NIGE Motorcycle Club

And we did’nt. Leaving Monday morning with a song in our hearts three Niges: Lucky, Keys, and Black Santa headed out through Greta, Paterson, Dungog, and stopped at Gloucester for a nice little coffee. A few spots of rain developed into a maelstrom that emptied the streets and left the locals wondering if there really is a god and what they had done to merit this much anger. We scoffed “Ha ha” and rode out for Walcha. Some gay blade on a GS BMW at the servo told us that the Thunderbolts was a nightmare with “…more potholes than asphalt” but it was nothing more than a bit bumpy in parts. He was wearing BMW labelled jacket and pants.

“Would not be at all surprised if it begins to rain sometime soon”

Now the ride was wet and cold but a quick hamburger at Walcha sorted us right out. The trouble really began when we reached Armidale. You know how sometimes a hotel can look better on the internet than in real life? Well St Kilda was all that and less. Perhaps the twin room cost of $30 per night should have been a hint but Lucky thought he was just ….well…lucky..to get rooms at such a bargain price. Let me briefly describe the three rooms under the following sub-headings:

The Solarium: Lucky’s room was designed to allow for maximum light by having only a very thin piece of flood damaged cotton over the window which looked out onto the brilliant neon signs of the main street. There was no night-time in Lucky’s room which meant he had to blindfold himself with an old necky like he was facing a firing squad. The mattress was made of the same kind of foam they must make nerf balls out of because it was like sleeping in a big bag of fairy floss.

The Ashtray: DD’s room was located next to the upstairs lounge where the old codgers who lived there smoked full strength Benson & Hedges and wondered how they might win their battle with lung cancer. His room must have absorbed the odours of ten billion cigarettes over the years and as a result DD fell into a kind of coma and awoke next morning a three pack a day man. “Yeah boys I slept like a log. Just feel a bit twitchy.”

The Abattoir: Perhaps the most dreadful of all, and probably never rented out except in an emergency, was Key’s room. A tiny cell really with room for only one small bed. The tired and worn carpet had a huge sticky pool of what could only have been dried blood and the wall beside the bed had a hole blown through it presumably by the same 12 guage that had spread its former occupant’s entrails and major organs all over the bedspread. The very same bedspread I’ll warrant which had no doubt been hastily washed and remade for the unluckiest Nige of them all. Sleep of course was out of the question. Apparently one of the old codgers from Emphysema Central had his digs right next door to The Abattoir and spent the night trying to hack his lungs out through his throat. Poor ol’ Keys.

“I see dead people”

Anyway the rain got heavier as the night wore on and by morning things looked pretty bleak. Keys decided he had to get home as soon as possible and seek therapy for those haunting visions of carnage he couldn’t escape from. Lucky was undecided but agreed to follow Black Santa who wanted to “Push on regardless” Then he looked at his special Iphone weather app and decided Black Santa was “Out of his mind and all jumped up on nicotine and unable to think rationally” Locals then told us that Grafton etc. had faced severe storms and were suffering flood warnings with heavier rain to follow. Lucky convinced Black Santa it was time to go home, “Come on DD, a good Bex and black coffee will get those shakes under control and we’ll get you on the patches first thing tomorrow” Lucky promised. “OK Lucky great idea as usual. Hey whats that pink sticky stuff you keep chewing on there? Look its stuck to your jacket too” “Never mind, it’s nothing, mind your own business Smokey” Tempers were a little stretched at this point.

“This fishcake is a real highpoint of our adventure”

So we came home a day early. It rained and rained and rained and we got wetter and wetter and wetter. Nevertheless it had its highlights. The crumbed cutlets at the pub were pretty good. The coffee at Maccas on the other hand was pretty dreadful. “Bear Grylls couldn’t drink this” Lucky said and all agreed.

Let’s try again next school holidays.

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“Aww jeez Nige do we have to go if it rains ’cause my mum said I’m not allowed to get wet.” “Yes we do Lucky and I don’t want to hear any more complaints out of you” Lucky’s downcast expression didn’t go unnoticed by his friend Ant. “Don’t you worry about him Lucky. You ride with me and if he says anything mean I’ll rouse on him” So it was a pretty typical start as Nige, DD, Ant, Lucky, Sideways, and Keys left Maccas on a cloudy but promising day. On one of our infrequent stops Nige made a damning confession. Remember how long ago the Superbikes were? Well Nige still hadn’t washed his Ninja since he got back. Nor, he told us, has he washed his GSA since coming back from Tasmania. Meanwhile, Sideway’s and Lucky’s Busas, DD and Key’s Beemers, and Ant’s Firestorm, looked like they had just rolled off the assembly line and all shone beautifully in the glorious emerging sunshine. Keys was absolutely horrified with Nige’s poor sanitary approach to his bikes, “Motorcycles can get germs Nige. Big germs too. Just like people and they get really sick. I know there isn’t a government agency like DOCS for motorcycles but there should be and they’d tell you the same thing and you’d be in big trouble mister.” At this point we all thought that Keys was going to take Niges bike from him but he jumped off it pretty quicksmart because, “It felt all gooey”

All this worrying about Lucky is giving me a nervous condition I'm sure.

Jiminy Cricket! This is worse than I thought

Once all that nasty business was out of the way we continued out to Wollombi with Ant setting a quick pace. On to Broke with Nige pushing hard and Lucky just rearward and to his right and constantly avoiding all the bits of dried mud and branches as well as various pieces of fox, wombat, magpie etc that were flying off his bike; finally reefed free of the Ninja’s paintwork many months after their initial contact. From there Lucky took point with Sideways tucked in behind. They must have been a magical and magnificent sight from behind as those extraordinary machines went quietly about the business of making all others seem a bit more ordinary.

Lunch at Bylong. Hmmmmm…. If you like eating anything that comes in plastic wrap and heated in a microwave then this place has some fine dining for you…. but I think only astronauts should have to do that. DD didn’t eat any of course. “I am not a rocketman”

Plastic coffee....again?

The run back home was fun. Sideways took off first whilst the rest of us were still applying our lip balms and finishing combing our hair and we didn’t see him again till we reached Broke. Keys was out there somewhere too and we found him at Broke as well. Funnily, on the way out to Bylong he didn’t follow us, possibly because he was ahead, and went some other path less travelled or whatever and rejoined us somewhere along the Golden Highway.

Three men desperately concerned where Keys might be

We managed to dodge the rain for the most part and as far as I can tell we all made it home safely. Perhaps Nige called in to the Mingara car wash on the way back but I doubt it.

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What again? Yeah nice pun Lucky. Anyhoo Nige and Lucky headed off to the hills for a nice dirt ride on Sunday. Mohawk was an early withdrawal suffering a flat rear tyre. Etiquette dictates that good friends and long time mates would wait with him till the NRMA arrived. We didn’t and both of us felt pretty bad that we didn’t. We got over it though. The road itself was a mess having been washed out by the rains but Nige appeared blissfully unaware of the horrific ditches and exposed boulders threatening to turn us upside down and simply set his usual devil-may-care pace. Lucky meanwhile spent two harrowing hours crying quietly but manfully into his helmet and only wiped his tears aside when Nige, who waited patiently at various intervals (I told you in an earlier report how that new GSA had made him a kinder and gentler man), would ask him how much fun this was. “Every rides a good ride Nige” But Lucky was just putting on a very brave face. I should point out in my own defense that there were pools of water so deep across the roads that they had their own tides and I’m pretty sure one of them had a jetty.

I think we might find some road over there Lucky.

I think if we ride up this log Lucky we'll be back on the road

Here we are after riding to the top of the log

We made it through to the main road and immediately headed to Jerrys like two muddy homing pigeons. “Maaaaaaate” Jerry announced happily on sighting Nige before suggesting he should ride on to the next cafe. It’s strange how often that happens. Nevertheless, we enjoyed a few coffees and talked further about the superbike trip before heading home to our beloveds. Lucky immediately washed and polished his KLunker and deeply apologised for the abuse it had endured that day, wrapping it in cotton wool and then gently covering it with its blanky. Nige probably beat his almost to death with a tree branch and then just bullied it to the dustiest corner of his garage without so much as a howdyoudo.

It was still a great ride.

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Blue skies and fair winds welcomed five gentlemen setting passage for the rustic hamlet of Walcha; as fine a group of gallants that e’re trod this federated land. Motoring north we tarried in Gloucester where the local peasantry proffered us with fine Italian coffee imported, I assume, for just such an occassion. “Crumbs, this coffee is jolly good” announced Lord Scrounger. ” Oh indeed” Replied the Earl of Keys “But mind the language old bean, there are ladies about.” To which we all tittered gleefully given the rather weathered and homespun appearance of the local lasses.

With all the pomp and ceremony of a royal visit

“I say, this coffee is marvelous”

With a hearty wave and hail-good-fellow-well-met the gentlemen continued west along the Thunderbolts Highway presumably named after some local rapscallion with little regard for manners and clearly of poor breeding. We didn’t encounter that scoundrel I’m pleased to say. In good time and having taken in some of the local sights along the way we arrived to a tumultuous and enthusiastic greeting from the kindly mid-western peasants who lined the streets in anticipation of a kind word or small token from the gentlemen. They smelled a little unwashed so the gentlemen paid them only cursory attention. “That fellow there has never seen a can of Dapper Dan in his life” Former President Lucky was heard to utter quietly under his breath upon sighting a rather unkempt example of farmlife cheering from the stands especially erected for the visit.

” My word I wish my manservant were here to tend to my face wiping”

Lord Scrounger, The Earl of Keys, Former President Lucky, and Archbishop David of Denham all proceeded directly to their previously arranged lodgings in the towns finest Hotel whilst, to our astonishment and admiration, the Right Honourable Brizzer elected to rub shoulders with the populace by making safari to the local camping grounds ” I’m quite keen to observe the yokels from close quarters. I may even converse with them, see what cultural aspects of rural life interest them; the theatre, opera of course, they fascinate me.” Given that he rejoined the rest of the gentlemen in fairly quick order we presumed he had learned little. “Wretched fellows scoffed at my cravat” was all he would say and we let the matter rest there.

Two gentlemen observe the common citizenary from a safe distance.

As any gentleman knows one does not imbibe prior to 5 bells. At exactly 5 bells the gentlemen entered the Apsley Tavern. “My word, what is that horrid odour?” Asked the Archbishop of Denham holding a lace kerchief to his face. “Greetin’s gents, pardon me but all’s we eat in these parts is cabbage and corned beef an’ it do tend to escape the nethers unexpectedly like” The ruddy cheerful face of the tavernkeeper seemed to float down from between the aged and dusty bottles lining the shelves behind him. “We don’t often get toffs from the city in here so please excuse my manners” “Five ales for my good friends and comrades” Gentleman Brizzer demanded dismissively. After a steady flow that remained within the boundaries of common decency and topped off with a rather fine red wine the gentlemen were ready for bed.

A gentleman knows how to drink tea.

The new day warmly greeted the gentlemen and, after finally coaxing Former President Lucky’s mount to life, the gentlemen left Walcha and headed east to Wauchope along the Oxley Highway. “As fine a colonial track as you would ever see” Commented Lord Scrounger whose beautifully prepared ride glistened in all its original livery.

A gentleman’s mount in original livery

From here they turned their handsome faces south with a detour along the Bucketts Way and Gloucester leaving it, “A better place having felt the tread of our leather.” “Oh well said Lord Keys” and “Yes Rather” said the gentlemen.

Two gentlemen consider their choice of companions

Home at last the gentlemen gathered for tearful farewells. A collective “Hurrah” from all and promises of further travels together. “I say” said Former President Lucky “Wouldn’t it have been grand if that tall glass of sherry Viceroy Mo of Hawke could have come along. He loves to mix with the commoners” “Perhaps we could even invite that rather bawdy chap Nigel along.” suggested some of the gentlemen who often enjoyed Nigel’s hearty and earthy banter . “Yes, perhaps” replied Former President Lucky in a thoughtful yet pensive tone. “Perhaps”

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Lucky and Black Santa have planned a ride to Walcha on the 12th and 13th of Jan. We have booked rooms at the Walcha Hotel so if you are interested book yourself some accommodation and join us. There were rooms still available as of today at the motel but there are pubs etc if you prefer. At this stage we are leaving from Lucky’s house at 9 but can meet you at maccas Tuggerah at about 9.30 if that helps. We will head out through Gloucester and make our way to Wauchope then along the Oxley. Home via Thunderbolts. Leave us a comment here if you are keen.

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