Cania Gorge Ride: 20th & 21st October 2007

by Peter Hansen

After a late start, 14 people on 12 bikes set off with Tim as escort to the city limits. I’m sure we was wishing he was going with us. The run was peasant because of the cool cloudy weather and incident free. Did anyone notice how conservatively Kevin was riding? We stopped at Mirium Vale for fuel, morning tea and a good chin wag and then a brief stop at Calliope where Rosanne caught up with her daughter. The trip on to Biloela was short and sweet with some taking the direct route and others going via Coal Road which is a windy country road that skirts the Callide power station. Not a bad ride except for the odd burnt tree limb on the road. There had been a recent fire through the area.

Lunch at the Commercial Hotel produced some surprisingly good steaks for those who had them. At this point I had to order Pizzas from the Duck In in Monto to be delivered that night for dinner. What I should have done was to ask them how many pizzas do we need for 16 people. Jamie and Alison were to join us at Cania Gorge. That would have been a smart thing to do but I have never been accused of being smart. What I did was work out what I thought we would eat. More on that later.

After leaving Biloela, we traveled 12 km to the thriving metropolis of Thangool and onto Mt Scoria, known as the singing mountain. For those of us who took the challenge and entered the spiritual domain of this geological phenomenon, the mountain sang. The pathetic wooses who refused to trek the 80m to enlightenment will be left forever wondering.

After Mt Scoria, our next destination was Cania Gorge. Again a pleasant run, although Kevin was still riding conservatively. I wonder why. Maybe Sandra had something to do with it. On arrival at Cania Gorge, out came the drinks and nibblies including some delicious blue vain cheese and some equally delicious wines. Thanks to all those involved.

Then came the pizzas. I had ordered 9 large ones. Actually, I had ordered 9 enormous ones. We could have fed the population of Thangool with these. Try as we might, we seemed to make very little impact on them. Having been beaten by the pizzas, we continued to socialize, finishing at a reasonable hour but I was concerned about the noise level as I had gone to lengths to convince them we were geriatrics too old to party. I lied. The next morning revealed no complaints so that was a load off my mind.

Some of us went for a walk to the dripping rock and on our return, found the rest in a valiant but useless attempt to eat their way through the mountain of pizzas. The walkers joined the feast but we were defeated. The pizzas won.

Departure time saw Adam and Leanne leave for Bundaberg to avoid threatening rain. The rest of us rode to the dam then onto Monto for a refuel. At the Ceratodus turn off, Harry left us to get to Mt. Perry as he was concerned we would be late for the pre-arranged lunch. We headed towards Mt. Perry, again Kevin riding conservatively, only to find Harry standing beside a bike that initially we didn’t recognize. It was his and in very different shape from when we saw it last. Fortunately, he was ok although obviously shaken. He had run wide on a corner and almost rode it out until a patch of sand brought him down. A passing motorist kindly offered assistance. With some cable ties, tape and string, the bike was made rideable but the decision was made to leave the bike hidden from public view and pillion Harry to Mt. Perry. There was concern delayed shock may impede his ability to ride. As it turned out, that was a very wise decision.

The trip to Mt. Perry was steady for some and quicker for others. I blasted past Kevin on one of his favorite roads; still no reaction. Gee he must be smitten badly. On arrival at the pub, it was a welcome site to see the rest of the club members there. Dave and Veronica left fairly quickly followed by Tony and Lol to come back in Dave’s vehicle and trailer to retrieve Harry’s bike.

After a feed and a beer, Harry looked decidedly uncomfortable so Mike Gibb took him to the Gin Gin hospital where he spent some time till he was transferred to Bundaberg by ambulance. As it turned out, he was battered, bruised and shaken, but that’s all. Tough old bugga our Harry is.

There was almost another accident on the run to Gin Gin. I knew he couldn’t contain himself. You know the long down hill straight, well when Sandra wasn’t looking; Kevin gave it some stick, only to have a wallaby step out in front of him and he had to take evasive action.

There was a fuel stop at Gin Gin for some then off to Bundaberg. When I arrived at Quay St., Rosanne and Kerry were there closely followed by Mark. I noticed strange noises coming from the direction of Kerry. It turned out to be a combination of her teeth rattling and knees knocking. She was saturated and almost suffering from hypothermia. I suspect some wet weather gear might be on the short list.

Although the trip was marred by Harry’s accident, it was warming to see everyone pitch in to help, especially Dave and Tony who retrieved the bike.

I would also like to thank John Alexander for being tail end Charlie; which is where he should have been because he was riding on bald tires; on wet roads.