https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/blog.php/11704-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Kiwi Biker - New Zealand motorcycle community en Sat, 02 May 2026 20:19:58 GMT vBulletin 20 https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/images/BP-Brown/misc/rss.jpg https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/blog.php/11704-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/2660-A-sudden-urge-to-get-in-to-the-unknown-By-Conquiztador Tue, 18 Dec 2012 12:52:14 GMT I wanted to travel from Haumoana (outside Napier) to Palmerston Nth. A easy 2 hour trip. I have done this trip a multitude of multitude of times. There was many options of how to travel, but in my wisdom I decided to take my 65 Pan. As I had plans to ride on her to Waihi Beach to see Blacklistt and... I wanted to travel from Haumoana (outside Napier) to Palmerston Nth. A easy 2 hour trip. I have done this trip a multitude of multitude of times. There was many options of how to travel, but in my wisdom I decided to take my 65 Pan. As I had plans to ride on her to Waihi Beach to see Blacklistt and Devilskin (and one more band that escapes me) on 22 Dec I concluded that this would be a good presidents run...

The plan was to do a daylight run. My notes told me that I was to leave at 2pm and arrive at 4 - 4.30pm.

As I kicked PanGirl to life at 5pm I knew I would make it before the sun settled. After all, a bike with a small battery as there was no electric start, and a 12 volt generator was better suited for daylight riding. (As she is a classic she does not need to follow the stoopid rule of lights on 24/7).

She starts well. First kick. Yep, I be happy to have a beer on it anytime. Happily I rode towards the south. At Waipukurau the clutch was not working. But I did not consider this an issue, just a small nuicense. So I stopped for petrol.

After I had filled the tank and paid, I decided to check the clutch. I found that the whole basket was loose and hitting the cover. So, as you do, I took my tools, disassembled the trans and the clutch. I fixed the issues and then re-assembled it all, and it worked well. (This was 2 1/2 hours later and the clock was now 8.30pm and the sun was starting to hide behind the hills).

I got to Dannevirke w/o issues. (If you disregard the crappy lights and cars that were up my azz) But as I tried to change down, I found that there was no clutch. I stopped at Mobile, but was told that the lights would go out in less than one hour. I pushed my girl to Caltex. There I stripped it all again, my girl dropped to her r/h side and broke the kick start, (She was in a peed off mode. The way only girls can be) and I managed to rebuild the clutch and stop it all falling apart by using Super Glue (No idea how I will take it apart...). At 1am I asked the lady at the station to push start the bike for me (remember, I had no kick start). She had done thhis before, and I was on my way.

9 hours from leaving Haumoana I was at my destination. Not bad...

To get back I borrowed a Duke, then took the Duke back in my van and pushed PanGirl in there.




Was a brilliant day for a ride!!!! ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/2660-A-sudden-urge-to-get-in-to-the-unknown-By-Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/1864-White-Ribbon-Ride-2010 Tue, 07 Dec 2010 11:33:39 GMT I rode the whole White Ribbon Ride in November 2010. From Tauranga to Bream Bay. Add to that travel from Napier to get to Tauranga and back home from Bream Bay and you have 3,225 Km's.

You find it all at: http://petewhiteribbon2010.blogspot....e-by-pete.html with pictures, links and a daily recollection. (Sorry, as I have it all there I can not see the reson to add it all here)

I will be back for the 2011 White Ribbon Ride. Hope to see you there!

Enjoy. ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/1864-White-Ribbon-Ride-2010 https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/1129-One-More-Journey-(Fiction) Sat, 17 Oct 2009 03:35:01 GMT I had always wanted to make a difference, be someone who would be remembered for all the right reasons. Someone people spoke about with respect and admiration. At times I felt that I was almost there, that what I had done would make a positive difference in some ones life. But then at other... I had always wanted to make a difference, be someone who would be remembered for all the right reasons. Someone people spoke about with respect and admiration.


At times I felt that I was almost there, that what I had done would make a positive difference in some ones life. But then at other times I would find myself in the gutter, all in shatters and only my survival instincts would keep me going. So often had I wanted to give up, just let go and vanish. But somehow I never allowed this to happen.

When young I realised that what I lacked was a feeling of belonging. So I would move from one thing to another trying to find where I fitted in. But nothing I did, no one I did meet gave me that what I longed for. And now it was too late, now I had hunger for only one last run, that one last journey.

I had always envied the ones who had goals they worked towards and when they achieved them they would sit down and feel complete and satisfied.

There was much I had accomplished in my life. But nothing had ever given me the feeling of fulfilment. The only thing that happened was that as soon as one thing was accomplished I would look for another thing to achieve. Something harder, something that was outside my reach, and then I would go for it.

There was an emptiness that I had never been able to fill. As younger I had believed that it was love that was missing. So I had fallen in love. Many times. But each time had been a disappointed, as it did not work out or give me what I longed for.

Often had I wondered if I was different, if I was not from this earth, if I was some kind of experiment and somewhere someone was monitoring me, studying me, learning from me.

Then I turned to anything extreme. Hang gliding, parachuting, face jumping, rock climbing without equipment, stunt work. I became addicted to adrenalin, but the only thing that I accomplished was broken bones and hospital visits.

When love or danger had failed to fill the emptiness I turned to alcohol and drugs. They helped for short bursts. I would forget the coldness inside and become outward focused. But at the end I gave that up. It had only created new problems. I would scare myself when drunk or wasted, I would be a spectator watching myself do things that was not me. Aggression, brutality, nightmares where I would wake up in places I had no idea where I was or who I was with. And it did not help, only added to the feeling of not belonging.

I then started travelling. For years I wandered aimlessly from place to place, never once returning to where I had been. There was not many places on this earth I did not visit. I wondered if somewhere out there was where I belonged, surely somewhere there would be a place where I would feel, when finally getting there, that this was it. Like in the movies, the coming home. But even there I had failed, and so I came to the conclusion that there was no such place for me.

Perhaps if I helped someone, took care of her and made her life better? Surely that would be the answer? So I tried. I took Melissa under my wings, I nurtured her and gave her all I had. She gave me three children. And for a short while I believed that it might be what I really had been longing for. But even that turned out to be an illusion. It all became a one way street and in the end I had nothing more to give, I became exhausted and had to give it up.

Now I had one more journey inside myself. I would travel it as always with my eyes open, taking it all in, learning and trying to find some pieces that I could add to myself in my quest of filling that emptiness.

But I was running out of time. I had to be ready, be able to learn from it, and therefore I could not leave it too late. I wanted to be awake and watch it all happening. There could be no distractions, nothing was allowed to disturb my total focus. All my journeys I had been watching, studying, inhaling the experience. And this time would be no different, I was still looking for something that had alluded me all my life.

I looked at the reflection of myself in the mirror I had placed against the wall opposite where I sat. Gone was the long blond hair, the white teeth and the healthy skin. The illness had stolen who I had once been and the skinny, bold, toothless man I now could see was someone I did not recognise.

It did not seem real as I was watching in the mirror how the fragile old man lifted the Colt revolver and placed the barrel against the head just above the right ear. While he was watching me I could see his index finger tighten it’s grip and pull the trigger. I could see the hammer hit and…………… ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/1129-One-More-Journey-(Fiction) https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/535-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Mon, 08 Dec 2008 05:49:49 GMT Firstly I need to tell you that I like Panheads and Shovels. Anything after that and I loose the ability to focus. It is now a few years since I sold my last Shovel and I have since been riding speedway and some jappas. Main reason is financial, 7 years ago I became single parent with 4 small boys,... Firstly I need to tell you that I like Panheads and Shovels. Anything after that and I loose the ability to focus. It is now a few years since I sold my last Shovel and I have since been riding speedway and some jappas. Main reason is financial, 7 years ago I became single parent with 4 small boys, so anything that was not needed was sold. Sadly. But reality...

It has been a while since I had a ride on a HD. So when the offer of a 1/2 hour testride on a 2009 came along I grabbed it. Thanks ANZA Motorcycles in Palmerston North!

I looked at the 10 bikes that was up to be tested and I liked to have a go at the Rocker. But sadly it was all booked up. So I managed to book a Classic. All well I thought.

When I turned up and signed in I overheard that the guy who had the Rocker booked was not coming. Quickly I changed my booking. Sweet!



The first thing you notice is that she has a single seat, but there was rear footpegs. I realised that there was a "pull out" small seat at the back. For a skinny/small pillion. Nice!

I was standing and waiting for instructions, but none came, and when all riders started to get the motors running I figured better get my helmet on and join up.

There was a "leader" and a "rear sweeper" from ANZA and 8 bikers with varying capabilities inbetween. This caused some headaches, as suddenly you had someone passing you when you least expected it. And the braking and placing on the road also left something to desire...

As mentioned, I had no idea what changes HD had done to their bikes since 76. But a bike is a bike. And really, so she is. Could not find the kickstart, so I had to settle for a button that had "START" on it. And start she did and settled in to a nice HD thump a thump.

The first thing I noticed was that the footpegs were high up and wide apart. The pegs had small steel pins sticking out (approx 1 1/2" long) towards ground. This soon became annoying as they would scrape in turns. The single seat was very comfy, the controls were good (and I liked the self-cancelling indicators, if they did not, then just press the same one again and done), the handlebars suited me well. And the motor was very nice. Missed some sound thou...

As I was sitting at 140k/h (no rev counter) somewhere in back of my head I remembered that these new HD's have 6 gears (all mine had 4...) and I decided to check if there was one more. And yep, the 6'th gear came in and suddenly I was idling at 140k/h! I took her up to 170k/h for a short stint and she had no problems with that. Felt like 200+ was easily there.

I had been very interested to find out if I had to man handle her in to corners (as some of the rigid long forks I have owned), as she had a long wheel base thanks to the slightly extended forks and added rake (36 degrees). And yes, there was a fraction of that. But if it is a payoff between looks and snappy racing handling, the looks win every time for me.

Her brakes were fine for me. Best I have ever had on a HD.

As we turned back in to where we started I realised that my 30 min was over. Sadly so, I have to admit. I would happily have done a few more hours on her.

So my overall impression?

Positives:
- Nice feel to her. Brakes and motor is more then I need. And that 6'th gear...
- She looks the part. The extra wide 240 backwheel sets her apart.
- Pullback handlebars are comfy.
- Paint and finish is top class. But you expect that from HD.
- I like the indicator controls. Auto off...
- A dedicated solo bike, but has that added little pullout seat just in case...

Negatives:
- Footpegs to far out and too high up. I am 6'2". But I suppose they are high up to get some clearance. Then again if they had been 2" inwards on each side that problem would have been solved! (more then enough space for that) Those pins in the footpegs really annoyed me (and I am sure I made them about 1/2" shorter...)
- Not able to hear motor and no idea what gear I was in. And I could not see anything indicating the gear. More noise would solve that...
- The price has to be one. $33K. Ish...

General:
- I would like her with spoked wheels and a 21" front one. Add to that a wideglide front and about 5" longer and I would love her. And somehow get rid of that gap between the solo seat and the rear guard...
- I have to admit that the riding experience was far better then what I had expected. I am just scared now that when I finally sort myself out so I get a Pan or Shovel I will always compare them to her... ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/535-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/522-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Wed, 26 Nov 2008 08:58:08 GMT *_There is no logic to riding. (Or: Napier – Timaru return on a Honda NV400)_* I have all my life been proud of my logic. It has always been my strongest attribute. When at school I soon realised that my memory had faults, and if it had been a Hard Drive it would have been sent back for a... There is no logic to riding. (Or: Napier – Timaru return on a Honda NV400)

I have all my life been proud of my logic. It has always been my strongest attribute. When at school I soon realised that my memory had faults, and if it had been a Hard Drive it would have been sent back for a warranty replacement straight away. But I sadly did not come with a warranty. So I learnt to rely on my logic to fill the memory gaps.

When all others in my class would learn the mathematic formulas and eagerly implement them at any opportunity, I forgot them as soon as I did see something else I liked (and in a dual sex school there was much I liked…). So when confronted with a problem that needed an answer for me to pass a test, I always needed to understand what it was all about. Then my logic would do the rest.

As part of the problem solving, we were required to present what we did to get the answer. All others would use the mentioned formulas, but I would explain in my own way how I came to the right answer. In the beginning I would often fail the tests. Not because my answers were wrong, but because the teachers did not believe me, they figured that I had cheated and someone else gave me the answers. But as this continued they concluded that nobody would be so stupid that they would try to cheat time and time again using the same method, and so they started to accept my logic, even if it at times only made sense to me.

So you see, I have learnt to rely on my logic and for many years it was all I accepted. My logic became my crutch, what I reverted to when I needed guidance.

As I grew older I also slowly developed a “gut feeling”. But I did not listen to this feeling, as it often would be in contradiction to my brilliant logic.

While the years passed I started noticing that often if I had trusted my gut feeling instead of my logic, the outcome would have been quite different, and often better… As an example; I would now have been married in Thailand to a rich hotel owner who had no brothers or sisters and who’s parents were old. (Don’t ask!)

I have been riding motorbikes since I was 12 years old. There has always been one in my possession. Not always a road bike, but a running bike has always been there for me.

But when I now look at the reasons why I have been riding, I to my surprise find that there has never been any logic to it. And there still is none.

Here: I was to travel from Napier to Timaru for a two days work conference. It was simple: book the plane tickets and fly down one morning, stay one night and fly back the next day. Clean, simple, very little could go wrong. And there were no costs for me. Logical you would say.

But I decided to ride my bike down. 12 hours riding and 4 hours ferry travel one way.

And that is where it all started; My current bike is not completed yet. It is a Yamaha XV750 that I was half way down the customising road with. Still needed much done. But as the decision was made close to two months before the trip I had heaps of time. Too much actually… I kept my self busy completing other projects as I knew I had all that time to get my bike done; I completed my youngest sons dirt bike, I worked on my car, I fixed up another car that had been sitting for some time and sold it, I helped others with their projects, and so on.

Then one day, two weeks before it was time to ride down, I got stuck in. But inside a few days I realised that it would never happen, there was too much to be done and I had no intentions riding something half done. Dilemma; I had told everyone who wanted to listen that I would ride down. And I was really looking forward to the ride. So what now?

My oldest son owns a Honda NV400 that he had crashed 6 months ago. He broke a leg and the bike had a twisted frame. The bone healed, but the bike needed more then to be put in a cast to fix it.

I had already a few months ago picked up a cheap second bike for parts. It had all that I needed. So plan B was borne: After 6 months of “I get that bike sorted tomorrow”, tomorrow had arrived. More specifically, it was now Sunday and I had six days until I needed to be on the road…

I got stuck in that Sunday and then took two days off my real job (that pays for all this) to complete the bike. I spent nights sanding and painting and any spare time swapping bits between the two. Daytime I would source bits I realised I was missing: handbrake and clutch leaver, bulbs, screws and some rubber bungs. And on Friday one day before I needed to be on the road she was completed (well almost, I had taken two shortcuts, but more about them later…)

Time for WOF and REGO. I rode her to the testing station. As I was standing there in the line waiting for my turn, I realised that I had not put a nut on the bolt holding the muffler. So I did quickly run across to “Super Cheap Autos” and spent $7,95 on a pack with four bolts and four nuts, fitted one nut as tight as I could with my fingers and put the rest in my pocket for a rainy day.

Then a chap with an English accent became the first person that proves why logic has nothing to do with bike riding: He was my inspector and wanted to fail me for not having the rear footpegs mounted. He reasoned that as the bike has a twin seat it MUST have two sets of footpegs. I explained that it was my sons and he was on a restricted license, therefore he was not allowed to have a pillion, and the pegs also annoyingly rattled, so we had removed them. I told him that I was travelling to Timaru the next morning with the bike and coming back in to Napier would delay my trip. I soon realised that he had no idea where Te Awanga was, so to his question how much time it would take I stretched the truth a fraction and answered “over one hour”. (I have done Te Awanga – Napier return on a bike in 20 minutes…) I also promised to fit the footpegs straight away. And to his credit he is clearly a decent chap as he passed me, but warned that “next time…” What he did not notice was that I had swapped the frame as the original one was bent… And the footpegs, straight away is a relative term…

Back home I decided that all was fine, and I would do some final work the next day: The muffler bolt and the new nut had gone missing on the way back from the testing station and had now most probably smashed in to a car radiator, so I would fit a new set and make sure they were tightened properly. I had also purchased new oil and a filter. The packrack needed straightening and fitting. Easy, I told my self. I sort that in less then one hour and I be gone long before midday.

At 3pm next day I was finally all packed and ready after the new oil filter was not sealing properly and I had to make a rubber seal; the pack rack was harder to straighten properly than what I had expected and I found that the special hex bolt, that by now was at the police station for fingerprinting, was the only one I had…

But at 3.12pm I texted Shirley in Wellington, who had, without ever meeting me, offered her sofa for me to crash on until I would board the ferry. She is a biker, so there was no logic, just gut feeling…

I rode to Havelock North 10 minutes from my home without any incidents and filled the petrol tank. I then pointed her out from the village and opened the throttle…and suddenly the front wheel locked up. At 70k/h it is not a major, but I can think of more fun things (having your fingernails pulled comes to mind…). Probably as a result of the quality road surface and my skill (read: LUCK!!!) she stopped and apart from the black line stretching some 15 meters behind me you would have had a hard job figuring out that my Guardian Angel was an alert chicky!

I put the bike on the central stand, grabbed the two cans of V I had purchased for later and skulled them (Luckily I had no JD in my pack…)

After some contemplating I decided that who needs front brakes anyhow and disconnected the hose hoping that it would release the solid wheel. And it did. So after 15 minutes, two times trying to piss (I put it down to my prostate as no way would I ever admit that my nerves had got rattled!), and some explaining to my oldest sons mates parents (that just had to come past!) what I was up to, I was off again.

15 k’s down the road the temperature was at red (she is a water-cooled girl) and somewhere in the back of my head the word “logic” was bouncing around and getting louder. I allowed her to cool down and turned back home. But if you were thinking that I was giving up you have clearly never seen me replace a Holden motor and a gearbox alone in the middle of the night without a crane while the city sleeps.

I was back home at 5pm. I parked her and got to work. My ex, who was staying at my place to look after our boys, who all live fulltime with me, just looked at me and left me alone. There are many reasons we are ex’es, and me not accepting defeat was one of her reasons. One of mine was her lack of belief in my ability to always conquer whatever life throws in my way.

You remember the two shortcuts I mentioned earlier? Well, they both came back to bite me. I had used the front wheel from the parts bike as it was still attached to the forks (saves time I reasoned) and also the radiator that was fitted to the frame (saves even more time I reasoned).

At 8pm when I finally got going I calculated that my “saves time” had cost me 5 hours less the one hour I had saved by not swapping the parts in the first place. I was now 8 hours behind schedule. But taken all in to account, it was much better then the option of using logic and taking the car. Or the other option of spending a couple of weeks in hospital if the front wheel had locked at 120k/h in a corner…

I texted Shirley again telling her I was on my way. Her reply: “Sweet, txt me when in Welly”. Did I mention I like bikers?

The sun had started to pull up the blankets for the night. And I quickly realised that the high beam adjustment was far to low. I could have high beam on all the time and nobody would flash their lights. That was the only advantage. The downside was that I often would hit the brakes (remember; front brake working again!) when suddenly a turn would pop up from nowhere. But it was cold and I was focused, so nah. We soldier on. And I did.

I got down to Welly at 12.30AM. Against the wishes of a Pukeko and a Possum that are now in their respective heavens. The Pukeko was a sole warrior, but the Possums clearly have telepathic abilities, as their roadkill mate had sent them a message to avenge him. But they really have to learn new tricks. Doing the freeze is so old. (One of them would have woken up the next day with the mark of a size 13 army boot in his forehead).

The ones of you who have been to Welly would recognise this: Where the motorway starts, so does the rain. I had my leather pants and jacket on and I could see nothing through my sunnies. (Yes I know, but I am an oldtime biker; open face and black leathers!) So I did what I always do; pick a set of red car rear lights and follow. If I am lucky enough they are going where I want to go. The times they have not has become interesting…

I pealed off at a Caltex station close to the city and phoned Shirley (Why text when you can talk???) She told me where she would stand waiting. Opposite a New World Supermarket. “Straight ahead” she said. And there she was waiting at 12.45AM in the rain for a biker she had never met, only emailed a few times and talked to once!

I parked the bike in a small alley next to the 4storey building and she took me in. Yep, you guessed it, she lives at top floor and there is no elevator!

When we got to her studio apartment I was introduced to the owner: A small moggy with a face that indicated she also rides bikes but had forgotten to brake when coming up to a truck. As I have no memory (as indicated in the beginning of this tale) I have no idea what the orange fluffy things name was, but something Egyptian would definetley be purposeful.

The moggy sniffed me once, looked at me and decided that I did not belong there. (I have a dislike for cats. As a result 3 stray cats have moved in to my place totally disregarding my “piss off, I don’t like you!”)

Shirley then showed me where I could dry my gear (amazingly my leather pants were totally dry! After been pelted with water the size of pebbles for 30 minutes! Considering that I have owned them for close to 20 years and done nothing apart from wear them, there is clearly something to learn here! Oh, did I mention that I am proud I can still fit them…).

I am a clumsy man. And I managed to step in to the pussy’s water dish… (my socks are clearly not made by the same crowd who made my pants!) I also crushed my sunnies that some idiot had left on the floor! (But I always travel prepared: I have three pairs. Just in case…)

Luckily as I was sober I did not put my foot in to anything else. We chatted to after 3AM. Shirley has my full admiration. She has more demons to fight then a family of Vampire slayers. Somehow I think that being a biker is what keeps her going. (When I dream I often dream of a country where only bikers are allowed to live! I also have this idea re a Biker only political party. Something like “Biker Strength”, or the “BS Party” for short… )

6.45AM the alarm pulled me from the arms of a Egyptian princess with catlike eyes (anyone know how to put dreams on hold?). After some yummy toast, a cuppa and a hug, I was on my way to the ferry.

$107.00 later I was riding towards where I could enter the ferry. There was a long line of cars and I was planning to sit in the line (Honestly! Would I ever jump a line?) But then the rain got heavy and I passed them all, stopped, flashed my ticket, smiled at the lady in the boot and I was on my way to the ferry.

As I entered the last checkpoint a car just left the chap. I stopped and he took my ticket and then told me: “Watch those guys in that car as they want to smash your head in for jumping the line…” then continued: “It’s not nice to pass the others, people don’t like it”

What was I supposed to say? “I have been naughty, I go back to the last place and start again!” Or perhaps: “What was I thinking! Now I will never get to heaven!” At 7.15AM my brain does not come up with anything fancy, so I told him: “It’s raining, fuck em!!” They never eventuated.

I tied up the bike as instructed. Luckily Shirley had done this before and she gave me a set of tiedowns, as the ones the ferry provided were as useful as a chocolate teapot. (She had also lent me a set of dry riding gloves!)

There were two other bikers on the ferry. While I was strapping the NV400 to the deck, and they had already completed the task, the female was looking at me and then said smiling: “I used to have one of those…” I never managed to figure out if it was an opening or a closing of the doors. As her travelling companion was a very likeable chap I did not try to find them on the ship. But if you are reading this… ;)

Apart from that the crossing was a non-event. There was a bunch of German girls that were all around the place. I was sitting there in my wet leathers and waiting for the trip to be over. I had no problem with them commenting that I am old. I know that I am. I had no problem with them wondering if I had drugs. I knew I had none. But when one of them started wondering about the bulge in my leather pants I had to clarify: “Ich habe keine Socke in dort” Sadly none of them came to confirm.

After the ferry landed it was straight down to Timaru. The road between Picton and Christchurch is a joy to travel on a bike. I have always liked Kaikoura and it was filled with tourists. I decided to stay there a few days on the way back. I also managed to hit a swarm of bees. They do not taste anything like honey…

But Christchurch to Timaru is a bore. Straight roads. No action.

I got to Timaru and realised I had no idea where I was booked in. So I went to the centrum and parked. What has always surprised me in NZ is how dead city centres are. There is a handful of people walking, but that’s it. And Timaru followed the mould.

I found my Motel and two nights and two days was spent on work.

Came Tuesday afternoon. The conference finished at 12 noon. And there is a promise of heaps of rain travelling up from the south. So it was a no-brainer. I needed to be home to take over from my ex by Thursday 4pm. And now it was Tuesday noon. I packed up and headed for Kaikoura.

The bike was running well. After the initial issues the only thing I had to attend was the speedo cable falling out. Just push in and tighten the screw and solved. I had travelled at 120 – 130k/h all the way. OK, so coming from Harley and Triumph background it took a few hours to get used to 5,000-6,000 revs. ( 120k/h in my book is max 3,500 revs!) But clearly she was made to do this and happily kept it up. So once the initial concerns disappeared it was all go. I even found my self taking her up to 8,000 at a few times. (She red-lines at 10,000, but no way was I going there! A V twin doing 10,000 revs. Forget it!!!)

I had managed to stay ahead of the rain. I had just passed Oaro (About 75 k south of Kaikoura) I was sitting on 120K/h. And on a straight (luckily!!!) the backend started to wobble. It got bad and I stopped.

Yep. Flat tyre! I looked but could not find any nails or similar, so I came to the conclusion that it was the heat/valve.

I did some thinking. I could have her on idle and push towards Kaikoura (I was thinking 5 – 10k, it was 65…). I could do the same and go back. Or I could try to get a lift and get one of those “fix the puncture” spray cans.

Option 3 was the logical decision (see, logic still plays a part…)

I pushed the bike behind some bushes so it could not be seen from the road. I took my helmet (always have your helmet if you want a lift!! You be surprised how many people are bikers at heart!!) and walked out on the road deciding to hitch hike to Kaikoura (remember that I was thinking I was close…)

Pig hunter/sheep farmer Paul was the first one to pass and stop his car. He asked what was up. I explained and he told me that it was approx 45 min to Kaikoura and I be better to go back to Oaro that I had passed 10 minutes ago. (He had just been to the petrol station there to get some ciggies and did see me go past). I say thanks and cross the road to hitch hike in the other diredtion.

Paul drives up the road and turns round, comes back and stops. He says: “I have a weak spot for a biker in distress”. Turns out that he had a loved sporty a few years earlier before kids and child support changed his life. We talk bikes while he takes me to Oaro. There I try to buy that magic spray. But they have none!

The owner, John, asks me to bring the wheel and he will sort it! So Paul takes me back, I take the wheel off (The NV has a shaft drive. I love them!!!) and he offers to take me back again and be there until I am sorted! I have a new friend!

John and I see that there is a 2 ½ inch split in the tyre and so he takes it off the rim. Inside is a totally shredded tube. We discuss the options. He has no 18” tyres, but a 17” tube. So we decide that he will try to fix the split as good as possible and then fit the 17” tube. When all is done he charges me $40 for the lot!! I like him too!!

Back at the bike I fit the wheel. Paul and I have discussed more bikes and we realise that we might know same people; He is close to the Jokers SC from Ashburton that are holding their annual show the following weekend. Small world!

We shake hands, I give Paul my details and I ask him to come for a visit when in HB.

The tyre is no good for normal speeds, so I settle for riding at 60 – 70k/h. I stop now and then to check, but the tyre holds up well.

I get to Kaikoura and I have my plan all sorted: I stay two nights, Thursday when my salary goes in to my account I buy a new tyre and then I be home in HB Thursday afternoon. Painless and all happy!

I am looking forward to that. Heaps of tourists, places to sit and watch the world go past. And who knows, perhaps…

Then I get a text from my ex…

“Fuck U need 2 be home 2moro I need 2 work” Another reason why she is my ex. Lack of compassion. I ring her and try to reason, I tell her that I need a tyre, that I don’t have the money and that the plan was that I was to be back Thursday afternoon… I get slammed, told I don’t care about anyone and that “she always knew that I was useless on fixing bikes…” I hang up while she strangles my Kaikoura plan and so I decide to travel to Picton that night.

I have been told that the last ferry goes at 10pm. It is now 9pm. Even if I had a good tyre it would have been a lost cause.

So I travel at 60k/h to Picton planning painful ways to kill her slowly…

I arrive at 11.30PM. I ride down to where vehicles go on the ferry as there is a ferry being loaded. (I have an inborn disregard for signs saying “Do not enter!”) I chat to a few people asking if I can add my bike and me, but they are all truckies and have no say.

Then at last a little bit of luck my way: I am pointed towards a chap in blue T-shirt. Apparently he has some knowledge. Turns out that Russell is working in the harbour and his job is to load trailers on the ferry.

“Sorry” he says. “You have a shit show getting on this one. But at 2AM Monte Stello will depart and you might be able to get on that one. I should not tell you this, but if you go and see Bill at the “Straight Shipping” office he might let you get on. He is normally quite relaxed.”

So I ride to the office. I walk in to see Bill. I already have a sob story ready re my bitch of ex and my poor kids alone at home.

“Hi” I say. “I have a dilemma….”
“You want to get across?” Bill asks.
“Yes” I say.
“Done” he says.

I really want to tell him my story as it is a good one. But he is too busy. He charges me $69.00 and that includes free food and a cabin. I will never travel across any other way again!!!

I sit outside his office watching the trucks come and go and I chat to a driver who tells me he spends two weeks of the month away from home. He loves his wife and their two girls, who love to sleep in the bed while he is away. He is also a good one to tell my sob story to and he wonders how a mother could leave her children alone at their dad’s home just because he can not get there in time…

Shirley sends me a text asking if I need a place for the night. Time of arrival is un-important. I reply telling her re my plan, and she tells me to have a sleep.

I load the bike at 1.30AM and I am the only non-truckie. I go to my cabin, #600, where I find a simple set-up with two single beds and a small toilet/shower.

There is a knock on my door at 5.15AM. I put my gear on and walk in to the “restaurant”. A young chap asks me if I want a cooked brekkie. I say yes and 5 min later I am presented with 2 fried eggs, 2 sausages, bean on toast and some bacon. OK, so it would never win any competitions. But it's free and will make a nice shit!

While the ferry is finalising it’s reversing in to the harbour we are told we can go to our vehicles. I have a chat with a Murray who is working in the loading deck, and he tells me that they often have bikes on-board. Only when they transport dangerous goods will you be left ashore.

I follow a truck out from the area and as soon as I hit the motorway I am back to 70k/h.

12.30PM I arrive at my home.

There is no logic to travels like this. But logic has nothing to do with it. My memory is crap, but I can remember all bike travels I have ever made. And this one is up there. If I had taken the plane I would by now have forgotten the trip.

When we are old and sit in that rocking chair on the porch, the only thing we will have are memories. How sad if there is nothing to remember.

Start building memories. Perhaps that is the logic in all this?? ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/522-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/487-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Fri, 29 Aug 2008 12:59:54 GMT A few weekends ago a young chap came around with his 2-stroke bike as his knowledge was not enough to sort out some of the stuff. I liked to be able to help. And he seemend very pleased with what I was able to contribute. I did nothing that he would not have been able to do himself. A very... A few weekends ago a young chap came around with his 2-stroke bike as his knowledge was not enough to sort out some of the stuff. I liked to be able to help. And he seemend very pleased with what I was able to contribute.

I did nothing that he would not have been able to do himself. A very intelligent chap. I recon it was more to have someone there who had done it before and was not scared to open a motor. Next time he will be able to do it himself. But if not, then I be happy to help again.

Where this is going is the knowledge we have and we are able to hand down. We often think that what we know is not that much. But imagine if you, when you were young, would have had someone with the knowledge you have now, that would have been there for you.

OK, so some of us had someone. But not all of us. I had nobody, I had to learn by my own mistakes.

When I am with my boys and I teach them something, and then a little later I hear them copying what I said, boy am I proud! Proud that they trust me so much that they take what I say as gospel. But it also makes me realise the responsibility I have. To only tell them things that I know are right. Not opinions or my views.

A little time ago one of my boys asked when I would die. I told them that if I ever got sick and there was no way out, then I would ride off a high cliff with my bike. I said that more as a joke (even if I am serious, if I get a disease that can not be cured and I am given a time, when I get to a stage that living is no fun, then I will ride over a cliff) but I misjudged the way they took it. We have now been talking about it again and I have promised to be around untl they have enough of me. But it just goes to show how the young ones take in what you say.

So back to the young chap and his 2-stroke. I have promised to true up his frontwheel, or even to re-spoke it if need be. Why? Because he wants to learn and I have the knowledge.

What a nice feeling, to have some knowledge you can pass on. ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/487-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/472-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Sun, 13 Jul 2008 01:05:35 GMT I am sitting here looking at "The List". If you have no idea what I am on about, then you are one of the blessed ones. The rest of us mortals have one somewhere. On the puter, typed up and in the drawer, written in to the diary. Or as the motivational speakers will tell you to do: On the wall in big letters so you can see it and focus on the tasks. It then apperently becomes part of your subconcious and you will automatically get the things done.

More about that later. But I have for many years had a list. When I started my own business many years ago it became a must to be able to plan the day and the weeks. I had a A4 diary with a page for each day where all that needed to be done was written. It helped to compensate for my crappy memory. I also used to prioritise all that was there. From AAA's to D's. Where D's were things I wanted to do, but were not urgent or even important. I then would reward my self. When I had completed 5 of the most urgent ones I could pick one of the D's as a reward. It did work well.

When my marriage fell apart I did a List on a spreadsheet on the puter. It had all and everything that needed to be done. Then when the small ones were in bed and it got quiet and I found my self sitting down contemplating the road my life had taken and I would feel a sadness come over me, I would get up, check the List for a task that would not take more then 1/2 hour, that was hands on and that I when it was done could see a result. It could be hanging up pictures, moving furniture, reparing something that had been broken and annoying for a while etc. I then got stuck in and inside 1/2 hour I could see something I was proud of, something I had created with my hands. I figured that to sit down feeling sorry for my self was a waste of energy when I could use the same energy to do something that would make mee feel proud of my self. In the beginning I really had to grab my self by the collar to get started. But after a while it became second nature and my sadness over where it all had gone started to fade. I was not spending time thinking about it. It was nothing I could affect at this stage anymore anyhow. I would say that "The List" made a big difference in how fast I got back on track then.

That is now a few years ago. But I have always had a list. Now the List serves a different purpose. I now have a OK income, things are running smoothly (well, sort of...) and now the list is filled with things I want to do. Very few "have to do's" anymore. And it has heaps of bike related stuff. Mainly fix this or change that. Also the customising ones. Stuff that does not have to be done ASAP. Stuff that nobody suffers from if not done. And so they are left undone. Sadly.

So I am today taking a leaf out of the motivational speakers book. I am putting together a list with the stuff I really would like to get done. And I am pinning it on the wall. In 3 places in my home. So I can see it all the time. First thing I see when I wake up. Last thing I see when turning off the light.

And will this work? I think so. I believe in "The List". It has done wonders for me in the past and I don't think it will fail now either.

Top of the list is 2 things I will get started with:
- Get my oldest boys NV400 back on the road.
- Fix up that small 90cc for my youngest one.

Even writing about it on here gets me enthusiastic.

I also have an entry there stating: - No more projects before all on here are done...Sometimes I just crack my self up.

Lets see what happens... ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/472-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/467-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Tue, 01 Jul 2008 08:46:28 GMT NOTE: I would love your comments on my fiction writing. Anything will do. *_Dreaming_* The naked light bulb had a strong pull. He knew he had to fly towards it. And then circle it. Around and around, until he got dizzy and disoriented. And then he would land somewhere and just sit there... NOTE: I would love your comments on my fiction writing. Anything will do.

Dreaming

The naked light bulb had a strong pull. He knew he had to fly towards it. And then circle it. Around and around, until he got dizzy and disoriented. And then he would land somewhere and just sit there feeling the excitement that the flight had caused.
He also knew that as soon as his head was clear again, he would be back up there doing the dance with the other moths. He knew that the bizarre ritual had no meaning. But it did not really worry him. This was what he did while he was awake and it was dark outside.

He had learnt not to get too close, as the heat from the bulb would easily damage his brittle wings. He also had to watch out for nightly predators, who were drawn to the same light, as they knew that it was a place to find easy prey. But he had become good at keeping an eye out for them. And strangely enough, he had never been even close to become some ones night snack. Every night some of the others were caught. But the moth felt that he was in control.

He had never wanted to be anything but a moth. His life was complete. He had food and drink all around him. And there was the dance.

The moth’s head had cleared and he flew back up to the light. Around and around. But something started to change. The brightness of the light started to fade. The darkness around him changed. First the blackness was replaced with a dark grey shade that did not have the power to blanket out all the contours around. Then there was more light and colours started to emerge.

He knew what this meant. The morning was close. Soon the big bright light would rise from behind the shed. The really big and hot light. The one that was so bright that he could not stand it.

He started to make his way in to some of the shadows that were still there for him. He needed to find a place where he could sleep away the time of the big hot light. And then it would once more be time.

He landed inside the small gap between the roof and the wall of the shed. This was a good place. He would be safe here. And he could sleep away the light.

Steven woke up from the sun shining on his face. This would be a hot day. He stretched and looked around. All was the way he had left it last night. His clothes were on the chair by the bed, his shoes by the door and his wallet on the night table. But that was the way he expected it to be. It always was. Nothing changed while he was asleep. And why should it? The problem was not with the room or what was in it. The problem was in his head.

He had once again had the same dream. The dream he had every night. The dream he had dreamt as long as he could remember. It had not worried him before. He liked the dream. It was calming. But lately he had started to wonder if all was Ok with him. It had got to a stage where he sometimes did not want to have dreams. But it was never in his control. Dreams never are.

But, he thought, no time to worry about it now, he had a busy day planned. He was looking to buy a new house and he had already found some suitable ones in the papers, so today he was to visit them all to have a look.

After a shower, a breakfast and a look in toady’s paper, to see if there were any new prospective houses, he went to his car and set to do his task as planned.

Steve’s day went fast. He had time to look at seven houses before coming back home just before the sun started to settle at the horizon. There had been some possible ones, one in particular, that had a kidney shaped swimming pool and one of those driveways with two entries that he had always wanted. He would consider the options tomorrow.

He had picked up all the local Real Estate Magazines and decided to lie on the bed and study them. But his mind was not on the houses. It was on the dream. He knew, that as soon as he closed his eyes and he fell asleep, he would once again dream that he was a moth. A moth that spent every night flying around a dirty 45-Watt light bulb outside an old shed. The dream did not scare him. It was boring. But also settling. He had never had a nightmare in his whole life. He functioned well, and he was successful. In fact so successful, that at 31 years old, he had been able to retire and do what he wanted to.

Steven’s eyes started to close and he knew he was falling asleep.

The moth woke up by the change in the temperature that happens when the sun settles behind the horizon. It was not dark enough outside yet, so he decided to stay where he was for a little bit longer.

He had once again had the same dream. As long as he could remember he had been dreaming that he was this creature that did spend its time awake under the heat of the big light. The dream fascinated him. But he did not understand it. There were so many strange things in the dream. But he always enjoyed the dream.

But now the influence of the big light had disappeared and he had more important things to do. There was some flying to do. He moved out from his small space and he could see the light from the light bulb. And there was already others there flying around and around. No time to waste… ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/467-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/464-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Mon, 23 Jun 2008 09:38:10 GMT Have found a donor bike for my oldest sons crashed NV400. I need a frame (his is bent after he decided to ride in to a roundabout in front of a car...), handlebars, instruments, straight tank, muffler and some other ods and sods. The one I have found is spray bomb painted matt black and out of the... Have found a donor bike for my oldest sons crashed NV400. I need a frame (his is bent after he decided to ride in to a roundabout in front of a car...), handlebars, instruments, straight tank, muffler and some other ods and sods. The one I have found is spray bomb painted matt black and out of the system. But runs and is straight. So this coming w/e I will travel to pick her up. 5 hours one way. The things you do for your kids. Have told him that this is the last time... right! So then I will assemble, get a new WOF and update the papers with the "new" frame details. After that strip and get painted decently. And then he can have it. (After I have had time to give her a good test ride...)

But as I was looking on TM I also "found a bargain"... a 90cc dirtbike for one of my kids. Needs some work. But price was too good to let go. So will pick that one up too. It's "on the road". Well sort of. Just adds 3 hours to my travels... So I will now add that one to the other ones waiting for me to get them together. At last count I had 12 in my workshops waiting patiently. (One a PW 50 that I grabbed last w/e when travelling to PN to have look at some car part. Was too good a deal to let slip...) But as one of my mates always says: "You can't rush these things, they take the time they need". And with a house lacking a female we can do these things and nobody is there to complain. We also leave the toilet seat up permanently. On all 3 toilets.

I should really put some of the projects together and sell off as that is always the reason I get them. To put together, ride for a short while to make sure all works well, then do a final tidy up and sell of. All the small bikes I sell of are always in better condition when I finally sell them then how we use them. And after I have done the final tidy up they normally look really nice. And I get attached to them. I find my self looking at a 125cc dirtbike and thinking: "She is a really nice bike actually. I don't want to sell her!!" My oldest has now sussed out what goes on inside my head at those moments and he confronts me with: "Dad! You love big custom bikes. This is just a small jap bike. For gods sake, imagine what your old mates would say if they knew you are sitting here watching a small jap bike and drinking a beer!" And that tends to wake me up. But it still always hurts when the bike is loaded up on a trailer and I know that is the last I see of her. Still, there is always another one needing my attention... ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/464-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/458-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Wed, 11 Jun 2008 12:23:33 GMT The weekend gone (6 - 8 June 2008) was the Twin Club MC Custom Bike Show in Norrtalje in Sweden. http://www.custombikeshow.se/ I used to go there in the late 70's and the 80's. In fact the whole Scandinavian summer was spent travelling to different shows and bike parties each w/e. There was never any aggro, patches of all sorts happily mingled and no bikes were stolen or damaged. I understand that it is still the same over there. And yes, non-custom and jap bikes were ok too. A biker is a biker no matter what you ride. Sure, it was all focused on custom bikes, but all were welcome.

The closest I have ever come to all that here in NZ was the Anglo American MC's Easter Memorial run's. The Magog MC's bi-annual shows were not bad. But the focus there was the show. Same with the Auckland shows. Got a fraction $$ focused. But that was all in end of 80's beginning of 90's.Then other things came in the way and I stopped going to them.

Ever since Easy Rider came out I have wanted to build custom bikes. Started by modifying some old Jawas. Then Triumphs. Then HD's. Even if I have not done much of that lately, the bug is still there. I find my self planning a bike, dreaming up innovative ideas how to modify and customise. But sadly that is as far as it has got. Sure, I have always kept a bike or two available and had a project on two on the go. But the full on custom job has not been happening. The reasons are the normal restrains: Focus has moved. Kids, business and marriage.

Well, the business is gone. And so is the wife. I do have the kids with me fulltime. But they are growing and do not need me to hold their hands all the time. So slowly I am getting the urge again. Have even found my self a project. But I tend to work in bursts. So she has after a strong start been sitting for a while again. But reading re the 2008 TC show gave me some new energy.

Right, that's it!!! I have just promised my self to have a custom on the road for the coming summer!!

Hmmm... life takes you in circles. ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/458-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/441-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Thu, 22 May 2008 14:10:37 GMT 23/5 -08

Please note: I would love comments on my fiction writing. Anything will do.

My 21'st

As I was watching his coffin being lowered down in to the grave, the raindrops were gathering on the lid. First they were individual small beauty spots, but as more and more fell; they started to cover the flat areas and then began to dribble down the sides like they were trying to pull the wooden box down. But it was all good, where he was going he would need all the cooling he could get.

Even in his death he ignored me. It was my 21’st and he had to take the centre stage. But it did not really make a fucken difference. Nobody had expected me to live to 21 so there was no party planned. It was not something worth celebrating.

That I was still alive was not as a result of me not trying. And I might still make it, I was born at 10.32pm and it was only 11am. I turned around and started to make my way past the crowd. Eyes were focusing on me, but I did not really give a shit. It had been a mistake to come here. The story of my life. It was all a big fucken mistake. He had made sure I knew that, and he had taken great pleasure in telling me so whenever he had the chance. I had found out early that I had not been wanted. That I was the result of a drunken fuck in the backseat of a car.

But I had wanted to come. To see him dead, buried, gone. It was supposed to give me closure. Yeah right.

My fix had started to wear off and I knew I soon would have to find the next one. Before I started shaking and sweating. Before I became even more of an asshole.

As I walked between the graves I was reading the names. They had all meant something to someone. Enough to be given a stone with their name on. Lucky bastards.

I stopped. ‘Steven “Wonderboy” O’Dowd, gone but not forgotten, 21 05 2006’ it said. So this is where you went. ‘Missed by dad, mum, John and Ellie’. Right. What a crock of shit. They kicked him out. And now they fucken miss him.

I could see her again. She was trying to hide behind a tree. But I had a long time ago given up trying to catch her. She could not be caught. She always knew where I was and stayed a distance away. “Fuck off you bitch” I screamed to her. But as I was the only one that could see her it did not help. “You can fuck off too,” I said to the ones at the graveyard looking at me.

Shit, I really needed that fix. But I had no money. And I did owe my dealer too much for him to give any more without cash. So there was only one thing to do. There is always a way if you are desperate.

I stood at the corner, waiting. Normally it did not take long, and soon a car stopped. Brilliant, the bank was open. He was fat, had stubble and needed to be put out of his misery. But that would have to wait. I walked up to the side window. “Hi, you looking for some action?” I asked. What was he supposed to say? “No, I was hoping you would wash my windscreen…”

He smiled a toothless smile and I opened the door and jumped in. “Drive around the next corner” I ordered. As we did just that I said, “Now drive behind that warehouse.” He followed my instructions and parked out of sight.
“40 dollars hand, 80 dollars face, I don’t do others” I stated. He counted out four 20 dollar notes and opened his zip.

I pulled down his boxers with pictures of Spongebob on them and found his cock. It was an ugly fat thing that smelled like old cheddar. Just my fucken luck! But I needed that fix and soon.

As he dropped me off where he found me I used 3 dollars on a coke to get rid of the salty taste in my mouth. Two more and I be all set.

It was 3pm when I found Frank. Shit, how do you get away with looking like that and not being put in jail for it? He had a grey Stetson, cowboy boots and a brown leather jacket with tassels. With his grey goatee and long hair the only things missing were a six shooter and a horse. What a dork. But I needed him. Much more then he needed me.

I swapped my dollars for a small plastic bag with a little amount of white powder in. Enough to take me away. To where I was free from all this shit.

As I hurried to the basement I could again see her. She was in front of me. But I did not care, she was not real, but the smack was.

The spoon was black from being heated over a candle too many times. But once more would not hurt. As the powder was melting I added some saliva to make it more fluid, I then sucked it up in the syringe. There was enough to give me wings. To make me fly. And as long as they had not mixed in too much washing powder I might still make it. It should really be my time, I had no friends left.

I slapped my arm and searched for a vein, but it was getting harder and harder to find one that had not collapsed. I put the needle against my skin and pushed. It was not an easy job as the sharpness had gone long time ago. But I did not care about the sudden push when my skin at last gave up the struggle or the bleeding.

As soon as the needle hit my vein I pumped the fluid in. Almost straight away I felt better. My wings were growing and she was coming closer. I could see that she already had her wings out. As my reality started to change and I felt the calmness settle I was hoping that maybe this was the time. I could lie next to Wonderboy one last time. Perhaps I was to get a stone with my name on, at last be someone who mattered... ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/441-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/440-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Thu, 22 May 2008 14:06:21 GMT 23/5 -08 Wow.... Just had a look and found that 143 ppl had looked at my blog. And that was before there was anything in it. If I can influence 143 ppl without saying anything, imagine what I can do when I actually have something to say!!! Right, this is my blog. So I can do anything I... 23/5 -08

Wow....

Just had a look and found that 143 ppl had looked at my blog. And that was before there was anything in it.

If I can influence 143 ppl without saying anything, imagine what I can do when I actually have something to say!!!

Right, this is my blog. So I can do anything I want here...

I do some writing. Not all bikie related. But...

So I will enter something here for you to read. Fell free to post your comment. Positive or negative. Anything wil do.

(Hey, this is quite cool...) ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/440-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/439-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life Thu, 22 May 2008 13:49:57 GMT 23/5 -08 Right. At some time I have cleraly started this blogging. I have entered nothing. Good. That means I have said nothing I will regret. 23/5 -08

Right.

At some time I have cleraly started this blogging.

I have entered nothing.

Good. That means I have said nothing I will regret.

So, as the past is something I can do SFA about, lets start with today.

As this is a bikie blog I clearly need to have a bikie connection here. Sadly I have not been riding any bikes today.

Hang on. It is now 1.19am. I just go out and start a bike and have a ride...

Right. 1.40am. Done. Took the first one that was in the garage. My youngest ones yellow thingy. Think it is a 80cc something (there is a thread re it here...) Did a lap round the section in the dark. Wet and now I am all dirty. Lucky I have no wife that will complain...

So, bike blogging. Hmmm... Have 1/2 doz bikes half done. Need to sort them out.

Oh yeah... I have a dream: To win the Australasian Custom Bike Building Competition and be the Australasian rep in the World Comp held in USA. Last year a Swedish guy won it all. I recon I can do better...

Perhaps aim for 2010?? I have this vision of a bike made with glass frame and compressor adjusted suspension, no sidestand needed, press button and changes shape from city bike to long road eater.. and more. But can't tell U all my stuff...

What else? Hmmm... Oldest son today got his first tattoo. SWEET!! A really neat one that captures his heritage from me and his mum. Now I want another one...

Sleep well ]]> Conquiztador https://www.kiwibiker.co.nz/forums/entry.php/439-Selected-ponderings-from-my-life