More of Andy's mates were manning the barbecue. These guys are not into bikes, but came to assist on the day. Loyal friends. Thanks mates - your work was appreciated. Di found a handy tree trunk and addressed the crew. She made a point of asking everyone to include this event on their calendar - its etched on mine.! I'm sure that goes for most of those present. She also asked if we could make it a bit faster next year. I'm beginning to appreciate what Andy saw in this girl.!

Around October 2000 I received a phone call. “Is that Kilroy?”. We established it was, and this guy went on to introduce himself. Andy Goudswaard was trying to find as many owners of 69-75 Triumph and BSA triples he could to come on a run. He sounded like a decent chap, and I thought it would be great to meet a few other triple owners. Despite Christchurch (NZ) being a city of several hundred thousand, it operates like a big small town, and everyone knows someone who does something – so word was going around.
Also – a number of annual events that used to pull such people together had been canned, so there was no real purpose for triple owners other than respective owners clubs – who were perceived by many to consist of obsessive bearded dwarves with a fetish for correct tyre colours.

I duly attended the run on the last Sunday of October, and met Andy. My initial impression turned out correct, and he proved to be a very nice guy with a spotlessly clean Rocket3 – complete with raygun mufflers – so his taste matched his persona.
What I didn’t know was that he had earlier that year shipped his Rocket to Australia for the International BSA rally, and was inspired to get a group of triple owners together who would like going for ‘faster’ rides.
He got that right.!
I have no pictures of that run – but as an inaugural effort, the turnout was very impressive. Probably 20 odd owners showed up – from the staid to the excessive – and it was amazing to see how many triples were lurking around town.
I had to leave the party early, so I did not get to mingle with many folks, but I let Andy know that I was definitely interested in any other events he might organise.
We maintained sporadic contact, and the following year there was another quite ambitious run of several hundred miles in a day. It was a much smaller turnout this time, as the group began to attract like-minded bikers, and the others dropped out.
This “hard core” continued to show most years, and a few others also came along. That’s how it was with Andy’s “Triples Runs”.

Just before the 2008 run, Andy was diagnosed with a brain tumour, and phoned up to warn me it might effect the run. As is my way, I mercilessly took the piss, and told him that as a taxpayer, I was a bit annoyed that I would now be paying for him to have a free haircut, seeing they wanted to cut bits out of his head. I also suggested that his helmet might be a bit loose in future.
He cheered up no end, and agreed to keep me posted. A week later he called to say it looked pretty grim, but he was going ahead with the run, even if he had to ride behind us in a car. He did. It was a good run, and a good bonding between mates in the face of trouble.
In 2009, Andy put together another brilliant run, and even laid on a barbecue for the boys – where he and Di cooked up a storm with the aid of some close friends.

Come 2010, the International BSA rally came to town, and I had the pleasure of riding Andy’s pride and joy with him on the back. We attended most days, except where his treatment got in the way, and he hardly stopped beaming for the entire week.
Some months later, he’d had enough, and let the curtain drop – in typical style – with courage and humour – always the Gentleman.
So.
Cue October 2010. The 10th Triples Run. Di was determined to hold the run, as were we all. We dredged up all the contacts we could from Andy’s stuff, and word went around. A number of non-triples were also invited, especially those from the local BSA club to which he belonged. The stage was set.

Some very good friends of ours travelled down from Blenheim, 200 miles away, so come Saturday night, we had a nice flock of triples in the workshop. I had done a bit of prep on Andy’s bike, and a friend of Andy’s would be riding it with Di on the back, so I could ride my own and carry Red.
7 roadworthy triples and a party mood..

Despite a late night, we were up early and attending to the last minute details - like changing the colour of a Rocket with different tank and side panels. Keen to get the bikes outside where we could at least take a decent photo or 9, they were soon lined up under a rather cool sky..

All the bikes were started to make sure they had the correct number of cylinders present, so by the time the members of the crew who were not already on the premises turned up, things were pretty much ready to go.

The ride to the rendezvous point is one of my favourite bits. Everyone is fully psyched up and its only just beginning. With a decent sized group today, we use both lanes and create a space which no cars seem to want to share. Thats gotta be a good thing.

We reach the carpark designated as our meeting place, and cruise in to fill the ranks. Looks like we brought a fair bit of the run with us..

Really nice to find that some folks have turned up just to say hello and see who is about. Its about seeing and being seen - not for appearance sake - just to reinforce the group with numbers. Kindred spirits and all that. Considering the nature of this run and the history, the human factor was at the top of the list.

I must make a special mention. We have girls today. I can't remember another triples run with girls on their own bikes - and I am very impressed. This is so much into the spirit of things, and Andy was impressed too - I just know it. Not sure why it makes such a difference when girls are being one of the boys - but it makes perfect sense on a ride like this. Well done you 'guys'.! Respect.

Just after my coffee arrived, it was time to go. Damn. I needed that coffee. With a larger group, its much harder to have everyone move off together, so we were kinda strung out as we headed through the suburbs looking for somewhere to open it up a bit. There was a cold sort of wind blowing, which had us huddling in the carpark, and it takes a few miles to cool down and get used to it. By the time I got used to it, my coffee was looking for a way out.

More and more I realise that life responds to the thoughts we are holding - so it should have come as no surprise that we came across a bike that had stopped - or was in the process of stopping, so we could too. Unfortunately - that bike stopped on an island at the bottom of an offramp on the motorway, while we ended up at the top. This presented me with the perfect opportunity to sprint down the bank to the trees and adjust the ballast tank. Returned to the bike as Allan pulled up and described the state of things. Seemed the other bike would not run, and appeared to have some sort of ignition problem. I decided to go and stick my oar in, so we proceeded to ride down the offramp the wrong way. This had the expected effect on the motorists whose view of the universe does not seem to allow such things - but we prevailed, and ended up on the same island. The problem turned out to be a blown fuse, and the bike had a spare - so we were on the road again quite soon. Most of the pack had by now vanished into the vast reaches of space, so we formed our own little secondary group, and took the pre-emptive step of stopping at Rangiora and buying a few more fuses just in case. We still have them.

From Rangiora, the route had us well out in the country where most folk on bikes tend to stretch the boundaries a bit. For some reason, we weren't, although I did a bit of disorderly overtaking, then slowing again so the group had to go past me and I got to sample the lovely exhaust notes. Its a very pretty road, and as we were sticking together rather than going for it, I got a bit of sightseeing in. Suddenly the entrance to the Ashley Gorge park hove into view, and we braked and peeled off into the gates. The stage was already set by now, with the bikes parked up under the conveniently placed trees and a barbecue underway. Luxury.