By request, I thought I might relate what happened a year ago when I first attempted the Omeo Highway in full. I didn't take pictures, at least not any that the innocent would like published. Here y'go. I won’t say I saw it coming. I certainly didn’t eyeball the root cause (more about that later) but neither can I recall a point at which I though “Oh shit, it’s going down”. It was just too graceful and smooth a movement, like slo-mo footage of a tall building being demolished, or the ponderous, manoeuvres of a vast ocean liner. There was just the slow dawning realization that the vast weight was going too far over. Gravity was going to win against the vectored forces delivered by internal combustion. The great vessel touched gently down, sleek left side meeting the cruel bitumen in a kiss. And then he was rolling, and then sliding. Not too far and not too fast, but long enough for me to think to myself, “well, it’s over now. No getting this one back on track.” I think I was mentally blocking off the panic reaction about what might be happening in front of my eyes. I braked hard, but I ended up stopped well short of the end of the slide, and had to throttle up to it. By the time I found my sidestand and put it down my hands were shaking. Prayer of thanks - I could see he was moving underneath his bike. I also didn’t see that happen. Initially he was away from the bike – how did he end up under it again? I’m fussing and flapping with gloves and shouting “Are you OK?” inside my helmet. Voice doesn’t come out properly. It’s all choked up and strangled. Now I can see he’s thrashing, trying to lift the bugger. I run closer and again ask if he’s ok. “Get it off! The pipe is burning me!” Adrenalin lifts the great bulk away remarkably easily and he’s out in a flash. But he doesn’t get up. The panic starts to come back, and I vaguely note we are in the middle of the road with blind corners ahead and behind. I start asking the questions but I can’t hear the answers until I remember to hit his kill switch. Pain? Numbness? what can you see? Check check check. Wiggle your hands and toes. Check. Neck or back pain? Chest? Breathing? So far so good. He’s winded but he sits up carefully and we go through the list again, while I keep glancing up the road and listening. At length he struggles to his feet and get over to the side of the road. Now there is time to go through the damage in more detail. Something is wrong with the bone joining right thumb to wrist but that seems to be the biggest issue. We decide to do something about the bike while we’re still full of go juice, and 300kg+ comes up with surprising ease. Assessment reveals relatively little damage but with all the left side controls gone, there will be no more riding it today. So it’s time to sit down and make a plan. I’m watching him and he is not going grey so I don’t think we will have to deal with shock. But we are 30 kilometres from Mitta behind us, and much more to the next town. A farmer slows down but doesn’t stop. Too late I realize I should have forced him to. He could get the casualty back to town much more easily than me. There’s no possibility of pillioning (impossible weight distribution). That’s a bad mistake. At length, I decide we need help. I instruct him to flag down anyone that comes past and beg for a ride, while I go back and get help in case no-one comes. As things turn out, no-one does come past in the next hour, this hot Sunday morning.