I wrote this article decades ago when the “done thing” was to write about yourself in the third person.

During his two Years at Ballarat Teachers’ College, from time to time the various colleges would have a day of inter-college sports. In August 1968 there was an inter-college visit planned with the Bendigo Teachers’ College.  While most students would travel by bus, because of the odd numbers, a few would need to travel by car.  Phil decided this would be a great time to travel by motorbike, instead. He liked riding alone: riding gave him a oneness with his natural surroundings that travelling by car or bus could never do. Knowing the ride home might be a very cold affair, he planned ahead by packing plenty of warm clothes in a bag in the sidecar.  The sidecar was a 1946 Dusting which had been fitted to the 1966 Yamaha YDS3 250cc two-stroke twin motorbike at Pratt and Osborne Motors in Geelong a month or two earlier.   The ride to Bendigo was glorious: horizon to horizon clear blue sky with the golden winter sun streaming down.

The day’s sporting events came and went and Phil was invited back to visit the college dormitory by some girls from Bendigo College who wanted to try out the sidecar.

The girls cooked a truly excellent meal and then followed an evening of chinwagging.  At about midnight a member of staff reminded the resident students that it was an hour after lights out and time for their Ballarat visitor to return home.

Step one of departure preparation was to remove the uniform track suit and don the right sort of kit for a sub-zero motorcycle trip.

From the skin outwards and in this order, the clothing consisted of:
100% cotton Bonds athletic singlet,
100% cotton Bell’s Briefs,
100% cotton Bonds thermal top,
100% cotton Bonds long johns,
100% cotton Bonds skivvy,
100% cotton (denim) Motorbike Scrambler jeans,
100% cotton Exacto fleecy-lined WindCheater (approved gear for motorcycle racing),
The Herald (then a Melbourne evening newspaper about the size of the Age) wrapped around the front half of the upper body over the WindCheater and wrapped around the front of the legs over the jeans,
a thick hand-knitted 100% woollen jumper,
Belstaff oiled cotton waterproof motorcycling pants,
Belstaff oiled cotton waterproof motorcycling jacket.
Yellow high-visibility cotton over-vest.

Note that all these layers were fitted in the order listed with overlaps at the waist.

On the feet were 100% cotton knitted inner socks,
100% wool outer socks,
Holeproof Explorer socks,
Blundstone steel-capped brown suede work boots.

On the hands were a pair of Stadium fleecy-lined leather motorcycling mittens and a pair of Belstaff oiled cotton waterproof motorcycling over-mittens.

On the head was a 100% cotton balaclava (tucked into the neck of the skivvy),
a Bell “Jet” (open-face) helmet, and
a “fishbowl” style clear perspex visor attached to the helmet, with
a Stadium motorcycling peak attached over the visor. With his head tilted slightly forward, the peak kept the snow from the top part of his visor and the bottom of his visor fitted over the neck of the Belstaff jacket.

Phil probably looked like “the Michelin Man” as he waddled out to the outfit and kick-started it, but he was warm as toast having just left a furnace-heated college dormitory.  It was about 12:20am when the engine buzzed into life and the outdoor temperature in Bendigo was – 0.5ºC.  Out there at Flora Hill, it might have been a little colder than that. The interior and exterior surfaces of the visor had been well prepared using Esso Anti-Misting Tissues, but Phil’s breath was freezing to frost in his beard each time he breathed out.

The moon was shining down and lighting the landscape as the little outfit wound its way slowly up into the mountains.  Someone on the moon (but this was still almost a year before the first man walked on the moon in 1969) with a telescope might have thought this was a tiny solitary beetle which climbed ever so slowly across the grass-covered hills which looked so ghostly in the pale moonlight.

Climbing higher into the Great Dividing Range, the moonlight was replaced by heavy clouds and then steadily falling snow.  Soon there was snow all over the road, a fearful aspect if riding a solo motorbike, but not a cause for any concern with the sidecar alongside to keep things stable.  Thick white frost formed on the handlebars, mirrors and sidecar mounts.

Lockwood, Maldon and Newstead came and went without seeing another vehicle on the road.  Short of Campbelltown the moon appeared again and it was time to re-fill the bike’s tank from the jerry can in the sidecar – no petrol stations anywhere would be open at that hour. Campbelltown, Smeaton, Creswick and Mount Rowan were passed by also without seeing another sign of human life.  While passing through Ballarat, one lonely police car was seen to be patrolling and Phil exchanged cheery waves with the crew as he rode by.  Out through Canadian, Mount Clear, Mount Helen, past “St Micks in the Styx” (Saint Martins in the Pines school campus) and down the hill to Buninyong.  Quietly along Warrenheip Street, right into Learmonth Street, left into Cathcart Street, left into Scott Street and then cut the motor and roll silently downhill and into the yard to avoid waking anyone.  It was about 03:10 am and officially about -1.5ºC in Ballarat but probably a couple of degrees colder in Buninyong.  Despite the cold, Phil was still warm inside his Michelin Man mountain of clothes.  Motorcycling can be so enjoyable regardless of the weather if the rider wears appropriate clothing.

2015 Thoughts: Just reading through the article again, I can see many clues to the Autism with which I was diagnosed many years after having written it.  Observe the obsession with detail in the clothing I wore for the freezing part of the journey.  I clearly remember being extremely pedantic about the exact “correct” way to dress for motorcycling.  Also there is my attention to detail regarding the little towns I passed through on the way.