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Hi everyone this story is about my love of motorcycles.

In my street most of the boys had mini bikes , Martin,  had a blue Honda Dax 70 , his brother Brendon had a red Honda 50 and the Cargill boys shared a gold Dax 70 , 

I believe that Fat told me recently that they still have it. 

I can remember at that time Glen had a red old postie bike . 

I had my feet . 

I had dreamed and longed and wished for things to change , so I could ride with them . 

Martin used to dink me around the bush pillion a fair bit and we sometimes did things together like cut tee tree out in the bush and we then towed it back to our neighbourhood , tied on a rope behind his bike and  use it to help build our gangs bonfire . Which everyone in the neighbourhood threw on anything and everything  that would burn . 

Tyres were a prize addition as in the fire they would billow out thick black smoke into the night air . 

So I had met a new friend Terry Atkins and he and his older brother Barry  lived at the Miners Rest hotel because their parents owned it. 

Barry was a chef working there and I used to stay there at the house sometimes on a weekend and I loved that because any time of day or night we could just go into the hotel bar and help ourselves to any type of lemonade on tap , so we would grab jugs of drink and packets of chips , nuts and go and watch tv in the house . 

They also had a workshop at the back of the squash courts , and Terry opened it up one day and showed me the two bikes inside .

There was a Yamaha 60 

And a Yamaha YZ 80 

Sitting there , 

I was wrapped , so from then on Terry dunk me everywhere on the 80 and even with the two of us aboard that bike was quick . 

So we had a great time for a few months hanging out and riding together before Barry decided to order a brand new Suzuki RM 80, 

One funny part is my Uncle Kevin had the Suzuki dealership and when it arrived he sold Barry the bike . 

So that left a problem there was one to many bikes in the shed , Terry gave me a ride of the 60  and it was cool .  

I went home and told my parents about the bike and asked if they might by it for me. 

When they gave me the answer I thought I was hearing things as they said yes. 

I couldn’t believe it , finally all of my wishes and my dreams had come true, 

I think that I actually sprinted up to the Miners Rest , and told Terry the good news , and as things were in the country back then I took the bike straight home without even paying for it , that was just a minor detail . 

So when I got home I was super excited and then I got the big lecture and rules of the bike , as apparently they came with responsibility, so I was told by mum and dad to stay riding in the back bush area and under no circumstances was I to ride on the roads like Poplar St ,as that was to be my boundary .

Of course I agreed , in that mood I would or agree to anything. 

So every day straight after school , and all weekend I was on the bike , we had a bowser of super petrol in our backyard but I had been told to run my bike on standard . 

So sometimes twice a week I would walk up the street carrying what I recall a plastic gallon container and go to 

Mick Moresco’s garage and fill it up , fuel then I recall was 18 cents a gallon . 

So I loved everything that went with that bike except when you went through a deep puddle it would spray the spark plug with water and kill the engine so that was a pain in the ass . 

I sometimes wished that I had brought the YZ instead as it was a much  better bike . But Barry’s new RM was something else , it was a weapon and I think may have been one of the quickest bikes going besides Carie’s  YZ 250 that was said to be a  100 mile an hour machine . 

He actually still has it . 

Ok so with all that riding I was doing eventually I started to get a bit bored with things , so I ventured onto Poplar St which wasn’t yet a bitumen Rd and it was under construction and had a base of red stone down as a surface , 

I was able to go so much faster on the road as it was completely open in front of me  not like the scrub . 

So after a while I decided next to ride down Cyclone St  and that was bitumen and  had a concrete curb and channel . At the end of it was the Cyclone forging workers carpark , it was a stone big square area with  partial fence made of steel droppers and one single strand of wire on top which in some sections was just laying down on the ground so it was like a gate with a curb step . 

So it’s through this gap that I would enter and exit the carpark . 

This practice went on for a few weeks , 

before one morning when I headed there it started raining and it got pretty hard so I entered the carpark as there was only one car parked  in there , so it’s time for some donuts .

The rain got even heavier and I decided then to go home . 

I pointed the bike at the exit and I couldn’t even see past the front mudguard in front of my face, and the rain was stinging my eyes badly as I had no goggles on , 

I pointed my bike at the road through the gate .

I accelerated through the gears quickly and in the next second l knew I  was sitting flat on my ass on the ground and  holding my neck struggling to breathe as I watched my bike get itself to the middle of the road and fall over . 

I got onto my knees and I realised that I missed the gate and I had rode under the next bit with a top wire on it. 

The rain was easing and I noticed a man from the factory running really fast towards me , I thought bugger I’m in trouble now .

So I jumped to my feet and ran straight at the bike in a panic and picked it up whilst kicking the starter , it started and I roared off down the road, as fast as I could go and headed home . 

When I got home and inside in the bathroom I looked in the mirror and it was looking pretty bad , I had a thick line right across my neck with bits of it bleeding through the skin .

It was a bit sore but I couldn’t tell mum , 

so for the next week I hid the scar on my neck from everyone by wearing high neck jumpers and skivvies until it healed up. 

So that man in the carpark must have rang the cops and reported the incident because a few weeks later I rode on the road  again and when I pulled in to the yard later and turned off the bike and got off , then I saw the cops in the yard in a divvy van ,  covered in mud , right up close behind me.

Oops this isn’t good I thought, and I was right because the fall out from that was that the cops said to my parents that I had to sell my dream . 

Now I had to wait till I was 17 to get my next bike , that’s another story to come  soon 

Cheers 

Curlyg