Ron Power Roundup – Oct 11, 2009 – by Michael Ross

Being almost a month since my last ride I was chomping at the bit to get back in the saddle for an outing. And with the Ron Power Roundup it would also have an additional reason. And so I made sure I was not working that weekend and all was set.

While I knew the ride was to leave from Booval Fair I didn't know Where in Booval Fair the bikes would be gathering, what with there being five entrances in to shopping center. So I called one of the numbers on the Flyer for the event. Unfortunately, he didn't know as Booval Fair wasn't his spot, nor did he know Who would be leading from there so could give me no-one else's number to call. So I was resigned to potentially riding around Booval Fair until I found some bikes.

And so it was. I arrived to a small plattering of bikes, which grew to 55 at my last count before we left. Registering for the event I was given a wrist tag and a Raffle Ticket for the perpetual raffle at the end destination. And slowly time drew near to leave.

We were called to gather around for the ride brief. And while doing so, corner markers were already heading off to mark the few initial corners. We'd be riding down the Cunningham Highway, then the Ipswich Motorway, then the Logan Motorway to Loganholme – all pretty dull boring highway stuff I ride every day to work – where we would gather to regroup just out of town. Before taking the backroad to Cleveland via Redland Bay and Victoria point.

Turning on the video camera I did a quick lap of the group and positioned myself to get some nice group footage. Damn... right behind some bike without a muffle. Well, it had an exhaust pipe. But I doubt there were any baffles anywhere near the thing. Maybe an “increase noise echo chamber” but no sound deadening baffles. My ears were taking a hammering while we rode to the Cunningham. And first chance I got, I HAD to get past. My sanity depended on it.

Hmmm... Lockyer Sheriff ahead. I'm going a smidgen faster than the group because dropping back with bikes behind me is dangerous. And I cannot just pull in to any old gap for it would upset the established stagger ride positions. I need to find a bigger gap where no-one will be forced to break. Hope the Sheriff doesn't fine me for going past him. If he does, it's worth the relief to my ears. I press on. The rebellious person I am.

The ride to Loganholme was pretty non eventful. Although the last corner marker... the one signaling to leave the highway... was not really visible until almost past the exit. But otherwise it was good. And the idea of Etoll being taken care of... well, I don't know about that as I've been slugged for it.

Anyway. As we came off the highway there was a policeman pulling over a tintop for speeding. As we rumbled by he didn't even look up from what he was doing.

Passing him, we then had to negotiate a couple of round-a-bouts. One had another group of riders coming from the right - good timing. Before heading out of Loganholme, past the Mt Cotton turn off and then pulling up on the side of the road for a regroup. We were told there wouldn't even be time for a burner so might as well stay on the bike. But... so many bikes... I'm rebellious remember... I have a camera... oh yeah, no-one else will have This shot. Snap. OH! We're leaving now. Gloves. Quick quick. We're off. What's that screaming up the right? Two flouro yellow vests. Corner markers? They should know better than to speed past a group of bikes pulling onto the road. Besides, if memory of my time spent living in Cleveland is correct, there will only be one more corner... right at the entrance to the final destination. They can wait behind me.

The ride from here to the Donald Simpson Center was pleasant. The scenery was nice. And as we went past traffic lights there were police to usher us through. Somewhere along the way someone lost a glove as it lay on the road. And then a small way further, another glove lay on the side.

Then we arrived to the ogling of the locals. Parking under the shade of some trees, we made our way to the main gathering area. Where hamburgers were bought, snags on slices of bread were obtained, amber fluid was enjoyed by some while others did the Romper Room “Bend and Stretch, Reach For The Stars, there goes Jupiter, here Comes Mars” while waiting for a coffee fix.

While the band played...loud ...even after turning it Down... people perused the few stands. The April Bella stand was a big hit. I figure if I'd brought a box of ear plus I'd have been a big hit too. Sorry, but dang, for a social meet and greet thing, that music was loud... or more to the point... piercing. And people were keeping their distance in the hopes it wouldn't be so loud a little further away.

The perpetual raffle numbers were being drawn. I didn't win. Or maybe I did but couldn't see my numbers cause my eyes were all fuzzy from the piercing backwards Satanic messages rock and roll music being played. Look. Here's a pic of the crazed rockband in question. Look at them. Are they a dubious looking bunch of characters or what? I mean, you wouldn't answer your door to them at night would you? Just look at that evil scowl on the bass player. Scare-ee. {{shudder}}

Then the auction started. And the auctioneer shared some of his questionable upbringing. What with sticking things into toasters and trying to suck his brains out through his ears with a vacuum cleaner or something. I don't know. But the highlight. The bestest moment. Was when they were auctioning off an April Bella jacket to the value of $400 while Xena was inside the April Bella tent buying one! She begged. She pleaded. She threatened to summon the demons of wrath. But the Sheriff got out his book and wrote it down. Paying retail for a jacket that was being auctioned off for less.

Auction done it was time to go. I checked the rain radar on my phone. Figured we'd get wet. Added the rain lining to the jacket and headed off. And sure enough. The rain came down. Which, of course, means “now it's time to drive like an idiot” with a nasty little Car-Meets-Tree near the QEII stadium. But once past that and the rubber neckers, it was a pretty good ride home. Wet but good.