In 1978 I bought a good second-hand Honda XL 350 scrambler from a famous motorcycle racing rider, Rodney Gray. Its engine had been modified to a 420 cc capacity and had power far in excess of my needs. In fact it scared me in the beginning, but I finally got used to it and was able to use the extra power in a productive way and with respect.
I remember being a skinny twenty year old and weighing only fifty-eight kilograms. My Honda once leapt forward out of my control, lifted its front wheel and bucked me like a horse would. Seconds later it ploughed into a wire fence. Obviously I had accelerated too much and too quick not expecting or realizing the boost of power. During my teen years my friend Mauro taught me how to ride on the bike’s back wheel with good control, but this required careful thought, focus and control. You needed to understand the power of the machine under you. I never perfected it but Mauro managed it without much effort.
I have always preferred off-road bikes which we called “scramblers”, because they are strong but not too fast. Driving anything at high-speed reduces your ability to control, specially when riding on off-road terrain. Exploring mountains and hills by using the tracks and pathways was exciting and also tested your sight, hearing and reflexes. This was also hard on the muscles but made us fitter than we realised.
I spent my teenage years and early twenties riding for pleasure. First on bicycles and later on motorbikes.
Enzo, another Italian neighbour and friend, also had a Honda like mine. His was black as the night and mine sparkling red. Enzo was big, me much smaller. He was more than twice my weight. Some used to joke and say we are Bud Spencer and Terence Hill. Enzo genuinely looked the part. Same body and beard as Bud. He was stronger than two oxen and had a heart of gold. Everybody liked him. If you never met him you surely missed out on a legend.
Bugs and Enzo - photo © OnsStories.com
We often took the Hondas for rides into the plantations around Pietermaritzburg, our home city. We tried to explore new routes as we were curious youngsters. On one of these rides we were again testing our skills when things went somewhat wrong.
At some point we left the plantations and entered some mountain tracks. After a while we reached the top of the mountain. We then descended again on a different pathway. At times Enzo would lead and then I would overtake him and lead for a while. It was also in us to test each others skills, often riding faster than we should. Sometimes bouncing from one steep slope onto another and often surprising ourselves that we actually managed to stay on the bikes. Not a good idea because we were on unknown terrain and rocky surfaces were scary and many.
The track suddenly narrowed into almost a footpath. We rounded a massive rock and I noticed that the footpath had a massive pothole in it. Miraculously I managed to avoid the hole, the Honda climbed a rock about a foot in height and I was able to land the bike more or less back on track. I snapped both the brakes hard because I sensed Enzo may need help. Enzo wasn’t so lucky. His bike’s front wheel hit the hole with a thud and he got thrown wide over the handlebars. Looking behind me I only saw the black Honda lying in the bush. Although being a very big young man, Enzo was extremely agile and when he hit the deck he rolled himself to soften the impact. He was also a very active rugby player and falling was nothing new to him.
He was lying in thick brush about three meters to the right of the bike. “Bloody hell!” he exclaimed and I knew from his tone of voice that he was going to be okay. He slowly got up and gave me a flathand behind my shoulder-blade which sent me reeling. “You damn Dutchman, why didn’t you warn me?”.
His legs were scraped and bruised but nothing serious. This time we had been lucky to escape with minor injuries. Had he been wearing long trousers or jeans he would have had even less to show for the experience, but Enzo very seldom wore longs and loved his black PT shorts. The black Honda had minor damage and the bent parts were quickly straightened on the spot with his bare hands.
Enzo rode many more times with the “small Dutchman” but insisted to always lead in the bush, just for safety’s sake.
About Bugs
I got my inspiration for this website from the song called “Imagine”, and so I decided to go on this adventure. I have always wanted to put up something like this where my friends and I could express our memories and dreams for the future. Share them with us, because if many people dream the same dream it will certainly come true.
Sounds like such fun!!
Enzo was great, I’m glad I got to meet him. It’s so cool that you guys all stayed friends for so long! By the way, that’s a cool profile photo, Dad!!
Yes Enzo was a legend. A big man with a lot of strength and lots of fun to be with.
Bugs, you did it again. A very good description to prove it as if I was there. I saw it all, well done, keep it up recollecting these experiences and I’ll do the same. I did that somersault over the handle-bars a few times myself, so I know all about it, but lucky as I am I always fell on my back on the soft grass.
Cheers.
Your pal Mauro
Mr Koei, also known as Buggy. Looks like you have a hairstyle from another era, maybe about 30 years ago. Check out the sidies!!!!! Jislaaik boet Ben. Those were the days! MISS YOU BIG TIME!!!! Lorelei Laintjie Lol Porky