It’d been a tough day and Bluey knew it: She always knows.
She’s one of my best friends: Never offering an opinion or taking sides; she just listens patiently while humming her soothing one note song.
The sun filtered though the trees warming the brisk morning air as The Pillion and I followed the black ribbon that was Mt Nebo Road. No one ahead of us, nor behind, and only the beat of the engine beneath us breaking the silence.
It was one of those surreal moments in time, when everything just flowed.
When I started riding there was a rule here in Queensland that you were restricted to a 250 capacity bike for your first 12 months, after which time you could upgrade to an open class licence and ride whatever you liked. It didn’t matter if it was a Yama-haha cruiser or a Spew-zuki RGV (!), as long it was a 250. Now-days, you can ride up to a 660 as long as it meets the LAMS* restrictions.
About 12 months ago, the family and I went for a drive out to Tamborine Mountain to explore the region and see what it has to offer. While we were there, we took the time to watch the hang-gliders.
As a throw away line I mentioned that I’d like to try that one day. The Pillion In A Million and JaJa took this on board and started saving their money, and on my last birthday I was presented with a gift voucher for a tandem flight with Paragliding Queensland.
Last century, an enterprising bunch of teenagers, the local tough guys, brought an old Honda Cub Step-Through down to the paddock where me and a bunch of mates would congregate. The bike was unregistered, uninsured, and probably “borrowed”.