Yesterday I rode across the Moolort Plains east of Maryborough. It was the first day of winter, which is as good a riding season as any if you seek out its special beauty. On this day I rolled along single lane sealed roads amidst paddocks and hills of grass, and here and there bluestone cottages. At one point the road took me north along the waters of Cairn Curran, and then on to Eddington and Eddie's Garage: a surf rock cafe in the paddocks. From there I wanted to pass through Donully but not on the tarmac, so I found a zig zag of farm roads which took me south, then west, then north, by flowing creeks, a deer farm, and old mud brick settlers' homes.
Today I felt greedy to ride again, so I repeated that initial route, but then explored farm and forest roads from Betley down to Bowenvale. The clouds broke apart but remained, to create a stunning oil painting bathed in winter light.
I finished the ride by exploring the Black Jacks Track between Bowenvale and Maryborough.
I'm starting to pick up the pace on the dirt, and want to focus on such roads for upcoming touring. When these tyres need changing I'll go for dual-sport options, and I've ordered some barkbusters to protect the levers in a drop. I must say, however, that as with my other bikes in the past, for example that Hornet 600, standard road tyres do a fine job on farm and forest roads. Many days during the week I have been testing that theory out for an hour in between clients, in the various forests surrounding Maryborough on all sides. Of course, in my grandparents' youth most roads were dirt, and people traversed them on a daily basis with what we now call "road" motorcycles with "road" tyres, which in our minds means the bikes are unsuitable for the dirt. They rode motorcycles which were a lot like this CB250. A part of what I am loving about this bike is not only its frugality, simplicity, and reliability, but also that same do-anything spirit.
When recently I decided to ride again, I had
this trip strong in my memory. There was something metaphysical, essential--of the essence of things--about that ride. On that five day tour through the Wimmera and Mallee fifteen years ago, my always reliable GR650 developed problems and could not cruise over 80kph. What terrible timing, why do that to me now? And yet it became one of my favourite rides, perhaps partly due to the increased emotion of anxiety which can make things feel more alive--I had very little money, and expected my motorcycle to break down hundreds of kilometers from home--but in large part it was due to the reduced speed, and the way the landscape was experienced at that slower pace. I learned a strong lesson which I have never forgotten. I was forced on to back roads, to change my route and discover new things. More importantly, I discovered a world of 60-80kph which is of a whole other order to the pace of the cyclist, or the rush of the modern motorcyclist. This is the world which is unfolding for me on this billiant, but in today's terms low-powered and slow CB250. There were moments today when I rounded a corner, skipping over the gravel while passing a flowing creek or facing an avenue of 1920s pines, and the sun flashed, and I let out an involuntary exclamation of joy.
I could not bring the ride to an end, so the last hour or two were spend riding forest and farm roads south of Maryborough. It's so good to be on a bike again, and this is Nighthawk is such a simple, reliable, pleasurable choice.
More to come....
