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I bought this motorcycle for less than 3 grand. I think it is important to preface my review with this information. A 1000cc sportsbike with 2 large cylinders thumping away producing music that is sweeter than a fat kid’s tooth. A bike that propels its rider to intoxicating speeds within seconds that a car worth 20 times its price would struggle to match. A bike that fires up eagerly every time you crank the engine to go to work, that runs effortlessly through freezing hail and searing heat. For 3 grand. Seriously? It is ridiculous that anyone would not be satisfied with a motorbike of such incredible and obvious value. But this is how spoilt and lucky we are in the modern world that we have the luxury to discard the truly incredible as bland and unremarkable. It is truly wonderful times that we live in. For the common man to be able to afford such amazing machinery, to experience the visceral thrill of such high performance works of engineering, is remarkable. If the VTR1000F was the best bike available, I would be perfectly happy with it, bask in its awesomeness and purr like a cat thinking of it every night. But hey, its 2014 and this is a 15 year old bike. The world has moved on and hasn’t been sitting on its laurels (thankfully). That doesn’t make the VTR a bad bike, it’s just that there are better options available if you have the money. But for 3 big ones, this bike is still a fucken topbox full of value. So, whats good? Engine – It’s great. It’s got a lazy, unhurried character to it. Spins up leisurely but is deceptively quick. Never feels stressed and has a pleasant, pulsing vibration. Plenty of grunt too. More than enough for the road really. And it sounds fucken great, it really does. The riding position – Comfortable, not too sporty, low footpegs, well-spaced clip ons. Very easy to split traffic on as it’s quite narrow and well balanced. You have to slip the clutch a bit at slow speeds but all big twins are a bit snatchy at low revs and the Storm is by no means the worst. Whats average? Brakes – The shit side of average, they are. Outright power is OK till around 100KMPH. But if you’re trying to pull back from 160, you need to give that lever a handful. It stops, eventually, just gives you a heart in the mouth moment the first time you grab the brakes and nothing very much happens! Suspension – The shit side of average as well. The stock suspension is well and truly shit. It shakes independently of the rest of the bike, which is a feeling I haven’t experienced since riding my Royal Enfield on Indian roads. It is extremely soft and dives ridiculously under hard braking. With upgraded springs, oil and adjustment, it improves dramatically but still lacks consistent feedback on what’s happening with the front wheel. It is very much a matter of trust the bike when you’re fully leaned over on less than ideal surfaces. I guess you just get used to that if you ride the bike long enough but it’s unsettling if you’re not and are used to getting your feedback delivered in precise messages at frequent intervals. What’s really bad Well nothing really. It’s a Honda. Nothing is ever REALLY bad on a Honda. How does it compare with a modern superbike? Not very favourably but its not as bad as it sounds. We must keep in context the fact that this is still an amazing motorcycle capable of incredible performance. It’s just that modern bikes just do everything that much better. The engine really is not too far off. Maybe slightly under-powered for a litre bike, making about 100HP. But you really wouldn’t feel it on the road unless you’re Canning. The engine wouldn't be out of place on a modern naked sportsbike. The connection of throttle to rear wheel is missing. On an MV or a Tuono, you meter the throttle even minutely and you can feel the rear bite into the tarmac and propel the bike. That feeling is missing on the Storm. The front end is definitely a generation away from modern fork technology. The feedback and performance just isn’t there. It feels loose and unconnected to the tarmac, relatively. Brakes are way off the performance of a modern sportsbike. If you want a 1 finger stop on a Storm, you better have one motherfuckin strong finger. Other than outright power, there is very little feel in the brakes as to how hard the front wheel is digging in. This is, of course, also a result of the weak suspension. The switchgear is, of course, dated. And that sort of enhances the impression of riding an older bike. So, all in all, there are a number of areas where the FireStorm just cannot compete with a modern sportsbike. This is not to say that an accomplished rider cannot make the Firestorm go very very fast but that same rider would be able to go even faster and certainly with a lot more confidence and safety margin on a modern sportsbike. In summary, the FireStorm is a good bike that can be made great with some dedication, hard work and money. Great value for money if all you can spend is 3-4K but want something with character.
This was written when I was looking for a sportsbike to replace my Dorsoduro in Sept-Oct 2013 and continues on from this other comparo So after riding a few litre sportsbikes, when none of them grabbed me enough to throw my money away on the spot, I decided to try another couple of bikes I had been intrigued by for quite a while. 1. Suzuki GSX-R750 (2010) Realizing my cunning plan of buying a Beemer with a Honda badge at a bargain price had been foiled, I activated Plan B. The GSX-R 750 has always struck me, on paper, as the perfect motorcycle. I like motorcycles that handle really well. I want my motorcycle to turn in really easily and be easy to flick around. I am happy to compromise mid corner stability for this. So if I have to buy an inline 4 and the best inline 4 is the BMW S1000RR and it’s a bit expensive then what’s the best bargain inline 4? I was hoping it would be the GSX-R 750 so I jumped on one. OK, all they say about this one is true too. It does handle incredibly well. I’ve never actually ridden a modern 600 supersport so I can’t confirm what all the journos say “handles like a 600, powers like a 1000” but fuck it handles great. You can chuck it into corners at the last minute. I was really revving the shit out of it and getting carried away with lane changing when a guy riding a K1600GT in a t-shirt went past me flapping his arms about. I thought he was trying to tell me I looked fully sick so I gave him the thumbs up but he didn’t look too impressed. I then pulled alongside him and he started screaming at me. The only words I got were “…..Cop…..fucken…” but I decided not to pursue the matter. He was probably one of those few “good” cops we keep hearing about. He didn’t pull me over or anything, just wanted me to slow down. To be honest, I WAS riding like a muthafucka! But that’s what the gsxr makes you do. It is ridiculously easy to throw around and revs so high so quickly that that’s the only way you want to ride it. It doesn’t have the mid-range of a 1000cc so no, it does NOT power like a 1000cc but you just rev it more I guess, it spins up pretty quick… I liked it! It seemed a bit more uncomfortable than the Beemer and Honda but I’m young, I can handle it. 2. Triumph Daytona 675 (2008) I reckon this is one of the best looking sportsbikes out there today and I was quite prepared to buy this if the ride matched the looks. Alas, it wasn’t quite what I was looking for but as my mate Boris says, I’m getting ahead of myself. The bike is a feather weight. You get on it and flick it side to side between your legs and it feels like a toy. It’s ultra-slim, with a high seat and low clip-ons. The ride position is racy but not terribly uncomfortable. The one I rode had heli-bars and an arrow exhaust, both of which offer a positive return on investment on this bike. You take off and the engine is smooth and refined with a nice burble to it. It’s certainly more like an inline 4 than a v-twin but it’s quite pleasant. As soon as you hit the first corner or roundabout though, you know exactly why everyone raves about this bike. It is so fucking keen to steer that you actually have to take drastic action to avoid crashing into the kerb before you’ve even entered the corner! The fucking thing freaked me out! The racy ride position places your head over the front wheel (that’s the way it feels anyway) and you get tremendous feedback from the forks. It’s all very involving but because the damn thing is so light and turns so quickly I just spent my half an hour on the bike trying not to crash before the apex of every corner. The power is definitely lacking compared to the GSXR 750. It’s more like a 600, which it is really so I should never have expected any different. Overall this bike just wasn’t what I was looking for. It’s light and nimble but the power isn’t there and it is just not a substantial enough motorcycle. You could go very very fast through corners on this thing, undoubtedly. So it looks like the GSX-R 750 is it. But did I buy it? To read what happened next, go HERE
This was written when I was looking for a sportsbike to replace my Dorsoduro in Sept-Oct 2013 The search for a new motorcycle. Fuck I love the hunt more than the prize I think. Just the process is fascinating. You start with as wide a canvas as possible and then start narrowing it down. You do endless research on the net. Reference and cross-reference 20 reviews on the same bike trying to needle out a pattern, an imperfection coz really that’s all you’re gonna find in a modern motorcycle, an imperfection. There are no obviously bad motorcycles anymore. Its just slight annoyances that you could do without. Like the 10 extra kilos that an R1 carries over a Fireblade. You have endless debates with your mates about the merits of one over another. You come to blows even sticking up for the mythical “character” of Italian bikes vs. the solid performance of the japs but it’s all part of the hunt. And then you narrow it down to 5 or 6 bikes that you just can’t separate out by reading. You must ride them, all of them because that is the true test of it. Where the rubber hits the road, the wheat is separated from the chaff and the king from the pretenders. So I hit the test ride circuit recently and this is what I rode. 1. BMW S1000RR (2010) Got on this first and it really set the bench mark for the rest of the tests Everything they rave about this motorcycle is justified. It is just phenomenally good. You get on it and it feels light and nimble and this only gets better as it rolls. The engine has a very unique sound from the cockpit. I’ve heard them go past and they don’t sound anything really special to a spectator but you get on one and twist that throttle and it sounds like a jet fighter plane cranking up, it’s insane! It didn’t even have a pipe on and I didn’t mind that at all. You’d put a pipe on it to please other people or to admire it while you’re not actually riding it. Anyway, you roll along and the whole package feels taut and sharp. It handles great, just hooks into corners really easily and stays there. The brakes are just incredible. I always use 2 finger stops but even that may be too much for normal riding around town for this bike. The engine just revs and revs and at around 10K shit starts to get very real very fast. You really want to be out in the countryside to open the taps and brace yourself for the resulting propulsion. Unbelievable. And I don’t really give a shit about electronics, not a big fan of them anyway. Didn’t play around with them but I’d get into it if I bought one I guess. But just the fundamentals of this bike, engine, braking and suspension are superior to anything I’ve ever ridden. It truly is the king. 2. Honda CBR1000RR (2009) I had gone into the test ride really hoping to like this. I like the look of it, all the reviews say it’s great, in the used market, it’s much more affordable than the euros and it’s a Honda, so quality and reliability is guaranteed. The dealer had it warming up as I came in on the beemer. Jumped straight on and off the bat it felt heavier. Not overly but noticeably. Take off and did the exact same circuit for the test run and the difference was apparent. The engine is phenomenally good, the midrange punch is fantastic and it definitely felt quicker than the beemer at street RPMs. It turned well and braked well too. The Honda was quite like the Beemer in overall feel, just less. Less taut, less confidence inspiring, less precise, less engaging. Overall I was left a bit underwhelmed, which I was disappointed about because now I couldn’t talk myself into buying this over the beemer and still pretend like I got an equally good motorcycle for 5 grand less. I had thought that the difference between the 2 would be apparent only the highest level of riding and since I’m not a racer, just an average punter, will I really be able to make out the difference. The answer is Yes. Even average punters will make out the difference in the ride quality, the beemer is just better, everywhere except midrange engine power. 3. Suzuki GSX-R750 (2010) Realizing my cunning plan of buying a Beemer with a Honda badge at a bargain price had been foiled, I activated Plan B. The GSX-R 750 has always struck me, on paper, as the perfect motorcycle. I like motorcycles that handle really well. I want my motorcycle to turn in really easily and be easy to flick around. I am happy to compromise mid corner stability for this. So if I have to buy an inline 4 and the best inline 4 is the BMW S1000RR and it’s a bit expensive then what’s the best bargain inline 4? I was hoping it would be the GSX-R 750 so I jumped on one. OK, all they say about this one is true too. It does handle incredibly well. I’ve never actually ridden a 600 supersport so I can’t confirm what all the journos say “handles like a 600, powers like a 1000” but fuck it handles great. You can chuck it into corners at the last minute. I was really revving the shit out of it and getting carried away with lane changing when a guy riding a K1600GT in a t-shirt went past me flapping his arms about. I thought he was trying to tell me I looked fully sick so I gave him the thumbs up but he didn’t look too impressed. I then pulled alongside him and he started screaming at me. The only words I got were “…..Cop…..fucken…” but I decided not to pursue the matter. He was probably one of those few “good” cops we keep hearing about. He didn’t pull me over or anything, just wanted me to slow down. To be honest, I WAS riding like a muthafucka! But that’s what the gsxr makes you do. It is ridiculously easy to throw around and revs so high so quickly that that’s the only way you want to ride it. It doesn’t have the mid-range of a 1000cc so no, it does NOT power like a 1000cc but you just rev it more I guess, it spins up pretty quick… I liked it! It seemed a bit more uncomfortable than the Beemer and Honda but I’m young, I can handle it. 4. Honda CBR1000RR Repsol SE (2009) I really wanted the Honda to wow me and I couldn’t believe I wasn’t impressed with it so I gave it another shot, maybe that particular motorcycle was shit. I got on a 2009 Repsol SE and took it for a short spin. It did indeed seem better, the suspension seemed more responsive and less vague than the other but to cut a long story short, it still left me without any strong passions either way. It just did everything with minimum fuss and with no particular brilliance, except the midrange blast. Naah, I don’t think I could live satisfactorily with it. You must understand that nowadays I ride only once in 2 or 3 weeks, except the odd evening blast to clear my head. I do not commute on it but everytime I get on it, I want an exciting experience. I just don’t think the Honda can give that to me unless I’m riding at the limits of my own abilities and giving myself the wrong kind of excitement. But I can’t put my finger on what’s missing, it’s such a fucken cliché with Honda and I went in with an open mind about it but I can only say what I feel. And this is how I feel. 5. Yamaha YZF-R1 (2010) The sound of a Big Bang R1 with decent pipes is probably my favourite sound on a production motorcycle, including Ducatis. It just sounds incredible and this along with the reviews raving about its mid-range grunt had always attracted me to this motorcycle. I had also heard that this is the heaviest and laziest handling liter sportsbike. I desperately wanted this to be untrue and I resolved that minor handling drawbacks would not hold me back from owning a motorcycle that sounds this awesome. As soon as you get on the bike though, it looks and feels bigger than any other sportsbikes. And then you start it and fuck, you hope again that the weight will disappear once it gets going. That engine is not only aurally overwhelming, it is the overwhelming presence on the R1. It pulses through the tank in a mild, pleasant way, in tune with the glorious noise and if the world was flat indeed like the ancients said and roundness was myth, this would be the motorcycle to buy. But the world is round and corners exist and thank fuck for that. Again, the pundits have got it right. The R1 is resistant to turn-in compared to every other sportsbike I’ve ridden. Turn-in is just unacceptably sluggish, fuck it! I knew it was over as soon as I hit the first corner. I barely noticed the rock solid mid-corner stability through the realization that I could not possibly live with this motorcycle. As I powered on to exit the corner, the bike just hooked and blasted through, all the time sounding brilliant. But it fucken lost me at corner entry. The brakes were great, it looks great but it just has this fundamental flaw. I wonder if this can be fixed via suspension mods, raising the rear height etc…I don’t know but ic ant take a punt on it as it stands. I really wanted the Honda and R1 to do what I want them to do but sadly, neither of them did. I said to the agent, I want the handling of the Honda with the engine of the R1. He calmly walked me over to this.... 5. Aprilia RSV4R (2011) It was just sitting quietly in a corner of the shop, looking all pretty and potent at a standstill. I breezed past it on my way to the Repsol Honda, this shiny thing was just over my budget. But I came back to it after neither the R1 nor the Honda did it for me. The bike is really small as everyone says. It doesn’t feel as light as such a small motorcycle should feel but then you forget about that as you fire it up. It sounds fucken awesome. I must say though, I still like the sound of the R1 better. But then you get going and if the R1 was built for a flat world, the RSV4 is made for a city of chicane linked roundabouts. It is so fucking light, I think it outhandles a GSX-R 750. It is so ridiculously easy to tip in, you forget you’re on such a powerful bike. Very very impressive. And that v4 engine is pulsing away under you, revving up really quickly. The suspension is firm and gives heaps of feedback. I imagine it would get uncomfortable after a while as it just feels very hard but fuck its great fun. And the brakes, fukn 1 finger jobbies. Not sure if they’re as good as the beemer but they’re pretty fucken close. Yes, this is an incredible motorcycle and it arouses the right kind of excitement. . . So at the moment I’m thinking – spend 16K on a used BMW or an Aprilia. I would probably pick the beemer over the Aprilia but might give both another ride before deciding. Or Go budget and pick up a near new GSX-R 750 for 10K. I’m convinced this is the best grins + performance Jap Inline 4 for what I need. This is what happened next
This was written when I was looking for a sportsbike to replace my Dorsoduro in Sept-Oct 2013 and continues on from these 2 reviews - Litre Class & Middle Weights So the GSXR 750 it was and I thought that was that. But then due to unexpected circumstances I had a lot of time to think about this and I realized whenever I pictured a GSXR 750 in my garage, I was just like “Meh”. It was purely a decision of the head. I was not terribly excited about the thought. So I let it play and let other ideas germinate. Sometimes when a choice is not immediately apparent, you need to sow some seeds and let them germinate. Unexpected results can eventuate. So out of the confusing fog, a recurring theme started to take form. It had a v4 engine and handling like a 600. Now, if you’ve been paying attention to my test rides you would know I had started to fall for the Aprilia RSV4R! Yes, that’s the one that kept coming back to me and the Beemer was well and truly forgotten. The beemer is from the Honda mould, just better. But when you get off either of those bikes after a satisfying run, you think fuck that was a great ride. But when you get off the Aprilia, you think, fuck that was a great ride and damn that bike is awesome. Maybe that is what they call character, the bike leaves you some memories of itself every time you ride it. The RSV4R was out of my budget but a motorcycle buying budget is a funny thing. It seems unshakeably rigid till you start getting wet dreams about a particular bike and you wake up next morning realizing that there is flex in the budget today. And the next day the budget flexes some more till after a few days of thinking, calculating, promising and negotiating with the finance minister, one fine day you find that the budget has indeed stretched far enough to be able to negotiate on an RSV4R! And then WHAM! just when you thought it was all settled and you start scouting for the best bargain RSV4R in Australia, out of nowhere your mate Pete walks over and offers a test ride his 2011 MV Agusta F4. And because you are a bike whore and a nice guy, you oblige, not expecting your world to be rocked. Not thinking that this is a watershed moment in your motorcycling life. Not knowing that your life before riding an MV Agusta F4 and your life after will be 2 distinct phases. Because 5 minutes into your ride, as you enter the on ramp to the M5 off Bexley road, Yeah that sweeping up hill left hander, you hook into the turn and wind on the throttle and your brain tilts back in its casing, your hands are barely holding on to the grips, you have overtaken 6 vehicles while doing 140KM an hour in the emergency lane. The bike is stable like it will keep on this angle forever with or without your input. You are powerless to stop what is going on, the bike has complete control over you. You are IN the watershed moment. It is playing out in slow motion in front of you and you are kind of remotely watching it with a loopy, stoned smile on your lips. You know it’s all over and already wondering how much Pete wants for this bike. Oh Sorry, I went off the rails a bit there even if the MV didn’t. What I actually meant to say was, the bike feels heavy as you lift it off the stand. Well, not Blackbird or Busa heavy but certainly heavier than the other litre bikes I’ve tried. Combine that with a high seat and low handlebars and my start is a bit nervous. But as I flick right onto the road outside Pete’s driveway, the MV turns effortlessly. I turn right at the downhill roundabout at the top of the street and the bike sort of falls into the turn. The steering lock is miniscule and normal city manouvers trap your thumb against the tank, a bit scary and I’m thinking fuck I’m gonna drop this thing. But it’s amazing how quickly you adjust to little shit like that. By the end of the 30 min ride, I was totally comfortable with the slow speed manouvering. The throttle, ah yes the throttle. I’ve ridden a few bikes now but the feeling of pure SPEED that you get on this bike is unrivalled. Twisting the throttle on this bike is more pleasurable than on any other bike I’ve ever ridden. I don’t even know whether this is borne out by numbers and magazine tests and shit but that is how I feel. The throttle response is instant and precise but very manageable. Spot-on really. The engine has this raspy, angry whirr as it picks up revs as if you’ve disturbed its sleep and it’s a bit grumpy now. Shit starts to happen very very quickly as you see the digital revs graph speed on beyond 8K on the funky blue LCD. I was doing 140 in the time I would normally expect to be doing 100. I WILL lose my licence on this thing, there is no question about it but who cares, I’ll park it in the lounge and stare at it. The most impressive thing about the bike apart from its outright speed is its mid corner stability. Absolutely neutral, especially in the sweepers. I felt like I could take both my hands off the bike at a 30 degree lean and the bike would just shrug and say “Imma keep on going, you coming?”. Winding on the gas on a sweeper on this bike is like a slowly building euphoric orgasm. The riding position is a bitch though, I’m sure I’ll be wriggling my arse around a bit on the freeways. But fucking who cares, I will deal with it. When I started this test riding journey, I was looking for a bike to wow me. The Beemer and the RSV did but not to the point where I instantly decided to blow my budget. The GSXR was a decision of the head and I’m glad I didn’t go with that coz even thought it’s a brilliant motorcycle in its own right, I know I would be on bike sales the day after I bought it, researching my next bike. The MV Agusta F4, is a decision of the heart. It has grabbed me by the balls, looked me in the eyes and asked the question. And I am glad to say that I have answered its call even if i've blown my budget to smithereens and have to take lunch from home for the next 2 years. Time will tell what is what. Hail motorcycles of the heart, fucken!
The origins of the BikeMe Pilgrimage are lost in the anus of time, where, obscured by the milky fog of generational changes, they recede ever closer to the womb of myth. The origins may not be immediately apparent but the spirit of this event is clear as day. A journey to pay homage, to give thanks or to ask for the favour of the gods. A pilgrimage can be undertaken for many reasons but above all, it is a journey made with devotion. As an Indian, I’m no stranger to pilgrimages and back where these journeys are regular occurrences for millions of people, it is said that the harder your journey, the more merit you attain from it. Well, I didn’t do it as tough as the people who measure the distance of their pilgrimage journey with the length of their bodies, prostrating themselves at every step of a thousand mile journey. Nor did I join the largest pilgrimage in the world where a 100 million people converge from all parts of the world to take a dip in a river that is holy to them, to rid themselves of sin and request benevolence from the gods. Sure, I didn’t do it very tough but it was still very much a pilgrimage for me and in keeping with the spirit, I wanted to ensure I didn’t do it too easy! And even if I did lose my way amongst all the debauchery for a bit, the ride home in freezing rain, sans faggy fairings, screens and heated accessories certainly put the suffering back into the journey and would surely have gained me some merit! That fucken TVKraut would’ve taken the most merit out of the trip though, riding back to Melbourne without wets of any kind! He gets it. Others didn’t and had to be helped to extract merit from their pilgrimages. Partymore for example. On the Sunday morning, as I stood shivering in my vented leather jacket and summer gloves, hopping to keep myself warm at the Bathurst servo, Julie calmly plugged in her heated Rukka jacket, switched on the heated gloves and with a nod of goodbye, flicked on her heated grips. That’s when it dawned on me. Till then I’d been feeling guilty about hassling this wonderful lady at the campfire on Friday night. I had given her a hard time over her failure, as a molecular biologist, to control the cane toad menace that Australian fauna face. Apparently I was quite passionate about my support for the natives and disdainful of the snooty scientific community. Of course, it was not Julie’s fault that the Bureau of Sugar Experiment Stations introduced the cane toad to Australia in 1935 and that first cane toad fucked himself a family so large that it is now threatening extinction for native species that have been around for thousands of years. Those of you that have witnessed me in full flow might understand that I can get a bit..umm..persuasive with my arguments as the night goes on and I’d been feeling guilty that I’d railroaded such a fine lady as Julie. But, after seeing her comfortable motorcycling existence, it dawned on me that I was a mere pawn that night. Her pilgrimage was progressing much too comfortably and the gods had moved me into place to provoke. For without provocation, there is no growth. And without growth, there is no merit. She may not appreciate it now of course, and rightly think of me as a cunt but I suspect when she’s receiving her dame-ship from the prime minister at Australia Day 2028, for ridding Australia of the dreaded Cane Toad menace, she may remember that night at the Pilgrimage 2014, where it all began. Good luck Julie! Then there’s young Andrew, the artist formerly known as ATEP. Though well-endowed with merit from previous exploits, the gods had not taken lightly to his “flying in to the pilgrimage” copout this time round. I was once again the instrument of the gods in deriding the “entitlement complex” that afflicts his generation and though he brave heartedly stood up for his fellow generationists, over the course of a couple of hours and several cups of rum-laced tea, he had seen the light and was wishing he too, was born in the seventies, or at least eighties. Of course, it was not all sermons and derision, there was some downright bizzare stuff. At one point I shouted across the campfire to Res, “Oi RES! Rape, fucken!” 5 seconds of stunned silence later I followed it up with, “Cunt!” I still can’t remember what the fuck I was trying to say but I’m sure it made perfect sense at the time. Friday night was mucho hilarious and as the punters fell off the wagon (some like wood-duck literally fell off the wagon, and stayed down too), it was Stacey, Andrew, Syd, myself and a very drug fucked ChrisACT who called it a night at 3AM. The non-camping fags had steadily wobbled off on their steeds with varying degrees of competence. The worst being Curse who later recounted his 15 minutes of paranoia riding at 30 kilometres an hour in 6th gear from the campsite to the hotel convinced that the cops were chasing him and had sabotaged his bike, which was why it was jerking so much. While Ross got on the gas thinking a monster was running behind him, appearing as a soft red glow in his mirrors (which he later realized, was his own tail light). There were many such hilarious stories, too many to recount. Saturday morning started way too early for me but surprisingly the rum of my people did not give me a hangover and I was feeling way better than I had any right to. I had to get a new rear tyre due to over enthusiastic throttle use the day before so I headed to Bathurst and got that done. Then, due to a strange turn of events that I still don’t completely fathom, I found myself riding to a far-off place, alone, with no maps or phone, negotiating 40 kilometers of dirt, which sometimes turned to wet clay. It was great fun and as I didn’t know were the fuck I was going or how I was going to get there, it involved lots of stopping and asking local people for directions. Anyway, I ended up at this place called Wingdang or something with a population of 2, one of which was a cat. The non-cat inhabitant ran a pub and cooked a mighty fine steak sandwich for me, which I ate with relish. Then I stumbled my way onto the Hill End road and thoroughly enjoyed it as my new tyres were well and truly scrubbed in by now. Meanwhile I had missed out on the slow race and bungee castle shenanigans, which were apparently hilarious. But I did climb the hill and attend the memorial ceremony conducted by the Padre, who though distracted by lust tainted thoughts of himself on an 1190R Adventure, managed to keep focus for long enough to impart the required gravity to the task at hand. While Res and Daz heckled shamelessly from the sidelines. Saturday night was a consciously quiet one for me as I gently encouraged others to take centre stage and provide the nightly entertainment. No-one really stepped up though Daz was well on his way when he non-camp-fagged himself away. Bubba was also going the full Bubba when he reeled it in and failed to take the night to its logical conclusion (in the gutter). The inevitable sombre Sunday morning mood was tainted further by the foul weather but I still made sure I said a proper goodbye to everyone I could find. It was fucken great to catch up with so many people I haven’t seen for much too long. And now I’m back feeling cleansed and recharged, smug in the knowledge that I’m part of something special, something real and something worth journeying for.
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