Saturday morning started much the same as Friday morning for me. I think somebody had slipped some alcohol into my rum and coke cans. I suddenly felt a lot better after I saw the Nerang Tyre Shop boys who looked as if they had all been in a fight with a rabid gorilla. Seems that the demise of the Jog Scooter had not deflated their fun the previous night as they, and the 4X4 they had come in, were completely covered in mud. I just had to work out where they'd been......

Saturday saw the start of the public showing up, and fuck me did they come in thier droves! What a great sight! It was about now that we realised we had a drag strip to sort out, made from a decommissioned runway and "that blue box over there". After 3 hours of pressing buttons, moving sensors and ringing the people that hired us the gear

we admitted defeat and went with a "Grudge Match" set up (i.e. Christmas tree but no timing). As it turns out, not many people gave a shit as they didn't stop at the 1/4 mile, they just hammered on to see what top speed they could get at the end of the runway. All you could see was teeth where the eyes should be in the helmets of the returning bikes.

I then discovered I'd shot myself in the foot, as me and Ben were the only ones who knew how to work the lights, which meant I was stuck there until I could get someone else to take the time to work it out. Bugger. From the reports I got Sammo (who had dislocated his knee just two days before and was walking on crutches), Pesh and the other stunt boys were going off big time down at the other end, and Stu was doing some interview with a TV crew?! Where the fuck did they come from?

The runs were thick and fast all day until about 4pm when we decided to take a half hour break. This is when the stunt boys came over and did some high speed stuff, much to the delight of the locals who had set up camp next to the track with a gazebo and about 15 cases of beer. They weren't goin' nowhere!

At 6 O'clock we shut everything down to comply with the campground policy and headed into the club house (also on site) where 3 bands pounded out some fuckin' LOUD music! I think we might need to allow for an outdoor marquee next year!

I bumped into Kev shortly after the band finished (actually I bumped into most things). Kev was our floor headbutter from the night before. He spent the night in hospital and had some nice stitches in his head.

De Ja Vu! I'm sure I felt like this recently, except today is worse, much worse, so much worse that the egg and bacon roll looks like it might beat me up. (It remained on my ute seat for the whole day, in fact I think it's still there now...). The realisation that we had "broken even" (as far as money paid out for the event was concerned) the night before had made me a Stu celebrate a little harder than we realised.

The only way to clear my head was to go for a ride. I'd missed the group ride the day before due to trying to work out bloody timing lights but today I was going no matter what - in fact I ended up leading the group. (How did that happen?) So after the ASF group photo we headed out. Jeff from Rapid Bikes Magazine came for a spin as well but we cut it short due to the fact we had a burnout competition to watch at 11, oh, and also the fact that the foot peg bolt had sheared on Ben's bike (which Stu was borrowing) after the stand was left down and hit the

ground in the middle of a corner. I did mention Stu was probably still pissed didn't I? A dilated sphincter, much the same as Brad's from a few days previous, was to occur for Stu also.

The amount of people ready to hit the runway when I got back was awesome. Some pro bikes had turned up and the Turbo street bikes were lighting up in every gear for the crowd.

The one I looked forward to seeing each time was Pete's Turbo Busa powered GSXR750 (which we mentioned Kev found earlier). That thing is madder than.... I don't know, something very mad. He managed to blow the gear box up the previous day by shifting it into 1st at ludicrous speed due to forgetting about the race shifter being in reverse. He still managed to rebuild it and have it on the track today!

Stu must have REALLY overcooked the night before as he crept off to bed for a few hours saying he had to do some research or something, he told me not to tell anyone, ....so of course I told everyone.

The burnout competition went off while I was (yet again) on the runway sorting out timing lights. All I could see was what looked like a nuclear mushroom cloud appearing every few minutes from the end of the runway. Luckily somebody (Rick I think) had a video camera in there and I have since seen the entire thing. (I will do a special burnout comp video later I reckon as it was so good). The tyre boys were flat out changing good tyres for old ones for people to blow, and the crowd were loving it. The final trophy went to Karl M. from Gladstone on his Busa.

The guys at the club house laid on a big roast for us that night and all the troopers that stayed on tucked into that. By now I was hanging. A massive 4 days had taken it's toll on me and trying to walk was a challenge, let alone giving a speech or trying to organise the customary AFR awards, so for the first time in AFR history we had no awards! (I will of course rectify this in the coming weeks).

By 9am everything was quiet and the 2008 AFR had come to an end. The locals loved it, the campsite owners apparently loved it, and all the guys that came along loved it. It seemed to be a winner all round, so apart from knowing I had to do the clean up in the morning I went to bed knackered but in the knowledge it had been worth all the hard work that Stu and myself had put into organising it. ...and you know what, I