The women of GV Social Riders who joined the group ride in honour of International Women’s Day stopped for a stretch at Colbinabbin silos.
Photo by
Bree Harding
Skittish sheep bounced from hoof to hoof considering whether to hold their ground or take flight as 11 motorcycles roared past their fenceline.
Hold tight - we’re checking permissions before loading more content
The smell of petrichor and damp eucalypt was heavy in the air.
GV Social Riders member Margie Hodge confidently took the reins of her steel horse, navigating through puddles and potholed Victorian roads as I relaxed, like Lady Muck, a pillion princess perched behind her on the comfortable Can-Am Spyder.
News journalist Bree Harding rides pillion on Margie Hodge’s Can-Am Spyder.
Photo by
Bree Harding
We were somewhere between Mooroopna and Axedale on a group ride.
Not that this active crew needs an excuse for a group ride, but this one was in honour of International Women’s Day.
A woman co-ordinated the ride, another acted as ride leader, another took on the role of TEC — or Tail End Charlie — while several more rode (and a few others hitched rides, like yours truly) between them.
There were a handful of men in the mix, too.
The ride to the Axedale Tavern was pleasant.
Riders stop for lunch at the Axedale Tavern.
Photo by
Bree Harding
The drizzle subsided and patches of blue sky appeared between the clouds as we passed Waranga Basin, rode through Rushworth and on to Moora.
We stopped at Colbinabbin for photos in front of the town’s impressive silo art before carrying on towards our destination, turning off the highway to take some roads a little less travelled.
We wound through vineyards and gum-lined trees near Cornella and Toolleen before emerging on roads bordered by open plains, where the wind swept across the cropping fields whipping wildly at our helmets and putting our neck muscles to the test.
Birds of prey hovered and circled above.
As a passenger, I had the luxury of taking my eyes off the road.
I could tilt my head to the sky and get a view unobscured by a car’s roof and watch them as they hunted.
Flocks of ducks flapped their wings furiously as they seemingly raced alongside our convoy of bikes above bodies of water off to the side.
Pretty. So long as they stayed over there.
I can only imagine the damage a duck to the chest at 100km/h on a bike would cause.
While speeds like that feel faster on a bike than they do in a car, somehow everything you see on the road is like you’re viewing it in slow motion.
I’ve driven these roads, but I noticed things I never had before from the heated seat of Margie’s reverse trike.
Minute detail can be seen far better than from inside the confines of a car, even though there’s a helmet on your head.
The sounds of the bush can be heard, even above the roar of the engines.
The weather can be felt, even though strong, sturdy safety gear covers every inch of your body.
The women who joined GV Social Riders’ International Women’s Day ride on March 1 pose under the ‘It’s 5 o’clock somewhere’ hedge wall at the Axedale Tavern.
Photo by
Bree Harding
The sweet smells of nature penetrate your helmet, even though your visor is down.
And perhaps a downside, the not-so-sweet smells of nature can also be tasted, such as the roadkill that litters the edges.
Rotting ’roos in rigor mortis on random roadside bends are a stark reminder of the risks riders face on the road, on their vehicles void of steel outer frames and fibreglass shells that offer a higher level of protection from impacts with wildlife.
But that’s a trade-off the motorcyclists comfortably take for the freedom they feel when they mount their leather saddles.
Their focus is sharp and their full cache of senses engaged, while they’re hyper aware of their own presence and others’ on the road.
Those essential skills were needed for the rainy trip home after a delicious lunch, sweet live music from Louise MacGregor and thoughtful International Women’s Day packs gifted to all the women present by ride co-ordinator Possum Green at the Axedale Tavern.
We rolled safely but soaked back to Mooroopna, thankfully after no run-ins with rogue ’roos, but still one last reminder of our vulnerability on bikes to keep us all alert.
A frightened stray dog charged at the leader of our pack on the Murchison-Toolamba Rd before being tooted away towards its home.
And my own home, with a warm shower waiting, was a welcome sight when I rolled up the driveway, a huge smile on my face after a brilliant day spent with a welcoming group of local riders.
27°C