IN THE BLOOD
"Reflections of a Larrikin"
Brian McRae

click on photos to enlarge

A yet un published account of motor cycling in Bunbury as viewed from the eyes of a participant.

IN THE BEGINNING…………………………..GOD OR SOMEONE MADE MOTOR BIKES

1964 was the year that at the age of 17 I was introduced to the world of motor-bikes……… that being as the owner of a licensed 125cc BSA Bantam, and with a license to ride it.
I had always tinkered with bikes, but this was my first licensed one.
The Bantam awakened something inside of me that has seen me riding motorcycles for almost every day of my life since that time so long ago.
The Bantam served mainly as a means of transport to and from work, although I always had a car and a Goggomobil Dart which was a small fiber glass 2 stroke sports car.
I can still remember the Bantam’s protest at my insistence on maintaining at least the speed limit against the South Westerly sea breeze encountered every summer afternoon in Bunbury as I rode home from where I worked as a small engines and motorcycle mechanic for Ray Trebley. Ray later became the Honda dealer for our area. 

At that time I satisfied my competitive urges by racing go-carts, however would at times venture to the scramble track where as a spectator I enjoyed the action but saw the competitors as being completely mad. I could not see how a group of bikes and riders could compete and survive at the speed and manner in which they travelled……however.......
As an excuse to compensate for the Bantam’s lack of power against the sea breezes, I proceeded with my first attempt to gain more speed from the little BSA. In what turned out to be a worthwhile modification, I replaced the “Amal” carby with a bigger “Bing” off a 98cc JLO go-cart engine. The extra bit of speed was no doubt the result of the larger size carby, while the general better performance was simply the fact that the Bing was not worn out like the Amal. 

Well it wasn’t long before a faster bike was required, although I was not yet properly bitten by the motorcycling bug. My father had purchased a 1958 305 Honda Dream which came with the above mentioned Bantam. The Honda  had been “blown up” previously in a road race,
The engine was beyond repair, so; the bargain price, however the rest of the bike was in excellent condition. I then purchased a crashed “Czetta” scooter which had a single cylinder 175 cc twin port CZ 2 stroke engine which was also in good condition. We grafted the CZ engine into the Honda frame, fitting the two CZ mufflers and using the same gearing as the scooter with small wheels on the Honda with its 16 inch wheels. The end result turned out to be a good reliable and for its time a good looking bike, which had that almost unknown quality at that time of having good brakes.

I have since heard several reports that Honda used to make a two stroke road bike, because there was one in Bunbury…………? Well….well! That bike taught me the benefits of proper braking, and was probably the main reason for my current existence were it not for the case that I learned to stop properly before I graduated to motorcycles and situations that would find me riding at much greater speeds. 

The bug was beginning to bite, and I soon got hold of another CZ engine and a scramble frame, and began putting together a dirt bike. About this time, we also sold the “2 stroke Honda Dream” and I bought a new 90cc Kawasaki trail bike that although initially to ride to work, was to introduce me to dirt riding, and a progression of dirt and road machines that would link me to the motorcycling fraternity of Bunbury, some of whose many exploits are recorded in this book.

THE 600 ARIEL
Around the time that we purchased the Bantam and the blown up Honda Dream, my father was talking with fellow who working casual at the Mobil Depot in Bunbury where my father worked as a truck driver, and who told him that he owned an old motorcycle, and that I could have if I wanted it.
He said that it was a 600 cc side valve Ariel that he had raced it in Kalgoorlie many years ago.
It was in a chook pen at his mother’s house in Vittoria Road not far from where I was working at Ray Trebley’s small engine workshop.
I immediately went to the house, and was shown to the chook pen where the bike had been stored for many years.
The resident chooks must surely have been motorcycle enthusiasts, as many generations of them had been roosting, nesting, defecating and probably also other things on the bike since its placement in the shed.
There were nests on the seat, on top of the girder forks, on top of the fuel tank, on top of both mudguards and also under the front of the engine.

ENDUROS IN BUNBURY
I was working at the time for Ray Trebley who had just taken on the Kawasaki agency, through the State importer at that time: George Cowie Motorcycles, and George’s son Kevin who was beginning to make his name in road racing. Kawasaki had just introduced a range of trail bikes that performed and looked good, and were proving popular among the local motorcycle enthusiasts. They ranged from the 90cc single two-stroke, through the 120cc “Roadrunner”, 175cc “Bushwhacker” and 250 cc “Sidewinder”. A range of road bikes was also available, and some of these were later successfully modified to claim results in road racing. A new Moto-Cross bike soon also hit the market….the 250 cc “Green Streak”, which was also to compete on the local track. All of these bikes had rotary valves, and were excellent performers against their Japanese counterparts, which were all about this time making their mark on the motorcycle industry. Local Scramble riders Ray Truman, Rob Page and Jim Locke all bought 175 cc “Bushwhackers” and the local club about the same time began running enduros.

As I was the one responsible for servicing these Kawasakis, and carrying out any warranty, I got to know the owners, and had the opportunity to ride the bikes on many occasions, while also riding the many new Kawasakis that we were soon selling. It was also about this time that I bought my 90 cc Kawasaki trail bike, so was soon competing in these endures that to my knowledge were the first to be held in Western Australia. The enduros were organised and mapped mostly by Glen Britza, Ray Buck, Ray Truman and Phil Bruce, and in a short while also by myself.  They began by starting at the organiser’s house, usually followed by some bitumen work until a firebreak or sand track was reached, and then continued on into the forestry, usually around Boyanup to a mid-way checkpoint for drinks, re-fuel and timing in, then a similar journey home to a keg and BBQ. Here the “Race” was re-run many times over with the individual riders each having their own duels and misfortunes to recount.

 The object was to “Average” 30 mph over the course with the winner being the rider who came closest to that average time. The overall distance and check point position was unknown to the riders. The riders were sent off at (1) minute intervals drawn on the day. This was later adjusted into (2) divisions where the B division went first at (1) minute intervals, sometimes followed by a small gap, then the A grade again at (1) minute intervals.

To follow the course, a set of instructions was typed that was either taped to the tank of the bike, a problem on wet days, or simply kept in the rider’s pocket, a problem when having to stop to work out just where one was and then have other competitors race past leaving a dust cloud to navigate through when continuing…….we all tried not to stop. Arrows were also placed on trees and fence posts etc, to help point the way, and these were usually picked up again after the event by the organizer who often “swept” the course for non finishers.

Each organizer had his own designed arrows, and after several years, the bush from Bunbury to Collie, Harvey and Donnybrook was signposted on almost every corner by an arrow of some colour or another which had been left behind after some previous event. Some visiting riders who competed often first scoffed at the 30 mph average, however with the bikes of the time, it was only the best of riders who were able to maintain that average while negotiating hills and creeks, at the same time following both written and arrowed instructions.

(B) graders were required to average 25 MPH which was still a tall task for them at the time. Some riders would simply “hang onto a faster rider”, managing to do so while that faster rider took into account his navigation, only to lose him in the tougher sections and become completely lost from not following their own instructions. Many a dark and wet night was spent in the bush looking for those lost riders, some who had simply realized that they were lost and had no chance of finishing and had just gone home without telling the organizers. On other occasions riders were injured from falls, or their bike had given up and had to be picked up in Britza’s or Phil’s Ute or my Jeep. Organizers were always conscious of their fellow competitor, as most had their own tales of crashes and of machine failure to contend with.

The enduros were a bonus for the motorcycle club, as several moto-cross riders including myself entered the sport through these enjoyable weekend outings.  The Bunbury Enduros became so well known that we began running the “Bunbury 200 mile Enduro” once a year, and riders from all over the State came and competed. These 200 mile Endures were organised by Phil Bruce who began riding the first local Saturday afternoon events on his Suzuki Hustler, a testament to Phil’s riding skills. Phil soon purchased a 175cc Yamaha trail bike which made him a hard rider to catch. At this time, Phil was one of the Bunbury club’s (A) grade Moto-Cross riders competing on a 400 cc Husky at both club and State level.

 As the Enduros became longer and more testing, the trail bikes becoming available were also becoming faster and developing better handling qualities. My own bikes went from my 90 cc Kawasaki to a CL 175 Honda, to an SL 175 Honda, then to an XL250 Moto-sport……the “WATER PUMP”.

 Glen Britza, who in my recollection is the best “All round” rider I have seen, rode a DT1 Yamaha, then a DT250 a little later on. Glen’s Moto-Cross bike was at that time a 400 cc “Husky”.

Phil Bruce rode first his Suzuki Hustler, then his 175 cc Yamaha. Phil also rode a 400 cc “Husky”, and in a short time both he and I were sponsored on Bultacos for our Moto-Cross bikes.

Peter Eccelstone rode a 250 cc Honda Elsinore trail bike.

Don Collins rode a DT1 250 cc Yamaha.

Rob Page rode a 175 cc Kawasaki Bushwhacker.

Jim Locke rode a 175 cc Kawasaki.

Ray Truman rode an AT1 I25 cc Yamaha, then a 175 cc Kawasaki Bushwhacker. Ray’s Moto-Cross bike was a 350 cc “Husky”. 

John Mealey rode a 250 cc Bultaco Matador, and also used the same bike in local and a few State Moto-Cross events. John also owned at one time my ex-broken 250 Kawasaki Sidewinder.

Bill Greenhill rode his only transport; his DT1 250 cc Yamaha, and sometimes also Moto-Crossed the same machine.

Jim Gray rode a DT1 250 cc Yamaha.

Tom Talbot rode a 250 cc Bultaco “Alpina”.

Keith Wilkinson soon bought an SL350 Honda twin that he rode from Harvey to compete in the Bunbury enduros.

Warren “Mooey” Cowell rode a DT1 250 cc Yamaha.    

While there were many more riders and machines, the above list were some of the original Bunbury Enduro riders and the list of machines although not complete is a general picture of what was used at that time.

 PRIMING THE “WATER-PUMP” 
In 1972, Honda made their first serious attempt to produce a true trail bike with the introduction of the 250 cc OHC 4 valve XL 250 Moto-sport.
Being a faithful Honda rider, and with my overworked SL 175 crying for replacement, I ordered my new 250 single.
Immediately on unpacking the new machine, I began making the first modifications, before tackling the enduro to be held that coming Saturday afternoon.
The round shouldered front tyre fitted by Honda as standard for the pseudo trail rider who stays on bitumen, was replaced with a trusty Dunlop “Trials” tyre to address the front end wash-away that worried riders testing these reliable and bullet-proof machines.
Also, with disregard for the “Boys in blue” who frowned deeply on the wonderful sound of a well tuned thumper, I removed ”weight” from the internals of the muffler, replacing it with a straight but perforated piece of exhaust tubing, before packing with fibreglass and re-welding and painting the muffler body to present a rather noisy but standard looking unit. To compensate for this drop in back pressure, I increased the main jet by (5)
In order to try and simulate the “buzzy” power of my Pursang 250 Bultaco Moto-Crosser, I removed the XL crankshaft and machined about 5mm off the outside diameter of the flywheels, leaving a modest amount of metal to keep some tension on the crank pin, and I took as much as possible off the ignition flywheel, leaving just enough to retain the rivets holding the steel outer shell to the aluminium centre. The end result sounded somewhat like a small version of a speedway Jawa.

The name “Water-Pump” was born from this first enduro outing for the bike, when afterwards at the usual “Keg” the laconic drawl of Don Collins was heard to comment: ”all I could hear was this bloody Water–Pump coming through the bush”, making a loose reference to some farmer’s MK25 Villiers pump engine. 
The trusty Water-Pump served me well for two seasons, even allowing me to sometimes keep in the dust cloud of the famous Glen Britza who although troubled by the extra few MPH I was able to coax from the thumper, usually made up for it by his superior riding skills in the tricky stuff.
The Water-Pump almost ended it’s, and my own days,  buried up to No 7 cylinder of a “Chevy” Bel-Air on the way home from another enduro in 1974 after the driver of the car did not see me and hit me head on.
Me and the "Water Pump" both suffered extensive injuries but we both survived!!  
After 18 months of Hospital care with some time to plan the next stage of the thumper, I approached Honda Australia, and came away with the rolling frame of a CR250 Moto-Crosser, into which, with some extra modifications I fitted the XL250 engine.

THE THUMPER AND ITS BABY BROTHER
By this time I was living in Carnarvon where I worked with my friend Gary Westcott in his Motorcycle dealership, and was re-learning to walk, rehabilitating myself in the warm North West climate.
This new 4 stroke machine was to help me back into Moto-Cross and in some way offset my permanent injuries and disabilities that I had sustained in that accident in 1974, and which I still carry to this day.
These extra engine mods included a re-sleeve to 305 cc, a liberal opening of the ports, a 32mm Mikuni carby, reverse cone megaphone, and 100% methanol fuel.

The 305cc 4stroke Honda "Thumper" at Goldsworthy Moto-Cross meeting 1976

The “Thumper” completed 2 Moto-Cross seasons in the North West, plus several enduros, speedway competitions and of course the Gascoyne Junction Motorcycle Gymkhanas, and all in the dust and heat of the North West.
Several riders were envious of the "Thumper" and it was shared liberally between me, Gary Westcott, Barry Wallace, Rick Sullivan and a sprinkle of others who were game.
Rick worked on local sheep stations and was a very competent rider on his CR125.
I still remember a race we had down the dry bed of the Gascoyne River where about 30 riders started across the river bed and raced as a group to a finish a couple of kilometers down stream.
I rode the thumper and Rick rode our shop RM250B Suzuki and we both intended to be winners.
While the majority of riders skirted the pools and obstacles, Rick and I took all in our stride as we jumped logs, banks and pools, some of which were a couple of feet deep and only sheer speed pressed the water aside so to not stop the bikes.
I beat Rick by the skin of my teeth and the others by a fair measure............the spectators loved it!
Rick showed a fair skill in the speedway events where he rode the Thumper, and later went on to buy a Jawa 500cc Solo Bike and compete at Claremont as well as becoming North West solo champion.   

 The "Thumper" has remained un touched still now, where it is ridden on “petrol”, with a quieter exhaust, in Vintage Hill Climbs by local IHC member Howard Whalen,
I often chuckle when I still hear these much admired bikes referred to as “Water- Pumps”, and it brings back to me those exciting enduro days of over 30 years ago. I still promise myself sometimes that I will grab a bucket of methanol and revive old thrills, but common sense lurks in the background!!

While building the thumper in Carnarvon, I also decided to proceed with a lightweight 125 Honda which I had planned building just before my Motor cycle accident in Bunbury in 1974. As I had an apprentice Barry Wallace while at Gary Westcott's motorcycle shop in Carnarvon I would build the bike for Barry to ride in the North West Moto Cross series in which we both competed.
The little 125 weighed in at only 165 lbs and sported 11 inches of suspension front and back in 1976. The porting on the engine could only be described as extreme and it also run on 100% methanol. The bike was extremely fast and Barry rode it to its potential. I still have that bike in my shed.....the thumper is at present on loan.

The 125 under construction with its rider Barry Wallace.  Note extensive use of aluminum

**********************************

 THE 4X4 HILL
As I began to master the XL 250, I found that I was often riding at a similar pace to Glen Britza and so we began a personal challenge of outdoing one another, while still often riding together as a mutual team. Our object was keeping ahead of the other loose team comprising of Peter Eccelstone, Don Collins and Joe Zappa.
This group was later joined by Arthur “Big Bird” O’Neill who also rode a Water-Pump prepared by his late father.
One of the places where I was able to make up for Britza’s extra skills was going down hills on the 4 stroke, under power, but still in control. This greatly pleased me to be one up on Britza who could generally ride in a more leisurely manner while I was forced to keep my heart in my mouth in order to maintain the same pace.
One of the well known obstacles of that time was known as the 4x4 hill.
When first purchasing his first DT1 Yamaha, Glen Britza was one of the first riders to actually attain climbing 4x4 unassisted.

At any enduro where we rode down the 4x4 hill, which was actually harder than riding up, I took great delight in riding away from Britza as he was forced to coax the Yamaha down without stalling and ultimately ending up in a heap trying to negotiate the deep ruts and tree roots that made the hill an almost impossible passage. I was able to sustain this advantage for several enduros, until on an occasion when we both approached the top of the hill in preparation for the dreaded downward journey I was astonished to see Britza zip past me and take the lead. Fully expecting him to come to a skidding end against a tree or over the edge, I braked hard to avoid the inevitable crash into Britza and his Yamaha, only to see the Yamaha ‘s tail light disappear down the hill and away along the track that followed the river. I took off as fast as I was able in an attempt to catch my adversary, to find him already at the check point enjoying a cold drink. When I pulled up I commented; you’ve been practising, to be answered by a chuckle and a wry smile.

 RAW CUNNING ALWAYS BEATS SKILL AND SPEED 
By now I was finding myself with Britza as one of the back markers with the task of catching the slower riders before the checkpoints. We attempted to use our extra speed to gain a position where we were able to slow down to calculate our elapsed time in order to enter the check point with about the correct average speed when we came to it. On this particular enduro, there was a rider with a new 360 cc Yamaha who although starting before us, showed a good turn of speed and riding skill. Some way into the event I caught glimpses of this rider who I have since confirmed was the well known radio host Mike "The Bike" Warren and was forced to push the XL to its limit in an attempt to haul him in.
Mike has always been a good friend and fellow competitor but my memory problems resulting from my head injuries sustained in my accident in 1974 have only been resolved as to this identity since a recent discussion with him.
After many miles in this fruitless attempt, I was presented with my old ally, a steep rocky down-hill track.
I rushed past the Yamaha rider and gained a slim buffer which kept the opponent always one corner behind me but still there in force. As I pressed my skills in an effort to keep this lead, I soon discovered that the track led to a creek where I had been setting up photos a few weeks previously with a press photographer. I had been jumping over the water with the trusty thumper for local newspaper photos.
I could see as I approached the crossing that the water had risen a couple of feet with the recent rain, and at the point where I had been jumping over off a small bank the water must have been a good three feet deep. The shallower crossing section was twenty or so feet to the right of this particular bank.
I sped towards the bank, giving a quick jab on the back brake to leave a distinct skid mark showing my crossing point. I then accelerated from the bank, clearing the deeper water, and just as I left the water and headed up the hill to the check point, I saw the Yamaha rider enter the water at a more cautious pace at my crossing point and suddenly disappear into the water, the only view of the bike being that by the marron and minnows that lived in the creek, while the soaked rider stood waist deep in the icy water.
As I left the check point the unfortunate Yamaha rider was still at the bottom of the hill beside the creek attempting to purge the water from his dead bike.
Even after this sneaky ploy, Mike sent cheerios to me every day on his radio program while I lay for 12 months in Bunbury Regional Hospital after my accident in 1974.  

 BULTACOS CAN SWIM TOO……
 In the early seventies the Bunbury Motorcycle Club was fortunate to have a motorcycling enthusiast working at the local newspaper. This gave us good photographic coverage and write ups which were a boon to both riders and readers alike.
Ian Ferguson (Fergy) soon bought a “Bultaco Lobito” and followed the Enduros, Moto-Cross, Road Racing, and of course the Stunt Riding.
The Borgward Isabella car in the line up of cars to be jumped by Phil was Ian’s………..there’s commitment! Although far removed from motorcycle maintenance and mechanics, Ian thoroughly enjoyed his Bultaco and it somehow survived his ownership.
One winter afternoon after work, we decided to ride from my home in William St along the beach to Capel. When reaching the Capel River I stopped and looked hard at the stream. It was flowing fast, and every indication was that it was fairly deep where it cut through the sand to the ocean. I suggested to “Fergy” that we return to Dungup Park a few kilometres back along the beach and re-gain the road at that point. Oh the river won’t be too deep he said; I’ll ride across. Before I could say anymore, he rode into the river and completely disappeared.
After Fergie was washed to the beach and got out of the cold water, we proceeded to salvage the Bultaco which was nowhere to be seen in the dark dirty river. A bit of probing located the bike and we dragged it from the river and attempted to remove the water and mud with the help of my Honda toolkit……….and it was by now getting cold and dark.
With the Honda tools we were not able to remove the spark plug, so repairs were fairly limited.
I scouted the beach and found a length of craypot rope and decided that I would tow the soaked motorcycle and rider back to Bunbury.
After we reached the road at Dungup Park, I suggested Fergie leave the bike in gear and much of the water would be purged from the engine by the time we got home. Several kilometres later the exhaust pipe showed signs of smoke, and a little further on the bike burst into life. The lights were not too flash, but the bike continued to keep running, and by the time we got home was running surprisingly well.
Fergie returned to live in Perth a couple of days later, and about a year afterwards we all decided to go to Broome for a holiday and take our bikes with us on a trailer behind Fergie's Nissan Patrol.
I took my own XL250 and exchanged my 750 to a Klaus Muller for a couple of weeks so I could take his XL also. When we loaded Fergie's Bultaco onto the trailer, I enquired as to what repairs were necessary after the dunking? Oh I just brought it home and put it in the shed!!!!!
When we got to Broome the bike performed perfectly. BUT DO NOT TRY THIS YOURSELF!

 FLAT TYRES
 At a Harvey enduro I once again found myself with Britza as a back marker and attempting to round up the opposition. The course took in a large pine plantation where the tracks were in good condition and allowed a fair turn of speed. On the down hill sections where the tracks crossed one another, these crossings presented exciting high speed jumps as we rode side by side down the hills. After a few jumps I found my normally good handling bike to be getting into dangerous wobbles as I landed. When the front inner tube tangled with my brake foot, I realised the trouble and stopped my bike. The tyre was dead flat, and the tube was hanging from the right hand fork leg completely outside of the tyre.
Britza saw my problem and decided that he would ride quietly with me to the check point where I would abandon the Enduro. It is surprising how one gets used to riding with no front tube, and after a while we found ourselves riding back near our original pace, although it was somewhat more hair-raising on the corners.
Britza was in the lead, and I did my best to stay in touch, when we headed down an inclined track which was covered with small brush and grass. All of a sudden we were presented with a large log across the track that lay on one bank leaving a gap of about eighteen inches under the log. Britza braked hard and skirted the log while I attempted the same, only to find that the bike was not stopping. A quick glance told me that although the front wheel was stopped, the tyre was still turning at fifty miles per hour. While I laid the bike down and ended up firmly wedged under the log, Britza continued on, oblivious to my predicament.

After extracting myself from under the log, I started the bike and slowly made for the checkpoint where I checked out of the event and proceeded home down the bitumen road, still without a front tube. I discovered that once at a reasonable speed the bike was not too bad to ride, except when trying to slow down or brake and it was particularly uncomfortable when the tyre left the rim at fifty miles an hour and jammed between the rim and the forks. I did however get home.

PIRATES?
Warren Cowell being a printer began producing arrows as well as printing the  instructions for the Enduros, and after having a few near misses of his own while taking the wrong turn, decided to also produce “wrong way” notices with a skull and cross bones to warn riders of impending dangers. On an enduro soon after these signs came into use, Peter Jefferies overshot a turn and was confronted by the skull and cross bones. Before fully realising the significance of the message, he found himself hurtling towards a place where a bridge used to be, which now represented just the piles in the water………..soon joined by Peter and his Suzuki.  

THE BLACK PANTHER……not a bike.
Many tales are heard of the “Cordering cougar” and the “Harvey lion”, but few people have actually seen these so called imaginary beasts. To my surprise, I was actually confronted by one of these animals while mapping an enduro in the Pile Road area in 1973. I had just climbed the 4x4 hill and was heading towards the “Power lines” along the fence line dividing the farmland from the forestry. It was late in the afternoon, and I was travelling at around fifty miles per hour along the relatively smooth and hard gravel track. The bike was fairly noisy, and it seemed to me that the cat had been near the fence line which was some distance from the track which was further back in the trees, and that the cat had been disturbed by the noise of the Honda.
There was a nice creek with clear water just ahead, so I decided to stop and have a drink from the creek before crossing. As I knelt down to drink from the creek, the cougar sprang from the bush on the other side of the water while making a dash from the fence line. The cat stopped on the other side of the creek which was only about twelve feet across and was as startled as I was to meet one another at such close quarters. It looked straight at me, and after regaining its composure, the cat leapt into the bush and disappeared almost immediately, leaving me agape at the close encounter I had just experienced.
I looked for tracks, but the ground was hard and dry, and getting late in the afternoon, the sun was low in the sky and light was not great. I looked on many occasions afterwards to find the animal but never saw it again.
Ray Trebley and Lloyd Offer were keen amateur photographers, and they also made many trips to the area to find it, but were also unsuccessful.
I advised the APB about my sighting, only to be told there was no such thing…….experts! They told me it was probably a dog?.........I told them that I was a dog owner and knew what dogs looked like!........Oh well;  it must have been a feral cat, they get big you know; I was told by the well educated officer. I can assure you that my eyes were well open as were those of the cat as we exchanged glances across the twelve foot expanse of water I said. He knew better, so this little episode has been shared only by those close to me and genuinely interested in the subject.
I have since shot some big bad feral moggies while working in the Great Sandy Desert in the late 70’s but never saw anything like that cat. For those interested, the cat was charcoal black and about the size of a Labrador dog, but heavier in build. It had a long thick tail which drooped down, and it had thick solid legs. Its head was somewhat like that of a lynx, with fairly large upright ears.
I got the impression that it was fairly young by both its size, and also by its kitten like appearance with soft looking fur. It showed no aggression to me, and after a good look of about ten seconds, bounded off into the bush. At that time very few people other than enduro riders entered that section of bush.
The many recorded sightings of these cats since that time all give the exact description of the cat that I saw in 1973.

 AND THEY DID OTHER THINGS………..

 STUNT RIDING AT AGRICULTURAL SHOWS.
One cannot waste a good motorbike when there are bright lights and spectators to impress.
This was the case with the Harvey and Brunswick shows where Bunbury Motorcycle Club members performed stunts to the delight of show goers, many who had never seen motorcycles used for anything other than rounding up cows and sheep.
Soon after the first stunt shows, which were comprised of whatever members who wanted to take part, a group of us began a proper stunt team with the main feature being Phil Bruce jumping over a row of (10)cars. The team consisted of Phil Bruce, Alan Mitchell, George Payne, Wayne Patterson and me.
The shows were broken into (2) brackets with the first being a show of “wheelies” (riding on the back wheel), and jumping over ramps, jumping over ramps through a wall of fire, and jumping through a wall of empty cans. My own specialty was riding on the back wheel while standing on the seat.
Wayne Patterson also specialised on Wheelies, and we would often wheelie side by side for some distance. This caused an immediate sensation, and was soon followed by other team and club members keen on learning the same skills.
That section was followed by Phil jumping over the cars which was preceded with a clown act on a stunt bike where the clown, who happened to be me, chased Phil over the ramp to jump the cars, with the clown abandoning the clown bike half way up the ramp. I am sure that some spectators actually thought that I was going to go over the cars on the little Kawasaki as well as Phil on the 250 Bultaco.
At the Brunswick show one year, as I jumped off the main ramp and let the stunt bike go, the throttle jammed wide open and the bike instead of falling over, careered at full speed towards a large group of spectators who had positioned themselves on the grass within the stunt area, against the strict instructions of the show organisers.
As the Bike sped towards the now panicking spectators, they somehow managed to split apart leaving a small path for the unfortunate Kawasaki to follow straight into the corner post of the Rodeo ring. That bike was never ridden again. This little incident proved to us the need to make certain that enthusiastic spectators kept well away from the activity.

WHEELIE COMPETITIONS
At a Narrogin scramble around the time that we were performing stunt shows, nominations were being taken for a wheelie competition at the Mandurah scramble to be held in the next month.
Both Wayne and I nominated, and I enquired as to whether I would be able to perform the wheelies standing on the seat?
The official taking nominations gave me a strange look, and said that we must ride with the front wheel off the ground.
I informed the man that this is what we intended, and he answered with a somewhat bewildered yes. At this time, there was no other stunt riding being performed in WA other than our team, and around then we had only performed at local country agricultural shows, so it was not surprising that the organizers and spectators alike had never seen our wheelie exploits.
When the competition was about to begin at Mandurah, the distance allowed for was about 20 meters and both Wayne and I intended traveling the full length of the main straight.
We approached the organizers and suggested that the run-up be from inside the pits at the top of the straight, so that we could wheelie the whole length including the dog-leg towards the end.
We were again confronted with a blank look, but they then decided that this would give the many spectators a better look at the action.
Several competitors then made their wheelie runs all well within the original 20 meter section.
Wayne then blasted out of the pits on the back wheel traveling the full length of the straight and around the dog-leg and the bottom corner.
I then did the same thing, but standing on the seat at the same time.
We both then returned from the bottom corner side by side both doing wheelies all the way back to the pits.
I have never seen so many cameras suddenly appear from a crowd, and have also never signed so many autographs.
Wayne later took up solo riding when the new Bunbury speedway got underway, and delighted spectators with his wheelies in the interval.

 ROAD RACING A MOTO-CROSS BIKE
 Each year the Bunbury Motorcycle Club held a Road Race on one of the various street circuits around the town. Glen Britza who somehow managed to compete in, and often win most events planned for a motorcycle, decided one year to ride his 400 cc Husky Moto-Cross bike in the Bunbury road race. The event that year was run on the “Glen Iris” circuit which then comprised a long straight down Vittoria Road, and was supplemented by the rather narrow winding Jeffery Road and Moorelands Avenue.
The only modification thought necessary by Britza to compete in this event was to step up the gearing a bit. To the utter dismay of many of the riders competing on road machines, Britza cleaned up the field which included several excursions into the dirt and gravel on the outside of corners in order to get past slower riders. Some riders complained that the knobbly tyres were unsafe on bitumen, so Britza fitted road tyres and went even faster at the next meeting. Then there were murmurings that the wide moto-cross handlebars made it too difficult for riders to pass him? …..so he fitted small flat bars and went faster still.
I never did see anyone close enough to even attempt to pass Britza on those country circuits, other than when some of the road race bikes ran him down for a short period towards the end of the main straights.

 “RUNNING IN” ROAD RACE BIKES
Brian Cartwright had recently moved from Perth to Bunbury, and it was not too long before we formed a race team comprising Ray Trebley, myself as a motorcycle mechanic working for Ray and “Carty” as rider. The group was also accompanied by a dedicated group of helpers who assisted in caring for and preparing the variety of machines we campaigned.
One of the many bikes that we played with was a CR750 Honda road race bike purchased by the West Australian branch of Honda Australia to make a name for Honda in local road racing events.
These bikes were produced by Honda in Japan to contest the 1968 Daytona road races in America, and were valued at that time at $16,000. This was a lot of money then, as a new 750 Honda road bike was sold for $1.325. 
The bike was first managed and tuned by a city team who after experiencing several serious “blow-ups” discarded the machine in pieces in the back storeroom of the Honda warehouse in Perth.
By this time Carty and I both owned 750 Hondas, my own always suspected as being “hotted up” because of its good performance.
Carty had proven his ability on these bikes by winning the first 3 hour production race to be held on the Wanneroo track in W.A. on a Ray Trebley (South West Honda World) sponsored 750 K1.
A meeting with Honda management saw us bring the CR and the remainder of the spares supplied with the bike down to Bunbury. While in pieces we decided to polish and “blueprint” the ports which surprisingly were only roughly dressed up.
We had been experimenting with JB fuel (60% alcohol /40% petrol) in some of the other bikes so decided that this was also the fuel for the CR.
Once assembled, it was decided that a good long run-in period coupled with some “jet and plug runs” would result in a fast and reliable machine…….we were correct!
We procrastinated over where we could carry out this exercise, and decided that we would ride the bike, accompanied by my own 750 Honda and the trusty “Water Pump” to Nannup and back.
As the bike was unlicensed and you can imagine the noise with (4) reverse cone megaphones, the road to Nannup was considered to be the best choice, being at that time fairly remote and relatively free of traffic.
This bike was a beast, and with a close ratio gearbox and high gearing for long circuits, would not travel slower than 60 MPH in top gear, while also being difficult to get off the mark in first without a good measure of revs and the associated wheel spin.
It looked nothing like a regular road bike, having a long fuel tank and a “duck tailed” seat, full fairing and clip on bars, and of course the exhaust system………it sounded like a squadron of B47’s taking off.
In order to disguise the bike as best as possible, we removed the fairing and fitted a rear view mirror to the right hand clip on, and a short piece of mudguard and tail light to the rear “duck tail”.
The front end was disguised by a dummy headlight, and a number plate from “somewhere” was bolted onto the rear.
To the astonishment of John Mealey senior’s neighbours, where the bike was stored in John’s shed, we set off early one morning with the trio of bikes and headed for Nannup. The CR was certainly fast and powerful, and when at full throttle it was impossible to retain your grip on the handlebars unless your backside was firmly lodged against the “duck tailed” seat. I have no idea of just what speed this bike was capable, but running against my own K1 750 which was good for 130 MPH there was not the slightest comparison.
We returned unscathed and un-arrested from this adventure, and the bike, ridden by Carty went on that year to create a sensation on the country circuits.

The CR750 HONDA........in road trim?

 OTHER “NOTICED” STUNTS
 To expand on my motorcycle activities, I purchased a “Kerr” framed speedway bike which was fitted with a 500 cc Matchless engine. This bike provided much fun on the salt lakes at Lake Preston. To feed my urge to modify things, I fitted a competition barrel and head, and a “Gardener” carby which was a flat slide arrangement with no float bowl, and consequently no means of making the engine idle. It was “all or nothing” and designed exactly for that!
William Street where I still live, at that time over 30 years ago only had a few houses on one side of the street and was a good venue for practising my starts on the speedway bike, on the bitumen road in the front of my house. The noise and activity always attracted a few spectators who were either interested motorcycle enthusiasts, or possibly annoyed neighbours who were investigating just who they were going to report to the police for disturbing the peace. On one occasion after making several passes up the street and being watched by a goodly amount of spectators, I made my last run, and without thinking, approached the centre of the road, and as I made the turn to enter my driveway still at quite a good speed, made a grab for the brakes and suddenly realised that I was not on my 750 Honda.
With a “speedway foot-peg” on the right hand side not allowing me to turn back, I promptly laid the bike down, and slid in a shower if sparks and smoke from the white line on the road, across my driveway and front lawn, and ended up against the front veranda of the house in the rose bushes.
Fortunately the only damage was done to my pride. The thrilled spectators clapped loudly as I wheeled the bike into the shed, and no doubt saw no further need to call the police.
 

 EL BANDIDO

   Skylarking on the Bultaco "El Bandido"    Dropped it......riding on the lake Preston salt

SALT LAKES
The salt lakes at Lake Preston were a lure to a variety of "Larrikins" riding and driving anything from Go-Karts, Hot-Rods, Beach Buggies, the occasional car, and of course Motor-Bikes.
I spent the odd weekend there with my Go-Kart, and on one occasion a Kart got away at full throttle with no driver and was finally discovered quite some distance away smashed into one of the only large trees in the area close to the lake.
Many enjoyable days were spent on trail bikes, and later on when I bought my ‘Matchy" solo bike Phil Bruce, Alan Mitchell, Glen Britza and I would "burn up the salt" on that bike.

The speedway "Matchy" Brian McRea in leathers, Glen Britza sun glasses, Ian Cartwright foreground 

It was at the salt lakes where I began doing wheelies on my Bultaco El Bandido, kneeling on the seat, which developed into "Standing on the seat wheelies" later in our stunt team shows.
Even though nobody, or any property was ever harmed at those salt lakes, the "Authorities" eventually managed to halt this harmless activity.
I had been riding my 250 Kawasaki Sidewinder at club events for a while, when Ray Trebley took on the Bultaco agency through Lloyd Chapman Motorcycles in Perth. Ray bought me a 350 cc Bultaco El Bandido to ride in both Club and State events, and also in our first stunt shows. The bike was certainly fast, but although a good bike on relatively hard tracks did not suit the sandy Bunbury terrain that we rode on as it was a bit heavier than the other bikes of the day. It did however provide me with a good reliable and fast bike that was really faster than my own riding skills had yet developed. Full of enthusiasm, some of us decided that we would present a new look to the spectators and purchased the first “coloured riding leathers” in Bunbury, and I believe the State.
Phil Bruce had yellow, Alan Mitchell green, Gary Britza blue and I had orange.
To compliment the orange trousers, I also had an orange top made with El Bandido and the Bultaco El Bandido emblem emblazoned on it in black and white. I was known from that time on as El Bandido, and although not one of the top riders, often found a number of spectators wanting autographs. I rode that bike in events all over the State with mixed results depending on the track type and condition. Over the years I have met many of my old riding competitors and Moto-Cross spectators who still greet me as El Bandido.
Some research recently told me that the bike is now in a collection in Victoria.    

 WE TRIED CARS FOR A WHILE……

                                                      
The little car took a lot of punishment among the bigger competitors

 As I began to find my place within the competition, I was offered sponsorship, again by Ray Trebley to build and race one of the newly released 600 cc Honda Scamp cars on “Blicks” that time the local speedway. Ray had by then taken on the Honda car agency, and I considered that this would supplement my Honda motorcycle career. After a short search we found an almost new, damaged Scamp which Ray purchased and we began work on it immediately.  
We built the little car with a full roll-cage which was fortunate, and I promptly began winning most of the races. I drove the little car pretty hard, and won a prise for rolling on ten separate occasions in that season. The spectators loved it, and I soon had a large following with local newspaper write ups on an almost weekly basis.
As the Car Club also held mechanic’s races, and I happened to be the mechanic that kept Phil Bruce’s bikes going, and we often shared our bikes, I suggested to him that he drive for me as my mechanic. Phil had recently written off his GS Falcon in a head on collision and had also end-for-ended my Fairlane on a late trip home from Perth, so it was evident to me that he was not intimidated by speed or potential accidents.
Phil drove as my mechanic, and although he did not know one end of a spanner from the other, won many of the mechanic’s races.
Britza also began taking an interest, so we suggested that he have a drive as a mechanic………well he was a panel beater…….
He said that he had never raced cars, however after telling him that all that had to be done was hold it flat out, and get it sliding as soon as possible, then point it where he wanted it to go, he started driving, and immediately began winning races.
My younger sister Allyson also shared the car in the “Ladies Races” and won many of these.
I won the South West Championships in the Scamp that year. 
I have never ceased my admiration for those little Honda cars, as it did not stop all day, and was driven hard in all of the races. We only raced the car for that season, as the track was being closed, and the new Bunbury Speedway was to be built next to the Moto-Cross track.

This car was brand new only a few months earlier

 A VERSATILE COMPETITOR
The next little episode was told to me by Denis Crane as we stood looking down the hill at the Northam Moto-Cross circuit, and watching the sidecar activity…….. Britza was of course riding his Ariel outfit.

Riders at Northam Motorcycle Track.......left to right:
Ray Buck. Brian McRae. Phil Bruce. Glen Britza
Britza appears to be recounting the story about Denis Crane's ride!   (Photo Ray Truman)

In the previous year at Northam, Britza’s passenger had become sick and could not ride, so Britz approached Dennis who had raced motorcycles in England before coming to Australia, and out here he had also proved himself in most aspects of motorcycle racing. He had however never ridden on sidecars, and although ridden against, had never ridden with Britza. Britz assured Dennis that he would take it easy and only compete in order to gain starting points for his quest for the State titles.
Dennis had full faith that Britza would stick to his promise and ride slowly and also believed that Britz had every intention of doing so until……the race started. It was at this point that Dennis recalled heading to the crest of the hill where we were now standing, and at full noise they left the ground where Dennis found himself floating, without a grip high above the sidecar. Taking all of this within his stride, Britza simply grasped Dennis by the seat of his leathers with one hand, and continued racing at full speed down the hill while controlling the outfit with the other hand.
Dennis said that he was never sure whether Britza’s firm grip on his leathers was to save his life, or to simply avoid disqualification for riding without a passenger. They finished the race, and probably also won, but Dennis assured us that this was the one and only time he would ride passenger on an outfit.

 LESSONS LEARNED
The elusive demon….spark plug seizure
This little known phenomena; first raised its head to me when I was riding the “2 stroke Honda Dream” and by learning of, and understanding the problem proved a major bonus in my coming years as a motorcycle racer and performance tuner. I had been finding the 2 stroke engine in the Honda to be developing a slight “miss” when hot and at speed. One night while riding fast, I noticed sparks coming from the exhaust, and concluded that the pipes and cylinder head were in need of de-carbonising. I took the bike home, and as I required it to travel to work the following day, proceeded to remove the pipe baffles and the cylinder head to facilitate the removal of the carbon build up. The engine was “hung” in the frame similar to the original 4 stroke, and had a bracket attached to the head bolts to complete this mounting. While removing this bracket, I happened to break the spark plug, which I removed and threw into the rubbish bin.
After re-assembling the engine, I selected a spark plug from my go-cart parts and fitted it to the Jawa engine in the Honda. While riding to work the following morning, I was surprised to find the engine apparently seizing half way along Strickland Street which was at that time a long narrow road between the farms on the way to Glen Iris. Once stopped, the bike began to idle OK, so I continued on to work keeping an anxious ear to the engine. Again on the way home the engine appeared to seize, so by slowing down the symptoms disappeared and I was able to get home with no more trouble.
After mealtime and when the bike had cooled down, I removed the cylinder expecting to find a damaged piston, only to find nothing wrong. Bewildered I put the engine together and again headed to work the following morning. At almost the same place in Strickland Street the next morning the bike did the same thing. That night I stripped the clutch and drive train expecting to find the trouble, but again nothing, so I completely stripped the engine and gearbox only to find everything in good condition. I reassembled the whole thing, and set off for work again the next morning with exactly the same outcome as before.
After a series of simple eliminations, I realised that the only thing different was the spark plug that I had taken from the go-cart tool box. A study of a heat range chart showed me that the plug that I had used was one range hotter than the previous plug so I replaced it with the original heat range number. To my delight, the bike was back to where it was before, although still with the high speed miss, and the sparks coming from the exhaust pipes when hot.
“A lesson had been learned”; so I replaced the plug with one of a lower heat number and the bike never performed so well. This lesson in spark plug heat ranges proved to be a bonus when resolving the problems that Kawasaki trail bikes experienced with holes burned into pistons a little later in my motorcycle activities. 

That couple of years later I was riding my 90 cc Kawasaki in an enduro, and was making a vain attempt to catch Ray Buck who was then riding a 125cc Yamaha. We were on a gravel road and I had the little bike flat out and doing about sixty miles per hour. As I peeled into a long sweeping corner and as the bike broke into a nice controlled slide, the engine suddenly seized, and which sent me “down the road” and into the scrub still hanging onto the bike.
When I picked up the bike and dusted myself off and straightened the necessary levers and things, the bike started and ran perfectly. Here again was the old enemy…….spark plug seizure.
By changing from an NGK B7HS to a B8HS solved the problem and I never experienced it again on that bike. 

ROUGH ON BIKES!

            
Soon after beginning to ride in the enduros I bought an almost new Kawasaki 250 Sidewinder that the owner had traded back after only 80kms as the bike had burned a hole in the piston.
I stripped the bike and lightened it up for a Moto-Cross bike. I also made and fitted an expansion chamber to the exhaust. This was my first Moto-Cross bike and the only Kawasaki on our local track at the time.
While taking the “Hairpin” on the Bunbury track in a club race, I was suddenly left sitting in the middle of the track with no bike. Much to my surprise and to the amazement of the rest of the riders, the bike had broken in two and one half was on each side of the track.
By adding a bit of reinforcement the “Kawaka” was back on the track at the next meeting, and served well until the end of that season when John Mealey bought it as a Club Moto-Cross bike prior to his Bultaco Matador. I have no idea where this now rare bike ended up.
A few years later when I was riding a 250 cc MK/4 Bultaco Pursang at the Ravenswood track, I suddenly noticed the bike having difficulty accelerating up the main straight. When I stopped the bike, I found that I had broken the frame and the engine was dragging deeply into the track.
I believe that the stunt riding put a lot of stress on that bike.
The remains of that bike eventually went to make up the vintage 250 Bultaco road-racer, built and ridden by Steve Turner.
The Bultaco was not quite as dramatic as the Kawasaki incident but I do not know of any other rider who has broken “two” bikes in half.

HOW TO KILL A HUSKY!
Alan Mitchell was a dedicated Husky rider and a regular A grade rider competing at both Bunbury and all State events.
He was also a member of our stunt team.
At a Bunbury Club event when Alan was approaching the "Camel-Jump" the throttle slide came out of the carby on the bike and left him on full throttle, "and a bit more" as he hit the twin jumps at a terrific speed.
After clearing the jumps he ground the bike down to a slower speed with his brakes while the throttle was wide open and revving hard, and as the brakes were not having any success in stalling the bike, he managed to maneuvers it into a large tree in an attempt to pull it up.
The bike however had different ideas, and proved to be a wild creature to control and escaped, again still at full throttle and doing about 10,000 revs.
After it had bounced of several trees, cars and assorted obstacles, I finally lay down, with the rear wheel wildly spinning and the machine leaping in all directions as other riders and on-lookers attempted to stop it.
One brave individual managed to rip off the spark plug lead but the engine continued to scream, running on "Maverick" and showing no signs of stopping.
With no slide or needle in the carby the engine appeared to "hunt" until it finally screamed into oblivion.
As the dust settled, somber riders surveyed the useless destruction of this almost new machine.
John Kirkpatrick was the Husky dealer and "Expert" who looked after these excellent bikes, and soon had the unfortunate machine re-built for the next meeting.
It is worthy of note that Glen Britza and Ray Truman shared the first 400 cc Husky in Bunbury, and Ray’s wife Pam had the job of picking up the bike from Perth when it arrived.

3 WHEELERS!!
Over the years I had built a variety of 3 wheelers from 250 cc and 500cc BSAs, and a 305 Honda Dream.
While in hospital and contemplating my release and not being able to walk, I planned a fishing trip to Carnarvon with my Bultaco riding photographer mate "Fergie".
I had a 350 cc Honda road bike in the shed, so decided that this will be the new trike.
The trike was to be my method of traveling along the beach to fish while staying on Gnaraloo station north of Carnarvon.
The trike had sprint car front wheels for the rear wheels with a 400/18 knobby tire on the front.
The host bike had been twigged a bit and was good for around 90 mph so in retrospect was probably not the best choice.
The other choice was a spare 750 Honda which would probably have been a worse choice given the outcome.
The finished effort looked pretty good with custom paintwork and chopper handlebars and all of the original bike accessories.
With the firm wide tires the bike required a bit of speed to get up sand hills, but on the beach on the soft sand was great.
The story however was entirely different on hard tracks of any surface, as the live rear axel would steer the trike in the direction that the thing was facing, irrespective of where the front wheel was pointing.

                                                                    
Fergy tries the 3 wheeler on the sand. Station owner Tony found it difficult on the hard surface

Some solo bike and Moto-cross experience showed me that as long as the throttle was on, and the rear wheels spinning, it could be steered somewhat like a solo bike, but when the throttle was eased, the trike would immediately head in the direction the rear wheels were facing and often leading to an embarrassing up ending.
As the days went on, I gradually expanded my explorations of the station on the trike, and sometimes of quite some distance.
On one occasion I traveled some distance down the beach and eventually came to a point where the reef extended to the beach and I was forced to look for a passage over the very high sand hills that separated the beach from the airfield that I reckoned was on the other side of those hills.
I chose a place where I considered the hills to be the lowest, and with a good run-up blasted up the sand hill coming to the top and finding an almost sheer drop of about 100 feet.
Fortunately I was almost stopped when I reached the top, which prevented my flight over the edge.
I was correct in my calculation in the locality of the airstrip which had a good track back to the homestead, so surveyed my position so to choose a safe place to cross the sand hills from my elevated position, and return by that track.
Further along the beach there appeared a place where the sand hills had a similar decent to the place where I would attempt my climb, so I worked my way back down again and headed for that place.
Once again I was faced with attaining a fair speed so to complete the climb, so wound up the trike and blasted up the hill to find..........a sheer drop of about 100 feet.......and I was going too fast to stop and went over the edge!
We both parted company, and I actually landed in the sand about half way down on the steep slope and rolled harmlessly to the bottom.
The trike was a little less fortunate and landed upside down in a tree about 8 feet off the ground with petrol, oil and battery acid dripping from it.
My crutches were also at the bottom of the hill near me so I hobbled to the tree with the trike in it.
I was still unable to walk at this time, and was actually not supposed to ever walk.....hence the trike.
I was still a good 10 kilometers from the station, and no-body really knew where I was, so had to get it down!
I had a large pocket knife with me so managed to climb the tree (large wattle bush) and found that a limb of about two inches thick was jammed between the engine and frame and firmly held the trike in the tree.
I managed to eventually hack this limb away with my knife, and tipped the trike from the tree where it landed upside down still leaking petrol and oil.
After managing to tip it over, I tried to start it but there was no power, and I was unable to kick start it.
Lifting the seat showed that the battery lead had broken at the battery terminal with the large upside down jolt, and without tools to do any repairs, I held the lead to the terminal and hit the button, and it started ...........but with a lot of smoke.
Once going, it kept running as long as I kept the revs up, but pretty roughly, probably because it was running straight off the alternator without the battery connected.
When finally reaching the station the trike was getting pretty sloppy, and inspection showed that the frame had been broken.......there we go again.
Wisdom showed through after this, and I repaired the trike and swapped it for a year-old 850 Norton Commando.
After some months I began to walk again be it slowly, and fortunately had no more need for a trike which would have probably eventually killed me had I kept riding it.
The new owner was afraid to take the trike out of second gear and eventually blew up the engine which probably also saved his own skin.

    This little Suzuki outfit was safer!            Miaboolya Beach Carnarvon
                                      Rider Brian, passenger Brett (Photo Kevin Benson)

After living in Carnarvon for a little while I found the need for a vehicle in order to travel along the beach for fishing once more, and also for the regular wild goat shooting excursions where it was necessary to carry the game back to our vehicles.
The little Suzuki "Fat Wheeler" made an ideal host for a sidecar and this little outfit served me well for my stay in that town. When I was about to leave Carnarvon for further north, the caravan park owner asked me to sell the bike to him so to use it around the park. Almost 30 years later I saw the same bike in the back of a utility as I was driving down Orrong Road in Perth.   

THE 12 STRING GUITAR
In 1974 when I was seriously injured in a collision with a car on the way home from an enduro, I eventually spent 18 months recovering in hospital which included 6 months in the Shenton Park Annex of Royal Perth Hospital.
Once out of intensive care and able to see visitors, I was regularly visited by club members, and also received many cheerios through the local radio station where fellow enduro and 360 Yamaha rider Mike "The Bike" Warren worked as an announcer.
When realizing the serious nature of my condition, and discovering that I would be confined to hospital for a long time, the Bunbury Motorcycle Club ran an enduro for the specific purpose of raising money to assist with my position.
Many of the riders donated well over the entry fee so to assist me in hospital.
I used the proceeds of that enduro to purchase a 12 string guitar which I learned to play as therapy to help me cope with my long and painful stay in hospital.
Over the years I have continued with my guitar playing, and see it as one of the best things that I have ever taken on.
When I returned from the North West in 1978 where I had gone to recover from my injuries and re-learn to walk again, I was invited to attend a function at the Club after the running of a National enduro event.
I was asked to entertain the crowd with my guitar which gave me immense satisfaction to show the members how the money that they raised had benefited me, and to show the visiting riders the high standard of the club in which they were guests.
I wrote a song for that occasion about the Bunbury enduros which was followed by a standing ovation
I still treasure that instrument and play it regularly.

The above story is an on going article which I hope to publish once finalized and  when time allows.
Riders from, and who were active in Bunbury at the time of the bulk of this article are invited to contact me to have their recollections included in the final print.
I have some difficulty with my memory of that time due to head injuries sustained in 1974 and would appreciate input for the benefit of a record for those competitors.

Brian 

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