V-Rex—Wild Aussie Design
It all started back in December of 2003, in Sydney, Australia, when 3D designer Tim Cameron sketched a cruiser motorcycle on a scrap of paper. Using his 3D computer modelling skills, Cameron began to build his dream bike in the only place he thought it could ever exist, the self-contained virtual 3D world inside his computer.
Enter engineering genius and bike builder extraordinaire, Christian Travert, based in Florida, USA. Something struck Christian about the futuristic design and he found himself beginning to apply his considerable engineering talents to some of the gnarlier problems posed by Cameron’s design. In September 2005, Christian sent Cameron a short email in which he simply stated: “I can build it.”
Rebels Dubbo Bike Show from a Different Angle
words & pics by George Lang
George does some mathematical calculations and comes up with the right angle for a ripper party with the Dubbo Rebels…
“GEORGE” I hear Skol’s voice in the phone, “I want you to cover the Dubbo show from a different angle.”
“What do you mean?” I ask worriedly. I have reason to be worried as I wasn’t very good at geometry in school.
“I want you to write about the show from a different angle. Do you understand?” says Skol again after I failed to respond
My first response is a panic attack. ‘I’m in shit’, I think. It’s time for improvisation. “Me no speak ingrish,” I say in my best woggy accent. “Me no have any uncle home.”
It doesn’t work.
“Every time you go to Dubbo it’s raining,” continues Skol. “This time I want you to write it from a different angle. You know, something like riding in the sunshine.”
He doesn’t wait for my answer and puts the receiver down.
‘Fine’, I think. A little bit less panicky. Skol is going to ensure that I will arrive at Dubbo as dry as a nun’s cunt. Remembering last year’s storm I can feel goose bumps rising on my back. It was a miracle I wasn’t struck by any lightning then. I am pleased that Skol has connections up there in the sky and I don’t need to worry about the wet gear as I don’t have any left anyway. I lost it two years ago riding in Dubbo while on the poker run.
Saturday comes and I am soaked wet in Bathurst. So far so good to trust the boss about the bloody weather. And I’m supposed to write the article from a different angle. All my good intentions were blown out by ghostly wind and the rain. I can’t afford to look for another job, and honestly, if I would get kicked out there wouldn’t be any golden handshake awaiting me. The most I would be getting would be a golden shower which I am not so keen to have. I can hardly cope with the natural one that assaulted me just now. Finally Skol’s message comes through and someone up in the sky switches the shower off.
Before I attend the bike show I go to the poker run and I come to the clubhouse pretty fucked as I do not know my way around Dubbo and it takes me an extra two hours to get back after I’ve been lost somewhere between Wellington and Canberra.
Anyway, at the Rebels clubhouse, Blinky takes pity on me and saves my arse from certain death by dehydration and alcohol deprivation. Having bourbon in both my hands I am trying to take some pics which becomes increasingly harder as the time progresses. But I do my best to comply with the wishes of my boss fearing the consequences of the failure.
The problem is I do not remember any of the sponsors’ names and none of the bike show winners. I have the feeling that Blinky saved my arse from dehydration only for one purpose—to lynch me after he finds out that I didn’t write them down
With the time passing my limping became more noticeable as the bourbon flood continues and finally it turns into a staggering and eventually into me disgracefully passing out.
I came around twice as I was motivated by the wet T-shirt comp and the erotic dancers. I’m glad that I managed to witness them—they were the best I’ve seen for a very long time.
On the motorcycles, there was a little girl going by the name of Kirrily Bloink who made a lasting impression on the crowd. The little devil is only nine years old and she was doing a burnout like an old salted pro. And fuuuck, she started to ride only two weeks before the show was on! What a talent. I can see that daddy is going to lose his Harley very soon. Good on you girl!
There were more young talents around. Young blokes and blokettes on their trial bikes were very talented. One day, when they grow old enough, they will change their toys for a real deal, I bet my left ball on it.
I am not sure how many members heard the last band that performed that night but I remember that they started with three members but later I’ve noticed that they were actually six—every member having a twin that was moving exactly the same way with the same instrument. And I got a bit worried as I looked at my fingers and counted ten of them on each hand. Not wanting to look different from the rest of the population I tried to remove the excess but due to my disposition I wasn’t able to do so.
The problems didn’t end there but continued by failing to find the right bed that the hosts provided. With two beds exactly the same I had a hard time to choose which one was the real one, and I ended up falling on the floor. In the end I gave up, not able to stand up anymore.
Miraculously I woke up on the right bed and with five fingers on each hand. That was the only good news for the day. The rest was my sore head was spinning so fast that if it had blades I would fly like a chopper. Also my guts refused to stay in one place and the stomach nearly succeeded in crawling out through my mouth.
I am in a sad condition now, I can’t even sit up to write the article. I’m doing it by lying on my back. It is definitely a different angle from a sitting position that I’m used to. At least Skol will be pleased with me succeeding to write this article from a different angle! Just if I could remember the sponsors’ and winners’ names…
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