intended to replace both PULP and Super. I put a tank load in, and
over the next four hundred ks, it performed well. Every bit as good
as their brochure promised. (It should be at a Shell station near
you very soon.).
When
the Department of Main Roads upgraded the road from Millmerran to Goondiwindi,
they knew whom it was for. But as there's quite a bit of highway
there, I'm prepared to tell you about it and we can share it. There's
about one hundred kilometres of nice wide loping bitumen. It stretches
off into the distance just enough to be able to spot any adversaries as
you run beyond the wind. Holding a certain level of responsibility
in this Association I can't actually tell the sorts of speeds that you
can comfortably cruise at, but...
Even so, this delightful bit of road, which I'll admit that you can cover in times which are much better than two kilometres a minute, is just a small part of the adventure that leads, some of, us to exciting times in our southern states on a fairly regular basis.
Getting to this year's National Meet was almost half the fun for me. I left Brisbane, fairly well loaded, to go to Canowindra for Marti's Balloon Fiesta, the weekend before Easter. My friend, Rhonda, was towing her balloon behind her Subaru Forrester, and we had to collect that from the hangar at Gatton College. We rendezvoused with amazing precision and headed up the range to the Department of Transport Motor Vehicle Registration offices in Toowoomba. Rhonda had discovered that, in spite of her good intentions, the trailer hadn't actually been registered for about two years! Time to make amends. The advice given to her by one office was very different to that from Toowoomba. It was refreshing to find the commonsense attitude that prevailed in the Toowoomba office and we were soon on our way.
As we'd anticipated arriving in Goondiwindi after dark, we'd booked a motel room in advance. Just as well as there was a special police operation going on out there and every room in the town was occupied. About six marked police cars and several more unmarked cars shared the motel car park with us!
The trip on down the Newell to Parkes and across to Canowindra was very straight forward and we had a pretty good, though tiring three days playing with urr blow up toys there. My Friday morning breakfast was interrupted with a contingent of Veteran and Vintage cars from a Cowra club arriving to set up their display. Especially when a red S600 convertible drove past. I bolted across the show grounds to capture this beast before everyone got caught up in "more important" things. It is in very good shape, though it does need a set of hubcaps (as one does.), but is generally very happy with the car. (As one would be.)
But enough of this, I needed to head on south. Having been given the good oil by a pair of Cowra vingnerons, Sunday afternoon found me exploring around a dam east of Cowra. I'd felt the urge to dine on some freshly smoked trout for lunch. (The gentleman at the troutery had apologised that he didn't have many left. Only fifteen to choose from! I only wanted enough for lunch and dinner, not for a whole restaurant. Most of the drive on to Cootamundra was done in rain and fog. Not the nicest weather.
Monday morning was heavy fog until nearly 10 am, with Wagga Wagga airport closed to all traffic, so I kept away and continued south. Somewhere between there and Albury are a couple of the sneakiest railway crossings you'll find. These are on the highway and as tight as a suburban street corner! You need to slow from over the hundred to less than the thirty to avoid sweaty palms there!
In Benalla I explored
the new offering from Shell, Optimax. A new premium blend
intended to replace both PULP and Super. I put a tank load in, and
over the next four hundred ks, it performed well. Every bit as good
as their brochure promised. (It should be at a Shell station near
you very soon.).
Thanks to excerpts from the famous "MELWAYS" I was able to negotiate my way through to Kerril's for a couple of days stay before the National Meeting started in earnest. During this time Kerril took me out exploring, going to the top of Ben Cairn for a look at the inside of a Victorian cloud. (Much like the inside of clouds that we get on the inside of New South Wales clouds on Mt Warning!) We found a lovely bakery in a little town out in the Yarra Ranges and had a lunch by a babbling brook (in the rain) whilst chatting with the Mayor of Hobart's son! I revisited the Moorabbin Air Museum ( I have this informal war with them about returning an important plane to its birthplace in Toowoomba. They are very willing, but want MONEY in exchange. Which is interesting when the plane was given to them!)
Suddenly, it was pack my bags and head off to Werribee, for it was Good Friday and time for National Meet-type activity. I headed off following Kerril through the perils of those Victorian drivers. All went well until we entered the Freeway and I hit a hundred Ks. Just over 100 the bulge on the City Turbo II's bonnet starts too generate negative pressure, and you'd better be sure that it's shut properly! Especially when a gusty head wind is encountered. Time to pull over and re-secure that hatch over the power module.
As we neared Werribee it was blend in with the "Holiday seeking Melbourne masses type traffic" and speeds which would deal gently with traffic calming. Particularly funny when you start passing signs warning you of the dangers of excessive speed!
As we checked in to the motel we found that there was already a Queensland registered Civic in the car park. Having driven through the night, and day, Michele and Murray had actually been lurking in the back car park since about 2 am! Leaving them to their snooze, I went off with Steve MacTaggart, Max Wilkinson and Kerril to find and pin to the ground the motorkhana ground. We found some interesting architecture in suburban Werribee, and I was regaled with horror stories about what sort of place this was, especially on the basis on the size of its Police station! After securely pinning the ground down, using trigonometry and marking paint to ensure that it'd still be there on Sunday, we locked the gate and headed back through to the motel. Double locking all the car doors as we traveled through those southern wilds.
The motel had now been discovered by a few more Hondaphiles and handshakes renewed those National Meet friendships. The cars trickled in with recognition dawning on the assembling acquaintances. Rooms were allocated and cars unloaded, folding beds assessed, and cursed, and other people's rooms explored.
