Last night I was achy and tired, and had the best sleep.
Yesterday. I. Had. A. Ball.
There is something incredible about the feeling of liberation and the sense of freedom that comes from being on the back of a motor bike. You are at one with nature. There is nothing between you and the great outdoors. The smell of wet grass and dewy trees. Your sense of smell is enhanced somewhat, until you get the whiff of dead animals and petrol fumes. Then you realise exactly just how close you are to nature.
We had borrowed a bike and some gear and after a test ride on Wednesday to see how I went, took a little ride. Just a short 500 km ride. Which took us all day. Sure I was
tired exhausted, but it was worth every last-minute of it. The bike we borrowed – from Dad. A Suzuki GS500
I am hooked!
It was 20 years ago. He was 19, I was 17. Hubby had been riding bikes for years and had loads of experience, I had none. At. All. So when he took me for a ride, not thinking about this rather important fact it didn’t turn out so well. I have not wanted to get back in the saddle since. What happened? Let’s say when you take someone for their first bike ride, you don’t take it at obscene speeds down the road and scare the bejeezers out of them. He didn’t understand why I was bawling when the helmet came off.
He has since matured and I have since come to like the bike thing, after dealing more with it Mt Isa and even having a go at riding myself. Yeah, I’m happy to be the passenger.
I was surprised at how comfortable it is to ride pillion and hang onto that tiny little handle behind the seat. Relaxing almost. I mean that in the most basic way of course. Obviously you can’t just lean back and go to sleep, but relaxing none the less. Even hanging on is not a hard thing, it’s more for the stability and a knowing you have that safety net (and of course when cornering).
Riding along, it was so normal, comfortable and just.. felt right.
So where did we go that took up 500 km’s? The question was south or east. We’ve done south quite a bit recently, (in the car) so east to Orford it was, a destination just over an hour from Hobart. Then Ross was mentioned. And the first thing I said was… “scallop pie. That’s where we’ll have lunch..”
Leaving town mid morning, we headed to Ross first, arriving just before 1. By the time we got there fatigue had set in, for both of us. That last fifteen km felt like forever. And while hubby has ridden plenty of times, it was the longest he had ridden with a passenger.
Sliding off the bike, I certainly wasn’t very graceful, and removing helmet and jacket was bliss. Commandeering an outside table we wandered in to see what lunch would consist of. For me, the scallop pie, a wagon wheel, coffee and juice. Hubby chose the chocolate milk, a potato pie and pastie, a kiss biscuit and the obligatory chocolate bar.
Now normally I eat nicely? neatly? slowly even, but I must have been hungry as that pie was inhaled before hubby had finished his first.
Ross is well known for its scallop pies, the scallop pie centre of Tas, and everyone raves about them. To be honest, and while I have nothing else to compare it to, it was average. Tasty. Yes. Juicy plump scallops filled the crust but I found the curry sauce was bland. Their pastry is perfect. Properly cooked, so none of those uncooked gluggy patches, and not so flaky that you end up wearing more than you eat. I would have liked it to be a bit deeper, or higher, a few more mouthfuls would have been better. Would I go again. Absolutely. But would I get their scallop pie? Probably not. I have been told there are some amazing ones in Richmond, so that will be my next venture out. Parked outside the bakery.
A relaxing break and we are back on the bike for the next step. Ouch, my arms hurt. Not for long. after five or ten minutes your muscles realise nothing will change and settle in for the long haul.
Ross to Orford. Via the back roads, which turned out to include a large section of dirt road. Not a very comfy ride at all. Stopping at Buckland on the main highway for petrol, it was a mere 15mins onwards to Orford.
From Orford you can see Maria (Ma-rye-ah) island, as per the map.
We arrived here just after 3pm and after a drink and a couple of pictures decided to head home. Not quite 2 hours away.
Having a drink at Orford beach, wearing dad’s jacket and boots.
By this time the nice sunny weather was slowly disappearing and the wind chill factor had been turned to icy. Any shadowy roads were freezing and by the time we got back to the city at 4.30, the afternoon traffic was building up.
Hubby said to me last night (or this morning, I can’t remember now) that he was nervous riding through the traffic in town because I was n the back. I found it amusing as I was having a ball, your perceptions are changed by sitting on the bike, and I was seeing so many more things I just hadn’t noticed before. It’s a whole new way of looking at things. I wasn’t feeling nervous, just excited, and a little tired.
As with any long trip, you get to a point on the way home (within around 30min/km) where the tiredness kicks in, and your thoughts turn to “so close, yet still so far”.
While I had had a ball, I was more than ready to get home. Which makes the fact I couldn’t get off the bike when we got there, funnier. “I’m stuck” as I tried to move and not fall off.
Standing inside it took a bit for the shivers and shakes to stop and for me to relax.
This morning, I felt really good. Much better than I anticipated, and my stretch class loosened any kinks out.
I can’t wait to get my own bike gear now and do it all again. But that will have to wait, boots, jacket, helmet… not cheap.
Is it time you let your inner bikie out?