Maldon with Rosy

In the humid sunshine on a blue motorcycle, that was yesterday, stretching out in a late Spring day. I went riding with my good friend Rosy. Sunlit swarms of white butterflies exploded into us, mixed with the scent of wattle as we gently banked left and right on empty roads from Daylesford to Maldon.

That journey constitutes one of my favourite stretches: through Hepburn Springs, Shepherds Flat, Newstead. The W650 rode it like a gentleman, a Rolls Royce, confidently negotiating every turn and rise, accelerating rapidly when needed but with a lightness, a confident cool. The twin purred, and never was there any angst in the engine, any feeling that one ought to hurry. The W never screams or yells. Throughout the entire rev range the bike is relaxed.  It invites me to take pleasure in its pulsing engine and to give attention to the world I am passing through. The W wants to be a beautiful motor cycle in a beautiful world.


At Maldon Rosy and I ascended Mount Tarrengower and climbed its tower.

Looking over the town.


Looking South.


North-west.


West.


North.


West, overlooking Cairn Curran.


From the tower I took some photos of the bikes and of Rosy.









300 kilometers of simple motorcycling, coffee and talk.