Route: Dairy Plains to Kingston (Middleton) via Oatlands (small detour off highway).
Weather: wet wet and more wet with wind thrown in for good measure.
Distance and time: 300km and 4.5hrs – leaving 11am arriving home 3.30om.
Stops: Oatlands for lunch, 1 hr.
Day two started ominously, with rain and a temperature that would be more inducive to log fires, movies and not going out on motorcycle. But we had to leave and it was what it was.
The evening before my brother in law and hubby took the bike out for a spin and hubby returned with an interesting comment. He said he now has a new respect for me as a pillion and I do well to hang on and handle the way he corners. He has never been a pillion before so it was good for him to see what it’s like. He has said he likes how I ride, as he often has to touch my leg to make sure I’m still there. 😉
Before we left, we checked out their dairy and all the cows. Donning my waterproof bike pants, boots and a hi-vis jacket (all jackets used were hi-vis) and off we went to feed the bobbies. The baby boy calves that are good for a about 5 days before the truck comes to take them off to slaughter. Veal being the result. Because the calves are taken straight from their
parents mother we have to teach them how to feed. This means man handling them a bit. Straddling them, dipping hands into the hot milk in the feeder, putting your fingers into their mouths and hoping they start sucking to them get them on the teat at the feeder. Some of them are stubborn buggers and took a bit to get going, others were quite easy going. And, as silly little boys do, there was pushing and shoving along the way.
There was one sick calf, and as is the way on a farm, and especially in business, it had to be put down. Not a nice sight, but such is the circle of life.
Another coffee at the house and sorting our gear, putting everything into plastic bags for added protection we got ready to head home.
Just before 11 we suited up, hubby started the bike and with an extra pair of gloves on I climbed aboard.
What can I say. It was cold and wet, and the highway was busy.
I was warm enough for the first hour and then the gloves become over saturated with water (better than mine, but not totally waterproof), my bum was becoming increasingly numb. I couldn’t move without it hurting and I was getting cold. Hubby was intent on getting back to Hobart as quickly as possible, and so was I but there is only so much I can take before something gives.
By the time Oatlands was coming into view I was a wreck and made very pointed gestures that i wanted to pull over and NOW. Once we stopped. I actually couldn’t get off. It took a bit and I tried stripping things off as quickly as in could in between tears of frustration and sinking into the bench outside the public loos.
Hubby found the bakery and I was not getting back on the bike so I walked down the street.
We were going to eat outside under the verandah but after needing to go inside to order, we snavelled a table by the fire and put out gloves to warm and dry a little. Thawing out quite nicely we took an hour for lunch then back out into the cold. The weather had not let up at all.
The rest of the trip was a blur of cars, rain and the spray from passing trucks headed the other way.
Into Hobart and out the other side to collect my car. I have never been so happy to see my car. As it was still raining I had to strip pants and boots off in the car, (just a bit awkward) then remembered my other shoes were in the boot so I drove home in socks with the heater at a cosy 24C.
More hot drinks and hogging of the heater to warm up while my boys cooked dinner.
I enjoy going away and I love coming home, but I’ve not loved coming home so much as I did this time. I may grumble about it but I did enjoy the ride, the trip and what we did.
Next time we do a trip with weather remotely like this the bike will have a gel seat (designed for comfort and long trips) and we will both be in full winter/waterproof bike gear.