THE DAY THE POPE CAME TO TOWN

by Al

Pics by Bly, Cam, Tex, Al

Thursday 17 July 2008 was the highlight of the Catholic church's World Youth Day. The Pope was in town. A motorcade was planned. Also planned was some nautical derivative thereof which a retarded PR flack had christened the "boat-a-cade". Shiny cheeked Christian youth thronged, stopping only to burst into song or perform impromptu dances to the glory of their doubtless embarrassed god.

Even drunks who would have cheerfully stabbed a squadron of pimply youth singing Kumbaya in public practised Christian restraint, and no-one got stabbed. No-one even got arrested for getting drunk.

It was a good day to get out of Sydney.

I contacted Sonny. He thought it would be a good day to get out of Sydney, too; and the Navy decided it could spare him for a day.

I contacted Bly. He had no problem with taking the day off.

I contacted Cameron. He wanted away, too, and he's a minister of religion.

And I contacted Tex. Tex lives in Canberra. Any day is a good day to leave Canberra.

And so it was that Sonny, Bly, Cam and I congregated at the northern entrance of the Royal National Park at about 0840, shook hands, and thought "The hell with this. Let's ride."

The Nasho. Pope Free Zone.

The road through the Royal National Park winds through the hills along the coast of New South Wales south of Sydney, except where it winds through the hills along the Port Hacking River. It's a bit over 35 km in length, and it took us less than twenty minutes to get to Lawrence Hargrave Memorial Park, on the southern border of the National Park.

I set what I thought was a cracking pace early, but slowed where the road started to look a bit damp about a third of the way along. Sonny passed on one of the damp looking bits, and while I could keep him in sight after that, I could never pass him.

We stopped at Lawrence Hargrave Memorial Park and re-grouped. Sonny lit a cigarette and said the $2,000 he'd just spent on getting new Ohlins suspension for his R1150 was worth every cent. Cam said he hadn't worked out where the suspension adjustment WAS on his Blackbird yet, so Sonny got down and showed him. Bly investigated his brake-side footpeg, which was snapped halfway along its length for some reason. He figured he would be able to swap it with one of the pillion footpegs at Goulburn.

Blackbird suspension expert in training

I looked around. There were no shiny cheeked Christian youth. There was just us, our motorcycles, a winding road and the Pacific Ocean. The day was getting better.

Cam, Bly and Sonny approach the first water crossing

We mounted up again for the expressway run into Wollongong, then turned off on to the old Princes Highway and a back road up to the base of Macquarie Pass. It's a single lane road that winds through lush dairy country. A spray of bugs hit my visor when we passed where the cows cross the road, and we stopped at a small creek crossing for some photos.

Sonny demonstrates approved creek crossing methods to the other riders

Macquarie Pass: new hotmix

I led up Macquarie Pass. The road there is new hotmix, and I set what I thought was a cracking pace again; but a glance in my mirrors on the exit of every corner showed a BMW R1150 real close. I had the power coming out of the corners and he couldn't pass me, but he was getting into them way faster than I was.

We stopped for juice at Moss Vale, and then pressed on to Goulburn, arriving a bit after 1130. I'd told Tex we should be there around 1100. He'd had trouble starting his bike and was running late himself, and turned up five minutes after we stopped.