Unzippering the main street, the motorbikes with modified mufflers throb into town and congregate at the local waterhole. Outnumbered by black leathers stretched over bellies, locals retreat to corners and shadows to contemplate custom and sip beers. Amongst the stovepipe thin are those that sport dark denim slung under verandahs that middle aged men acquire, much as midlife extensions to otherwise comfortable homes. The barmaid smiles and pulls beers like the professional that she is. The long weekend warriors will be gone by three, their charity toy run another headline on the paper that wraps next week’s fish and chips.