Friday, July 17, 2009

Where the fcuk is Bomaderry??   No 13 (The last)

Distance from Stockers: 25,018 kms
Distance form home: 57,568 kms
Top speed: 164 kph (Russia)



" Hoping to ride it till the wheels fall off & burn, & the sun peels the paint & the seat cover fades"
Bob Dylan, via Paul Rooney.


A wet road. A slippery concrete gutter. Max speed 2kph. Down like a brick and tile glider. An ambulance to hospital, a few fractured and dislocated bones in my foot. It helps when you are travelling with a Paramedic. A two hour operation, nine days in a Japanese prison (hospital) $7,500 later and a business class air ticket home, what lessons have I learnt. Probably none! Fcuk me!!! What a bastard!!!! Thank Christ for my travel insurance. Crutches for 6 weeks and off the bike for 3 fcuking months. What a bastard. That's the end of this little trip. I suppose it was a good thing I did not do it in Mongolia or Eastern Russia.

The boys from "Hovel 8" came to see me a couple of times before they all headed to Vietnam via Bangkok, Kim went as well. See them in Sydney next year, Anton in 2 years. The hospital and staff were great. My favourite was Chi, 24 years old and 38 kilos wringing wet. And she was on a diet! Took 8 of them to lift me on to my bed the first day! Fcuk it, I had to come home 4 months early.

Half my family met me at the airport in Sydney. Why, were they worried about about me? Don't they know I am the man they couldn't root, shoot or electrocute? And were the fcuk is Bombaderry? About 140 or so kms south of Sydney, my little sister and brother-in-law live there, (just down the road from Dave Grey), they are trying to kill me with kindness. Tanyia has lent me a car. A bit sad when your niece has a spare car that is better than your own was! How good is that!! Sydney is nice this time of year, but then I hear, so is Vancouver.


On the first day, God created the Heavens, the Earth, and the Oxley Highway. But He wasn't happy. His Kingswood would sway through the corners, crawl up the hills and use heaps of juice.

On the second day, God created the Honda step-through. He enjoyed the wind in His hair (He hadn't created helmets then), and it was fun to ride and used bugger all fuel, but it still crawled up the hills.

So on the third day, God created the Honda Four, and it flew up the hills. With four-into-ones, it sounded okay, it never broke down, but the corners remained a problem. Yet he had tasted power, and craved for more.

Thus on the fourth day, He added two more cylinders and so created adrenalin. His insurance premium doubled and it cost a fortune to service. He also created fear (His hair turned white) and the cliche "Enough is enough".

On the fifth day, God blew a couple of joints with Willie G and created the Harley-Davidson. He'd cruise the hills in top gear and pick up heaps of babes. He got off on the note. But it was too heavy, broke down a lot and handled like the Kingswood.

Then on the sixth day, He made the Bonneville. It still attracted the girls and it sounded good, too. This bike was light and for the first time, corners were fun. It handled! God was stoked. But the vibration pained His arse, it wanted for power and He ran out of petrol every 100 miles. He wasn't happy, but shit he was close.

So finally, on the seventh day, God produced a motorcycle with the speed of the Honda, the torque of the Harley and the handling of the Triumph. He could afford the fuel, tune it himself, pick up chicks and still blow off Ducatis through the corners.

He called his bike, "Rooney Special", and He was happy.


Does it get any better? I think, just a little.

Chris.
17th October 2008.



ps. One operation turned into two. Six weeks on crutches turned into four months. Three months off the bike turned into six months. Eight months off work, thank Christ for Sydney Ferries.

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