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

Sunday, 7 April 2013

northern soul

'dust my broom' ike and tina turner, yeah, that tina turner that your mum like's, here's a stomper from back in the day, solid gold soul, listen to that vocal, priceless........

aermacchi

yep, the first real day of spring, only one thing to do really, let's drag the 'macchi out onto the yard and tune the carb, the little beauty start's first press of the starter and i sit steadily revving the bike to two-and-a-half thousand rev's to warm the bike up, sweary turn's up on his little vello' he's grinning like a dog with two dick's as he hear's the aermacchi, the smell of the silkolene forty-weight oil is intoxicating, dangerous is buzzing around making tweaks to the air-screw and tickover, tightening hose clips and looking for oil-leak's, mr's b makes an appearence ten minutes in and gives us a 'scottish head-butt look' i kill the motor and make a brew, sitting in the warm sunshine, it must be ten degree's today and chalky turn's up, another brew and we drop the bike back onto the roller, a sniff of throttle and it start's again, a few more minor adjustments and as the engine get's warm i increase the rev's, we stand there like the four amigo's, [ok, i know there were only three but you get the picture] we are revelling in the sound and smell of a racebike , unfotunately the neighbour's don't get it and give me a few disapproving look's, i don't give a fuck but, when the little scottish hen makes an appearance and gives me the 'shut it bastard or i'm gonna cut 'ya  wee ball's off with ma' dirk' look, i'm not stupid, i know that's it time to return derbyshire to the rural ideal, [and i still value my little bollock's], the little 'macchi is ticking as it cool's, we take another brew and a mr's sweary home-made bun and i take some photo's of sweary's old tt leather's, wax cotton jacket and enamel badges, a whole history here, you can't buy this.....

derbyshire


stop, look, listen, whisper it, i reckon spring might just have arrived in my corner of rural derbyshire, a light air frost greeted us this morning and, as the sun rose higher into the sky, for the first time this year, a touch of real warmth, the bitter easterly wind has finally dropped, after a massive mr's b veggie breakfast and numerous cup's of tea it was short's, boot's a base layer and a crag-hopper fleece, the first time in month's i hadn't had a berghaus or north face jacket on, as i put the boy's leads on i even decided to leave my thermal gloves behind, the dog's sensed that spring is finally coming, ducking and diving, sniffing every rabbit hole in the hedgerow's, still bereft of green shoes, but, today i saw my first daffodil's in flower, even the air is different, just that smell of soil and earth and musk, gus suddenly loses interest, i know something is wrong straight away, when you spend as much time with these dog's as i do you just know, he carry's on for a mile or two, but he's just soldiering on, even as we pass the farm where his sworn enemies 'the psycho geese' live he's not straining at the leash trying to get at the two, spitting, clucking, puffed up, all-beak and no manner's pieces of shit that can't even fly properly, he's running on three, front, nearside leg held up in the air, i stop to have a look, as soon as i touch his paw his lip is up and he's showing me his big white nasher's, growling low to warn me that if i overstep the mark i'm going to get nailed big time, i have to look close to see it, but there it is, a big blackthorn in his pad, i reckon it must be 5mm in diameter, it's got to come out, no question, i'm going to get bitten but i can't see my boy struggling like this, i grab the thorn and pull it out, bang, claret, [me, not him] he nails me, the blackthorn is around 20mm long, bloody hell, that must have hurt, a bit like my finger's really, it's not so much the cut, more the crushing action of a dog-bite that causes the pain, as soon as the thorn is out he's ok, he know's he's bit me but he's wagging his tail and licking me to let me know, well, you know..........