"THAT'S EMBARRASSING"
A MOUNT BULLER
MOTORCYCLE ADVENTURE
T
here’s a metallic taste. My
mouth full of a thick, metallic
fluid. Struggling to get my
helmet off, my thumb re-
jecting movement toward its
neighbouring finger. Shit this
taste is horrible.
“You ok?” asked the rider behind
me. Tim Scriven a veteran of the
Australian Safari, a three-time class
winner no doubt. Embarrassing!
“Yeah,” I sighed. Oh, the indignity
of it all. “I just bit my bloody tongue.”
We’d ridden no further than five
kilometres into the bushland around
Victoria’s Mount Buller, a track, not
even a challenging trail. A log, some
might even suggest nothing more
than a branch the size of a teenager’s
arm. Laying across the track, as soon
as it was too late, I realised it was too
late. The front wheel of the Honda
CRF250 hit it on an angle and you
know the saying … the rest is history
…
Embarrassing!
TRAVERSE 19
Mumbling something about the
bike getting high, Tim helped me pick
the bike up and get it started. I spat
the blood from my mouth, the flow
was a torrent. It was early, we had a
full day ahead of us. My thumb was
still rejecting its neighbour.
We caught the others in the group, a
flush of blood rose in my cheeks as we
stopped. Embarrassing!
“Everything alright?” asked David
Marsicano of Mount Buller Motorcy-
cle Adventures. I nodded. My stupid
pride hiding the weird feeling in my
throttle hand. We rode on.
The terrain was spectacular, the
bush lush. The air was crisp making
the riding a pleasure. The track was
wide and open, despite my fall I was
enjoying it. The MBMA crew had tak-
en a great mix of experienced riders
and novices, to this sort of riding,
on its last group tour of the year. I’d
counted myself as a former, that log
had perhaps suggested I was the lat-
ter. Embarrassing!