Bikes and bicycles

Sometimes we run out of idea on what to write especially if suddenly you feel that you have not been writing for the past a week or so. A casual talk started on the topic of riding motorbike, Harley Davidson came into the conversation and gave me the theme for the day. Talking about Harley, it is a pricey machine and very exclusive in this part of the world, mainly due to the high import duty. Other than just from performance and the aesthetic points of view, the fans of Harley are also fascinated by the thundering sound of the machine when it roars past us. That reminded me of the British Norton marque bike long time ago when its heavy engine sound ripped through the morning silence of a village, as though the piston was pounding so hard that it shook the ground underneath its wheels. Some other bikers have modified their exhaust pipes just to emulate and get that heavy pounding sound, somehow our discerning ears would be able to tell the difference. I suppose that could be due to the characteristics of the engine design, its air flow pattern, in combination with the bends and turns of the exhaust pipe that give rise to the distinctive and yet unique sound associated with a particular brand of these machines.

Owning a Harley in the East Coast of Malaysia could be a pain. Ramli, a restaurant boss and previous Harley owner had related to me that one has to send the bike all the way to Kuala Lumpur even for the change of lubricating oil. And that sounds ridiculous but it is true!

We Malaysians are more used to smaller capacity bikes of  50-250 cc, and the fact that when we got our driving licence, we are permitted to ride bikes only up to the 250cc and that always limits our range of purchase. Exceeding this range of capacity, one has to take a separate driving test in order to be qualified for riding those big bikes. Big bikes are heavy and it would be difficult to lift them back into upright position once they fall. That reminded me of an incident that happened to me many years ago, that a smaller version of a bicycle fall had given me the imagination on what is it going to be like when one is pinned under a heavy big cc machines such as a Harley or Honda Goldwing:

During certain school holidays my dad would send me all the way to my grandmother working place in a tin mines at the remote outskirt of Kampar town. The landscape of those tin mines areas is mainly of white sands, shrubs and some creepers vegetation that form the favorite food and also a natural habitat for the crickets. It is almost identical and looks like a desert as in White Sand of New Mexico. There was a Chinese medicine herb with unknown name, the branches of which after fully grown would dry up and turn full black with tiny and distinct white round shaped seeds still clinging onto the branches; we named them as "Little Balls Herb". I used to cycle around and collect them in bundles and when my dad came to pick me with his car, we would load them onto the trunk and then sell to the Chinese medicine shops for a couple of dollars. A day of the same routine for me to collect those plants in the white sandy land, suddenlty dark cloud shrouded the sky and the rain was imminent.  I propeled my bicycle to full speed with all my might, an attempt to beat the rain before it started to pour on me. At a path where there was a gentle curve with loose sand, a gentle swerve of the bicycle handle caused me to fall flat and sent me pinned right down under the machine. I stayed motionless, short of breath for a couple of minutes, struggled but could not get myself up. When the rain started to pour, there came my savior, a kind Sikh old man who was looking after the cattles that free ranging those mining lands nearby came to my rescue. When he lifted the bicycle, I was instantly revived and hurried my way home.

In my mind, I am wondering where is this old man once helped me? Could not remember his face, could he be an angel sent down by God just to help me at that moment of time? Even after so many years, I want to thank him for that!