NIGE Motorcycle Club

Scrounger and Nige met at the usual haunt and we had old man coffee and old man raisin toast and then we talked about where we were actually going and how to get there and then we went and looked at our bikes and then Nige politely commented on how old and shitty Scrounger’s GS was compared to his beaut new(ish) one and then we got on the bikes and headed off at a leisurely pace with Scrounger leading the way out via the usual route to Broke and around our not so new or secret back track where Nige stood up to alleviate bum pressure and suddenly after a quick smack under the chin his snazzy glasses disappeared into the ether because Scrounger who was right behind didn’t even see them come off and then we kept going until we arrived at Denman where we headed directly to the hotel for some liquid refreshments because did I mention it was hot and then we had some good food to eat and them we got back on our bikes and rode the Golden Highway to Merriwa where Scrounger needed to refuel but after coming back from a slash Nige said to Scrounger that he hoped that puddle of fluid on the ground had not come out of his ageing GS so Scrounger quickly moved the bike to escape the evidence but unfortunately the puddle of oil magically reappeared under Scrounger’s GS now renamed Exxon Valdez and was flowing faster than the Darling River and then we worked out it was escaping around the oil level viewing window but we could not see the top of the oil so figured it must still have plenty and a bit spare in there and headed off on the back road to Willow Tree past where a previous Nige MC trip had ended with the president having an altercation with a drunken whip that caused a very nasty cut to his forehead and after some lovely roads and some unlovely roadworks we arrived at Willow Tree and then we went to the pub because did I mention it was hot and we had another beer while Exxon waited outside purging itself of even more oil but we still could not see the top of the oil and so we figured it still had some and a bit spare and then we headed off towards Quirindi but didn’t so went to Gunnedah and found ourselves at the Gunnedah Hotel and then we parked Exxon and the GSA in the carpark and waited for the oil level to drop enough for it to stop leaking out the little window but after 1 minute that was boring and then we went in and drank beer and then we went up to check out our rooms but one was better that the other and so I said to Scrounger he could just pick a key out of my hand and bugger me he picked the best room although he would argue this the next morning because the room was so big that the piddly air conditioner was unable to keep poor little Scrounger cool enough for him to properly concentrate on rubbing one out but after the first few beers we felt like explorers and so we headed off to discover how many other establishments in Gunnedah sold the nectar called Great Northern and this became somewhat of a quest for the remaining journey but when we visited the Gunnedah RSL a staff member had the audacity to tell Nige to remove his presidential hat and then Nige queried the reasoning behind this inane rule but the little girlie was prepared with a response that did not satisfy the eternal question about hats in clubs but not pubs or shops or service stations or butchers or doctors or everywhere else so Nige gave a small friendly salute just using the minimum of two digits as we departed the club in search of other places where a hat could still be worn and beer purchased and then we went back to the Gunnedah Hotel where we enjoyed healthy vegan steak and pizza covered in all sorts of even healthier stuff and then we drank some more nectar after Scrounger was disgusted with the poor selection of overpriced la-di-da wines and then we went to our rooms and did whatever private and secret things people do when they go to their rooms like Sideways always used to do before he became a non-riding member as a result of his meeting with the bush near Jerry’s and then we had some sleepy time until the heat exchanger outside my window kicked in for the night shift and Scrounger’s little air conditioner that thought it could couldn’t and then eventually it was morning and Scrounger thought that a visit to the Golden Arch’s across the road was the way to make up for lost sleep and fill our poor little starved bellies but that was until they gave us what big burgers who have babies make and we were disgusted and Nige left most of his behind and even his coffee that was anything but lava java and then we went and checked on the oil slick out the back of the pub where Exxon had spent the night dribbling and then we decided that something had to be done and so we went up the road to the motorbike/pushbike shop that every town should have and Scrounger regaled the owner with tales of heroic riding on oil slicked tyres and footpegs before deciding that he was useless and headed further afield to the AutoPro while Nige had spotted an eBike in the motorbike/pushbike shop that every town should have and shared stories of speed and endurance with the owner and there was just a little bit too much thigh fondling before Nige joined Scrounger at the AutoPro so that he could annoy the blokes behind the counter and make friends wherever he travels and they had sold Scrounger on the Dynasteel and degreaser solution and he scabbed a rag because he was too tight to buy some and decided that more oil was an even sillier option and then we rode our trusty steeds to Mudgee and stayed in a lovely hotel and then had a drink or two and a bacon and egg roll for breaky and then we packed up and then we rode home.

It was good.

The End