5th gear - nzcsc wellington 2003

meet point: retro scooters, mt eden road

petrol & pie stop no. 8

brooke bond vespa mechanic, on call 24hr's

brooke bond nappy changer, on call 24hr's

best scooter: alan's li150

piston ported vespa's rule,
mike salmons gs210

base of mt taranaki (egmont)

high sided by a disgruntled lml vespa

for evil nikolai, just add 'tui'

the scooter paparazi

creative camper (identity concealed) with accelerant

fire ball as seen from maui gas platform

camp ground at oakura,
beutiful spot facing north towards new plymouth

well it all started with Jaxy bein almost an hour late for our departure, apparently drinking the night before was more important than getting ready. so we waited....don't know where his priorities are at considering the two days of drinking he had ahead of him.

The first gas stop was huntly and we hooked up with Paul Sheridan and his mate Mal from the UK. So our numbers swelled from Coch, Ryan, Michael D, Jaxy, Damien.... to 7. After a bit of riding Mal realised that his superior pie carrying circumference was a bit much for the 1 fiddy sprint so onto the chetak special. There was patches of drizzle but nothing to write home about. Riding through the back roads from Ngaruawahia toward Pirongia, i had a grumpy cow cocky wave his fist and point at his head like he was mad. He was trying to pass me down a hill, and could barely summon it out of his shitty triumph 2500 - me with my arse saluting the sun and eyes somewhere behind my headset. We all caught each other again at Otorohanga and stopped for gas and bragged with a honda blackbird rider about how fast our scoots were. Next stop was Te Kuiti and lunch at a roach infested truck stop that i won't do my body the injustice of stopping at again. Jaxy swore to me that his order hadn't included the roach but you can't trust those weird arse asians of questionable decent. The next bit was getting exciting as we were heading toward the gorge i'd been waiting for. Neil Wasp Factory had a gun pointed at him on the way toward the national park turnoff, and thankfully round the next corner was a cop to send after the playful pup with a pistol. At Pio Pio we gassed up again thinking it was further through the gorge to awakino than i thought. 35k corner after 45 k corner beaconed, and my std clubman has some taranaki gravel rash imbedded in it somewhere. Michael Davies on his Clone, didn't have a show in the corners, though due to my conservative and very rich tuning, he got me on the straights. This was ok cause i'd just parasite in behind him till the next bends and leave him for a while again. We were now on the coast, shortly to be greeted by a bunch of cops and a guy so surprised to be passed in his Merc by a scooter that he drove into a bank, i made that up?! Sweet ride down!

We made camp and lit a bonfire that was to burn for the next 2 days straight. Boozin was good the first night, but I pulled off the ultimate of Armstrong acts. Having thought i could lean up my scooter a bit, pulled the carb and through my drunken efforts managed to toss the needle circlip into the grass............ no worries lock wire and pliers.......... ah no, back firing shizen scooter!

My cajun cousin came down in the morning after i'd offered to come round and rape his kawasaki triple for a needle clip. He was brandishing the most excellent of magnets and as our exploratory zone expanded to three metres from the bike....clink the clip was on his magnet. I could've kissed him, but you gotta watch the cajuns eh rupert?! The weather that day proved to be squally showers rolling in off the sea all morning. This aside we set off down the coast away from New Plymouth to find a dodgy road up the side of mt Egmont. The road was fucken awesome, though wet and misty looking. It was a narrow single chain road, chains an old pommy measurement for the unintiated, with cuttings through old mossy hillsides. Had awesome hairpins, greasy bridges and straights through cuttings that made the clubman exhaust drown out all those annoying kiwis.

The games that afternoon after the compulsory six to seven beers were excellent. The soberest man on site, aaron gill won the slow race but burned his clutch, that'll learn him dirty clutch rider. Joe was my excellently balanced counterweight on the slow race. In the fast race, team auckland with an equal weightin of sprinty lammies and vestas, kicked ass, i even managed to bottom the lammie shocks racing back and doing a jump.

Next of the night was the most important prize giving and drinking, eating taking a sad last. Ryan aka wayne, left his squirrel head helmet behind, but that fur suit got him in trouble later round the camp fire as the punters drifted off to bed and he was left with the two dodgiest men on site, Coch and Brookes (sounds strangely like a cooking show).

So we had a ball, only drunk people fell off, Ryan, Brookes, Cochran, and being in sandy wet grass, no one was hurt. The ride home was long and arse aching and i'll be contacting ScootRs today for the time travel attachment, either that or nitrous. There were no gun presentations on the way home, just a wanker in a Range rover with inadequacy problems wanting a scooter attachement for his bonnet crest. suck my twostroke weener penis

see you on the wrongside of the white line


wasabi peas	scretching anyone	for evil nikolai, just add 'tui'	the scooter paparazi	mashed

a camp fire	creative camper (identity concealed) with accelerant	fire ball as seen from maui gas platform	camp ground at oakura, beutiful spot facing north towards new plymouth
thanks damien, paul, jess & me for the images + matt the "coch" for his spiel...