Tuesday leaving me with the ‘relatively easy’ Davies Plain run on Wednesday.
There are at least two ways to get to Mt Pinnibar. If you’re TB on a fully loaded Tenere you take the masochistic way up the Mount Pinnibar Track. This track is steep. Loose and steep, rocky and steep, and then it gets ridiculously steep. Don’t attempt this on a big bike unless you are fit, very capable and just a little bit stupid. On my map we noted that the first 3km was a very steep 12 minute climb… and that was on four wheels in the Landcruiser. It is “technically” the shortest way to Mt Pinnibar, but it’s not for the feint hearted and certainly not for a solo big bike rider.
If you head up Tom Groggin Track as I did, you skirt the western side of Tom Groggin Station. At the Mt Pinnibar turn off, wave to TB, wish him all the best, and continue straight ahead along Tom Groggin Track. It’s steepish in parts and a little loose but otherwise a good road up to the top of the spur. Follow Tom Groggin Track past Anderson Track and turn right onto Buenba Road. Turn right again onto Mt Gibbo Track which becomes Mt Anderson Track and then finally left onto Mt Pinnibar Track. There are signposts marking Mount Gibbo, Mount Anderson and finally a trig point and a great view from Mt Pinnibar… unless it’s so damn foggy you can’t see more than 15 metres in front of you. Bugger!
From the summit I took Shady Creek Upper Track, Wheeler’s Creek Track, right onto Buenba Log Rd, left onto Buenba Rd, then left onto the well graded Tom Groggin Track back to camp. I hadn’t had much saddle time on my bike in the lead up to RideADV so this was a good day to blow out the cobwebs and get back in the groove.
Back at camp that night, enjoying a warm fire and a quiet beer, I read Tom Foster’s Editorial in the latest Adventure Rider Magazine and it struck a chord. He writes… ‘There’s something truly edgy and addictive about riding solo….As the time and distance roll away under his wheels, the solo rider leaves help, comfort and safety further and further behind, and more and more backs himself to cope and survive.’
With Foster’s tribute to ADVENTURE resonating in my soul, the following day was meant to be a bit of a toddle along Davies Plains Track plus a side trip down Kings Plain Track and a quick loop via Macarthy’s Track to the Poplars Campground. However, the rain fell steady for much of the night and I awoke to a sad and soggy camp. There were other campers not far from me who had driven Davies Plain Track last night and they told of slipping and sliding their way down to camp in their four wheel drives long before the rain had set in.
‘Surely it couldn’t be as gnarly as Mt Pinnibar’ I mused as I packed the tail bag with the days essentials. I ride what is essentially a stock 08 KLR650. I bought it from a 70 year old gentleman from Tamworth who should look away if he is reading this right now. Black and red, it was in pristine condition when I bought it, 20,000kms, but not a scratch or a hiccup to sour its image. Within a week I had given it severe gravel rash on both sides, bent the handlebars in such a way that initially required brute force followed by a comically unorthodox riding technique, and had broken a clutch lever and ‘redesigned’ the shift lever. The road oriented tyres were the nail in the coffin that saw me over the handlebars and flat on my back wondering if sewing quilts might have been a better hobby.
The gravel rash is now partly hidden beneath Motech crash bars, Dunlop 606’s give me a bit more bite, an alloy bashplate promises a little sump protection and a suspension upgrade thanks to Teknik makes my Gumby riding moves appear almost intentional!!!
The track from my camp at Buckwong Creek to Davies Plain Hut is less than 15 kilometres. However, much of this track is a steady climb rising from about 600m near Buckwong to 1700m along Davies Plain ridge. After the rain it resembled a slippery clay rollercoaster that was hell bent on preventing me from reaching Davies Plain Hut. I’ll admit that my upward success had a lot more to do with good tyres and sheer luck than rider skill, but eventually my luck ran out. On a snotty hill in the middle of nowhere both the bike and I lay sprawled on the ground enjoying the “freedom of solo adventure”!
Ever noticed how youtube clips demonstrating “how to pick up a big bike” are conveniently staged on a flat surface. No-one ever falls over on a flat surface!!!! I don’t!!!! Well… not usually. So I find myself alone, on a clay ramp that I can barely stand up on, the bike is laying downhill in such a way that it creates its own mini fuel fountain flowing freely from the keyhole in the fuel cap. I want to pick it up quickly. Really, I do, but I do a quick mental calculation. Bike weight is 187kg dry + 20L of fuel + tools + tubes + spares + tail bag + water + munchies = a depressingly heavy bike for my current predicament!
Riding solo may be ‘truly edgy and addictive’ Tom, but by the time I had pushed and pulled and grunted and groaned and finally heaved the bike upright I was ready to go cold turkey and book into rehab! I’d shed more layers than I knew I was wearing and with the bike now facing downhill, I had the slide to the bottom and ‘attempt number two’ to look forward to. After skidding my way down to a good spot, I walked up the hill to catch my breath and do a little trail grooming. Trail grooming is a technical term describing the process of walking a tricky section of track and realising there are many more obstacles lying in wait than you had ever envisaged at first glance. Boosted by this reality, I moved a couple of the largest rocks and dragged what was left of my ego back to the bike.
What followed was a masterful display of technique and bravado (feel free to interpret that statement in any way you’d like!) and by the time Davies Plain Hut came into view I felt like I had conquered the world! The truth is, if I had dropped the bike a second time on that particular hill I’m not sure I’d have had the strength to heave it back up again. Anything more than a handful of spills a day on a big bike and I would rather walk home.
My original plan was to return to camp via the same track but I was beginning to question whether slithering all the way back down again was a percentage move. In the end the weather tipped the scales as I rode through rain and fog, followed by sleet and finally snow. The track up on the plain was awash and in the end I decided to detour via Buckwong Track and then Mount Hope Rd/ Tom Groggin Track back to camp. Kings Plain Track and Macarthy’s will just have to wait until next time.
In fairness to Tom Foster, he continued in his editorial to outline the advantages of riding with a group of mates. How the simple addition of a helping hand to right a heavy bike can be the difference between a memorable story and an exhausting marathon. Add to that the collective wisdom and experience of a group to diagnose bike issues and the safety net available if someone is injured or lost. In the following three days I was to experience those advantages and loved the whole RideADV experience. But there’s definitely something ‘edgy and addictive about riding solo’.
By Thursday night, 50 or so bikes and riders had gathered in Jindabyne to hear TB’s briefing and to have our GPS’s loaded with tracks. This was my first RideADV event and although I knew no-one, the group was really friendly and we were keen for a great weekend. Friday promised the pick of the weather so the ‘special’ option was well subscribed.
I was paired up at the briefing with Anthony from Nowra and we’d agreed to meet at 7 the next morning. However, Anthony’s bike was having trouble getting out of bed in the frost and it took a little encouragement to get it to fire. We settled into an easy rhythm down the Barry’s Way and I was pretty happy to end up in the bushes only one and a half times. (If no-one sees it, I’m prepared to call it a half!) Teapot Creek Track was the highlight of the day and we all rolled into Omeo in one piece to fuel up and settle into the pub.
With the accommodation at the pub pretty full that night we had a ring-in called Frank, (a travelling salesman) bunk in with us and he was extremely lucky to survive the night. His snoring peeled wallpaper and even with ear plugs it was doing my head in! There’s a reason why some homicides involve complete strangers and by 3am we were searching for a blunt instrument and a shovel.
Saturday’s special was to include a run out to Blue Rag but the weather forecast was for snow down to 1200m. Even if we survived the steep and narrow ride, the view would have been 360 degrees of thick fog. So on TB’s advice we headed for Dinner Plain for a coffee and then followed the High Plains Road down to Dargo. As we went past the Blue Rag turn off I breathed heavily on the inside of my visor and imagined I was enjoying the ‘view’ from Blue Rag. All but ran myself off the road, but I think I nailed the experience.
Fuelled up in Swifts Creek and then a short blast into the Little River Inn at Ensay. Can’t say enough about how good the Little River Inn was. The food was awesome and the beer cold enough to make a slushy. The bunkhouse promised more of the snore, but compared to Frank, these contenders were only amateurs. Anthony elected to sleep in his tent this night. Frank had left him a weary man.
Today I came to the realisation that I have been riding alone. I don’t mean without friends. I mean without a fellow rider who shares the joy of my trusty steed. As I surveyed the line up at Dinner Plain there were all manner of bikes who shared a common bond; Teneres, BMWs, Yamahas, Suzukis, KTMs, and so on. Surely amongst 50 bikes there must be another KLR? But no…it’s official. I’m riding a unicorn.
By Sunday morning we were well fed and well rested but there were subtle signs of agitation. Not of mutiny, just unspent energy. It was a bit like an ADD convention minus the Ritalin and so when Chicken made the announcement that the ‘special’ for the day was a swamp it was like waving a red rag in front of a bunch of Old Bulls. Game on. Maybe if Chicken had been on sweep duties that day he’d have tried to sound more convincing.
Off we went to tame the ‘special’ and we were so glad that we did. Fabs from Melbourne joined Anthony and I and we had an absolute ball. The first third was a mixture of clay and rock that lulled us all into a false sense of ‘special’ and we were starting to wonder about the basis of TB’s warning. Then we crossed the line and Fabs and I did our rendition of a synchronised slip and slide as we rode our backsides down a filthy clay hill. From the footprints and tracks we could tell that we were definitely not the only ones to fall victim to this descent. Regaining our composure we rode 300 metres to the base of an equally snotty uphill with no sign of a ‘chicken track’. No option but to try to climb one hill or the other!
Another bloke was rolling his Tenere down the hill for a second go having lost his chain on the first attempt. I had a crack at the climb only to fall off half way up and had to turn my unicorn around in the custard. Meanwhile, Anthony and Fabs both idled past me to the top of the hill just to rub it in. Bastards! Back at the bottom I’d given the Tenere a healthy head start before having a second crack at the hill. Second gear, a few more revs, jump the woop-de-doo whilst turning right, then bugger me, if that bloody Tenere isn’t laying across the track. Somehow I stayed on through the ruts and clay with both legs swinging wildly with only a can-can soundtrack missing from my special dance. With all hands on deck we manhandled the Tenere and my bike to the very top and I quietly thanked the Lord that today I wasn’t riding solo.
The rest of the ride featured lots more clay and I watched the Tenere in front of me go lock to lock down one particular hill. I have no idea how he stayed on. Although we’d had a ball, I was knackered and just a little relieved when we finally turned onto the tar and rolled into Buchan. The sweeps were to spend 3 hours getting the last of the riders through that snotty section and when we saw Moose later he assured us that he’d sleep well that night.
Fabs had always wanted to have a peek at MacKillops Bridge and so we let the sweeps know that we were detouring on our way back to Jindabyne. The ride down to the river is narrow but in good condition and we were blown away by the view and the river below. Back on track we watched Chicken orchestrate the piggy-back trailer arrangement needed when a wheel bearing failed on one of the trailers. We then rode into Jindabyne on sub tank and fumes to complete what had been a great day and overall a fantastic ride.
Anthony and Fabs were great blokes to ride with and on Monday I guided Fabs via Tom Groggin to a shortcut to Omeo. I do most of my riding alone back home, probably because I ride a unicorn, but it was such a great experience to ride with these guys and the group as a whole. Hats off to TB and the rest of the crew who did pre rides, sweeping duties, and drove support vehicles. For me, it was money well spent.
If you’ve never done something like this before and are contemplating the next RideADV trip, my suggestion is to get on board. They’ll even let you bring your unicorn!!!
Cheers, DaveThanks to Anthony who took most of these photos!
Sounds like you had a ball Polly! Much of the high country is overrun with fourbies at Easter time but I don’t blame them at all. Have been along Davies and up to Mt Pinninar in a Cruiser a few times but not on a bike before. Just plan to poke around and try not to damage myself or the bike before the weekend.
