How To Hit A Geyser On The Hiway

(22 May 2014)

Sooo… after pulling myself towards myself, I have decided to still do this month’s newsletter. However, it will not be a ride report – but rather a crash report.

Firstly, I want you to concentrate on the center of the image below…

*This newsletter will not dispirit you from riding a bike. You will be forever fearless to go BRAAAAPPP!!!*

I was planning on doing a ride to the KayZeteNe. A few guys down there said they know a really awesome track to a hidden waterfall in the bush.

Plan was to leave on Friday morn and make my way down there, but I had time to spare on Thursday and decided to just get out of Gomorrah on Thursday – then have the whole of Friday to make my way down to that big dam they call an ocean.

My guardian angels didn’t smaak this plan and they decided to gang up against me. They firstly gave Brom the flu. He did not want to turn over??? After trying all the ticks and buttons, I decided to hand him over to someone that knows a bit more about a horse with wheels.

I phoned Mike Puzey at Biker’s Warehouse, but… the angels knoop-ed all the cell lines and I couldn’t phone out.

Finally I got hold of Mike, who said I should bring the bike – he’ll have a quick look and fix.

Mike loaded Brom on the clinic’s table and poked around with his stethoscope before finding a fuel line disconnected. Plugged in the Aorta and we were ready to roll.

I had a quick cuppa, loaded all my luggage (…which consisted of a bikini and a swimming towel), and I dashed out of there.

As I climbed on the highway the traffic was heavy, but flowing. The cars were all nice and friendly making way (…they probably had some lekker tjunes on the radio). I was smiling, looking forward to my trip.

This did NOT please my angels. They were getting desperate, not knowing how on earth they could stop me. Nothing seemed to do the trick.

In a last second attempt the main angel ordered the others to throw me with something. They looked around, but couldn’t find anything…

He screamed at them to use anything… a toaster… a kettle… a blerrie jaffel iron… ANYTHING!

Then they saw it………………….


Not an old toppie ‘geyser’…

Not a person with the surname ‘Geyser’…

A GEYSER – as in that big tank thing that warms your water!

They klapped it off the back of a rubbish truck and landed it right between the two lanes of cars. There where I was merrily lane-splitting, minding my own piece of tar.

I saw this silver thing; and with a truck on my left and a car on my right – I could only go straight. In that brief second I was hoping that it was something soft like a space blanket. Whatever a space blanket would be doing in the middle of the hi-way… but then again – not like I expected a geyser there either.

The moment I connected it, I knew this was gonna make a beeeeeeeg dent. In my bike, in my body and in my wallet!

As I took a lift-off into space, the main angel nearly had a heart attack. Even in heaven they can’t rely on assistants.

He swooped down and as the car behind me locked his wheels, he rolled me into a little ball. He pushed the car into the cement middle-man and when everything came to a less rolling motion, I hopped out of the road onto the middle barrier. Still hearing the cars screeching behind me.

The guy in the ‘barrier’-car got out, looked at his front wheel and left??? The rubbish truck stopped for a split second and decided to rather get out of there. Nobody else stopped. Everybody just crawled past me and Brom… probably didn’t want to be late for that once in a lifetime appointment with the dentist.

Brom was lying there in the fast lane, spewing blood all over the place. He was dying…

I took off my helmet hoping that someone would stop because I’m a chicken. Two guys pulled over, one already phoning the medics.

Within seconds there were paramedics, cops, ambulances, tow-truck drivers!

I was swearing in a vocabulary that not even Secunda mine-workers know. I tried crying, hoping that it would stop me from vloek-ing so much, but I managed to squeeze out a lousy 3 tears.

The paramedic finally convinced me to partake in the 50-Shade-Of-Grey exercise and get strapped to a board.

Mike sent Craig to fetch Brom. But the ambulance didn’t want to wait any longer and there were no extra space in the Plus-Bus for Brom to go with me to see a doctor. Sanral then moved him to the outside of the hi-way where Craig later picked him up.

Apparently the word got out quickly about the KNOCK-OUT sale at Giloolys on household appliances. Everybody was queuing to get there!

The ride to the hospital was fun – they had the pee-paw on and alles!

After a few x-rays and cleaning of roasties, I was okay-ed and allowed to hop home.

Louré came to fetch me and when I got home, I saw a pink feather stuck in my scarf. My angel really worked hard today!

Mike has dissected Brom and made a list of horse parts I need to get him back up and galloping again. Anybody have any of these things lying around – please gooi me with them (…I’m getting used to ducking for odd objects).


Front wheel (or just HUB and disk for re-lace)

Head light Mask + Light

2 RH indicators

New RH foot peg


Oil cooler support bracket (cooler looks fine)

LH mirror


Oh… how I hate roasties! One day when I die, I’m gonna ask, “Pumpkin and roasties… what were you thinking?!?”


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