Sand on the tracks, and other such excuses...

My blog updates are a bit like buses, you wait around for ages then a really long wordy one comes along...ok, so they're not like buses at all really.

Finally boarded the 'Indian Pacific' or as I like to refer to it, the 'bottom torture express'. It was functional for the most part but certainly lacking a bit in the comfort and service departments, especially considering that it was mainly aimed at tourists. The food and drink sucked, the toilets broke down on the second morning, but it was definitely an experience! The only saving graces were the people I met aboard and the chance to see the scenery of the Nullarbor Desert from an air-conditioned box.

After two days of awe-inspiringly bad coffee we finally reached Adelaide, where I had to disembark as the 'Overland' service from Adelaide to Melbourne wasn't leaving until the next morning. A day seeing the sites, a night in a backpackers hostel and I was off on another train for twelve hours. Met some more great people aboard the 'Overland' service, which once again relieved the monotony nicely.

Arrived in Melbourne not a moment too soon, as I was about to go stark-raving bonkers and kill everyone aboard in a Nescafe induced frenzy. Melbourne hadn't changed one jot since I last visited, so I won't be writing anything about it. However I cannot stress enough the bizarre atmosphere produced by every store in a high-street of thousands each playing it's own selection of Christmas carols, in temperatures exceeding 36 deg centigrade. My idea of hell.

Jumped on the next train out to Castlemaine (one hour north), where I was finally presented with this:

'Gosling One' (watch Mad Max, you'll understand)

"Fan-bleeding marvellous", I said to myself, as I often do. Time to get on with this adventure malarky. It took about 60 seconds of riding for me to decide I'd packed waaay too much, and would certainly try and get rid of some of it as soon as possible.

Certainly looks the part, but hasn't really got a bloody clue.

So I headed south from Melbourne down towards the 'Great Ocean Road' and the southern coast. A nice ride around the twisty bends of the coastal arteries was a handy introduction back into riding again, however that didn't stop me dropping it once in a car park after misjudging a turn at low speed. (although we'll keep that one to ourselves eh?)

Roads in the Grampians come in 3 flavours: gravel, sand and sand covered gravel

Headed up into the Grampians National Park for my first taste of 'off-road' riding. Certainly an eye opener, but good fun once you get the hang of it. Two more droppages in the sand reinforced my belief that I really REALLY had packed too much. Seriously, this thing weighs a ton. A fact only exacerbated when it is lying on it's side in a pile of gravel and sand. Still, lesson learned!

Plenty of closed roads to choose from in the Grampians, mainly due to fire damage, be nice if they put the closure signs at the start of the road rather than half-way down them though. I also encountered a bunch of Australian bikers out for a tour in the Park, nice fellows, some flashy machines too. I was making a nuisance of myself by parking up in the middle of the track, so they stopped to take the piss out of the England cricket team. Fair enough really I thought.

Spent an interesting couple of nights camping out in the mountains of the Grampians, letting my imagination run-wild about what horrendous beasties could be making all that noise in the middle of the night. I also started one morning (or not started, depending on your point of view) with a flat battery. Could find no reason for it at all, so I just hoped it was a temporary occurrence. I spent the next 45mins puffing and panting my way up and down a couple of hills in an eventually successful attempt to bump-start the bike.

So, not going into too much detail (as this is costing a fortune in internet fees), I now find myself in a town called Mount Gambier. I came here for one reason mainly, which was to look at a long-range fuel tank a fellow had for sale. I had a look, it would do the job, so I bought it. (thanks ma and pa for the early xmas prezzie!) This has upped the fuel range of Gosling 1 quite considerably, and I now have one less thing to worry about when touring in the outback.

I even managed to fit the thing myself, with a few bits of free fuel hose from the local bike shop in Mount Gambier. Honestly, I have evidence:

Step 1: Take standard Yamaha XT600E, and attack with all available tools.

Step 2 : Wonder what the hell you've let yourself in for.

Step 3: Pretend you knew it was all going to turn out fine.

Step 4: Make like a cheesy poser

So that all went well until I discovered that my temporary battery troubles in the Grampians had turned out to be not so temporary after all. After lugging said battery round to the local Yamaha shop it turns out it is indeed at fault, a cracked cell or something similar was the diagnosis. The result is $60 for a new one, and an enforced stop over in Mount Gambier until Tuesday morning, as that is the only time I'll be able to pick up the fully charged new battery.

See that, that's not supposed to be a big hole that isn't.

Wouldn't be so bad if I hadn't exhausted the entertainment capabilities of the town in the first four hours after arrival.