another perfectly good motorcycle ruined.......

Sunday, 4 October 2009

girls with guns.


barse is selling his boxer, we are in 'talks' at the moment, boxer lust.

mr. evel, he rides a sportster, tell him it's a girl's bike fatboy.

the older i get, the more tolerant i become, everyone is entitled to ride an ugly, bog- stock bike if they want but i really don't have anything in common with you, sport-bike owner or harley rider, get your hand's dirty, get the hacksaw out and make it your own or.................................................

'phoned barse 2.30pm friday afternoon, 'ey up mate, i'm walking the dogs up brackley gate, are you still at work?', 'yeah mate for about another ten minutes, what's up?' fancy a ride out about 4.30?', 'yep, i'll be there', we fuel at richards and take the tansley option, pick up a japper and leave him floundering, don't worry, he passes us in the 30 limit, wanker!, bloody hell, it's cold!, onto the a6 and as we approach bakewell it start's to rain, park up and head to the cafe, shit, it closes at 4.30pm today, try thorntons coffee shop- yeah, that's shut too, back down the a6, stopped raining now, roads are wet, autumn leaves, the smell of the freshly cut hedgerow, turn right and head up towards robins hood stride, turn left onto the via-gellia and a quick squirt through the trees, taking care on the damp road, look in my mirror and barse points left, we head into a deserted matock and park outside charlies, tea and toasted teacakes, both of us sapping the heat out of the warm cups to get the circulation back into our white fingers, the guy at the cafe lights the lamps under the awning on the pavement side, matlocks deserted, no weekend warriors here today, barse turns left, i slap his shoulder and watch him rip the sporty off into the gloom, i smile to myself, start my bike and turn right.