NIGE Motorcycle Club

It all seemed innocent enough

They had just reopened lots of places after the first wave of Covid and everyone was keen to get back on the bikes even though the lockdown rules were all confused and we were always allowed to ride according to Gladys because it was considered exercise. So trussed up in everything we always wore anyway and without a trace of our infected skin exposed, we all met at Maccas (even though we thought about the Milk Factory) for a repeat trip to Gunnedah. Nige had already told Lucky he would not be drinking on this trip but more about that later.

“Yeah nuh sit down you lot, I won’t arx youse again!! Oh I beg your pardon let me say that again. Yes No welcome gentlemen: Philip, David, Brian, Shannon”

“Hi Nige” said Lucky

“Get me a beer” Said Barnaby exuding street cred.

“Elocution lessons Nige?” giggled Moey

“Burn in hell sinners” Said an exuberant DD ” Let me lay healing hands upon you Barnaby before it’s too late” And with that Barnaby’s lower backpain remained his lower backpain. Undeterred DD smiled benevolently after removing his grip from Barnaby’s shoulders and ducked out quietly to wash his hands for the required twenty seconds with hot soapy water.

“What’s DD doing Unky Momo?” asked Lucky. ” is this because he is a cardinal at the Captains Table?”

Smiling patiently, Moey explained. “Its called the Fathers Table Lucky. Captains Table is a cracker biscuit and he’s not a cardinal, they’re Catholics”

“Oh I see” replied Lucky not understanding at all.

Now, as usual, we all headed North West to Broke where we agreed that Nige and Lucky would not get en-suited rooms. It was all very democratic to a very limited degree. Happily, Nige was given a special upgrade and ended up with palatial accomodation. Lucky slept in a small single bed and hardly complained at all. Even now he remains happy just to be part of the team. From here it was out through Jerrys Plains to Merriwa then on to Willow Tree and landing in Gunnedah around 4.30.

“So we’re agreed Nige. I get the en-suite and Jesus will save your sorry soul”

The pub had good cold beers and, as mentioned earlier, everyone was having a lovely time. For some reason, despite Nige not touching a drop, Lucky and Barnaby set a cracking pace revealing aspects of their private lives best kept secret as the beers and then Bourbons flowed well into the evening. ” You know I’m not missing beer at all” explained Nige as he popped another Sugar Free Coke. “You could perhaps constrain your behaviour a little Philip. Look how your bawdy language has left poor Shannon quite pale” Which was totally lost on poor Lucky who was later invited to leave “With your rowdy friend” by the manager. A few “Tut tuts” from Nige and Lucky and Barnaby went wandering upstairs where Moey and DD had gone some hours earlier.

Earlier that evening. Before the unacceptable behaviour of Lucky and Barnaby.

“Jackpot at last and no one is more deserving than me”

Anyway, everyone had a reasonable sleep and were ready to head out next morning for breakfast and hoping the temperature might rise above Zero. Bacon on everything for everyone except Lucky who couldn’t stomach anything too heavy. Granola was it and a nice juice. The usual sympathy ” I warned you last night Philip about the evils of alcohol” from Nige and “Repent your heathen soul Lucky” from somewhere else.

“This is not helping at all”

Happily the weather did warm up to about 7. Out through Tamba Springs where speed limits seem advisory rather than mandatory  and into Merriwa for a nice pie for lunch. From here we dodged the predicted rain all the way to Jerry’s where, despite his promises not to, DD peeled off for a comfort stop. Nige and Lucky, very concerned for his wellbeing, turned around to look for him and found him safe and sound so that was nice.

Nobody picked up or left any unwanted virus’ and we all agreed that the new self imposed prohibition of Nige didn’t change him that much after all. It poured rain on Nige all the way home from Jerry’s to Bateau Bay. Lucky pulled into his garage at Central Mangrove just as the first drops began to fall.

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“Right, uhmmm Good morning  fellow Niges” said Nige as a hush fell over the exuberant group gathered to listen. “Now because there’s so many heaya today for the annual Bathurst Motogp ride, Im going to call the roll. I will say your name and you will reply with “Heaya”” “Is that cleaya?” “YES NIGE” we all heartily agreed.

“Right, Moey”

“Whatever”. Nige flinched at this disrespect.

“DD”

“Blessings on us all”

“Hmm, Barnaby”

“Yip” (That was Moey because Barnaby was running late and Nige hadn’t noticed)

“Lucky………Lucky……..LAAAAREFFENKEEE!!”

“I wanna go first”

“Shutup Lucky……Boris”

“Present”

“Me… Heaya. Right all accounted for.”

It was, of course, the 2019 Phillip Island Motogp and the hearts of all Australians were riding on the back of one Jack Miller, an unkempt potty mouthed Queenslander who had had some encouraging finishes throughout this season but was determined and promised on his mothers grave that he would win. Or something like that.

So we left at the usual 10am and out through Wollombi to Broke for fuel. New chum, Boris, had had a recent hip replacement so he rode very sensibly. Boris is from England just like Lucky but actually sounds English whereas Lucky kinda doesn’t. Boris does ride a Tiger though so they did have that in common. Everybody else rode their usual and Moey was particularly pleased with how well Old Sir Fallapart was going. “Look at her boys. Like she’s just come off the factory floor! So shiny! So sleek! I especially love her left hand mirror and screen don’t you?” That’s dramatic irony right there. More on that later. Meanwhile DD couldn’t believe how even more deeply in love he was falling with his Versys. “Yep she’s a dead set ripper fellas. I will love and protect her from all harm forever.” Oh yeah!! Mull that over for a bit. “Remember the last time we came to Bathurst boys and everything went went wrong with Redboy” added Lucky. “Well this time things will be different. I got a good feeling about this one for sure” Moey and DD and Lucky. Idiots.

So anyhoo we headed out to Denman in a howling wind but the torrential storm made us forget all about that. We arrived at the pub a bit bedraggled but not too bad and very hungry. Nige avoided the Chicken/Nitroglycerin combo burger that played havoc with his nethers last trip and had a nice something else instead. It came on a wooden board and had bread on it.

A lovely lunch. All 4 would soon be embroiled in shenanigans.

Right, so off we went again and landed in Rylstone for milk and cookies and fuel. From there up and onto Mt Panorama where Boris couldn’t believe we were allowed to ride. “Oh yes Boris my boy, we ride here even when the races are on” Grinned Moey but Boris just gave him a condescending smile developed over hundreds of years enduring antipodeans. “Australians! Quite silly really. Still, one endures what one must endure.” Which was completely lost on the rest of us who only speak a broken kind of babble that most of the time we barely understand ourselves. “What’s a one” asked a very confused Lucky. “Shhhh Lucky. Try not to think too hard” answered Unky Momo.

You’re quite a nice bunch when I can understand you.

Beers at the Knickerbocker, when we eventually found it….again, was up to our usual standard with Boris handling many lagers with dogged determination. Later he announced, “I’ll sort Brexit out next lads, you just watch me” and we all believed him too. Meanwhile shout after shout after shout took us near to closing time. Lucky, full of good ideas ordered Bourbon and Cokes all round and this carried on shout after shout after shout too. The last thing he remembered was that they ran out of Jack Daniels and we had to drink something else with coke. It might have been Bundy but it disappeared before he could recall what happened to it. Anyway, with support and encouragement from the manager, we left the bar and headed off to bed. Next morning we were all bursting to know how Nige’s room was this time. Now, as agreed, he got the best room. It was the lavish number 210 that sits quietly facing a side street with a nice big bed and plenty of room. Lovely bucolic scenes adorned the walls and a 60inch big screen TV featuring Kayo nestled comfortably in the corner. “Didn’t sleep a wink. Was way too noisy and the shower didn’t feel right either. It was too hot but too cold at the same time, plus the fridge rattled like a skeleton, the moonlight came straight through the blinds, nobody picked my clothes up off the floor and I think I’m getting my periods!! Plus there was an errant Bundy and Coke bottle on the floor that I vaguely recall being given to me ” At this point, and speaking on behalf of the gang, Lucky asked the obvious question, “Now Nige, every trip you complain about your room. Is there any chance at all that perhaps you might be a bit of a hard marker?” Surprisingly, Nige remained calm apart from that tell-tale twitch of his eye, paused and replied, “No” and that was that.

Next morning we headed south to Burraga along good roads where speed signs were more or less advisory. “Geez ol’ Redboy feels a bit squirrely through the bends” Mentioned Lucky but nobody paid him any notice as there was powdered coffee and out of date chocolate biscuits to be had. It was pretty hot at this stage so Neither Lucky nor Boris felt up to the hot drinks. “I’ll get us something far nicer” said Boris and came back with two apples for 10 cents each. He tipped the lady shop owner 80 cents on top of that and, given the fairly post-apocalyptic state of the place, was more money than the poor woman had seen for a long time. “I remember me old ma used to talk of gold coins sir but never thought the day would come when I’d see the likes of it.” and she grinned a toothless smile and sent us on our way.

Humble benefactors.

“My head’s still swollen from last nights bevvies but the rest of me feels about right.” “Somebody bang this thing down willya?”

Now, and this was the funny bit, we headed back to Bathurst. Moey swapped bikes with Boris to give Boris’ repairing hip an easier ride than the very tall Tiger which, to this point, Boris had to climb onto like Stan Laurel trying to mount Oprah Winfrey. Off they went with still nobody listening to Lucky’s concerns about his strange handling issues. We all stopped at Rockley. Moey in front, Nige behind him, Lucky next, then Boris on Old Sir Fallapart and next to him was DD. Barnaby was around somewhere thinking about beer. All of a sudden there was a cry of despair as the gravel slipped out from under Boris’ left and still healing leg. He fell sideways onto DD’s Versys knocking it over as well and both were left wriggling out from under two sad looking motorcycles. Moey lifted Old Sir Fallapart up in a flash to find superficial damage to, that’s right, the left hand mirror and screen. “What are the odds boys? My two favourite parts broken.” meanwhile DD was inspecting his damage. “Not too bad fellas, a broken front fender, blinker and fairing panel.” All easily fixed. By this stage Nige was roaring with laughter and taking “pitchers for the report”. OSF wouldn’t start. It simply refused. DD leapt into action. “LORD” he said ” Do something” and wouldn’t you know it, Old Sir Fallapart fired up. “I did that” announced DD proudly. Off we went.

Not entirely aerodynamic at this point. “Me mirror, me beautiful mirror. Oh the humanity.” We say that a lot.

Race time approached as we sat at the Knickerbocker. “Somebody bring me a scoop..err schooner thanking you” said Nige. Nobody did. Barnaby meanwhile wandered over to the computer betting thing and put an absurd bet having Markey and Cal first and second. Nige tipped Marky and Maverick. As the race continued and the beers flowed, it was Marky and Maverick all the way. Then, on the final corner, Maverick fell down. Nige imploded. Barnaby hooted with joy as Cal took second. He’d won a lazy $800 plus. Jack Miller joined them on the podium and hooped and hollered like he’d won the thing. “Shave the goatee off hippy!” yelled Barnaby at the screen. Full on street cred right there!!

“Thanks for your donation Barnaby but this race belongs to me.” Brilliant.

Ok so then we went looking for dinner. The Irish pub put on a meal you couldn’t climb over but the boys did not think much of the Guiness which Barnaby described as something that cats leave in a litter box. He shouted everyone dinner with part of his winnings so we all voted him new President. The vote was 5 for and 1 against but Nige said his vote counted for 6 so that was that. Boris and Lucky hung around to see a fairly dull game of Union and the Springboks beat Wales.

“Im strangling on this muck but it’s still half full.” That scoundrel Nige kept topping him up from his glass. We laughed.

“I love this beer. Its delicious”

Next morning we all had our usual big breakfast thanks to Svetlana whose real name turned out to be Ava. After all these years. Anyway off we went. “I have to get fuel fellas.” That was DD. This threw mass confusion amongst the ranks as riders took off in all directions because nobody really knew who was going where. Eventually we ran into each other outside Bathurst and headed towards Rylstone. All was going well enough until we came to the T intersection of the Castlereagh Highway when DD, possibly still angered by OSF falling onto him yesterday, and overweighed by a full tank, callously rammed Moey from behind sending him out onto the highway and into the path of some hefty looking semi trailers. No harm done as Moey stayed to the side of the road and managed to stay on the bike. His neck did snap back on impact and both Lucky and Nige roared with laughter. “Fight, fight, fight” they yelled hoping for some good old street justice when Moey pulled over and removed his helmet. That was not to be. DD was quite repentant when faced with the towering rage of Moey about to rain hellfire down on him. “Oh no Moey” he wailed. “So sorry brother. I have wronged thee most violently and call humbly for your forgiveness. I will pay for this sin in the next life. For truly the bible doth say “Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me, for me, for me.” “I think that’s from Leviticus” By this stage DD was pretty much incoherent with grief but they hugged it out anyway and all was well. And on we went.

About twenty Ks down the road we were stopped at one of those temporary red lights while roadworks were being carried out. “Hey Lucky, watch me bang into the back of Moey’s bike.” “Yeah do it Nige that’ll be a hoot.” And so paddling his way up behind Moey who was sitting stationary and listening to The Best of Dame Joan Sutherland or whatever Nige gave him a good old bump. Moey stayed on again but,ironically, Lucky nearly fell off from laughing so hard. “Woohoo Nige do it again do it again” He squeeled with glee but Nige said that Moey had suffered enough.  He’s good like that.

Then, “Something not right here” said a hapless Lucky as Redboy still felt very loose and worsening in the front end. At Rylstone he checked the front tyre and steering bearings. All good there. Swaying and meandering his way through bends, Lucky began to doubt his own abilities when Unky Momo pulled him over out past Denman. “There’s your problem Lucky old son.” He said with avuncular concern.”Your rear tyre looks to have very little air left in it.” Luckily Moey had spare gas cylinders on board and the tyre was pumped up enough to get to Broke and then on to Jerry’s where replacing a split valve sorted that problem out. “Goes like a bought one” said Lucky and simply avoided looking at the semi-melted edges of his Pilot Road 5.

Moey sorting out Lucky’s problems….again.

Back to Jerry’s. A good weekend with lots of interesting things. Nige the only one who had no issues with his rides. Even Barnaby, riding Nige’s old Ninja, had some issues with cavitation in the fuel tank whatever that means.

Oh Right. The heading of this report. Well what happened was Lucky, leading, was sending messages to Nige about oncoming traffic via their Senas. After many, many overtaking manoeuvres, Lucky may or may not have mixed up a call about whether or not the road ahead was clear and leaving Nige slightly exposed at one stage. Sorry Geoffrey. Giggle.

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“Whaddya mean Baranaby’s not coming Nige?” a near hysterical Lucky squeeled, “He’s our best street cred, our only street cred. How’re we gonna order those big beers we always get if he’s not there???”

“Yeah nuh, rest assured Lucky” and, turning to Moey, “Don’t worry Numnuts, I’ll do the ordering” replied Nige, pumping himself up to his full still-under-six-foot-chest-out-tummy-in grandiosity. This seemed to calm Lucky down but he remained unconvinced despite Nige’s guarantees and settled back into his luke warm Maccas babycino. “Well I hope you’re right Nige ‘cos I like beer a lot.” Yeah nuh, not as much as me but.” “I know, I know” conceded Lucky.

It was the middle of winter and numbers were down. Moey, Lucky, and Nige were it. “Why isn’t Barnaby coming anyway?” asked Lucky. “Dunno Meister. It’s cold and he probably couldn’t fit his fluffy slippers into his make-up case or something.” Yep, Nige was in full flight but, again, it seemed to satisfy Lucky. “Oh yeah, that makes sense. It is cold”

At this point Moey, who had been listening to this exchange with only minor interest (having heard them many times before), shuffled off for another half-decaf-skim-milk-soy-dusted-caramalised-butterscotch-latte in a ladies slipper. “I dont care if people stare he said, they’re delicious and I love them.” “I’ll finish this and we can go” Ten minutes and ninety six sips and “Ah Lovelys” later we headed out towards Gunnedah.

It was pretty cold heading through Wollombi and a quick stop at Broke so Lucky and Moey could top up and Nige could retell us the advantages of his BMW’s fuel tank. “Its bigger’n the Hindenberg boys and goes just as good.” “What’s that smug look about Brian? Why’re you giggling Lucky?” But Lucky and Moey kept the joke between themselves. “Oh the humanity!!” whispered Moey and both snickered all the way back to the bikes. “Idiots” mumbled Nige.

The rain stayed away and we rode on to Denman pub for a bit of lunch which was okay in a not-a-pie kind of way. From there it was on to Willow Tree for a quick beer and a stretch. Back on and we were off to what Nige had said would be a dirt track up and over the hills before the last stretch into Gunnedah. “Wouldn’t it be great if they seal that section” Lucky said and when we got closer we could see all the heavy machinery in the middle of doing just that. The strong smell of fresh tar was quite enticing as we slipped and wobbled our way for about ten ks over it till we were back on decent bitumen.

And so we arrived in Gunnedah around 4 in the afternoon and immediately went looking for The Gunnedah Hotel.

“For f%#*s sake it’s around here somewhere Moey” “I smell beer and I’ve got my drinking pants on”

And so after turning around and whooping with delight, Nige led us in. “Now remember Lucky, I’ll do the ordering.” ” Three large scoopers please madame wiff froff on the top.” “You city boys are yers?” the well-worn serving lass asked after a quick up and down of each of us. “Did yers bring rain with ya” whilst deciphered Nige’s order. “Hereya love” placing three schooners on the bar. “See told ya we didn’t need Barnaby” announced Nige proudly.

We took turns in ordering scoopers for the rest of the evening and this made us very weary so we each retired to our newly renovated rooms. Nige demanded the best room as usual and received the same respect from the staff as at every other hotel we had stayed at ever in the history of us staying in pubs.

Lucky’s usual palatial room. Classic Greek-style spa bathroom through that door. Moey’s was even bigger and more Greeky.

Nige’s room.

Next morning the sun was shining but it was even colder. At 8 it was 1 degree but by 10 it was 7. Perfect. Lucky had heated grips and seats and was toasty warm. He gently nudged the starter button and the Tiger responded with a gentle mew and settled into a contented purr. Moey pushed his starter button and Old Sir Fallapart erupted into life with a pleasing crackle and quickly relaxed into a menacing growl. Nige beat the cowering GSA over the tank and windshield with a bucket he’d found “Out back” and it started too.

We filled up, not Nige, and headed south-east towards home. Now out the back of somewhere and at go-to-gaol speeds Old Sir Fallapart took a stone through the radiator and began spewing steam and boiling water. Off with the tank and it was a hearty all-the-best-Brian-I’ll-tell-Anna-you-love-her farewell from Nige who continued on homewards leaving Moey and Lucky languishing by the side of the road.

“Yeah look Moey, Its been fun and all but I got KAYO waiting at home.”

Hard to believe it could all end like this.

AND THEN HE WAS BACK!!!!!. “Ya wouldn’t believe it Brian but there’s a small town ahead and they had pepper and water for sale. I thought youse two could have that for dinner while youse wait for a miracle” “Nige!!” said Moey. “You glorious man, you are the miracle!! I can use that pepper to seal up the hole in the radiator and the water can top it up!!” “Yeah nuh” said Nige “You’d need a much grainier blend of pepper to seal this” “Nuh yeah, this is perfect” said Moey “Watch this” And it did. With a bit of fiddle-faddling along the various fuel and food stops along the way, Old Sir Fallapart stayed together all the way back to Jerrys.

So coffee and such and manly hugs at Jerrys ended the adventure. Nige was still insisting that the fine ground pepper will never seal up the hole and Moey insisting that it already had, pointing to the dry ground now under the ZRX.

“No it hasn’t” said Nige after an uncomfortable pause.

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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

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And so it was raining. Nothing new about that. So there we were all draped in gladwrap. The MotoGp ride was on again and this time we headed west again for the first time ever to Bathurst and the Knickerbocker….again. Nige, Lucky, Mohawke, Sideways, and Black Santa. All with varying degrees of permission from wives. So much love in amongst the skinny cappucinos and butterscotch lates. “haven’t seen youse forever old chums” etc and other one-step-short-of-gender-confusion cuddles and we were off. Did I mention the rain? It rained. All the way to Bylong. Then it stopped. Then it got cold. We all shivered a bit and were pretty sooky by the time we stopped at Rylstone.

“Do something Black Santa” we all pleaded. ” This wevver is unpossible” said Lucky the Advanced English HSC teacher.

“Now fellas the good lord knows his business and it will turn out to be a dead set ripper of a day.” but Black Santa was wrong. It got a bit colder. “I love the rain, it invigorates me” said Sideways which surprised us all.

Sideways kickin it old school after a double mochachino.

Anyway we finally made our way into Bathurst with all the usual confusion about which streets to take to get round the back of the pub. We’ve only been here about a thousand times. It’s like two turns.

Now, because we were all so cold 80% of the gang thought it a good idea to shower up and meet at the bar in twenny. Except for Nige, “Hey youse blokes I’m still the president heya and demand you drink heavily alongside me whilst I tell youse how I love Markeeeeee way more that any of youse. Youse can knock one over or whatever in the showers later. Don’t test me or there’s gonna be tahwubble”

Twenty minutes later, after a delightful shower, we returned to find Nige still berating us. “….. and I expect nuffing but honor and respect and obedience from youse all and did I mention how much I love Markeeeeeee way more than any of youse. Somebody buy me a XXXX Gold. Thanking youse!!!” Strangely, by this stage Nige was sitting apart from the other patrons who had gathered waaaaay over the other side of the bar area and seemed overly interested in their half-empty glasses and mumbling something about not making eye-contact with the ‘angry man’.

A bunch of what we assumed to be uni student girls were dressed up as pirates and some of them were wanting photos with them on top of a pyramid of gentlemen from around the bar. Now Lucky was not aware that pirates wore fish net stockings and asked Moey if they were real pirates, “Well Luckmeister, think about it, where would they park their pirate ship in Bathurst.” and Black Santa added, “They’re just brazen hussies Lucky. Don’t pay them no nevermind. I’m right aren’t I Sideways?” But Sideways and Moey were by now already forming the base of a pretty dodgy looking pyramid and Sideways was pushing for innovation so Moey had to sort him out. “You have to face downwards Bobby or the girls wont climb on”

It took some time and a bit of scrapping around for white tee shirts but we finally put together a pretty fair effort. That’s Sideways in the pink. He’s really strong.

You know how Moey’s bike is really old right? We’ve talked about that in the past. Well his right side crankcase cover was metal on metal when he pulled it apart to check some kind of noise he was unsure of. “Last time I replaced my fiddliochronogizmeechain I’m sure I gave the mechanics at Chuckawaythegaskets in Newcastle a brand new gasket after they finished fitting the swazneebocker back on. Its a real mystery what they did with it.” So there he was sitting in the dirt at the back of the pub worrying what might become of him if old Fallapart couldn’t make the trip home. “Fellas we might have to go home through Lithgow and stay on the big road just in case the worst should happen” said Moey. Nige pointed out that, as per club policy subsection 12.7a “..All riders and especially Moey and his shitbox Kawasaki must travel on roads where no help at all is available and, wherever possible, be out of phone tower range” So no joy there for Moey. “Look old mate, if worst comes to worst one of us will double you home and send help back for whatever’s left of Ol’ Fallapart. How’s that?” Nige offered whilst we all giggled behind our hands. Except for DD who thought the offer was genuine. “So Lucky, are we going to share the responsibilies between us on who carries Brian and what about his luggage? Brian’s luggage lucky. How will we disperse it equally? I don’t want the part with his underpants in it!” Things were getting a bit out of control by this point so we all ate ice creams to calm down.

“You know what Dave, when we get home I’m gonna install an ice cream holder on my handlebars and eat these wherever I go. And I’ll get a blue one for the Klunker.”

Our usual ride around on Sunday just didn’t happen because it was too cold and there was only a slim hope that Moey might make it back anyway. Instead we went for a little wander around the town and discovered there was at least another road away from the Knickerbocker with shops on it. “Who’d have guessed this Nige?” said Lucky, “Why, we’re like Columbus or Captain Cook or…or.. or General Pants and other great explorers!” Lucky also teaches Senior History. Meanwhile Black Santa toddled off to church. “I think it was for the three free wishes you get there.” said Lucky the former Religion teacher. “That must be where they keep the Genie!!”

And the race was on. Because we had watched the earlier races and tried some new drinks or because we were all so concerned about Moey’s issues, tee hee, we didn’t have our usual bets on who would win and placegetters etc. Of course Nige was all “I’m the only one allowed to bet on Markeeeee because I love him so much.” and we were all, “Whatever you want Mr Atrill because we have nothing but respect for your position as club president.” (You know…until The Supreme Ruler of the Universe and its Environs stages another coup.) Markeeee fell off and Nige thought that was a real bummer, “That’s a real bummer” he said and switched off the set. We never found out who won.

“Markee didn’t win David. Select a random member of the club and kill him please.”

Monday Morning was nice. At the Knickerbocker, breakfast is included in the price. You have a wide selection to choose from but you only get the one meal the Polish lady cooks for you all. It’s a plate piled high with a potpourri of carnage: bacon, sausages, eggs, and other stuff. We tried for a variety of how to get the eggs cooked but no luck there either. Although she seemed friendly I think we were all a bit worried about ending up in the gulag so we just ate without complaint. Nige thought she was wonderful.

Lucky had ordered Eggs Benedict with Smoked Salmon. Disappointed? I think so.

Despite Moey’s misgivings we made it safely back to Gerry’s for some awkward man-love moments and a nice coffee. I don’t know if Moey actually made it all the way home from there but ah well.

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