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Raindrops keep fallin' on my head

Discussion in 'Roads, Touring, Journeys, and Travel' at netrider.net.au started by hornet, Feb 22, 2009.

  1. After a busy week at work and some problems with a broken helmet (not from an accident) I yesterday morning realised that I hadn't ridden the bike for over a week. "Shock", I hear some of you 'everyday' riders say; "Hand back your license and your membership of Netrider this instant!!"

    So, let's go for a ride, right?

    err, no. Yesterday's weather on the eastern side of the mountains (Wollongong, to the north and the south) was lousy. I don't mind riding if I'm caught in the rain, but I don't set out in the rain unless I have no choice. So, Sunday might be better, right?

    5:45 am. No sound of rain on the roof. Peep outside, no sign of recent rain on the ground. Woo-hoo, into the gear, quick plate of cereal, onto the bike (tank's still full from when I finished riding last) and off into the wild gloomy yonder.

    The latest BIKE magazine has an article about having a day off and going riding, no particular purpose or destination. So, let's do that. Vague plan, (only plan) is to head north and perhaps visit a couple of friends in Newcastle.

    6:30 we're away. I've never seen Sydney's roads with so little traffic, not even during the Olympics. In less time than it takes to think about it I'm at Rydalmere and heading for Hornsby, although the skies are starting to look like the mother-in-law when I last forgot her birthday :evil:. By the time I hit Mt Colah (obviously aiming for the OPH), it's darker than it was when I left Wollongong over an hour earlier, and starting to spit with rain. A couple of kays further on spitting turns to lots of drops, closely grouped. Time to change plan.

    South to Mt Colah again and a quick right onto the road to Galston; let's try and do Wiseman's Ferry. Quick stop to ring Mrs Hornet and let her know I'm still upright, and down the fabulous Galston Gorge, slimy and unpredictable. (Is there any other road in Australia that has 3 corners signposted at just 5 kph???)



    Right onto the road to Wiseman's Ferry and the grumpy weather has either chased me, or it's in a direct east-west alignment on exactly the same latitude, because by just north of Glenorie, it's not going to get any better and pushing on hoping for improvement is, to paraphrase the late Jack Gibson, "Like leaving the porch light on for Harold Holt". OK, south again, and let's head across to Windsor, and try the bottom end of the Putty.

    And, you guessed it, at Windsor it starts to rain again.

    So the option is to go south to Penrith and up through Mulgoa, Silverdale and across the saddle of the ridge to Picton; I know when I'm beaten :LOL:. Quick trip through to TFRPS (The Famous Robertson Pie Shop) for a coffee and home by 12:30.

    365 kms of riding, no photographs (too lazy, and anyway most of you know the places I went) and once again proving the point that even an average half a day's riding beats the heck out of no riding at all. You've just got to avoid those raindrops.....
     
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  2. you may send the rain down here. its better than riding in smoke. :(
     
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  3. I know exactly what you mean; Ash Wednesday was a long time ago, but the memory of it is fresh :(.
     
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  4. Its stories like this that make me smile. People who will get out there and have a go even if it looks grim.

    Last Friday I got caught in one mother of a storm. I actually quite enjoy riding in the rain, but come on, 250mm in 1 hour is a bit much if you ask me!

    Still, I persisted, much to the disbelief of some fellow co workers when I arrived, and I was still smiling.

    I really took the plunge the next day, I figured, thats about as heavy as rain can logically get, so I sold the car. Now I ride or I don't get paid.

    Nice story.
     
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  5. A long time ago it seems, I did a ride up Reefton starting out in a slight mist, which morphed into a full-on downpour up in the range. That is a ride I will never forget, teeth chattering cold along with the wet and the road as slimy as diesel. Wrestle the trumpy through the hairpins, sliding all over the place. Didn't see another bike 'til Marysville.
    Those were the days... in more ways than one.
     
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