I hit it a little hard on the Saturday night so I was hanging a bit by Sunday morning. I still managed to get my shit together and get out of the house pretty much on time. I had a few reservations about what the day was going to be like but settled on the idea it would probably rain and the few people that would turn up wouldn't stay long. It was good to be wrong, and I was very wrong. The sun shone from the break of day til sunset and even though you got a good chill on the bike, stood around at the cafe most people were down to t-shirts.
I got to The Filling Station Cafe early to beat my hangover with a full fried breakfast and a mug of tea. I rode over with a buddy from Penrith and met one of Johnnys neighbours who could only pop in early. As I polished off breakfast Gilly and Sammy from the Roadburners rolled in. I went out to meet them and spark up my cigar- it was a Fag Break after all. As I puffed on my stogie, relighting it a few times, time flew by, people cruised in, tea was drunk and fags were smoked. The turn out was healthy and everyone stayed for most of the day. Good to see Skittle, Chalky, Spike, Patty, Knock and all the rest who have proper names. I asked a mate Phil to stop by and busk out some shit-kicking blues but the arrangement was a bit loose as it always is with artistic types. I was really chuffed when he turned up. He sat on his amp Delta-style and sang through his harmonica mic adding a real depth to the occasion, something only live music can do. By the time my cigar would no longer light and even if it did I would burn my lips dragging on it, the day was about done. Groups drifted off leaving those that remained tittering from the roar of open pipes. It was a grand selection of bikes and a grander selection of folk, Johnny would have been proud. His mother thanks you all for coming.
