| Hi achternaam, If we weren't already the laughing stock of the South Pacific, we are about to be. What self-respecting country counts blokes called Scomo and Albo as key leaders? Cringe..... At least we didn't end up with a Prime Minister that pronounces 'with' as - "Wiv".
It's a tough job but the responsibility falls to me to test, refine and grow our range of goodies. Sometimes I enlist a mate to help out when we have competing gear to trial back to back. In the course of doing so, we regularly have interesting rides as there is no sense in taking the same route each time. | As we ride the countryside we often pass turn-offs and say to ourselves, "I wonder what's up there?" If you promise not to let too many people in on it, I'll share a recent discovery that the Blue Bros and I made in far East Gippsland. If you tell too many people there'll be a rash of dumb prangs and the coppers will start hiding in camo gear in the bush with radars. Most of you will have passed the sign to Club Terrace just south of Cann River. I know I've been past it dozens of times. The map showed it leading to the locality of Combienbar then across the border into New South Wheels and popped out between Frosty Delegate and Bitter Cold Bombala. The plan was that the two Ginger Gents and I would see if it did indeed represent the excellent 50:50, Dual-Sport ride it promised. Scrawn and I left Mudbourne and pushed hard to outrun a storm that dumped hail and bucketed rain. As we turned north-east Huey continued to remind us just how easy it would be for him to dump on us – Big Time! Somehow we just stayed in drizzle or threateningly huge but infrequent drops until Orbost. |  |
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Hail at the Beach, ABC Photo.
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Meanwhile, Galah's Kato mothership failed to proceed... From the garage. He cancelled our rendevouz and set up a meeting the next morning. A quick look at the rain radar (isn't technology terrific when it works) suggested that camping and white water rafting might be one-and-the-same adventures so we opted for a dry bed at the Bellbird Hotel near Cabbage Tree Creek. Not overly welcoming, basic but clean, it sheltered from the maelstrom that finally caught us. Thunder, cats, and dogs belted down on the roof all night. Comforted by Sailor's Grave craft tipple we congratulated ourselves on our sudden surge of sensible decision-making. | 
Leaf litter and fallen trees greeted us on the Combienbar Road. |
After a hearty breakfast back at the Cabbage Tree Cafe (recommended), we headed north some 30 klicks and took that intriguing turn-off. A tight winding bitumen road cuts its way through a gorgeous valley that showed evidence of White Fella settlement going back quite a long time. Timber getters and Gold Miners faded to graziers as the years progressed. About the time the ribbon of black-top frays into gravel, a bizarre collection of derelict, identical buildings fills a paddock on our right. | 
No, we didn't carry a chainsaw. |
The riding reinforced just how smart we were 'holing up' at the pub. Leaf and bark litter covered the road, branches of various sizes made for very cautious proceeding. Plan B was to turn around if the dirt roads we came across were risky as a result of the weather but all was good apart from the occasional, unmistakable, sandy, sinking feeling of the front wheel dipping into a muddy patch. Once or twice we became passengers, slipping a couple of metres downhill. We had few issues as we popped out over the border south of Craigie, in dry conditions most road-based adventure bikes would make an easy job of the ride. Yes, indeedy we'd found a new route (to us anyhoo) from East Gippsland to Bombala, the Baby Bonang? From the moment we left Club Terrace we saw more intriguing roads branching off both sides and made plans to sneak up on them and have look, maybe when it's not so wet! | 
