Return to the Stories Page   The Gravel Surfers Day Out or Jim’s 30 ks Good Dirt By Tony Swan from February 2001 After Breakfast at Bungendore, we let Jimbo the Captain lead us to Queanbeyan for petrol, but he couldn’t find the petrol station, so a local took over and we all fuelled up. Jimbo then took us for a Grand Tour of Canberra South, through every traffic light, trying to lose all his surfers. He nearly succeeded, because when we got to Uriarra homestead, there was only he and me left. He decided to wait as otherwise he might as well go home. But riders turned up and we set off towards Piccadilly Circus, 6 bikes, 7 people. We took off and joined the Sunday scratchers showing us how we should take the bends, but they suddenly stopped at the dirt. Jim waved politely, I blew my horn, but none of them took the hint and came after us onto the dirt. After a few sweeping bends on a very loose surface of chopped rock, the riding order sorted itself out into 2 hares in front, an old hare next and the rest behind. The loose surface on the bends up to Piccadilly Circus was a bit trying but we gathered there, as you can see in the picture. Our leader assured us that when we reached the old Forestry Settlement, another 4 k’s, all would be well from thereon. We passed the gate just after the Settlement and the world returned to normal, as the road changed from a specially engineered tourist road to “good ole Aussie dirt”, the speed picked up to 50 or 60 k’s as we sped along to our destination. The radio station on Mr Ginini. At this point we were doing so well we missed the turn and had to go back. Turning onto horrendous loose stones on the bend and again up the hill, little did we know that this was Chicken Feed to what was coming later. The view from the Top was mainly obscured by trees, but one window gave us a grand view towards the high plains, Tantangara and the round dome of Kosciuszko was visible on the skyline. It’s a grand place to stand and contemplate where you have been all those years ago. We had a good ride back to Piccadilly, except I was stuck behind a car for a few k’s. At Piccadilly Circus, Jimbo conned everyone with his silver tongue (goes with silver hair) that going along Two Sticks road and dropping straight down Pabral Road off the ridge, would be much better than gingerly negotiating the loose rock to the tar. Suckers, we are!! Even after meeting the Law and the Ranger who told us that, where the road took a near vertical drop the 4 wheel drives had been skidding down with locked wheels making deep grooves. But not to worry they had repaired the road with 25cm chopped rock mixed with the soil, we still went on. I think this was the most hair raising few hundred meters of straight down I have ever seen on a path, let alone a road. I stopped at the bottom to watch Paul on his R1100RS, I didn’t think he had a chance in Hell of making it. He says he slid down with all brakes locked, (ABS) he thinks the clutch was disengaged, but he does know it was a long way to the bottom. I think he deserves every accolade possible for that performance. We went on down, still very steep in places, across a stream and I thought I could see very tall fir trees, the Arboretum, home run, safe at last. After crossing the stream, Mark blasted through the last bit and the great deep ruts and he disappeared around the corner. At this point my bike expired only 200 metres from the end. It just lay gently down with one wheel in the cool wet grass and gazed down into a deep cavern in the road. But it was not allowed to die, several people rushed up and commenced a heart massage which gradually revived it to an upright position in the center of the ruts and ready for a last try to make it to the tar. Paul’s R1100RS also at the end of its tether and seeing the attention my bike got, promptly lay down in almost the same place, to be assisted upright for another try to make it back to bikie heaven, the TAR. We all arrived at the tar and our steeds were so pleased they all took the bit between their teeth and poured around the bends down to Condor creek at 120 plus, all the way back to Uriarra Homestead. Here we broke up and made our own way home. In my case, somewhat chastened by laying my steed down to die on Jim’s 30k’s good dirt. Top of Page © ACTBMWMCC 2001 - not to be reproduced in whole or part without permission. Write to the Editor