I learned to ride in 1961 as part of my job. Later on my skill set no longer required motor cycle riding. Nortons and Triumps became a thing of the past for me.
Fast forward to 1990 and my motor cycle licence was reissued. SWMBO also qualified that year and we have been riding ever since.
Suzukis, Hondas, Triumphs, BMW’s and Harleys have all graced our garages over the years. SWMBO disliked the Hondas and the Triumphs but the big BMW suited her perfectly.
I became Life Members of the Harley Owners Group way back in 1991 and SWMBO became a Lady of Harley and a Life Member in 1998 as she was regularly riding my Harley.
SWMBO rode my 327 kilo(dry) Heritage Softail Classic almost daily for three months in 1999 while I was recovering from major surgery. I reckon it was the real beginning of her Harley love affair which culminated with her Sportster purchase in 2003.
Here is an image of SWMBO’s HOG vest. 2017’s rocker has only just arrived and is yet to be sewn on.
FRONT BACK : NOTE THAT SWMBO HAS RACKED UP OVER 80,000 MILES ON HER HARLEY.
Here are a few shots of SWMBO’s own bikes and images of a few of the rides she has been on.
SWMBO’s SUZUKI 500SWMBO’s BMW R1100RSSWMBO’S HARLEY-DAVIDSON SPORTSTER CUSTOM 1200SWMBO AND THE GANG OUTSIDE THE WELLSHOT HOTEL, FAR WEST QUEENSLAND.ON A TRIP TO THE NORTHERN TERRITORY. ON ANOTHER RIDE, THIS TIME TO THE THEORETICAL BIRTH PLACE OF THE AUSTRALIAN LABOUT PARTY- FAR WEST QUEENSLAND.BACK TO THE TERRITORY FOR A HOG RALLY IN DARWIN.
Who knows what other images of SWMBO I’ll uncover as my clear out of the studio continues.
SWMBO found the transition to forward controls on her Harley a little disconcerting after riding so many miles on her Beemer.
For the first few weeks of ownership, we did many rides just concentrating on braking, normal and emergency stops, slow speed manouvering and all the usual things riders do when riding something different for the first few hundred miles or so.
I’d purchased SWMBO an open face helmet to go with the Harley but it didn’t take long for the open face helmet to be relegated to the cupboard and replaced with her favourite, the multi coloured full face.
It wasn’t long before SWMBO was totally familiar with the forward controls, gear box operation and vibration in the lower gears and was as proficient on the road as she had been on her Beemer.
Here are a few images I made during those maiden voyages.
BACK IN THE FULL FACE HELMET.GIVING THE OPEN FACE ONE LAST TRY.ARE WE THERE YET?WHERE’S THE COFFEE SHOP?SIZE DOES MATTERTHIS IS WHY!TAKING PRIME SPOT IN THE GARAGE. FIRST IN BEST DRESSED.
This short yarn is of SWMBO’s acquisition of her first Harley Davidson not long after her love affair with her 75th Anniversary BMW R1100 lost its lustre.
In May, 2003 SWMBO accompanied me to Frasers Motor Cycles in Sydney where I intended to purchase some chrome knick knacks for my 2003, 100th Anniversary Harley Davidson Heritage Softail Classic. As any Harley owner will tell you, accessories, particularly of the chrome plated variety are essential purchases. I had to have them.
Immediagtely on entering the showsroom, SWMBO saw a 2003 100th Anniversary Harley-Davidson XL 1200 Custom Sportster hanging on a wall. All thoughts of my knick knacks suddenly evaporated. Next time, I thought.
SWMBO purred at the sign of the two tone silver and black Anniversary paint job.
THIS IS THE 100th ANNIVERSARY SPORTSTER THAT CAUGHT SWMBO’s EYE.
“I have to have it” SWMBO informed me. I agreed, of course. Then she informed Greg, our favourite salesman. He agreed, of course.
SWMBO bought the Sportster. There and then. No haggling, no dilly dallying. The salesman was impressed. Of course. I was impressed. Of Course.
The Sportster was still on the showroom wall.
LOOK AT THE SMILES. SWMBO LOVED THE CHROME.
Greg pointed out some essential accessoriesd. SWMBO had to have them. They were essential.
By the following afternoon, SWMBO’s Harley was registered and ready to go. The essential new engine guard, removable windscreen and other accessories had all been fitted.
On arrival at the dealership, the Sportster stood gleaming on the showroom floor. It looked magnificent So pert. So cute.So shiny. So sporty.
SWMBO’s DREAM MACHINE COMPLETE WITH REMOVABLE WINDSHIELD.
It was photo time and SWMBO obliged by posing on her new Sporty.
FITS LIKE A GLOVELET’S GO.
From the saddle, SWMBO said,’My new Harley feels so good!’ I told her she looked good. The salesman told her she looked good. It’s important to look good. It’s a Harley.
Then a another great surprisae occurred. ‘Just by chance,’ our long time riding mate, ‘Russ,’ turned up out of the blue and headed straight for us. ‘I’ve come to see your new Harley,’ he said to SWMBO.
Of course, she immediately hopped off and offered a pose shot to Russ. He obliged. Of course.
RUSS ON SWMBO’S NEW SPORTSTER.
Suddenly the Service Manager rushed up and told SWMBO that the sissy bar and luggage rack hadn’t been fitted. Calm as a cucumber SWMBO handed him the keys and twenty minutes later her bike was back, ready to go, gooides installed.
So, it was finally time to leave. SWMBO was anxious to leave. Russ was ready to leave. I was ready to leave. The new Sportster was ready to leave. We all left.
SWMBO was on her new Harley, I was on my almost new Harley. Russ was in his car. He never owned a Harley.
Sadly Russ has now ridden on.
Now you may wonder why, after almost 14 years have passed, this blog has appeared.
It’s all because the shedding of ‘stuff’ is still ongoing at Casa Creakingbones and I came across these images as part of my studio clean out. They brought back so many great memories of people, places and events.
Please don’t pull the plug on Random Ravings From An Old Bloke Downunder just yet. There’s more to come.
The Great Cassa Creakingbones decluttering program continues apace. Propelled by the high outside temperatures hovering around 35-38 centigrade and air conditioned inside comfort at 22 centigrade an incentive exists to sort my slides and remaining negatives.
Unfortunately, many, many slides of past adventures have simply disappeared, not surprising when you take into account all of the moves, changes and events that have taken place personally over the past sixty years or so.
Fortunately quite a number of slides from my 1976 Middle East adventure have survived and here are a few of them.
Camped near the main colonnade at Petra, Jordan.Looking towards the Treasury through the Sik, Petra.The Theatre Area, Petra.A Bedouin camp near Mt Nebo en route to the Wadi RummThe Wadi Rumm looking south.A lone Bedouin on his camel coming in for a chat.High on the Kings Highway looking south towards the cost.Now in Damascus, Syria, looking at the busy fruit and vegetable markets on a week day.Not exactly the most tidy street in Damascus.A busy laneway in Damascus. Not a lot of natural light reaches the ground.Men of all ages wander around holding hands as a sign of strong friendship. One bloke told me they seldom see westerners wandering along these back lanes.A street photographer at work, down town Damascus.
In 1976, Damascus was a wonderful city to visit and observe the locals going about their daily routines. Great food, fabulous coffee, fascinating street scenes and friendly, curious people made my stay in the city truly memorable. Never once did I feel unsafe .
Turkey was next stop and this border crossing was typical throughout the Middle East, with border crossings into Israel being the exception.
The Syria/Turkey border crossing.
With any luck, slides of some of Jordan and Syria’s fabulous archeological sites will turn up soon so, until then,
In 2016, our local U3A introduced a walking for health program and from is members a Ramblers’ program has also emerged.
Then, a month or so ago, one of the walker/ramblers purchased a sit on, single seat kayak to paddle on our local rivers and extend the U3A physical activity programs.
To that end, he is actively encouraging members to purchase a kayak and join him on paddling our rivers and dams.
Sit on kayaks are a fairly recent phenomena and their use in river, estuary and ocean fishing has spread to recreation paddling. Part of their appeal is the fact that they don’t require the paddler to possess the same degree of skill or fitness as those who paddle enclosed kayaks.
Most of the sit ons are of fairly modest dimensions, are light enough to easily lift onto a car, don’t require a rudder, are constructed of plastic and are quite robust and well kitted out for comfort. Perhaps their most appealing element is their relatively low price right across the extensive range.
She Who Must Be Obeyed and I are both members of the walker/rambler groups and have discussed buying a couple of sit ons and resuming paddling. Prima facie it seemed quite attractive but some doubt remained.
Hence todays heading , ‘To Kayak or Not to Kayak?’
Back in the dream time we were very active sea kayakers and foundation members of the NSW Sea Kayakers Club Inc.
Here is an image of our two single ‘Seafarer’ kayaks and our ‘Seafarer Double.’We nicknamed her, ‘The Queen Mary’, because of hers enormous size. Our Seafarers were 19 feet long and you can see how they were dwarfed the the Q.M.
SWMBO’s is the top yellow decked Seafarer, mine the orange decked, and of course the monster is the Q.M.
The thrills of open water paddling are still fresh in our minds even though more than twenty years have passed since we gave paddling away and sold our beloved kayaks.
Our longest paddle was of three weeks duration when we set out from Airlie Beach near Bowen in North Queensland and paddled around Gloucester Island, Hayman Island, Whitsunday Island and Shaw Island in the Whitsundays Group of the Great Barrier Reef.
Camping under the stars in this tropical paradise should be on everyones’ bucket list.
Sydney Harbour was a regular location and we often paddled up and down the coast from our base near Cronulla, often overnighting in parks accessible from the ocean.
When out of sight of land, sea kayaking takes on a new and exhilarating dimension especially when rocketing down the face of white capped waves.
To add to the fun, we equipped our kayaks with sails to take advantage of following winds Battery powered bilge pumps to get rid of water taken on board as a result of capsizes were also installed.
Here are a few images from our collection of our time out on the water. They are all scans from Kodak slide film. I always chose slides as they had a very wide subject brightness range.
Fun in the surf at Wanda Beach near Cronulla.Through the break of a little wave. The tube on the right of the hull contains the mast and sail.Tranquility off Cronulla.SWMBO , cool as a cucumber.Paddling up the river from Port Hacking near Cronulla.Rafting up off Sydney Heads on a miserable day.At sea somewhere. Out from Jervis Bay, south of Sydney.Paddling home in the early evening light.Looking skyward on the crest of a wave.Coming ashore in the Queen Mary.SWMBO near Lilly Pilly.Our camp on Broken Bay with Peter.Big is sometimes best.Are we there yet? Well off shore on a gentle sea.Sometimes the unexpected occurs. This was off Jervis Bay south of Sydney. The paddler lost confidence and he had to be towed to a safe landing spot around the point you can see in the far distance.Returning to Jervis Bay to beat an expected Southerly Buster(wind).My trusty Nikonos-V accompanied me on every Kayak trip. 100% dust proof and waterproof to depths I would never attempt when SCUBA diving.
As you can imagine, it would be extremely difficult for paddling on our local rivers, creeks and dams, although interesting, to come anywhere near the fun and excitement of sea kayaking.
Accordingly, we have let our intrepid sit on paddler know that we are staying firmly placed on terra firma.
Way back in the Dream Time, She Who Must Be Obeyed and I were heavily into cycle road racing and competed all over the State with other members of our cycling club.
As time passed, I became the president of our club and SWMBO was the secretary. Tradition had it that attendance at all club social activities was obligatory for committee members.
In the main, our club socials were like Cycle club socials everywhere. Comparisons on equipment, training methods, races won and lost , not to mention the benefits of carbohydrate loading filled most conversations. As our socials were all metropolitan based everyone could make it home easily, ‘after the ball was over.’
Now, if you have already concluded that such meetings would hardly fall into the memorable category, you are absolutely correct.
However, one club social event is forever embedded in my memory.
One of our members and his wife were proud owner of a vineyard situate in a small country town to the north west of Sydney.
He and his wife invited a large number of their friends to celebrate that year’s great crop and included all of our club members in the invitation.
As the farm house and outbuildings were substantial, everyone was invited to stay overnight and SWMBO and I accepted.
SWMBO and I, as club executives, were allocated a bedroom in the main house. Apparently this was part of our club traditions
We had raced that day and I was worn out after the race. By about 10pm and after quite a few cleansing ales and numerous samples of the wines, I excused myself and retired to bed. SWMBO’s constitution is far better than mine and she stayed on.
Now to the memorable part. Our hostess was a vivacious, hard drinking 40 or so year old. Her Lord and Master was quite a bit her senior and we all thought that he had no chance of keeping up with her, if you grasp my meaning.
We all accepted her touchy feeling approach, embarrassing as it could be at times, particularly when we were in our skin tight lycra riding shorts and a part thereof seemed to act as a magnet to her hands.
But I digress. I’d only just hopped into bed and turned the light out when the door opened and a figure entered the room. I assumed it was SWMBO. Not so.
The bedside lamp came on and there was our hostess, clad only in a pair of racy panties. It wasn’t even Christmas.
She took one look at me and cool as a cucumber said,’Sorry I thought you were………..,’ switched off the bedside light and left, closing the door behind her.
Not long afterwards, SWMBO came to bed, found me still awake and thought its was extremely amusing when I related my tale.
At breakfast the next day, our hostess was beaming and radiating happiness as she thanked use all for coming and hoped we all enjoyed ourselves. The individual named to me by our hostess was nowhere to be seen.
As SWMBO and I were leaving for home, our hostess gave me a big hug, a kiss on the lips and whispered to me, ‘Better luck next time!’
Next time never came around, there were no further invitations, but boy oh boy, the memory lingers on.
My slide cull is continuing, although without much success, probably because every slide brings back many memories of events,places and times.
However, it’s the particulars, or should I say the lack thereof, of the events, places and times that is slowing down the process.
Unfortunately, my enthusiasm for making images was not followed through with accurate record keeping at that time. I’ve a reasonably accurate memory bank but it’s not resolving many of the event, place and time dilemmas of my own making.
However, here is one success where my memory has not deserted me.
On a Victorian HOG Rally a few years back, a ride was organised to the ski resort at Falls Creek in the Victorian Snowy Mountains.
A large number of us set off with great expectations of endless mountain views on the ascent, great chalet visits and a rapid ride on the return descent.
As you will see from the following image, nature determined that it would not be so.
The descent was hair-raising but exhilarating and we all got back to the campsite with no untoward incidents occurring.
By the way, I’ve not a single image of mountain views from this ride.
Any Harley Davidson motor cyclist will tell you there is more to owning the bike than just possessing it.
One of those reasons is membership of the Harley Owners Group to which every owner is invited to join.
H.O.G., as it is know has ‘Chapters’ all over the world and Australia is no exception with ‘Chapters’ in every State and Territory.
H.O.G., is not a 1%er club. It is in reality a social club on two wheels where the HOG family gathers to have fun.
Just take the ABC’s of Touring and the HOG Mileage Programs for example. By signing up for these two programs, every ride takes on an extra dimension.
The H.O.G ., Membership Guide describes the Mileage Program this way,’ As if riding your Harley isn’t reward enough, H.O.G., gives you more reasons: point and patches that show off your mileage achievements, a.k.a, Bragging Rights.’
ABC’s of Touring is described in the guide as follows,’An alphabetical “scavenger hunt’ for you and your Harley-Davidson motorcycle! Earn points and win prizes by collecting photos of yourself, your motor cycle and “Official Signs” from A to Z.
Like many H.O.G. members, I combine the two and it adds that little bit of extra interest , particularly as photography then becomes another part of the ride.
H.O.G. members enjoy adorning their riding vests with patches and I’m no exception.
The ABC’s of Touring patch.
Back in the Dream Time I was awarded this patch and a plaque for attaining 50 points in that year’s competition.
Here are some images of places I’ve recorded for the ABC’s. They are not in strict alphabetical order as HOG rules require.
Close to home.Western New South WalesAlmost in far north Queensland.Nearly home.Back in the Northern Territory.Matong combines with Grong Grong to field a successful Australian Rules footy team. Another Northern Territory small town.Close to home.The signs speak for themselves.A lovely Sydney area waterside suburb.The sign says it all.Back in the Northern Territory.Wide open spaces.
Almost back in Queensland .Seems just like yesterday.One of my favourite Queensland cities.A quaint little place in South Australia.A great Queensland outback pub. Clocking up points on an Ulysses Club ride.
Now visiting all these towns and many more helps with the HOG mileage program. It has a patch of course and at specific intervals, as your rack up the miles, they are recognised by the award of an appropriate rocker. As you can see, over time, space becomes an issue, a new vest has been commissioned and the sewing begins anew..
Over the past few months here at Casa Creakingbones , She Who Must Be Obeyed and I have put a lot of effort into decluttering.
Several trailer loads of accumulated bits and pieces have been taken to the local rubbish tip and many boxes of books and magazines have been donated to charity.
The most difficult task for me was taking the decision to rid my studio of the 35mm and medium format monochrome photographic negatives I’d accumulated over more than two decades of serious photography.
Additionally I decided to also dispose of hundreds of monochrome prints I’d made prior to closing my wet darkroom.
Combined, the negatives in their folders and the prints, some mounted and some not, filled the back of our long wheel base two seater Land Rover.
Unceremoniously we tipped the lot into our allocated space at the tip.
That left the fate of thousands, not an exaggeration, of colour slides, safely tucked away in their wooden storage boxes, to be determined at a later date.
I’m sure that many of us can remember the absolute boredom when, on a visit to a friend or relative, the slide projector was suddenly produced and 36 or 72 slides of recent holidays where exhibited, accompanied by a commentary, for example, ‘this is me at the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France.’
We too are guilty of inflicting that pain on others and now I’m in the process of exposing myself to pain a different type as I review my slide collection prior to the its ultimate disposal.
This time around though I’m not being as brutal. I’m retaining slides that bring back memories of special times and events.
Then, when time permits I’ll scan the slides and make selected digital prints.
Middle Eastern Archeology has, since childhood, been an interest of mine and way back in 1976 I had the opportunity to visit Jordan, Syria and Israel for a few months as a guest of the British School of Archeology headquartered in Amman, Jordan.
Fortunately, I was given unlimited use of the Schools Series 2 Long Wheel Base Land Rover.
As you can imagine, I’ve a substantial collection of slides from that experience and here are three examples.
This is the Kings Highway leading from Amman to Aqaba.The stone markers are aids to visual navigation during dust storms. There were no civilian GPS in 1976. The helicopter belongs to His Royal Highness, The King Of Jordan. The stone building is one of the Royal Hunting Lodges that dot the Kingdom. The group of men are part of the Royal entourage. The white Land Rover belongs to The British School.The Wadi Ruum Police Fort near Aqaba. The Wadi Ruum became famous following the release of the movie, Lawrence of Arabia.
I learned early on in my visit that as a westerner,not long after the 6 Day War, it was a good move to not draw too much attention to yourself when moving around unaccompanied in Jordan and Syria . To that end I learned a smattering of Arabic, unfortunately now nearly all forgotten, and often wore the traditional keffiyeh and agal and carried a set of worry beads.
I still have those three items and a few years back the following image was taken of me during a talk I gave about my 1976 experiences.
My interest in Middle Eastern archeology began when as a lad I read Lawrence’s ‘Seven Pillars of Wisdom,’ and histories of his WW1 desert experiences. Lawrence used many of the desert castles as bases during WW1 and I was fortunate to visit and photograph many of them during my stay.
As my slide review progresses I may add another chapter to this adventure.
I’m very proud of my Scottish highland heritage. I won’t let you know that I’m a proud member of Clan Campbell .
One day back in the Dream Time and long before we moved from the city to the country, She Who Must Be Obeyed arrived home from visiting her parents at their home in the bush.
Normally she returned with some family heirloom for safekeeping at our place .
Oh no, not on this occasion.
This time SWMBO was bearing a whopping great Scottish Thistle. Presenting it to me, prickles and all, SWMBO informed me in no uncertain terms that if I was so proud of being of Scottish ancestry I should sport a tattoo of a Scottish Thistle and she considered that the one I was holding was a perfect model for the required tatt.
Now as it happened, a mate from my Harley Owners Group Chapter owned a Tattoo Parlour and was only too happy to do the doings on my right calf and used SWMBO’s thistle as the template..
Here it is, over twenty years of exposure to the elements and standing up well in true Scottish tradition.
Now we live out here in the bush, if you can really say that living in a country town of almost 30,000 people is living in the bush.
It’s a fact that here in the bush, thistles are detested and cockies( Aussie vernacular for farmers) do their very best to eradicate them.
Most towns people don’t like them either because they are prickly little buggers if you tread on them or accidentally brush up against them. Around here they are classified as weeds.
Now I’ve got a real soft spot for thistles, proved many times over when I get visited by their prickles but I’m used to it by now.
A few weeks back I noticed a nice little thistle growing near the house and felt that if it grew a little larger and sported a few blooms, it might make a nice subject for some photography.
Yesterday when cutting the grass around the house, I bumped into the prickle and immediately appreciated how strong it was and how it had grown quite large, bushy and particularly spikey.
I grabbed my camera and took a few shots to illustrate that prickles can be attractive and quite a nice presence in a country garden.
Quite large and spiked, tucked away beside a shrub but carrying some nice blooms.The flower head and its colour is quite striking.This bee and his mate arrived just as I opened the shutter.I was more fortunate with focus when this bloke arrived for a feed.Likewise with this fine specimen.And again.24 hours can be a lifetime in plant terms. I made this photograph an hour or so ago. Yesterday it was in full bloom.
It’s often said that there is no need to leave home to find something to photograph that will create the basis for a story. Thistles here in our yard have done just that.
By the way, credit for the tattoo image must go to SWMBO who made it this afternoon using her iPhone 6s.
My interest in Middle Eastern archeology began when as a lad I read Lawrence’s ‘Seven Pillars of Wisdom,’ and histories of his WW1 desert experiences. Lawrence used many of the desert castles as bases during WW1 and I was fortunate to visit and photograph many of them during my stay.
CREAKINGBONES 