It was supposed to be the Colonel’s ride to Shoalhaven Pub, but he graciously handed over the reins to me while he gallivanted with the Macarthur group in the Snowy Mountains. I mean, who wouldn’t want to swap the colonial life for snowy bliss ride, right?
The weather was supposed to be cool, so I thought a ride to Angus Banks via Springwood would be a refreshing change. However, after obsessively checking the BOM site on Wednesday night and again on Thursday morning, like a caffeine-addicted meteorologist I discovered the temperature was set to be a blistering 33 degrees plus. It was either going to be an adventure in heatstroke or a reschedule back to Shoalhaven for some much-needed ocean breeze. I’ll take the latter, thanks!
A quintet of brave souls showed up for today’s ride: Keith, Bruce, Brad, Gary, and yours truly. After a quick “who’s leading?” shuffle, Keith said the Thursday ride leader does the ride report. You can’t argue with the captain. So I won the role of fearless ride leader and report writer.
We cruised through the Royal National Park (RNP), took the back road through Helensburgh (because who doesn’t love a dodgy shortcut?), then hit the Old Princes Highway (OPH) to Bulli Lookout. After that, it was all smooth sailing on the Princess Motorway, Picton Road, and then onto Mount Keira Road. That’s when the Gary-related mystery occurred—Bruce reported that Gary had gone straight ahead. Was it a tactical manoeuvre? A mid-ride midlife crisis? We weren’t sure. But knowing Gary and his Cam-Am (which, by the way, has more buttons and features than a NASA spaceship), I decided to call him. I left him a voicemail along the lines of: “Gary, we’re having morning tea at Cordeaux Heights Café. You know, like civilized humans. Call me back.” So, we carried on, trying not to think about Gary possibly becoming a solo wanderer in the vast wilderness of the Illawarra.
We rolled into the café at 10:15 am and left at 11:15 am. Yes, we treated it like a spa day. There was cake. There was coffee. There was more cake. We were in no rush. Time flies when you’re indulging in conversation, cake and caffeine.
After morning tea, the ride team slimmed down a bit, because Keith had granddad duties (I swear, this guy’s got a built-in timer for nap time), and Brad had some “essential” home maintenance to do (read: he was probably avoiding chores by going for a ride). So, they both bailed after the tea break. Meanwhile, Gary was nowhere to be found, so I called him again. Turns out he was at Shoalhaven Pub—just hanging out like a true pub hero. Bruce and I, then set a direct course for the pub via the highway, Gerringong, Crooked River Road, and Gerroa Road, sticking to the coast like a couple of road-tripping rockstars. We rolled into Shoalhaven around 12:30 pm, and there was Gary, sitting like the king of the pub, with a cold beer in hand. I mean, that’s dedication.
The lunch was great, with cool ocean breezes blowing through the doors. We chatted about our past lives and careers, which was basically just us pretending to be serious while secretly bragging about how many different jobs we’ve had. It’s amazing how diverse we all are—one’s a BOM superhero, and the other was a drug dealer, a physio therapist and a secret orchestra conductor (or maybe just a really good insurance salesman), And then there was me, just trying to remember where I parked my bike.
As we were pondering our next move, Bruce mentioned that he hadn’t been to Kangaroo Valley in ages, so we thought, “Why not? Let’s go there and get lost!” Off we went: through Berry, up Kangaroo Valley (via Berry Mountain), left at Tourist Road, and stopped at Cambewarra Lookout for a well-deserved coffee and a view that makes you think, “Is this heaven or just a really good coffee spot?” On a clear day, it’s definitely one of the best views along the southern coast, although the coffee prices are nearly as high as the view.
After our caffeine fix and comfort break (yes, we are all just grown-up kids), we were back on the road. Down through Kangaroo Valley, up the other side, and turned right at Myra Vale Road, east of the Fitzroy Falls Reservoir. We continued on to Robertson, cruised down to Albion Park, and finally took the motorway home. The day ended with us feeling like we’d earned every kilometre of our 265-kilometre journey.
Special shoutout to Gary, who kept pace with us on his Can-Am. I mean, the man has the stamina of a superhero! If I can keep up with him in 15 years, I’ll be happy (and possibly a little bit jealous). Well done, Gary! I was still recovering on Thursday night, but it was totally worth it.
Cheers Greg Melville (Lucky)
