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RAINClub Ride March 1 0th 201 3

Peter Hubach

The long weekend ride to Donnelly River did not have the support of club members and was

cancelled. This left l ittle time to plan the club ride for March. Kim suggested that I help him put

together a route the weekend before the ride was due. The late summer weather was perfect

and Geoff volunteered to come along and record the ride detai ls on his fondleslab.

I t’s challenging to find destinations and roads within a day’s ride of Perth that have not been

visited by the club. I think we managed it with this ride to Wickepin. The name is supposed to

be of aboriginal origin, but no one knows what it means. The pre-ride took place in clear sunny

conditions. The wheat belt country desiccated and crunchy-brown after a long, hot summer.

There was a grass fire starting on the edge of Narrogin as we approached. This quickly

escalated with flames reaching about three metres high before the local fire teams got it under

control.

The day of the ride was cool and wet, a complete

change of weather from the previous few weeks.

The inclement conditions and the the general lack

of interest for the Donnelly River ride did not bode

well for a good turn out for this ride and only six

were prepared to face the drizzle at Kelmscott.

Well done Kim, Geoff, Nick K, Craig and Fred.

As the Beatles put it in Rubber Sole. . .

If the rain comes they run and hide their

heads.

They might as well be dead.

If the rain comes, if the rain comes.

When the sun shines they slip into the shade

(When the sun shines down.)

And sip their lemonade.

(When the sun shines down.)

When the sun shines, when the sun shines.

Rain, I don't mind.

Shine, the world looks fine.

I can show you that when it starts to rain,

(When the Rain comes down.)

Everything’s the same.

The dark clouds lurked over the Darl ing Scarp as we ascended into the Jarrah forest. Up past

the charcoal scarred slopes and re-built homes of the tree-changers. The forest looked grim and

grey in this weather, l ike something out of a fairy tale, wolves leering from behind the blackened

trunks. I t was a rel ief when the Brookton Highway broke through to the wheat belt. I t rained, not

enough to warrant the wet weather gear. Anyway, it wasn’t cold and the humidity meant that

riders were just as wet inside their rubberised nylon as those brave souls who had eschewed

protective clothing.

At the turnoff to Pingelly, we stopped

to adjust clothing and empty

bladders, it was important to get that

order right. In Pingelly city centre

there was no one on the street. The

only activity was the local SES,

sweating in yel low rubber trousers as

they attempted to break in to the high

school for some emergency exercise.

Maybe that’s why there was no one

on the streets, they had all been told

to stay in doors?

The road from Pingelly to Wickepin is

rather scenic and has some lovely

stretches where some people could

ride motorcycles much faster than what

is legal ly al lowed. I t would be possible,

for example, to test the top speed of

your new Kawasaki rocket, wouldn’t it

Nick? There was also about three

kilometres of road work gravel road.

This was all straight and had a hard

packed under surface, interestingly

topped by drifts of ball bearing sized

gravel. I took Craig’s advice and rode it

faster than I would normally and it felt

much better.

The Wickepin café provided a friendly venue

for morning tea. The young ladies were

very apologetic that the espresso coffee

machine had broken since our visit on the

pre-ride. Geoff took the opportunity to re-

assure them, for quite a long time. After

instant coffee we took solace in wandering

around Albert Facey’s house across the

road. I t was moved here in 2000. Young

Albert l ived in it with his family from 1 922 to

1 934. When we departed Wickepin, it was

raining.

A few kilometres west of Wickepin is Tarl ing

Well . This was built about 1 905 and is a

stone lined construction near a water

course. The area is much degraded and it

would have looked very different a hundred

years ago. Then, the water would have

been clear and fresh, not l ike the murky

green muck that it contains today. Despite

the rain, the much eroded creek beside the

well was not running. Somehow, the water

level in the well appeared higher than in the

creek. I t stopped raining and that was the

last rain we had on this trip, though the

weather remained determinedly grey.

As we approached Narrogin, the burnt paddock from the previous week’s fire looked bleak and

from another time. The damp stubble certainly wouldn’t burn today. The country from here to

Quindanning appeared to be exhausted from a long hot summer. I t was resting, enjoying the

change of season in quiet repose. Soon there would be winter and real, rejuvenating rain.

There were few motorcycles outside the Quindanning pub, probably the result of the weather. At

least this meant that our meals arrived pretty quick. Fred, Nick and Craig, al l l iving in the affluent

western suburbs, decided that they didn’t want to continue with the ride which was heading back

east. They chose the Dwell ingup route back to the South West Highway. Unfortunately there

was road works on Dell Park Road which, because of the rain, was rather muddy. Fred’s new

Fire Blade and Nick’s new Kawasaki got covered in brown gunk.

The next day, Nick put the

soiled Kawasaki on front

and rear paddock stands to

give it a thorough wash.

When he removed the rear

stand, the bike rol led

forwards and lay down on

its right side, scraping the

now nicely clean exhausts

on the driveway. For some

reason, Nick didn’t take a

photo of the event.

Kim, Geoff and I , the remaining members of the club ride, fol lowed the planned, roadwork and

mud free route through Boddington and then east, back to Pingelly, where there were sti l l no

people on the street. Up to Brookton and along the Avon Valley through Beverley and then the

top road to York. I t was late afternoon when we pulled in to The Lakes for the end of the trip.

We had ridden over 500km that day through some sombre landscapes but general ly it was good

riding weather. Craig had remarked that this was the best sort of weather for motorcycling, not

hot, not cold, not windy and not very wet. We enjoyed our ride. I t would have been good to

have more company but, as the Beatles sang in the rest of the song. . .

I can show you, I can show you.

Rain, I don't mind.

Shine, the world looks fine.

Can you hear me, that when it rains and shines,

(When it Rains and shines. )

It's just a state ofmind?

(When it rains and shines. )

Can you hear me, can you hear me?

If the rain comes they run and hide their heads.

(Rain)

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