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

Saturday, 26 July 2014

saturday night in out patients











just been riding, here's some photo's from the founders day rally at stanford hall in leicstershire, instant karma, the heavens opened and i got piss wet through as i passed the triumph factory in hinckley, ten minutes later, hot sunshine, some fantastic bikes here, the theme this year was the old 'flat-tankers' and it was great to see so many vintage bikes, not just trailered or vanned in, but actually ridden, walking around the avenue revealed many hidden gem's just leaning against the tree's, out on the duc monday night, tuesday on the duc again, wednesday, over to mfn, caught up with ammo, bench-donkee's andy, [thanks for the stickers mate], grant and his good lady, chalky sipping a pint of shandy and the ever present harold fresh from his counterfeiting operation with the wristbands to gain access to 'a really big and important classic bike event' fucking great! a septuagenarian displaying punk rock ideology and spitting in the face of a big, corporate organisation, an army of pensioners storming the gates with their dodgy band's, produced on a home computer and their winter heating allowance safe for another year! i can't get my head around the amount of people so packed, i couldn't get my bike out of the carpark when i decided to skin out, anyhoo, the stunt plane was brilliant, he came in fast and low, people were actually ducking as he skimmed the bikes, straight up, up to stall point and just flopping back to earth through the clear, blue ether, oh my, what would i give for a ride in one of those bi-planes, thursday and up to the norton factory at donington hall, the new domi racer and the tt bikes on display, a totally different vibe to wednesday, just super chilled, a cup of tea and a chat with the main honcho responsible for the norton domi-racer project, he explained just how hard it was to prepare each machine for the dreaded S.V.A test, the back light has to be at the furthest point at the rear of the bike, suspended on a horrible 'wheelie-bar' type outrigger, the indicators have a fixed centre and have to be 'e' marked and be of a certain size, then of course is the dreaded emissions test, the bikes are fitted with horrible silencers and cat's as standard, luckily, the bikes come with an optional race kit which includes the beautiful pipes, a re-map and a numberplate relocation bracket, [see the previous post for a photo of how the bike should look] i could spend a whole night just drinking in the details on these machines, bloody lovely, unfortunately dozy-bollock's forgot his camera and the phone pic's aren't wortha wank, so you'll just have to get your arse up there in a fortnight, or, wait until i go back again! the norton boy's were really interested in the view of 'normal' motorcyclists on their bikes and were taking notes and photographing bikes that caught their attention, me being me i asked him a lot of 'awkward' questions, one of the things that bugs me is how high the engine sit's in the frame, 'why can't you just cut the lower frame rails away and use the engine as a stressed member, you can lower the centre of gravity then?' the geezer then goes into an advanced mathematic's answer regarding the stresses that are put through the frame if you use it as a stressed member and i'm shot down in flames, [but, i did notice him scribbling notes in his book, norton 1- loveless 1, points shared, score draw.........

Saturday, 19 July 2014

a.w.o.l [alternative way of life]









friday dinnertime at work, still full from the traditional friday morning fry-up, i make the lad's a brew and pull out the big plastic box out from under my bench and dive in to find an old magazine to peruse while i drink my tea outside in the sunshine, now, a little explanation is needed here, my name is timmy and i'm a magazine and book addict, [ i can't get my head around reading off a computer screen or i-pad, yes, i've downloaded the kindle app, but, for me i like the real-deal and let's face it, who takes their i-pad into the toilet to read when their having a dump? just saying] anyway, my magazine collection is divided into three sections, the 'essentials' those collections you will never get rid of, 'classic racer', selected copies of 'performance bikes', 'classic bike' and the '70's and 80's 'bike' [especially the 'team bike endurance features], mid 90's copies of the david snow/ghengis 'iron horse' the tattoo magazines, the first fifty copies of 'dice', the first fifteen copies of 'greasy culture' and the first seven copies of 'sideburn' then there's the hotrod magazines, the football fanzines, copies of the punk  'sniffing glue' and '80s style-bible 'the face'. then we have the mag's that just get piled up in the shed, read, flicked through and piled up ready for  re-cycling or passed on to one of the many waif's and stray's who happen to visit and pick them up and ask, 'can i borrow this?' and they dissapear, never to be seen again. and then, there's those mag's that don't quite make it into the collection, but are too good to hit the recycling pile, these are the mag's that end up under my bench at work, ready for some long forgotten bike or article to be rediscovered and that's how i found this 1994 copy of AWOL, bloody hell! that's twenty years ago, as i'm idly flicking through, i realise what a different place the world was back then, no internet instant gratification, 'professional' bike-builders could be counted on one hand, everyone was just doing what they could in their shed's, no big, shiny, 'biker-lifestyle' emporiums punting out stick-on beards, pendletons, redwings and wallets on chains to the bro's, no nine-grand 'artisan built' bmw's or bubble-wrap plastic trinkets for your hardly-dangerous, a time when people built raked out lambretta chops, vespa street racers, triumph hillclimbers and went on demo run's to protest against anti motorcycling legislation, not just rode around london in their best suit looking dapper, it was a time of kicking against the jam's, of belonging to something that mattered, not just catching your reflection in a shop window and looking cool, building your own bike, dancing 'til dawn, a crossover of cultures, sharing tin's of co-op beer, 'herbal cigarettes' and idea's, fixing bikes and punk rock, dancing to the fire alarm at a prodigy gig,  siphoning petrol from one tank to another,  from punky, alternative matt black scooter 'hardly-rideables' a gang of hard riding cut down scooter riding nutters who attended all the big motorcycle action group rallies and protest runs, to the donkey jacket and ncb booted streetfighter boys on hacked gixxers, the rave culture survivors, dreadlocked drum and bass refugees, all searching the next party, AWOL summed it all up really, 'alternative way of life' not the trend driven fashionista, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous fucking bullshit, photo-opportunity, twitter-driven wankers, as a footnote, the last picture is my bmw boxer twin, yeah, twenty years ago, ex-met-police traffic bike, how ironic is that?, i suppose if i'd cut the arse off my bike and put a 'wrench-monkee's/bratsyle seat on it now instead of two-decades ago then i might just have been famous and swapping spit with david beckham? police tank complete with cutout for the phone? let's make a stainless rack for it, just like an old meriden triumph, watch this space, appearing at a trendy blog near you soon, everything old is new again, to quote a great song by the supernaturals, 'every silver lining has a cloud and each piece of good fortune must be paid for by the pound, i've become so cynical these days, i don't know how it started but it won't go away, see the lines around my eyes, see the sarcasm in my smile, you'd better smile, cause that's all you've got left, your life's a mess, you've been cut adrift, you better smile......'

Sunday, 13 July 2014

sturm und drang



well, the rain hit derbyshire today, or rather last night and into the early hours of sunday morning, plans to go to the 'ton-up' day at jack hill's were abandoned early door's, no point in travelling over a hundred miles to sit in the rain in an empty carpark, plan b see's me heading up to the c.m.c 'custom and modified' sunday show instead, set off in steady drizzle, grey skies and low cloud, almost refreshing after the high humidity of the last few days, meet up with nick, checked out the moto guzzi saga,  talk bikes and book's, ben jones traps as does a decidely second-hand looking barse fresh from a vw meet and complete with badly sprained ankle and three day growth, red eyes, stale beer and generally 'fucked' aura, tea was drunk, we laughed at the prices in the shop, but, fair play to c.m.c. they are giving something back to the motorcycling community by staging free show's like this, yeah, i know, it's all about selling unit's but i like to be kissed  while i'm being fucked if you know what i mean? anyway, apart from my triumph, nick's guzzi and ben's hardly-worth-it, there really wasn't anything else worth looking at, [irony warning] except the beautiful norton domi-racer, here we go, i almost feel a bit 'the emperor's new clothes' the norton is stunning but, truth be told, sounds shit, there you go, i've said it, i reckon it would look even better with a bmw boxer twin engine in that chassis, what? yeah, a bmw boxer twin engine, in fact, it's inspired me to dig out the mashings i stole off barse currently residing in 'shed-two' or, mavis's shed and see what i've got lurking in there, if i can't build a better looking bike than this in my shed, well, i'll expose my nether regions on top of  the chip van in ripley marketplace........

beat up team [a.k.a 'i thought you'd be bigger]







saturday comes, i'm bored now, roll on the new football season, it's all motorcycles at the moment, another hot, clear blue sky day, it's unatural i tell you, riding around in 501's, plain white tee's and cat boot's, where's the rain? over to ben's at roadhouse tattoo, need a catch-up, he's tattoing luke, another mate, i remember luke asking me all about tattoo's, all the usual question's, 'does it hurt?' well, squeeze me, baking powder, you are going to get your epidermis punctured with a row of sharp needles at fifteen hundred revolutions per minute, cause it's going to hurt soft lad! i tried my hardest to put him off i promise, but, in the end it comes down to you are either tattooed or you ain't, to me being tattooed is about claiming your own identity, you only ever hear scaredy-cat's saying 'you'll regret it when your old' well, here's what i think, i am old, i've got a lot more regret's than being tattoooed and if i could start again, i would. anyway,  all-in-all, a great afternoon of talking bikes, bollocks, riding and drinking tea, a perfect summer day..........

Friday, 11 July 2014

more news from nowhere















newark autojumble, clay cross c.m.c british bike day, vmcc club night, m.f.n bike night, a quick blat around the local lanes, run out on the ducati to blow away the cobwebs and a trip to the local triumph dealer to pick up a primary gasket and a drain plug washer, [don't get me started now, i had to order them, three days delivery, what the fuck? dealers don't stock service items? pathetic] yep, busy week, lot's of riding, cool day out at the c.m.c british bike day, new norton sounded fucking brilliant, fair play to the owner getting it on the road, never, ever road legal but who cares? norton rotary bike project, jpn norton, 'inckley bonneville ally tanked cafe racer, 'johnny' rigid trump, the best triton in the world ever, [found out he lives a mile away from me, small world] cheeky as norton bobber and a hundred and one great bikes, rode up to the vmcc club night on my 'false' triumph and got slated, apparently my bike 'sound's like a tractor, too bally loud' well mate, i ride mine, i don't get it out of a van and push it into the carpark so people can admire it, over to newark for the autojumble, caught up with an old mate, chris green, he's sold his softail and is into a '45, we talked punk rock, bikes and i didn't heed his warning that the 'jumble was 'like a fucking car boot sale' it was. absolute junk. like barse said, 'it's everything that you can't sell on e.bay, anyway, over to the triumph dealer to pick up my service items, i'm swapping the clutch springs on the bonneville for some barnett 'green' springs to try and cure the slipping clutch, the dealership is pretty plush, full of t-shirt buyers just like a harley shop, i spot the 'special' bike up on the plinth, pride of place, thruxton with loads of money thrown at it, i actually liked it until i saw the price tag, bloody fucking hell, fifteen thousand big-ones, for a triumph? that's more than i paid for my first house............

Saturday, 5 July 2014

moto morini riders trackday [a.k.a. the best kept secret in motorcycling]













friday see's me and mr's b up extra-early-door's, it's the morini rider's club practice day at cadwell park, probably the best kept secret in motorcycling, a great day out for everyone, from the first-time track-dayers to serious, tyre-warmer, better set-up, more gear than a british superbike paddock, hardcore trackday veterans, classic, veteran and everything in-between, all out to have some fun in their respective groups, no hassle, no pressure and just a great atmosphere, maximum track time and no niggles, brilliant. tea was drunk, biscuits scoffed and a great piss taking session with a bunch of glaswegians parked up to us, six twenty minute track sessions, the best ducati i've ever seen, [the radical ducati] i shagged my tyres, killed half the flying insect population of lincolnshire and mrs b and me ended up with sunburn, sorted, do yourself a favour and get it in the diary for next year..........