Knee Deep in
Sheepshit
(March 1999)
A few weeks back, (well, a couple of months to be precise) I decided it was time to crank out a few decent miles and see if my bum could handle the distance required to go for the Iron Butt at some stage. I had an excuse to go to Tauranga so figured I may as well make a decent go of it and take in some of the great twisties up East Coast way. I hauled out the map and figured that if I overnighted in Napier (remember, that’s my sisters place) it would give me a day to head up through Wairoa, Gisborne and then up around the Cape and back down the otherside to Tauranga by nightfall. I wasn’t entirely sure if it could be done in the ten hours I was allowing but figured I could always take the Waioeka Gorge if push came to shove and I ran out of time. I knew I had to be in Tauranga Friday night and if I made it to there ok I could do Auckland Saturday and back home Sunday. Easy peasy huh. But, as with all good plans laid by mice and men it just wasn’t to be.
I took off from work early on Thursday (if you can call 3:30pm early) packed the scoot and hit the road only to strike the rush hour traffic leaving town . Made it through the queue at Paremata roundabout and decided SH1 was as good as any but that was my first mistake. Bloody bumper to bumper almost to McKays but made Levin in time for a pie and gas then on, on, on again. Cut through the Manawatu Gorge and on to Dannevirke where I figured I had better gas up again in case I never caught another station open before Napier. About this time dusk hit but it was still warmish so I motored on and to avoid the traffic turned on to Hiway 50 and have some free roads to play on. It was that awful period when it was neither light nor dark and my eyes were still adapting to it although the headlight was working fine. Then it happened!!!!!
You read about that the instance, just before death when your life flashes before your eyes; well, it sort of happened like that. Just off the side of the road I suddenly saw a white blob then instantly recognised it as one of the 30 million sheep we have here in NZ. Shit! I thought, what's it going to do and what the hell is it doing out of the paddock. Before I could break, swerve or anything it cut across my path, directly in front. BLAM!!!!
I T-boned it full on. Must have been travelling at about 80k - 90k I guess, possibly plus a bit more and I thought I was a gonner for sure. All I could think about was all my shiny chrome getting scratched and bent. Next thing I knew I was still upright but with a bloody sore leg. Glancing down I saw the idiot lights glowing normally, just the head beam showing, no oil light so at least that bit was ok. I remember sensing this sheep rolling under the scoot, possibly even dragging for a very short period then some strange sounds as it disappeared into the night behind me.
I slowed to gather my thoughts and reassure myself that all was still ok. I checked the idiot lights yet again and then scanned ahead for somewhere to stop and check the inevitable damage. My left leg was as sore as buggery and I couldn't find the gear lever anywhere. After a bit of fumbling I eventually felt it about four inches out of line, way up in the air.
Then, up ahead I saw some welcoming lights from a roadside farmer’s house so pulled to a stop in the driveway. Turned the engine off, dropped the side stand and dismounted. SHIT, my ankle hurt and I hobbled around a bit cursing loudly then turned to survey all the carnage. The left hand side of the bike was covered in black stuff. DAMN, "OIL" I shouted and dipped my finger into it to confirm but it didn't smell like oil, then I remembered the idiot lights were showing ok. hhhmmmm????
I tried to kick the gear lever down to a usable slot but didn't have much luck with that so hobbled over to the farmers house for some assistance. Ever helpful these country folk are and after being summonsed from in front of the football on TV he gathered a torch and came out with me to find out how bad it all was. Shining the torchlight on my scoot we found that apart from the gear lever all seemed to be mechanically sound. The biggest problem was all the sheep shit splattered all over the left side of the bike and my leg as well.
It seems as though I hit the sheep square on so hard it folded the carcase in half then blew it's stomach contents out it's rear end all over me and the bike. What a mess, shit from arsehole to breakfast time. I then must have rode up over it and was probably airborne for a short while. It all happened so quickly I can't really remember the detail.
The forks were undamaged, front wheel ok, just the bent lever, sheep shit everywhere and some blood and guts covering the radiator. I couldn't believe my luck. Had I been going round a corner, had I swerved, had I not being riding such a solid scoot I'm sure I would have canned off. Someone was watching over me that's for sure.
We kicked the gear lever down a little bit but I rode the next hour mainly in top gear as it was so damned awkward to change gear. Plus, my left leg was hurting like hell by this time. On arriving at my sister's house (I had phoned ahead) we got the bike into some light and confirmed that all was indeed intact apart from the shitty mess. I parked it up, got hosed down by the bro’ in law and left the bike to clean up in the morning.
I didn’t get much sleep that night due to continually waking up from the throbbing (the ankle I tell you, the ankle!!). Next morning I felt like death and could hardly walk but sis’ tossed me a couple of paracetomol with the coffee and an hour later I was feeling somewhat better. Wandered (well, hobbled) outside to survey the damage but I was surprised how minimal it was. Apart from the sheep shit everywhere there was no real obvious sign of any real damage. The gear lever was still way out of line but that was about all. It took me an hour to clean it up and even then I didn’t get into all the nooks and crannies that the sheeps bodily fliuds did. Started the engine and it rumbled like normal so at least that made me feel a bit better. I checked the yellow pages and saw there was a Kawasaki dealer out past the airport so headed off promising to ring sis’ if I got into any bother. The dealer was bloody good (can’t remember their name but they’re a Honda dealer too and a brand s panking new workshop soon to open). They whipped off the gear lever, applied the necessary heat and bent it back to where it should have been in the first place. Nearly a half hour they worked on it and only charged my $15. Pretty good I thought.
As it all turned out, my ankle was badly sprained with the ligaments extended in a major way. It seems the body of the sheep got flicked up against the underside of my foot (front end) which then extended upwards, smashing into the gear lever. It was so forceful it actually cracked the weld where it attaches to the casing and also snapped part of the footpeg fitting (1/4" steel). Thankfully the workshop welded the crack for me.
By this time of course too much time had bowled by so I gave up on doing the East Coast, leaving it for a later time. I cruised off over to Taupo meeting a convoy of about 25 Bugatti’s of the 20’s or 30’s era. At least I think they were Bugatti’s. Bloody nice whatever they were. Long and graceful. Mostly drop tops they were but a couple of hard tops too. Must have been a tour of some sort but they all seemed to have English number plates.
The rest of the trip was pretty much uneventful. I made it to Tauranga and even managed to catch up with Mac, a fellow Ulyssian in Tauranga. He runs a motor trimming business there and keeps a well stocked fridge for unexpected guests. Good onya Mac, you’re a decent bloke. The next day it was pissing down but I took off for Auckland anyway. It’s at times like this you realise that cool looking black leather turns to heavy wet chamois at 100kph but what the hell, that’s biking huh.
The ride home on the Sunday was one of those famous "game of two halves" with persistant rain to Taupo but glorious weather from there south. I bumped into quite a few riders coming back from a rally in Rotorua and had a good chin wag while gassing up in Taihape. Stopped at Flat Hills for a cuppa and even queued up for a blat on the JetSprint but just as it got to my turn, it died. It just wasn’t my weekend.
Finally got home in time to catch the League on Sky just to round off a long and arduous day. The bike stayed untouched for three weeks until my ankle got to the reasonably comfortable stage. It’s now almost back to 100% fit but there’s still something not quite right. I guess it’ll at least give me a good excuse to avoid the shopping or trip to the in-laws on a cold day.
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