Gisborne

When you grow up on a farm there’s bound to be some shit happening or some kind of catastrophe.

We had this awesome as motorbike that we would pretend we were stunt riders and always trying to better the other jumping bigger jumps, skidding the ass end of it out trying to do 360 degree turns. We were stunt stars… at least at home.

On one particular day I ‘stole’ it and put on my best gears (stonewash jeans, gumboots, black jacket, huge ass helmet and super goggles)…. classy bitch I tell ya! I started off doing small jumps…I needed heaps of practice if I was going to be better than my bro… by the way it was his bike, not OUR bike haha. Hooning off like the clappers, jumping what felt like 100 feet but probably only one foot.

Ended up with my bro coming out yelling “Get off my bloody bike you bitch!”, “You didn’t ask! Get off!”, fair enough haha. Just made me want to push the bike harder and faster! Ended up skidding out this way and that and watching my brother run at me then disappear as I boosted beyond. Took great pleasure in watching him angry and not being able to get near me… knowing full well that when I got off I just had to bloody bolt and get the hell out of there as we probably would have got into fisty cuffs haha (don’t get me wrong but we were close as, but annoyed the hell out of each other and ended up in a big scene afterwards). Continue reading »

It was a sparkling day with the sun beaming through the old wooden windows after my eyes opened from a wondrous deep sleep. Thinking to myself “I wonder what I should do today?”. Being only a little tyke the farm was my playground. BUT…. today was not one of those rosey days by a long shot, it was more like a bleak droning echo in the frontal lobes of my head! I will tell you why..

Dad had his mates around for a few beers. They were a hard-case looking bunch.. thick 70′s moustaches, hair roughed up and un-brushed, mostly down to their shoulders, no shirts and short as stubby shorts. We always went off and did our thing hooning on our BMX’s pretending they were Mustangs and the like… Continue reading »

Well howzit! Here’s a yarn and a half for ya! Man, where do I start!? I guess just start aye? The day was 07 March 1988 when the cyclone hit, one of the hugest disasters of it’s time in NZ… it was also a time when we preferred to be anywhere but school or home. … Continue reading »