The day started unpropitiously for me when I pinged a young ?gentleman? stealing my helmet from outside the Golden Arches at Papakura.  His mates reckoned I should go easy on him because he was drunk – at 1/4 past 9 in the morning – and their reaction to my query as to why they weren't looking after their mate if that was the case was to give me the finger.  Right there, Mr Harawira, is where racial stereotyping tends to come from.Anyhoo, having overcome that hurdle, and Malcolm having turned up and given a ride briefing, fourteen bikes set out for Pirongia.The weather was kind, and we made Pirongia dry.  Malcolm had a slight navigational oops where he apparently went looking for the "alternative" Pirongia Clydesdales: this led to a bit of hand-waving and explaining and self-justification, but we know the facts.While the great horses were the stars of the show, they weren't the only critters in the menagerie - some preferred their equines slightly smaller sized:Mrs Red Baron had gentle words with Mr Red Baron, which wound up with her grabbing all their tucker, and Alex having to negotiate for crumbs.Our guest Harley-Boy, Peter, having smooched the horses (Pete's a horseman, used them for years as a shepherd, plays polo-crosse, and in fact used to work Clydesdales) fell in love with the carrot cake.  His favourite ice cream flavour is strawberry, too, big Harley poof!The old saying is that nobody wants to talk about the elephant in the sitting room: how 'bout the donkey in the dining room?  It seemed to like Shah.Some of the riders left us early from Pirongia: GunnyRob (GS) and his brother Warren (on a Buell) left us to enjoy more kilometres on rare day on the bikes.  Campbell left to head home, and good thing, too, it's wannabe boy racers that give us a bad name.  I'm sure I'm not the only one jealous of his new scooter, the paint job alone is gorgeous.Just before we left mine host was washing a couple of the gees: you can see he's checking when one has its birthday, 'cos he's looking up its date...........(groan)Malcolm took the scenic route home, via Te Pahu, out towards Raglan (Richard Gard'ner went right to go straight home when we hit the Raglan road) then via Waingaro and 22, intending to go via the Tuakau Bridge to 40 Flavours at Pokeno.  I decided I needed my ice cream earlier, so from Glen Murray on I cast aside seemliness and good order, and attempted to get to the front from the back to hijack Malcolm's run and take us down Mercer Ferry Road to get to 40 Flavours quicker.  Jason followed on his Busa - excellent thought I, knowing I could rely on Jason to turn the pack into Mercer Ferry for me, and the smallest and least powerful vehicle on the run, the Librarian's AN250 BabyBurger wove through the pack with the biggest and most powerful, the GSXR1300 struggling to keep up ;D ;DWe all enjoyed our ice creams, and Malcolm forgave me for my hijack (but soon after I post this he will no doubt be one of several that serve me up to the Librarian for caning her scoot).  Most unfortunately, just before we departed Pokeno some stupid b###h that didn't look behind her backed into Shah's F800 and skittled it off the stand.  Fortunately it appears not to have damaged the bike, but it didn't help her case when she tried to have the brass arse to say it was Shah's fault. Malcolm made the point that he had done his twelve-months' worth for the club, and indeed he had.  If a couple of dozen people came up with a favourite run like that each year, it would make my job SOOOOOO easy.  Thank you much, Malcolm.