Superbike badasses!‏

It's like being in a superbike race; pass as often and with as much speed as you can, use your breaks only to avoid an accident or when entering a tight curve, pass on the inside or outside it makes no difference, never take into account the bikes around you (that's their job) and most importantly, never and i mean never let your right hand off full throttle.  
 
Ok maybe I’m exaggerating a little but that's exactly how I felt after 5 hours of it yesterday.  Now obviously no one is forcing you to drive this way but if you don't you are more likely to crash as you’re not driving like everyone else and you cause confusion of the road.
 
Passing a black diesel belching, horizontal mushroom cloud inducing, deafeningly loud, unexhausted, fully loaded dump truck that's spewing sand and gravel out of its uncovered load while another one identical in size and menace is barreling straight at you in the oncoming lane...not worth a second thought as this is only one of the 2 or 3 hundred you are gunna pass today, get used to it.
 
Finally we enter a congested city traffic jam.  Not that i like traffic jams in the slightest but it does happen to mean that all the devilish disturbing dumpieshave to stop in their tracks; though that doesn't stop them from spewing thick black soot (what the fzck are you burning in there anyhow?...Coal!).  So the trucks are stuck...that has no effect on a motorbike as we're free to pass on the left, right, breakdown lane, sidewalk, gravel shoulder, weave in and out, do just about anything we fzcking like as no one's gunna stop you.  
 
About the only international rule of the road we've come across here is that everyone stops religiously at the stop lights; ok that is a lie, a few maniacs turn left on red, whip uies, turn left again and are on their way through it’s not that common.  And another thing, at the stop lights, everyone and i mean everyone always stops behind the white line, we havn't figured out why but they do, and so, so do we.  
 
That was until yesterday...I’m speeding along in the zone, never taking my eyes off the road, not even for a second; Rachael's on back, reading the map, yelling out directions, and i mean yelling as on a bike, wearing old shitty helmets surrounded by wannabe straight piped motorcycle racers and solar icecap melting diesel dumptrucks if you don't shout you can't hear each other and so the other is forced to scream "what" for the millionth time and it sometimes causes inter-couple friction.  So the rule goes, "if you've got something to say...shout it out or save it for later."
 
"WE'RE IN A LEFT ONLY LANE AND WE WANT TO GO STRAIGHT!"  booms the co-pilot, 50 feet before the red light, police monitored intersection in front of us.
 
Ahhhhhhh, SHit!! 

Despite being on a motorbike i can't just squeeze next to the cars in the straight only lane like all the other motorbikes are doing because of the massive double surfboard rack contraption protruding from our left side.  I could try but without a doubt some diesel dumpy will rip them off and crush us in the process.  
 
My mind draws a big fat blank!  With a foot to the white line i look up to see the two traphic cops watching us closely...ahhh...with no other choice i shrug and then pull perpendicurly in front of the rest of the straight only traffic, I am way the fzck over the white line!!
 
How much is this stupid mistake gunna cost me i wonder...10, 20, 50 bucks, are they gunna make us go back to the station?  Fzck!!!
 
They are staring right at us..."should i blow the red light and try to out run them?" i think for a second before coming to my senses.
 
Just take what's coming, even 50 bucks isn't that much to pay off the cops, a lot of places it would probably cost me 100 i think.  
 
Then without warning...their hard stairs soften...suddenly both crack a smile, laugh and then jump on their bike and speed off.
 
Few, out luck is still holding!
 
Love US

Maniacs Part Two!‏

For obvious reasons the next ten minutes pass without either of us catching a wave, we are always to wide, we just can’t force ourselves to sit deep enough, it’s to scary.  Then a huge wave comes.  I’m sitting in the same place that’s been To wide for all the other waves but not this one.  Wanting to get this thing over and done with as soon a possible I turn and go for it. 

I’m looking down a vertical 6 foot face to the shimmering reef below.  My momentary indecision renders me to deep and as I push my board out to stand up I’m pitched by the lip of the wave straight out into the air.  Time slows…aahh how I wish I hadn’t hesitated or better yet that I’d hesitated longer and just let the wave go, but of course I didn’t and now I free fall to the bottom where I’m smashed, then picked back up by the passing wave and smashed again.  Opening my eyes under water, the illuminated coral is blotted out by the white water and it is pitch black.  For a moment I start to panic, but remember it doesn’t d much except use up your air more quickly.  Covering my head with my arms I make the rest of my body go limp and let the wave have its way with me.  Finally I’m released but unlucky for me I’ve fallen on the very first wave of a ten wave set which means 10 more thrashings.  During which my boxers are ripped down to my feet and for a while I’m completely naked, getting pummeling by waves, dragged close to the rocks with only a couple feet of water between me and the urchin infested coral below.  To put it mildly, I’m freaking out!!  Get me out of here!!

Finally I make it back to the channel, looking up I see Silus flying along the face of a wave, not making any turns just going as fast as he can.  He lets out a primal sound, part adrenalin part fear. 

Now there is absolutely no way I can just paddle in, if Silus’ got a wave I’m getting one. Luckily the next set to come is of a more manageable size and I pick off a real nice one, ripping along the face it is quite the surreal sensation; I pull off just before it shuts down.  That’s it, I’ve had my one wave, I don’t want another, I’m finished, so I paddle back out real wide.  Silus can go for as many more as he wants, I’m gunny sit here and watch or should I say try to watch as I really can’t seem much. 

Another wave come and he gets it, only he rides it to far and doesn’t pull off in time.  Smash! He’s trapped on the inside like I was and unlucky for him a massive set is just starting to rip through.  For the next 10 minutes I bob out there on my own, Silus is getting a royal thrashing.

The first couple of minutes pass quickly as I’m still fired up from my one wave but the longer I sit along out there the more freaked out I get.  I’m so wide no wave is going to get me but off in the distance, as the swells roll past, I keep seeing something large bobbing around stirring up white water and reflecting in the moon light.  I only get fleeting glimpses; certainly it is a tree branch or maybe a sea turtle but in my mind it is 100% for sure a shark.  I doesn’t matter that no one every sees sharks around these parts, in my mind that is what it is.  And every surfer knows once you start thinking sharky thoughts it is all over, your imagination takes over. 

Fing-HAM this!!  With still no Silus in sight I start paddling for land.  Then all of a sudden there he is, “Holly Fing-HAM Shit! My heart is beating crazy fast! Let’s get the Fing-HAM out of here!” are the first words out of his mouth.  No need to convince me!

We book it for shore, only not wanting to get anywhere near the rocks we’re force to struggle for 15 minutes against a ragging rip. 

Exhausted, terrified and filled with adrenalin we finally make it to the beach.

Hands down we both agree it was the scariest thing either of us has ever done but that it was also awesome and we are glad we did it but that we won’t be going again anytime soon.

So if you are going night surfing don’t bother asking me to come along, I’m happier nuzzled up in bed!!

LOVE US

Maniacs Part One!‏

For over two hours we’ve been sitting in this restaurant, (no it is not Dead Puppy, Nail in your food Warung 29) the meal took an hour to come out and now the fruit platter has taken another hour.  Luckily for the restaurant owners we’re with friends and remembered to bring a deck of cards or we might have just walked out without paying it’s taken so long.

Like lions at a fresh kill, heads down, we devour our food when it finally comes out.  Looking up from our plates we scan the place for our friend Silus.  Where is he?  Seems as though he’s already left.  Oh-no!  Shit!  That probably means he actually thought I was serious when I said I’d go night surfing with him and now he has snuck out the back so no one else tries to tag along with us.

Ahhh…It is already 10pm, I truly cannot be bothered even going to check the waves let along actually go surfing.  I’m too tired.  I need an excuse, o yes good idea, I tell the truth, “I’m just to tired”.  I’ve been using that excuse my whole life.  No one really appreciates it but it always works.

Walking out of the restaurant, ohh damn!  There he is, on his bike, surf board in the rack ready to go, he’s chomping at the bit he’s so excited.  Shit!  I have no choice, I said I’d do it and now if I back out he won’t go either and I’ll never hear the end of it.  Maniacs go night surfing, suicidal maniacs go night surfing alone and he’s not suicidal so he won’t do it on his own, I have no choice really.  “Hold your houses, let me grab my gear.”

Two minutes later Rachael is crawling into our nice cumphy bed while Silus and I are fanging down empty moon lit streets on our Honda 125’s.  I can’t shake the notion I’ve forgotten something crucial; surfboard-check, booties-check, rashie-check, wax-check, what else do you need to go surfing?  I can’t think of anything, must be nervous anxiety knowing me might very well paddle out at a powerful reef break in the night time.

Arriving at Segar neither of us can believe how much the full moon is illuminating the ocean, it almost looks like it could be day; almost.  The wind is just ever so slightly offshore and we can see the moonlight reflecting in the white water peeling across the bay, other than that it looks a bit small conditions appear to be perfect.   Shit, we’re here, let’s go for it. 

Waxing up my board it dawns on me; surfboard-check, booties-check, boardshort-no check.  I’m wearing thick canvas cargo shorts and have forgotten my boardies at the room. Damn!  There is no way I’m going back for them, it’s either surf in my cargo shorts which will not only be absurdly heavy and annoying but will get covered with way and they are my only ‘bottom half’ article of clothing.  Hell!  I’ll just surf in my old baggy, dead elastic boxers I decide.

Paddling out I feel as though I’m hallucinating, the moonlight is refracting through the ripples on the water forming dazzling shapes on the coral below and for some reason the surface of the ocean isn’t light up by the moonlight giving the sensation I’m floating in mid air.  That combined with the endless black abyss in front of us, the glowing white thunderclouds on the distant horizon and the shimmering stars above it is a pretty awhh inspiring moment.

Only once we are out the back, bobbing alone in the ocean, waiting for a wave, the awhh is rather rapidly replaced by anxiety and fear.  What on earth are we doing out here?  This is downright scary!  And then the first set comes…from shore we had thought it might be too small to surf, Wrong!!  The waves are overhead jacking monsters pitching at the take off and barreling, way too big to be surfing at night.  We are both sent scrambling to get wide enough to avoid copping the first set on the head. 

Going around and around in my head I’m thinking.  This is stupid, this is insane, I don’t want to get hurt, let’s get the Fing-HAM out of here, NOW!  Only we can’t, we’ve come this far, actually paddled out, we have to at least try to catch a wave before paddling in. 

White water off the distant indicator rock surges into view and then quickly fades away.  That means we’ve got about 30 seconds before the first wave of the set is upon us.  My heart starts racing, I know there are big waves coming, in the day it’s easy to get yourself into the right position, but sitting out here virtually in the dark we won’t see the waves until they are on top of us.  It’s is a complete crap shoot, pick a spot, try to keep your nerve and hope your not to deed because if your are you’ll get washed in towards the rocks. 

For obvious reasons the next ten minutes pass without either of us catching a wave, we are always to wide, we just can’t force ourselves to sit deep enough, it’s to scary.  Then a huge wave comes.  I’m sitting in the same place that’s been To wide for all the other waves but not this one.  Wanting to get this thing over and done with as soon a possible I turn and go for it.  

To be continued............

Love US