Taking advantage of the March long weekend, myself and a group of friends extended the break to include five days of motorcycling in the Victorian High Country. The focus of this ride was to be the winding mountain roads, mostly on gravel, including the infamous Billy Goat Bluff Track. Setting off from Daylesford, I felt some trepidation about riding the Billy Goat. I told an experienced rider what we were planning to do and he said disbelievingly ‘On your bike? With those tyres?’.
Day one: Daylesford to Licola via Jamieson
It was a lovely morning as I departed with 15 degree temperatures perfect for riding in motorcycle leathers. The two hours to Yea comprised fast, forest roads and open agricultural lands before riding onto Jamieson, a charming town with a popular General Store. It was at the General Store that I stopped for a coffee and a bacon and egg roll. Rested, I looked forward to the upcoming gravel roads to Licola; two hours and 90 kilometres away.
Almost immediately the road turned to gravel with 4x4s kicking up dust making visibility difficult. The first 30-40 minutes was spent in low visibility with tight turns, never getting beyond second gear. At this point the 4×4 pulled over and I had the next 90 minutes to myself; and what a makes a difference being able to see makes. By this stage I was also getting back into the flow of gravel riding, something that requires a completely different technique to riding on tarmac. It’s always a thrill when your technique returns, and you begin to feel confident about the bike moving about beneath you.
An hour further down the road, tarmac was reinstated for the final fifteen minutes down the mountain to Licola, a tiny hamlet of two caravan parks on the river and a friendly General Store. I can’t overstate how helpful and nice the people who run the Licola Caravan Park are. The facilities are basic, clean and they sell beer; exactly what is required after riding on a hot (32 degrees), dusty trail. As the rest of the group were still riding down from Sydney, I sat by the river for the next couple of hours and enjoyed the peace.
Day two: Licola to Dargo via Billy Goat Bluff Track
What a day this turned out to be. Starting out in Licola with a quick snack and coffee, we headed out on what would be prove to be a difficult day. Adventure sounds exciting when everything works out. Sometimes, however, it doesn’t. This was one of those days.
Riding off in the smoky haze of the previous days fires, we rode towards the Pinnacles Lookout around 50 kilometres away. Tarmac quickly gave way to gravel and dust as we made our way up into the mountains. Visibility was once again low with the only sign of an upcoming corner being the brake lights of the rider in front.
The Pinnacles lookout is up a steep, bumpy track and offers magnificent views over the mountains and a respite from the gravel riding. There were a few nerves in the group as we departed and set off along the Billy Goat Bluff Track; it turned out these jitters were well justified. Ten minutes in and the track started to get rough, then steep, then steeper with gravel and shale covering the track. This was scary and believe me, the photos do not illustrate how steep this track is.
In the lead, I pushed on hoping I could get into the groove. Unfortunatley, all that happened was that I found myself locking up both the front and rear wheels, unable to retard my progress as gravity took over. The next ten minutes comprised 20-27 degree inclines with multiple crashes as I more or less slide down the mountainside. At this point, I was simply unable to get the bike further down the mountain as fear and frustration took over.
It doesn’t look that steep until you see a vehicle at the same spot.
Multiple 4×4 vehicles arrived coming up the track and found my stricken motorcycle blocking their path. One of the other riders in the group had followed closely behind, crashing behind me. It was clear that we did not have the bikes nor the technique to ride this trail. This presented a second problem. If you can’t go down, you have to try going back up. This did not work. Four of us manhandled my motorcycle up the incline, only making it 30 metres or so before the incline became too steep with the ground too loose underfoot. We were stuck on the side of a mountain.
The situation needed to be remedied as the other riders in the group were also stricken further back up the mountainside. There was nothing else to be done; we needed to be rescued. The 4×4 drivers mentioned a towing company that specialises in High Country rescues. We called, and at great expense, they would drive the five hours to meet us. When asked if they could get there any sooner, he responded ‘Mate, you’re in the middle of nowhere’, which we were.
It was now 1pm, with the rescue vehicle arriving at 6pm at which point we would have to work out how to get five large adventure bikes, each weighing around 250 kilograms, off the mountain. We sat down trying not to worry about a fire growing in size off in the distance. With nothing else to do, we sought out any small amount of shade there was—it was over 30 degrees—and made the most of our time together. In the failing light, the first two bikes were loaded and set off down the mountain. This proved a false start as one of the 4x4s in front of the recovery vehicle lost its right front wheel, blocking the path down the mountain. This set us back another 45 minutes. It was going to be a long night.
Just when you think nothing else will go wrong, the 4×4 that offered me a lift down the mountain was crashed into at speed by another 4×4. This incident could have been deadly for both vehicles as the other vehicles brakes had failed. A little stunned, one of our group was standing next to my vehicle; he had been a passenger in the other vehicle that had rammed us. The Billy Goat Bluff Track is a dangerous place.
Eventually we make it down to Crooked River where two of the bikes are waiting; neither was mine. This necessitated sitting in a clearing for another 2-3 hours with a bottle of water and a few snacks. Waiting, sitting in the dust, I reflected that here are not many times when you are forced to sit and wait, out in the middle of nowhere. It was actually a good experience in spite of the fatigue and hunger. Eventually, the remaining bikes made it down, one of which had to be trailered to Dargo. We set off in the dark at 11.30pm on dusty and windy roads. This required real concentration as the turns seemed to spring up out of the darkness. We were all relieved when we pulled into town at 12.30am and no-one was injured.
Day three: Dargo to Bright
We woke in Dargo to the sound of rain with bikes to repair. The days riding would be relatively short as everyone was tired and needing a rest after the gruelling day prior. After coffee and repairs, we set off on the Dargo High Plains Road to Mount Hotham. Riding along at a subdued pace, a number of 4x4s and bikers speed past us; one rider found crashed in a ditch by the side of the road a few minutes later. Wet gravel is precarious on a motorcycle.
The ride was mostly through the forest with us stopping briefly at the entrance to the Blue Rag Track. This is another infamous 4×4 trail where a Mercedes Unimog recovery vehicle was bringing down a smashed Toyota Hilux; it seems like we weren’t the only ones who needed to be rescued that weekend. Eventually, we made it to the Great Alpine Road and turned towards Bright. After all the wet gravel, the tarmac felt so stable and I enjoyed the ride down the mountain.
I reflected that in the previous 24 hours I had been rescued from a mountain, had three motorcycle crashes, one car crash, rode on gravel roads at midnight, and on soaking wet gravel. As we were all ok, I chalked it up to one of those aspects of adventuring.
Checking into the Bright Alpine Motel, we washed and walked into a delightful town famed for its deciduous trees. Weary, we sat by the river at the Bright Brewery, drinking and eating before taking a stroll, eating gelato and buying an unusual pair of green socks.
Day four: Bright to Khancoban via Mt Beauty, Anglers Rest and Omeo.
Setting off the next morning, we stopped for coffee at Sixpence, a superb cafe/bar. After the difficulties of day two, good conversation reigned supreme outside in the sunshine while we got ready for the days riding. Our first destination was Mount Beauty with the route via wonderful winding forest roads, probably the best riding of the whole trip. Along the way, some of the minor damage from our failed attempt to ride the Billy Goat Bluff Track became evident on our bikes. My handlebars were crooked, brake and clutch levers bent and oil was leaking slowly from one of the other bikes. Roadside repairs abounded for the rest of the trip with good work undertaken by the more handy riders in the group.
Falls Creek to Anglers Rest provided more winding mountain roads before riding on to Omeo and down another gravel road to Khancoban. On this latter section, I reflected on the last several years of off-road riding; learning the technique, putting aside the natural fear of the bike moving about, etc. and I decided that I just don’t like being bounced around enough to continue with this type of riding. The mountain tarmac is where the joy is for me and future trips will be spent mostly on smooth mountain roads.
The last gravel section to Khancoban was a chore for most of the group with 34 degree temperatures; blazing sunshine and black motorcycle leathers not being a good mix. Getting the leathers off and having a shower at the motel were a treat at the end of a long day on the road; as were the cold drinks, air conditioned room and well cooked steak from the bar.
I notice that at around 4-5 days into a group ride a number of things begin to happen. First, comes the bickering as the group struggles with being together for an extended period. Then, that passes with the group becoming harmonious once again with a desire to keep on riding; often making plans for the next big trip.
Day five Khancoban to Daylesford
Awaking in Khancoban, coffee was made before packing and setting off for breakfast at the nearby cafe. Departing after being together for an extended period is a bitter sweet moment; I always miss the camaraderie when we split, yet I like the ability to set my own pace. The next two hours were through undulating agricultural lands with wide open visibility. The bitumen roads were a joy after the gravel of the previous four days. I pushed on, stopping only briefly before joining the freeway for two hours with the final 90 minutes through the forest to Daylesford.
This five-day ride was an adventure, over stretching on the Billy Goat and having to be rescued being a new experience for me. Still, we all made it without any serious damage and a few repairs will see the bikes back in top working order. Adventure does not always work out, that’s why it’s an adventure. Solving the problems that pop up and experiencing the frisson of being outside one’s comfort zone is what pushes us to go on adventures. I’m already planning the next trip; and it will be on tarmac.
