OK. I will admit it. I didn’t finish the 2,500km I said I would. Am I disappointed? Yes and no.
Lets rewind the clock a little to the beginning of the year when I decided to do this crazy thing called the “Hardcore Postie Bike Challenge”.
“So, George has come up with this Postie Bike ride thing,” laughed Daniel. “I dunno, but it sounds like a laugh…”
“Yeh, totally,” I reply. “Lets do it!”
And there, my friends, was my first mistake. Committing to something I didn’t even know about. But hey, it sounded fun – riding a Postie bike into the country. If anyone has seen The Long Way Around, you would know what I’m talking about. Just think adventure – what boy wouldn’t want an adventure?
As the weeks and months passed, the adventure was looming. We set ourselves a target of $3,000 to raise for MS and it was time to go get some riding gear.
We packed waay too much gear
Glenn is a shop assistant at MCA (Motor Cycle Accessories) in Auburn NSW. He helped us buy the right gear and just by luck, he happened to have also committed to the same ride we were doing. Well half of it…
Glenn has done quite a few Postie bike rides, and this is when alarm bells should have started ringing in my head. He was putting his Postie in his van and driving down to the Victorian High Country, which is where the official ride was taking place. We had decided to ride down there from the Blue Mountains, which we thought would take two days.
“These guys [who organised the ride] are hardcore man,” Glenn would tell us. “They are basically a bunch of farmers looking for some thrills so you guys are in for a something.”
With some new riding gear, we walked away not even thinking of the troubles we might run into. But boy were we wrong.
Fully Loaded.
The last thing I should have thought about before leaving on this trip was the fact that I hadn’t ridden a motorbike for at least three years prior to the trip starting. But hey, it’s a Postie bike right? And my lack of skills showed as soon as I left the Blue Mountains that cold and rainy morning.
Riding up a residential street, I was wobbling left and right trying to keep myself upright. I thought I was going to die then and there! We would later realise that being city folk, we had packed way too much luggage, and all that extra weight over the front handle bars made the bikes harder to ride than a unicycle over a tightrope. Even the most experienced of us was having trouble.
The Mountainside was beautiful.
From there it just went downhill. Just as I was getting used to the bike, I would stack it. In fact, I stacked it three times in the first four hours of riding. It wasn’t the most proud moment of my life.
Now with a limp, we pushed on and without much planning things turned from bad to worse. We had planned the first two days to be some “easy” riding, but with a failed GPS, we ended up getting lost. We planned on riding 450km on the first day, but ended up riding closer to 650. Then it got dark and the road turned into dirt.
Once the GPS failed on us, we reverted to the old school way of things.
Riding in the dark isn’t the smartest thing, especially out in the bush. I can be proud to say that I survived this leg of the trip. Having witnessed a van hit a wombat right next to us was a big wake up call on just how stupid it was for us to be riding that late at night through bushland.
Dirt and bush... not my favourite roads.
Wombats are small but solid, and even at 40km/h, hitting one would surely put us in hospital. Adding to that, my headlights would dim every time I used the brakes so it was hard to see more than 10m ahead of me. Oh, did I mention I had never ridden on dirt before?
In the end, we made it. We rode 16 hours straight, and I had never been in so much pain in my life. Bruised and battered, I woke up the next morning not able to walk properly. It seemed that my body had been fuelled on adrenaline, and the next morning, the toll on my body from crashing my bike three times (I had flipped over the handle bars at 40km/h on gravel), it was obvious I couldn’t continue.
Pitstop for fuel at Mt Hotham.
The funny part about all of this was that we still went to our destination to meet up with the rest of the Posties, gathering together in Carboor VIC. What we went through was definitely hard, but what these guys get up to is downright unbelievable.
Glenn was right, hardcore didn’t even measure up what these guys were wanting to do. Crossing rivers at temperatures close to zero. Pushing the bikes up mountainsides that are too steep to ride. Then, coming back down the mountains on tiny dirt trails with cliff face on one side, and a 2,000m drop on the other.
The collection of Postie Bikes in Dargo VIC.
I’m disappointed that I didn’t get to do what I said I would. I’m normally a man of my word, and when I commit to something, I always follow through. But committing to this trip was a little silly given my experience, and I definitely didn’t want to die.
Many others pulled out, some with broken legs and collarbones. I would have died, that is a guarantee!
Some of the colours of the country are just stunning.
But I definitely don’t regret the trip. I saw some amazing countryside – Australia truly is a beautiful place. I met some crazy people and I endured a challenge, one that will stay up there for a while at least.
So on an endnote, Printer Workz managed to raise over $4,000 for the cause, and together with our group of four, we raised over $6,000. So judging from your response, it seems that it was only me who thought I would have it easy…
