Spring Riding and Bug-Splats

It must be spring – the number of bugs splatting on my visor has increased a thousandfold!

This weekend I decide to spend some time out on the bike, to give the new Arai lid another long day on my head – it gave me a shocking earache last time.

So – on Saturday I gear up and head off nice and early to do the Canberra-Crookwell-Goulburn-Bungendore-Canberra loop (roughly 300kms)


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By the time I get to Goulburn to top up the fuel, pulling the helmet off over my earplugged ears is so painful I nearly scream. Hmmm. Not good. Out with the earplugs, back on with the lid, and I head on the homewards leg of the trip. It’s pretty windy, and the noise inside my helmet is phenomenal. I thought an Arai would be quieter than my old Nolan – but it’s not, and it has some annoying little whistles when my head’s at a certain angle.

That sort of discomfort doesn’t actually decrease the tension through my shoulders or neck. This helmet is proving to be a bit of a challenge. If it wasn’t so gorgeous I’d bin it.

I need some serious cornering practice. I’m surprised how rusty my cornering has become, despite riding every day. Obviously I’ve been spending too much time on highways. So…. Where to go, to get some cornering time? I don’t like the Cotter because it’s full of boy racers, bicycles and 4WDs on weekends. Besides, I feel a bit like a hamster in a wheel going round and round the Cotter loop – I’d rather actually go somewhere.


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So on Sunday I head to Boorowa and out to Wyangala Dam, to take my annual photo of the water level (see what an exciting life I lead?) Everything looks so green out that way, and there are startling swathes of brilliant yellow - fields of canola in bloom – and hills covered in vibrant purple – Patterson’s curse. Last time I was in Boorowa it was about 40C, and everything was a crispy brown. What I can actually see on Sunday, through the crust of bugs on my visor, is lovely. It comes as a surprise, then, to see that the water levels in Wyangala appear even lower than they were last summer.
Wyangala Dam - March 07

Wyangala Dam - December 07

Wyangala Dam - March 08

Wyangala Dam - September 09

There are bearded lizards skittering across the road (some more successfully than others) and a lot of Superb Parrots with an obvious death-wish, playing chicken with my bike. I’m having a ball! The only roos I see are the sad stinky heaps by the side of the road – the losers in the battle with cars - and in the fields there are fat contented mummy sheep standing around while bouncy long-legged lambs skip and gambol in bucolic ecstasy.

Heading home, I give my visor a bit of a clean at the Court House Hotel back in Boorowa and guzzle an orange juice. A bloke at the bar strikes up a conversation and tells me the road from Boorowa to Crookwell is sealed all the way now. Why not? I think, and come home the long way, tee hee, collecting another million bugs on my visor as I go. It’s been a 466km day, my ear hurts, my shoulders and neck ache and my jacket is covered with the yellow guts of more suicidal bugs. Lovely!

Helmet Head

If you don’t need a head, you don’t need a helmet.

I don’t know who said that - I think it was an ad campaign years ago - but it makes sense. I think if you’re going to get onto a motorcycle and ride fast (or even not so fast) on roads where cars, trucks and buses aren’t looking for you, often don’t see you and sometimes run into you – your head and the brain inside it need the best protection you can give them.

A good helmet is essential. To be legal, all helmets sold in Australia have to have the AS1698 sticker affixed, meaning they pass the Australian Safety Standard. Prang in a stickerless helmet and you risk being booked for “not wearing a helmet”. Truly.

My helmet is a Nolan. I have a Nolan shaped head. I’ve tried on many different helmet brands, including the expensive Shoei and Arai ones, but my head just isn’t the right shape for them. No point spending big bucks on something that doesn’t fit properly.

The fit is really important. Too loose and it will move around – that’s not safe, especially if you hit the road or something else. Too tight and it will give you a headache and make riding an ordeal. It has to be, as Goldilocks said, “juuuuust right”. Snug.

Somehow a helmet, like a lot of bike gear, has become a fashion statement as well as a bit of safety kit. There are some fabulous designs and colours available. You can match your helmet to your bike or your gear, pick something that looks artistic or aggro, retro or revolutionary, pretty or punchy. Some helmets are a real work of art. But this is where it starts to get weird. In some circles, the look of the helmet seems more important than its function – keeping your scone safe.

I chose my helmet on the basis of fit and visibility. It’s comfortable and it’s bright. I like the thought that I can be seen on the road. When I bought it, the guy at the shop said “Oh, you got the Casey Stoner replica – nice choice.”

Now, I’d heard of Casey Stoner – I knew he was about to become world champion in motoGP racing, but at the time I wasn’t the race fan that I am now. I thought it was a funny coincidence that the helmet I liked just happened to be the same as Casey’s. And I liked the helmet – it has Aussie motifs on it and a kangaroo on the back that I thought was a nice touch. What I didn’t realise was that I was about to enter the dark side of motorcycling where some people judge you by the gear that you wear.

And then I read a long thread on a bike forum about race replica helmets. The prevalent view seemed to be that people who buy race replica helmets are wannabes and wankers.

I met someone in real life who’s actually on that forum, and I noticed he kept looking at my helmet and doing weird things with his eyebrows and his head to communicate with his friends. He even commented on it – said something like “Nice helmet” but I felt instantly paranoid, and was sure what he was actually thinking was “Oh, a Stoner replica helmet – Wotta wanker!”

I don’t get it. I’ve never heard people called wannabes for wearing their favourite footy team’s jersey. People in AC/DC or Led Zeppelin t-shirts aren’t wannabe musos, and nobody will accuse you of wanting to be Marilyn Monroe or Marilyn Manson if you wear clothes emblazoned with their image.

I’m thinking that maybe – just maybe - the comments of some people say more about themselves than about the people they’re criticising. Wankers!