Number one daughter finally made her first move out of home a few months back. Her work gave her a position in its Cairns office. They gave her time and expenses to drive her car the 1700 kilometres from Brisbane to Cairns (yes, 1700ks and still in the same state!) but her bike was another story. Initially she was going to ship it up but “someone” mentioned that they might ride it up for her and that seemed to plant the seed that it wasn’t going to be trucked up.
Now, in “someone’s” defence, that someone had never been further north than Rockhampton via ground transport (apart from the far west in the early 1990’s) and thought it might be interesting to see what more of the state of Queensland looked like.
I……er…..someone decided last week would be a good time as he had a string of days off which gave time to get back home for work on the Friday. Bike loaded lightly - check, riding gear selection sorted - check. Pre ride photo - check.
Unfortunately Monday coincided with the weather gods deciding to break the drought that had persisted for many months. Now I’m not begrudging the rain, lord knows it has been sooo dry and farmers are suffering badly this year but it absolutely flogged down for much of the first few hours! After riding mostly adventure bikes on 80/20 tyres the last few years I was pleasantly surprised at how well the little Z650 shod with Michelin Road 6 tyres handled the wet conditions. They ploughed through standing water at highway speed, cornered so surefootedly that I could have been on dry tarmac - a far cry from how the front tyre on the Desert X feels in the wet!
I rode non-stop for a few hours until I came to a fuel stop just west of Oakey. No fuel was needed yet but I decided to pull in to use the bathroom, grab a coffee and a warm sausage roll. “Pieface” sausage rolls? Yeah, give them a miss - probably the worst sausage rolls I have ever eaten.😬
Pressing on I soon passed what I would later find out was Oakey power station. It looked far more impressive on this dark afternoon than the photo shows.
In fact, the few times I stopped for a photo because of the brooding sky/landscape the photo didn’t look half as dramatic as it did on the day.
I made a quick stop in Dalby for fuel then kept going.
Leaving Dalby the heavens opened again and with the camber-less road I was soon splashing through deep water. While the tyres were faultless I slowed to maybe 70km/h for a while as it was seriously more like jet skiing than motorcycling.
I stopped under the awning of a petrol station in Chinchilla as the sky was black with another approaching storm. It began to bucket down again so I killed the time trying to get my Cardo to work again as it has abruptly ceased operation a while back. Button presses were having no effect so I gave up and pressed on once the rain eased.
I stopped briefly at my neighbour Dan’s road to their old family property for a photo. Some lady driving out of said road mouthed “are you ok”? to which I gave a thumbs up. Just a dumb motorcyclist standing in the middle of nowhere in the rain. Nothing to see here! 😆
Back in Dalby when I had helmet comms I had asked Lucy to book me a motel in Miles. I saw a message that this had been done and I sure was pleased to get into that room and remove my wet gear. I should say cold, wet gear for it was cold today. Well, cold for a Queenslander, probably not so for a southerner.😉
After a warm shower I wandered up the street to the first pub I came to, the Hotel Australia and after a cleansing ale, I had a very nice lamb shank and red wine for dinner.
Wandering back to the motel I was soon in bed with the alarm set for first light. I wanted to get as far as I could today and I had two targets. A modest one that would see me needing a big day on the third day or a big one tomorrow which would allow some more wiggle room for things to go wrong on the third day.
Seeing as I didn’t leave until 1pm today, 348km in the rain wasn’t too bad.
Waking to threatening skies this morning I loaded up quickly. The tried and true plastic bags in the boots was getting another run today.
Then I was up the street to the Ampol petrol station for a top up and a quick breakfast sausage roll n coffee. This one was a known quantity and was tasty. That done I choofed out the road towards Roma.
You may ask why I was going this way rather than up the coast via the Bruce Highway? Well, the Bruce is the main trucking route, is in poor condition, has many many roadwork sites as a result, has massively more traffic and speed zone changes with police to catch you out with all those speed changes. This outback way might be a little longer but it is almost traffic free, especially once clear of Roma.
The 141km to Roma went by pretty quickly even though I was just sitting between 100-110km/h. I didn’t want to flog the bike so kept to this speed the whole trip.
Fueling up in Roma I turned north for some looong sparsely populated stretches. It was going to be 264km until my next stop in Rolleston. The road surface deteriorated in places along this leg. There were some shockingly bumpy section and the Z650s rear shock definitely didn’t like the square-edged bumps, kicking me hard in the arse many, many times. I did get off for a photo at one point to quickly stretch my legs and give my bum a rest. Having said that, the seat was actually pretty comfortable. My only grip being the foot peg to seat distance was short so my legs were pretty folded up.
Anyway, I rolled into Rollestone several hours later. Passing the BP servo I noted how run down it looked with no pumps out the front. “It must have been closed and a new one opened” I said to myself and cruised through town looking for fuel. Coming to the other side of town I thought “shit, maybe there is no fuel here”?
Rollestone is population 132, so actually, highly likely!!
Riding back past the BP I then noted pumps down the back of the block. Phew! They had obviously moved them so that modern longer vehicles could drive through without knocking their shop front down. I filled up then moved the bike around the front to take a break.
A fine Chiko Roll and coffee milk was the best I could find here. Living like a Truckie! 😆
Heading out of Rollestone the next town was Springsure. I wasn’t expecting much but was surprised at the very well maintained, pretty little town that it was, nestled at the base of an imposing escarpment. No photos of the Main Street but I tried in vain to capture the escarpment.
Next stop was Emerald which made it a 140km leg from Rollestone. Just outside Emerald I had to stop for my first roadworks of the trip and as I accelerated away I noticed a certain “snatchiness” to the drive train. Uh, oh. That’ll be the chain!
Rolling into Emerald I fueled up and inspected the chain. It was like a loose licorice strap. Shit!
Luckily there was a Honda shop next door so I went in and very politely explained my situation. "Could they tighten the chain or could I rent some tools to do it myself please"? The blankest of blank looks was all that was given back.
“Oh, we couldn’t fit it in until tomorrow”. 😆😆
A chain tension would take literally five minutes max! I thanked them and turned to leave. The woman siting at the desk pushing a sandwich into her face, who I got the impression was the owner, said to try the Can Am shop next door. I kept being nice and said thank you.
Fcuk Morgan Motors Honda in Emerald. Never go there as a rider in need.
Anyway, I wandered into the Can Am shop and asked very politely, like I had next door if they could tighten the chain or if I could rent some tools to do it myself. The lady here said “bring your bike around the back into the yard. I’ll meet you there”. As I rode into their yard she was rolling a huge tool box out to me! “Help yourself” she said.
Bloody awesome!!
I quickly had the chain set to the best tension I could get as it had a wicked tight spot in it. They even gave me some chain lube to squirt at it. I spoke to the owner for a bit about bikes, travel, rain and the road ahead (which he said was in shocking condition). I thanked him profusely and gave him some cash (which he refused) but I made him take it as he and his wife really saved my bacon.
If you need motorcycle work done in Emerald, please go see the guys at Fat Man Small Motors. They are awesome people!!
I only lost about thirty minutes with the chain issue and as I headed out the road I told myself I had best unweight the seat when I went through the arse kicking whoops that made up this highway. The reason? Well, with that tight spot in the chain I didn’t want to snap it out here as I would really be in a tight spot then!
Rolling into Clermont another huge downpour was just beginning and I raced a council garbage truck for the shelter of the awning over the pumps of the BP servo. Just in time again as it tipped down!
I wasn’t worried though as it had been pretty hot for the last few hours so a cooling shower was welcome. Some soggy chippies washed down with a Powerade helped pass some time as I gave my arse and legs a rest while waiting out the rain.
I topped up to the brim here as the next stretch was 378km to Charters Towers with just Belyando Crossing roadhouse at the 176km mark. Their fuel was supposed to be the most expensive anywhere (because they are literally in the middle of nowhere!) so I was planning buying only enough from them to get to Charters Towers in the morning. The little Z650 was getting about 23km to the litre with me sitting up in the wind, so about five or six litres is all I would need from Belyando. Yes, Belyando was my goal for the night and I made a call from Clermont to make sure they had a room for me.
Rolling out of town I was treated to some really nice road surface but also loads more bumpy, potholed, whoopy stuff and I was getting pretty fatigued from the concentration on the road surface and from doing a squat over every larger whoop and bump. I was certainly questioning life choices for most of the last 176 kilometres!
Finally rolling into Belyando I put 5.9 litres in at $3.80 a litre, paid for it and got my room key. The rooms were transportable dongas but the shower was good and the air conditioning excellent which made me extremely happy as it was pretty damn hot this afternoon.
After cooling down I headed for their bar area where it was happy hour with cheap beers. That eased the pain of the cost of fuel.
The place was full of mainly road workers with the occasional tourist like me sitting around watching the sunset. I grabbed a massive beef burger for dinner and hit the hay pretty early again. I set an alarm for 0530 which was a bit of a sleep in. Tomorrow wouldn’t be as big a day.
Up and at ‘em for the final push and I was away before 6am. The air was cool with that dusty-sweet smell of dew on the grass that brings up memories of many early mornings for work from decades back. The best time of the day in the outback for sure. To cap it off the road surface was mint as I had crossed into the Charters Towers shire area just a few hundred metres north of Belyando Crossing roadhouse and I had it completely to myself this morning!
Cruising along some epic long straights I stopped for a couple of quick photos. Yep, worth getting up for!
I did need to be a bit careful as there were more kangaroos out this morning than I had seen for the entire trip so far. Just blasting along at 100km/h I had no terribly close calls. This 202km section alternated between good, new surface and sections of that old, lumpy, shitty goat track. I was back to doing my squats for many, many kilometres.
I eventually rolled into Charters Towers and not seeing a petrol station, stopped to check maps. Finding one near the centre of town I made my way in for a fill up. It was a very busy station so might be one of not many in town. They had a cabinet full of fresh looking sandwiches which was a nice change from sausage and Chiko rolls so I grabbed one, with a coffee and stood out the front watching the comings and goings of Charters Towerians this fine morning.
A car pulled in towing an immaculate old Yamaha Tenere' in a trailer. You don't see them in this condition very often!
Here I needed to make a decision on weather to continue the inland route via Greenvale and Atherton to Cairns or cut across to the coast and do the last bit on the Bruce Highway. It was another 515 kilometres to Atherton with nothing in between on these lonely, bumpy roads. I decided I had had my fill of hours of nothing and as a bonus, going via Townsville I might be able to grab a coffee with Warren of Motorcycle Paradise fame. So, I sent Warren a text, hopeful that he was in town AND might see it in time and set off towards Townsville.
The road to Townsville was much, much better even if it did have tons more traffic on it. It was initially hilly and a bit twisty compared to the last two days of my ride then it passed through the craggy hills to the south of Townsville that I have looked down on for so many years while flying into The ‘Ville.
Townsville is the big smoke, with just over 200 000 people calling it home so it was a bit of a shock coming into the outskirts and dealing with traffic. I pulled into the first convenient servo to check my phone for messages. Nothing there, unfortunately. Maybe Warren was still overseas on another ride?
Oh well, pressing on north I was pleasantly surprised at the smooth, smooth road. This bit of the Bruce seemed to be in good condition and once I got 30km or so out of Townsville the traffic thinned right out. The scenery also changed around here from dead and brown to green and lush. Finally the tropics looked like the tropics!
I pressed on until Ingham where I topped up for the last time and sipped a Powerade for morning tea. A quick stop in the Main Street for a photo with a big old tree and I was off again.
The hills to my left all had their heads in cloud today but I couldn’t find a good place to stop for a photo. I did eventually stop in Cardwell for a look back southeast across the bay though.
I had been passing farmers harvesting their sugar cane either side of the road and the cute little sugar trains were here and there, scurrying to the mill. I stopped just off the highway to get a photo of the only cane train holding yard that I had seen.
Coming into Tully there were several sections of road works which slowed progress. It gave me time though to quickly duck off to the left and have a look at the outskirts of Tully.
There was a big sugar mill here. Grabbing a photo I high tailed it back to the highway, turning left for the final leg.
As I went further north the terrain became more hilly and the traffic thicker. We were being held up in long lines, stuck behind the slowest vehicle on that section of road. As we passed through the tiny village of Meriwinni I spied the pub on the right side of the road, looking across cane fields to Bartle Frere, Queenslands tallest mountain at 5299ft. What a great spot to stop for a break and get out of this boring conga line of traffic! I whipped the mighty Z650 around and parked up out the front. Wandering in there was only one local sitting at the bar and he wanted to chat. It was hard to get away so that I could get some photos out the front.
Soon after going back in a cane train rattled along the line outside the pub and I couldn’t get away from mr chat-a-lot to get some photos. Bugger.
Anyway, back on the road and I felt very relaxed…..too relaxed? 😬 but it made for an easy ride into Cairns. The last hour or so was very pleasant riding with tall, lush, green mountains flanking either side of the road and cane fields in between.
If you haven’t been to Cairns before, do yourself a favour and check it out. There is so much to do in the region with the star attraction, obviously, being the Great Barrier Reef.
Rolling into Cairns I found Lucy’s apartment complex easily and only had to wait fifteen minutes before she arrived home from work. She was pretty pleased to finally have here little bike there….even if the chain was now flogged!
I was surprised at how well the rear tyre held up. There was barely a flat spot on it after these almost 2000km dead straight kilometres.
I booked it in for a new chain and sprockets, plus a service for her, so it should very soon be riding like new. The bike itself hadn’t missed a beat at all. Every time I thumbed the starter it leapt into life. Just a typical, dependable Japanese motorcycle like all of the ones I’ve owned over the last 35 years. I had been running around town on the Z650 for a few weeks before this trip and liked its ease of handling and low stand over height. It also had plenty of go if you twisted the throttle a bit. Now that I had a bare place in my shed…….what to do….?
Anyway, two and a half days of riding and ~1850 kilometres on the little Zed had been interesting. Like I said, the bike didn’t miss a beat (the chain was stuffed before I left home tbh) and I was sort of pleased that I came through the ordeal pretty well. I still had it in me to do big days in the saddle through the mind numbing nothingness of the Aussie outback! I’m not sure of the actual value of this knowledge but at least I know I can still do big lumps of dumb, pointless stuff!
