Point to Ponder!

**Smorg** · 12th August 2005, 14:46

Originally Posted by placidfemme

lol I was riding home over the harbour bridge and there was a van with school girls in it and because my visor is tinited they obviously couldn't tell that I was a chick and they were waving at me, and blowing kisses

I had the biggest grin on my face, and shot them a quick wave before hooning off into the sunset hehe

Cheap thrills right it'd fix me for the day

**Smorg** · 12th August 2005, 14:48

Originally Posted by vifferman

I like having a tinted visor. You can ignore people who are trying to get your attention, it makes you more sinister, and if you're like me, people can't tell how ugly you really are.

I concur love the tints

**Motu** · 12th August 2005, 14:49

Back when biker meant more than just someone who rides any old bike - your everyday street attire marked you as a biker,you could be picked out at a distance by the way you walked,bike boots were not jandals....the bikers in cars noticed you....and you noticed them,because bikers drove cars that were noticable from a distance too.

There was no wave,but there was eye contact,and a lot of information was tranfered in the process.Sometimes an almost imperceptable nod of the head acknowledged recognition.If you were walking because your bike was broken down you would always be offered a lift....but never home,and you never said where you left the bike,but there was no harm in trying to extract this information,they most likely already knew all about your bike and where you lived.

I have look out for motorbikes stickers and motorcycle product stickers like Fly,Progrip,NGK etc on both my vehicles,I pull over when I see a bike behind....but never get a wave....I don't care,I mean...if they don't know who I am they are just fuckin nobodies as far as I'm concerned.

**placidfemme** · 12th August 2005, 14:50

lol I had that grin on my face for AGES... even thinking back on it now still makes me smile

**kerryg** · 12th August 2005, 15:00

Or how bloody old and grey. Dismounted from my gleaming steed,took my helmet off once and heard a bystander comment in surprise "look at that old barnacle"

('cos in my bike gear I look very youthful and vigorous until you see my gnarled and wizened head). Lucky I'm not sensitive

**Smorg** · 12th August 2005, 15:28

Originally Posted by kerryg

Or how bloody old and grey. Dismounted from my gleaming steed,took my helmet off once and heard a bystander comment in surprise "look at that old barnacle"

('cos in my bike gear I look very youthful and vigorous until you see my gnarled and wizened head). Lucky I'm not sensitive

Classic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**vifferman** · 12th August 2005, 15:43

Originally Posted by Smorgen

Classic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Spoken like a true youngun.

It's disturbing growing older, because you don't feel any older inside, yet people judge you on your looks. I remember talking to my grandmother about this one day, and she said, "Y'know - I still feel the same way inside as I did when I was 16. In fact, one day recently, I was feeling all happy and young, and I caught sight of my reflection in a shop window. Just for a second, I didn't recognise myself, and thought, 'Who's that horrible old bag?!?' "

She didn't want to get all old, senile and feeble, and intended to jump off one of the Hamilton bridges if she got that way, but fortunately she had a stroke one day, went into a coma, and lived for just a few days, just long enough for her children to say goodbye to her.

**John** · 12th August 2005, 15:52

As long as you can still get the wee biker up life is good, my tank mutilates mine :\

**Pancakes** · 12th August 2005, 16:01

Speaking of tanks and little bikers, do you guys know the story/urban legend of an unfortunate bike courier?

**Smorg** · 12th August 2005, 16:03

Originally Posted by vifferman

Spoken like a true youngun.

It's disturbing growing older, because you don't feel any older inside, yet people judge you on your looks. I remember talking to my grandmother about this one day, and she said, "Y'know - I still feel the same way inside as I did when I was 16. In fact, one day recently, I was feeling all happy and young, and I caught sight of my reflection in a shop window. Just for a second, I didn't recognise myself, and thought, 'Who's that horrible old bag?!?' "

She didn't want to get all old, senile and feeble, and intended to jump off one of the Hamilton bridges if she got that way, but fortunately she had a stroke one day, went into a coma, and lived for just a few days, just long enough for her children to say goodbye to her.

Jeez!!!!! It was the way he worded it that i thought was funny not a stab at the oldies at all

**John** · 12th August 2005, 16:04

Originally Posted by BrianGB

Speaking of tanks and little bikers, do you guys know the story/urban legend of an unfortunate bike courier?

enlighten us wise one..

**Pancakes** · 12th August 2005, 16:12

The guys bike, 750 Kwaka if I remember right is parked on Hobson St footpath and the boys are on the piss. Everyone decides to go to town and the bike needs putting away so Mr Drunk courier rips out into the middle of the 6 lane road, does a smokey 180 and guns it into his parking (praking?) space that is made out of concrete blocks with earth rammed behind them. Massive dent in the tank, forks poked, oh well, goes to town. Later he collapses and gets a disco ride to hospital to have a ball removed cos it climbed inside his body to complain. I heard the tank looked like it had been customised to fit Ron Jeremy "just right". Glad it wasn't me.

**oldrider** · 12th August 2005, 16:36

We did a trip up north last summer and have to say apart from a few dick heads the other traffic on the roads were bloody great. Don't always wave to cages cos you can't see in them most times. Never loose the excitement when you see other bike/bikes though. Hope I never will. Cheers John.

**Smorg** · 12th August 2005, 16:41

Originally Posted by BrianGB

The guys bike, 750 Kwaka if I remember right is parked on Hobson St footpath and the boys are on the piss. Everyone decides to go to town and the bike needs putting away so Mr Drunk courier rips out into the middle of the 6 lane road, does a smokey 180 and guns it into his parking (praking?) space that is made out of concrete blocks with earth rammed behind them. Massive dent in the tank, forks poked, oh well, goes to town. Later he collapses and gets a disco ride to hospital to have a ball removed cos it climbed inside his body to complain. I heard the tank looked like it had been customised to fit Ron Jeremy "just right". Glad it wasn't me.

Ive got a better story and not urban either a guy i used to play rugby with dislocated his hip in a maul and the medics put it back in for him only problem was his testicle had traveled into the socket of the femur and pelvis and when the leg was popped back in........................you can guess the rest needless to say he screamed and fainted cool huh?