The Motorbike Frog

The Motorbike Frog in the backyard pond of Damian and Kate

Last night I encountered the sight and sound of the Motorbike Frog which apparently is the “most commonly encountered frog” in the South-West of Western Australia.

I was in a backyard at Fremantle along with two colleagues and their respective partners, and we were have a really, really lovely time eating a wonderful meal, drinking some great wine, and chatting about lots and lots of things, though hardly ever work

I learned a lot about frogs and backyard pools over the course of a couple of hours. How the pool needs to be deep enough to create its own eco-system, for example. And I learned the motor-bike frogs will, and I quote, “root anything”. Apparently there’s a photograph on the internet or somewhere of a motorbike frog having sex with a cane toad. I haven’t bothered to google it. I’m sure it’s out there, but don’t feel a great need to spend the rest of 2011 looking for it.

All the way along, the frogs were joining in the conversation. I recorded some of their sounds for your listening pleasure, though highly edited, as I had to try and separate our conversation from the sound of the frogs.

Getting a photograph wasn’t so easy, also. Whenever I would get close enough, they would jump away. Finally, I got a half-decent shot, though which needed to be lightened and photo-shopped to within an inch of its life.

But yeah, it was a really, really lovely night which I enjoyed much.

The trip to Fremantle wasn’t easy. I had to remember, first of all, how to actually buy a train ticket in Perth. The proceedings were further delayed as I wandered around trying to work out which train line to take. Even though it’s admittedly fairly simple with just six options, I still had to draw back on my memory banks to remember what to do. And then by the time I’d figured it out, my train was happily in transit. Buggar. So I caught the next train, and guess what?

There was also s signal error just two stops from Fremantle which kept us all on the train for a further ten minutes. At least. I phoned my colleague who suggested I get off the train and that he would come to pick me up at North Fremantle instead. All good, except the gates the cross the tracks were locked. There were a group of us standing there wanting to do the same thing, including an older woman who said, “A lot of young people just jump the fence and then open the gate from the other side”. Immediately, a young guy did exactly that and we were “free”. I’m not sure how long the train delays went on for.

The train trip home was much easier. As I walked back from the station to my apartment, I reflected in what was an interesting and really lovely night out in Freo.