XY, i have ridden around woods point area back in my “early riding” days. i will get back there one day too. i must say its where i met the first hill i couldnt conquer. i reckon it might just be the same hill your talking about. it is steep, rocky, it seems to go on for ever and the last 30 odd metres are “steps”. it is just a prick.
heres the story.
i went up to woods point with 3 mates somewhere around 1999. (i only started ridin in ’98). there was me on my TT350, chooky on his near new ktm250-2T, gazza on a new wr400 and lozza on his trusty old xr400. as i said, i was still learning (and i still am now!) and was doin my best to keep up with these blokes. rounding a corner with full opposite lock at speed i found a 10 metre boghole, shit myself, highsided it and skipped across the water like id just come off a ski-biscuit. i was rooted…..and mildly concussed. but not to be beaten. i kept goin.
i caught up to the fellas a couple of minutes later at the bottom of this hill. chooky went first and the bastard made it, even if he was off the bike running next to it for the last bit. i had a crack next and managed to get all the way up to the “steps”, but binned it and watched my bike tumble back down the hill. gazza went next and did the same thing as me. only he nearly cried watching his new WR tumble. lozza had a go and made it look easy. reaching the top in one go. me and gazza tried another half a dozen times to no avail. my head was thumping by now from my earlier dance across the boghole, and gaz, bein a little bloke with a big bike was just plain rooted. we gave up.
lozza, who was near 50yo back then, and has had most of his heart replaced with new valves from various animals, walked down the hill and jumped on my TT and rode it up, kissing the front guard most of the way, like it was a molehill!!!
then he walked down the hill again and rode the WR up too. no dramas.
to add some salt to my wounds, he reckoned the TT was the easiest to ride up on. go figure…crazy old fool.
gazza and i took about half an hour to walk/stagger/crawl to the top.
when we got there we found an old FJ40 V8 cruiser sitting precariously. on its dashboard sat its front tailshaft, twisted like a bon-bon. there was a note saying…ill be back next week sitting next to it.
i felt a bit better knowing that the hill that nearly killed me also killed the cruiser!!
we rode back to camp “the easy way” as we were all rooted.
the next day was pissing down so bad that the tracks were rivers. lozza in all his wisdon decided we should all go 4wding. we all agreed out of boredom and piled into his spanking new jacked up, big tyred hilux. he went straight back to “the hill” to give it a go. it was like climbin a waterfall.
with some heavy reefin on the wheel we made it up as far as the steps and started to climb them. the front end bounced of one and i swear for a moment we were sitting nearly vertical, teetering on the towbar. we started bouncing back down the hill…backwards. somehow the car turned around while bouncing and we stopped at the bottom of the hill in one piece. gazza, who was in the front was upsidedown in his seat, feet hanging out the window, and me and chooky had swapped positions in the back seat. we still dont know how that happened..LOL. so we cruised back to woods point and got pissed. it was one of the scariest moments of my life. i still have the odd nightmare of it to this day.
anyway, there is some wicked riding around there, just watch out for old mine shafts. and 4WDs. and deer hunters. (some of those rednecks will shoot in your general direction cause they dont like riders scaring off their deer).
i reckon i could conquer that hill now. one day i will.
the town itself is a kooky place. the pub is wicked. the publican, Don, is a crackup, not sure if hes still there, but he sings a mean version of Danny Boy when hes pissed. when the pub shuts, he locks everyone in and keeps drinkin!!
the local postie rode a sic XR600 with an extended swingarm. it looked like a widowmaker bike. he reckoned it was a neccesity for delivering the mail around there. he was a crazy f*cker.
we stayed in a little shack between the tennis court and the river. owned by a mate of a mate of a mate.
the gaffneys creek pub was a top place too. ride up to the door, walk in covered in mud, and have a beer with some 7 foot tall lumberjacks, while standing in front of the fire, steaming yourself dry. grouse!!
unfortunately the pub burnt down a couple of years ago in the fires.
to be honest, its probably some of the best and hardest riding in victoria.
i have faith in ya XY, why couldnt a 640 get around there.
i would get some new tyres before you go though. you will need them.
if there is a spare spot, i might beg to come too, just to beat that f**cking hill for once and for all.
menace.
