Well I was so excited about my latest motorcycle purchase that I forgot to relay my latest adventure in this eminent tome of pissedoffiness.
On Friday I knocked off work (pissed off early) at midday, and just for a change, drove direct to Bairnsdale (my home town) to visit my mum and finish off the BMW R1200C fuel tank I've been de-rusting and replacing the fuel pump assembly, etc. The lady owner had paid my cousin for the work, so I needed to get the tank reassembled and back to her.
Instead of driving to Melbourne then on to Bairnsdale, I elected to drive through Cooma, Bombala, Cann River, Orbost, then on to Bairnsdale. The only problem was, I missed the turnoff to Bombala, but as Bega was only another 60 Kms (35 miles) from the Bombala turnoff, I decided to continue on, as I was enjoying the drive, and another hour or so wouldn't mess with my loose itinery.
What I wasn't aware of, was a down hill stretch that made the "Dragons Tail" look like a 3 lane highway. Fark! Seriously, the mass of 15 MPH corners would have made Valentino Rossi schidt himself, and by the time I was halfway down the mountain the brakes on my little Subaru were cooked, and non functional. It was like the disc pads were self lubricating, the harder I pushed the brake pedal, the faster I went!
It's got an auto transmission, so all I could do was use the "Lock" button which apparently locks the transmission in second gear for driving in snow, and I used the handbrake (which has an expanding drum within the rear discs) which, while I couldn't actually stop, retarded my manic progress ever so slightly.
When I arrived in Bairnsdale my older sister and my cuz came over with some Chinese takeaway, and when I told them about my adventure my mum said she thought that place was called "Brown Mountain" which I assumed referred to the "Brown Mountain" I'd deposited in my trousers when I was sailing thru the corners at twice or three times the posted speed, with no farking brakes! Luckily for me there was little traffic, or I would definitely have either collected someone, or gone off the sheer drops on the other side.
The rest of the drive was uneventful, and it was a bit of a trip down memory lane driving thru Eden where I spent several camping holidays with my family back in the 1960's and early 1970's, the place really hasn't changed much, the "Garden of Eden" camp park is still there and still operating, and the main street doesn't look any different after almost 50 years, amazing.
So apart from almost killing myself, (which pissed me off, if I do ever kill myself, I want it to be on purpose, and preferably whilst banging a supermodel when I'm in my 90's) it wasn't a bad drive, although I won't be doing it again any time soon...............