Solo Single Touring Part 2 - The Alpine Road
Yesterday I travelled a mere 372 kilometres, but I was tired enough and slept like a log. I was awoken by the lovely sounds of CHAINSAWS hacking through something at about 7AM. Had a shower and ate a good brekky, then loaded up and went to find petrol. At the petrol station I met a man from the National Parks & Wildlife service, and told him where I intended to go. He said "mate I would not do that on a motorbike", but when I asked him as to why not he wouldn't explain it! Oh well. I filled up and then set off in pretty fair weather for a place called Nowa Nowa, where the plan was to take a weeny small road over towards Bruthen, and from there strike north into "the soft underbelly" of the Alps.
Everything went fine until I got to Nowa Nowa, I was humming along enjoying myself, and then just out of Nowa Nowa there were road works. At the first one I missed a big step and though I had damaged the bike when the forks bottomed out. I cursed myself then as it was sheer inattention that had done it. Luckily she was not damaged, but the next hour or so of riding was not fun, interrupted by road works every 10 kms, and much dirt riding. An SRX600 might have a dirtbike engine, but it also has semi clip-ons. Head down arse up is not good on the dirt. Finally got to Bruthen, a bit hot and bothered, and then turned north.
And this is where the riding gets really good The roads slowly rise up of the next hour or so, and get more and more challenging. The traffic is quite light, the roads are well surfaced and all is right with the world. A passing farmers ute throws up a stone big enough to knock my foot clean off the footpeg, and later I examine the boot and it has cut through the leather to reveal the steel toecap underneath. Glad I am wearing BHP steelworkers boots! At one point the road goes along a small canyon following the Tambo River, and I am conducting a piece for two instruments, 1986 SRX600 (with race pipe) and canyon. Playing the throttle for the fun of it, 4200 rpm is just nice for a bit of my kind of beat music.
I am now on the excellently named "Great Alpine Road". Through Swifts Creek and Tongio (no horse towns - maybe mule towns if they are lucky!) and most of the hills are now about 1000m above sea level around me. It's a bit cooler. The great riding continues until I pull into Omeo for a stretch and a bit of lunch. It's a place that is small, cosy, and surrounded by rolling hills a bit like the Peak District (the High Peak) but this being Australia, it is a bit drier than the Peaks. Over lunch I look at the map and see I want the "squiggly" road to the west of Omeo. Squiggle is good by me. I imagine one of those Colorado mountain towns looks a bit like this...Compared to where I live there are many timber clad houses, they look great. At the cafe I try to perfect my "world weary bike tourer" poses trying out as many as 5 in 20 minutes - none of them work. These country girls ain't biting today. Being short doesn't help either! But I'm happy anyway, free man, free to do what a wanna do.....(60s time warp effect).
The road of squiggle is very good - heading towards Mt Hotham (1861m) on the Great Alpine Road. On the way I pass through Dinner plain and up the Slippery Pinch towards Hotham. When I get to Mt Hotham village the far views are magnificent and the close views disappointing. The good bits first; from the general store you can see absolutely for miles and miles across to Mt Feathertop, Mt Tabletop and Mount Freezeout. You wouldn't want to mess with those guys in bad weather. I have a bit of a headache so I get some water and some pills, take them and have a rest just breathing in that mountain air. If you can't be near the ocean, the next best thing is to be high. The sun is blinding (not helping my headache). Up close the ski resort of Mt Hotham in summer does not look so good. There is a dirty messy air about it, almost like an abandoned settlement, which in summer it practically is. Back down the road I had just come on was Dinner Plain, which is just a village, not a resort, and it looked neat, tidy and almost Scandinavian. You can buy houses in Dinner Plain, freehold; you can't do that at Hotham, so maybe that’s why it's so messy. Nobody really owns it.....
After an hour the headache is easing and I get back on the bike for the run down to Harrietville then to Bright where I will be staying the night. As it's summer the roads have been resurfaced on the steep switchback decent into the Ovens Valley so it's tip-toe all the way over the loose gravel, nothing much to stop me going over the edge. Then finally in the valley and the run to Bright along the valley - high mountains all around.
Turn up the youth hostel at Bright and book a bed. Then I fall into a long conversation with the girl behind the counter about university. She is studying for her first degree (correspondence) and I have just finished my post-graduate stuff so I give her a few tips, well the best ones I know and she seems happy with that. I then ask what is there to do in Bright at night so she asks what would I like to do? "Not sure, what have you got"" I say. So she rings up friends who own a restaurant cafe and jazz club and they get me a table at the club for dinner and a night of guitar, piano, sax and bass jazz. How nice is she?? I have a shower and get changed into my cool going out gear of pink & yellow surfers t-shirt, and blue jeans. Go and have a GREAT meal (cream and steak were involved, and pepper..) then listen to some cool jazz until time to go home. It's been a really bloody good day, and even the snoring of the guy in the bunk above me can't stop me falling asleep with a smile on my face...
To be continued.....
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