The
Seventies - A fictional story by Stevie the Bee
It was a hot summer night and we road through
Collaroy Beach. The mob comprised of Fryer, Gaspo, Wozza, Needle, Herpies, Sarge and myself Stevie the Bee. We all
rode Kwaka Nines except for Herpies on his Bonny and Gaspo on his Norton Commando. You could smell the Pacific
Ocean as the salt was strong in the breeze. There were many young and drunk people roaming the streets. The rumble
of our engines as the pack came through brought many eyes upon us as we were a sight to behold it seemed. My Z1 was
immaculate and I was running a straight through Yoshi 4 into 1 system which had a lovely note. I felt like king of
the world. There seemed to be nothing that could catch me except for a better rider on another nine.
I had as did the others dropped some mescal called
Blue moons before leaving the clubhouse and I could feel the effects starting to come on. I picked up the pace a
little cause I did not want to be riding while peaking out so we needed to get to the Mona Vale Hotel before we
were full blown tripping. I gunned it past Fryer’s black z1000 and took the lead. The old Z1 was quick like a cut
snake. The seven of us were barrelling along at speed now and clear of the built up area. I was starting to see
flashes of things out of the corner of my eye and did not know if they were hallucinations or roos jumping out of
the bush. You really don’t want to hit a roo on a bike as it would surely ruin your day.
I looked in my rear view mirror and well you can’t
see shit out of these mirrors but I could make out a blue flashing light if I saw one. Everyone was keeping up even
Herpies who was always the slowest.
We cruised through Warriewood and could see the
lights of Mona Vale at the end of the long straight. Nearly there which is great cause im off my tree. We roared
along the esplanade and then coasted as our mob neared the Hotel. There were bikes all lined up out front. I could
see a couple of Harley choppers and plenty of British bikes. We backed our bikes in alongside them. Our bikes
seemed so big compared to these British bikes. There were people hanging around the front and a long queue to get
in. I locked my brain bucket to the bike with a chain through the back wheel. Not that anyone would touch it but
you never know. Herpies will hang out the front most of the night anyway.
We joined the queue and the blue moons were really
kicking in. Sarge said something about all of us blending in and then we started laughing. Not sure why but we
couldn’t stop laughing. It seemed so funny at the time. All of sudden the queue started moving and we were almost
at the door when a fight started inside the hotel. The guy at the door said for us to wait and he went inside to
assist the bouncers. Yeh we will wait sure so we all walked in anyway.
There was a local band playing called Midnight Oil.
The lead singer was a bald guy that really goes off on stage. We grabbed a table that was close to the bar and had
a great view of the stage. Barmaids were extremely attractive that night as was anything we looked at. Gaspo was
fascinated for hours looking at his coaster. We all hit the piss hard being that the trip took over no matter how
much you drank. Met some cool people we knew, Teflon and Muesli Bob. They had some hashish and invited us back for
a smoke. So we got the mob back together and met out front.
We started our motorcycles and
they fired up with a roar. Multiple big Kawasaki fours sound so good in numbers. Hell they sound good by
themselves. My ears were still ringing from the Midnight Oil band as well. Teflon rode a red Ducati Darmah and
Muesli Bob was on his Water bottle Suzuki GT750. Teflon said for us to follow him so he led the way out through the
Hotel carpark. We all pulled up at the set of traffic lights. A bunch of young drunk girls started waving and
screaming when they saw us. We must have been a sight as we are a motley crew. The lights turned red and I dropped
the clutch. The front came up as I took off across the intersection. There was a shipload of smoke from burning
rubber as everyone hammered it.
We followed Teflon through Barrenjoey Road and out
to Palmy through all the twisties it was great. Love riding these kwakas, you are king of the road. You know you
are alive when you scrape a Zed One on corners and we left some gouges in that road that night.
