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Holden on a Harley.

Burn it!

By Darren SimpsonPublished 3 years ago 7 min read
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I was playing drums in a five piece rock band back in the mid 90’s called ‘No Special Guests’ aka NSG. We were playing Angels, AC/DC pub rock and we were mainly booked for rough pubs and biker gigs...which is where this story begins.

We got booked for a Hell’s Angels gig at Beaudesert in an industrial area where most biker gigs happen, so I was driving my dad’s Ute, a Holden HK one tonner with my drums on the back. The other guys in the band were getting there under their own steam.

When I pulled up in front of the industrial shed where we were about to play, I looked at the usual set up, which was a driveway heading up into the shed...two bikers at the gate taking entry fees and a rough hessian fence running around the perimeter. In front of the hessian fence was a little two foot brick wall running about 50 meters along the perimeter where the bikers had parked and lined up their bikes.

So I drove my Ute up to the gate, the guys saw my drums on the back of the Ute, and waved me through. I drove uphill to where it levelled off, parked up, unloaded the drums onto the dodgy stage, which had been erected at the back of the shed. The shed itself, was equipped with a bar, stripper poles and everything else you can think of that a biker needs.

The rest of the band turned up, we set up our gear and proceeded to rock. After three hours of playing, we finished the ‘job’ with all the bikers happy. (Led Zeppelin will always make the bikers happy!)

As I am a drummer I am always the first to enter and last to leave the building, so while I watched the guitarists and singer pack up and leave, I reversed my dad’s Ute up the driveway to where I had originally unloaded my drums. Got out of the car and started walking towards the stage where my drums were packed up and ready to go.

After about five of six steps I started hearing men screaming and yelling “what the fuck??” “Fuck!! Fuck!!” “Shit!!” Etc. I turned around and the Ute was not there! All I could see was the shadow from the street light shining through the hessian fence and shadows from left to right of handlebars, handlebars, handlebars, the outline of a Ute, more handlebars and bikers climbing the two foot perimeter wall under the hessian fence with eyes as big as dishes as I was walking towards them.

One of them looked at me like I was dead already! I said to him “how many did I get?” He said “you got lucky Mate, you only hit a ‘skirtster’ . There was a ‘FatBob there a minute ago”. I continued walking down towards to shadow of the Ute through the fence, and more and more bikers were looking underneath the fence towards me.

I climbed underneath the fence, jumped down the wall and walked towards the now crowd which had gathered in front of the Ute. They didn’t know who I was at the start, but I will never forget looking down at the front of the Ute, which had jumped the wall and totally landed on top of a Harley aka ‘skirtster’, it reminded me of the wizard of oz, where the house had landed on top of the wicked witch, and all you could see were her shoes, because all I could see was the ends of the handlebars!!

The most angry of the drunk bikers started saying “Holden On A Harley!! BURN IT!!” he grabbed the Ariel and snapped it clean off. A cheer went up! I couldn’t watch my dad’s Ute get burned, so I yelled out “leave my dads Ute alone!!” The most angry drunk biker turned round and said “There he is!! It’s the drummer!” I repeated, “leave my dad’s Ute alone!” Then he started going for the windscreen wiper and I was getting ready to go him. Someone in the background shouted “Burn it! burn it!” And then then chant began! Angry biker said “have you even got a license?” And I pulled out my wallet and gave him my learners permit. He held it up and said “look!! He hasn’t even got a license - BURN IT! BURN IT!”

Just then, a voice of reason came out of the crowd. He was big, he was bearded, he was tattooed and he was a member of the God Squad. And he said “hang on boys! Let’s just check something first! If the handbrake is not on, we burn it... if the handbrake is on, we don’t burn it.” The crowd rumbled to agreement, they all came round to the driver’s side door where the God Squad biker opened it up and they all looked down at the handbrake which was down. One of the ‘burn it’ crew yelled out “look! It’s down! Burn it! Burn it!” Which incited the crowd to start yelling again “BURN IT! BURN IT!” With fists in the air, And I was thinking “FUCK!”

The God Squad biker raised his almighty hand in the air and said “wait boys! Wait! Let me check it”.

Now, in a HK one tonne Ute the handbrake is on the right hand side between the door and the driver’s seat. When you pull this up, it locks then you can let it back down again, so that you can get in and out of the car. When you want to disengage the handbrake, you pull it up until you feel it grab, then you pull a little harder, then it will release, and then you can let it down.

The God Squad biker got down on one knee down, showed the crowd that with his his index and middle fingers together, lifted up the handbrake until it grabbed and said “it was on boys, it was on!” There was a lot of booing and unhappiness that they didn’t get to burn it!

So then, the recovery mission began. They got the bike out from under the Ute, they rode it up and down the street, but if you wanted to go in a straight line, the handlebars had to be at a 45 degree angle! The guy that owned it, wasn’t there that night... he had loaned it to his mate!

The next day I went up to my dad, and he said to me “how was your gig last night, mate?” And I said”....memorable” and he said “why, what happened?” So I told him what had happened and that we have to go and see the owner of the Harley who lives about an hour and half away to get the insurance sorted out. Now as I was on a learners permit, I had no insurance so my dad decided he was going to say that he was driving the Ute when it jumped the perimeter wall and landed on the Harley..... so off we went to Beaudesert.

When we got to the ‘oasis in the desert’ my dad said “this guy’s not short a buck or two”. We got out of the Ute, walked down the driveway where we met a six foot four, bearded, tattooed 140 kg biker. We introduced ourselves and dad said to the biker, we will call him Dave, “how much is it going to cost to fix the bike?” Dave said “I’ve had quotes, it will be aroun $1500.00.” Dad said with the insurance forms in his hand “ if you say I was driving the Ute, and sign this, it will all be done and dusted”.

Until around this time, I hadn’t noticed that Dave’s patches on his leather vest that he was wearing, were God Squad patches! I looked at dave, dave looked at dad, dad looked at dave waiting for Dave’s answer. Dave was deep in thought. He said “I’m not happy about lying”. Now this is coming from a six foot four bearded, tattooed monster... even my dad looked at me sideways! Then my dad said , “well, take one good look at him, because this is the last time you will see him” he could be in Melbourne, Sydney ... take your pick”. Dave looked at dad intensely and said... “where do I sign?”

You can’t make this shit up!

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