Clear, sunny morning—unusual for a Monday. Arriving from 7:30 for an 8:00 departure, we had eight starters:
Perry, Lassi, Whispers, Doc Martin, Russel, Bob, Maestro, and John Mac.
We were about to depart when I received a phone call from the Colonel. He asked where we were going this morning, as he had an early appointment and planned to catch up with us. I replied, “Diggies at Kiama Blowhole.”
Just as we were about to leave, Lassi had a parking lot mishap which resulted in a rear vision mirror surround parting company with the bike. Perry came to the rescue with an instant spare part—commonly called duct tape. Repair carried out, we were underway.
Old PHW to Bulli, where the clouds of doom started to cover the sun. Having doubts about the weather, we continued on until the clouds dissipated and the sun emerged.
A good, fast run to Kiama with plenty of available parking—almost at the door. We were allocated a large table where we could all fit. Then came the good part: checking out the menu.
I was disappointed to find my favourite, “The Full Quid”—bacon, sausage, eggs, hash brown, tomato, lettuce, chutney, chips—was no longer listed. Depression almost set in, but was avoided thanks to the great bunch of guys I was with. I settled for plain old bacon and eggs.
We had almost finished when the Colonel arrived, giving us an excuse to enjoy the outdoors a little longer. Doc decided to leave early to be home for a delivery at lunchtime, and the rest of us followed about ten minutes later—where we observed Doc exploring his mechanical skills on a very dead BMW.
Being a man prepared for all things, he had a battery booster. With a wriggle and a boost, she fired up. Loose connections and corrosion eliminated, we were away.
Same way home, arriving about lunchtime—all except Maestro and Whispers.
Go back to last week’s ride, where I found a large crater. Unable to avoid it, I heard a bang, and checking my mirror, I saw my top box bouncing off in the distance. The box was retrievable but damaged. Fitting it back on was achieved with tape, ocky straps, and Velcro bands—which got me home.
Maestro told me he had a new box at home which I could have, and if I followed him home, we could fit it this week—which we did. Full marks to Maestro for the long journey from his place at Balmain to Loftus every Monday to join our ride. And thank you for the new box—very much appreciated.
Cheers, John “Whispers” Warren
