The Socket File: Gentleman Tourer
Finally, I’ve made the break and bought a Japanese motorbicycle. I needed to make a journey to Queensland and decided the Francis Barnett wasn’t up to the task. As the weather was sublime, I told my man Ivan to lock up the Sheerline and take his well-earned holidays while I ventured northwards.
The reason for my journey can be made public now that the daily newspapers have broken silence. In honorable and vigilant pursuit of the perfect state, the Queensland police have started a Thought Police Division. Basically the idea is to monitor one’s heartbeat and breath rate from a distance so potential lawbreakers can be picked up even while they are laying down their foul plots against the community. A tearaway cycle rider could be arrested while he was still planning to exceed the speed limit.
As yet the department is embryonic, but it’s headed by the brilliant law enforcement consultant Brigadier Cuthbert Thugge-ÂCholmondeley. The really hard work has been done by a young genius from the EEC country of Italy. His ability with electronics is amazing and his new device can monitor all bodily functions at a distance of 100 metres from the front seat of a police car. His name is Gino Lollobrigida and you’ll be hearing a lot more of this young man and his work with law enforcement agencies.
My part in the scheme is small. As an expert in cryptography (code breaking) and also, as a journalist, I have been asked to establish a simple language for the Queensland police so instructions can be shouted from one officer to another, during riots and periods of civil disturbance, in a totally new language. That way, only the police will know what they’re talking about. I’m working on a series of meaningful grunts, but can say no more for security reasons.
But I’m wandering off the subject. It was necessary to choose my motorbicycle carefully for the journey to Brisbane. It needed to be a machine that would carry me and my dinner suit (with a few odds and ends for the journey) in comfort.
At this stage I must point out that I disagree with another columnist in this publication. Young Mister Kel Wearne constantly rabbits on about his fast interstate trips with large capacity motorbicycles.
Unfortunately, Mr Wearne, you’ve missed the entire point when it comes to interstate travelling by cycle. Unlike cars, motorbicycles aren’t hampered by windscreens and other cage-like structures around the traveller. For this reason it’s possible to travel and also look around and enjoy the scenery and wildlife which abounds over much of our wonderful country. To ride, nose thrust between the instruments, as fast as possible from one major city to another is to completely waste the joys of touring by cycle.
Personally, I wanted a machine which would tour happily at 50 or 60 km/h. This is a sensible speed because one can relax and enjoy the trees and birds.
I chose the Honda 90 Interstate. Smooth, comfortable, economical and able to sustain a cruising speed of 60 km/h on the toughest expressway. It has been fitted with sturdy luggage racks front and rear, 2.75 x 17 high performance tyres and the ability to carry extra fuel.
The day for my·journey arrived and I left home with considerable excitement and anticipation. Dawn was just kissing the horizon as my trusty new steed surged down the road and onto the highway north. Within a few hours I’d reached the expressway and the kilometres were rolling under my special Ginseng tyres as they surefootedly hummed along. At the impressive Hawkesbury river I stopped for a little breakfast of Wry-Veeta and Lobsang Rampa tea. It only took a few moments to set up my picnic table and chair (in the interests of travelling light I only carried one chair), and spread my repast from the Fortnum and Masons hamper that I wouldn’t be without.
Lunchtime came around as I buzzed into Newcastle on the first day and I can recommend the cuisine at the Wun Fun Chuk Chinese restaurant and Pest Control Centre on the highway.
In a matter of a few days the time and distance had whizzed beneath my tyres and I was sipping a Dacquiri in the Investor’s Club on the Gold Coast. The journey had been easy with nightly stops carefully restricted to towns with a three-star hotel. The highlight of the journey was my night in Port Macquarie where I had to rough it. Mosquitos kept me awake the entire night as I was subjected to the full force of the elements. This is a harsh and rugged country; I doubt if a person can say he’s really a man unless he’s roughed it in the wild. I had never stayed at a motel before. It was hell.
The little Honda has shown its mettle as a long distance tourer, and the Interstate version of this admirable machine (with the 2.75 x 17 tyres) proved my point about “Interstate blasting” as young Mr Wearne would put it.
Road testers in the magazine frequently make disparaging remarks about frame flex. Generally they just don’t know what they are talking about. A little frame flex is a useful thing when you’re winding through a mountain pass. Less time is spent turning the handlebars from side to side to take the corners.
If the flex is understood – and obviously the testers don’t understand its purpose – the machine can be handled through the tightest bends with just a touch on the bars, the frame flex taking care of the corners.
Along the way I noticed a few radar traps which had been carefully placed so they didn’t distract motorists. They were always just over the crest of a hill, or on a long, straight stretch of road where they couldn’t possibly cause an inexperienced motorist to run out of control through surprise.
I stopped at one of the radar traps because I noticed the car had been parked amongst the trees and the policeman in charge was standing with a pair of binoculars around his neck. I had been listening to the bellbirds as I rode and thought it was pleasant to see a young policeman spending his lunchbreak observing nature. He told me he’d seen some “fantastic” birds during his period at the roadside.
He also told me it had been necessary to step up the number of bookings made with radar. The new radar machines are very expensive to buy and unless revenue increases, the policemen have been told they won’t be given any more. How wonderful, I thought, that we should have the spirit of free enterprise amongst the police. If this attitude prevails, instead of the namby-pamby softÂhearted socialist approach, the police force could even pay for itself.
The ride to Brisbane only took a week and I arrived refreshed and ready for the rigors of the road on the way south. Unfortunately a bad turn in the All-Ordinaries index forced me to fly home.
But, still, I say when it comes to touring, I’m a small-bore man myself!
By Brian Woodward. Two Wheels, February 1979
