Ride Report – Xmas in July
A treat this time Dear Readers - two versions of the same event, so feet up and enjoy!

 
Ian’s Tale; 

Xmas in July has become one of the highlights of the Canberra branch’s annual calendar – for this little bleeder anyhow.

The bride had accompanied me to my first XiJ, in Junee, but she missed last year’s Wagga Wagga adventure and, with it, a chance to visit the National Pen Museum, on the rather lame premise of being in the USA.

This year, however, determined not to miss the wonders of West Wyalong, she resisted the lure of interstellar travel and was on the back of my bike as, with about 30 others on two wheels and four, we tootled out of Canberra bound for the open road and our ultimate destination, the Land of Droughts and Flooding Rains.

We first rode the freeway through Dejavuland and, after a short break at Jugiong, headed into the hills on the Rosehill Road, a delightful drive that meandered its curvy way up valleys, over ridges, around boulder fields and occasionally out of Sally’s comfort zone, to Cootamundra, where we were joined for lunch by a robust band of bikers from the MIA branch.

Our ride leader, Peter Higgs, did a masterful job of keeping everyone together, happy and travelling at a pleasant speed as we traversed the final leg via Temora to West Wyalong (although even he couldn’t hold back the infinitely long train at the level crossing at Stockinbingal). For those who haven’t been there, West Wyalong is just west of Wyalong and not that far east of Perth.

Unlike the original Christmas, there was plenty of room at the inn, but only because we had already booked our beds at Tattersalls Hotel, which is owned by Dennis, a former flame of our chief organiser, Judy Perry.

In fact, to everyone’s astonishment, Dennis produced a necklace that Judy had given him in high school. In true teenage “give me love or give me death” style, it was decorated with a lock of Judy’s hair.

In describing the evening of fine dining that followed, let me first say that the company was splendid, the traditional Christmas dinner was delicious, and the Kris Kringle game, ably emceed by Judy, Peter Higgs and Lyn Munday, was a hoot (apart from perhaps Leo, who went home with the same gift he had been so eager to get rid of). The startling photo on the wall of a racehorse impaled on a rail at the local track only added to the dramatic atmosphere.

Judy took the evening to a higher cultural plane by bursting into a brief operatic aria, while Leo took us in the opposite direction with a dirty ditty that shocked even the hardened BMW riders who were present.

We even had two auctions, with our president Peter Gibbins knocking down Maxine Holden’s hand-made blanket to our oldest (and, till then, coldest) rider, Derek Holyoake, and Sylvia Sinfield’s hand-knitted nativity scene to Chas and Jen Towie, both for fantastic sums. Sylvia also knitted a beautiful little place decoration for each of us.

But my evening’s contented musings were horridly disturbed when a pair of elves arrived that could have been identical twins. At first I thought I was seeing double after too much alcohol, but this was only five minutes into our pre-dinner drinks.

The disconcerting duo in fact turned out to be Peter Higgs and Andrew Campbell, who had both assiduously followed Judy’s instruction to come dressed in “festive” garb. Now, here’s the problem – do you think I could tell them apart?

Not on your sweet nelly! Not, that is, until I noticed that they were wearing different coloured pants – obviously a concession they had agreed on to spare us the embarrassment of not knowing which was whom. The only downside of this arrangement was that I had to keep glancing down at their pants, to check on who I was talking to.

Peter Higgs grew up in West Wyalong but frequented a pub other than Tattersalls as he lived on the other side of the main road. Why walk across the street when you’ve got a perfectly good pub on your side? It sounded much like Canberra’s north-south divide, only flatter.

Our rather bleary-eyed and bedraggled group gathered in the morning for a big brekky before riding home via Grenfell (where we disbanded because everyone was going in different directions and visiting different roadside attractions) and Boorowa (where we miraculously found ourselves all together once again for lunch at the bakery).

ends ............ well sort of ....there’s some more photos here!

Ian Paterson

Peter H presented us with a map each with both to and return journey marked. We kept together especially when we had time to catch up to wait for a [2 km long?] freight train. The corner marker system worked most of the time except when he blended into vegetation on the other side of a roundabout. Might be an idea for corner marker to stop before entering the corner with indicator flashing.

We met 15 members from the MIA Ulysses group for lunch at Cootamundra. I nice bunch and good to hear new stories and different lies.

The publican Denis [Judy’s school friend] at Tattersall’s Hotel was friendly and the meal was hearty country fare. The rooms were very cheap and not over priced. The hotel was in almost original condition. We forgot to say grace before the meal. Ask Robert N when you see him to repeat his. Next year we might have a ‘disgraceful grace’ contest.

The gifts for the Kris Kringle game were beautifully wrapped to disguise their contents. There was the ever popular booze and a range from the stunning and desirable to ‘easy to pass on’. For ‘those of little faith’ … Draggin Jeans were more than happy to honour the voucher for a pair of jeans, so Chas will now have a protected bum and knees. The highest number won the last bottle of Limoncello from the cellar.

Some participants were asked to perform or sing for their gift. Andrew C needs a lot more dance lessons and we were amazed to hear Leo’s ditty which is unprintable.

There were two tall elves which belie description, Ian and sally sported lovely matching his and her necklaces and a Mr Bunnings apron was easy to pack. Have a look at the pics.
 
Sylvia had knitted a Xmas figure as a party favour for every guest, and the most exquisite nativity scene as a door prize. It consisted of 11 knitted pieces including two lambs who were so young they had to lean on their shepherds to stand up and a donkey with very erect ears. Jesus in the manger looked like he was very premature! Have a look at the pics on the web. We decided to auction it and the fierce bidding ended with Jen T winning it at $135. Our auctioneer extraordinaire Peter G worked his magic on the crowd again, and the large wool blanket that Maxine had crocheted went to Dekek H for $150

It was observed we had been to Wagga Wagga and West Wyalong so maybe we should go to Woy Woy next year. Forbes looked interesting on the way home … or maybe a coastal venue.

Bryson and Peter G were pulled over at Murrumbateman for a breath test, rego check and cursory inspection of our bikes. Passed all!

Anon.