And they have the heads up on us.These Kiwis know the Conondale track better than most Aussies
DJ reminiscing on the passed.
cheers
Conondale Classic August 2008
The sun was setting as we headed into the hills around Melany, just north of Brisbane and we had just past the last grocery store on the way to the “Conondale Classic”. No coke for the Jim Beam, no milk for the cornflakes and no coffee to cure an awaiting hangover. If life was meant to be easy everyone would do it!! Luckily everyone doesn’t do VMX because only top blokes need apply, and top blokes looked after us the whole weekend.
In true vintage form the Friday night greeting was a tour of camp fires and alcohol. The buzz of a classic was in the air and it was a crisp morning as two kiwis walked the track sharing a beer can. We weren’t going to let on to the locals that we couldn’t find a glass for our orange juice so an empty can of beer was made use of. A few second glances were shot our way but for breakfast we thought bourbon and cornflakes just didn’t seem right.
The Conondale track was in pristine condition and is a mix of man-made and natural terrain. The morning practise session was a little slippery from the watering of the track but soon dried as the glorious sunny day warmed up. The racing was hard and fast with some impressive displays of what a vintage dirt bike can achieve, and with good clean riding and healthy attitudes the day was fun for all. The first day of the ‘Classic’ was so much fun that we could hardly wait for the second day but there was always the night to get through.
Hot showers, hot food and hot camp fires kept what could only be described as a nip in the air at bay, or was it “worse than I thought”. But with a few beverages under ones belt and many a story told of the day’s events and many other events of a time when just the sound of a dirt bike starting up you could hear the difference between the brands. The good ole days. Fortunately most VMXers haven’t heard of old age yet and the youthful exuberance carried on into the night. The morning came around as faster than Bob Hannah being chased by Broc Glover for a national title and you could hear the bones creaking and headaches thumping as you lay in your sleeping bag wishing you had showed some wisdom and gone to bed at a respectable hour. We may remember the good ole days but we would love to forget the bad old mornings.
Bacon for breakfast to the rescue and the morning mist was nearly gone; the headache would take a little longer.
Sunday racing was as good as Saturday and with only one mishap, you couldn’t have asked for a better weekend. Even though Bill had the misfortune to come unstuck he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he was having and that isn’t because he was out riding a bike, but because of the people who attended. Championships, Trophies, Titles and competitiveness just don’t compete against the collective comradeship of VMX. The love of old bikes kicking up dirt and being able to share the whole experience with bloody good friends.
Thanks to all the people who made our trip over the ditch a bloody good time and as always if any of you want to come here we will try to show you the hospitality you show us, as you blokes and your partners are fantastic hosts.
