Friday, November 20, 2009


On departure to freshen up for the night, Ross asked the local journo who came to cover our story were he could camp for the night, having been banned from any motel due to his outrageous behaviour on past tours. His advice was “You go down the road and turn left at the traffic lights, then over the level crossing and past the old pub. You then take the first turn right then next left and follow the Cowra road … To Cowra. There is a great camping spot there. Ross smiled, knowing there’s no such thing as too far, and fired up the Beemer once more.

biblio 2009 084

The sirens are screaming and the fires are howling Way down in the valley tonight
There’s a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye And a blade shining oh so bright
There’s evil in the air and there’s thunder in the sky And a killers on the bloodshot streets

Or so it seemed, but it was a breathalyser squad. Some four cars, three bikes and a wagon, all the cops in Forbes and they stayed there all night on the Lachlan highway. Only one thing to do, ride our bikes back to the motel on the main road through the middle of town.

That evening more drinks at the local club where we celebrated Ian’s birthday with a bottle of Cowra white, and further refined our outrageous motorcycling tales.

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