Family Snippets - 22. A Weekend With Murphy

Colin and I were off for a weekend away. He was particular excited because it was going to be the first time he had taken his new dirtbike anywhere.

He had been asking for a motorcycle since he was four, and when he turned eight we bought him a cheap dirtbike. Janine and I didn’t see any point in spending a lot of money if he decided after a short time that he wasn’t really that interested. Initially, that had seemed like a wise move, because the bike hadn’t been ridden a lot over the first few months. Slowly, however, he became more keen, so, after numerous breakdowns, we decided to get him a new dirtbike.

It was an expensive undertaking. As Janine is a keen horse rider, we are very familiar with the slogan ‛Poverty is Owning a Horse’, but we’re adding dirtbikes to that category. The bike itself, a Yamaha TTR, was moderately expensive, but it’s the extras that add up.

The first was a trailer. His old dirtbike would fit in the back of Janine’s ute, but the new one was too big (and heavy – I wasn’t going to lift it up to the tray of her vehicle to get it in).

The second major expense hasn’t been undertaken yet. It was just after we bought the trailer that Janine made a comment.

“What will we do when there’s a horse competition on the same weekend you and Colin go off to a motorcycle weekend away?”

It was a good point. We only have one vehicle with a tow bar, and my car isn’t really suitable. At some stage soon, we’ll have to upgrade my vehicle to something larger, and, naturally, more expensive.

Poverty is Owning a Dirtbike.

However, we haven’t reached that point yet, so Colin and I were looking forward to our weekend away at a dirtbike camp. We had been previously with the old bike, but this would be the first time Colin would be able to show off his new pride and joy. It was obvious it was his new pride and joy, because every day after school the first thing he did was to go and either caress or sit on his new bike. His face would light up so much that if I could figure a way to capture it, we wouldn’t have to pay the electric company anything to light our house.

Janine and Andrew had their weekend planned, too. Andrew was having a school friend sleep over, and they were all going out to the local Chinese restaurant for dinner.

Colin and I packed Janine’s car and we headed off. It was very exciting... until I got to the end of the driveway.

“Why are we stopping?” Colin asked.

“Because the bike’s moved. We don’t want it to fall over.”

The first time we tried to transport the bike on the trailer, it had fallen over. We had straps to hold the front firmly to the front of the trailer, but the back wheel had bounced around so much that the whole bike had fallen over. We had decided not to buy a proper bike trailer, or even a box trailer with an inset to hold a bike. Instead, Janine had insisted we buy a box trailer that was capable of holding a round bale of hay. After all, it is important to remember that poverty is owning a horse, and the needs of the horse takes priority over a mere mechanical device like a dirtbike. Colin and I are working to overcome this short sighted attitude, but Janine is starting from a very entrenched position – she’s had horses from before we were married, and long before Colin had appeared on the scene – and it’s taking time.

Happily, after a little adjusting and tightening, the bike was made secure, again, and we were off. I kept an eye on the bike in the mirrors, but it stayed secure.

We were about ten minutes away when I remembered that I had forgotten to pack my Nintendo DS. While these weekends away were great fun for Colin, I don’t have quite as much fun because I don’t currently ride. Instead, I get the other enjoyable tasks of setting up the tent, pumping up the air beds, rolling out the sleeping bags, and cooking. These, sadly, don’t keep me occupied for the entire weekend, so the last couple of times I had taken along my DS with a few games, so I could fill in the gaps between doing these chores, eating and drinking (beer, of course).

I wasn’t going to turn around, though, and resigned myself to trying to find some other things to do while Colin was riding. I went through the list and decided that talking to some of the other parents there might be a viable option.

Another half hour later, I realised we had forgotten to pack chairs. It would either be sitting on the ground or standing. I carefully avoided thinking about the fact that Janine had offered the picnic rug earlier, or that I had declined. After all, admitting that I had declined to take something useful wasn’t something I cared to do.

The rest of the trip had passed uneventfully, if I ignore the fact that I wouldn’t allow Colin to put on his favourite CD. I had brought several from my collection and I insisted we listen to them. Colin didn’t seem overly impressed by my musical tastes.

We arrived at the camp ground and unloaded Colin’s bike. He quickly put on all his gear and we headed up to check in. His bike was checked to make sure it was safe, and then he was off.

I set up the tent, and moved in our gear. While I can be a stickler for the rules at times, the whole reason for going away was for Colin to ride his bike, so while he rode, I set up our camp site. As I did so, my watch fell off my wrist – the band had broken. I sighed and put it in my pocket. Something to get fixed during the week. It wasn’t as if camping out in the wilderness was something that required accurate timekeeping, so a watch was really an optional extra.

We were parked near some people we knew from earlier camps. They had already started a camp fire, so I did my bit by collecting firewood for later in the night after the initial load had burnt down.

Then my pile of wood disappeared.

“I thought the idea was to keep that wood for later,” I said.

One of the other kids shrugged. “Sorry. We thought the fire was getting low.”

I smiled. “Okay, but how about we keep the next load for when the fire gets low again?”

I gathered two more loads of wood, and then removed the first load from the fire where the other boys had put it.

“That was Kevin,” one boy said, using the age old technique of blaming someone else. “He likes to annoy people.”

I grinned. “That’s okay. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

I kept a careful eye on my wood pile after that. A supply of good quality burnable wood is worth a lot when you’re camping a long way from civilisation. That is the reason that Janine doesn’t join us on these trips – if there’s not hot and cold running water, she’s not interested. Not only is there no running water, there’s not even electricity unless you bring your own generator. These trips are real camping.

After Colin had finished riding for the day, I prepared a culinary delight for him to eat – half-cooked tinned spaghetti in jaffles, made over an open fire. He ate a small amount before making a confession.

“I don’t really like them. The bread is nice, but not the spaghetti.”

I rolled my eyes. I had slaved for minute over a hot fire to make this gourmet meal for him, and he had the gall to tell me he didn’t like them. “Then just eat the bread.”

It wasn’t as if he would starve. We always had the fall back of cup-of-soup, another one of my specialties. And, if really desperate, we had the option of instant noodles using the thermos of hot water I had made before we had left home.

Colin and the other kids played hide-and-seek that night. Needless to say, when you’re in the dark, with no lights around apart from a few camp fires and torches, the game wasn’t a great success. The other kids hid and Colin couldn’t find them....

The next day, Colin was up early. He was keen to go out and ride again, and wasn’t impressed when I told him that the riding wouldn’t start until ten. Instead, he had to wait until after breakfast – another culinary masterpiece of a packet of cereal with milk.

As he was about to head off to ride, he came up to me. “Where’s my goggles?”

The riding rules were strict – if you didn’t have all the safety gear, you couldn’t ride.

“I don’t know. Where did you leave them last night?”

“I don’t know!” He wasn’t quite ready to start crying, but I didn’t think it was that close. He was, after all, only ten.

“Then go look.”

The two of us searched everywhere they were likely to be, and a number of places they weren’t like to be. I then sent him off, asking the other campers if anyone had found a pair of goggles.

They didn’t show up, but we eventually found someone with a spare pair of kids goggles, so Colin was still able to ride. He was very, very thankful.

As I packed up the tent and got ready for our later departure, I happened to move Colin’s jacket. Out fell his goggles. Both of us had checked earlier, but with his jacket being the same colour as his goggles, we hadn’t noticed them. I took them up to the track and swapped the goggles on Colin’s next lap. I then wrote a very thankful note and left the loaned goggles on the front seat of the other people’s car.

Everything went smoothly until just before lunch when Colin took a short break..

“Hey, you’ve got a new bike!” one of the other adults remarked to Colin. He had been one of the other riders who had helped once with his old bike after it had broken down.

“Yes! It’s really, really cool.”

After a couple of minutes of compliments, the other adult frown as he noticed something. “You’ve broken the cover on the air filter.”

That turned out to be fatal to Colin’s ride. The broken cover was allowing dust to go directly into the engine. If he kept on riding, he risked the engine seizing up. His bike was broken and he couldn’t use it any more that weekend.

Colin was disappointed, but he’d had a good ride and didn’t want his pride and joy to get more damaged, so we packed and up and headed home.

About the same time that the low fuel light came on, I noticed in the mirror that one of the straps holding the slab of wood we used as a ramp appeared to have broken. When I pulled into the next petrol station, I confirmed that the strap was broken – one of the straps Janine used when she was floating her horse. I knew I was going to get into trouble when we got back.

After filling up the car with fuel, I opened up the side door to get some more snack food for Colin and me, and the thermos fell out. I picked it up, but the twinkling sound I heard told me that the fall had been fatal. At least the thermos had been empty, as we had used all the hot water earlier.

The rest of the trip was uneventful. Janine was outside when we arrived home.

“Hi, how was your weekend?” I asked.

“Good! Yours?”

I paused to think. DS, chairs, watch, wood, dinner, goggles, bike, fuel, strap, thermos... she’d had a good weekend because Murphy had been camping with Colin and me.

“Fine. It was a really good weekend.”