Ulls: Again we were late leaving! Our first stop was for fuel, and we’d decided to test the external tanks finally. We thought if we can use them now, we could save time stopping for fuel later. You see, to stop every 120km for fuel means, getting off the bike, taking off your helmet, neck warmer, gloves, filling up one bike, then the next, going in to pay, getting back to the bike, neck warmer on, helmet on, gloves on, waiting for your riding partner and so on. A process that takes about 20 minutes to complete. Time consuming. We filled our tanks, then suddenly I heard all sorts of profanity coming from the other side of the bowser. “Fuel’s pissing out everywhere!”
Torsten now had a fuel leak. I would have helped him out, but I went straight for the camera to catch the action on film. After some help from the staff at the station and about an hour an a half lost, we hit the road. Pulling over up ahead, we decided to test my external tank. Once the fuel tap was turned, however, fuel started gushing out of mine. Would we ever see an end to these problems? Another hour and a half later, we were finally on the way to our destination for that day, Buladelah.
After an hour of solid riding, I was finding myself quite thirsty and so pulled over at a rest stop to find some water. Neither of us had thought to fill our water bladders or carry any water for that matter. I searched frantically for a tap, to no avail, yet found a lovely couple, Noel and Elizabeth Austin, that gave both of us a lemonade. We filled them in on what this trip was all about, thanked them for their kind gesture and pushed on. Unfortunately, due to my lack of organisation before the trip, we had to stop in at Port Macquarie (24km unnecessary riding) to withdraw cash and organise a new ATM card. Mine was having trouble swiping brought on by an impression in the magnetic strip caused by the button on my wallet.
Performance picked up on the bikes in the last 20km of our journey. With the setting sun our enemy, we had to turn in early. Cundletown (just near Taree) was our home for the evening. I pulled us in to the first motel we saw and were met by Richard the Barista. He offered us a 10% discount because he thought we were selling coffee. It might have been the Aztec Coffee Co. sponsorship plastered all over the bikes that gave him that impression. But when he found out what we were really up to he jumped in to offer, “we’ll make it $50 and I’ll shout you guys dinner in the restaurant!” We couldn’t turn that down, could we?
All dressed up in our finest dirty jeans, scuffed boots and reaking of petrol from the days earlier disasters, we sat down at table #1 and took our time reviewing the menu. The only patrons we were somewhat guilty that Richard had kept the kitchen open for us. We had a chat and even signed a copy of our media release for him, that now has pride of place, framed in office of the motel. You meet the nicest people on a scooter … 241km Speedo – 251km GPS