From the great fire emerged so terrible a scourge that none could have forseen it. Without fear nor favour did the cursed covid lay havoc and ruin to all who fell before it.

But a few would not weary. They would not tire and they would not foresake the dream of Rooney Tune 2020.

They will emerge from all over this broad and undeniably flat earth (possibly not from Victoria). They will traverse mountains, deserts, forests, dunes, and indeed entire states (possibly not Victoria).  And, in the far east they will seek  a place of refuge. A place where lay such things that please a Certified Rooney Looney.  And even upon their travels they would pass through such places and features and bare witness to many amazing things that could not be found anywhere else (though possibly in Victoria but who could know right?).

At last, despite all evils sent to thwart their progress the most intrepid would gather at the only known safe haven from pandemics and politics. I speak of course, of the Riverside fortress of Copmanhurst.

Ahh yes. For there a Rooney Looney might find peace among their kin.  They will feast upon both the spoils and tales of the road. No, not that kind of spoils, but the kind one procures of the general stores of those hamlets and villages ravaged by the fires and the cursed covid. And they will speak of these good deeds they have done with mirth and camaraderie as they share a toast at the Copmanhurst ale house or a coffee in the reflection of the sunrise upon a rested Clarence River.

In this way, at this place, on the 21st day of the 8th month of the year 2020 they will come together again, for only the second time since people emerged from the stone-age (or Victoria).

And good people – let it be known also that, upon the eve before this great event (the 20th), the one known as Rocket has upon the goodness of his heart offered weary travellers respite in the form of a BBQ and parking upon his landholdings in the Township of Armidale. More so, can Rocket Rod provide direction and guidance or even his own good company upon journey from there to our chosen destination.  As the modest Rocket Rod seeks not fame nor fortune for this deed I do not speak of his location beyond the township (ed> if you are on the mailing list you will be informed or send me a message here for details).

As it is often in their nature other Rooney Looneys will seek to make their own way to Copmanhurst and it is not uncommon for them to witness the more intriguing things that surround. Of course that is only if they are not stopped all together by the Tanks Traps on Paddys Flat Road Tooloom. failing that trap anyone coming in from the north could do worse than getting “lost” anywhere between Urbenville, Bonalbo and Boonoo Boonoo.  Unless it was you happened upon the ghost of another local named Captain Thunderbolt.  Beware indeed intrepid traveller, there are plenty of ghosts around.  Careful not to find oneself waylaid in the dark of the convict tunnel on the old Glenn Innes road, haunted perhaps after passing through the Ghost town of Dalmorton.

All of this lies only a little north of the Oxley Highway, renown to be one of the finest bits of motorcycling magic  in the world. One emerging at the peak of that experience (or travelling north on the A15) could do worse then a jaunt a little south to the Powerhouse Motorcycle Museum in Tamworth.

Those who happen upon to be heading in from the north and north east may find the magic twists and turns and troughs and ridges might hide a bigger picture. The peak of Mt Warning, spectacular in itself is a mere mile-marker indicating you’re on, or indeed in, one of the biggest erosion caldera in the world. I do not need to tell you good Rooney Looneys that this be the home of Dragons.

Beware the Covid. Beware the Dragons fire. Beware the ghosts and their traps. Feed the bellies of the good people of the small hamlets they torment by feeding your own with their produce. Gather you all once more and make good upon a toast to the motor – cycle, not in comparison, that dangerous at all.