Metaljockey
Race Dog
The 2007 GS Challenge thread brought back some memories of the 2005 Challenge.
Let me tell the whole story regarding the Kawasaki dissing.
Myself, Michnus and Hennie finish up the first day's riding (and it is quite a couple of hours worth) and pull into Loxton to refuel. We are met by this unlovely sight.
Now I've never been keen on queues, and if you are going to wait ,you might as well pull up a beer or two and get comfortable. So that's what we do.
Getting comfortable in the gutter with a nice view of the petrol queue.
All is peacefull and we make some good friends with some of the local gutter dwellers. Hennie even finds that he is famous in town.
Next thing we know a police van pulls up. Apparently the law against drinking in public wasn't abolished together with the Immorality Act. I would have thought differently.
Hennie explains in a friendly manner that we understand and will cease and desist as soon as we have finished the open quarts. Very accommodating from our side I reckon.
Check out the box of beers.
Not three minutes later and three police bakkies slide to a halt and a shitload of cops surround us. Our accommodating stance seems to just have pissed them off. Being outnumbered we decide to reconsider our stance on the unfinished beers. The unanimous decision is that these fine officers have a valid point and we should just fokof immediately.
One of our new gutter mates offer to show us the "rekreasie gronde" (public park) where alcohol consumption is allowed. He gets on the back of Hennie's bike and I give a lift to a leggy young thing I judge to be about twelve.
The park turns out to be way the hell out of town on a gravel track. As we slow down to pull into the grounds I hear this little female go "OOOOOH HOE LEKKA KRY EK NOU!" from the back seat. Having been married for some 15 years this is something I haven't heard in a long time, it made my day.
In the meantime Hennie is giving his pillion a rofie ride from hell. The ouk is clinging to Hennie like a bosluis, using his arms and legs. That he wasn't chucked of the back is a wonder.
The park turns out to be a small stand of pine trees with some remains of braai areas and the ablutions have the obligatory excrement and condom debris with all kinds of joumase graffiti on the walls. So we only stay until the beer runs out.
We want to leave but since we arrived there, a police bakkie has been patrolling up and down a sideroad. And I mean up and down, up and down.
While I am a big supporter of riding drunk I am vehemently against being caught riding drunk. So, as soon as the bakkie is out of sight we leave in a cloud of dust and hightail it the 12 odd km to the Challenge site. I kid you not, as I get off my bike, a police bakkie careens into the site. Luckily by this time we had become 3 sardines in a school of 600 again.
It appears that they were miffed and complained to the organisers. That night at briefing the famous (in my mind) words were spoken: "C'mon people, were not Kawasaki riders". I found this very funny as almost every biker at one or other stage of his life was a Kawasaki rider. At the time, both me and Hennie had Kawasakis at home and Michnus has one still.
That afternoon, in our slightly inebriated state, both me and Hennie took part in the skills challenge. Both of us went through to the second round. Who didn't get through? Dave Peterson. Yes that one. Which led to much mirth as at least once every hour one of us would say: Ek gee nie om nie, ek het Dave Peterson in sy moer gery".
I thoroughly enjoyed the 2005 GS Challenge. And I will always remember these quotes:
"Ooooooh hoe lekka kry ek nou."
"C'mon people, we are not Kawasaki riders."
"Ek het Dave Peterson in sy moer gery"
Let me tell the whole story regarding the Kawasaki dissing.
Myself, Michnus and Hennie finish up the first day's riding (and it is quite a couple of hours worth) and pull into Loxton to refuel. We are met by this unlovely sight.
Now I've never been keen on queues, and if you are going to wait ,you might as well pull up a beer or two and get comfortable. So that's what we do.
Getting comfortable in the gutter with a nice view of the petrol queue.
All is peacefull and we make some good friends with some of the local gutter dwellers. Hennie even finds that he is famous in town.
Next thing we know a police van pulls up. Apparently the law against drinking in public wasn't abolished together with the Immorality Act. I would have thought differently.
Hennie explains in a friendly manner that we understand and will cease and desist as soon as we have finished the open quarts. Very accommodating from our side I reckon.
Check out the box of beers.
Not three minutes later and three police bakkies slide to a halt and a shitload of cops surround us. Our accommodating stance seems to just have pissed them off. Being outnumbered we decide to reconsider our stance on the unfinished beers. The unanimous decision is that these fine officers have a valid point and we should just fokof immediately.
One of our new gutter mates offer to show us the "rekreasie gronde" (public park) where alcohol consumption is allowed. He gets on the back of Hennie's bike and I give a lift to a leggy young thing I judge to be about twelve.
The park turns out to be way the hell out of town on a gravel track. As we slow down to pull into the grounds I hear this little female go "OOOOOH HOE LEKKA KRY EK NOU!" from the back seat. Having been married for some 15 years this is something I haven't heard in a long time, it made my day.
In the meantime Hennie is giving his pillion a rofie ride from hell. The ouk is clinging to Hennie like a bosluis, using his arms and legs. That he wasn't chucked of the back is a wonder.
The park turns out to be a small stand of pine trees with some remains of braai areas and the ablutions have the obligatory excrement and condom debris with all kinds of joumase graffiti on the walls. So we only stay until the beer runs out.
We want to leave but since we arrived there, a police bakkie has been patrolling up and down a sideroad. And I mean up and down, up and down.
While I am a big supporter of riding drunk I am vehemently against being caught riding drunk. So, as soon as the bakkie is out of sight we leave in a cloud of dust and hightail it the 12 odd km to the Challenge site. I kid you not, as I get off my bike, a police bakkie careens into the site. Luckily by this time we had become 3 sardines in a school of 600 again.
It appears that they were miffed and complained to the organisers. That night at briefing the famous (in my mind) words were spoken: "C'mon people, were not Kawasaki riders". I found this very funny as almost every biker at one or other stage of his life was a Kawasaki rider. At the time, both me and Hennie had Kawasakis at home and Michnus has one still.
That afternoon, in our slightly inebriated state, both me and Hennie took part in the skills challenge. Both of us went through to the second round. Who didn't get through? Dave Peterson. Yes that one. Which led to much mirth as at least once every hour one of us would say: Ek gee nie om nie, ek het Dave Peterson in sy moer gery".
I thoroughly enjoyed the 2005 GS Challenge. And I will always remember these quotes:
"Ooooooh hoe lekka kry ek nou."
"C'mon people, we are not Kawasaki riders."
"Ek het Dave Peterson in sy moer gery"
