The motorbike nightmare

Barry Hunter

About two years ago a friend of mine called Phil got a seasonal job on the shores of loch Broom near Ullapool doing fish farming and husbandry. This job included his own cottage and freedom for a few months.

When he got the chance to come home to Inverness to see his friends and family he would come on a wee Suzuki RG 125 motorbike, which he had once sold me and bought back, so he had wheels to make the 60 mile journey back and forth.

One particular weekend he called on me unexpectedly around lunch time and after a couple of beers we discussed what we would do for the day.

"Fancy a trip to my place" he said I looked at him thinking he was joking "2 up on that we thing" I said looking at this dodgy wee motorbike "oh come on it will be a laugh" said Phil.

I fancied the change and had never seen his pad or work place before but I soon got keen on the idea especially since it was a nice day and we would have access to a small motorboat which he used for fish farming. Loch Broom is a beautiful place too.

So I packed a few beers and other things in a rucksack and off we set about 3pm. The time of year was Autumn and as it was quite cold gloves were a must for any one riding a motorbike. It was 60 miles to our destination and the two of us were going to travel it on a daft wee RG 125 but there was a catch. We would have to get there before night fall because the bike had no lights or electrics.

Our journey was ok until about half way when a storm started and it was raining torrentially. It was damn cold especially for Phil whose hands were freezing even with gloves on from the wind and rain so we swapped over for a while.

I could only ride the bike for about a mile because of the rain in my face and by this time darkness was closing in fast and it was getting scary with no lights at all and cars coming in the other direction blowing their horns at us.

Phil took control of the bike again and I felt safer because he knew the road and was more confident on the bike.

A few more miles up the road the nightmare really began when the bike went pop and we were out of petrol with the storm still raging in the middle of no where not a house in sight.

With no option but to walk on with one of us pushing the bike we both made a sorry sight in the night. I was livid with Phil for not putting enough fuel in the bike and myself for getting into this mess.

For about 3 miles down the road neither of us said a word and Phil looked like he was going to cry pushing the bike. We eventually came to a junction with a phone box but both realised we had no change for the phone to call a taxi for the further 10 miles to the cottage. After much reverse charging and pleading we did get a taxi eventually and hid the bike in the bushes to collect the next day. We even had to persuade the driver to give us a credit run because we didn't have enough money.

The story continues and in the end things panned out ok. At least we didn't die of exposure or get killed by an on coming vehicle.

I definitely would not like to repeat the experience but I did learn a couple of important lessons that day.

Submitted by Moureen Leitch on behalf of Barry Hunter loving friend of the late Phillip Leitch.