Tales from the Dukside:- The Tilmouth Tango.
Tilmouth Roadhouse is just a short 188k ride on the Tanami Hwy and doesn’t usually attract many riders to come out. Thus was the case when Crackers lobbed at Liberty Servo and sat with nobody on the curb waiting for the multitude that is I to turn up. 9am start but wait, is that the sound of Neverready’s Road King? Yep, 3’s a good number so on the road we go.
Now this is not the most exciting piece of tar but alertness is a good thing with Grey Nomads and Road Trains taking up most of the single lane sections. The road is more straight than a Jacks on the rocks but the ranges are painted in colours of pale dried grass, purple and browns, with grassy plains in front creating a 3k corridor of open views from the saddle, awesome. A couple of burnt wrecks along the way shows the bush mechanics had some frustrations as we sat behind 4 followers of the Leyland Brothers with camp trailers and no lane to overtake them. A roadside stop at the 140k mark put some distance between us.
Once gloves were warmed on the cylinder heads it was time to move again. Just 10k down the road a Cement Haulin’ son of the steering wheel was stopped in the middle of the single strip of imitation highway changing out a dolly. Stainsy’s Transport doin’ the right thing, the verges are soft an Likely to cause difficulties in the exchange. Kick down into off-road gear and passed off the left bank.
40k’s out the gates of throttle open to 2 lanes of bitumen in prestine condition. With the tail wind on full tap it was a chance to put in a faster final approach. A familiar Fat Boy stood alone at the front of the Roadhouse, and no sooner did one step off the leather and chrome the eyes came upon Perfect Peter and Jeanette. A naughty night out apparently! They’d ridden out yesterday and spent the night, “Say No More!”.
Analysis:- The big breakfast is a BIG breakfast and at just $19.50 a plate it was worth the ride out. Next time come out to play wowsers! Just coz it was a old 17 degrees doesn’t mean it isn’t a good day to ride.
The way home was mostly the same as going out but with one extra bike. I should put in a good word for the many oncoming cars that slowed down as we crossed paths but likewise “Stay home you arseholes who kept up the 100kph throwing up red dust and rocks in your wake”. A black feral cat rushed across from left to right. Peter at the front swerved across to see if he could hit it dodged back at the last minute wondering if it is worth the claws dug into his calves as the front wheel flicked the savage feline up. Another great day out.
Til next ride, punks. Duktape.