I know I’m still a newbie only having had my learners since February, but although I ride almost daily I hadn’t yet taken ‘that ride’. You know the one. That ride, that solid grind through amazing scenery and twisty after twisty. Most of my rides are shortish blats of up to an hour’s range of home. That was until yesterday. Having an opportunity to stay at Port Campbell I hit the road through Gisborne, Bacchus Marsh and down to the first ‘Great Ocean Road’ ramp and I rode my heart out. Not enough stops saw the tail end of the trip get a bit sloppy when fatigue set in and I made two newbie errors. One, I was cold and tired and had lost feeling in my feet which saw me stomp it down into first in a hairpin and lose the back end briefly. Two, I came in a bit hot on a bend and pulled the clutch in, fixated on the embankment and though ‘I should be doing something right now’, before having the presence of mind to push that right bar and lean. I had a great night’s sleep. The next day, I threw my plans for the inland ride home out the window and I hit it again backwards. I took more stops, and ended up having to ride home with my leather pants undone owing to the unbearable bruising they were giving my hips where the side pocket zips are inserted. Exactly 649 kms in two days of sheer riding heaven, far too much time talking to other riders on stops, some pain in the shoulders from the back pack and bruised hips, but still grinning like an idiot. In short, I have nothing to declare. Except the ride of my life so far. Oh, and much smaller chicken strips.