RIDING THE CAN-AM TO THE END OF THE EARTH ANOTHER CAN-AM
THE TRILOGY PAR DEUX ANOTHER CAN-AM
other things. A haircut!
I duly tell everyone where I’m going and set off to Stanley town. Its been snowing again and
as there are NO roads in the Falklands apart from one side street in town and a bit of tarmac
from Sir Rex Hunt’s place running along the seafront to the Port, snow doesn’t really become a
hazard and just highlights the muddy track.
just follow the track and then oh, oh! What’s this? A hump back wooden bridge with the middle
missing so, turn round go back about 100 yards, line her and let her rip!
PE handles well and I’m over the hazard and on my way. As I land I see another Can-am coming
the other way with a rider (I use the word advisedly) flailing around in the mud with both feet
and looking like the proverbial “sack of spuds”
Into town and eventually locate the red and white pole of the barber’s shop and can’t help but
think was it worth coming all this way to put the Union Jack back up?
The Barber’s shop and the Infamous double Yellow Line
Neanderthal Man, covered in mud all over his camo uniform.
Out we go dressed for the cold and standing by my machine in the piled up snow Neanderthal
drags out his notebook and of course by now I recognize him as A Corporal in the Military Police
“You are parked on a double yellow line”
“ How am I supposed to know that?”
“Your machine does not have license plates and a UK tax exempt disc”
“ It might have escaped your notice Cpl but we are not in the UK and as there are NO roads I
don’t think The Road Traffic Act applies?”
“You WAS Exceeeeeding the Garrison speed limit”
“What Garrison is this you speak of?”
“I’m going to have to report this to my Superiors, and YUUUUU, have to get that bike fixed and
behave like an Ossifer and ride sitting down”
“Best you do, good day”
direction and the colors of the houses leave you wondering what on earth they are like inside.
Whatever color paint came in on the supply ship then on the house it goes! Black, Red, Pale Blue,
Peach, Pink, Yellow, Green and any combination of all of the above… GHASTLY!
Every color in the Rainbow!
power from the Bombardier engine. As I come over a crest there is none other than Cpl Rossner
of the Military Police once again coming the other way, once more we pass and I nod knowingly
and then over my shoulder see Neanderthal trying to turn round and follow me.
studying an upcoming exercise when one my assistants says there’s a Policeman who wants to
He won’t take his boots off, so we don’t let him in!
some 1st Lieutenant in Garrison HQ and he will read it to me.
Neither of us can keep a straight face as the fax rumbles on about how the “Accused was seen
STOODING on the Footrests” and that the Wing Commander is to instruct the Squadron Leader
to stop STOODING and sit down!
The Wing Commander replies that he thanks Cpl Rossner for his diligent application of the Road
Traffic Act but as Squadron Leader Down has ridden many long distance off road competitions
including 8 Scottish Six Days and 2 ISDT”s for the Military he is applying many years experience to
fully controlling a motorcycle in off road conditions that exist here in the Falkland Islands and is
indeed willing to offer some lessons to the Military Police so that they too can maintain control on
these less than perfect and challenging surfaces.
My Boss in the Falklands, Chris Coville, now a 4 Star, presenting me with my 2000 Hours F4 Patch
rocketing for a Principle! All drinking water was sent down in a Supertanker and it was so big that
it was moored in the outer harbor and they tell me had enough water on board for 98 years,
don’t ask how you calculate that. Another supertanker was berthed alongside with all our
aviation fuel and then several “food ships” with provisions for the 5000. Always nice when you
ate through another level as with good old military efficiency we had 5 feet of Broccoli in the hold
to get through before we got to Peas! Same deal on the meat……pork, pork, pork, and more pork
….. then BEEF!
onwards and none of them with a double figure IQ! No roads, no papers, no radio or TV, no
animals without lungworm, no trees (too windy) just bullet hard granite and peat bog, with some
tussock grass thrown in. Our Argentinean friends have mined the entire coastline, and now so
have we, in case they come back, and all for what? It might have been an idea to say to the
“ Look here’s an idea, how’s about we give every manjack of you $2,000,000.00 and we will fly
you anywhere in the world you want to go and then that’s IT!”
that way when it went off as you could see the blast before the shock wave and noise got to
you. 100 tons of explosive daily to get rocks for the engineers to try and build roads, but by
dayfall it had disappeared in the peat. The Rock Crushers that came down from the UK could not
get through this granite and I expect they are still laying there amongst all the other debris. So
the big BANG theory every day at 1200 and then nightly entertainment as the “Rock Hopper
Penguins” came ashore and found one of “ours” or one of “theirs” and went to the big
Antarctica in the sky.