Big bag of wind [King Rat - 2000/08/03]

You guys wouldn't believe what happened to me the other night on the way back from work. There I was pootling down the highway at 180 and the wind way chucking me all over the place, the zorst is making a beautiful howl when I recon, "yarra, I'm sure I can hear these voices" and I think, "naah, must be the vitamins I'm taking". So I check this car looming up to me so I decide to change lanes and check in my right mirror, (as one does!!!!!!) and bliksem me with a bent fork, I check the ugliest bitch (complete with backyard Barbies's do it yourself blond in a bottle hair) hanging from the sleeve of my jacket!! So I kak myself and ask her in very pointy words who
the fuck she is and what the fuck she thinks she is doing. She tunes me back in this very deep south accent, "Hey china, I'm the wicked wind witch of the south, and I want you to gooi this gif boney into those bushes over there."
And she points to a moersa klomp of thorn bushes. Just as I'm thinking how fucked this bitch is, I hear another voice and I look in my left mirror and I check this other wiry haired, platinum blond number hanging from my left sleeve, and she shouts, "hey doll", (yeah, you guessed it, the wicked wind witch of the north) "don't listen to that bitch, throw your cycle at the lamp post over there", indicating one of them huge muthafucker highway lamp posts. So while these 2 are pulling at each other's hair, and booting each other in the poes, I check these 2 huge trucks driving next to each other and I get an idea. I drop a gear and nail it through the trucks. When I come out the other side I cruise along home without being thrown all over the place. Sooooo if you ever wonder why your bike flies all over the road or why my jacket has holes in the sleeves, wonder no more!!!!!!!!!!
Please nurse may I have some more!!!!!!!

Beware of diplomats [Dented Rat - 1999/08]

I was shooting home after work in August 1999. The traffic was heavy and I was glad to get an open span of road. I wound the throttle up and headed for the green traffic light ahead of me. I saw that there was a car waiting to turn right, but knowing I had right of way, I carried on. Just as I was about ten metres from the traffic lights, the bugger in the car decides to drop his clutch and turn in front of me. I immediatly thought of evasive action, but the cahn in the next car was also pulling away, thus blocking any escape around the back of the offender. So, grabbed ancors and went into the side of him. Must have been doing about 100 km/h at the time of impact.

I was left with one ex Moto Guzzi Le Mans III, a shattered lower right leg (Tibia broken in 3 places and fibia in one) and a broken pubic bone. So, why did this happen? Because the stupid sod Czeck diplomat who had only been in the country for two days forgot that he was driving on the left hand side of the road. Dumb fuck!

Anyway his insurance paid out and I got another Guzzi Le Mans III, but with the 1000cc big bore conversion.

Someone scored a bottle of red wine for lifting the bike off this leg [Rasta Rat - 1998/10]

You know like when you pitched first and left last at a pub where you met up with some real lekker bikers? You get so pissed that you consider dragging yer bike home by the handlebars. Then sometimes you make it all the way home, but as you turn in at the gate (in 6th gear to be in relation to the speed you're doing) and climb onto the pavement, you can swear there must've been grease on the pavement or somethin' cause next thing you open your eyes and your boney is lying on your leg pinning you down. Actually you're so hammered, you sommer just wanna pass out right there. As you're fading, some security doos wakes you up and offers to lift her up, and luckily you didn't moer him already for waking you. She's up, you manage to get on, she starts alright being flooded, and she gets ridden in and parked. When you wake up the next afternoon in your unlocked flat you smell something burning. You check your kitchen and there is boilt egg and eggshell on the roof, the cupboards, the floor, maaan... everywhere, and your pot is jumping around on the stove. You figure you must've been hungry when  you got home and put an egg on before you passed out. Carefully you look out the window to find one car in the parkinglot with your bike parked behind it! You don't go in to graft that day, pray the owner of the car doesn't ever see you, and although you can't step on your one leg you manage to pull your bike into the garage and not show it for weeks to come.

Nicky Noodle Does the Desert [Noodle Rat - 2003/04]

Not happy that riding bikes in SA isn't danerous enough, our roving reporter decided to hare off to China. Finding China somewhat boring, he darted to Bahrain so as best to see Iraq be turned to a desert by many bombs.

Well, the desert turned out boring and young Noodle heard that the SARS was in China. Now knowing that the SA Revenue Service likes to ensure okes pay their tax and that they had even gone to China to find Nicky, he decided to shoot back there and sort things out. Hey Nicky, we miss youse, come back to SA and ride a bit!

The Eastern Transvaal Trip - December 2002

Some time back Dylan tuned me we must go on a ride to the ET. Now this is summat I have wanted to do for a while, but the opportunity when presented saw me without bucks and vice versa. Fortunately this time it was different, xmas box and all allowing, we made plans and were having sleepless nights waiting for 20 December to arrive. I took the TRX down the dyno to ensure it was running at peak efficiency, bikes were cleaned, oil checked, chains lubed and we were ready.

Some other people were meant to come with, but for various reasons did not make it. A pity, I was especially looking forward to Miguel giving his Mike Hailwood replica the berries and Eugene giving his new blade a good seeing to:)

Come 20 Dec, we were packed and orf to graft, having to both work half days. I bought some new Dosondi carbon gloves the day before at Mosskays for R650 and was subsequently horrified to see Dosondi gloves looking similar going for R320 at barking accessories. The Mosskays loves were subsequently returned sharp at around 12h30 on Friday and I was off to Pta. The gloves at barking weren't of the same level, but choices choices, so many different styles. Settled for some nice red white and black items with carbon on knuckles and cell rang, was Dylan waiting on side of N3, Phuck. Leap on scoot and hare orf to meet him, splash and dash at the shell on the way and within minutes we are sailing between caravans, boats and the rest of the holiday traffic down the N12. Couple of cops around, but nothing too bad, we didn't get nailed for the 180 km/h we averaged to Dullstroom. Belfast saw more petrol and a quick coke, Dullies a brief stop for a bevvie with El Presidente of Gutter Rats. Man them Dullstroom boys are relaxed, Friday afternoon and they are already half stoned.

Dylan and me at Blyder River Valley.	The TRX and the RSV at the half way mark of the Hazieview '44'.

Anyway, we check that its looking like rain in the east, so off we go, Lydenburg in no time, Long Tom and mist strikes, patches of sun between patches of mist so thick you could chew it. Still, we did our best and were soon in Sabie where we immediately did a quick turn of the Hazieview road to about the 18k mark where we hit a very mild drizzle and shot back. Grabbed a graze and beer and found accommodation (at Woodsman). Had just got changed and were grabbing another beer when a bloke called Mark (race prepped R1, no light or all and slicks) recognises Dylan. We end up chatting to him and his china Dave and getting a bit bevvied up at Pit Lane.

Next day we are up at six thirsty, bath quick ride of the Hazieview 44 back for brekkie and out again. Fugging awesome day Hazieview, Graskop, Blydepoort and some wee tunnel. Grab petrol and turn back. Fark but I am starting to style, all the highway commuting has not helped my cornering style and Dylan on the RSV is giving me carrots, but I am at last getting to the edge of the tyre. We get back to the Pilgrims rest turnoff and decide to shoot to the Royal for a quick bevvie. Get there and the strain starts showing, I am feeling a bit shagged and even Dylan has a bit of arm pump. No worries, off we go back up shite pass and call it a day when we hit the Woodsman.

Rest break at Strydom Tunnel.	Royal Hotel at Pilgrims Rest - what a horrid road to ride!

Styling beers, bloke making us try his insane chilli sauce, Pit lane, pool, end up in Witrivier Spur and the some scaly club in Nelspruit. Heavy night but hey, caught lift in Dave's BMW (they trailed their bikes, one being race prepped and all). Man them cops there are cool, or more like non-existent, gentlemen's agreement and you can go apeshit, just behave in town. Okes were there on the same RSV's they raced BOTT's on! Slicks, race farings, fugall lights, not even a side stand.

anyway, wake a bit later Sunday and off we go. Dylan went and did some serious riding and I grabbed a graze and joined in. The TRX was doing well and I reckon my riding improved big time, yet still there is the odd moment of panic where you forget yourself and grab brakes instead of going with the adage : "when in doubt, stick it in". Suppose you cannae become master in just one weekend.

Come 12 we are done and phuck off up long Tom and back home. El P is gonna kill me cause I didn't stop in on way back.

Some highlights.

1. The Hazieview '44', it really is the best and you will not ken what I am tuning unless you have done it!

2. Hansa draught, yes Hansa is now available in draught.

3. TRX while tit, is way slow that RSV pucks off in a big way.

4. Road from Graskop to Blydepoort, seriously tit riding, not as challenging as Hazieview but great place to get the eye in.

5. Generally tit weekend, hope to do another one soon!

6. Trailering scoots isn't so woosie, that road from Belfast to Pta is seriously boring and just shaggs yer scoot cause you get gatvol and pin it the whole way. Reckon there is something in maybe taking the scoots to the fun bits on a trailer. it sound lank woosie I ken and the ride there was tit, but hell, I was not lus for the ride back, ja long Tom was tit and we carroted it, but from then on it was like ho hum, hurry up, wish I had a turbo 1600 busa etc etc.

Um, dunno, nice view, nice road.	Me cornering on Hazieview '44'. (And I thought I was leaning way over!)

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