Coleraine was advertised as the last FarRoad ride of 2026. As things turned out, it became the last FarRoad ride altogether.

After FarRiders disappeared around 2022, FarRoad helped keep the wheels turning. People put their hands up, organised destinations and gave us a reason to keep doing what we enjoy: riding an unnecessarily long way to meet people who understand why.

A particular thank you goes to KWAKA, who quickly established the website and forum and put years of effort into keeping them going. That work deserves recognition, and the cyberattack that ultimately brought things to an end was a terribly disappointing way to finish.

Still, there was one more gathering to enjoy.

The destination was the National Smokehouse Hotel in Coleraine, western Victoria. For Dom — ZigZag — and me, it was also the opening act of a four-day adventure, with Race the Overland to follow.

First, though, we had to get to the pub.

Dom’s scenic route

We left Totness, near Mount Barker, a minute or so after the appropriate start time, having accounted for time zones, daylight saving and the following day’s check-in.

Long-distance riding: even leaving home can require arithmetic.

Dom had designed the route, and he’d done a magnificent job. We followed the Mallee Highway towards Walpeup before turning south and threading our way through the countryside towards Sea Lake and Kerang.

His brief appeared to have been to find every delightful little sealed road heading approximately in the right direction.

He came remarkably close.

The country looked sensational. Full crops, lingering green, plenty of water and the promise of harvest ahead. Around Kerang, the wetlands were brimming and the birdlife was abundant.

Some of it was rather too interested in Dom.

From my position behind him, it seemed he was receiving a succession of personal attacks. Birds launched themselves across his path with extraordinary commitment and very little apparent concern for the consequences. A couple sadly misjudged things altogether.

Dom’s route planning was excellent. His relationship with the local air force needed work.

After roughly 650 kilometres, we settled into accommodation that ticked three important boxes: cheap, cheerful and clean.

It also had an Indian restaurant attached.

Dom and I both love Indian food, and the meal was excellent. A good ride, a comfortable bed and a decent curry within easy reach. There are worse ways to organise your life.

A slight flaw in the plan

We set off around six the next morning, fully fuelled and aiming to reach Coleraine at about 10.45.

Once I put the route into the GPS, it suggested something closer to 11.30.

This was information that might have been useful before bed.

The morning was grey, with overnight rain and more about. We worked our way towards Birchip and then south towards the Grampians, following more of Dom’s carefully selected back roads.

There was, however, a small disagreement between the plan and the road surface.

A shortcut that appeared sealed in the imagery had two kilometres of dirt at the end. With the overnight rain, we paused to consider our options. A narrow sealed road heading south looked promising, so we tried that.

Several kilometres later, it also became dirt.

We backtracked.

About six extra kilometres of exploration. Nothing much in the scheme of a thousand-kilometre ride.

Keep that figure in mind.

Approaching Roses Gap, Dom came over the Cardo.

“I may have a slight flaw in the plan.”

“What’s that, Dom?”

“I’m pretty low on fuel.”

“What’s your range?”

“150.”

We had about 155 kilometres to go.

“Should be able to make that.”

An optimistic assessment, I thought.

Rain, roses and red clay

I’ve passed the Roses Gap turn-off on the Western Highway many times and wondered where it went.

Now I know. Somewhere beautiful.

Also, on this occasion, somewhere very wet.

The rain through the Grampians was heavy enough to make visibility difficult, so this was a careful passage rather than an opportunity to enjoy the bends with any enthusiasm. Even so, the scenery made an impression. It’s a road I’d happily revisit when I could see more of it.

Beyond the ranges, the weather mostly cleared. The countryside opened into glorious green paddocks, with fat cattle, contented sheep and water everywhere.

We’d ridden from a tinge of green in the Mallee into the full-colour version.

Then we found more dirt.

By now it was about 11.10. Check-in started at 11.30. Continuing offered an arrival around 11.25; finding another way threatened to consume the check-in window.

The surface looked to have been under reconstruction, which would explain why Dom’s research hadn’t picked it up. Whatever its history, the bitumen was currently absent.

I took the lead on my road tyres.

The gravel had a reasonably firm base, but the red clay holding it together made things feel decidedly slippery. After about five kilometres, I’d enjoyed quite enough of that particular experience.

We emerged onto the sealed road into Coleraine. Dom apologised for the surprise, resumed the lead and pointed us towards lunch.

Nearly there.

Three kilometres short

The first sign was some muttering over the Cardo.

Then Dom began weaving gently from side to side and slowing down.

His Yamaha had reached the end of its fuel supply.

We were three kilometres from Coleraine. We could see parts of the town ahead.

Remember those six extra kilometres?

My BMW’s larger tank had spared me the same problem, so I headed into town, found a service station and returned with a five-litre jerry can containing about four litres of petrol.

Meanwhile, Dom had somehow coaxed another couple of kilometres out of the bike through repeated attempts involving the fuel cap and whatever petrol remained.

By the time I reached him, he was almost within pushing distance.

I was impressed. Not sufficiently impressed to recommend the method, but impressed nonetheless.

I handed over the fuel and, at his suggestion, carried on to get check-in underway.

ZigZag arrived shortly afterwards.

Under power.

The reason we do it

Our gathering included Scott from Leeton, David Grant and Perry Cooper from Queensland, Ron Perry, Dom and me.

The weather had discouraged a few others, and there were apologies from those who couldn’t make it. Given the conditions, it was a welcome turnout and a fitting way to close this chapter.

The National Smokehouse Hotel looked after us beautifully. The owners and staff made us feel welcome from the outset, including inviting us to park the bikes around the back for safekeeping.

Small things like that make a difference. You feel you’ve arrived somewhere pleased to have you.

Lunch rolled into an afternoon of balcony conversation for those staying on: rides remembered, stories exchanged and accounts of how we’d each fallen into this far-riding caper.

Scott headed off to complete his ride later that day. Others had onward plans, including Ron’s forthcoming Tasmanian holiday.

For those remaining, the pub had a Halloween dinner night planned. The decorations were out, the place was pumping, and there was no shortage of entertainment.

After the morning’s calculations, rain, clay and fuel rescue, sitting down with good company felt particularly well earned.

Something to take forward

We also trialled Timemark for our ride documentation, with Scott, Dom and me giving it a go.

The early verdict was encouraging. Taking a photograph with the relevant details recorded made the process easier for riders and easier for me at the checking end. Scott was particularly taken with the simplicity.

There’s more to work through, but it looks like a useful option for future rides.

And there will be future rides.

Thank you to everyone who came to Coleraine, everyone who supported FarRoad along the way, and everyone who gave their time to keep these gatherings happening.

A special thank you to the National Smokehouse Hotel for the hospitality, and to Dom for a sensational route and two days of thoroughly enjoyable riding.

Coleraine was only halfway through our four-day adventure. We still had a train to race.

That’s another story.

See you out on the road in 2027.

Taffey