Waking up to a glorious sunny morning here in Adelaide I decided to head down to Victor Harbor. I had a quick look over a map while having my caffeine hit before heading out the door.
I found my way out of Adelaide and to the coastal road. It wasn’t long before I was riding through pretty seaside towns and enjoying beautiful ocean views.
It didn’t take me long to get lost. AGAIN! Though lost is a harsh word. I did make to Victor Harbor, I’m just not sure how I got there.
One minute I’m riding along the coast, breathing in fresh sea air, the next I’m bumping along a rough stretch of road through dairy country in between two other motorcyclists.
Two of us peeled off as we arrived in Victor Harbor and found ourselves parking next to each other.
Mr Glen introduced himself. We stood and chatted by our bikes. He was riding an immaculate 25 year old FXR stroker– 89 cubic inch. In his words, it’s had everything done to it that you can poke a stick at’. We walked over to a nearby pub and continued our conversation over a nice cold beer.
I decided to tag along back to Adelaide with Mr Glen on the promise of riding one of the best roads the area had to offer.
It wasn’t long after we climbed out of Victor Harbor on our way to Delamere that the promise was delivered. Ridiculous smooth surfaces, sweeping 65km to 80km bends, one after another. No traffic.
Now I’m not a religious woman but it was like Moses had parted the land, created a near perfect black strip of bitumen , laid it to rest in between lush green rolling hills and the ocean and said ‘let there be chrome’.
We threw caution to the wind, twisted on the throttles and just hit it. After towing a trailer across flat plains and cruising around the Adelaide Hills I had the need for speed. The adrenalin rush hit, I found my rhythm, and shouted that old cliché ‘now that’s what I’m talking about’.
I was still smiling when Mr Glen pulled over. ‘Great ride aye’ he proclaimed. I was speechless (that doesn’t happen very often) but it was a day for miracles.