Never have I lived anywhere that has such a generous spirit. We're also pretty lucky that when we do get our charity on, it's not just a boring collection-bucket outside a shop. Don't get me wrong, that's effective and very much needed, but over 150 motorbikes roaring through the Mount and
Tauranga floats my boat just a touch more!
Every year the Ulysses Motorcycle Club gets its members and general leather-clad bike lovers together out the Mount and ride the long way to the TrustPower TECT Rescue Chopper hangar behind Tauranga Hospital. They fill the back of a ute with toys for the poor little mites in the children's ward of the hospital - and if that wasn't enough they buy more raffle tickets and badges than any individual should, with all of the proceeds going to the chopper.
Their motto is "getting old disgracefully". It's on their leather jackets. The club is specifically for "older" bike enthusiasts. On the outside they look like any other biker organisation. There are loud bikes, more facial hair than a ZZTop convention, the faint whiff of too many ciggys and a plethora of wrap-around Dirty Dog-like sunnies. But when you chat to these fantastic people you realise all they want is to hang out with some like-minded people and have a laugh. And laugh I did. Mostly at a lady named Jan.
Jan is a shorter, older lady. She's got a loud voice that is sweet and scary as hell all at the same time. She's got short grey hair, Wayfarer sunglasses, bright orange high-vis vest with her name on it and she's shaking a bucket in your face. Jan should work in debt collection. She emptied my pockets of coins. I bet her grandkids behave themselves! She's also one of the most kind-hearted and good-natured people there. Everyone else is just a dulled-down version of Jan (thank God).
As you can imagine, they have a good time. One of my favourite parts of the parade is seeing people's reaction when they hear a police siren (the cops do a brilliant job of shutting off the intersections) then just a rumble of motors.
