Marty H Sunday ride (November 2)

DSCF0157With the coast dry as it gets, the local forests are dry and dusty, the perfect time to hit Kilpotae Road. A notorious slippery, dark, goat track that clings to a narrow undulating ridgetop. Covered in deep mulch with a few scattered rocks, it is one of the best tracks anywhere.

The dusty conditions meant we didn’t really spread the word, ending with a tight group of Craig, Trev, Mean Dean, Phil, Pottsy and, last but not least, Mal. Even if he was on a Yamaha.

We started out through Sunny Corner and climbed into the crisp, cool air along the ridgetops. Middle Ridge actually had some water in its creek and its narrow, leafy trail gave some respite from the dust.

Bellbucka Road had just been graded and the thick dust forced us to spread out to breathe…well, the guys, anyway. Up front it was glorious. The long, narrow ridges of Kelly’s Trail never fail to put a smile on your dial, popping out through farmland.

Swap and drop

DSCF0152Feeling guilty in dust-free bliss I handed over to Phill and I had a turn at sweep. Gaddis Trail didn’t feel the same with dry river crossings, but the trail was still tight and leafy.

There had been a lot of bike swapping going on,  and rounding a corner I found Trev with Pottsy’s bike’s front wheel hanging over a cliff. Pottsy jumping in to help soon had the bike back on the trail before I could get the camera out, despite pleas to leave it dangling.

I never thought it would happen to me.

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I’ve often heard about these invite-only rides where riders throw their keys into a basket, but I never thought it would happen to me. In fact, other riders would sneak off in little groups and sample each other wares discreetly; every now and then someone would pass partnered up with a different bike. But when I would mention something people would nervously scrape their boots in the dirt and change the subject, or claim their bike wasn’t into ‘rough’ riding when it clearly was with other riders.

Trev almost throwing Pottsy’s bike off a cliff meant Pottsy nervously asked if I wanted a ‘ride’ on his bike. Before he could think about what he’d said I jumped on and roosted off, sweeping be dammed. I had nice, long legs to play with.

Even though our bikes are related, Pottsy’s bike straight away impressed with her lively, revvy personality, seeming to egg me on. All I could hear in my head was, “Faster! Harder!” until I came around a corner to a huge erosion mound.

“Feel my legs,” she urged as we launched of into the air. So smooth and long, these legs seemed to go on forever and the plush, smooth feel had me excited. Unfortunately our alone time was shattered by a regroup, forcing skid marks as we stopped right in the middle of the group.

Pottsy, sensing my excitement, quickly took his bike back, but the Mister Sheen and cleaning rag he quickly wiped his bike down with was probably a bit much, and as I got closer he pretended to clean his visor.

What hill?

DSCF0156With Gibbo and Mean Dean claiming, “What hill?” last time they were through, sending the Dualsport Australia website comments section into hyperdrive, anyone who’d struggled through here in the wet (or walked out) seemed to take offence at the boys’ easy-peasy comments.

I cunningly put Mean Dean in the lead through there, claiming the ride was his idea and giving him a dust-free turn. In reality it was to see which way he went. His comments had me doubting he knew where the hill was, but he turned onto the right road and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Trev and I rode side-by-side and with no puddles to splash him I had to settle for a roost-mulch contest. The dark, undulating trail was bliss, as we dropped down the rainforest closed in and our lights became visible. What goes down soon turned a right angle and skipped up over some exposed rock and up the hill. Easy, dry clay is much better than wet that’s for sure.

ON FIRE

DSCF0163I finally caught Mean Dean when he stopped and regrouped. While debating about going down Sheet Of Bark Trail A firetruck appeared and told us everything was on fire ahead, making the decision easy.

While I thought this road joined up to Hickeys Creek, I missed the turn and the wrong-road feeling grew. But if worst came to worst we got a better lunch, so I pushed on. Sure enough, we ended up one valley short of my planned destination, but nice and close to the Pub With No Beer.

Milliseconds later I roosted off towards the pub with ice cold drinks and large burgers. The added benefit of the unplanned shortcut was that we were early, so a leisurely lunch with a couple of drinks was enjoyed in the shade.

Goats and Ladders.

After a relaxing lunch we played a game of Goats And Ladders. It’s like Snakes And Ladders. You roost along going up, up the ladder before slithering down Billy Goat Road to Gearbox Creek (a place that still makes Suzuki and Vince shiver), a short gravel-road transport following creeks before a sneaky narrow ridge singletrack finished the ride on a high,

Phill broke early to rush home for the footy, but missed us so much he came in behind us at the servo after a little extra exploring before we all split up and headed home.

It was a great ride. Thanks for coming.

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