G’day,
(For Americans, “G’day” is short for “Good day”, pronounced “g’dye” in Australia.)
Allow me to introduce myself. I am long-winded, so relax.
I am a baby-boomer, born 1950, in Crow’s Nest, Sydney, Australia. Not in “a crow’s nest”, but in a suburb called Crow’s Nest.
In 1969, my mother made the mistake of loaning me the money to buy a Honda 90 motorcycle to ride to university, to save on petrol (gas), even though gas was only about 40 cents per gallon then. I thought it was a good idea anyway. Later she tried to correct the mistake by giving me a VW Bug, knowing I couldn’t afford both a car and a bike. It didn’t work, I gave away the car to my brother.
In 1974, she made a second mistake by showing me an ad for a summer camp-counseling program in USA. I ended up at a summer camp in Ozark, Southern Illinois, amid a wild and crazy bunch of Americans, many of whom are still my friends, one of whom is my wife.
Thirty-one years after that Honda 90, in 2005, I am onto my lucky 13th motorcycle, and live in Belleville, Illinois, with my true love/ soul mate/ best friend/ girlfriend/ wife (lucky for me, they’re all one person, Sara) whom I met at the summer camp in 1974. Sara loves motorbikes and vegemite (and me). She leant to ride two years ago on a Honda 250 Shadow, but now rides a Honda VT750.
My bikes - Honda CL90, Triumph Tiger 500, 1942 Harley-Davidson WLA, Triumph Trophy 650, Norton Commando 750, Yamaha XS650, Yamaha XV1000, 1984 Harley-Davidson Evolution Wide Glide, Harley XLCH Sportster, another Yamaha XV1000, and a 1975 Harley-Davidson FLH Shovelhead, and a 2005 Yamaha Road Star..
Sara and I (my name is David) are reasonably fit, middle-aged people. Sara is on the young side of middle age, and I am on the middle side, the Age of Colonoscopy. We actually enjoy walking downhill and uphill with heavy backpacks (preferably in the Grand Canyon). Sara is a Biology teacher, and is beautiful, smooth, outgoing, female and American: I am an Autocad drafter for architects, and I am rough, hairy, quiet, male and Australian. It’s a mixed marriage. We have a thirty-year-old son who was smarter than us and became an engineer, a graduate of U of I. He is self-sufficient finally. He likes visiting Belleville because he says it makes him realize that he made the right decision to move to Chicago.
I work for 49 weeks out of the year in front of a computer. I get three weeks vacation after 8 years of service (two weeks before that, one week in the first year)! Americans don’t know what a real vacation is! Three weeks is peanuts!
For three weeks a year (more if I take off without pay) I have LIFE, which means riding a motorcycle some place far away with my wife, backpacking for several days and nights, and riding back home. In recent years it has been to the Grand Canyon and Rocky Mountain National Park.
The three most spectacular roads I have ridden on are Highways 12/ 24 in Utah, the Trail Ridge Road from Estes Park to Grand Lake in Colorado, and the Great Ocean Road in Victoria, Australia. But I feel in my guts that even I-70 across Kansas or the 90-Mile Straight on Highway 1 on the Nullarbor Plain in Australia are spectacular on a motorcycle compared to any road in a car. Any vacation not on a motorcycle or walking with a backpack is a waste, in my humble opinion.
Our longest trip in the USA was to Los Angeles and back from St Louis, via Monument Valley and the Grand Canyon, about 4,500 miles in about 1992, on the Shovelhead. Our longest motorcycle trip ever was 13,000 miles around and through Australia in 1996 for three months on the second XV1000. My longest trip on the Roadie has been about 4,200 miles to LA and back, in April-May 2005 (see “A Big Trip” post in the
RSR Forum). It was cold, wet in places, windy, and I did the 4,200 miles in only 6 days (with a trip to Australia in the middle) and I loved every second.
Advice for Americans visiting Australia:
It’s too far to go for a weekend.
Don’t try to say “G’day”, you can’t do it.
If someone asks you if you’re a “Septic”, the correct answer is, “Yes, and proud of it.”
Don’t say you “root” for the football team, unless you mean you have sex with them.
If you ask for a “rubber” in a store, you will get an eraser.
Don’t ask for a “fanny pack”, unless you’re at a gynecologist’s.
You don’t really have to eat vegemite to get into the country.
Shep