Hi achternaam, As you know, I have a tough job. Riding to test product on a regular basis is not all beer and skittles. Sometimes it involves discomfort, hard yakka and head smacking frustration... Honest. Take the recent "Off the Grid" story for an upcoming Adventure Rider edition. The plan was that a few industry people would meet in the Snowies and show off the gear we think is useful... On the other side of the black stump, away from motels and counter meals. I stopped in Mansfield to fuel up on way to meet up with Safari's Robin Box. Having totally cocked up the time I needed to get to his place, I was in a flap. After some interesting sandy back roads and tangling with graders and a water truck (perfect when you're in a hurry... not) I finally teamed up with him in Myrtleford. Hardly getting my feet to the ground, we struck off on a tight timeline to make camp before dark. A splash and dash at Corryong had me doing the Sinking Heart, Aussie Hakka looking for my wallet. Nuckin', nuckin' bloodee... It's a sure fire way of putting the dampners on a trip. Worrying about the scumbag that might be having a nice little "tap-a-thon" and the stuffing about the replace license, medicare, roadside assist, seniors, public transport cards and the like. With this drama close to mind I upended everything I had with me with no luck.... Arrrrk! The next morning my generous companion slipped me a couple of pineapples to get me home as I rode the mountain looking for phone service to block my cards and alert home to my moment of stoopid. An uneventful and pleasant couple of days passed but the leave pass expired, so we struck out for home. I combed the roads just outside Mansfield in case it had fallen from my pocket and decided it was a goner so cancelled my cards. At home the bike was unpacked and washed, hey, it's new! As I blew off the worst of the water afterwards I peeked down beside the bottom triple clamp inside the fairing. Low and friggin' behold there was my wallet sitting in a little recess inside the fairing panel. Now, think this through, I'd ridden the best part of 1000km on sealed and unsealed roads. On the dirt roads I hadn't hung around, wanting to get a feel of the Bumblewee's new front suspension. Had I popped the wallet there for safe keeping the bloody thing would have lasted fifty metres at most I'd reckon. |