Just to prove to you all that I am indeed a true blond, I undertook the following escapade, just to keep you entertained! So I hope all you bods out there appreciate the effort this took As some of you know, I recently spent a week in Canberra, then joined the group in Merimbula for the ride back to Melbourne. While in Canberra the weather was too crap to ride far, so I wandered around the bike shops to look at the gear scene up there. Wanting to upgrade my old DriRider I found myself a nice little bargain, and was then faced with the conundrum of not having room to carry home an extra, armoured jacket on top of all the gear I already had with me. (I had been away 2 weeks by this time) So the solution was to post home the old jacket and snuggle up in the new warm one. All well and good, until the sneak blond attack struck! Jackets have pockets. Bike keys normally go in pockets after a ride. Normally, one would check, at least once, the aformentioned pockets before committing it to the caring arms of AusPost. Oh, sure, I had emptied the pockets a few days before when taking it to Cash Converters to see if there was any hope of them offering a realistic price for it, but I had been on the bike since then, hadn't I? And the brain said yes, you have checked your pockets, they are empty... :evil: Some habits are good, since I know where my keys are, but in this case knowing where they were and accessing them were 2 entirely different matters!!! So I go out to my bike early Saturday morning, hoping to leave form Merimbula by 10am so I can have some fun on the way. The weather had turned into clear blue skies, glorious, the plans were to head for the coast and enjoy all the bendies I could discover. Instead, the next hour involed turning the room I'd been staying in upside down, unpacking and repacking my daypack, and repeatedly checking Draggin pockets etc, just knowing the obvious! So then started a round of phonecalls, trying to see if there was any way to get a key cut - it's all very well having 2 spares when they are both at home... That avenue was a deadend, even if Suzuki did still hand out key codes to whoever had read the Serial Number off the rego sticker, if was a Sat morning and was there anyone at Suzuki??? They kindly gave out a number for Spare Parts on a taped message, though they cleverly ensured that the poor overworked bods at that facility would never be harrassed by desperate keyless riders, as they sneakily only gave 7 out of 8 digits for the phone number. Even listening to the tape a second time didn't convince them to alter their cruel stance. So the scene unfolded of a bike being lifted onto a dodgy old trailer - yes, the steering lock was on! - and driving it out to a bike shop where they proceeded to pull the ignition apart (after having to drop the forks to get the steering lock off!) and turn my normally pretty standard Across into the latest, updated hotwired version. Now at last could I claim to have a unique bike!!! Much mirth was had in Merimbula when I finally arrived, having left at 3.30pm and missed all chance of a fun burn down the coast. I just hightailed it through Cooma and then across to Merimbula, arriving there around 6-6.30pm - after much cursing of the absolutely pissweak headlight Suzuki provided for all the Urban Sports riding only under streetlamps they expect us to do. :evil: Being last to arrive, I parked the overloaded bike in the only remaining space in front of all its bigger brothers. With much mirth by the totally unsympathetic onlookers I proceeded to attach the lock and chain as a surrogate steering lock. Yes, I agree, with all those other bikes who would want to steal an Across? But which other bike there could you have just jumped on and ridden away??? I continued to entertain the rest of that unruly mob with my antics to access various facets of the bike the next day. The ignition I could switch on and off via a toggle switch that had been wired in. (Just a little less conspicuous than twisting 2 wires together every time I wanted to start!) But it did not activate the fuel tank release nor the boot release. Hence, the fuel lid cover was cable-tied open and another utilised as a surrogate seat release (no key for that either!) And to release the seat I needed to do to access the emergency release for the boot, activated via a screwdriver - which I had to keep borrowing! Once the luggage was loaded though, I had to enlist the help of other hands to lift the front corner of the seat so I could spring the release, as it was far too much a hassle to unload everything to lift the seat. Hence missing out on the fun at the hoon corner as it took me forever to get out my camera! So therein lies my tale of mirth and amusement for the masses. Now I lay the challenge for anyone to better that 'truely blond' effort! C'mon gys, there must be some pearlers out there, that can at least come close!!! Tell us your tales, take up the challenge! Hey, you can even go out and do some dumb things just so you can tell us!!!