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Hello glorious netizens, It has been suggested to me that you might not all be completely bored if I regaled you with tales of my misadventures. There are a lot of them, and they all involve motorcycles. I set off to ride around the world on my KTM 690 Enduro nearly 5 years ago; I thought it might take me 18 months, anyway here I am still stuck in a jungle in Thailand. Five years ago I was five years younger and looked (and felt) 5 years older after a brief but prematurely aging career in the law. That's where it all started, and here is the very old video that goes with it: Anyway, if you would like to hear further dispatches from the road, let me know. You can also catch my blog at www.bikehedonia.wordpress.com and my daily updates on www.facebook.com/bikehedonia should you be so inclined. Cheers, Grace

I heard a rumour that the median age in this group is not that low, well I have no sympathy. I just spend a day in the jungle with a bunch of old men who throw themselves up cliffs every sunday for fun. Compete I cannot. Oh hell no. Learn, I will. I was going to add a video but apparently that format's not supported so you're just going to have settle for a photo and use your imagination. Anyway these guys are masters, not just of trials but enduro too. I have realised that I need these skills if I want to ride enduro with people who are bigger, stronger and longer of leg than me. Learning from an Japanese guy who's nearly 70, well, that's the day I don't get to complain about how everyone is bigger and stronger than me. These guys are legends.

That's m'name innit.......Ian. My fellow draftsman is called Et Tu Brute. I don't think he's from round here.

So, sit down, make yourself a cup of tea: let's talk about Indonesia, my absolute favourite place to ride, ever. In Indonesia, every biker is your bro, every club is your club, everyone's mum is cooking you dinner. Now, when I say Indonesia I don't mean Bali, I mean the other bits. Flores, Sulawesi, Sumatra, Java... places where you show up and everyone asks, "yes, but WHY are you here?" because no madwoman on a KTM ever rocked up to their village before. (Maybe that's a good thing...? Anyway) Anyway highlights - and literally, this is a highlight because the elevation is noticeable, enough to make you chilly. Tana Toraja. Up in the mountain tops of Sulawesi, one of the places with some of the world's most complex, expensive and denialist rituals for dealing with the dead. * * * High in the volcanic mountains of Sulawesi, just scraping the underside of the clouds, is a land for both the living and the dead. In the West we tend to fear our mortality and hide away the corporeal reminders, but in Tanah Toraja I found myself sitting on a cliffside ledge, watching little boys play in front of the skulls of their ancestors. * * * The air cools and the roads narrow as you gain altitude, climbing further up the jagged spine of the island. Signs advertising beer start to appear on the roadside shops and warungs, signposting a transition from a Muslim area to one where the people profess a mix of Christianity and the old beliefs. I have a phone number and a map location. My friend Aditya in Makassar has sent me off northward with an introduction to a friend of his, a fellow biker who lives up here in the mountains. Tony is orang Toraja, and on the hill opposite his home, the ancient village of Kete Kesu houses his ancestors in ornate tombs and ossuaries. Since this is Indonesia, where bikers are family, I have an invitation to stay at Tony's place and my only challenge is finding it. After a few wrong turns, I have success: the rain is just starting to fall as I find Tony and park the bike in front of one of his cousin's houses. Tony's place is built further up the hill - one modern style home in a row of traditional Toraja houses - but the track is too slippery to get the bike up there in the rain. No problem: the bike is safe here. Tony and some of his cousins help me carry my bags up the hill. He is a bachelor, but he lives surrounded by family. It's almost a family compound, with a row of ordinary houses facing a row of traditional meeting houses. Soon I am comfortably installed in a spare bedroom at Tony's place. My damp boots have been set out to dry and I dig into my pack to find the gift that I'm carrying for Tony from Aditya. It's a fabulous orange riding jersey commemorating a ride up the length and breadth of Sulawesi. They had stopped and visited with Tony on their way through Tana Toraja too, and the jersey is a thank you gift. On the back, it says 'TUA' - ostensibly an acronym for 'Together, United, Adventure' but of course 'tua' also means old. It's a cheeky stab at the age of the your average big bike adventure rider, and I love it. I look forward to aging into mine. * * * Now let's shift gears a little - enough of the living - let's talk about the dead. The Toraja people are known for their elaborate funerary rites. It can take years to prepare and complete all the proper ceremonies to lay a relative to rest and release the soul from the body. Until this is done, they are described as sick, and the slowly mummifying body is cared for like a living person. After the massive and elaborate funeral – often years later – the mummified deceased are interred in carved ossuaries clinging to the cliffs and caves that tower over the village. The people go and visit their ancestors there. Gradually the ancestors become bones, skeletons. Over the centuries, wood will disintegrate and bones will spill out. They are sometimes gathered up again, skulls placed in rows; other times, the bones are allowed to remain in place, tangled, distinctly human. Children sit on the cliff ledges, watching Youtube videos on cheap smart phones next to their skeletal ancestors. I walk up the cliff path, and sit for a while. An invited guest. Here at Kete Kesu is where Tony’s relatives lie in rest. His cousin points out the carved likenesses of people who have passed, and invites me to take photographs if I want. My western upbringing tells me that this is not proper – to photograph the bones of someone else’s relatives. But here, it seems that people feel differently. Everything has the meaning you give it. When I go to leave, I am forcibly accosted by a Javanese visitor who seems to think that I'm far more interesting to photograph than any of the funerary relics. No worries; this is how I pay my social taxes here, I figure: they can take as many photos as they like. But before I leave, I take one more photo of my own - a photo of my darling, my sweetheart, in all her dualsport glory.

A few raindrops on the Salal leaves....

Riding to the coast through my favourite roads over the hills near my place New tarmac but plenty of dirt around to keep you on your toes And just for @Catteeclan

I know what you mean about mixing fuel for EC300s and how they go like the clappers... I forgive them everything, including the inconvenience, just for the power-to-weight ratio. My friends over here are all getting around on KLX250s, no power and I can't lift the damn things. Still, sometimes EC300s get sleepy too...

Ah ha ha interesting, a lot of the commodities being exported from Thailand were not known for being sweet smelling - the 70s would have been the last gasp of local opium rather than that simply in transit from Afghanistan and Myanmar, and that has a nasty ammonia smell... I don't know about the ganja, I always reckon that's an acquired taste. And let's not talk about the shrimp paste haha. But shady allusions aside, smells are so important in Thailand. The PEOPLE smell wonderful. Instead of kissing like Westerners, your Thai sweetheart is more likely to put their lips against your cheek and inhale your scent deeply. It's initially disconcerting but quite sensuous.

Just got sent the draft traffic order notices for my new scheme to proof read. I won't paste the whole thing because it tells you how to object at the bottom. Drawing still a work in progress, but we start building on December 3rd, Gas board are doing something first so I have to wait for them to get out of the way. Using my new drawing frame, I've added shadows this year. I've started work on the area just below now, my dog turd roundabout and location for the burial of my time capsule.

It’s a pity fuck.

We had Chili Con Carne this evening for dinner, absolutely NO chips were involved

on my way , you best fuck off out for an hour @Swagman

I was pretty stunned at first, and then the kids were just hanging out amongst the bones like it was no big thing, and I thought, hey when in Rome...

Post them all up Grace......we need more contributions from real motorcyclists! Unlike this bunch of Casuals that I'm lumbered with.

I rode my KLR like a trials bike once, n ow i have three wheelchairs.

They're impractical really, even the auto mix bikes like the CRM, you can't always trust the mix and they use nearly twice as much fuel so you can't have a route that doesn't include nearby fuel stops They are great fun and give max power for minimum weight, my GasGas EC300 was a monster on power, I got it up to nearly 80mph over the rocks on Sarn Helen coming back down towards the gate :), it's capable of higher speeds not not with me on it over rocks , my two CRM's were awesome too and I remember my old RD250LC was quite a beast in it's day

Thank you very much - in that case, with your permission, I shall continue to spam you with stories

Do you refer to yourself as ' I Powell ' you know like in ' I Claudius '

I recon I could get up that on that trials bike, I know @Sir Fallsalot could. That's not bragging just the fact that we come across rock steps when we're out trail riding, perhaps not that high but enough on a trail bike (there's a difference). More power to those guys , I'm 63 and I'm minus a leg but I still get down and dirty

H2 750 Kawasaki!

I dont want to brag butt at almost 63 i do at least three or four really stupid human tricks a day and most cause blood flow.

Out with some mates a few years ago

Are you allowed to change your vote before it ends like other polls on here ? Asking for a friend

Oh, you still are. But, somehow you've attracted a real traveler

Done, I shall continue spouting about the nice riding weather (sleet? is that what happens when the temperature drops being 20C?? sounds nasty) Also happy birthday for 31 December before everyone forgets

Please continue @Grace (BikeHedonia) most of us are losing dailight, winters setting in, nothing to do, things like snow sleet hell hail are coming up, cant forget my worldwide birthday party on new years eve whoo hoo...

Tends to read better than "Dirty Cunt" Bob!

My 500 titan was mr mellow. Seemed like she;d do it forever...last time a suzuki ever gaveme that warm and fuzzy feeling tbh.

They were more peaky than the 750......on-off power switch!

I am just going to take a moment to appreciate the glory which is naming a motorcycle "Hustler". Ah yes.

Yes they are , we have two 2-stroke racers in our workshop, A TZ250 and a RG500

There are still some small capacity 2-stroke bikes available here, but the bigger ones are mostly older and people want silly money for them now. Saw a Suzuki 250 Hustler for sale on a selling site here recently and it wasn't priced too bad, but getting parts for a 50 year old bike could be a challenge!

All the best enduro riders started out doing Trials, David Knight, Graham Jarvis and many others MX riders simply cannot handle the gnarly stuff, been out with a few and they always head for the nearest fire road to get them home by mid morning LOL

Here!......it's my happy place!............sometimes.

If those creepy little fuckers had bikes you know exactly what they'd be riding! After all, it's not Beemers that are gay icons.

is that an invite, should i pack my budgie smugglers ?

Why is this all memories? Are you guys still allowed to run two-strokes in the UK/europe as long as they're vintage? I realise they would heartily fail all emissions standards

Which turn in to the best east end gangster accent you've ever heard and everyone shit themselves?

Would someone unstable take this to sea last night to land on a rock thats not above water?

Always a laugh a minute here! We're not one of those dreadful places which is like a Manic Depressives Newsgroup interspersed with DIY tips. What you say @Clive?

Oh i see. Just been and had a laugh

We've got a thread going for his kind!

Tammy wheelied one into a new jersey telephone pole once.

See, you're a legend. Doing stupid stuff keeps you both young and legendary. Us grasshoppers need role models to look up to

One part of me goes, what the heck are they doing that for..... The other part of me goes.....COOL & Impressive.....

Although I remember being told a story of new two stroke imports being banned in NSW decades ago because the power to weight ratio on this particular model was too crazy and too many young men were obliterating themselves. The model was just referred to as 'the widow maker' by the story teller.... I would like to know what model that actually was and if the story is true

My kind of place...