RIDE REPORT: CHARLOTTE PASS, 2 January, 2011

Nick and Therese Hicks, K1300GT
Neil Goldfinch, Blackbird
Garry McCurley, VFR1200
Mark Walker, NT700V
David Brown, ZRX1200S
Ian Paterson, ST1300
Trevor McLeod, FJR1300

Wild weather in the early hours of Sunday morning – cyclonic winds, heavy rain and a light show worthy of Pink Floyd – probably scared a few people off, but seven hardy souls gathered at Hume for our expedition to the wilds of Kosciuszko National Park.

As it turned out the weather wasn’t too bad, unlike the traffic on the Monaro Highway, which was coming thick and fast in the opposite direction as hordes of holiday makers headed home. We stopped at the East End Cafe (Cooma’s bikers’ cafe, which is now open for dinner four nights a week) for coffee and were joined by the eighth member of our merry band, Trevor, who was going somewhere else but changed his mind and rode like stink to catch us up.

We refuelled in Jindabyne and left most of the traffic behind as we climbed the beautiful sweeping bends on the road to Perisher Blue, which was closed up for the summer, and on through spectacular alpine scenery to Charlotte Pass. On one bend we were unable to avoid the huge flattened remains of some animal that had apparently been run down by a steamroller and reduced to a dark, greasy smear that covered half the road. The front wheel skipped but we all made it through unscathed.

The temperature fell as we ascended and by the time we got to the pass it was down to about 18° and a chilly zephyr was whipping around our ears. David didn’t take his helmet off for fear of frostbite until it was time for a group photo. There were more than 100 cars parked by the side of the road (so much for the wilderness experience) but we found room for our seven bikes in a 20-minute parking zone right at the pass.

From there we walked 20 metres to the lookout and 20 metres back to the bikes. I have always argued that motorcycling is an active sport that helps keep me slim and trim, and this hearty stroll – accomplished while breathing air almost devoid of oxygen (Mt Kosciuszko can be compared to Mt Everest, both being the highest peaks of whole continents) – only confirmed my view.

To revive us, we lunched at the Kosciuszko Chalet at the Charlotte Pass ski resort just below the pass. Tumut smoked trout salad was the most popular dish, and quite tasty, although it left us wondering if there should be more to a $16 salad than just bits of lettuce leaf. Neil had the biggest and most sustaining meal of all by ordering a burger and chips off the children’s menu.

The Chalet’s toilets held a special surprise – a wall-mounted dispenser that looked like an hot-air hand dryer but that, when the hands were held underneath it, automatically delivered a puff of air followed by a paper towel. Unfortunately, they had forgotten to provide a bin for the paper towels so there was a mountain of sodden litter on top of this high-tech marvel.

The ride back to Jindabyne, with the wind at our backs and little traffic on the smooth, winding road, was glorious. We farewelled Nick, Therese and Neil, who headed directly back to Canberra, and had an exhilarating ride via Dalgety and Maffra to the Polo Flat roadhouse in Cooma’s industrial wonderland.

When we arrived it was so warm I took off my long-sleeved top so I could ride in t-shirt and mesh jacket. When we departed, 20 minutes later, the breeze felt kind of chilly and a glance at the dash revealed that the temperature had dropped to 24°. Ten minutes up the road, however, before we had even reached Bredbo, it had risen to 34° and I was feeling decidedly warm. Is Polo Flat a climatic black hole that should really be named Polar Flat? Does the solution to global warming lie hidden within its warren of workshops and woolstores?

I pondered this and other questions of cosmic significance (such as why do learner drivers in big four-wheel-drives travelling at 80 km/hr with 200 cars banked up behind them never pull over to let anybody past?*) as we battled heat, cross winds and heavy traffic all the way back to Canberra. Nonetheless, it had been a bloody good day.

Ian Paterson

*(this is how the parent/supervisor passes on their bad habits - a little like cloning)