Hey guys, You know what I'm talking about. You and your mates are all set to do a blokes weekend down the GOR. Tents, sleeping-bags, beer, Stone's Green Ginger Wine and baked beans. It's going to be wet, cold and miserable but you don't care 'cos riding bikes is grouse and the tar on the other side of Apollo Bay (Laver's Hill section) is grippy even when its wet. Then disaster strikes... One of your mates' girlfriends wants to come along. She whinges and moans the whole time. She thumps him on the back forcing him to ride slowly at the back of the pack through the twisties. She tells you its unsafe put an inch of petrol in the empty Stone's bottle, screw the lid on, sit it in the fire and make a nice flamy mushroom cloud (as you do) and wont let her bloke take part in a game of 'flaming' footy. Next year its worse... She's got her learner's permit and a clapped-out old Honda CB250N (She's christened it Nelly and thinks it's good despite everyone telling her she should have bought the CBX250 single instead). You and your mates have to wait forever at the turn-offs for her to catch up and, horror-of-horrors, she actually drops it at a set of traffic lights in Geelong, spraining her ankle. Naturally her bloke has to bail and take her home... Mercifully, the relationship disolved soon after and the mid-winter GOR runs were restored to their former glory. 'Cos let's face it, Chicks and Bikes don't Mix! So, what are your worst chicks and bikes don't mix stories?