|
I did not know Gordy well.
My first real introduction to the Perth motorcycling scene was through the bike bays in Scarborough on a Wednesday and Friday night. A regular character at these gatherings was Gordy. It was weeks before I actually said anything to him. I don’t know why, but that was just Gordy. He seemed to remain apart from most people, while at the same time being surrounded by them.
The trip to Geraldton was an eye opener for me, because after just being a part of the pack on the way up, while the rest of us posed on the rocks just south of Kalbarri, here’s this guy on a Z750 and shiny silver helmet doing burnouts in the salt puddles, wheelies on rough, rocky ground, and riding down to the water’s edge only to turn and race a wave back up the rocks. He just wanted to ride and have fun. That was Gordy. Then, we left the rocks, out of nowhere this bald man of quiet demeanour launched a stand-up wheelie and proceeded to navigate a bend in the road and slow down, all while looking like it was the easiest thing in the world. PRICK!
Then, when we got separated from the pack and saw a cop car going the same way as us up ahead, to kill time he wheelied along side me at 100, just cos he could.
He was almost always ready with a funny comment or witty reply. His FNR webpage was a tribute to riding with mates as well as a tongue-in-cheek finger at the WA police traffic department. Woefully under-braked, under-powered “taxis with disco lights” that were to be shown the same disregard and contempt as any other WA road user.
His red Z750 was always a talking point, as it slowly underwent several changes or disguises, firstly with a black paint job, then a SUZUKI sticker on the tank, then the rebadging of it as a KHUNT. I just once would have liked to have heard a police radio call saying they were in pursuit of “a rider on a black khunt”.
I did not know him well, but I am glad I knew him.
RIP, Gordy.
|
