When I get around to it I will tell the tale of the next saga in the great long ride.
The VJMC rally is held once a year in Healesville, Victoria. VJMC stands for Vintage Japanese Motorcycle Club and as the name suggests, they provide a club base for owners of early Hondas, Yamahas, Kwackazackys, Zooks and the like.
Under the enthusiasm of my older brother who was busily resoring a 1964 Honda CT90, we prepped up for a couple-of-days ride down south and back. Picking up older brother No.2 on the way at Chiltern.
Admittably, my 2002 CT110 cannot be classed as vintage so I told myself I was the support/ sweep vehicle in case anything cruicial fell off the old 64 along the way. At the last minute, cousin Darren signed up for the ride, and without a bike licence, took the Hilux with the camping gear, GPS and reading material. Subsequently, my role of support vehicle was taken at the last minute.
Riding the 1200km down wasnt all that much of a problem. We stuck to the back roads as much as possible, thus avoiding the wild highway drivers and swaying semi's. Bro W took his first maintainance stop 50 km from home and after a cam change and retiming, we were off again. (It was the first of at least 6 timing changes). With no wind, we set the pace of the slowest at about 64.5 km/Hr, headwind could knock you back to 50 and combined with a good hill, back to 40. There was no rush, and the unhurried backroads provide alot to take in.
Our second day riding, riding in trio and winding through the Eildon State Forests to find our way back down through the Panton Gap to Healesville was exillarating and for once we started to out pace the cars through the tight hilly stuff. The Rally was postponed from the the previous March due to the intence bush-fires that blazed the region. The battle scars from the fires were very obvious and gave us a fair hint of how major these wild fires were.
We hit Healesville by 8.00 on the second day and rattled into the campground in front of a pack of bemused BMRs ('bigger motorbike riders'... their bikes, not always their stature).
Bro W and myself had purchased a couple of one-man trail tents for the ride (before the support vehicle was provided). I erected mine on a tidy patch of grass beside my hog and W took out his thoughtfully packed 4-man tent for spacious sleeping arrangements. Bro No,2 also settled down in a 3-man, while I lay with my nose 5 inches away from the condensation drips collecting on the ceiling. Support cousin snores like a unmuffled Bultaco so fortunately I was far enough away to not be kept awake by his idle.
The colours of the rally shone through with the lifting of the fog. Without providing details of what was there, I will let the photos do the talking. Everything from rusted-nut old every-day roadies, to lounge-room kept works of art from the 70's. We took to the streets (on the CT's) and grabbed a cuppa amongst the executive Harley riders doing the weekend loop. (and wernt they impressed by our thumpsters parked in their pack).
The rally went really well. There were a a good 200 bikes there with as many in the car-park. Everyone was up for a yarn and a story. We got to tell ours.
Sunday was pack up and head out, back up over the mountains, through the burnt-out villages and onto the quiet back-roads. It was a warm two days ride home and we had all fitted into a pattern of ride, pass, lead, tail, pull-over, rest, check and go again. 
Our fuel consumption was about 45 km to the litre and as we did the last 150 km into Grenfell our speed was up to 75km/Hr. The bikes must have loosened up. Once again the old CT proved itself. I recon you could ride for weeks without too much drama.... but then, that will be another story.