OCTOBER 17TH RIDE TO BUNDALONG

As we had agreed we would all meet at the BP on saturday for a day ride. Grover, Gilly, Bird and Stix turned up but no Eric. It was decided that we would go over the Warby Ranges on our way to Bundalong Tavern, so off we went, but a short detour to see where Eric was found him still in his thongs and not looking like he was coming. A short chat and a few "come ons" and we were away with the assurance he would meet us there. The ride to the Tavern was fairly uneventful but the meal was fine and the company good, and to all our surprise who should arrive just in time to order his meal... Eric. After lunch we headed off to Tocumwal . On the way Bird got hit in the gobb by an insect that must of had footy boots on, and the result was a fat lip.... very fat, oh and very funny according to all present. Once back to Shepp every one went their own way home. When Bird got home looking for sympathy for his fat lip ,all he got from his missus was giggles and shit that looks sore..... bitch...just like the rest of you's who went. Bird

OCTOBER SUNDAY RIDE TO EUROA

Didn't look great for a ride, heavy clouds, occasional showers, pretty shitty but with a few phone calls and a bit of coaxing, 9 brave people showed up for what turned out to be quite a good day, both ride wise and weather. First stop was the Euroa Hot Rod Show which has grown to be enormous, then it was decided that a short ride to the Violet Town hotel was a better idea than returning home the way we had come. Eric was appointed leader of this trek and what a fine stuff up he made of it too. First it was over the highway to a round about and back over the highway to the turn he should have taken , then as the group took the exit to Violet Town,Eric was seen disappearing down the highway, on his own, never to be seen again on this day. Drinks were had as we awaited our leaders return, but to no avail, no Eric. Dookie was announced as our next stop and with more than two corners to take,Bird took over from the missing Eric. Again a good little hotel with cold drinks, we waited, still no Eric. The Royal Mail in Mooroopna was the last port of call where we could all say our good byes, except for.... Eric, he was home by now telling his bride how we had left him no doubt. Bird