Down Under, no deadline

TORONTO STAR FILE PHOTO

When Steve Bond went Down Under, he found some interesting signs.

Steve Bond

SPECIAL TO THE STAR

BEST Moments

With motorcycling, it's all about the journey, not the destination and I had a great journey in January. I plunked my credit card down, said, "Let's see what this baby can do," and set off to explore as much of Australia as I could.

I was riding by myself, had no itinerary, no appointments and no idea where I'd be staying each night – it was a true Gypsy Tour.

I headed south from Sydney, encountered temperatures of 42C and quickly made a beeline for the coast. After 4,000 km in six days over some truly outstanding roads, the highlights of the trip were The 12 Apostles – breathtaking natural wonders in a continent full of wonder.

The second-best time was riding the Triumph Scrambler in October. After being injured in a crash (see below), not having medical clearance to ride during our glorious autumn made me miserable, but the Scrambler made me appreciate every above-freezing day all the more.

All-day endurance rides were out of the question but it was incredibly satisfying to go for an hour or so, break for a coffee and sit back to admire the Scrambler.

Worst Moments

The Wheels editor doesn't want gore and mayhem but my worst motorcycle experience this year (and for the past 10 years put together) was crashing at Mosport in August, destroying my right shoulder.

The second-, third- and fourth-worst times occurred during our monsoon summer when I got caught out in the rain three days in a row.

You'd think that with multi-million-dollar weather satellites, Doppler radar and years at "Weather Guy School," the local seers would be able to get it right once in a while.

The transformation from "dry and carefree" to "sodden and miserable" depends on whether you believed Weather Guy when he said, "Slight chance of showers" and brought the rain gear along.

It starts with water beading up on your helmet and dripping down your collar – a narrow, icy rivulet forging its way down the middle of your back. Coincidentally, your hands grow colder as water soaks through your gloves and the front of your jacket starts feeling dampish.

As you bravely move ahead through the deluge, the icy rivulet grows to a stream, then a flood. The flow down your back branches off and joins forces with the torrent surging under your armpits. Gravity pulls the two glacial tributaries down toward sensitive nether regions, which are soon awash in freezing runoff.

After you're sure you'll never have children again, the pooled liquid nitrogen starts running down the inside of your legs until both boots are full. Yes, your favourite riding boots are waterproof, but in this case, your feet get wet from the inside out.

Sloshing into the garage, you disrobe, leaving the sopping clothes draped over the bike, hop into a hot shower and 20 minutes and a coffee later, you're ready to do it again tomorrow.

After all, Weather Guy says it'll be sunny. What are the chances he'll be wrong two days in a row?

More videos from Wheels.ca and our partners