Adventure Riders Latest
Just a group of mates that enjoy getting out on our Adventure bikes most weeks with the occasional longer trip
Sterling & Southern loop around the Fleurieu
Date: 1 November 2025
Riders: Jonny (Route Commander), Barry (Trail-tool Guardian) Rick & Gravel Hound
Distance: Approx 275kms
"Don’t Rattle My Cage"
It was barely 8:00 a.m. at the Stirling Hotel, and the morning air was thick with the smell of coffee, chain lube, and bravado. The crew gathered: Jonny the Route Commander, Rick (fashionably late, though that tale’s best left for him to explain), Barry the Trail Tool Guardian, and yours truly, Gravel Hound.
The mood was high, caffeine levels decent, and everyone was eager to give these bikes a workout. This was shaping up to be one of those rides where reputations — would the bigger Japanese bikes be able to handle the Austrian pressure? — and fuel ranges and resolve were about to be tested.
The Austrian Uprising
We rolled out of Stirling and wound through Aldgate before ducking onto the tracks off Churchill Road. The two small Austrian warriors — a pair of KTM 390 Adventures — didn’t exactly charge off in front; more, they pushed the pace from behind, snapping at the heels of the bigger bikes like orange-clad terriers with something to prove.
Up front, the Route Commander appeared firmly in control, leading the Japanese contingent on the Africa Twin, with Rick riding shotgun on the Tenere 700 in a unified defence against the upcoming serious assault from the little Austrian missiles. They looked the part — broad-shouldered, imposing, and built for long hauls. But in the twistier dirt, the mid- and heavyweights appeared a little worried, because they knew the KTMs had a point to prove with Barry on a mission as he darted through ruts and puddles with effortless cheek all the while chewing on a Japanese dust trail.
You could almost hear the Austrian engineers somewhere in Mattighofen chuckling, “Lightweight, ja — but mighty fast!” (Pity they hadn’t done something with the geometry to make it resemble more of a true dual-sport bike. I know the learner and beginner market is probably where it was pitched, but if they try to keep up with their mates on the dirt it might demoralise them — and the sport could lose them. Come on KTM, sort it out!)
Through Meadows and Macclesfield
We skirted Macclesfield, hit a brief stretch of bitumen along White’s Road, then crossed Macclesfield Road again for another hit of dirt. The Route Commander kept us in line through the twisties toward Meadows.
Pushing hard were the KTMs, with Barry occasionally reminding the crew they were holding us up — punctuating it with his trademark quote: “Don’t rattle my cage unless it’s feeding time.”
And feeding time it almost was. By the time we exited Cleland Gully Road, a small detour had snuck into the plan (thanks, Jonny), but no one complained — especially once the smell of Compass Community Bakery pies drifted through the visors.
Lunch was the kind of simple perfection only country bakeries can deliver: flaky pastry, strong coffee, and stories that grew taller with every bite.
Post-pie, we pushed south past Spring Mount Conservation Park, where the gravel turned glorious — fast, flowing, and grippy enough to make everyone look like a Dakar hopeful.
The lush the Mount Compass region was once known for dairy farming and peat extraction, still a fair bit of dairy farming going on. Back in the early 1900s, the dark soil was being shipped north to enrich the gardens of Adelaide’s finest. These days, it enriches adventure riders’ souls instead.
Further along, at Yankalilla, we stopped for fuel and a cold drink. The 390s still looked fresh; but the bigger bikes sensed they were beat and looked like they were quietly considering a lie-down and a sports drink.
Austria 1 – Japan 0 (But Who’s Counting?)
The ride toward Myponga was nothing short of spectacular — rolling farmland, sweeping bends, and that classic South Aussie combination of gravel, gum trees, and grin. On the return leg toward Mount Compass, the little KTMs were having a ball. The Route Commander and Ricky pushed on a bit, finding our rhythm we all managed a spirited ride without getting too much out of hand.
The Africa Twin thundered along, majestic but most probably slightly out of breath, because the two pint-sized KTMs pushed it hard like a pair of orange wasps on espresso. Lightweight vs. middleweight vs. heavyweight — and this time the featherweights were calling the tune: “Don’t rattle my cage unless it’s feeding time!”
Heading Home
Back on familiar territory, we blasted along Bahloo Glen Road, skirted Keema Conservation Park, and carved our way through to Kangarilla, almost entirely on dirt. At the junction of Kangarilla Road and Cut Hill Road, I waved the crew farewell — my day was done.
As I turned the little KTM for home, I imagined the others finishing back at Stirling, helmets off, retelling the day’s heroics over a cold one — with Barry flying the flag for us KTM 390 riders and claiming moral victory, the Tenere managing to hold its dignity, and the Africa Twin muttering something about front-tyre pressures.
Final Thoughts from the Trail Tool Guardian
Barry, ever the philosopher, summed it up perfectly as we allowed the dust to settle on another fantastic ride: “Don’t rattle my cage unless it’s feeding time.”
Fair enough, mate — especially after six hours of dust, laughter, and friendly rivalry between the Austrian lightweights and the Japanese heavy artillery.
In the end, horsepower didn’t matter — it was all about mateship, mischief, and miles. And as every adventure rider knows, that’s what makes the dirt taste just a little sweeter.
Thank you as ever, Route Commander, for all your hard work. Barry and Rick — thanks for the company. Those of you who were absent, you missed a really great ride.
