Just Three to Gunnedah. May 2022

It’s been raining. And raining. And raining. For months now. A lot of rides have been cancelled including Boris’ Snowy Mountain Run despite several changed dates and we were sick of it. So, finally, a two-day window appeared that promised clear skies for most of those two days. It wasn’t much but it was a chance. Boris was back in England by now, Rocky was up to his English armpits in meetings and Moey was having carpet laid. (That sounds a bit metaphorical but wasn’t) That left Nige, Dusty, Lucky and David as confirmed. On that basis, and the usual gentleman’s agreement implied handshake, Nige kindly booked four rooms on his credit card. Sadly, David’s eyeball imploded for some reason so he pulled out at the last minute and didn’t come. (That’s tautology right there. Oooh and also a bit metaphorically rude when you think about it.)

Anyway, we agreed to meet this time at the Turf Hut. Nice coffee and Sharne, the coffee girl, remembered Lucky and Dusty as her favourite teachers in high school. No offers of a discount however so we found that a bit disingenuous. “Right roll call” started Nige as usual.

“Present” replied Lucky without waiting for his name to be called.

“Not yet you idiot!!” Nige could barely suppress his anger. “LUCKY” He shouted.

“PRESENT” shouted Lucky back with just as much enthusiasm as before.

“FairyDust!!” Nige called, forgetting we don’t call the hard man that name anymore.

“Don’t make me kill you Nigel”

“Right. I’ll count that as here then” said Nige quietly.

Beaming sunshine accompanied us out past Jerry’s. Ride Leader Lucky (Self Appointed) spotted one of his old mates, Pete, coming the other way on his Hardly Davistown along Yarramalong Rd and waved exuberantly at him as they passed. “There’s Pete,” he told Dusty over the intercom. “He’s a good bloke.” But Big Pete was far too busy fighting the 300 odd kilos of oil dripping, petrol gulping, power lacking, misrepresentation of motorcycling to notice his old mate. “I’ll rouse on him next time I see him,” said Lucky to his wide audience of one. “He should have waved.” “I thought they only waved to other Hardly Davistown riders,” Dusty replied. “One day those walls will come down,” replied Lucky sombrely but didn’t really care either way.

Topped up at Broke as usual and headed on to Denman for lunch. Nige was starving and had a whole can of diet coke. Dusty had some delightful Arancini balls, and Lucky had a prawn fettuccini. All lovely.


Not starving

Because the road out to Willow Tree was still belly up in the gully beside the mountain, we didn’t turn at Merriwa and kept north up to the right turn towards Coolah. A pretty decent pace and coffee at Coolah by 3. Now the kindly shopkeep was only too pleased to hold his closing time past 3 in the hope of gouging the city boys of their cash for all kinds of country treats. He was disappointed. However, we did meet old “Pothole” who was keen to tell Dusty all about his super-interesting life and all the different kinds of “Motee bikes” he may or may not have had over the years. Then he’d walk away and sit somewhere else then come back to resume his conversation to a politely disinterested Dusty whilst Nige and Lucky watched on. “Jeeezus Lucky, where do we find these people and why do they have to regale us with their rustic tales of woe?” Nige moaned “Is it just me? Or is it you? Do we look that desperate for the company?” “Well, it’s not me” Said Lucky. “He’s sucking the life out of Dusty though so we’d best head out.” Apparently, he was called Pothole because everyone in town tried to avoid him.


“So anyway young fella, when i was a lad I road a BSA Wonton which was the fashion of the time….and my girl Gladys thought I was just the cats pyjamas and a 23 Skidoo kiddo. Yes Indeedy!!

Putting that all behind us we headed on across the Breeza Plains and into Gunnedah. The light was fading a little by the time we arrived but parking around the side was easy and we headed for a lazy beer before dinner. We talked about manly things for a while and headed across the road for a late night Maccas coffee and apple pie. Due to some administrative error, Dusty got his drink, a thick shake from memory, for free and we cheered loudly and agreed we’d “Stuck it to the man.”

“Yeah man, we’re like a real outlaw motorcycle gang now” yipped Lucky, high-fiving anyone who’d high-five him back, which was no one.

“Don’t say “man” Lucky. We’re not hippies, we’re outlaw motorcylists and I’m the president” Nige said but was beaming with pride all the same at our new self-recognised-crazy-one-percenter image. “I might put real sugar in my coffee next time and not even blow on my hot apple pie before I bite into it”

“No Nige. Why that’s crazy talk! Think of the calories and the burnies if you did that” Lucky said with concern as the adrenaline rush faded.

“Yeah, Nuh. Maybe you’re right. But I could if I wanted!!”

Dusty, the real hero of this caper, licked his lips as the last of his ill-gotten chocolate thick shake disappeared. “And that boys, is how you do it!” So much street cred earned right there. Lucky threw another high five in his direction but Dusty was looking elsewhere so Lucky hit nothing but fresh air.

Anyway, after that, we headed off to bed and both Lucky and Dusty slept well. Nige must have still been buzzing with excitement because he reported very little sleep. He instead arose early and wandered the streets of Gunnedah taking pictures of things we had only heard rumours of whilst we were hidden away in the Gunnedah Hotel. Wondrous things. Shops.

“They were awesome boys. And you could park right out front. What a place!” He said, “And I found em on my wondrous journey.” Nige excitedly recounted when we met for breakfast.

“Yeah, I seen shops before” Yawned Dusty.

Breakfast in the main street in some little cafe was good. We’ve eaten there before so no surprises. We avoided the one where the cook went missing that time, Jack and Jill’s I think because Boris wasn’t there to express our disappointment at the poor service.

“I miss Boris,” said Lucky sadly “He always knew what to say and how to say it,”

“Yeah, Nuh I can yell at people too!!” replied Nige loudly, outraged at Lucky’s comment.

“Yes but Boris spoke words that didn’t offend everyone and didn’t throw his cutlery at the wait staff” Lucky pointed out. “He was a gentleman”

“Boris is still alive right?” Dusty interjected.

“Yes but he’s in England” Both Nige and Lucky said in unison, struggling to believe their own words.

“Poor bastard,” a shocked Dusty said and added in hushed tones “When did that happen?”

“Pretty recently,” said Lucky “We all knew that eventually he’d be gone. The signs were all there. We just never expected it to be so sudden.”

The men sat quietly for a few moments then, reflecting on the tenuous nature of being.

“Vale old mate” Lucky mumbled quietly.

“Shut up numbnuts,” Nige’s quivering voice said. “At least he’s still alive”

“Is he Nige? Is he?” said Dusty shaking his head sorrowfully.

Anyway, a sombre breakfast followed and a dark cloud still hovered over the three as they headed out to pack for the ride home. Literally. It was about to start pouring.

Why am I sad. I’ve never met Boris. Still pretty awful for him but.

England!! Jeezus! Makes ya think yeah nuh. He still had some good years left. Amen.

Lucky tries to cheer Nige up for the long wet ride home.

Did I mention it rained? Well, it did. A lot. Happily, Dusty and Lucky were wearing good wet weather gear and stayed dry all the way back past Denman despite the torrential conditions. Nige was not so lucky. At some point, he began complaining, no surprises there, that his foot was soaked. It turned out that his Rossi boots, to which he had some kind of emotional connection, that had had the sole glued back on several times, finally gave way under the onslaught of the monsoonal downpour and parted ways with the boot itself. Lucky and Dusty found this hilarious because it hadn’t happened to them.

We finally arrived back at Jerry’s around three for the usual teary farewells. We didn’t know it then but it turned out to be Nige’s last big ride on the old Beemer as a new shiny one with his name on it was slowly wending its way to Worthington BMW. Will he treat it with the same level of cruelty he showed his old one or will this one be given an occasional wash and some kind of shelter much nicer than lying sideways in a garden bed? We will see.

By the way, DD did settle his debt re the room payment to Nige under the Gentleman’s Agreement Bi-Law so will be permitted to maintain his active member status in the club.


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A way Better Report Than Nige’s on Bathurst November 2021

Nige, Moey, and Lucky were enjoying Maccas coffees in the new year when Lucky raised the issue of Nige’s ride report, submitted by him under Lucky’s name, about their recent Bathurst ride

“You don’t write the reports about our adventures Nige, I do!!!” Lucky began, visibly upset.

“Oh dry up you big baby. It was a detailed report and included the major points. Did you notice I mentioned the ice cream?”

” Nuh, it was terrible. You didn’t establish context, or character development, or characters, or plot development, or plot, and there was no careful use of language techniques, especially a sad lack of onomatopoeia and hyperbole. Nor did you weave some clever dialogue throughout which might have breathed some life into your sad, sad, commentary. It was disgraceful wasn’t it fellas?” Out of breath by now, Lucky turned to his biggest supporter, Moey, but he’d tactically withdrawn and was closely studying his giant butterscotch latte and iced vo-vo. “The ice cream part had some merit” He commented.

“Yeah ok that part was pretty good” Lucky conceded. “But the rest was horrible.”

“Oh for f#$^’s sake Lucky. Seriously?” “I gave you a direct order to write that report weeks ago and you still haven’t done it. Fine, you write it and make sure you mention all the stuff I did and how wonderful I am as leader”

“Good, I will. I happen to have brought my laptop along so I’ll do it right now and I don’t want any interruptions. Now where to begin, where to begin. I’ve forgotten most of it.”

“Start at the Milk Factory Luckmeister” Offered Moey. “Start off by telling how Dave took off ahead without permission”

“That’s right. Thanks Uncy Momo. I’ll start there…………

It was sunny and warm when we all gathered together at The Milk Factory for our first ride out after the Covid Lockdown and the regions were finally welcoming visitors from ground zero, Central Coast. Moey had recently bought his new slightly used BMW GSA that was all shiny and sparkly with a fair amount of added “Farckle” just to annoy Nige.

“Totally gay” Nige interjected.

Lucky had removed the protective covering from Redboy the Explorer revealing a brilliant lustre of high gloss paint, disconnected the trickle charger, and was also keen to head west.

Nige had found his GSA where he left it lying on its side in the front garden many months earlier. Pulling the geraniums and lengths of Kikuyu from between the frame and forks and evicting a family of possums that had taken up residence between motor and fuel tank, it was eventually coaxed into life after a few friendly spanks with his old shovel kept precisely for that purpose.

” I call it The Persuader.” Nige again. Lucky looked up from the keyboard to see Nige smirking at his own joke. Regardless, he kept typing….

Now Dave came too and promised Lucky he’d bring the Triumph Jacket along on the next ride for Lucky as per our gentleman’s agreement. His orange Versys shone in the sun like a giant mandarine. “Wait out front for me boys whilst I empty my prostate” And wait we did.

About half an hour later we all began to worry that the old boy might have had a mishap vis-a-vis his down-belows so Nige, who was most concerned, rode around back to find his mate. “He’s not here!!! He’s taken off ahead! He wants to be ride leader! Well not on my watch!!!  I’m Ride leader and president of this outlaw motorcycle club and  will lead… from second position. Lucky, you go ahead”

We finally caught up to Dave at the bottom of Bumble Hill and dropped him back to caboose position where he remained for the most part. “Sorry fellas. I just wanted to see what it felt like up front. Won’t happen again.” And it didn’t.

Anyway, the usual roads and stopover at Denman for lunch. Boris wasn’t with us on this trip so the Sealy Posturepeadic sized steaks remained refrigerated till his next visit. The rest of us ate sparingly although lucky tried one of those spicy chicken burgers that nearly killed Nige several trips earlier.

“I remember them. They were killer hot” Nige reflected.

“Mild at best” Lucky responded.

On to Rylstone. Moey decided to open up his new slightly used GSA “I call her The Geezer” up the hills between Bylong and Rylstone with the rest of us pushing to stay with him. “Carn Lucky, he’s getting away!” Roared Nige through the intercom. “He’s using his quick-shifter Nige. That’s not fair!” “You either stay up or you’re dismissed as ride-leader-self-elected.”

We arrived in Rylstone around 2 for fuel and coffee.

Still fuming over Dave’s early departure from The Milk Factory.

Dave seemingly unphased by Nige’s seething anger.

Enjoying the show.

At this point Lucky glanced over to see if Nige was listening to his new report. “Losing interest Lucky. Talk about the mountain.”….

Off we went to Bathurst with the usual trek up Mt Paranoia so Nige could check out Barnaby’s campsite for the upcoming car races. Views were much the same again but we noticed the word Bathurst had been removed from the circuit’s Hillside White-Stone sign. Then it was the traditional lose our way to the Knickerbocker. Then the usual try to slip the bikes between the boom-gate and fence until the bottle shop guy eventually opened it for us.

Mt Paranoia with nice clouds.

The Knickerbocker opened up to us with some enthusiasm. “Over there for QR Codes, show us yer Double Vaxxes, payment in advance, shower for lice upstairs, etc” We had some beers but not Nige who is still on his no-alchohol thing. Dinner was good. Some had those chicken wings like last time and made a complete mess of themselves. Lucky and Moey had salads with stuff on the side which was pretty good too. The pub had recently been sold and handover was this weekend. At around 7 we wandered off for a walk to that ice-cream parlour…..

“Gonna stop you there Lucky. I already wrote about this in my report.”

“Right. Sorry Nige”

“Sorright. Carry on with the story”

Okay. Everybody had a good sleep except Nige and woke to sunny skies. Breakfast was again, excellent.



Out back of the Knickerbocker again. “Yep Geezer is a great name don’t you think Lucky”


Heading out at around 9 back the same way. Nobody had to fuel up since Rylstone was a mere 70 mins or so away so off we went. Good roads and decent riding got us there just after 10.

Strangely, there was no grace before meals here.

Back to Jerrys via the farms at the back of Denman. The dirt road over the hill was pretty dodgy from the recent rains but nobody fell off so that was good. Moey gave The Geezer a happy thumbs up then headed north from Broke. Dave had had enough of us by Kulnura and rode straight home so Nige and Lucky had time for a quick cuddle at Jerrys before also heading home. The end.

“My report is waaaay better’n yours Lucky” Nige piped in. “I would OF included all aspects of the bucolic surrounds and the verdant scenery.” As an afterthought he asked “Also do you remember what Cumudgeonly means?” barely suppressing a snigger.

“Oh um yeh nuh, nuh, wait…nuh. what is it again?”

“Look it up numbnuts because I’ve told you about a thousand times and I’m not telling you again!!”

“Alright, alright. Geez you’re getting cranky in your old age” an embarrassed  Lucky retorted.

“Good ok, finally. Correct”



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Bathurst after the last Bathurst but before Nige went again…to Bathurst.

We went for a ride to Bathurst.

It was pretty good and nice.

Some people went and some of those had ice cream.

We came home.

Some even came ALL the way…..home.

Did I mention that it was good? Well….pretty good.

And nice?

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Nige’s Little Op. May 2021

“Lucky, we’re going on a ride….and it might be my last!!” said Nige, “but don’t worry, I might be ok.”

“I wasn’t worried,” replied Lucky. “What ride?”

“Yeah nuh, I’m pretty sick Lucky and I have asked DD for some special prayers.”

“Is it the Aids?”


“Corvett 19? That’s a bad one.”

“Yeah Nuh it’s the hernias Lucky,” Nige replied in whispered tones. “And I fear for my life.”

“Can I have your Beemer then? Hey Moey, Nige is having a hysterectomy and he said I can have his bike if he doesn’t pull through.”

“PIG’S ARSE!!!!” Moey bellowed back. “I’m having it. I’ve endured him for years. I’ve earned it!!”

“Shut up you two knuckleheads,” shouted Nige over the top of all this. “Neither of youse can have it. I’m being entombed with it!”

Both knuckleheads seemed satisfied with that so plans moved on as to where the ride might go. Gunnedah.

“I’m out anyway,” Moey confessed later. “It’s Old Sir Fallapart.”

“What’s wrong with Old Sir Fallapart?” asked Lucky with concern.

“Well … he fell apart.”

With Moey up to his elbows in OSF’s icky bits, DD doing God’s work, Barnaby embroiled in an episode of “Orange is the New Black” or something, Rocky working through his retirement years and Dusty still in his final year of employment, that left Nige, Lucky and Boris to carry the flag.

It was cold, of course, when we left Jerry’s and had our first stop at Broke for fuel. When Nige went off for a wee, Lucky spoke quietly to Boris about Nige’s little op. “It’s a hysterectomy Boris and it’s in three parts. His testicles, uterus, and ovaries I think,” leaving Boris somewhat perplexed about Lucky’s understanding of anatomy. “No more babies for Nige now mate.” Lucky added.

“Are you completely sure about that Lucky? It might be a hernia operation you know,” Boris said. “They’re pretty common and should avoid mucking around with the old boy’s tadger.”

At this point, Nige returned and Lucky saw the two of them giggling together and pointing at him. “Easing his pain with humour I suppose,” Lucky assumed. “What a nice man”


“Look at that brave soldier?” thought Lucky. “I hope he’s amending certain details of his will in my favour.”

Onwards to Denman with RL Lucky in his usual position out front (self-elected). Nige refusing to speak to him. for some unknown reason, but Boris and Lucky had a delightful conversation anyway. Nige was on a special no-food diet prior to his little op so drank a healthy ‘No Sugar Coke’ and any question about his presidency was quickly dispelled when he brought out the can.

Looking pretty pleased with himself. “Still in charge of all of youse. Read the can numb nuts!”

Meanwhile, Boris had his usual steak the size of a sofa lounge and Lucky had a delightful prawn fettuccine. Lucky helped Boris finish off the last of the red meat as a sign of great friendship.

Full as a fat lady’s sock.

Now, the usual route over the hills past Willow Tree was washed away. Sad because it was that brand new, finally-all-bitumen section that promised to improve over time. Now it’s all in the gully below. Pity. So we kept north and headed inland over the Breezer Plains and the cotton fields now in full bloom and transients everywhere ready to bale it up and pick our pockets at the same time. That was according to Boris from memory. Nevertheless, we only stopped once when some sheep blocked the road. We kept our hand over our wallets just to be safe.

Sheepses!” said Lucky

Anyway, we arrived in Gunnedah around fourish and headed to the bar for a couple before showers. That done we headed upstairs to our single-rooms-no-en-suites. Those cotton-picking transients were in town and had the best rooms. The shared bathrooms were empty and we never spotted anyone in them at any time. Odd. Mind you, they may have risen around four to head out but those bathroom floors and showers were suspiciously dry at all times. The ladies toilets next to Lucky’s room, however, were particularly pungent and made his eyes water every time he entered his room as any odours clearly metamorphosed themselves through his wall. So those toilets clearly had plenty of visitors. Anyhoo, we all went back downstairs and shared beers and whatnot (Nige was drinking the whatnots) and had dinner. It was ok. Boris went off to bed around tenish whilst Lucky and Nige wandered over the road to Maccas for coffee and apple pie.

Next morning was cold. Nige woke up about three hours before he thought he had and went off for a walk. After about 50 kilometres, he realised his error and found his way back to meet up with Boris who had wandered off down to the river and Lucky who didn’t. A few complaints there but on par.

Back of the pub in sunshine but really very cold.

Warming up.

The ride home was the usual with lots of bends and varying speeds to suit. The back of Denman was, as usual, particularly fun. We finally landed at Jerry’s around three. Nige seemed to be having a little trouble getting his leg over his bike. “Is that because of your distended womb Nige?” asked Lucky. “Is that why you’re having the hysterectomy?” At which point Nige looked despondently at the ground, resigned to accept that there was no point correcting Lucky any further. “Yes Lucky, that’s why.”

“Don’t look at me Lucky. I’m just tired.”

On a happy note, Nige survived his little op, Moey has new needles for Old Sir Fallapart and DD has probably saved more souls. Hopefully, they will be ready next time.


Only Four? Bathurst April 21

“Nuh, I’m not going and neither is Brian!!”

“Yeah but Nige!” whined Lucky, “That only leaves four of us for the ride.”

“Yeah! nuh! wrong!. The ride is cancelled! There will be no ride. I repeat…. no ride!!”

So four of us met at Jerry’s on the first week of the school holidays for the ride. Fairy Dust now called Dusty because the other name was totally unsuitable for a hard core man, Lucky, Boris and Rocky. It was raining heavily that day but lightened up till we got to Broke. Then it thundered down upon us. We waited twenty minute or so then Ride Leader Lucky or RL as he became affectionately known (Not out loud by anyone) led out to Denman. Given the conditions the ride was still quick enough and interesting. Dusty and Lucky chatted away happily right up to the Royal Hotel in Denman for lunch.

On arrival Boris had to admit that his wet weather gear was much better at holding the water on the inside than actually stopping it from getting there. His BMW Costalot boots were also filled to the brim. Rocky was in similar conditions plus his BMW Priceyas bag was now a travelling aquarium. “This happened last time as I recall” he noted. “Might pen a letter of complaint to Herr Lostthewar or whoever and register a stern complaint from her majesty’s servant” He hasn’t done that yet.

Lunch was good with Boris inhaling his usual rare steak and Lucky doing the same. The other two ate healthy like, you know, Salmon or mung beans or something. I don’t recall.

Dusty enjoying being dry like Lucky but not like Boris and Rocky.

Leaving Denman, disaster!!! Wait, that should be in upper case to highlight what a disaster this was…DISASTER!!!!!. A small drop of water had somehow found it’s way between the microphone hole and cover of Lucky’s intercom which meant Dusty could not hear Lucky’s witty commentary or extracts from his novel-in-progress Phil Witton’s Collective Thoughts on Everything. Lucky could hear Dusty of course and had two hours of him describing every corner. “Right knee out, push down on bar, gentle pressure on tank, easy, easy, Oh well done sirrah!!” every corner plus coughs and sneezes and grunt and groans over the bumpy bits.” Of course it never occurred to Lucky to just switch over to music and, besides, it became quite soothing after a while. Every now and then Dusty would make a suggestion or observation which Lucky could reply with a hand signal so that was ok. We rode in and out of heavy rain and then we were in Bathurst. RL Lucky found The Knickerbocker first go and was totally proud of his accomplishment. “That’s why they call me RL said Lucky to nobody listening.

Dinner was at the Irish pub and Lucky shouted hoping they would all order soup. They didn’t. Dusty had a Beef and Burgundy Pie which he said could captain the “Mighty Eels” and told everyone that that is all they’re allowed to order next visit. No arguments from us.

Boris and Rocky at lunch. Both managed to top this up with a decent sized dinner as well.

Breakfast was good. Still no Eva who has retired and not died of anything at all as we were led to believe. The cook actually made some pretty decent poached eggs so we hailed him a hero.

The ride home was much nicer with clear skies most of the way to the coast. Some trouble from a black Hyundai SUV out near Sofala which was driving erratically and tailgating Boris. RL wisely pulled the group over to let this idiot go but then he just stayed a hundred metres ahead of us anyway so we didn’t really get the point of his fussing about. Usual coffees at Jerrys and off we all went. On a happy note, Boris’ new red Triumph Tiger 900 went like a bought one.

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Put That in the Report Lucky. January 2021

Lucky woke early to the sound of rain and gurgling downpipes.

“Gee I hope Nige is ok and doesn’t yell at us all about the the weather” were his initial thoughts but these were soon forgotten when he remembered he’d voted himself in as ride leader with no opposition at all. Proud as punch he headed out to Jerrys to wait for the others: Nige, Moey, Boris, and David to arrive. Coffee and whatnot as usual and the service was excellent.

Nige saving Lucky’s order until Paris brings it to him. He’s good like that.


By the time everyone had arrived the skies had pretty much cleared and they stayed that way for the next three days of our trip to Bathurst and south to Goulburn.

The ride up to Bathurst was the usual except an exhuberant Nige kept seeing and thinking of “interesting” things to say and see.

“Put that in the ride report Lucky. That’s unforgettable” But both he and Lucky had forgotten whatever it was despite there being hundreds of them. The only upset was when Boris suggested we have coffees after lunch at the pub in Denman. We all glanced alarmingly at the angry man but, apart from a few grumbles under his breath and blaming the whole “debacle’ on Lucky’s ineffective ride leading, “You should overrule that Coffee suggestion because it will delay our departure “For F#@Ks sake, seriously?” he remained relatively passive. The coffee was splendid and tasted just a bit tastier after that.

Arriving in Bathurst at a decent hour, thanks to Lucky’s quality leading, we all sat for the millionth time in the bar at the Knickerbocker.

“Excellent ride leading as usual Lucky” said Boris with very little prompting.

“I’ve never felt safer or more elated old boy” There was more like that but people just stopped listening.

Now this was going to be the last time that Moey brought Young Rex, his cloned ZRX1200 of Old Rex (Old Sir Fallapart), and he was quietly emotional about that but remained stoic throughout the three days.

Rooms were allocated and showers taken then a quiet dinner in the bistro. Nobody misbehaved which was unusual and Nige lost money on the Keno which was not. Nevertheless a number of beers and a few Gallianos and off to bed.

An early getup saw Boris Nige, and Lucky out for a walk before coffees and meeting up with Moey and David for breakfast. Sadly Eva had been replaced as she has become very ill and is not expected to return as our breakfast host. The new lady whose name we did not ask cooked a great breakfast though and we swore we wouldn’t need any more that day. As if.

We headed south down Abercrombie Rd and only briefly briefly stopped in Taralga to stretch a bit.

Young Rex now lives up Tamworth way we hear.

There was little to no cars on the road and we made swift progress into Goulburn. Instead of eating at the Paradigm or whatever cafe, we went round the corner to a small cafe recommended by Boris who had eaten there with Mrs Boris a number of times earlier. We were given a private room where our voices wouldn’t carry to the more genteel diners and the food was every bit as good as Boris had said. Most of us had a pie or sausage roll but they were made on premises we think and were pretty happy with that.

Separated from the herd.

We came home via Crookwell this time at the recommendation of Nige who was supported by a couple of old boilers at the cafe. We didn’t expect much so were pleasantly surprised at how good this new road was. Apart from when Lucky rode past a well hidden sign to turn right which meant circling back about 50metres, the ride was fast and smooth and we were back in Bathurst by 5. There was more beer for most and Sugar Free Coke for Nige and dinner was, for the most part, delightful. Moey and Boris ate healthy whilst David, Lucky, and Nige had the chicken wings. Two of them had BBQ sauce which was delicious whilst Nige opted for the spicy alternative. We all clearly remembered Nige’s losing battle with indigestion that time at Denman with a spicy chicken burger so we were keen to see how he handled this stuff. Not well.

“Swap me some of yours, youse two” he repeatedly demanded between tears.

“No chance Hotty Hotface!!” squealed Lucky. “I wanna see blisters”

“This is what hell will be like for you and all other sinners if you don’t repent” added David with a slight smirk that nobody missed.

“Oh DD, why have you forsaken me.” pleaded Nige. Well maybe he didn’t say tha but that would have been funny and Lucky could have “put that in the report” if he had.


Nige struggling whilst Boris shows limited concern bordering on good humoured guffawing.

Sooo anyway after dinner we decided to go find ice cream like real 99% ers. We all ordered standard waffle cones but Nige (of course) decided on the apple pie and ice cream combo. So he stood, pushed aside by the friendly counter-staff and waited, and waited, and waited, eventually getting it about 15 minutes later. By the time he joined us we had finished so launched ourselves, especially Lucky, at his dessert. It was good, real good.

Behind that happy exterior lay a broken man. He was so grateful when we helped him eat that.

Off to bed and up early for yet another walk and coffees. Neither David nor Moey were waiting for us at the alternate breakfast time of 8 which was unusual. There was some confusion as neither of them remembered the clearly stated new time and thought 8.30 was it. David had wandered down anyway by about quarter past and Moey followed him after an urgent phone call a few minutes later. All was well and we enjoyed another big breakfast like the day before and just as good.

Boris had been talking about riding to Hill End and home via Bells Line but Moey offered to organise the next ride out that way anyway and threw in Mudgee as a sweetener. So he headed out Bells line and went straight home. Meanwhile, and remembering today was double demerits, Lucky led out at speeds that would probably not draw much attention from the gentlemen but had to be oft reminded to steady up from his good friend Nige. Moey headed off a bit earlier because his rear tyre was looking very ordinary so that left three. David peeled off at Broke so that left two back at Jerrys. David then turned up a little while later at Jerrys. It was good.




Rocky knew a man – Gunnedah December 2020

Now that’s a title for a story that could go anywhere. But it doesn’t take any nasty turns really. After our last ride to Mudgee we were all talking about where we could go next.

“Haven’t been to Gunnedah for a long time” Suggested Lucky

” It was about a month ago old son” pointed out Moey.

” I know a man in Gunnedah who will give us a deal on rooms at the Gunnedah Hotel. Heard of it?” Rocky asked

“Yeah Nuh, like we practically live there” piped in Nige with a sense of hopeful urgency. “Do the deal Rocky!”

“Splendid idea chaps. Count me in” Boris said. “Time to thrash the 800 before I trade it in for the 900”

And so it was decided. Rocky booked and paid for the rooms and we all gave him cash as part of the unspoken gentleman’s agreement clause so important to club traditions. Despite one case of Covid reported somewhere well south of Sydney and weather looking iffy, Rocky, Boris, Nige, Moey, and Lucky packed their plastics and agreed to meet at Jerry’s for departure. This, of course, was not without some protestations from one angry club member.

“Youse lot seem to forget that I’m the President of this motorcycle club and I decide where we leave from. The weather looks ordinary and Lucky, you always ride down and meet me at Maccas and that should continue. It’s a tradition dammit!! Don’t traditions mean anything to you? Huh, huh, huh???”

“Well not as much as you might think Nige.” replied Lucky with uncharacteristic cheek. He turned and quietly whispered something to Moey.

” It’s like something you always do old son” whispered Moey back to lucky.

“Thought so, but words can be tricky.” Moey gave Lucky a little paternal pat on the head.

Anyway, as agreed, we gathered at Jerry’s and headed west through Wollombi and round the back of Jerrys Plains to Denman for lunch. Nige led out and didn’t turn on his intercom because he was still a bit miffed about his traditions. Lucky listened to his own tunes and Boris and he chatted amiably from time to time about weather conditions and roads and such. It was nice.

Nige still miffed.

Denman was Denman. Good food. Lucky had a very nice King Prawn Fettucine and Boris shouted us all Lemon Lime and Bitters. Rocky was showing off his new suspenders, Moey was watching Nige closely and looking for any opportunity to wind him up a bit more, and Boris was watching the whole show with a dignified aloofness. Pretty typical. Then we were off again.

With Nige leading out again and watching for clouds, “You promised me no rain Lucky but all my apps say it will.”, we made good time to Merriwa and then on through to Willow Tree for fuel. Not Nige of course but he waited patiently. “Hurry up youse before it starts raining. My apps are never wrong.” It didn’t rain.

Willow Tree servo. It was a warm 34 but look at the clouds breaking up. Nige pointing his rude finger at anyone caring to pay attention. That was nobody.

With full tanks but emptying bellies, Nige led us on to Quirindi for coffee and cake. The little Asian women in the shop took a liking to Lucky’s Tiger because “It’s a velly nice red” but this frightened and embarrassed Lucky so no more was said about that. Now at this point Nige had been banging on about an alternative route that would take us “a more circuitous route and be more interesting for youse” There was some enthusiasm from a few but we were unsure about whether the road was sealed so we asked a local cowboy about it.

“Whall now pahdnah” he began “Y’all might want to avoid that particilar stretch on account o’ the grain wagons and the tumblin’ tumble weeds, you know, sorta driftin’ along” Confused by that and his face all full of pie we decided to trust him and his little dawgie and stick to the regular route.

Nige called him The Quirindi Cowboy. He really liked that pie.

As it happens he was right and we still made pretty good time out to Gunnedah. A quick shower and allocation of rooms. Lucky got the littlest room 111 and Nige the biggest 110 but Lucky slept the best whilst Nige, despite an actual corridor to his palatial en-suite, got no sleep once again. “Too noisy, too hot, and I think somebody must have put a pea under my mattress because I was very uncomfortable” We all sighed and felt terrible for him except Moey who might have called him a whining little princess but also might not have.

Two minutes later – zzzzzz. “I slept like a baby. Even wet the bed.”

That night we ate in the Italian Restaurant attached to the pub. Food was very good and Moey graciously paid the tab. Pizzas and Osso Buccos and other assorted meals as well as a couple of bottles of merlot followed by gelato. From here back to the lounge where, as usual, nobody had ever heard of port. “Galiano it is lads” cheered Rocky and called first round. Somebody went second and somebody went third and so on. It was very civilised. Around 11 we all toddled off to bed where four slept well. Giggles.

Galianos all round. Nige sticking to his Sugar Free Cokes

Early start next morning when all but Moey, who had had the deepest sleep of all, went for a walk around town and then met up with Moey at the “Jack and Jill” cafe for breakfast. Service was always fast and courteous but this morning things went awry. The delightful young waitress came out to tell us ( after a while anyway ) that the cook had to “Go out” so breakfast might be delayed 10 mins or so. 40 mins later, starving, Boris decided he would handle this and with a bunch of “I says” and “I do beg your pardons” as well as a bunch of other educated phrases we had never heard before, breakfast arrived. All were very pleased except for one angry man who described his scrambled eggs as “Slop” Moey had found an old dummy out on the road and presented it to that angry man, “Here you are old son, see how far you can spit that” We all laughed loudly and Rocky cheered of course.

“Mmmmm, I shall have the “Jack and Jill Special please miss” Says Lucky.

“Try the scrambled eggs Nige. They sound delicious.”

After this debacle we headed back to our rooms to pack and meet downstairs. Lucky locked his helmet in his room and had to hunt down cleaning staff to get back in but other than that all went relatively well. There was some confusion about which motorcycle Moey had brought this time.

“Is it Old Sir Fallapart or New Sir Fallapart” asked Lucky

“Or is it The new Old Sir Fallapart with shorty muffler or the old New Sir Fallapart with gold wheels and didlybobs?” asked Nige.

“It’s a splendid machine either way” Boris added.

“Huzzah for New Old Sir Fallapart and Old Sir New Fallapart” Rocky cheered.

“Its Rex” said Moey

“Nuh. Too confusing” said Lucky to nods of agreement all round.

That’s OSF or NSF or Rex in the middle not falling apart.

Now talk about confusing, when you leave the Gunnedah Hotel you have to hand in your key to a special metal box on the wall near the exit. Nobody is sure what kind of people stay here but some must really struggle with instructions.

It was no Fort Knox. Moey helped Lucky of course.

And then we were off for home. We did stop and look at a few of the Silo Trail participants and they were pretty good in an arty kind of way.

In Gunnedah

In Merriwa.

The trip home was cold and windy but the roads were up to the usual good standing. We went though Tambar Springs and on to Coolah where we turned to the winding, hilly roads that eventually brought us back to the Golden Highway and on to Merriwa for lunch. Pies. From here it was the usual quick bursts of overtaking trucks and cars until we reached the turnoff to the Putty Road. Nige and Moey stayed on the Highway and headed north to the Hunter expressway where they soon lost touch with each other anyway. Rocky was supposed to go with them but inexplicably turned towards an industrial estate and the last we saw of him was the back of his lovely BMW heading towards some giant smoke stacks. He may still be there on some assembly line turning out brass spigots. Hope not. Meanwhile, Boris and Lucky chose the more sensible Putty Rd to Broke to Kulnura and coffee and warm welcomes from Amanda and Jerry. A quick manly cuddle, nothing suss, and we too parted ways as Boris headed south to the new North Connex and home.

It didn’t rain on anyone at any time.

You’re welcome.


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Ride Leader Lucky – Oct 2020

Boris had a plan. It was a good plan too. Rocky said he wanted to go to Mudgee to see the motorcycle museum there so invitations were sent out. Four rooms only at The Winning Post Motel right in the centre of town. Lucky had scored a room and Moey was a close second.

“Gentlemen” said Boris. “Gentlemen, I have organised luxury apartment rooms but there will be no riff-raff.” That pretty much wiped out any other Nige’s for a late call-up so it was agreed a compliment of four was just about right. “Yep, sounds good Boris” said Lucky. “Moey and I will fix you up for the rooms when we get there right Moey?”

“Tally-Ho” replied Moey which made no sense to any of us.

On the morning of the ride we were supposed to meet at Jerrys at 10.30 but Moey had problems from the start. “Meister, I’ve got problems with my water and Rex has new brakes and carby bits which need gentle care away from the wet roads of Kulnura” He said calling from his home in Wyee and the last remaining fixed land-line in Australia.


“No Lucky, my pipes not pushing through what it should and I need to scour the area for weaknesses and maybe a patch….” by which stage Lucky had forgotten why Moey called anyway but nodded politely even though Moey couldn’t see him at the other end of the line. “I might not get to Jerrys on time so I’ll meet you all at Denman.”

“OK Unky Momo, bring me a present.” He didn’t.

“Don’t forget you owe me money for those T shirts we bought in Bathurst Lucky. We had a gentleman’s agreement.”

“Got it here for you and will pay you at Denman” He did. Promptly.

It was pouring rain at Jerrys and Lucky had been waiting just a short while when Boris and Rocky rode in. Two other riders were there and one of them was carrying on like a pork chop about how great Trump had been for America and wasn’t it a shame that he was losing the elections.

“Really” pointed out Boris, bristling at the crazy republican, “Do you think he was good for America and its people?” which startled the redneck wannabe whose understanding of American politics seemed limited to what Fox News told him so he went away muttering something about him doing more for black America and stopping Covid in its tracks etc ” An American hero” we heard as he disappeared in a cloud of Versys smoke.

As those two departed Lucky nominated himself designated ride-leader “I’m in charge in Nige’s absence.” and off they went. Rocky was on his new GS1250 after trading in his old RR1000 after it hit a rock and dented its front rim. And that is how he got his name. Simple logic from the Niges once again. It rained heavily out through Wollombi but began to ease off around Broke where we fuelled up.

Boris not attempting to push Rocky over at Broke servo.

Redboy undaunted by torrential downpour.

“Come on boys, Moey’s waiting at Denman!!” Called ride-leader Lucky as they headed off at a decent pace that saw blue skies begin to emerge as they skirted around the back of Jerries Plains and on to the Royal Hotel at Denman. As predicted, Moey had arrived only moments earlier. “Here’s that money I owe you Unky Momo” said Lucky bowing graciously and handing over a crisp twenty.

“Just as well Lucky. I’d hate to have to chase you for it.”

“No no Unky Momo, a Gentleman’s Agreement is bindering”

“Binding Lucky”

At this point an ashen faced Boris made a startling announcement. “Chaps, you wont believe this but my dungarees appear to have filled with water!!”

“Blimey!!” exclaimed Rocky. “Problems with the down-unders then old mate?”

“No no of course not Rocky. Dont be absurd old boy. All’s well in that department I assure you. It’s these blasted plastic pants. They leak like the Titanic’s portholes! I’ll be sluicing around in these for the rest of the trip I suppose. Blasted nuisance but there you are.” and, with that stoicism and pants as full as a Catholic school, he waded towards the front bar.

Lunch at Denman was the usual carnage with a beer and then it was off to Bylong. “Go ride-leader Lucky.”  “You’re the best ride-leader Lucky” Lucky thought he heard them all say as he steered them on. They didn’t say that. Mind you, about fifty metres from the Bylong servo Ol’ Sir Fallapart went roaring and farting past ride-leader Lucky. “That rude behaviour will not be tolerated!” said Lucky more to himself than anyone else but he gave Moey a bit of a scowl when he thought Moey wasn’t looking.

Arriving at Bylong for wees and coffee, Moey then suggested they ride a new section of road that ran directly from Bylong to Mudgee called Wollar Rd. “So long as I remain ride-leader.” said Lucky. It was very good and saved about twenty minutes which would have given them all more time to listen to Lucky’s very interesting conversations when they got there. That didn’t happen. At around 4.30 they pulled into the Winning post and went off to their rooms to shower and whatnot, leaving Lucky without an audience, then met down at the bar a bit later.

“Right lads, we’re off to Kelly’s Pub for libations.” Said Boris, now sporting a clean and dry bottom. Rocky cheered heartily and we were off. We had a few but nothing silly and then headed back to the motel restaurant for some pretty decent meals topped off with a delightful Pinot Noir.

And then the conversation took an interesting turn. Moey and Lucky recalled that, at the Knickerbocker Hotel on the last ride, there had been an incident. Nige and Lucky had been having a fairly animated discussion on words that describe sounds. Onomatopoeia. After giving several examples, splash, grind, gulp, swallow etc. and other equally unsavoury examples, Nige made his first mistake. “Dip”. Lucky roared with laughter knowing he had his friend at checkmate. But Nige was unshakeable.

“Dip is a good example of onomatopoeia and you know it Lucky!”

“No it’s not Nige and dipping your chin when you say it doesn’t make it Onomatopoeic!.”

“I’m not dipping my chin.” said Nige dipping his chin.

“You just did it again!”

“Did not!”

“Did so!”

And so the argument continued to the cheers of drunken onlookers who had by now formed a throng around the two literary dimwits. Heated discussions among the crowd led to fists being thrown and revellers tumbling out onto the footpaths. Many screamed incoherent curses of denials whilst others frantically dipped their chins in a macabre dance of maniacal zeal.

“Oh yeah I remember that” said Moey ” Did Nige ever concede?” he asked giggling over his Campari and soda.

“He found some list from some lunatic who had the word dip as an example of onomatopoeia and texted it to me a few days later.” Lucky laughed, uncontrollably, squirting Shirley Temple out of his nose. “But I ignored him.” Both agreed Bathurst was a hoot and that was that.


“A bloody good red that” said a solemn Boris and Rocky cheered again. Rocky was having a good time.

“Righto gentlemen, a wonderful story and I have fond recollections of that ride but now shall we adjourn to the bar for whisky and cigars?” Boris had all the right moves. There was more cheering from Rocky plus American Honeys all round. The foursome was asked politely to leave at 10.

The rooms were very spacious and all slept soundly. Any snoring was muffled by the thick double-bricked walls separating the rooms. “Even Nige couldn’t get a bad room here.” Said Lucky happily next morning. “Yes he could.” replied Moey and we all smiled quietly at the thought of that.

That’s Lucky’s king size bed waaaay over there. Could have parked Moey’s van next to the coffee table.

Breakfast was the usual buffet style that you get at good Hotels and it was deeeeelicious and well priced. From here we set off to the Museum at Stein’s Winery. It was pretty good and had about twenty vintage bikes lined up. Boris and Rocky were very happy to see bikes older than they were I suppose and a few, Like the AJS and Vincent, were “Particularly pleasing” to both of them.

Any more than four in here would have been socially irresponsible. There was no line at the door waiting though.

After this we headed for home. “More fabulous leading ride-leader Lucky” Lucky would have liked to have heard but didn’t. “You seemed to get faster as we got nearer home. Like some demented pony at a riding school” Boris said later and laughed at his own simile. Rocky cheered some more. “Well said old chap” and then guffawed at Lucky who, confused about what Boris had said, turned to Moey. “They think I did a great job as ride-leader didn’t they Moey?”

“We all thought the same thing Lucky.” which satisfied Lucky to some degree.

They then headed back along the same stretch of road and had a quick stop at Bylong. From there they headed around the back of Denman and through the farms so Rocky could enjoy about 400 metres of dirt road on his Beemer which handled it all “in a very unfussed way” Moey’s Ol’ Sir Fallapart rattled along without too much going on or falling off so he was happy enough too. A quick stop at Broke and back to Jerrys for hugs. All in all it was a good ride. Muffled cheers from Rocky’s helmet as he rode off for home. “Huzzahh!!!”

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A Gentleman’s Agreement in Bathurst October 2020

“Seven, seriously? Seven?”

“Yes Nige” replied Lucky “And we’re all leaving together” That was a nice change.

And, with that, between them Lucky and Nige set to organise another overnighter to Bathurst. Nige booked on-line whilst Lucky, who saw technology as about as trustworthy as a Donald Trump Covid exam, “He’s a dirty fibber!! Pardon my French!”, decided to book over the phone. After many days of chasing up rooms and booking doubles that were cancelled as new singles became available, the Knickerbocker again agreed to accept the Niges for another night.

Seven rooms sorted.

With that all settled and Moey dropping in on an old mate’s 80th on the morning of departure, we were all ready to go. Nige, Lucky, Boris, Fairy Dust (Ironic since he is totally a hard man), Barnaby, Moey, and Dave. Out to Broke where Nige told Lucky he had not raced off at silly speeds just because Lucky chose to ride towards the back of the pack and was not there to challenge nor lead him astray. Did I mention he remains alcohol free and within a healthy weight range (73kg wringing wet) which means he could be blown off the Beemer pretty easily at speed, especially with Arthur Ritus in both wrists, so he couldn’t really hang on anymore anyway.

Broke looked exactly the same as it always did.

See. Exactly the same.

Then things went horribly wrong. Nige, generally pretty reliable took a wrong turn. “OH MY GOD, HE’S HEADING TOWARDS BULGA!!” we all shouted collectively.

“That man will be the death of us all” Sighed Moey

“I’ll have to snot him when we get to Denman” said Barnaby with street-cred cool.

” Let’s string him up by his gonads!!!” roared a hard-man with an ironic name.

” Gadzooks, this will never do.” said Boris.

“Has anybody seen my hanky?” asked Lucky with some concern.

Anyway we arrived at Bulga and Nige was half unsaddled before he realised his error. “Haha youse” He started ” I know exactly what I’m doing and decided to come this way for a change. Now foller me!!” A quick surreptitious look at his Garmin and a press of a few buttons and we were away. Lucky didn’t find his hanky.

Onto Denman. Barnaby was “Toungin’ for the spicy chicken burger!” at the pub so, hoping to gain some of Barnaby’s street cred, Lucky ordered the same. Barnaby attacked his like a Mongolian horde on a Chinese monastery and then complained it lacked enough spicy sauce and other acid-based condiments. Lucky, on the other hand, deconstructed his first then nibbled away, sweating blood, till it was done. “Yeth I agree” “Very thad thpices” and went off to dunk his head in a small bucket of crushed ice. Meanwhile Nige’s GSA had all but shed it’s rear hugger and that had to be dealt with. Moey, I assume, had the Beemer strung upside down whilst he warmed up his angle grinder, I assume, to remove it. The rest of us, meanwhile, did wees and whatnot and generally got ourselves sorted.

Off we went again and the weather was perfect despite predictions of rain. Fuelling up at Broke then on through Rylstone, Sofala and the other usual spots. Fairy Dust (Ironic since he is totally a hard man) was very happy with his newish Bandit and grew in confidence as the trip continued “Outta my way girly men” and “I’m wearing an airbag and am invincible!!” Nobody argued with Fairy Dust (Ironic since he is totally a hard man) about this or anything else for the rest of the trip. As we approached Bathurst the intercom-talk turned to Mt Paranoia. “We’ll all go there as usual” stated Nige.

“What do you want to do Fairy Dust which I know is not your real name and just an Ironic badge you wear for humour?” Lucky asked

“We’ve been to Mt Paranoia Lucky and don’t need to go again” This split the group into two. Nige and Moey and Barnaby to the mountain and Lucky, Boris and Fairy Dust (Ironic since he is totally a hard man) to the pub.

Leaving Broke. Fairy Dust (Ironic since he is totally a hard man) looking for his special loop to connect airbag. Technical.


So we arrived at the


and commenced to drink beer. Well, after we had cleaned up and organised ourselves anyway. So about half an hour after we had arrived and phoned wives (Not Nige) we commenced to drink beer (Not Nige). After some shouts and whatnot we thought food. Now Boris had never heard of nachos so he was keen to give it a go as it sounded “Splendid” Both Lucky and Fairy Dust (Ironic since he is totally a hard man) ordered the same. They were big meals and we couldn’t finish them. Lucky spilled his down his shirt and pants but caught the bowl before it hit the ground so salvaged most of it.

“Where has this been hiding all my life?”

Boris gave the nachos a thumbs up but, when asked what he thought of Tim Tams. He admitted to never having heard of them. So something for him to try next trip. At 9 Boris went sleepy byes. At 9.05 Lucky went too. Nige was cranky about this but lacked the fire he used to have when he was drinking so we ignored that but promised to meet him next morning for an early walk.

Next morning at 7, Nige, Boris, and Lucky left for a leisurely 40 min stroll around Bathurst and then on to a local cafe for some pretty putrid coffee then back to the pub for our usual king sized breakfast. Eva forgot to cook Lucky’s breakfast so made him an even bigger one to make up. Lucky. Then Scotty the pub’s owner took a few of us upstairs to buy some cheap pub T shirts. One of them was all about ordering our first schooner after Covid at the Knickerbocker. These were a good price at $20 but we had to pay cash for some reason. Lucky was a little troubled because “We didn’t really order our first beer at the Knickerbocker after Covid did we?” “Let it go Lucky” said Barnaby who understood better than anyone how these things worked. Anyway, Moey paid the hundred for everybody and most paid him except Lucky. “I promise to pay you the lobster Moey. A gentleman’s agreement!!” Moey accepted Lucky as a man of his word but the rest promised to keep watching closely to see he does. “Don’t think you’ll scam Moey out of that debt Lucky or there’s going to be a problem.” This is a very hard school. Lucky avoided eye-contact with everyone for the remainder of the trip.

After the walk. The coffee quickly wiped those smiles of our faces.

Boris did not join us for the return journey. Much to Nige’s displeasure, which we all ignored, he opted to take a more direct route home along Bell’s line then on to The Toaster. He said afterwards it was a pretty cold trip but enjoyable anyway. The rest of us headed back the reverse route with no issues. A quick gathering at Jerrys for Nige, Lucky, and Barnaby from memory, whilst the others headed straight home. Lucky still hasn’t paid Moey yet so sleeps poorly with a sock full of pennies under his pillow just in case.


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A Cold One in Bathurst – July 2020

All the fairy-floss boys were still tucked up cosy and warm in their flannel night shirts when the Nige’s met at Tuggerah maccas for the two night ride to Bathurst and beyond. Boris, Nige, Lucky, and Moey hugged it out as usual over skinny caps and chai lattes or whatever. Nige, now alcohol free since before the last ride welcomed us warmly to the table.

“Yes no. Hello”

“Hi Nige”We all said and then spoke of mundane matters. Numbers were down a little because Barnaby was off dealing with family matters and DD was saving souls somewhere in the hinterlands we assumed but never asked him at any point.

Lucky led out happily and he and Nige and Boris all chatted about how great Moey was. We had intercoms and he didn’t leaving him joyfully isolated from the other three.

“A fine fellow wouldn’t you say Nige?” Asked Boris.

“Yes no I couldn’t agree more” he replied. “And doesn’t he ride a splendid line”

“You sure are more relaxed and lucid since you stopped drinking Nige” Lucky commented

“Yes no thank you Philip”

Anyway, the conversation continued along these lines as we headed north then west under brilliant blue skies and had our usual early lunch in Denman. The usual stuff although Boris may have had something pretty strange and exotic beyond our understanding. Fish I think. After that he and the red meat boys (not Nige as he was self-regulating his intake of food as well) saddled up and soon found ourselves in Bylong for wees and such.

“Look at me. I own the store!!”

Nige pointed out a new advertising sign  on the Bylong store. Lucky of course was thrilled as he thought it was a legally  binding contract listing him as the new proprietor. “Woohoo boys, the sandwiches are on me” Moey, of course was about to set him straight when Nige interceded. “Yes no look Lucky. The law is quite clear here….” and he went on to explain the ins and outs of constitutional law in great detail but Lucky had already been distracted by other things. “Ooooh look, that flower has red circles on it” and so Nige removed his half rimmed reading glasses, wiped them carefully with a small chamois he kept for just that purpose, ahemmed quietly, and let the matter drop.

Next stop was, of course, Mt Paranoia or whatever for yet another look across the largely unchanged Bathurst landscape. This time there was something different about it. There seemed to be a big steel walkway in the way. Ignoring the “Stay Off” signs, and Nige’s protests, we climbed across and stood on it, gazing out northwards. “Now this is much better” said Moey. “A good six feet closer to the same stuff we look at every other time we come here.”

Boris and Lucky enjoying the views. Probably should have looked behind them though.

Should really turn around at some point. It was probably nice out there.

Onto the Knickerbocker for many beers although not as many as usual because Nige was still on the Sugar-Free Cokes as his shrinking waistline and healthier heart and lungs demanded. Somewhere through the evening it was decided by Boris that Boris would not be returning to the Knickerbocker next night and, since we were heading down to Goulburn next day, he may as well return to The Toaster and his good wife while the rest of us (two) would turn around and head back to Bathurst. DD was coming up tomorrow anyway and he could take Boris’ room and fix him up for it later under some gentleman’s agreement. So that worked out magnificently for all concerned. Nige then lost his life savings on Keno as usual but still went to bed with hope in his heart for next time. So that was nice.

“Yes no this is it boys. I’ll never be poor again”

Next morning was very very cold. Nige and Lucky were up early and went for a walk and found hot coffee. We breakfasted with Svetlana or Eve or Ava (I can never remember her name but I think she comes from the Baltic states) as usual and all got the usual big fry up of various non-domesticated animals, despite what we asked for. “I just wanted a light fruit smoothy’ said Lucky. “I was hoping for a low-fat yoghurt” said Boris except he pronounced it “Yogget” and we snickered a bit at that. “Yes no get this rubbish away from my body which is a temple” said Nige “A desecrated temple old son” giggled Moey and then the rest of us until Nige shot an angry glare our way which reminded us of past rides and so we all shut up then. “Thanking you!!” He said. Moey turned quietly to Boris and whispered “He was a lot more jolly when he was fat”

“Yes no, unacceptable”

After breakfast Moey headed back to Wyee and we three headed south to Goulburn via Abercrombie Rd. It was still very cold but we had warm gear and heated grips. Lucky’s mighty Explorer had heated seats “My bottoms hot” so we were pretty ok. The ride down through the pine forest is great of course with long winding asphalt and nice curves here and there and we were there in a few hours. “Splendid ride chaps” Said Boris enthusiastically. “I’d ride that with you again even if you were Eton men!!” Which meant nothing to us but we took it as a compliment anyway. “Gee thanks Boris” Lucky said. “Yes no yes no yens ye…nuh” Nige said trailing off all confused.

Iced over but ready to go.

Nige and Boris down by the mighty Abercrombie River. Not far to go.

Into Goulburn for lunch and, remembering the size of breakfast, lunch at The Paragon was insurmountable. Even a light wrap came with a serve of chips that would fill an American. Embarrassed, we left most of it to the crows and, bidding Boris a fond farewell we headed back to Bathurst.

Little did we know what waited inside.

So Nige and Lucky returned just in time to meet DD who by now was settled comfortably with a nice beer in front of him. A few more drinks with a light dinner (None for Lucky, he was already bursting at the seems) and sleepy time. Again next morning Nige and Lucky went out walking and coffeeing. We found some interesting objects d’art and wondered at the sick minds that came up with them.

“This is where his testicles would be Lucky except for the weirdo who carved this monstrosity and forgot to put them on”

And so with all this behind us, Nige Lucky and DD headed home out through Sofala, Rylstone, Bylong, Denman etc. The weather remained perfect although dark clouds were gathering on the coast. Lucky made it home dry.

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