A steep learning curve... 50 years ago.

So leading into Easter 1969, good mate Ken Brand a first year medical student convinces me to go bush walking at the Lost World, South of Beaudesert. Being 15 and keen to go anywhere that involves car travel.. I am in.

Camping gear?

Who needs it?

Boots?

Nah.. old pair of black school shoes and a couple of pairs of socks.

Ken had a steel framed / canvas covered camp stretcher from Sherry's Disposals that I could sleep on under the stars. Might get cold... OK.. pinch an old eiderdown quilt from mum's spare room. Stock up on crap to eat, load it all into his mother's old Morris Major Elite and away the two of us go in search of adventure.

What could possibly go wrong?

How little we know at 15 it would seem.

Good Friday morning finds us loaded into the old car and heading south for the big event. Ken has no car radio but he does have a National Panasonic Transistor 8 on the dash and between the static and whine of the ignition system we get updates on the road toll form various car accidents over Easter. Half a century later I have forgotten the numbers, but at the time we are horrified to hear them.

Eventually.. the Lost World arrives.. or rather we arrive at the Lost World.

An amazing place... the famers had kept the grass between the creek and the road trimmed back so finding a camping spot wasn't that hard to do. Last time I was there about 10 years ago it was so overgrown so you could not leave the road. And finding a camping spot was easy. I mean back then we only had 1 million cars on the road in all of QLD. Now from memory it is in excess of 4 million.

So we make camp and then boil the billy. With hot tea in us we then decide what to do for the next 2 days.

Ken points out Buchanans Fortress way above us..... "We shall climb that tomorrow!"

"Yes mate.. let's do that.. how hard can it be?"

Buchanan's Fortress.

In the meantime we waste the day discussing all sorts of crap, cars, girls, motorbikes, girls, hifi systems, girls, any snakes around here, girls .. well you get it.

After a wholesome dinner of tinned spaghetti (yuk yuk yuk) we bed down. Me on my canvas camp stretcher in a pair of shorts and T shirt covered by an ancient eiderdown quilt. Shit I froze. And then it got colder and colder and colder.. so I had to find some more timber to build the fire higher. What a miserable night.

But.. tomorrow would be better.

Finally the sun came over the horizon and as I started to warm up.. I fell into a deep sleep.

For about 5 minutes.... "Wake up Mark.. time to get up!"

About a half hour later finds us walking through really high scratching undergrowth looking for the the way up. And the funny thing I learnt that day is this.... When you pick out an object in the distance and decide to walk to it.... somehow it recedes into the distance as you approach it. You walk and you walk and you never get closer. Well not for a few hours that is.

Long story short is that we did get to the top and back down way after sunset. I don't have any pix from the top because... I left my plastic camera on my camp stretcher covered by the bloody eiderdown quilt.

Easter Sunday we lay around the camp as we were both stuffed. Had no idea how hard that was going to be.


Late Easter Monday night we pull up at Armagh Street and I am home. Jump into a hot shower and man oh man are my legs reacting to the hot water. Talk about covered in scratches, blisters all over my feet and bits of skin missing everywhere.

Could not believe how warm and comfortable my bed was that night.

And to think it was 50 years ago this Easter, yet fresh in my mind like just last week.

After that trip I started to buy better gear including Paddy Palin boots. My bushwalking days with Ken continued with a trip to Mount Barney later in the year and then to many other places including the Stinson crash site.

He was a good mate taken way too soon.

Ken at Mt Barney January 1970

Why fly/drive when you can ride?

So it all made sense... well sort of.

Deb had some errands for me to run in Sydney and then Canberra.

Easy, fly to Sydney, rent a car.

Do the business there and then drive to Canberra.

Same there and then fly out of Canberra back to Brisbane.

 But then a thought came over me.. why not take the bike?

Ride to Sydney, CBR and then home via the Snowy Mountains.

The Long way home!

Thing is... planes and cars are basically weatherproof..... one day I shall learn.

Packed up the GSA and man was it loaded. Didn't realise paper work could weigh so much.

Down the Pacific Highway and up over the range via Bellingen and Dorigo to spend the first night at Armidale. Brochure drop the next morning and then down Thunderbolts Way to the Pacific Highway. The first time I had ever travelled along that road. An amazing ride. Must go back for a look around in the car when holidays roll around.

Eventually I arrive in Sydney.. but along the way I took the Old Pacific Highway and had lunch at Pie in the Sky.

Had one of the best meat pies ever here for lunch.

Arrived in Sydney late that afternoon as storms hovered overhead. Checked into the motel and had an early night.  This time I remembered to remove the lamb's wool seat cover from the bike before it rained. (Don't ask!)


An early start in the morning, a couple of people to see, one of whom was the Auto Expert, John Cadogan. His Youtube videos are legendary. And he is the place to go to buy a new car! John has been very helpful in coaching me on video production for the bride's shop's website. His knowledge of all things photographic is amazing and he is a mechanical engineer to boot.

You smile for the camera John and I will see what this button does!

After a couple of the best coffees I have ever had, I bid my farewell to John and head to Canberra. Now the GSA has 2 GPS systems on it and I run them in parallel and of course.. they both had different ideas in how to get to CBR. Only one of them has an on screen map so I follow that one as I dice with Sydney traffic and big trucks and threatening skies.

Finally, Canberra bound.

Now this GSA is an amazing bike to tour on. Long range with a large fuel tank, cruise control etc. But sometimes even it needs fuel and my backside needs a rest. Stopped at a service centre along the way and filled the beast up. Filled myself up with V and a couple of Panadol and away I went. Debra's old school friend Cheryl offered to put me up for the night. Sadly when she came down to open the garage, she locked herself out of her unit. So a quick long way ride around via Uber to a friend's place to get the spare key was my start to a couple of days in Canberra.

When we got back.. the bike was still there (bonus!) so into the underground garage it went.

Cheryl's FB pix.. "A man and his bike"

A great steak that night at the local football club and the next day I had the morning free. So off we went in the Mustang to the Old Parliament House to see an exhibition of the best political cartoons of 2018. Some really good stuff there. We went our separate ways then as I had some business to do and later in the day I managed to catch up with old school friend Tor Fromyr. Now I saw Tor last year and it was the first time in 50 years. And it was as though we had just seen each other yesterday. I always kid Tor that he looks like a Russian Spy. Cannot wait to get him into the studio for some black & white photography when next he comes to Brisbane. In the meantime.... we had a quick catchup in this fabulous cafe somewhere in Canberra.

Talk about Euro feel cafe!

Tor's comment was that I should take care with whom I associate with in the nation's capital.

Recently I wrote about my late father. In my small collection of his "stuff" was a victory medal from I think WW1. It was not his. In fact I have no idea how he came by it, but I always thought I should try to find a home for it. Using the search engine on the War Memorial Site I could not locate the owner. But I did find my late Uncle Jack and my second dad, Allan Gay.

Seemed to me that this medal in the top drawer in my office was just a piece of metal. Imagine the joy for somebody out there being reunited with a long lost relative by receiving their Victory Medal? It had to find an owner. At this point I thought perhaps the folks at the War Memorial in Canberra could help. I emailed Dr Brendan Nelson and asked him for advice. I had photographed him for an assignment when he was a cabinet minister many years ago. He actually remembered that.

So Friday morning finds me in Dr Nelson's office handing the medal to him.

I hope it finds a new home and brings some joy!

DR N and me... Deb was horrified by my wardrobe matching!

Dr Nelson is (was) a keen motorcyclist and only recently sold his beloved white Hayabusa. He just loves the form of motorcycles and told me he would have two inside his house.. if only his wife would let him. Understand that.. makes perfect sense.

Now that's a bike!

So while I was at the War Memorial I thought I would have another look around.

G for George, what an aeroplane.

What a magnificent design even by today's standards.

This aeroplane can tell some stories.... Google it.

The bridge of HMAS Brisbane, now resting on the bottom of the ocean.

First time I have seen a centurion tank in the flesh. had a toy one as a kid.

Now at this point, any normal person would drive to Canberra airport and fly home. No.. not me, I am going to loop through the Snowy Mountains and ride back to Brisbane. So I saddle up and head to Cooma for the night. If you ever saw Gold Finger, you might remember a scene where the Koreans put a giant mirror up and the reflection of Bond's Headlights confused him and he crashed the Aston Martin. So the motel I stayed at had this really long car park.... my room was at the end. As I rode along slowly looking for room numbers on the doors I looked up and suddenly saw another motorbike heading right for me. Talk about panic.. but no.. it was me looking at my own reflection. The end wall was all mirrors. Nearly dropped the bike...

Notice the mirror behind the bike!

The next day was Saturday.. so a day of touring and then head for  home. Up early and off to see the sights....

Cabramurra at 1488 metres. It was 14C with a really cold wind blowing. 

First port of call was Cabramurra the highest town permanently lived in all year. Cold as a mother in law's kiss. That wind chill factor was something else.

Had to park the bike this way so the wind didn't blow it over.

Then it was down the mountain.. a full 10 C difference in temp to boil the billy.

The good old Aldi camp stove.

Nice and sunny today!

Really freaky. Just a ramp down to the underground and lots of wind coming out.

Time to head for home. And the last picture....

This is the most amazing place. I need a good week's holiday down here. Saw wild brumbies, waterfalls and all sorts of amazing things. Need more time to take it in. Rode home in two days and managed to miss most of the storms once north of Sydney. I literally just got the bike locked in the garage, the door came down and then the biggest electrical storm hit Brisbane. Lightning, thunder you name it.. we had it.

All in all an awesome trip....

GPS and telemetry data here.

GPS trip computer 

Telemetry 1.

Telemetry 2.

Telemetry 3.

Amazing stuff. And all 50 years since man walked on the moon. Now even motorcycles have telemetry.

40 years ago today, I lost my mentor.

I remember it so clearly.. the phone rang and awoke me from a troubled sleep.

I looked at the bedside alarm clock... 4:15 AM.

"Hello, this is Mark."

"Mr Taylor, it's the Royal Brisbane Hospital here. I am sorry to advise you that your father passed away at 4:00 AM this morning!"

I knew it was coming, but it still hit hard.

"Please leave dad where he is.. I want to come and say good bye. I will be there in 15 minutes".

I rang my mother and sister in law Pam answered the phone.

"He's gone Pam."

She said she would bundle mother up to the hospital .

Quickly I dressed and drove the Toyota the short distance from Alderley to the hospital. Parked in the first spot I found and headed up in the lift. Friend from childhood Dr Ken Brand had told me that when this moment came, I should go and see him and say good bye.

The ward sister met me on the verandah.... she asked if I was OK and I sort of mumbled yes. My then wife elected to wait it outside, fair enough.

I went into the ward and saw his bed surrounded by curtains. I gently opened them and stood next to my father in his death bed. They had combed his hair straight back, the way he never wore it. And both of his arms were under the sheets.  The things I still remember, I stroked his head and he was still warm. I said my good byes and thanked him for being a great father. Again I apologised for being a crappy son during my teenage years... yes I really was that bad.

Strangely I didn't cry. (Little did I know that would wait for his funeral!)

Out onto the verandah I walked as my mother walked in. She was very teary. She cried by my father's side and apologised for not being with him when he passed.

So 6 AM finds me back at Armagh St, the family home. I stood at the top of the back stairs watching the day dawning and felt like a great weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Dad's suffering was over. And did he suffer that last week.. especially the night before when I sat by his side holding his hand and talking to him. Pam brought me a cup of tea and I can still taste that sweet white tea even today.

The next 40 years seem to have flown by.. until today when I went to the cemetery to "visit dad" on the 40th anniversary of his death.

So many questions never answered, so much advice on life that I could never get from my father.

Recently I had this discussion with good friend Tim Roberston who lost his dad at 22 and he made similar comments. My father's business acumen was legendary and I really could have done with his mentoring during my early years in business.

My father lived a great life. A WW1 survivor (he went to war at 16) he also beat a post op infection that nearly killed him in 1944. There are buildings in Brisbane that still stand today thanks to his incredible vision and optimism to convince his group to build them for a growing city.

A charter member of Brisbane West Rotary he got a new lease on life at 67 as he helped to build that club. At his funeral it was said that he was granted a long life in which to live his Christian philosophy of service before self.

And that was Ron Taylor to a T. Always service before self.

RRBT at his desk in the Buffalo Lodge.

On my 21st birthday he told me that success in life can be achieved by understanding these 4 things:

1. Nothing of any value is ever achieved without some sacrifice.

2. Life isn't fair, get used to it.

3. Take advantage of every opportunity that comes your way.

4. Service before self. Always!

Great to see you again dad.

The funeral was a celebration of his life, yet very sad as well.

I am so sad that Debra didn't get to meet dad, he was always keen to see women to do more than be housewives. To that end he set my mother up in her own business, Commercial Supplies Unlimited.

He would have thought the world of Debra and how she takes care of women who have been through the anguish of breast cancer.

Perhaps he is looking down.....

Ghosts of QANTAS past.... and other things.

So one of the great things about doing the "repping" for the bride's boutique is that I get to travel to country destinations.. so I usually take the bike!

It has been sometime since we did a marketing run out to Tambo and back.. so Tambo was selected, brochures prepared and stored on the bike.

And then there was nothing left for the leaving but the going itself.

(To quote Ewan McGregor)

Always good to have company so I conned great mate Frank into accompanying me on this voyage of sales and discovery....

We headed out into off and on again rain until we got slightly west of the GDR and then it was sunny and hot. Day one at sunset  found us overnighting in Miles. Debra and I had been there before for a BCAQ rural workshop where she spoke of just what Spirit of Life does.

A quick meal at the pub, early night and the next morning we packed up and headed to Tambo.

Note the stickers on Frank's panniers. Three months + in the USA!

The GSA carries enough fuel to get to Tambo with only one refuelling stop.. but the stopping along the way to allow Frank to refuel his GS was magic as it gave me a break and time for a cold drink along the way. Our lunch stop was McDonalds in Roma. It was so hot. I had my Fuji X-Pro 1 kit in the top box and was a bit concerned about internal temps in the sun. Packed a towel in on top of it as insulation. Will have to find a fix for that. Along the way I drop brochures into rural health services and country hospitals. The end of the line being Tambo.

Last time I was here was in the Discovery 3. Brochures in hand and...

We checked into the Mill Motel for 2 nights to have a rest. That afternoon their flag was flying at half mast. We wondered what was going on.. the publican told us the motel owner had died in his sleep overnight.  On the following morning my AC unit had also died so they shifted me to a new room. With an AC that worked! Bonus!!!


Now if you have seen the movie Rainman, you would be aware that QANTAS gets a good mention in it about being a safe airline. However in 1927, the mighty QF had a fatal prang right here in Tambo. We decided to go have a look at the site. Not much there but a plaque on a tree stump. Very sad all the same though.

All that is there now...

The plaque at the site.

Frank at the crash site car park.

Now Frank has been to Jackson in the USA. And he has a sticker to prove it. All day long as we headed west he would tell me at random times through the helmet comms.... "I've been to Jackson!"

About a million times he told me that!

"See.. I've been to Jackson!"

Late last year Debra and I took the mighty Calais out to Barcaldine for a BCAQ rural women's education event. Deb spoke about just how Spirit of Life helps women get back to normal post breast surgery. On the way back we stopped in at Fanny Mae's cafe in Tambo where we met this lovely lady who owed a property.

"Next time you're passing through.. come visit us"

So Frank and I thought... why not?


"Just ride 10 k out of town, turn right and then ride another 10 k and you come in through our front gate."

Sounded great.. after lunch we headed off.... except the last 10k was really deep gravel and also a lot of black soil. And deep gravel and a GSA made for a lot of "interesting" riding. But eventually we got there. This property is 45,000 acres where 3000 head of beef cattle graze. It is actually 2 properties now joined together and so they have two homesteads. Isaroy and Stirling Downs. And didn't they make us welcome.

Afternoon tea on the verandah and then a tour by Land Cruiser of the property.

Man that tea was great. So were the biscuits.

Miss Jenny and some of her newly born pups.

The GSA right out in the bush!

These guys had been dropping stock feed around the place.

Jenny and Jim. (And a pup! Everybody loves pups!)

Their new "Dear John" tractor.

Jim & Frank chewing the fat!

This dog is amazing. Jumping up there while still feeding.

Jenny took us for the royal tour across to see the original homestead. And what a place it is. Would make an excellent movie set. Until 1974 they had to generate their own electricity. A gen set (32 volt DC) and storage batteries did the trick. Even had their own butcher shop.

Jenny at the old homestead, Stirling Downs.

Bottle tress planted in 1934

Barbed wire hearts; decorations for Jenny's significant birthday!

Imagine a cold drink here after playing tennis...

Anyone for tennis?

Jenny and those fabulous bottle trees.

Looking from the house yard at Isaroy back towards the road in.

So by now the sun was starting to get low in the sky, lightening was in the distance and we had to get back to Tambo. So back to the other homestead, and a quick photo before we headed out. We hit the dreaded gravel as the sunset and the lightning came along behind us. And before we were half way along we were in total darkness. Riding along at 70 km/h standing on the pegs and balancing the bike as it bucked all over the road was bloody hard work. Especially in the dark. But we knew we had to be off that road before any rain fell or the black soil would halt our progress.

Finally we turned left onto the bitumen road back into Tambo just in time for the evening parade of kangaroos. Managed to miss them and get back under the motel cover as the rain began to fall. With two undamaged BMW bikes and two riders left over. Bonus!

Later that night Jenny and Jim came to town and we all had dinner and a beer at the Tambo Tavern.

All in all a rather quick trip. Out on Tuesday and back home Saturday afternoon.

Planning another marketing run up to Rockhampton and then out to Longreach next year. (Last did that 2 years ago.. they must be out of brochures by now.)

But I think I will return via Tambo again.

Want to see more of that country.

Ich bin ein Berliner.

The story of MAX Two Point Zero's emigration to Australia.

So around 55 years ago, JFK uttered those immortal words. 

June 26, 1963 actually. 

And these days, most tourists to Berlin want to see where the wall was and Checkpoint Charlie and all of those other terrible reminders from the past. 

A past where the Nanny State meant a life lived in miserable oppression.

I remember in our German class back in 1966, Miss Dunbar (not Ms Dunbar... it was 52 years ago) telling our class all about "the wall" and how some had successfully crossed over.. and survived. The one that sticks in my mind was the low slung sports car, with windscreen removed and doors filled with cement. This car was able to drive under the barricade with the driver leaning right over.. while the cement "additions" kept the lead poisoning away.

But these days in a brave new world, the thing of interest for me in Berlin, is the factory of BMW Motorrad. This is where the BMW GS and GSA motorcycle models are made. I have been looking at these bikes for a few years now. And have really started to look closely at the design, the thoughts behind the design and the amazing technology built into each bike.

In a world of automation, they are basically hand assembled by these highly skilled German craftsmen. As an example the tolerance on the bore for the pistons is 0.001MM. That is simply amazing. All CAD design and CNC machining no doubt. And on some models the pin striping is applied with a fine brush held by a very steady Germamic hand

Check out these videos....


The engine factory here.


And the bike assembly here.


And the finished product looks like this.....

Until I examined these bikes closely, I thought they were ugly.

So after nearly 6 years aboard MAX-11 (Fat Max) a Yamaha Super Tenere... the attraction for this finely crafted German machine finally overcame my senses.

Like the Lorelei on the rocks singing to call the the sailors, seeing these bikes everywhere, with their Germanic principle of form follows function design... well they called me in too, and caught me.

I weakened, I gave in, I put my money down.

So these fine craftsmen (or craftspeople if you're a PC sensitive type) have been building my new Motorrad in Berlin and now he's finished and is emigrating by boat to Australia as I type this.

Actually to Brisbane.

And in the long tradition of MAX number plates since 1980, this one will be MAX20.

(MAX Instruments was a big part of my life and I like to be reminded of it by these plates)

Spending money on an expensive new motorcycle can be daunting...  but by pouring over spreadsheets, a purchase decision was made including accessories.

Now that all of that is locked in firmly and in the past, the maps are out.. the long trips are being planned.

With sweet anticipation I look forward to welcoming this fine upstanding German immigrant to Australia.... and my garage!


And to help with parking another BMW in a compact garage, Dynamoto.

Ich bin ein Berliner.. yes, at the moment Max, but soon you will say I'm an Aussie mate.. lets go explore this wide brown land together.

He's a bloody beauty!

Yesssss!