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

Friday, 30 September 2011

oi ben, you really ought to shut-the-fuck-up until you know what you are talking about, i've been riding bikes since you were still a glint in your old man's eye, i was riding bikes before they became the 'next big thing', i've been riding, [and building] bikes when motorcycles were dangerous, not a fucking fashion accessory like an i-pad, the latest training shoes, [converse all-stars for me thanks], sushi bar's and pin-striping, i was riding bikes everyday, all-year round as a necessity to get to work, fetch the shopping and my only means of transport, not 'profiling' at matlock bath or the harley dealer's, i've been riding bikes when you risked getting your head stoved in and your bike wrecked because you rode one, i've been riding bikes since you got refused being served at pub's because 'we don't serve biker's', i've been riding bikes when bikes were a political statement, putting it to the man, fighting the power, protesting against law's that would have put us off the road forever, don't disrespect the old school, embrace it and who know's you might learn something, until you've rebuilt a shovelhead primary like barse and me in a telford pub carpark using handtools and cardboard from mcdonald's don't talk to me about riding bikes you fucking lightweight, oh yeah, your bike is made of sugar because you only ride it in the dry, sucker......

Thursday, 29 September 2011

 andy saunders, #1, mz racing champion, 2011, respect due.






british historic racing, cadwell park, september 25th, the devil is in.....

Wednesday, 28 September 2011




wednesday night, we are already past the autumn equinox, the night's are longer than the day's, we are having a last blast of summer, temperatures well above the season norm, i really like this time of year, the mellow fruitfullness, blah, blah, blah and yet, i really don't like the shorter day's and the evening's darkening so soon, i get the dog-walking out of the way and jack sort's out the domestic chores, i'm away for 1745hrs, the shadow's are already lengthening but it's still a lovely night, no sign of the autumn chill we associate with at this time of year, the sort of cold and damp that slowly creep's up on you, fingers starting to numb, creeping back into the warmth of your jacket, checking the zipper to make sure it's all the way up, the roads are light on traffic at this time of day/night, everyone has made it home from the daily commute, the quarry- lorries driver's have run out of hour's on their tacho's and had to park up for the night, the 'safety partnership' operatives have knocked off for the day and the mummy's on the school run are preparing tea for little apple and moses, the discovery's and prius's are safely parked on the printed concrete and block paved driveway's, time to ride then, senses working overtime, [good name for a song that], hit the via-gellia, empty, signs warn me of road work's and road closures, i pass the third set of sign's and the penny drops', 'between the hours of 0930hours and 1800 hours', bloody hell, there's nothing on the road, it's mine, damp patches, debris spilled from the quarry-lorries, little, pea sized stones, like ball bearing's, spread across the road, damp patches under the trees, wet leaves and that white, dusty stuff that i know is limestone all over the road, suddenly, i'm guy martin at the tt, i'm on a thirty year old bmw, i'm bought back to reality as i round a bend and have to apply the brembo's big time to avoid kissing an unlit trailer being towed by a tractor, knock it off and slow it down, i pull up to watch the sun setting, i'm joined by a herd of young cow's who crowd over to check me out over the gate, non-fiction.......

Monday, 26 September 2011











sunday see's dangerous and me heading off early door's to the final round of the british historic racing club meeting at cadwell park in lincolnshire, it's raining heavily as we set off but by the time we get to newark the sky is starting to clear and the sun breaks through, it's around ninety miles to cadwell from belper and we resist the urge to pull over for a brew and pull into the 'park around eleven-in-the-am, it's really busy, busier than i thought for a classic bike meeting, we get a tea and wander down to old hall bends to watch some action, all the races are four-lapper's and it's seriously fast racing, sidecar's, morgan's, scooter's, ridgid framed vintage bikes, ducati singles, i bump in to ron maul the bmw racer, he's won the over 50 class and over 500cc championship, all on a deceptively fast home-brewed r750 based special, great day out and to top it off i picked up a fairing for the project off ken inwood, ken's a legend, i can't remember a time when he hasn't been in the paddock at race meeting's all around the country, changing tyres, selling two-stroke oil and all the other sundries that a club racer need's in a weekend, got an avon half fairing, screen and front 'guard, that's it then, game on.........

Friday, 23 September 2011









friday, day off, well, i say day off, up at 0500hrs, tea, drop jack off at work, an hour and a half goes, unpaid, just sorting shit out, i'm home at 0730hrs, jess is off to lincoln to see her boyfriend this weekend, mrs b, the dog's and me head out to carsington water, park up at sheepwash and take the 'strenous', eight mile walk, it's one of those beautiful autumn day's, sunny and calm, there is a light that never goes out......

Thursday, 22 September 2011

been looking at loads of boxer's on the 'tinterweb, theres some great bikes out there, really, really nice bikes, well built and with loads of care and attention to detail and then and then, you come across something like this, fucking'ell, this bike shouldn't work for so many reasons, looks like a fuel tank from the early eighties honda rs250 single commuter bike, standard mag wheel's, manx type seat and standard, ugly exhaust hangers, then you notice the massive discs, deep sump, dell-orto pumpers, braced and welded frame and the krauser four-valve head's, love it, where do i sign mr d'eville?

Tuesday, 20 September 2011

big debate on the classic racing forum at the moment regarding the fitting of an oil catch tray under the bike, on one hand, i can see the benefits, safer for the rider's as it's going to prevent oil getting on the track and all over the rear tyre and the obvious potentially lethal consequences, less downtime between races as the marshall's clear it up and less off-putting as you try and avoid the cement dust all over the racing lines, on the other hand, if the bike is clean and tidy when it goes through scrutineering, it has no obvious oil leaks, [ok, i know they all 'drip' but not an exxon valdez stylee gush], i think the 'risk' is worth it to see the machines in their natural, [i won't say original, what's original? a lot of the manx's and g50's are replicas anyway and racer's have changed their machines to get the most performance from them as long as we have been racing motorcycles], i reckon the 'oil containment device' fitted to the manx looks pant's myself, [especially with the modern decal's], i really don't want anyone to get hurt or their bike's wrecked but............

Sunday, 18 September 2011





 sunday, stu turn's up on the sv650, dangerous is fashionably late to pick up the beemer i'm on the sporty, we make the short journey to mfn for 'the last chance' custom show, it's already spotting with rain as we arrive, we soon catch up with barse and gordy, quick look around the show, bump into marshy, deb's and 'the world's most handsome man', ben jones, we stand in awe looking at ben's racefit fabbed titanium pipes for ages, ok, about two second's before we drift off to look at my bmw, proper bike that, guy martin and fred dibnah would love it, stu get's a brew in, we decide to head to darley moor to check out the racing, it start's to rain, heavily, we get to belper and ben, steve, debbie and one of steve's mates turn left back toward's derby, i guess their bikes must be made of sugar, we carry on toward's ashbourne, barse and me trading places, i keep overtaking him and letting him catch me up, loving the bark from the shovel's pipes, water rooster-tailing off his back tyre, we are grinning at each other as we have done thousand's of time's in the past, stop at the light's in ashbourne and i look over at barse, his shovel and my sporty are steaming as the water evaporates on the hot engines, we park up, grab a brew and head to the race paddock, it's a dissapointing turn out of classic bikes, i count twenty-four, even the modern stuff is poorly represented, a sign of the times perhaps?, barse and gordy take the more direct route home down the a52, we lose stu soon after, me and dangerous head out to brassington and the via-gellia, we don't get a good run, despite the light rain, the roads are busy, fuel stop at wirksworth and fifteen minutes later we are sitting in the shed quaffing a cold cobra, been a good day today, good to catch up with some old friends, a proper autumn day, sunshine and showers, not too hot, not too cold, 'the older i get, the faster i was...'

Friday, 16 September 2011


ey up, i'm back, my computer has been hacked in a right royal stylee, had to re-boot it using packard bell tech service, so, i've lost all my photo's, my favourite websites, and my most precious, my i-tunes library, hundred's of hours lost, converting vinyl to mp3 format, cataloguing my vast music collection that run's from the late 1930's to present day, i'm totally anal regarding my music collection, i have to log all the tracks, [including brackets, remixes, dates, artwork etc, etc, ], all gone into the ether, yeah, i can do it all again, i've got all the records, tapes, cd's as backup, but, well you know how convenient it is to have it on your computer, as soon as i plug my i-pod in it's going to wipe it and i'm going to have to start again from scratch, i try to live my life so i don't effect anyone else, i hate rudeness, lack of respect and intolerance, i'm not religious but i suppose i try and follow the buddhist way of life, but hey, i'm only human, [i still hate burglars, animal abuser's, forest fan's and harley owner's, bullies, coconut in chocolate, honda race replicas, tyre warmers, rim tape, matlock bath and safety partnership camera van's, biscuit's that drop in your tea when you dunk them, cold weather, dark night's, the cob van running out of thick, crusty bread and having to settle for a 'roll', cheap brown sauce, [note to american reader's, just leave our h.p. sauce alone, we like it as it is and who are you to tell us about salt content?], getting up for a shift on a monday morning, x-factor, paying tax on second-hand part's and piss-weak tea] but, what i really hate is some twenty something computer hacker sitting in his bedroom tossing-off as he wreak's havoc, laughing like beavis and butt-head as his victim's suffer 'the blue-screen of death', i really wish that when you hack a computer and cause so much shit a phantasm type 'silver-ball' would be generated and burst through your screen, hook into your brain and drill out all the mashing's, angus scrimm rules, [oh yeah, you really aren't that clever, couple of e-mither's and i've got your ip address bastard.....]

Sunday, 11 September 2011






derbyshire, where men are men and sheep are scared, hundred miles on the beemer saturday, today i get the 'domestic's' out of the way, watch some british superbike racing on sky, sit in the garden with the dog's drinking tea, late afternoon and the boxer is calling me, it's an itch that has to be scratched, riding kit on, the little 650 gently rocking from side to side on the stand as i shut the garage door, don't know where i'm going, just ride, the sky is grey, deep cloud many thousand's of feet thick and every now and then a few drop's of rain splatter on my yellow, low level light, industrial safety glasses that i wear when using my open face 'cromwell' lid, i love this bike, i love the anonymity that it afford's, if i go anywhere on the sporty i get self-concious, people gawk at it and ask questions, on the bmw it's different, sport's bike riders ignore you, harley riders ignore you, it's great, i guess it must be the 'space 1999' styling of this early 80's machine, the square headlight and the kraft cheese triangle fairing as it comes toward's you?, this bike suit's me down to the ground, i ride it and in karate terms i reach 'muga', muga is a state of intuitive awarness, universal consciousness, i come from another planet, baby...................

Friday, 9 September 2011

mz racer's, probably the nicest bloke's on the planet, probably the nastiest, hardest , bastard's in the world on the track, i can speak from experience, i've had the pleasure of being lapped by all three of these lad's, respect due, #67, giles spencer, #1, andy saunders and #95, mr, [mister], chris rogers.....
had e-mither off andy smith, [the geezer who bought the mz racer], to cut a long story short, another racer had taken my '51' number after i sold my bike, he's now selling his bike so the 'legendary' #51 is up for grab's, '51 forever!, i have got the number 51 back for the mz!, don't know why but have got quiet attached to the bike being #51, why is your number 51?, andy'..........

Thursday, 8 September 2011

'icarus', blown triumph dragracer, santa pod, 1971.