As you probably know, Sydney threw up two spectacular days over the weekend, but Saturday was busy with stuff. So Sunday beckoned. Up with the birdies, kit on and head North; no particular plan, just find as many twisty roads as I can and enjoy them. So... Start with Macquarie Pass (natch), clear and clean at just a bit after 6:00am, and no traffic, bottom to top. Good start. In the middle of Robertson there's a road that turns off and head through the wonderfully-named town of Kangaloon, (the butt of many local jokes, believe me). It's narrow and twisty and particularly unpredictable, but it beats riding all the way on straight roads almost to Moss Vale to get across to Mittagong and the Old Hume Highway. It's also a lot smoother than Tourist Road, which on a good day resembles a goat track, and would be a lousy start to a long day's riding. Kangaloon Road brings you out just South of Bowral, and just a bit further North from that junction is the start of Old South Road. This road starts out as a feeder road for the southern suburbs of Bowral, and later of Mittagong and then disappears off into the bush for a while before joining up with the Old Hume Highway up near Yerinbool and meandering through to Picton. And just as you're entering Picton from the South a road turns left, and screams up the hill till it reaches the very top of the escarpment, where you turn right and onto the road to The Oaks. If you haven't ridden this road, you should. It passes through Silverdale and eventually heads through Mulgoa and brings you back down to earth just near the M4 junction, South of Penrith. I'm sure there are better roads around, but for kilometre after kilometre, it's like riding on top of the world. A short brawl through very light traffic (thanks to all the drinkers of Penrith ) and I had turned right and joined up with the Northern Road just South of the LLandilo turnoff, on the North side of Penrith. And, of course, it's only a short transport stage then to Wilberforce, for fuel and quick conversation with the locals; (looking at my bike, "They won't bother you, mate, but there are a couple of Highway Patrol cars just up the road..". ) I forewent protesting that my bike was really a sports bike without the fairing, smiled gratefully and embarked on my umpteenth run on my old favourite, The Putty Road. Well, the gendarmes did not make an appearance, and the only traffic was other bikes, many of them progressing at a greater velocity than I was; (maybe the bloke at the servo was right ). By the time I reached Bulga, after an unspectacular but enjoyable sprint through the Ten Mile, the day was getting hotter by the minute, and the plan had firmed up; fuel, coffee and head for home via the same route. As I was filling up a voice yelled out , "Hey, Paul!" I looked across at the group of riders gathered at the other pumps and spotted my old mate Snapey. "Where are you going??" "Rylstone" "What for?", "Lunch, and then I guess we'll head home." I bade them godspeed and retraced my steps. Once again the road was kind, and only one bimbling car briefly interrupted another run through the Ten Mile. But I wasn't so lucky at the Putty (yes, there is such a place) turnoff section. This time the cuplrit was a drone in a Subaru Forrester. He drove the corners like he was afraid he was going to drive off the edge of the earth, but then as soon as the road straightened up he got a dose of the brave pills, and was less than impressed with my passing him. I thought no more of it but then on a long up-hill dual-lane section a few kays on, this wannabe tried to pass me going up hill!!! Needless to say he was still behind me when he pulled off into a service station on the top of Colo many kilometres later. I was a bit disappointed because I was going to sprint down the Colo and wait for him at the bottom . The rest of the trip provided plenty of opportunity to enjoy the command of the road that any bike, even a little 600, allows. You know what I mean . And then, as if to say, "You can't have it all your own way, smarty!", less than five kays from home I ran into a torrential downpour and arrived home looking and feeling like a drowned rat. But I was still smiling. 641 Kms, six and thre quarter hours all up, including stops.