Last weekend a pack of reprobates, made up of about nineteen bike riders including myself, took it upon ourselves to terrorise the Great Southern of Western Australia and boost the local economy by consuming ludicrous amounts of petrol, red bull, coffee, alcohol and hayfever tablets.
Turning off to Quindanning
After some of us took the *ahem* scenic route, there was some consultation of the maps at Boyup Brook
Five miles out of Boyup Brook, there was some additional map checking…
Okay, who’s responsible for this?
Kicking back at the Franklin roadhouse
Making friends with the wildlife
and generally wanting to know if we were there yet
The temperature dropped like Simon’s pants between Franklin and Mount Barker
Eventually we hit Albany and found somewhere that could fit nineteen people for dinner
After a successful career in literature, Wally retired to the great south of Western Australia where he enjoyed a quiet and simple life, only bothered occasionally by visiting motorcyclists
The road to nowhere… and back again
Taking it easy in Denmark for lunch on Saturday
Is that the one with the donkey and the chambermaid?
Cols opts for the lazy approach to visor cleaning
He’s using what to lube the chain?
The Amity. Just like The Amityville Horror, but without the ‘ville’, or the Horror. Well, without the ‘ville’ anyway.
(blurry pic courtesy of the rain being drawn to the warm glow of my camera lens)
And after having out very own 130kmh police escort for the 150km or so from Williams back to Armadale, we waved them goodbye.
Adieu, adieu. Parting is such sweet sorrow.