PI 08 (long)

So Clem's Trumpy had crapped itself and the whole PI trip seemed in doubt
until Super-Leon the Ducati-killer came to the rescue with his old XJ750
(Boxer's spiffy BMW was deemed far too good for Clem - Clem's judgement
call, by the way!)

The XJ, sporting a cunningly fashioned luggage rack manufactured by Clem,
the Wizard of the Hose-Clamp, arrived at Chez Betty on Wednesday evening,
along with Clem and Leon. A boozy night was had by all (Betty's feeble
attempt to detract attention from the fact that the dead vacuum cleaner
refused to pick up cat-fluff and the non-existent lawn-mower was doing a
great job of not mowing any weeds.)

Thursday was a HUGE day (ok, not as huge as Clem and Leon's 900km day the
day before, but close). Our destination was Leo's place in Victoria. It was
all going really well till about Jindabyne. A bunch of boy-racers did
despicable overtaking-us-in-our-own-lane stuff, which was a bit unnerving,
and it was pretty windy as well. More problematic was the XJ's fuel
starvation "issue" (fark, a bike with Issues..... aaaaaaaaargh!)

Those really steep twisty unfamiliar roads on the Alpine Way are not my idea
of fun (yes yes, betty is afraid of heights - laugh now and then move on,
ok?) so when Clem disappeared from my mirrors I thought he probably just had
the shits about being stuck behind me as I crawled in terror along those
downhill twisties, and had taken a little rest to calm down. When he didn't
reappear I kept flashing Leon (in the nicest possible way) to alert him to
the fact that Clem had disappeared. Eventually he went back to look for Clem
while I waited at the Geehi rest stop.

Clem flew past me some time later, yelling something like "I have a
problem!" <snigger>

So I followed... and when I caught up to Clem, he had stopped again by the
roadside, about 20kms before Khancoban. When I pulled up to see what was
wrong I did a typical effing Betty thing and the bloody bike fell over. On
me.

So there I lay by the side of the road, 20kms from Khancoban... middle of
effing nowhere... pinned beneath my fully-laden bike... Clem 100m back,
waiting for some fuel to start moving through the XJ so he could come and
rescue me. Meanwhile I waved politely, muttering to myself "So, is anybody
going to fucking help get this bike off me anytime this weekend?"

Leon doubled back, and before long, the three Stooges (I mean, the three
Musketeers) were ready to go again - Clem with a fuel-starved XJ, me with no
effing gear-shifter, and Leon without a Ducati to knock over.

It takes a long time to do 20kms in first gear...

Surveying the damage at the servo in Khancoban, I remember Clem's Hose-Clamp
wizardry, and wonder whether he can work some similar magic with yet another
hose-clamp. He does!!! and we actually arrive at Leo's in pitch darkness,
after a snack in Wodonga, many horrible u-turns, and a lovely ride down the
fabled Black Spur in failing light.

Friday dawns sunny and clear, and the Hose Clamp Wizard performs surgery on
the Bomber (my SV). The gear-shifter he creates looks like a bought one...
and we eventually head for the Island.

50kms from our destination, a purplish pall of nasty weather looms - ah, the
legendary Phillip Island weather strikes again - and by the time we arrive
at Rockit's, it's looking grim.

And it gets worse. Much worse. Do we care, though? Of course not! Off we go
to the track - on the XJ, against my better judgement ;-) The wind does howl
and the rain does piddle, but we watch some racing until the Supersports
race is canned due to shitty weather. End of day 1...

Boozy boozy night - and Saturday's weather is beautiful! So beautiful in
fact, that I am roasted and toasted and superbly scarlet by afternoon. AND -
I've had one of the best days of my entire life! At PI 07 I was a very timid
betty, but this year I was more sociable. After finding our fab Siberia
seats (the best seats in the house, by the way - well done Clem!) I went
walkies. I caught up with Mike the ex-neighbour (and we had a few shouts at
the beer tent), Mike the mechanic (who gave me his Pit-Walk Pass) and the
lovely Smack & Co, (that includes martyh) who were doing a beer lap of the
track. I ended up walking around the circuit TWICE on Saturday, and feeling
a little "tired and emotional", ha ha, by the end of it!

Another boozy night on Saturday....god, my liver.......

Could barely walk on Sunday (sore feet, nothing to do with the liver!), so
planted myself in the Grandstand after missing the bloody pit-walk (fancy
scheduling a pit-walk for 7.55am on the first day of daylight saving!) The
rest is history - what a fabulous day - great weather, great racing, great
company - and Casey did it again! Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

It was weird on Sunday arv to say goodbye to Clem and Leon, and I was so
bloody tired that I was in my sleeping bag by 8.30 and asleep by 8.35, I
reckon!

Monday's cold change didn't disappoint - it was very bloody cold and very
bloody wet - and it was about 8.30 when Rockit and his mates (with me
tagging along so I didn't get lost on the way to Mallacoota) headed off the
Island.

I saw some sneaky police behaviour... an unmarked van was evidently crawling
along, begging to be overtaken on Overtaking Lanes, so the two 'Busas that
screamed past me before Bruthen (and again after their petrol stop at
Bruthen) got well and truly done on the way to Cann River. Mostly though,
apart from the cold and the sneaky cops, it was a lovely ride.

My face is peeling already - in fact, I think my helmet started abrading my
scorched forehead on Monday morning. I've had two lovely days of "chill"
time in Mallacoota - my all time favourite place - and I got home around
1-ish today after a bit of low flying on familiar roads. I'm hoping the
bloke who overtook me just outside Bemboka didn't lose too much of his
luggage... I flashed him, bipped him and waved frenziedly for about a
kilometre to try and let him know his bloody TOP BOX WAS OPEN, but I guess
some people don't check their mirrors very often...

PI 08 was fan-bloody-tastic for so many reasons - and the racing was only a
small part of it. I'm still absolutely blown away when I find myself flying
along a road on a motorcycle, and thinking about how my life has changed
since I started riding in late 2005... Thanks Clem, Leon, Rockit et al,
Smack, Bomber.... brilliant time!

betty

 

Bloody hoon (or is that hoonette???) !!! ;-)

Great report too....


Onya bike...

Gerry

 

The other kind might have got his attention more quickly, but whether
Knobdoodle would have been any better off is moot.

So you flashed this stranger and used your *horn* for more than a
kilometre chasing his " ... TOP BOX ... ". No wonder you think you had a
good weekend.

 

sheesh..... must be this gorgeous new "lezzo"[1] haircut I got.... the
barber got a little overzealous last week. It's about a week more extreme
than I'm used to, and it must've affected me[2] in weird and wonderful
ways...

betty
[1] I just asked for short back and sides, but now people look at me funny
[2] but not half as much as it seems to have affected other people!

 

Great report Betty. Any pix? That XJ750 is making yet another trip to
PI that I never got a chance to when I owned it (assuming its the red
and silver one).

 

What; are you channelling Dick Emery Andrew?

 

I'm in for my own "Lezzo" tomorrow BB. My hair is almost 2 inches long now
and it's driving me up and OVER the wall!!

 

No... No ... No dammit . I have no idea what you're talking about ...
but I like it!

 

That's the one Peter.
Absolutely faultless when it's running properly, absolutely diabolical when
you're trying to figure out why it's not!!

 

Ah, so you missed out on the snowfall between Bombala and Cooma on
Monday afternoon, then.

 

Did I meet you? Did I behave? Drunk I was fucked doing that lap.

 

Didn't see any of youse. That being said, for the main race I was
hanging around just past Southern Loop with a bag on my head because I
forgot my hat, so I didn't see much of anything.

-----sharks

 

In aus.motorcycles on Thu, 9 Oct 2008 13:58:06 +1100

Why are you complaining? You don't remember? Brewer's droop?

Zebee

 

Officer in charge of traffic for E. Gippsland, Dave Carey was
interviewed on the ABC as part of a wash-up of the weekend.
He expressed his disappointment in the behaviour of motorcyclists who
travelled through his territory to vivit the GP.
They never learn, the highest speed detected was 176kph; they ride in
packs so that detection is difficult, and 230 (?) were
detected with a radar device east of Orbost and are likely to get a
present in the mail within the next 5 weeks.He thought that
there was a need to revise their tactics next year and recalled the
success they had (somwehere, sometime??) when they set
up a road block , checked out credentials and came up with all sorts
of oddities.
Ah well!!.... and there was only 1 injury reported , that being a
spill on the Bonang resulting in some leg damage.
With the PR exercise over, me thinks the backroom boys will be fairly
pleased with how things turned out

 

Yeah the permanent bed hair stage sucks arse.

 

Don't take this the wrong way...but I think you need to get a bike
that's a bit easier for you to pick up off yourself!

 

Didn't see any of youse either... I was on the north siberia mound
(which is closer to the food than the south siberia mound) ;-)


G-S

 

I didn't manage to get to the island at all, but I did stand at the
Corinella turnoff and wave to the bikes in the GP run on Sat morning.
Was that you in the outfit with a pair of grommets that didn't wave
back? There were only about thirty people in our corner party, so you
should have noticed.

It was interesting to see the GP run from the perspective of the
spectators. Most of the people who set up camp at our corner were not
'into' bikes. They were there to partake in the spectacle, and to let
the bike riders know that they are appreciated. (Both ideas were
articulated by those present).

They don't line up for the supercars. Most don't even know when they're
on, but *everyone* in Corinella, Wonthaggi, Grantville etc knows when
the bikes are due.

One of my students works a food van at the track, and remarked on the
profound difference between the crowds that get to the motorbike races
and the ones at the V8s. It seems the V8 specttors are not very nice
folk, but the bikers are. I heard the same sentiment from a group of
elderly locals.

Moike

 

I don't get it. I understood from all the threats of fines that if you
went more than 4kms over the posted limit you automatically died. We
only have traffic police to save us from ourselves, don't we?

Theo

 

Well yes, that would be the ideal solution.