Almost exactly 30 years ago, way before many of the current crop of Bikies were even born, an incident occurred that severely irked me.

A certain recreant who had crossed the line ahead of the other lads refused to meet the King unless Momma Dearest, with whom he always shared a room, could tag along too.

On the basis of the supposition that Davey Crockett would have been more likely to shoot the reprobate than admire him, I changed my name from a somewhat Anglicized version of the name I raced under to Davey Crockett.

I've been comtemplating changing it back, but am still undecided. Either way I protect my anonymity although a lady who used to post regularly in the RBR Haydays came close to my real name when she queried one of my anecdotal posts and actually
corresponded with an individual whom I had mentioned in the post to either confirm or shout BS to what was potentially a "Tall Story". But luck was on my side. The guy vividly remembered both me and the incident but fortunately, since the incident
happened 20+ years previously, he had totally forgotten my real name.

Enough. BS for now
Davey

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