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Charge Of The Midgets pt.2_Cape York on 110cc
- Thread starter glitch
- Start date
Just a quick crossing before getting started 
….Glen can’t help himself.
Breeza Plains towards Hann and Morehead Rivers are eerie
…dead-flat, bare…only some lonely termite-hills stick out.
By now, we ride where ever we find some smoother stuff….the oncoming lane, trenches on either side, sometimes even on top of the berms at the extreme outer edges
. Rather dodge the rocks and sticks than thumping through the pulverising corrugations.
Occasionally one of those sticks shows some life….and Glen nails a snake, both of them fleeing in different directions.
Another local…and not really in a hurry
Time for a break… and some of those, by now, bruised-black carrots that are bouncing around one of the launcher-tubes.
Could be Morehead River, not sure….who cares; it’s a pretty place with good camp-sites nearby.
Hide ‘n Seek…
Back on the road and near Low Lake disaster strikes:
FNFAST IS FNDEAD !!!!!!
Died as is did before…. but this time the engine doesn’t turn over, the kicker’s stuck solid… trying to rock the bike back/ forth in gear just shows a locked-up rear wheel scraping a groove into the dust…
….and over 40km to go to Musgrave, the next available port-of-call.
43k’s of badly corrugated crap, deep sand, bulldust-holes, ruts, dry river-crossings and all sorts of stuff…SHIT!!
Even if all would be fine it’d be a 1.5hr ride for us…
Ever towed a bike with a bike?
A fully loaded bike with another fully loaded bike?
A fully loaded dinky toy towed by another jam-packed 110cc/ 7.5hp dinky-toy with an auto-gearbox?
In terrain like that?
2 bikes strung together with a piece of 3/8 (9mm) washing line?
For 40k’s ++ ?
Lemme tell ya….you don’t just SHIT yourself every inch of the way…you just DISSOLVE!!
Glen was even worse off, bobbing around like a cork on a string, trying to follow the front track while dodging corrugations, holding onto the rope wrapped around the handlebar and clamped down with his right hand on the twist grip so he could hopefully let go when things went totally out of control.
After 38k’s I was done for…sweating like a pig, Plain Jane was close to seizing up under the strain, clutch slipping badly as the oil was boiling, Glen couldn’t hang onto the rope any longer and had somewhat shrunk to half his size with plain fear and horror…
A longish break sucking the hydra-packs into a crinkled vacuum, then Rohan took over
Along the way…
Finally Musgrave Roadhouse peeled itself out of the dust and first things first:
Then onto FNDEAD…..FNTERMINAL!!
The end to Glen’s Cape-Dreams after only 4 days on the road…stranded at Musgrave.
The isolators on the fence posts are from the old Telegraph line…solar panels to the right….products of 2 different centuries of technology
Just HAD to leave a sticker here…
Stunningly we watch as a farmer from near Leongatha/ Victoria pull up at the pumps…on an old Trumpy Trident 900, bald tyres and all.
Turns out, he hasn’t even got a tyre-patch kit on him and NO clue of how to fix anything on the bike if necessary, and that up here?
Jeezaz, some folks are game….
Time to get the sweat and stench of fear off us…
…before it’s back to the fridge of the roadhouse next door for some bouncing of ideas…and bouncing of coldies, of course!
At least we’re near telephones and supplies, Glen organizes the transport of FNDEAD via the RACQ Gold Membership, faxes fly back and forth between some anonymous emergency call centre and the small shop at Musgrave.
If the RACQ had any brains at all and look past their “procedures”, they’d have made Glen an offer to buy the bike on the spot, then pay the Musgrave operators $100 to take it to the tip on the next run….rather than paying a tow-truck from Coen (110k’s of dirt to the north) to pick up the bike to transport the next 450km to Cairns, then pay “Bikes Only” to transport the wreck to Brisbane, all up easily 3 times the value of the thing…
Yet another BIG THANK YOU goes to the crew at Musgrave, fantastic folks !!
With transport of the bike back to Brisbane organised, we keep mulling over possible options…
And in the end, there just might be a shimmer of hope to get things back onto the rails again, if…if…if…
The mail-plane comes once a week, mostly for a fly-over and drop of mail, and that day’s TOMORROW!!
If Glen could get a seat on the plane back to Cairns… he could rustle Goodie’s bike, the RR-V6, out of it’s slumber at the storage place, get her afloat with fresh oil and run north as hard as possible on the main road, trying to catch up.
Public phones in some places and the ‘track-telegraph’ would get us into contact somehow…the way things work, and work well, up here...
More calls to the small airline operating the mail-plane…answering machines only.
Heath at the freight-storage is chirpy as usual and opens the warehouse at 5.00 anyway …it now all hinges on getting into contact with the plane operators… which won’t be before tomorrow morning….HOPEFULLY!!
Some Musgrave MONSTER-BURGERS, a few more stubbies… the light fades quickly behind the scrawny cows grazing on the runway….
….Glen can’t help himself.
Breeza Plains towards Hann and Morehead Rivers are eerie
…dead-flat, bare…only some lonely termite-hills stick out.
By now, we ride where ever we find some smoother stuff….the oncoming lane, trenches on either side, sometimes even on top of the berms at the extreme outer edges
. Rather dodge the rocks and sticks than thumping through the pulverising corrugations.Occasionally one of those sticks shows some life….and Glen nails a snake, both of them fleeing in different directions.
Another local…and not really in a hurry
Time for a break… and some of those, by now, bruised-black carrots that are bouncing around one of the launcher-tubes.
Could be Morehead River, not sure….who cares; it’s a pretty place with good camp-sites nearby.
Hide ‘n Seek…
Back on the road and near Low Lake disaster strikes:
FNFAST IS FNDEAD !!!!!!
Died as is did before…. but this time the engine doesn’t turn over, the kicker’s stuck solid… trying to rock the bike back/ forth in gear just shows a locked-up rear wheel scraping a groove into the dust…
….and over 40km to go to Musgrave, the next available port-of-call.
43k’s of badly corrugated crap, deep sand, bulldust-holes, ruts, dry river-crossings and all sorts of stuff…SHIT!!
Even if all would be fine it’d be a 1.5hr ride for us…
Ever towed a bike with a bike?
A fully loaded bike with another fully loaded bike?
A fully loaded dinky toy towed by another jam-packed 110cc/ 7.5hp dinky-toy with an auto-gearbox?
In terrain like that?
2 bikes strung together with a piece of 3/8 (9mm) washing line?
For 40k’s ++ ?
Lemme tell ya….you don’t just SHIT yourself every inch of the way…you just DISSOLVE!!
Glen was even worse off
, bobbing around like a cork on a string, trying to follow the front track while dodging corrugations, holding onto the rope wrapped around the handlebar and clamped down with his right hand on the twist grip so he could hopefully let go when things went totally out of control. After 38k’s I was done for…sweating like a pig, Plain Jane was close to seizing up under the strain, clutch slipping badly as the oil was boiling, Glen couldn’t hang onto the rope any longer and had somewhat shrunk to half his size with plain fear and horror…
A longish break sucking the hydra-packs into a crinkled vacuum, then Rohan took over
Along the way…
Finally Musgrave Roadhouse peeled itself out of the dust and first things first:
Then onto FNDEAD…..FNTERMINAL!!
The end to Glen’s Cape-Dreams after only 4 days on the road…stranded at Musgrave.
The isolators on the fence posts are from the old Telegraph line…solar panels to the right….products of 2 different centuries of technology
Just HAD to leave a sticker here
…
Stunningly we watch as a farmer from near Leongatha/ Victoria pull up at the pumps…on an old Trumpy Trident 900, bald tyres and all.
Turns out, he hasn’t even got a tyre-patch kit on him and NO clue of how to fix anything on the bike if necessary, and that up here?
Jeezaz, some folks are game….
Time to get the sweat and stench of fear off us…
…before it’s back to the fridge of the roadhouse next door for some bouncing of ideas…and bouncing of coldies, of course!
At least we’re near telephones and supplies, Glen organizes the transport of FNDEAD via the RACQ Gold Membership, faxes fly back and forth between some anonymous emergency call centre and the small shop at Musgrave.
If the RACQ had any brains at all and look past their “procedures”, they’d have made Glen an offer to buy the bike on the spot, then pay the Musgrave operators $100 to take it to the tip on the next run….rather than paying a tow-truck from Coen (110k’s of dirt to the north) to pick up the bike to transport the next 450km to Cairns, then pay “Bikes Only” to transport the wreck to Brisbane, all up easily 3 times the value of the thing…
Yet another BIG THANK YOU goes to the crew at Musgrave, fantastic folks !!
With transport of the bike back to Brisbane organised, we keep mulling over possible options…
And in the end, there just might be a shimmer of hope to get things back onto the rails again, if…if…if…
The mail-plane comes once a week, mostly for a fly-over and drop of mail, and that day’s TOMORROW!!
If Glen could get a seat on the plane back to Cairns… he could rustle Goodie’s bike, the RR-V6, out of it’s slumber at the storage place, get her afloat with fresh oil and run north as hard as possible on the main road, trying to catch up.
Public phones in some places and the ‘track-telegraph’ would get us into contact somehow…the way things work, and work well, up here...
More calls to the small airline operating the mail-plane…answering machines only.
Heath at the freight-storage is chirpy as usual and opens the warehouse at 5.00 anyway …it now all hinges on getting into contact with the plane operators… which won’t be before tomorrow morning….HOPEFULLY!!
Some Musgrave MONSTER-BURGERS, a few more stubbies… the light fades quickly behind the scrawny cows grazing on the runway….
Hehe pete, growing up, Cairns use to have The Fun in the Sun Festival and it started with a parade (I use to ride one of my horses in it every year during my high school years) that ended up at the esplanade. Thats when the real fun begun.
There was a race from far out in the mud to who could make it back to the esplanade walking through the mud the quickest.
dont know if the festival still goes, most likely not, the do gooders and greenies have most likely put a stop to it.
As for Port Douglas, well I am forever telling people who are dying to go there for holidays, its ruin was started by Christopher Skase and its kept snowballing from there. I remember it when it was still sort of a great place.
WOW the rest of the ride so far, what a great adventure, I dont know if I would ever be game enough to do it on posties, you three are my heros
Cant wait for the next installment
Tracey
Hi Trace
Thanks for some extra "padding", I can imagine those days.
That Cairns foreshore really dots the i of what I personally think of Cairns as a town/ city.
In contrast, the hinterland is a total GEM!!
More of that later in the yarns...
Port Douglas...it IS a SHAME what's happened to the place, I'll never spent a cupfull of petrol to get back there...complete waste of time.
Just updated again...hoping to get another lot ready by later tonite.
Things are only starting to get real interesting now...
Great posts..and pics......got anymore coming..
its pissing down here..and cant go for a ride...
Bored.....................
Rain at the Coromandel....that couldn't happen, eh? Yo...there's a LOT MORE coming...it was a 3-week ride after all.
One lot just went up, hopefully another tonight.
Keep looking in, mate
farawayman
Long Timer
No bloody hope mate...
Your FGNUTS Pete, not because you went for a ride up the cape, because you didn't go out riding today did you look at the weather?
Woops, what's that make me? :bang:
I'm servicing a couple of bikes, off on Thursday. To many cowboys out this weekend. Don't know why?
Your FGNUTS Pete, not because you went for a ride up the cape, because you didn't go out riding today did you look at the weather?
Woops, what's that make me? :bang:
I'm servicing a couple of bikes, off on Thursday. To many cowboys out this weekend. Don't know why?
Mate...we figured we'd go for a ride yesterday arvo...even the Black Spur was DESERTED!!
Incredible what Footie Grand Final produces...one of the best Spurs run we've had...EVER!
Apart from that...I've just GOTTA get some work done and that RR is part of it. Who said work can't be enjoyable, eh?
Where ya off to on Thursday?
“You’ve gotta call those guys just after 6am!”
….and Glen’s on the blower like a fly on a turd...
INCREDIBLE LUCK
….he gets through and things fall into place quickly from there.
The mail-run gets re-routed, instead of being first on the loop, Musgrave will be last today and YES, there’s a free seat.
“I might run a bit late, it’s bloody blowy out there…”
Hell… it sure is, this friggin phonebox is at a 45 angle already!!
Here’s the plan then….While Glen returns to Cairns, Rohan and I will slowly creep north, hoping for Glen to catch up somewhere.
Glen will get into Cairns, contact Michelle and Alex, stay somewhere (or with them, as it turns out), will be at the storage place at 5.30 the next morning, get the RR_V6 going, then attempt the 450km IN ONE HIT, 200k’s of that on bad corrugation, sand, bulldust holes…
He leaves his tent pitched and some gear at Musgrave and grabs the bare minimum for the run…and bare means exactly that.
Waiting for a plane...
The plane IS late and barely crabs its way back into the skies with the strong cross-winds…apparently a bit like riding a postie in sand…
The remaining crew of 2 turns north...and YES, we now have the Bamaga School Yearbook, just in case Glen's plans turn to shit... 106k’s to Coen, which surprisingly has some short sections of asphalt in it as the road climbs the Great Dividing Range…60kmh feel like an almighty rush by now
NO SUGAR, boyz, says on the can...
The rest of the track is nearly as bad as the Battlecamp Road, close to 3hrs later, this is a welcome sight
Ask the locals!!!
The publican is a living encyclopaedia and, of course, knows everything and everyone.
“The best place to stay? CHARLIE’S!!....you know, Charlie’s Mine, about 1km before town, you came past the sign if you came up from Musgrave. He’s still got some green grass to pitch a tent and the best hot showers in town!!”
That clinches it…
Sure enough, there’s the hand-painted sign on a piece of corrugated roofing iron, right underneath the sign to the local tip!!
2k’s in and past the tip, the road turns sharply into a small side-valley and there it is:
THIS IS ONE PLACE NOT TO BE MISSED!!!
You want colour in your life?? Here's the whole bloody paint factory !!
Surrounded by all those fantastic mechanical bits, most of it collected from the tip.
Figures welded up out of car-bits, a “wind-generator” out of old 44galllon drums coupled to a Landcruiser diff, then a bottom shaft of an old outboard motor, linked to another diff “to gear it down”…for the time being it all ends in some bike sprocket-and-chain-arrangement”.
“What’s it do?”
“Don’t know yet, could be a generator if I find a 12V alternator or something”
His own place is a house built from bottles with a sloping concrete floor “makes the clean up easy, just hose it out, the low end has openings for the water to run out”.
A true "Neverflat" !!
He stopped mining years ago after some health problems and has started to re-arrange his place for some tourism…digging a small dam with the fragile, old Case frontend-loader, which snaps a drive-shaft a week…
“I’ll have some grassy area over there on the dam-wall, then the Swiss and German backpacker girls can do some sunbathing” The Cape is full of ‘em…
SURE, Charlie! Now tell us the rest….
There’s even a laundry!!
We get on like a house on fire….right on, mate…THUMBS UP to a Cape-Legend!
We take him out for a pub-meal and a Rum ‘n Coke “only ONE, boys”….and surprisingly it is…sort of
Then return up the bumpy track, or rather: that bumpy cattle-grid that nearly sends the front wheel through the triple clamps, back to his place…in the dark, T-shirts and shorts and flip-flops….fugg it, it’s THE CAPE, ya know?
….and Glen’s on the blower like a fly on a turd...
INCREDIBLE LUCK
….he gets through and things fall into place quickly from there. The mail-run gets re-routed, instead of being first on the loop, Musgrave will be last today and YES, there’s a free seat.
“I might run a bit late, it’s bloody blowy out there…”
Hell… it sure is, this friggin phonebox is at a 45 angle already!!
Here’s the plan then….While Glen returns to Cairns, Rohan and I will slowly creep north, hoping for Glen to catch up somewhere.
Glen will get into Cairns, contact Michelle and Alex, stay somewhere (or with them, as it turns out), will be at the storage place at 5.30 the next morning, get the RR_V6 going, then attempt the 450km IN ONE HIT, 200k’s of that on bad corrugation, sand, bulldust holes…
He leaves his tent pitched and some gear at Musgrave and grabs the bare minimum for the run…and bare means exactly that.
Waiting for a plane...
The plane IS late and barely crabs its way back into the skies with the strong cross-winds…apparently a bit like riding a postie in sand…
The remaining crew of 2 turns north...and YES, we now have the Bamaga School Yearbook, just in case Glen's plans turn to shit... 106k’s to Coen, which surprisingly has some short sections of asphalt in it as the road climbs the Great Dividing Range…60kmh feel like an almighty rush by now
NO SUGAR, boyz, says on the can...
The rest of the track is nearly as bad as the Battlecamp Road, close to 3hrs later, this is a welcome sight
Ask the locals!!!
The publican is a living encyclopaedia and, of course, knows everything and everyone
.“The best place to stay? CHARLIE’S!!....you know, Charlie’s Mine, about 1km before town, you came past the sign if you came up from Musgrave. He’s still got some green grass to pitch a tent and the best hot showers in town!!”
That clinches it…
Sure enough, there’s the hand-painted sign on a piece of corrugated roofing iron, right underneath the sign to the local tip!!
2k’s in and past the tip, the road turns sharply into a small side-valley and there it is:
THIS IS ONE PLACE NOT TO BE MISSED!!!
You want colour in your life?? Here's the whole bloody paint factory !!
Surrounded by all those fantastic mechanical bits, most of it collected from the tip.
Figures welded up out of car-bits, a “wind-generator” out of old 44galllon drums coupled to a Landcruiser diff, then a bottom shaft of an old outboard motor, linked to another diff “to gear it down”…for the time being it all ends in some bike sprocket-and-chain-arrangement”.
“What’s it do?”
“Don’t know yet, could be a generator if I find a 12V alternator or something”
His own place is a house built from bottles with a sloping concrete floor “makes the clean up easy, just hose it out, the low end has openings for the water to run out”.
A true "Neverflat" !!
He stopped mining years ago after some health problems and has started to re-arrange his place for some tourism…digging a small dam with the fragile, old Case frontend-loader, which snaps a drive-shaft a week…
“I’ll have some grassy area over there on the dam-wall, then the Swiss and German backpacker girls can do some sunbathing” The Cape is full of ‘em…
SURE, Charlie! Now tell us the rest….
There’s even a laundry!!
We get on like a house on fire….right on, mate…THUMBS UP to a Cape-Legend!
We take him out for a pub-meal and a Rum ‘n Coke “only ONE, boys”….and surprisingly it is
…sort of Then return up the bumpy track, or rather: that bumpy cattle-grid that nearly sends the front wheel through the triple clamps, back to his place…in the dark, T-shirts and shorts and flip-flops….fugg it, it’s THE CAPE, ya know?
farawayman
Long Timer
Going to say Hi to a few old farts in Victor Harbor, then a few days sliding around the pea gravel on Kangaroo lsland. I hope she's not reading this, apparently Triumphs don't do gravel.
Then onto Adelaide to see my daughter.I expect this ride report to be finished by the time I get back.