Echucan Escapade
by Gary
This ride report was originally published in the October 2009 issue of the Motorcycle Tourers club magazine, ‘Chain Lube’.
After leading two Sunday rides this was my first attempt at an organised weekend away. Most of it went well, and to plan. Some of it did not. More on that later in this report.
John M and I rode down from Castlemaine and met up at South Yarra with Adam H, Adam M, Brett, Darren B, David W, Justin S, Keegan, Max, Phil, Rolf, Ross K, Tzup and newcomer Evan. Fifteen machines started the ride – and, thankfully, finished it!
With the aim of escaping to the sun in the least possible time we rode the usual freeways past the Airport to regroup at Bulla, then headed due north through Romsey and Lancefield. After a short stop outside the Tooborac Fire Station we turned onto the Northern Highway for Heathcote and morning tea at Elmore. From the local Bakery we waved to David P, Michael VD and John H as they choo-chooed past in V-Line’s ‘Not Very Fast’ train.
On to Echuca and the Nirebo Motel, located on the edge of the town’s Old River Port. After settling in we all met up for lunch at the Murray Provender Cafe. We were then joined by the three pikers – excuse me, the Honeymooners and Chaperone – plus my Michael, who had driven up in his mid-life crisis – a new Fiat 500.
A walk along the river to gaze at houseboats, paddle steamers, quirky shops and local talent (there was a truck show in town! Woo Hoo!) was followed by a couple of hours of relaxation in the motel for some. David W, Max and Tzup went for a short ride. The pool and spa beckoned seductively to others.
At 6.00pm we did a short 30-minute stroll to meet Brett’s folks who had organised a BBQ dinner for the group and made us feel very welcome in their home. Chris and Rod turned out an amazing and high quality spread of food that certainly satisfied all tastes. Well done folks; we all enjoyed your company, and that of Buddy the one-eyed spaniel. And at that low cover charge, we will come back anytime! The party was noisy but refined and broke up at a civilized 11.30pm, with Chris performing “Mum’s Taxi” relays to get most of us back unmolested to the motel.
Some of our Bright Young Things then sleazed off to check out Echuca’s night spots (yes, BOTH places!) while the more mature, somewhat jaded and world-weary ones (aka the old farts) were happy to kick back in the rooms.
After breakfast at the bakery across the road we said TTFN to John H, who was returning to town by the aforementioned train. Also farewelled were David and Michael, who were staying on in Echuca to continue the rest of ther second honeymoon. My Michael left for Castlemaine and Adam M, Darren, Keegan and Tzup departed on their direct ride home.
The rest of us did a long anti-clockwise loop along the B400 to the east and north, then west to stop in tiny Barmah – which, according to the excellent HEMA Motorcycle Atlas, possesses the only Victorian pub that lies north of the Murray River. At this point I convinced the group that we had now seen all that was worth seeing from a motorcyclist’s perspective; the Murray Valley’s road layout is mostly flat, straight and damned dull (check the atlas) and becomes more godforsaken with every kilometre west. A bit like Australia in general.
We crossed the Murray into NSW, cruising quietly along in order to give Justin enough time to set up his photo shoot. Thus we were overtaken by a very noisy Harley – is there any other kind – whose ‘screaming eagle’ mufflers spooked an otherwise peacefully grazing roo. This poor moronic animal (the roo, not the rider) then tried hard to join us, causing some interesting evasive actions. Mind you, I was unaware of all this mayhem, operating in my usual state of blissful ignorance. We then caught up to the offending biker and forced him to lead the Ride as far as Echuca – and we all know how much the average Hog rider enjoys the company of other brands don’t we?
After regrouping some of us donned wet weather gear (not needed, as things turned out – wonder how much rain the splinter group got?) and rode south again through Rochester and Elmore.
It was now that my plans went more than just a tad ‘down the dunny’. My intention had been to return via lovely deserted back roads through Axe Creek, lunch at Redesdale Pub, then to Kyneton, Tylden and Woodend but I had badly miscalculated both fuel consumption and availability. So rather than risk the group running out of fuel I decided to head straight down the boring old Calder to Bendigo. Evan had wisely refuelled at Elmore, and I should have had the group do likewise. A bad call on my part, and my sincere apologies to all who had to subsequently endure a road that I normally avoid even in a bloody CAR!!!
In my defence, all I can say is that it would be slightly irritating if one bike were to run dry, but it can happen; were that bike to belong to the Ride Leader the situation would become both ironic and ludicrous; were the Ride Leader to force all the bikes to run dry it would become both unforgettable and unforgiveable!
We lunched at the Windermere Hotel in Kangaroo Flat and then immediately took to the delightfully scenic and twisty back roads behind Bendigo through Mandurang, Sedgwick, Harcourt and Faraday, regrouping at the newly-opened junction at Elphinstone. I hope that section was some compensation for the previous one!
Here we lost Justin to a presumably very fast blast down the freeway, while John M wafted off home through the sunlit woods and fairy dells to Musk. The rest of us (Adam H, Brett, David, Evan, Max, Phil, Rolf, Ross et moi) headed for the Woodend Bakery for a final Coffee ‘n Cakey before calling it a day.
Guys, my thanks to you all for your support. The main Ride covered about 600 kms for the weekend and I hope you enjoyed most of them. As organiser I learned a lot of lessons from this tour, not the least of which is to avoid the trap of having too many options built into the plan. On behalf of all of us, special thanks to Brett and his folks.
Last, my thanks to Ross and John M for not allowing their competitive lust for Tail Riding to degenerate into an unsightly, unseemly and unladylike Scrag Fight.
Ride Photos:
