We were up at Sparrows fart the next morning, although after the Colonel’s new Zinger the night before, I cannot actually be sure the sparrows were responsible! Back on the road, Lakes Entrance passes beneath our wheels and the opportunity arises to push the outside of the envelope a little. Hey, these new tyres are terrific, my machine is now handling as well as Bob’s U Model. The Princes Highway hardly demands racetrack ground clearance but, nevertheless, I am reminded that I have hardly grounded the Centre Stand since I sliced the rubber stop in half. This is all to the good as Marilyn was forever accusing me of ‘hooning’ when I grounded the stand. I frequently grounded the foot pegs on Bob’s FJ1200U on the old Gosford Road, but on this bike the centre stand always seemed to hit the deck first.

Despite its quirks, I loved this bike. It was smooth and so powerful. Overtake? Just open the throttle and whoosh, where did the traffic go? Oh dear, perhaps we had better slow down! I have hardly ever found it necessary to change down to fourth gear, except when overtaking up hills. Mind you, it is an excellent gearbox when you actually use it. I only found two or three false neutrals in 25,000km, and this only when I was not wearing my normal boots.

I don’t suppose there are many people who doubt the FJ’s ability to go, but how does it handle and how does it stop? In my book the handling, at least with K700’s, was absolutely superb. The frame is so stiff that, even at speed on a bumpy road it never produced a single twitch or wobble. Quite incredible! (Please remember that Andrew wrote this some ten years ago).

As far as stopping is concerned, I had never had a set of brakes like this. You want to stop quicker? Squeeze harder. Quicker still? Squeeze some more! What about fade you ask? The damn things got better as they got hotter!

The knowledge that this incredible piece of engineering is beneath me is very comforting as the Prince’s Highway is reeled back beneath my wheels. Victoria comes and goes and, as we get past Eden, the road becomes more of a challenge. I am reminded, once again, of just one of the reasons I love this country so much. No traffic! As a very much ex-pom, this is a feature of Australian Motorcycling that is beyond price, that and escape from the overcast and drizzle. Mind you, I still cannot bring myself to travel without a full set of wet weather gear.

We rolled into Tomakin at about 3:00pm to visit some cousins. After a day catching up with the family we continued our trip, heading up the King’s Highway to Canberra. Mountains, did someone say mountains? The FJ flattens mountains before breakfast!

It took me several visits to Canberra before I began to like the place, but now I believe I could happily live there. I can even find my way about without getting lost. We spend the day at EXECON, unfortunately with several hundred school children, amongst whom we discover the daughter of Marilyn’s “Soul Sister” in Melbourne. Another ‘small world experience’. Fascinating place if you wish to safely experience earthquakes, lightning and other natural phenomena. To my horror, I discovered my colour vision, which has always been perfect, had failed me. I was somewhat relieved that removing my photo-chromatic spectacles cured the problem. A visit to my optician later showed that no problem existed even with my spectacles. The assumption was that the lighting at EXECON was responsible.

After visiting this exhibition of natural wonder we visited another, this time a man made wonder, the new Parliament House. This certainly is a remarkable building although it must be a security nightmare. Still, they impounded my Swiss Army knife during our visit, so Bob and Paul, the current incumbents, were able to relax while we toured the building.

The following morning saw us packed and ready to leave by 7:30, a most unusual achievement for us. It was too good to last. Straightening the bars with the FJ on the prop stand caused a sharp crack. What is this on the ground? It looks like one of the frame bolts that holds the lower frame member. Not surprising; that is exactly what it is! Feeling slightly sick at the thought of the frame springing apart at the first bump in the road, I retrieve the offending part. Snapped clean in half.

What to do at 7:30 am with a broken motorcycle? A review of the Yellow Pages reveals that Robbo’s Motorcycles is not far away. We go there, to find them just opening up the shop at 8:15am. Despite their busy schedule, the workshop finds time to extract the broken bolt and replace it with another. They charge me $17.50 but I insist on paying them $20 for so prompt a service.

Delayed by two hours we are finally away to Yass, a short run down the Hume to Bowning and then turn off for Harden. Now this is a promising road, we are not likely to encounter Revenue Collectors along here! Well, the frame does not appear to have lost any of its stiffness and nothing else flies off. I am surprised and disappointed that this fault should have occurred, but this is really a reflection of the extraordinary reliability that we expect from Japanese machinery these days.

I always ride with my headlight on and I expect it to remain alight. My previous bike, an XJ900, only needed one new headlight globe in 5 years. I do not exaggerate when I report that globes on my Triumph Daytona lasted an average of two weeks. Vibration kills globes as well as riders. I had “Grab On” foam grips on my FJ and never suffered from tingling forearms, which was the only criticism I could level at Bob’s U Model.

Lights On. I have to make a comment here. No intelligent person can deny that a motorcycle is more visible when it’s headlight is on, even when the sun is behind you. Just don’t regard it as a ‘force field’ that will protect you against the unaware, the incompetent and the homicidal. While on the subject, don’t use high beam, drivers see you all right but even in daylight a modern headlamp on main beam is too bright to look at. It annoys people. The last thing you need is to be closing on an irritated driver who is looking away from you.

We find this road contains a surprising variety of up-market restaurants, museums and impressive houses. This must be where the fine wool money is spent. Fascinating. We reached the Olympic way before turning south towards Junee. I had always wanted to visit Junee since reading one of Lester Morris’s amusing stories several years earlier. Because of the enforced delay we had to press on, so Junee did not get a fair opportunity to impress us with its charms.

On to Wagga Wagga. At this point in our trip we had passed the mortal remains of innumerable creatures, kangaroos, wombats, lizards, snakes, birds and the humble domestic cat, but before we reached Wagga Wagga we had actually seen the corpses of two horses and a cow! I am glad they were hit by something more substantial than an FJ1200.

A Pizza Hut Super Supreme filled the spot very nicely at lunchtime in Wagga Wagga and off we went again across the plains to Lockhart and Jerilderie. Some people regard the flat plains as boring, but I find them fascinating, you can see so far across the green plains that the occasional trees merge to become a hazy horizon. The FJ positively ate this road at highway speed. I was in awe of the machine, never so much as a twitch or wobble; bumps yes, but the bike tracked straight as a die.

Jerilderie came and went, then we were on our way to Conargo and Deniliquin.  Deniliquin arrives. This place struck me as a sizeable attractive town. I don’t know what I was expecting but Deniliquin impresses me. This has been a long day on the road and the Spa facilities offered by our motel are eagerly indulged in. Pity it is a public spa, this does tend to cramp one’s style a little, but it does sooth the aches and pains of two middle aged bodies. Despite the spa, I later suffered a painful muscle spasm in my right leg but a splendid Lambs Fry and Bacon followed by a few schooners of Tooheys fixed me up completely!

A short trip the next day, just down to Echuca where we explored a fascinating living museum before taking a ride on the old Emmy Lou Paddle Steamer. Strange, but many of the motorcyclists I have met over the years have shared my fascination for steam engines. I think I would have enjoyed the age of steam, except for one thing. No FJ1200’s!

Tomorrow was Saturday, our magical week nearly over. We cruised home at the ‘advisory’ speed limit via Bendigo. For the past 14 years then I had been going to visit Sandhurst Old Town, and again we did just that. Although, as a privately operated venture it cannot compare with Sovereign Hill I still enjoy it. I love history in Australia, it is so immediate, so easy to relate to. We were married in a 12th Century Church in North Buckinghamshire, but history like this has less effect on me than the living history of Sovereign Hill and Sandhurst Old Town. Talking of history, we still have a letter from our MP at the time, offering his help should we need it. One Robert Maxwell…

Soon after we were back on home territory, and meandered our way homeward via Seymour, Strath Creek and Whittlesea. Bums were numb but our spirits were still free out there on the road. The FJ was running exactly as it did before we left, some 2000km ago.  With the ScottOiler lubrication system I didn't even miss the XJ900’s shaft drive.

When some old ex-biker tells you about the golden age of motorcycles, you tell him that THIS old biker says the golden age is right now!

Andrew Luck (Feb 1992)