Living in Geelong has few non-football related advantages, but one such advantage is living close to the Great Ocean Road, also known as The Home of Speeding and Bad Ideas.
I’m pretty familiar with the road as I’ve been driving it, flat out, since I got my car licence (apparently ‘P’ doesn’t stand for ‘inteligence’) and so with a world of confidence behind me, I set out with my friend Steve (us both L platers) for a nice ride all the way from Geelong to Apollo Bay.
The road starts to get interesting after you pass through Anglesea. From here to Lorne, the road is in excellent, with good shoulders, signs, and absent minded tourists who walk backwards onto the road as the take photos of koalas. Which reminds me- it also has koalas.
Yep, good wide corners, with perfect hotmix almost all the way to Lorne. But after Lorne, it gets a bit sketchy.
The road starts to get interesting after you pass through Anglesea. From here to Lorne, the road is in excellent, with good shoulders, signs, and absent minded tourists who walk backwards onto the road as the take photos of koalas. Which reminds me- it also has koalas.
Yep, good wide corners, with perfect hotmix almost all the way to Lorne. But after Lorne, it gets a bit sketchy.
I think Ben Carson said “‘peers’ stands for People Encouraging Rudeness and Stupidity” (so I can’t remember the second ‘E’) so with this in mind, and with a good injection of the healthy competitiveness that we both suffer from/revel in, Steve opened up his low kay, unscratched GPX250 and was having a half decent crack through the bends with me in tow on my GS500.
Now Steve is fairly adept at most things, he’s one of those annoying people who seem to be very good at most things he lays his hand to without actually trying. So when I got into roadies with a bit more aptitude than him… I MIGHT have taken it upon myself to challenge him a bit.
So after a few kays I overtook Steve and turned up the wick a bit. Zipping along, I braked a bit late, panicked, froze up and ran REAL wide on a right hand turn. Fortunately, I had knocked most of my speed off, and both my feet hit the gravel, but I kept the bike upright, and didn’t hit the guard rail. Success… I waved back to Steve, tapped my helmet (as if to somehow signify my stupidity was unpunished) and went right back to our best Valentino impressions.
I said the road gets a bit sketchy.. Sink holes, sharp edged potholes, and some really narrow bits with no runoff and a lovely soft guardrail to slow you up a bit. Great stuff to put the focus on your skills, and natural intelligence or lack thereof.
Approaching a turn, I saw big soft pothole square in the middle of the road right at the last second. I shot straight over it, slightly unsettled, but tipped in, no probs, and got back on the gas out of the corner. The thought had occurred to me that lighter Steve on his lighter bike might be more upset by the crater, and when I glance back in my mirror coming out of the next couple of turns, there was a conspicuous absence of one black GPX…
Approaching a turn, I saw big soft pothole square in the middle of the road right at the last second. I shot straight over it, slightly unsettled, but tipped in, no probs, and got back on the gas out of the corner. The thought had occurred to me that lighter Steve on his lighter bike might be more upset by the crater, and when I glance back in my mirror coming out of the next couple of turns, there was a conspicuous absence of one black GPX…
After the most panic wrought U-turn (on a nice blind turn) and the worst feeling short squirt of my life, I found Steve, upright, although scratched a touch, and in pretty good form. He’d seen the pothole too, and grabbed the brakes instead. He froze up, ran wide, found the gravel edge, low-sided his way across a road marker and come to a stop in the gravel parking area.
Just a scrape or two, he’d slowed down a heap before he took a tumble, but, like me, he reacted in panic rather than tipping in and turning the corner like he should have. Fortunately it was one of better spots to crash, so to speak, and he didn’t shoot off into Bass Strait.
Just a scrape or two, he’d slowed down a heap before he took a tumble, but, like me, he reacted in panic rather than tipping in and turning the corner like he should have. Fortunately it was one of better spots to crash, so to speak, and he didn’t shoot off into Bass Strait.
We continued on to Apollo Bay, albeit a bit slower, and I thought about a few things.
For starters, my reactions are wrong. Freezing up, grabbing brakes, and dropping your feet down aren’t half as good as leaning in, gassing a bit, maybe a touch of rear brake to tighten up your line a bit.
Also that confidence is everything. The ride immediately after the tumble had more mistakes in it from both of us than any other time during the day. But when we started to attack the corners properly again, we were safer, more consistent riders, had better lines, all that.
For starters, my reactions are wrong. Freezing up, grabbing brakes, and dropping your feet down aren’t half as good as leaning in, gassing a bit, maybe a touch of rear brake to tighten up your line a bit.
Also that confidence is everything. The ride immediately after the tumble had more mistakes in it from both of us than any other time during the day. But when we started to attack the corners properly again, we were safer, more consistent riders, had better lines, all that.
The other thing was more about self examination, and the idiocy of baiting your learner friend to keep up with you. I wouldn’t have done it to most other people, but with a bit of pride involved, thought process takes a bit of a beating.
Anyway. It was a perfect day. Great weather, two near misses, and a nice long scoot on return to get your confidence back.
One other thing. The coastal road to Apollo Bay is good. Nice turns, great scenery, all that.
But the inland road from Apollo Bay to Forrest is freaking awesome.
But the inland road from Apollo Bay to Forrest is freaking awesome.
Josh out.
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