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

Monday, 16 June 2014

i can't find the time for times






















this weekend has been one of those times when the planets align and everything is good, friday night and me and mrs b head out on the bonneville on a beautiful summers evening for a pint, except everyone and his dog has decided to do the same thing, pub after pub, all packed with people sitting outside and just enjoying the rare english summertime when you can actually do that, no worries, we just enjoy the ride, great to spend time together, laughing and loving, mrs b's hands around my waist, snuggling in, watching the buzzards soaring on the thermals above carsington reservoir, precious time together, we didn't get our pint but we got a great ride out on the 'false' triumph instead. saturday and me and dangerous head out on the two bonnevilles with no destination in mind, just getting out there and riding, the roads are quiet and we get some good runs at out favourite derbyshire roads for a change, i'm liking the big 'inckley triumph the more i ride it, got to get the gearing sorted as i'm trying to find a non-existant sixth gear all the time, i've already ordered a nineteen tooth front sprocket, [two teeth up than the standard seventeen sprocket] to drop the revs a tad in top gear. the bonneville is best ridden like a dirtbike, no hanging off or knee out malarkey, just push the bike into the corner using the wide flatracker bars and it goes exactly where you want it to, the clutch is slipping badly when i give it a fistfull of throttle, it's fine when riding at more 'sensible' speeds, so, looks like a new clutch is next on the shopping list, dangerous reckons it's with the extra hp that the smoothbores and pipe combination has freed up and while the bike is certainly quicker i can't see that we have released so much power that it renders the standard unit useless? after an afternoon of general hooning about, passing each other time and time again, general dicking about and two tea breaks we finally end up in matlock bath for one of our rare excursions to the mecca of derbyshire motorcycling, seriously, i know people who think that the world ends at matlock bath and never venture further than walking the promenade, bag of chips in hand and dodging the throngs and police speed checks / helicopter enforcement / general harrasment of anyone on two wheels, thats why i usually avoid the place like a dose of the clap, but, on a dull, cool late afternoon we decide to make one last tea stop. my phone rings, its barse, 'where are you? i'm stood looking at your bikes, get us a brew in' good to catch up, we spend an hour shooting the shit before we bail out for a cheeky beer in the shed. sunday see's me and dangerous again bonny mounted and waiting at the crewe and harpur to rendevous with big stevie marsh, debbie and gaz, we aren't waiting long before steve comes into view on his new cvo bagger, a little present to himself after his recent near death heart experience, i'm not sure which is louder, his new vance and hines exhaust, steve laughing and shouting out an expletive ridden greeting, or the on-board cd player blasting out guns and roses! gaz is tucked in behind on his forty-eight sporty and we are on our way over to mallory park for the british historic racing meeting at mallory park, the forty five miles are soon despatched and we are soon stood by the fence, tea in hand and watching the manx nortons roaring past a few feet away, after a great afternoons racing we set off in light drizzle, the clouds gradually get lower and the light drizzle soon turns into sharp rainfall, i look back at dangerous to be met with a shrug of the shoulders and a shit-eating grin, resigned to getting wet, [we didn't pack any rain gear as the forecast didn't mention it], we just enjoy the ride, a quick fuel stop and we decide as we are damp anyway we might as well take a detour and call in on sweary mick to check his progress on his aermacchi project, out of staffordshire and back onto home turf and the weather picks up, another fifty or sixty miles passes as we aimlessly just ride the rapidly drying roads and wouldn't you know it, as we sit out supping a well earned peroni the sun finally makes an appearance........

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