The Secret Life of a Bikie

Bikie (n): A motorcyclist, with connotations of gang affiliation; A biker.

Editor’s Note: Scooteroo Tours no longer operates, but I still felt like this was a fun experience to share.

I have a confession to make. I’m terrified of motorcycles. My uncle once offered to give me a ride. I turned it down. My boss here in Sydney offered me a ride after work, since we lived down the street from one another. I took the train instead. I’ve seen so many news reports about fatal crashes that it put me off them.

In between the camping of Fraser Island and the boozing and cruising on the Whitsundays, I stopped for a few days in the sister towns of Agnes Water and 1770, where good ole Captain Cook stopped off for the first time in Queensland.

There’s not a whole lot to see here, except for super cheap surf lessons and scuba diving, but the one thing I knew I had to try was the Scooteroo tours. I had heard rave reviews from friends who had already gone up the coast and decided it was the perfect place to conquer my fear.

I was picked up at my hostel at 2 p.m. by a blonde surfer boy from San Diego. Go figure. Once we arrived at Scooteroo headquarters, we got decked out in leather jackets and helmets with flames and put on temporary tattoos, so we could look like real badasses. They played “Born to Be Wild” to get us in the mood to ride.

After picking my American flag bike, straight out of Easy Rider, we were taken on the test track, where we sorted out all that how to stop and how to go nonsense. I must admit that I wasn’t very good because they kept me on that practice loop for almost an hour before deciding I was ready for the road.

Taking the bikes on the road was much easier because the ground was even. I was even able to relax a bit. We went through a neighborhood with kangaroos everywhere, in every resident’s front yard, chomping away on grass. It was so odd to see so many outside of a zoo. Later on we went to the 1770 Harbor, where we watched the sun set over the boats and chowed down on wedges.

I’m not saying I’m rushing out to buy a Harley, especially since these 50 cc bikes were barely a step up from mopeds, but maybe I won’t turn down rides on motorcycles anymore.