“Oh Bugga.” Part 1
Hi Ya Gang, “Never Volunteer” that’s what they say, well I did! Next thing you know I get invited to tell you one of my stories. “Thank You” Paul for all your enthusiastic encouragement. If we get to the printers, you will all have to put up with me for the next few issues. First, I just need to set the scene a little, so you grab a can of xxxx (or make that a glass of wine if you live on the other side of the Coventry Road) and sit down.
Fact No 1:
All Australians, when faced with any kind of problem or tricky situation, first take a long step backwards, stand and look at whatever the problem is then very slowly say …. “Oh Bugga”.
Fact No 2:
Back in November 99, just after the NEC Bike Show, Annie and I gave up our perfectly good jobs and set off on yet another of our “little adventures”, we do this on a regular and expensive basis! This is due to our very strong “life is not a rehearsal, so we must live it now” type philosophy. Initial ideas and advanced planning began over two years before, we defined the objectives and she made the first of many phone calls. Our plan was to go and meet this New Millennium thing head on! We intended to be right there, at that very special moment in history when the first bit of golden glow lit up the sky over the famous Harbour Bridge of Sydney Australia, on the far side of our planet Earth, early on the morning of January 1st. 2000.
So, the adventure begins: Booking flights proved to be a major nightmare, it seems that everyone and his Auntie visit OZ for Christmas, 1999 was going to turn into a new all-time record year for travel. Faced with “sorry, all sold out” replies from almost every Airline office in Europe, most people would say “Oh Bugga” and give up. Not Annie! (World No1 Mrs. Organiser!). She never has “problems” she only (ever) has a “Situation that requires resolving” so characteristically she worked away until every move was sorted, fixed, booked and paid for, all in good time. Flights, visas, accommodation, bike hire, airport taxi and even the local cat cage (hate, hate) for our two pets. All I had to do was pack my Swiss Army Penknife, leave a note for the milkman and go!
This trip was to take us via the USA, back to our paradise islands of French Polynesia, a nice warm up lap of Tahiti, Moorea and Bora Bora. Then the second very long flight, via the Cook Islands, Fiji and New Zealand before the “Jumbo” dropped us safe in the land of amber nectar.
We got over the jet lag at our base camp, (a mates flat) high up on Cremorne Point, overlooking Sydney Opera House, then took the hour long ferry ride up the Parramata River to the bike shop at North Rocks to collect the hired Harley, as arranged. “G’day Sport” said the guy in full local costume, bush hat, ex WD shorts and boots (no laces) “Good trip?”. “Oh Bugga” I thought, as he produced all the paperwork (complete with international small print!) The bike was an old, 93? Dyna Glide that had seen better days! Black and big, kind of a cross between a camel and a canal boat. “Why oh why, hire a Harley?” I hear all you real bikers ask. Well look, it’s the only way to ride some roads, like “Route 66” across the States or up Australia’s Eastern side on the “ Pacific Highway”. Anyway, we had all the right gear now didn’t we, grey beard, black leather jeans, big buckled belt, overhang belly, black T shirt, dark smoky visors and tattoos and that was just her!
In real Fonda mode, the bike had no suspension, brakes, clutch, fuel gauge or centre stand. It did
have a big 1500cc thumping lump, ape hangar bars and the smallest pillion seat Annie had ever seen, along with another little stuck up bit, to prevent her bum hanging over the back light unit. “Born to Ride”, look, right there, in big gold and chrome letters, “Oh Bugga and hang on baby”
The solo test run, just one wobble around the block, was all I needed to become very aware that the next three weeks were going to be the most “physical” ride of my life, on or off any bike!
I had been trying, without success, to ride Fireblades for the previous four summers and I can now confirm that Mr Honda has it right, really! By the time I roared back in to collect Annie, my glasses had vibrated down to the tip of my nose and my automatic Seiko was about to enter the land of over-wind! The nice man took a long swig from his can, then handed me a big blob of Blue Tack! “There ya go sport, shove this blob of sticky between your eyes, might hold the glasses to ya konk”. We had paid in advance, up front, so I faked a smile and kept quiet. He also gave us a mobile phone (no sim card) and a big pair of cowboy saddle-bags, in matching black.
Freeways, down under are pretty much like our M45 on a very quiet day, so for the warm up run we “made progress” inland for about 100 miles (just the one $2 toll) out to The Blue Mountains. When we reached the foothills and twisty bits I became aware that cars would not pass us, I had to pull well over to the left, Aussies drive on the same side as in the UK (the middle lane, right!) and wave them by. Very strange, but we later found out that as a car driver “You pass a Harley at your peril man, could even get yourself shot”. No, this is not another example of my, somewhat warped sense of humour, it’s for real! Do not (ever) underestimate the power of the Hells Angel Bike Gangs down under! Seems it’s OK for you to overtake other makes of bike, however any Harley gets a very quiet “Oh Bugga” and a quite but quick back off and avoid!
The area around Katoomba is spectacular, this is what we had come for, sweeping bends that wind through mountains, good surface tarmac, next to no traffic, tall forests of eucalyptus cover the rocky peaks and sheer drops look down into deep valleys below. Like Madeira in summer! Aussie road signs are really helpful, much better than ours, recommended max speed for each tight bend is given so, on a bike, you just multiply by two, lean it over and get that “Grin Factor”.
At the first fuel stop I decided to check the oil (as you do!) Now then, apparently you need to carry about three or four gallons of Semi-synthetic with you, at all times, when you ride a Yank Bike, well, nobody told me! My rather loud “Oh Bugga” came quite soon after we had found the bloke with the spanner (maybe 5/8 whit?) as required to undo the rather rounded nut that lets you get the seat off and reveal the not so rounded oil tank. I pulled on the six-inch long dip-stick
(as you do) and to my horror it was dry, very dry, like all the way down dry! At first I thought maybe the Blu-Sticky-Tack stuff had failed and I had lost my glasses. Not a drip of oil in sight, the poor old V twin must have been close to blowing up. I sat down, quickly, adjusting the sticky at the same time and read the hire bumff, small print (as you do, when you have to!).
“Seems that if we blow it up it‘s down to us then” “OK, OK” says Annie “Just keep your cool” “I am, I bloody well am” I yelled back, jumping up and down (never a good idea at my age!) She gets the nice man on the mobile and lets him know (in quite plain English, for a girl!) that he can expect to get the bill for all the Semi-synthetic when (if) we ever get back. After a long time he agrees. I move to next stage, pour till overflow! “Oh Bugga”, repeat every 500 miles! Easy.
We checked into our B & B, had a shower and set off to do all the tourist stuff. Katoomba has the world’s steepest Scenic Railway (No don’t tell them, it’s a Lift!) and of course the very famous Three Sisters rocks. The high wire cable car took us out over the ravine and we looked down at the waterfall with its eternal rainbow. Did I tell you, Annie’s nick-name is “Rainbow” she has a thing about colours! She even has her own private green and brown bottle bank at the top of our road! Me, I like Black and White. Although Koalas are grey, I like them too, they are lovely, even when you’re riding a Harley, they are still lovely! Oh yes, don’t call them Koala Bears, they are not bears at all. They are marsupials and boy can they sleep, almost as much as our cats. They carry all their “Tucker” in a small pouch, bit like a hairy bum bag, only built in.
That’s it for this one, see you next month, maybe. Stay Safe. Trev.
This site is designed and hosted by Web Entrepreneurs
