NIGE Motorcycle Club

“Lucky, we’re going on a ride….and it might be my last!!” said Nige, “but don’t worry, I might be ok.”

“I wasn’t worried,” replied Lucky. “What ride?”

“Yeah nuh, I’m pretty sick Lucky and I have asked DD for some special prayers.”

“Is it the Aids?”

“Nuh!”

“Corvett 19? That’s a bad one.”

“Yeah Nuh it’s the hernias Lucky,” Nige replied in whispered tones. “And I fear for my life.”

“Can I have your Beemer then? Hey Moey, Nige is having a hysterectomy and he said I can have his bike if he doesn’t pull through.”

“PIG’S ARSE!!!!” Moey bellowed back. “I’m having it. I’ve endured him for years. I’ve earned it!!”

“Shut up you two knuckleheads,” shouted Nige over the top of all this. “Neither of youse can have it. I’m being entombed with it!”

Both knuckleheads seemed satisfied with that so plans moved on as to where the ride might go. Gunnedah.

“I’m out anyway,” Moey confessed later. “It’s Old Sir Fallapart.”

“What’s wrong with Old Sir Fallapart?” asked Lucky with concern.

“Well … he fell apart.”

With Moey up to his elbows in OSF’s icky bits, DD doing God’s work, Barnaby embroiled in an episode of “Orange is the New Black” or something, Rocky working through his retirement years and Dusty still in his final year of employment, that left Nige, Lucky and Boris to carry the flag.

It was cold, of course, when we left Jerry’s and had our first stop at Broke for fuel. When Nige went off for a wee, Lucky spoke quietly to Boris about Nige’s little op. “It’s a hysterectomy Boris and it’s in three parts. His testicles, uterus, and ovaries I think,” leaving Boris somewhat perplexed about Lucky’s understanding of anatomy. “No more babies for Nige now mate.” Lucky added.

“Are you completely sure about that Lucky? It might be a hernia operation you know,” Boris said. “They’re pretty common and should avoid mucking around with the old boy’s tadger.”

At this point, Nige returned and Lucky saw the two of them giggling together and pointing at him. “Easing his pain with humour I suppose,” Lucky assumed. “What a nice man”

 

Onwards to Denman with RL Lucky in his usual position out front (self-elected). Nige refusing to speak to him. for some unknown reason, but Boris and Lucky had a delightful conversation anyway. Nige was on a special no-food diet prior to his little op so drank a healthy ‘No Sugar Coke’ and any question about his presidency was quickly dispelled when he brought out the can.

Meanwhile, Boris had his usual steak the size of a sofa lounge and Lucky had a delightful prawn fettuccine. Lucky helped Boris finish off the last of the red meat as a sign of great friendship.

Now, the usual route over the hills past Willow Tree was washed away. Sad because it was that brand new, finally-all-bitumen section that promised to improve over time. Now it’s all in the gully below. Pity. So we kept north and headed inland over the Breezer Plains and the cotton fields now in full bloom and transients everywhere ready to bale it up and pick our pockets at the same time. That was according to Boris from memory. Nevertheless, we only stopped once when some sheep blocked the road. We kept our hand over our wallets just to be safe.

Anyway, we arrived in Gunnedah around fourish and headed to the bar for a couple before showers. That done we headed upstairs to our single-rooms-no-en-suites. Those cotton-picking transients were in town and had the best rooms. The shared bathrooms were empty and we never spotted anyone in them at any time. Odd. Mind you, they may have risen around four to head out but those bathroom floors and showers were suspiciously dry at all times. The ladies toilets next to Lucky’s room, however, were particularly pungent and made his eyes water every time he entered his room as any odours clearly metamorphosed themselves through his wall. So those toilets clearly had plenty of visitors. Anyhoo, we all went back downstairs and shared beers and whatnot (Nige was drinking the whatnots) and had dinner. It was ok. Boris went off to bed around tenish whilst Lucky and Nige wandered over the road to Maccas for coffee and apple pie.

Next morning was cold. Nige woke up about three hours before he thought he had and went off for a walk. After about 50 kilometres, he realised his error and found his way back to meet up with Boris who had wandered off down to the river and Lucky who didn’t. A few complaints there but on par.

The ride home was the usual with lots of bends and varying speeds to suit. The back of Denman was, as usual, particularly fun. We finally landed at Jerry’s around three. Nige seemed to be having a little trouble getting his leg over his bike. “Is that because of your distended womb Nige?” asked Lucky. “Is that why you’re having the hysterectomy?” At which point Nige looked despondently at the ground, resigned to accept that there was no point correcting Lucky any further. “Yes Lucky, that’s why.”

On a happy note, Nige survived his little op, Moey has new needles for Old Sir Fallapart and DD has probably saved more souls. Hopefully, they will be ready next time.