MARVELLOUS MACHINES

'You’re never lost on a motorcycle.' ~ Anonymous

How it started

I blame my brother. He had to babysit his little sister, and he had Tarlton pit tickets. I remember vividly standing behind the legendary March 83G and 84G-Porsche prototype race cars modified for the "Kreepy Krauly Racing" team, when their engines started. The ground literally shook beneath me, and tire sauce, to my horror and amazement, was poured onto their enormous tyres. I've never forgotten that smell, the billows of smoke enveloping those marvellous machines, or the feeling that unleashed in me when they took off down the quarter mile. Quite simply, I was hooked.

My brother also allowed me to watch him fix his nifty fifty, and let me sit in front of him as he sped down the service lane without a seat, so my feet could touch the pedals. Even better, he took me to the Convent occasionally on his Yamaha 400 Special, and I loved the look on the nuns' faces as I tucked my helmet into the stationery cupboard. I only got through those school days by waiting for him not to forget me outside.   

Not too long after that both he and his bike left, and I graduated to working at Kyalami Racetrack as an NGK spark plug girl. My sister's ex-boyfriend became my biking buddy, and for the next few years his Honda, aka The Blue Baron, was my trusty steed. By the time 'varsity rolled around I'd learned how to throw a car around the Pretoria West Police Training College skid pan, dead slippery with oil, water and an instructor urging me to make 120km/hour before hitting the oval. I couldn't move my arms the next day, but I never forgot those defensive driving lessons! 

Through my part-time job in an AGFA photographic lab I met my surrogate Dad, Toyota photographer Roger Swan, and became absorbed in the dusty, delicious rally scene. In those days we could rekkie the stages for the best vantage points, and we wrecked an axle or two too! By the tender age of 19 I was driving unlaunched Camry's and Hilux's all over the show as an assistant, from the tulip fields of Hadeco to golf courses on the coast, hitting packs of wild dogs on the N3 and cracking windscreens with stray hard balls along the way.    

In those days, sans Photoshop, we weighed down the vehicles with steel bars, boot-polished the tyres, shammied the chassis, arose pre-dawn to look for light, and manoeuvred vehicles with infinite patience to line up logos. Roger shot medium and large formats, so we also never knew what we'd got until much later. Around then he sent me to the racetrack, armed with several rolls of slide film, a borrowed 35mm camera and no sunscreen, and let me loose to learn the art of panning. I still cherish the photo I took of the red Yamaha Team, and the one positive that made it into print! 

The dry years

My husband was allergic to motorcycles, so for the next 12-odd years I left two wheels behind. I did, however, realise a long-held dream in the early 2000's as a young mother - to see motorbikes all over Sandton Square. Bikers had been axed in the '90s after a knife fight, and Management was not convinced that this would be such a grand plan. So I roped in my friend Charley Cooper as my poster boy and, armed with stats about the actual demographics of the biker brotherhood, I set off into the hallowed halls of Sandton. Before long I was selling off exhibition space and advertising in Bike SA with the encouragement of Simon Fourie. I even overcame my fear of public speaking for a brief stint on Radio 702, and pledged to donate the funds raised to the Salvation Army. 

I remain the only woman I know to have gone to Sandton City to buy a parking lot, and to claw through the fine print of 30-odd insurance companies to underwrite public indemnity, for the safety of both the public and the windows in the Michelangelo Hotel. The deal was that photographers from my photo lab would shoot the bikers and their prized machines - which they had to push onto the Square for said insurance cover - and leave with an A4 print. In the end the day was a resounding success: over 1000 bikers came from far and wide, the marble fountain remained intact, firefighters abseiled between the buildings, and the posh people parted like the Red Sea when the bike clubs went in search of liquid refreshment. It went so well, in fact, that Bike SA hired me to organise a quad event on the Square, and this time I met no resistance. 

Adventures abound

One of my first post-divorce acts was to climb back on a motorcycle. By then my childhood friend had a Fireblade, and the N14 to Harties became a regular Sunday ride. The return to land-based flying and freedom was balm for my soul. I was working for Kodak, and my printing skills had evolved with technology into daylight processes. Together with the company I helped create, we covered the first Kyalami Xtreme Sports Expo in 2004, and I had the honour of being in the pits with the 2-seater Formula One pioneers, making history on Women's Day. I stood underneath the FMX teams as they flew overhead, executing stunts like the 360° backflip not seen before, and followed Travis Pastrana to the sea.        

To be continued...