After getting away half an hour later than I wanted, I head for the north-eastern suburbs of Melbourne as an act of homage to how I used to get to Healseville and the famed Black Spur pass up to Marysville. Of course, the toll roads have been completed and I got lost, so it wasn’t quite the old way I used to go. But after filling up just past Ringwood I start my way up to Healseville. After a brief pit stop I’m on my way up the Spur.

The BMW is a joy to drive. Loads of torque down low and needing no downshifts to gain momentum, you find yourself shuffling down gears just to take in the the wonderful noises made by that 3.0L straight six. It burps and rumbles as you move up the gears and makes a tremendous growl on each change down the box.

Most of this is ruined by the morons who insist on staying on the road while doing about 60kph up the Black Spur. I gave them plenty of room to pull over, as would be the courteous thing to do. But pig-headed Australianism (or should I say dickheaded?) and that “you won’t get infront of me” attitude ruins the drive up most of the mountain. So incredibly frustrating.

After making it to Marysville I push on to Woods Point, except the Z4’s GPS has tracked the fast way via the highway, a different route from what I had planned to use via the less-well known Reefton Spur. After a 40-odd kilometre return detour, I jumped on the Reefton Spur to be greeted by an amazing stretch of road with mainly slow- to medium- speed corners, lined in yellow and marked by yellow posts (an indication of snow through the winter; although it was 5degrees as I drove up...) It took until the time I got to Camberville to realise why my GPS ignored this route; the road turned into gravel (Colin Peacock, you’re a smart man). And while it would have been fine for a four-wheel-drive, or anything that wasn’t stiffly sprung with run-flat rubber and zero ground clearance, it was a no-go. But stupid me persisted for maybe 10km before finally giving up. 65kph of gravel when going no faster than 40kph was a task too great for me, and I was worried about getting a puncture, or worse, buckling a rim. So I ate humble pie and turned around to go down the Reefton Spur and go through Marysville a third time to get to Mansfield.

I made decent time to Mansfield and had to eat and make a pit stop. I finally got to have a chicken parmagiana (and it was amazing), and now satisfied, I filled up the Bimmer, admired how filthy it was after the drizzle and gravel it copped while doing the Reefton Spur, and proceeded on to Whitfield.

The drive to Whitfield was fantastic. Fast, well-surfaced and dry, the Bimmer set a cracking pace. One little scare on a very brutal tightening left-hand hairpin was the only drama (user error) on an otherwise very rewarding drive north. A left turn at Whitfield led me onto Wangaratta, where I took the opportunity to wash the car and give it back some pride and credibility. I think it’s a great-looking car. While not as brash as its predecessor, the Z4 still carries visual punch with its long hood and wide rump. Sitting almost over the rear axle allows for pleasing proportions and, while being a black car, it’s not hard to get good photos of it.

By this stage of the trip, I figured out my route planning lacked a lot of detail; namely route numbers and towns enroute. So I improvised as best I could and turned the car towards Myrtleford via the Great Alpine Road. I was assured of a straight-forward run out to Running Creek along the Happy Valley Highway, and I wasn’t disappointed. Another fast stretch of road, there’s plenty of inclines and descents to keep you guessing what sort of corner is coming up next. Running Creek consisted of so little I didn’t even make a mental note of what was there, so I went on to Kiewa and a long way past where I thought I’d stop driving for the day. Turning right before Lake Hume takes you towards Corryong, tracing the south-eastern shoreline of the water source for some time. It was another good stretch of road, and although not as interesting as the earlier drives, the high average speeds that could be maintained ensured interest was kept up. I stayed up around 120kph most of the way because I was afraid I wouldn’t make it to Corryong before night fall.

I needn’t have worried; after arriving at 6:15pm and checking into the Courthouse Hotel, there was still some two hours of sunlight left in the day. The run up to Tumbarumba might not have been out of the question, but I wasn’t sure of their facilities and I had a guaranteed bed here, so an earlyish night and a good dinner wasn’t the worst idea for the road trip either.

The facilities here at the Courthouse are great, too! Mum would have been pleased to know each room had a smoke detector installed. I don’t think she’d have been too pleased to know my detector had no batteries in it (presumably removed for use in the TV’s set-top box, which was stuffed anyway). But aside from the only two things I wanted to work not be working, the room was fine. It had a shower, a bed and power points to charge all the toys and that’s all I cared for. For $48, who am I to complain?

Monday was an early start; I figured I should make up for being late the day before and getting stuck in traffic. So with a fuel tank nearing empty and some 440km between me and Canberra, I set off for Tumbarumba. It was a beautiful day, too. A little over 10 degrees and streaming sunshine, it was the sort of weather the roadster was invented for. I fairly smashed the little BMW, too. The fast flowing roads well-suited to speeds a bit above the legal limit.
A fuel and breakfast stop at Tumbarumba was all I needed before continuing on with the next big stint to Cooma. The drive to Tumut was fairly leisurely; I got stuck at a red light for a while to highlight said leisurely pace, but with the unbeatable weather it would have been criminal to complain. And after Tumut, everything got so much better.
There was no distinct point on the Tumut-Cooma run where the road all of a sudden reached a level around amazing or awesome. As the road snaked its way up the mountain range and the road markings changed to yellow, I found myself getting more and more involved in keeping a swift pace in the Z4. The drive essentially downhill towards Blowering Reservoir was fantastic; I could go on about the sweepers and how they tightened up into 3rd gear turns before loosening up again into glorious straights around crests, but that would detract from the 7km of breathtaking tarmac I hit passing Tumut Power Station Number 3. Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever had to deal with so many 2nd and 3rd gear corners in my life. The run over Mt Nebo and Mt Glorious may be longer, but it’s nowhere near as technical as this particular stretch on the Snowy Mountains Highway. A 60km/h speed limit and indication signs as low as 25 were warning enough about the technical level required to drive at speed.

As I think back while writing this, it still makes my heart race. I’m no Schumacher, but jeez I had a great time over that piece of road. Seriously, words don’t come close to describing how good it is. There was no traffic, the surface condition was good, and to make things better it was clear and crisp; perfect for having the roof down and the seat warmers cranked with an outside temperature of 6 degrees.

That’s not to say the rest of the drive was a letdown; far from it. The scenery, the space available, the car, the road itself all conspired to make that part of the road trip the most memorable for absolute driver involvement. Glancing over the map as I write this is enough to give me goose bumps. It’s almost silly the engineers laid the road they did, such is its brilliant blend of corners over rises, dips and crests. It was just gob-smackingly good. I know people talk about doing great driving roads throughout Europe and the States, but before you go off and spend tens of thousands of dollars to do that, take a look closer to home and check out what is available on your doorstep. Hand on heart, these are the best roads I’ve ever driven.

Okay guys, this is a very controversial topic. Here's the unedited footage of the Steve Nogas incident.

What seems to have happened is that the driver Steve Nogas was told he was disqualified for reason stemming back to his qualifying burnout (disobeying a fire mashal), he forced his car through a group of officials and on to the track, and after the burnout he was escorted from the track and his car towed away.

Could have been handled a little better from both sides, but forcing your way on to the track is definitely the wrong way to go.

I've posted this video to provide a little clarity to the incident.