Cats & trains

[HenryDorsetCase]

when we were like 12, 13, 14 my best mates parents had a smallholding outside the small town we lived in. We took over the front paddock and had this home made go kart that we'd go round and round in. later it was our motorbikes till we could ride them on the road (age 15) in various stages of illegality. The term grom wrenching doesnt cover it. Say what you like, Suzuki TS 125s and 185's were tough. one of our mates had a "Big" bike: A Honda XL250 motosport a wee bit later we were all so jellybags.

[pete376403]

When I was about 12 or so, (so nearly 50 years ago) me and a mate (same age) would catch the 6am or thereabouts unit to Wellington, then the railcar to Levin for a day the motor races, and back afterwards, getting home about 8pm. No adult supervision of course. Probably spent less than 10 - 15 shillings for the whole day.

That wasn't considered anything too special back then.

[mashman]

We lived in a cul-de-sac of about 5 houses with tonnes of kids.
We had a 6ft snooker table on a picnic table in a spare room that had a dart board on the door and was perforated from years of pissed people and kids learning how to play. The train set was often up under the table and around the room. The scalextric was in my room and when we used to leap around bits of plaster used to drop from the ceiling in the kitchen and mum would get pissed. Dad wouldn't be too happy either if the Beeza was in bits in the kitchen. The CB radio was always a great way to wind down for the evening and the weekends came quickly. A weekend full of numerous possibilities.

Was it to be the cricket pitch or crown bowling green over the back wall of my mates place across the road. Mainly cricket in the nets with bruised shins and the bigger boys hammering balls in like missiles. Would we pass the nets and head for the fence of the school over the back wall of another mate across the road, climb it (musta been about 30 feet) and on to the roof before lowering ourselves into the gym through the window that was never locked to vault the horse or beat the shit out of each other on the mats. Would we head to the bottom of the road with a ball or a racket and cross the main road to play football on the hockey pitch. If we got lucky the big boys and some of the older fellas from the local football club would be playing on the grass pitch and they'd let us join in, earning more bruises and learning how to play a physical game. On the odd occassion we'd move further down the field to the rugby posts and show our prowess at getting the ball under the bar, ha. Or we could do the long jump, well short jump or practice judo in the sand. When Wimbledon was on we'd head for the tennis court between the rugby and football pitch typing a piece of orange twine from fence to fence and accusing each others shots of going under and not over. On the shit days we'd head for the football pitch and hang a right into the abandoned water works or the bus depot and get into all sorts of dangerous situations, be they riding cars 20ft above the floor across vast warehouses, or perhaps sliding down the ventilation shoots on to the top of a water tank into the depths of a darkness that we never fully explored as it was more exciting to never know what was down there. Climbing across the semi concrete holed corrugated roof of the bus station was always an adventure and then dropping into the depot and opening the huge corrugated steel doors to let the hoards in. The bottom of the road was and absolute adventure land for getting cuts and bruises, be it whackin yer thumb banging nails into trees to make the higher branches accessible, or falling off the wall and through the barb wire, or dropping down off the water works roof and almost breaking your ankles if you fucked it up.

At the top of the road we had the graveyard. To this day it's still the biggest I've ever seen. Accessed via bars that the older boys had bent as there was barbed wire and some fucked up thick grease shit that if you got it on yer clothes mum was gonna kill ya. We used to source bits of wood, grab a hacksaw and cut out skateboard decks and catapults to ride the hill down fro the Cemo. My mates sister used to do hand stands until she smashed her face open one day. She was fuckin hot. The graves were littered with slate and multi coloured stones and we had sliced heads and large bruises from the bigger boys and their black widow catapults v's out knicker elastic y shaped efforts that we had cut out. Every now and then a shopping trolley would appear in the street and we'd chop it up and my mates dad would weld the front wheels and we'd ride the hill in total panic at the lack of control. We'd climb the old trees and scale the church when playing hide and seek or we'd lose our cars or soldiers in the mound of dirt that was used for filling in the graves. Every now and then Ernie would come flying out of his office, cursing and wailing that he was gonna kill us. We'd roar with laughter and utter fear and flee for our lives screaming "Ernie the fastest milkman in the west" and every now and then the ground keeper of the cricket pitch would loose his jack russell on us for setting off the beer kegs trying to get a drink. We'd slide off the ventilation shaft of the small electricity building that served the TV ariel and iffen we leant too far forwards we'd land face first with that awkward ugh sound that ya made when winding yerself. We'd time each other around the 2/3 mile course through the grave yard and on occasion we'd visit the library at the top.

Going further afield (about 3 miles, or 9p on any number of buses) we had the prom and on stormy days we'd head down there on our bikes and get soaked by the waves coming over the wall. All along knowing that we'd end up at my grans house naked under a towel eating chocolate cake or a kit kat until out clothes were dry. There was no better time to go to the spade (as in cards) shaped open air pool as it was nearly empty and never felt quite as cold as it did on sunny days. We'd get summer passes and spend nearly every day down there. You never took any good shoes though as there were some bastards that would knick 'em. However you could buy them back (or upgrade then) at the arcades down the road iffen you knew who to speak to. The arcade was a great place to earn some money. Just wandering around watching the machines, learning the reels and helping people out when the jackpot was there for 10p, sometimes 20p. Watching the bigger boys emptying the phone boxes opened up an entirely new revenue stream and you could usually make enough cash to buy some trendy clothes from thems that acquire stuff.

Come conquer time it was time to grab the away day ticket. 30p to ride the buses all day. We'd grab my mums shopping trolly and head off 20 or so miles and wander down the lanes to the private land with rows and rows of conquer trees to fall out of. Jesus what a haul, a whole season in a day and a few return legs to sell conquers to those who didn't know where to look. Fark there was so much to do, so many places to go, so many people to go with and so little worry that everyone in the street had their doors unlocked and depending on where the kids were meeting, or where most had gone at the start of the day, houses bristled with life and noise on a scale you only find at birthday party's.

Do I miss those days? With a passion I cannot explain. Ahhhhhhhhh. Cheers for the flashback.

[Big Dave]

I went the full Gomaz Adams on my train set.






How many of these?

http://www.retrocrush.com/archive2/cooltoys/

[Motu]

When I was about 12 or so, (so nearly 50 years ago) me and a mate (same age) would catch the 6am or thereabouts unit to Wellington, then the railcar to Levin for a day the motor races, and back afterwards, getting home about 8pm. No adult supervision of course. Probably spent less than 10 - 15 shillings for the whole day.

That wasn't considered anything too special back then.

On saturday night my brother and I would walk to stock cars at Waikaraka Park, at least 10km - Mum would give us entry money and enough for chips and a coke. We'd get home just before midnight. 13 and 14 year old kids walking dodgy industrial areas of Auckland on a saturday night - no problems. When my brother got his license we could go to speedway and Pukekohe and every MX race we could.

I didn't have any exotic Uncles or Aunties who would turn up unannounced loaded with goodies - but did have a grandfather who turned up with a beast he'd just slaughtered in the back of his Mini. This was before anyone had freezers, and my auntie sent him packing with a flea in his ear. He also turned up with a kuri for the boys once....my father wasn't happy. The dog ran away overnight....yeah right.

[ellipsis]

...sounding very much like an older blokes thread...yeehaaa...over half of our under 7 stone rugby team and probably more than that would get taken out to Templeton Speedway, now Ronnie Moore Stadium, on the odd saturday night after a good game, it was like a trip to mars from Lyttelton, all of us in a metallic green Ford Custom 300, by a local chap involved big time in our rugby. Hot dogs and fantas on him while we watched Ole Olson and Barry Briggs and Ronnie and Ivan and the rest battle on the cinders...lucky stuff...that bloke who took us is still alive and smiling I hear...

[Brian d marge]

my favourite was my Ferrari 1960 330 tr and the Brabbam scaletrix

not much to say about west ham and Belfast , in the early 70s ,,,pretty shit really

later in NZ , pushing mums landcrab past the bedroom window at 5 in the morning to " go for a hoon "

missing a corner and stuffing a fair amount of grass up the radiator ....

Fire, now that was fun,,,,,

jubilee,, my nan and her mum, west ham

Stephen

[Grumph]

Easter for me was always one of the year highlights through the late 50's. The old man was chief lapscorer at Cust so that weekend was always brilliant. Told to go and wander so the days were spent walking from the start to the esses to the sunken bridge watching, listening and smelling the racing...and getting shouted at by Ray Shearman...
Saturday night after practise, Jack Banks who lived next door to us and looked after Tommy McCleary's bikes would always lift the heads and check things out....then fire the bikes!! One year when they'd had trouble the fireup came at about 1AM....the old man was not pleased and shouted out the bedroom window that McCleary was on minus one lap at the start....
Never any problems with the bunch of kids wandering round the circuit....todays youth would find something to set fire to I'm sure...

[Grubber]

Oh my god1 i used to frequent Ruapuna Park Speedway place in my early days with my 2 older brothers. Ivan Major was my hero in those days. World champ in all!
Used to go up nearly every 2nd Saturday for a look. Hotdgos old style and yea the Fanta was always good.
At 13 or so i was driving tractors with large implements all over the farm. Big no no these days.
Yes these were simple days, with no worries to burden ones happy times. Always food on the table and always a laugh to be had.

[Banditbandit]

And most of us who did, mourn the loss of it too. We'd like to know who to blame...

Blame the bastardsd who voted for the neo-Liberals and their fucked economic policies - both National and Labour ..

[PrincessBandit]

Ah what a cool thread. Most of my childhood was spent in 70's Papakura with a brief foray to Thames. Milk was 4cents a pint (I still have a glass milk bottle and cream bottle in the vain hope they might come back one day...); Dad was the only driver in our family and would make sure that the car had petrol on Friday in case we needed to go anywhere on the weekend; us kids all shared bedrooms; we had a 12" black and white tv on which the damned picture kept rolling (it had a knob on the side to try to keep it steady); going into town meant walking most of the time; Farmers Trading Company allowed mum to bring home 3 dresses for me to try on (I was only getting one) and she was trusted to return them and pay for the one chosen; there wasn't a lot of money in the house but mum made sure all us kids had gymnastics, dancing and music lessons rather than all the latest toys (but we had tons of fun creating our own games and toys). Ahhh. While I wouldn't exactly say I'd want to go back to "New Zealand being shut on the weekends and public holidays" there was a lot of simple pleasures to be appreciated back then.
Today, with reference to the OP, our cat's favourite place is down in the man cave with Balu watching his model trains.

[Road kill]

Yeah I do remember all that stuff,but it was always somebody else's and it was always somebody else enjoying it,,family type people.

I never had a family after about 7 years old an the people I did live with couldn't of cared less where or what I was doing,,,and not in the easy living trusting days kind of way,they really didn't give a damn.

So I went fishing and spent plenty of time dreaming of the day I'd get a bike or a car an blow the whole place,never to be seen again.

Today I still go fishing,don't have much time for people,and keep "my family" very close.

Now days "those people" have been heard to ask why I never vist or pick up the phone,,even though they've never bothered themselves.

When I hear that I go back to being a 7 year old and often ask "myself" what "their" problem is,or have they always just been that blind to the effects of their own actions.

Threads like this tend to do the same thing,,not in the above a bad way,,just the memories.

I caught some fine fish.

[PrincessBandit]

I'm sure you are not alone in not having the idyllic childhood memories that some of us have, and there are plenty of kids today who still experience the type of childhood you describe. At least you have developed a sense of self preservation and knowing what's important to you despite what others do or don't do. You are also able to use your own life experience to break that cycle for your next generation.

[Banditbandit]

Yeah I do remember all that stuff,but it was always somebody else's and it was always somebody else enjoying it,,family type people.

I never had a family after about 7 years old an the people I did live with couldn't of cared less where or what I was doing,,,and not in the easy living trusting days kind of way,they really didn't give a damn.

So I went fishing and spent plenty of time dreaming of the day I'd get a bike or a car an blow the whole place,never to be seen again.

Today I still go fishing,don't have much time for people,and keep "my family" very close.

Now days "those people" have been heard to ask why I never vist or pick up the phone,,even though they've never bothered themselves.

When I hear that I go back to being a 7 year old and often ask "myself" what "their" problem is,or have they always just been that blind to the effects of their own actions.

Threads like this tend to do the same thing,,not in the above a bad way,,just the memories.

I caught some fine fish.

Yes. I don't like remembering ... the past was a very dark and violent place ... until I left home ... and I have a little to do with my family as possible ...

[cc rider]

When I was 4yo we lived in Tenterfield, NSW. It was semi-rural, so there was the usual outhouse (we had to check for redbacks everytime), chooks flying in onto the kitchen table much to the amusement of us kids. One memorable day during my big brother's bath-time, constant calls for mum were met with the predictable "What's going on in there?"... she may have expected to find a waterlogged floor or a lil boy in urgent need of a pee... but I can tell you, she never expected to find a fully grown cow casually hanging-out in our bathroom. We loved that cow We didn't even own a cow

Dad worked for a mining co & holidays were sometimes spent gold panning or exploring open-cut mines. I loved it. I guess that's why I like that dad has been giving me some of his stone & fossil collection. I'm the proud owner of dinosaur poo (Coprolites)

When I was 4 1/2 yo, my sister 7 & brother 6 were playing superman on the front verandah. This involved climbing up onto the top rail & jumping onto the deck. Naturally I wanted in. Unfortunately I didn't quite get the rules of the game. My approach was gud. Scramble to the top. That's were things didn't go to plan. Instead of jumping onto the deck, I jumped onto the ground. What a dick.
One lil broken leg in a very big cast & crutches. I'm told my catch cry during recovery was "Cup of tea, ly down, pill." Hmmm... still is. Haha!

When I was 5yo, I was chased by a bear... but that's another story.