The Final Chapter: A Motorbike's Last Will & Testament

It’s a tough day on the homestead. I’ve officially hung up my helmet, and the old iron horse has moved on to a new stable.

But before he left, he had some things he wanted to get off his… um… manifold. After eight years of sitting silent and a lifetime of winding roads, I think it’s only fair we hear him out.

This is the Last Will and Testament of the "Hillbilly Triumph", my Triumph Tiger Sport.

---

The Last Will and Testament of The Hillbilly Triumph

---

I, the Hillbilly Triumph (or simply "ATGR"), being of sound mind, somewhat rusty fenders, and leaking only slightly less oil than usual, do hereby declare this document to be my last will and testament.

As I prepare to head off to my next adventure (presumably with someone whose knees are 30 years younger than my current owner's), I wish to make the following bequests.

Article 1: The Rider

To my long-time rider, my pilot, the self-proclaimed "Hillbilly Blogger": I leave you The Memories.

• The Bugs: All of them. In your teeth. The ones we shared on roads all over New Zealand. They belong to you now.

• The Near-Misses: I leave you the exclusive copyright to those stories, which I expect will become "a whole lot more dramatic" by the time you tell them in 2033.

• The Vibration: I leave you the residual tingling in your fingers, a constant reminder of our time together. Use it when you're trying to figure out where you put your damn glasses.

Article 2: The Gear

To the back of the garage:

• The Leather Jacket: I leave this to eventually become a very stylish dust cover for a lawnmower.

• The Helmet: This will serve as an excellent, although slightly aggressive, birdhouse for the sparrows on the front porch.

Article 3: Special Requests

I have a few final wishes to my new owner:

• No "City Folk" Polish: Do not wash off all the dirt. That’s hillbilly patina. It took me a long time to earn it.

• Open Roads: Please do not keep me in the garage like some kind of pet hamster. Let me stretch my gears. I have a pension to keep up. Wait, that’s not right. Just... ride.

• No Leather One piece suits: If I see you riding in one piece leather suits, I will find a way to leak oil directly on your expensive shoes. You have been warned.

Article 4: The Final Goodbye

In conclusion, I go to a place where the roads are forever winding, the traffic is nonexistent, and the price of petrol is $0.99 a litre (How I wish).

Thank you, old friend, for the ride of a lifetime. Keep blogging. Just maybe... do it a little faster than every eight years.

Signed and Witnessed,

The Hillbilly Triumph

(And Witnessed by Cooper the dog)

---

A Note from the Hillbilly Pensioner

And with that, the bike is gone. I’m now a officially a man of leisure (naps) and government payments.

Stay tuned for my next post. It won’t be about winding roads or engine roars. It’ll probably be about finding the perfect blend of tea and how to get a discount on prescription meds.

Hillbilly Logic never retires. It just changes its footwear.