Head Of The Hunter

This entry is part 6 of 22 in the series Adventure Rider Issue #2

What started out as a two-man, one-day ride to redeem a rider’s fallen pride ended up as seven riders out to photograph the headwaters of the Hunter River in NSW.

Most of us don’t need an excuse to go for a ride, but we have to come up with some kind of believable justification for our Significant Other. These reasons can, at times, be quite spectacular. In this case the need to complete a section which had got the better of me once before would’ve been perfectly obvious to any rider with even the tiniest levels of testosterone, but I suspected the motivation might not have carried the same urgency with others in my household, so something a little more Bear Grylls was called for.

“We’ll search for the source of Hunter River,” I declared, “Like the African explorers of old searching for the source of The Nile!”

Whether or not this was credited as a “good reason to go riding” I elected not to find out. I packed my clobber and rode off into history.

Different strokes

This particular ride sprung out of the need to re-ride the first day of the 2013 APC Rally, hopefully without the dramas of our last attempt.

The contenders for this jaunt were four blokes from Sydney and three Hunter Valley locals. Three of the bikes trailered up from The Big Smoke for the 8:00am kick off. Laguna, our start point, was halfway between Bucketty and Wollombi, about 50km west of the NSW Central Coast region and on the edge of the much-loved Watagans. The aim of the two days was obviously to have fun, but also for the country bumpkins to show the city slickers a bit of their backyard.

There was no consistency in bike brand or size. Weapons of choice for the boys from the bush were a KTM 950 Adventure, a nice, shiny, new Triumph 800XC Tiger and a city slickers fronted a Husqvarna TE630, another KTM 690, the KTM 690 Enduro R, while the bulletproof Suzuki DR650 and the mighty BMW R1200GS Adventure. Everyone was looking forward to watching the performance of the various steeds over the two days.

The only “real” (ride-it-fromhome) city slicker adventure rider was Curley on the big Beemer.

Kit cat

The group rolled straight into the bush on the Boree Valley Road west of the Watagans National Park. It was nice, easy going, but bloody dusty. Curley had just oiled his riding gear and within a couple of minutes he looked a bit like a bull who throws dust all over himself to show who’s top dog…or bull, I guess. Excellent open, free-flowing trails led on to the Putty Road for a blast down the tar, and then the really interesting riding kicked off at the Putty Creek Road beginning the run through Wollemi National Park. For the smaller bikes the next few hours were an absolute blast filled with all the usual fare: rocks, hills and dozens of drainage humps – all quite fast and lots of opposite-lock and air time.

As lead rider, I had clean air and made good time, but waiting to drop off a corner man for 15 minutes or so seemed a bit long, so back down the track I went to see what was wrong. Leaving the corner men in place as I passed, I rode back about 20km before I came across the Triumph with a flat front tyre. That’s not usually a problem, except Triumph must be so confident of its machinery that the stock toolkit doesn’t include the gear needed to remove the front wheel.

Pete admitted he should’ve checked that before launching off into the bush, but it’s not an unreasonable expectation for a new-bike owner to think the tools for basic maintenance would be on board. Tiger riders be aware.

Flat out

So what do you do in this situation? Just patch the existing tube with the wheel in the bike of course.

All up this simple flat cost about two hours. After a bit of a powwow four riders went on to attempt our planned course for the day with the intention of a regroup at the pub at Moonan Flat that night.

The puncture boys, via the tar, got into the pub just one beer ahead of the hardcore group. One of the less experienced riders became quite dizzy and ill during the latter part of the afternoon. He hadn’t carried a hydration pack and most likely suffered from dehydration. One would hope the lesson has been learned and from now on a drinker will be part of his essential kit.

A result

The Victoria Hotel at Moonan Flat is a great place to stay. It’s a real country pub that boasts some history from the days of Thunderbolt the bushranger.

On Monday nights the restaurant is usually closed, but they opened up for us and provided a typical country pub meal. These rural boys sure know how to eat!

It was supposed to be an early start next morning, but a sore head or two and a photo shoot slowed things down a bit. The crew did finally get away and headed up to the snow country of the Barrington Tops.

Of course we really did have to try and find the elusive spring that is the real start of the mighty Hunter River. Questions were bound to be asked and we’d need proof. I’d been there before, so locating the source was no real problem, but it’d been a bit dry lately and the beautiful bubbling spring I’d seen on previous trips was now just a dried-up pond. Nevertheless, we took a shot or two next to the moss-covered seep which qualifies as the ‘Head of the Hunter’, and thus proved our explorational prowess and had some photographic evidence of our expedition’s success for when it was requested.

One more for the road

Another powwow was called when a broken throttle cable had to be dealt with and it was decided not to go too deep into the bush.

One of the good things about this part of the world is there’s always lots of choice. Instead of heading east into the wilds we headed to Nundle, via Glenrock and Barry Stations. If you haven’t done this run, then do yourself a favour sometime and give it a crack. The route takes you past Ellerston (the Packer property). You’ll be amazed as you gaze over the chain-wire fence and take in the panorama of the small township and manicured polo grounds that are part of the Kerry Packer legacy.

Once you leave the splendour of Ellerston the real riding begins. If I counted correctly there were 21 creek crossings. What a ride!

It was a while since I’d last done this trip and I’d forgotten just how good it is. The big bikes especially just loved the sweeping uphill terrain as we climbed out of the valley to top out at Hanging Rock, 1300m up.

After a quick lunch at Nundle it was time to head south again, and the Crawney Pass offered a great run before the slickers headed back down the tar while the hayseeds blasted off into the bush again for one last injection of creeks, rocks and roost.

Philosophy

With 945km on the clock we arrived home having not broken a bike, and the APC bogey man who whacked me with a tree last time through there had been well and truly put in his place.

So which bike was best? As one of the boys said, “The best bike is the one you’re on today”. Ain’t that the truth.

Do you remember your first Adventure ride?

I do. It was a trip to Barrington Tops in winter on a Honda 90. Did I have fun? You bet! Was the bike a challenge? You bet! Did I come back for more? You bet!

Who cares what bike you’re on. Get off the lounge, scrape the cow dung off the ag bike, borrow your grandma’s scooter, or hop on your brand-new, fully blinged, personalised machine – but just get out there and let the adventure begin.