See you on the road...

"It wasn't, I thought with a rueful smirk, meant to be this way.  Not just the rain that was belting down as I sheltered beneath the verandah of the Malmsbury Bakery and watched it welcome my "new" bike in a forlorn and yet shimmering film of droplets.  Not even the summer-glove induced frigid hands that were slowly - and with an element of discomfort - thawing out as they clutched a hot pie and a coffee.  No.  If we wound the clock back a few hours, I wasn't meant to be here at all.  Certainly not in this location.

Technically, this was my third ride on my "new-to-me" V85TT.  The first had been a 10 minute test ride at the dealership.  A ride cut short, ironically, by the arrival of rain.  A few weeks - and much seesawing deliberation - later, the 2nd ride had brought the bike home from the dealership.  And there it sat for several work days.  So when it looked like a morning had opened up for a short third ride, I took the opportunity.  I left home in Melbournes outer east intending to do a run out through Ringwood and Warrandyte, perhaps cut across to Research and loop back through Eltham. See how the bike really feels, home again in an hour or so.  I had things to do.

Somehow, somewhere, that plan went out the window.  I think it was the run across the Warrandyte-Research road that did it.  The V85 seemed reluctant to go home, and who was I to argue with a new mistress?  So, well, we didn't. We experimented with a fast section of the western ring road, negotiated some crappy traffic on Cooper St to get out through Somerton, and found ourselves on the lovely road that swoops and winds through the gorges at Wildwood.  With, mercifully, few cars for company.  This route , after stopping for a photo or two, will bring you out near Clarkefield, and in a flash of inspiration i wondered if the lovely old pub would be open for a beverage and a chance to oggle the new transportation device.   Alas, no.  A sign proclaimed that it was closed for renovation, and so oggling of said bike was the only activity on offer.  Which i did do, briefly, whilst I considered my next move.  I looked to the north west, where Mount Macedon loomed and hid some old favourite locations beyond it.  I looked at my watch, and balanced it's dial against some commitments later in the day.  I looked at the V85.   She won.  Again.  It'd be fine, I had enough just enough time to visit old haunts at Kyneton and the area, and get back to Melbourne to attend an appointment.  Right? Hmmm. 

The run north from Clarkfield is unremarkable but i was aiming for Lancefield and taking the road through Cobaw to Carlsruhe.  This is a quick, typical country road that is often closed in by large trees and minimal run-off.  Keep your concentration, please.  It's also the road that made me realise three things.  Firstly, I was running too much preload , and perhaps not enough rebound, on the rear shock. On a deteriorating surface, several impacts brought protesting signals from the kidney's and lower back.  Secondly, despite these minor complaints, I had clearly become very very confident in the V85's handling without realising it.  Speeds climbed and whilst the steering on paper isn't exactly sports-bike swift, it flowed effortlessly from turn-in to turn-in and tracked a rock solid line whilst leant over.  The induction and (still stock) muffler roar ain't half bad above 4000 rpm either, just between you and me.  Thirdly, and less happily, it had started to rain. Not heavily, just enough to make one look with suspicion at the rainbow streaks and tiny rivulets emerging on the bitumen. Accompanied by a falling temperature gauge. 

Take a right hand turn at Carlsruhe -to avoid the new Calder - and instead use the old road past the De Graves Mill to come in the back way to Kyneton.  There are plenty of lovely places to stop at in Kyneton, particularly on the northern exit path along Piper St , should that take your fancy.  It feels like near on everything up this way is constructed of bluestone and the buildings have a charm to them, even on a rainy autumn day.  Still paying some consideration to the clock, I pushed on, a short stint on the Calder taking us to both Malmsbury, and into the teeth of a sudden downpour.  Which brings us, after much waffling, back to the opening of this little account.  

I was a couple of hours from home, more than a little damp, not exactly equipped for the elements - which showed no apparent inclination of doing me any favours - and supposed to attend an appointment a few hours hence.  How on earth had i been lured into this?  And why was I so patently happy that I had been !? The answer to both questions was a few meters away, hissing and tinking as the cylinder heads cooled down under their watery cloaks.

The run home was an unremarkable tale of bedraggled drudgery on the highway, notable only for the fact that cruise control is an unexpectedly useful device on a motorcycle. Fortunately, the rain cleared once south of Macedon.  Less fortunately, the Tulla Freeway and pretty much all the other roads were their usual traffic entangled shambles. Even on the V85, it was a pain to deal with. Not without fun though.  Surf this thing on it's torque wave and it fairly flies along in urban settings.  Comfortable too.

At one stage, I pulled over to make a phone call , offer apologies and push back the appointment. Back to dicing with the traffic again. Home. Belatedly.  Left the bike in the driveway, rushed inside, quick change of clothes, in the car and off to the appointment.  Slightly breathless, I walked in precisely 34 minutes late

An hour later , the light nearly gone, i was home again and eyeing off the Guzzi as I put her away in the garage.  She was filthy, road grime covering the formerly ornate eagle on the alternator cover, streaks of dark smears on the blue and white tank.  Nearly 300 kilometres covered on various roads, in all conditions.  Nothing about the day had gone as expected. And I loved it.   Methinks we've made a great start.

See you on the road.

- Jason.