wednesday night in summer, it's the local bike night at m.f.n. i like m.f.n, it's mid week, halfway between last weekend's excess's and this weekend that is hoving into view, a lovely night in derbyshire, i try and start dangerous's triumph, the battery's flat, [again], i drag it out of the shed and dig out the sporty, start it up and let it warm up while i put my helmet on, it's warm, i'm wearing 501's, a battered pair of old converse, black vest and my harley racing jacket, the ride to m.f.n is not the best, cutting between the two cities of derby and nottingham, the overspill of urbanity reaching out into the green-belt, the smell of new mown hay is heavy in the air, my throttle hand twitching to give it the berry's but this road is riddled with speed camera's, i pull down the lane to m.f.n and even from this distance and at this early hour, [1900hrs], you can see the glimmer off the bikes in the three carparks, they have had to install temporary chicanes on the approach roads to slow down the bikes, i park up, have a chat with the omni-present ammo and get a coke off lynda in the outside catering van, proper, old fashioned, full-sugar bottled fizz, served ice cold in a real glass bottle, ace, i wander around the carparks, it's an everchanging smorgasbord of motorcycles, a heady mix of drop dead gorgeous machines, fried onions, two-stroke and hot engines, from the wes cooley gs1000 ama superbike replica, [complete with the famous #34], to the immaculate resto fizzy, from the bloke on the flat tank new hudson, [complete with bungeed stand, 'fucking spring broke youth, thought i was going well, sparks flying, thought it was the footpegs down and it were the bastard stand dragging on 't floor'] to the lush rg, from the streetfighter glam suzuki to the stealth streetracer, turbo-charged, long swinging-arm drag racer-on-the-road, from the sv suzuki racer, totally illegal, leaning against the pub wall to the bsa goldstar, the shadow's are lengthening and, just as the summer seem's to have started it seem's to be coming to a close, i skin out as the crowd's start to become too oppressive, the air is cooling quickly, i head back into derby, taking the long way home, i rarely ride a bike in the city nowadays, but, tonight is one of those night's, the traffic is light and there's loads of fun to be had blowing away the rep's in their bmw's and audi's as they make their way home from the office, toadying up to the gaffer for their promotion prospects or thinking up excuses to the missus after spending an illicit afternoon in the arm's of someone elses wife, i pull up at another set of light's and a geezer on a big-twin pull's alongside, we drag race away from the lights leaving the car's behind, i blow him into the ground and we pull up at the next set of lights, he's looking at me in disbelief, you can see it in his face, [even though i can't see his eyes behind his h.d.shades, [t.m.], 'fuck, i got hammered by a sporty' he continues to stare at me until i inform him his left turn signal has gone to green, he promptly stalls it, wanker, happy day's.........
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