Published on March 3rd, 2016 | by Boris


I spent a recent Australia Day weekend on a mate’s property, engaging with dirt bikes, high-powered rifles and whiskey-based water-drinks. On the second afternoon, one of the kids face-planted off his Honda 230 and was inside the house being ice-packed and nurtured by his mum, so our attention turned to the damaged dirt-bike.

It was nothing major. Forks were a bit twisted, and certainly nothing that several grown, mighty and vastly experienced men could not deal with.

Naturally, any kind of mechanical sorcery is always accompanied by a mystical and coded language of assumption, expectation and advice. And swearing. Motorcycle repairs cannot be conducted without swearing. It’s in the rules. Without swearing, nothing substantial can be achieved. So I have included it as it was uttered, so that you may bathe in the authenticity of the experience. If swearing offends you, go look at pictures of cats.

Anyway, here is the three-way conversation that accompanied the fork straightening…

“Has he bent the fucken forks?”
“Nah, I reckon they’re just twisted. Hold onto that cunt for a bit.”

“That. No, that, fuckya. That!”

“Hang on a sec, we need to loosen this cunt first.”

“There. That. There. In there. That. Fuck.”
“Where’s the twelve-mil?”

“It’s gone. Here’s a fucken thirteen.”

“Just undo that first, not the bottom triple.”
“I need a twelve.”
“Here’s a shifter. Look, fuck me, just fucken undo it up there. Just loosen it.”

“Which way are you fucken turning it?”
“The way it needs to be turned.”
“Fuck. Turn it the other way.”
“Undo the other three nuts…not those ones, these ones.”

“I’ve fucken undone them.”
“Hold it there. Hold it straight.”
“It’s not fucken straight.”
“Yeah, I’m trying to straighten it.”

“So fucken straighten it. No, the other way.”
“Hang on, I haven’t undone the top triple.”
“You don’t need to undo the fucken top triple, just the bottom one.”
“Push the bars…no, the other way. Stop! Fuck!”
“Is that straight?”
“No, it’s still skewiff.”

“Do up the top triple.”
“Where’s the fucken spanner? I can’t do it up with my fingers.”

“I left it there…no, under the crate. Near that thing.”

“Yeah, just hold it straight.”
“It’s bent.”
“What’s bent? The fork?”
“Nah…yeah…nah…this thing. Look. It’s like fucken ratshit there.”

“It’s not bent. Hang on, don’t do that. Fuck me. What are you doing?”

“Pulling this. Here, fucken hold that.”
“Wait a sec… this fucken thing’s in the way.”

“Look, it’s there. Near that.”
“There. That. Yeah…no…that.”

“Tighten these cunts up.”
“They’re tight.”
“Did you tighten them up?”
“Why are they tight? They should be loose.”
“You said to fucken tighten them.”
“No…yeah… not yet.”
“Hold the front wheel between your legs.”
“Got it. Just push. Hard. Keep pushing. Yeah. That. Fuck. Good. Stop.”
“Is that straight?”
“A bit.”
“We need to undo that again. No, that.”
“You got the bolt?”
“What bolt?”
“For there.”

“Looks straight now.”
“No, it’s still fucking bent. The right fork’s bent a bit.”
“No, it’s not. It just looks like it from there.”
“Looks alright from up here.”
“The top triple is bent.”
“It’s the fork. Undo that. Push it this way a bit.”
“Wait a sec. I’ve got this.”
“Stop pushing!”
“You said to push!”
“No, pull it that way. A bit more.”

“Now it’s crooked the other way.”
“What way? No, it’s not. It’s the fork.”
“The fork’s outta whack.”
“Hit it there with the hammer. Just tap it.”

“Use a block of wood.”
“You hold that, and I’ll pull it this way.”

“My hand! Aaarrghh…”

“What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just do it. No, the other way. Too much. Wait…”
“Look? See? This needs to be here, like this.”

“It’s not, but.”

“I can’t see. Can you see? I can’t see. Where’s that thing?”

“What fucking thing?”
“That thing that goes fucken there, near that.”

“It was there a minute ago. There it is. Under that.”

“See? Look at that. Can you see that? Why is it doing that?”
“It’s straight. It looks straight.”

“Move your head. No. It’s still bent.”

“Where? Here?”
“Just pull it that way a bit.”

“What way? I’m pulling it that way.”

“The other way to that. No, like that.”
“Is that triple still loose?”
“Yeah…hang on…no, it’s done up.”
“Leave it, just hold it like that. There, like that.”
“Straighten it.”
“It’s straight.”
“No it’s not.”
“Yeah, it is, almost.”

“There. More there. That’s it.”
“That look straight?”
“Pretty much.”
“That’ll do.”

“It’s still not straight.”
“It’s close enough.”
“You reckon?”
“He’s 12. He won’t notice.”

And he didn’t.

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About the Author

is a writer who has contributed to many magazines and websites over the years, edited a couple of those things as well, and written a few books. But his most important contribution is pissing people off. He feels this is his calling in life and something he takes seriously. He also enjoys whiskey, whisky and the way girls dance on tables. And riding motorcycles. He's pretty keen on that, too.

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