Thursday, September 21, 2006

Tounge That Rat (Part 2)

Part 2 – Beer Down! Pants Down! Man Down!

After an impressive screening of some ToF short films, with bellies full of beer and snags, and MGE now all tarted up with a ridiculously overpowered 500w sound system, we rolled out of HQ. The procession contained some 25 bikes, not one of them “normal”. People came out of their houses to watch the parade unexpectedly pass before them. Cars had no option but to slow to our speed and take it all in as we consumed the road.

Bell cruised past riding the penny farthing side saddle. Dogga looked totally at home on Dennis the Chopper – his gift for the weekend from the Tonguers, complete with furry seat and free floating chain ring. Scrujette darted around on SmallTall. Toad Haul arched gracefully around the pack on French Tickler, his recently completed mid-tall chopper. Limp and Mudbutt bonded at eye level on Disaster Area and Skylab consecutively.

The Publican at the first bar of the evening appeared perplexed. Despite it only being 9pm on a Saturday evening, he seemed a little worried that we might disturb the neighbours a tad too much for business. Might have had something to do with us drowning out their sound system from 100m down the road? Might have had something to do with the 30 odd unusual bikers who just turned up out of nowhere? Maybe we were simply clogging the footpath? Thankfully the strip joint was a totally different ball game, if you’ll excuse the pun.

The proprietor of the titty bar knew a dry tongue and a thirsty rat when he saw one. Throwing the beer garden gates open he exclaimed “bring your bikes in so everyone can see them!” We didn’t need any more encouragement.

The beers flowed over the pool tables. Rats talked shop with Tonguers. Bikes were ridden in the carpark out the back. The only one who wasn’t getting much attention was the stripper who lost her clientele to the diverse mob and their contraptions out the back.

“Onwards to the city” came the call. And within minutes we were blocking two lanes of Port Road. Car horns blared (but not in anger) with their occupants leaning out the window, either to get a better look, or simply to holler in appreciation.

And then we were in a dark park. Crossing bridges. Slashing in bushes. A tunnel was turned into a dance club with flashing red lights cutting lines through the smoke from MGE’s on board smoke machine. Choons blared. And then we were by the river. Chilling.

Occasional sorties would burst over the rise, tearing down the grass towards the river bank, dodging revellers all the way. The city provided the backdrop. But we chose not to enter its midst. The river bank was an excellent place for lurv.

Soon enough we rolled back to HQ. The fire bin roared. The excitement began to sink into a deep form of appreciation and contemplation. Some people disappeared into the night. But the night was not done with us yet.

As the fire twirlers twirled, and the fire breathers lit up HQ in bursts of orange light, Moodswinger awoke from her slumber. Wheels of fire tore down the driveway and onto the road. The flames trailed backwards from the top of the front rim, licking at the gnarled forks and hungry for the rider’s legs.

Two$Deal had been staring at me all night. Bell’s penny was the first genuine penny farthing I’d ever seen not couped up in a museum collecting dust. I was curious about how they would ride. But I was smashed. Not really in any state to be riding anything at all, let alone a vintage bike. “No.” I told myself “No vintage bikes”. I should have ignored Two$'s dirty looks. But I just couldn’t resist.

Mounting was a breeze. Stability was good. Maybe I wasn’t as drunk as I though I was. My friend adrenaline was back for the billionth time that night.

The rear of Two$Deal’s two seats gave it a kind of chopperised penny ride. It was great! And did I mention how stable it was?

Moving up to the forward seat gave me what I can only assume is a very similar ride to that of a penny. Handlebars close to the body. Weight almost directly over the front axle. Two$ came with the added advantage of a freewheel. Geeze this is way more stable than I imagine. I thought these things were supposed to be hard to ride…. What was that Mr. Adrenaline?

Surfing Two$ down the road in front of HQ at 4am was a marvellous feeling. There was no one on the road. It was quiet, aside from the murmurs from the dozen or so still up round the fire. It was a balmy night. I placed my hands back on the bars and dropped my feet from the seats to the peddles and cranked up the momentum for another wave. And then another. And then one more for good measure.

Cranking the bike up the driveway, I realised I probably had enough speed to actually surf all the way past the fire and in through the big doors to put Two$ to bed for the night.

The sight of all the bikes inside coming into view as I passed through the doors was a beautiful sight to behold from atop such a bike. And then it happened.

Mr. Smashed, in cohorts with Mr. Distraction, and no doubt ably assisted by Mr. Smart Arse, decided they’d gang up on Mr. Adrenaline. He only had the time to whimper “Bugger” before realising that the bike had lost all momentum. There would be no slipping down to the peddles for a smooth dismount. There would be crashing down to the floor though, which was done with precision and angst.

Bring the pain.

I’ve knocked myself out numerous times before. But never have I blacked out due to pain. Damn I was close this time. I also wanted to puke. Limp, Bell and a few others came to my aid with the esky. And before I knew it I was sitting by the fire in the wheelchair bike.

Soon enough I retired for the evening with the intentions of hitting the hospital early in the morning in an attempt to a) dodge all the other drunkard cases, and b) not miss any of the main event later that day.

As I drifted off to sleep I was comforted by the distant fireside conversation which had now turned to how I would be transported to the Arena of Scrapey the following day. The Mariah’s coffin sidecar. Or MGE pillion. I couldn’t believe these people’s hospitality!

Despite the pain I knew the next day was going to be exceptional!

Part 3 - The Main Event! - coming soon


Blogger The Supreme Overlord Gravox said...

waiting with baity breath and moist pants for the next instalment

2:06 PM  

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