tuesday night, three days to go, can't get friday off work, got a couple of lads on holiday so i'm in at five friday morning, get my shift out of the way and home, quick shower and back into derby to pick the hire van up, home, load the van and off to cadwell, i reckon we should be there for around 10ish friday night, meanwhile the zed attempts to jump off the bench and head for the open road and back to it's natural habitat of commuting backwards and forward to work rather than face the thrashing it's going to get at the weekend......

monday night, chris w. chris s. barse and me met up in the thomas leaper for a pint before going to the bell to see new york hardcore legends agnostic front, we got in around eight and watched the two support bands poundaflesh and all will suffer who both turned out a great set, agnostic front took the stage around ten and for the next hour kicked our asses with full -on, hardcore' punk/oi/metal at full volume, roger miret pounding his chest with the mic as if he was stuggling to get the rage out of himself, vinnie stigma straffing his guitar and chopping out the powerchords to the small but appreciative crowd, all too soon it was over, no encore, just the mighty 'warriors' to send us on our way home through the heavy rainfall, a great night.

sunday, i'm so nervous about the coming weekend's racing at cadwell i feel sick, yesterday i nipped up to neil's at ashfield and dropped the oil on the ducati, new filter and a quick 80 mile blast from mansfield to newark on what neil calls 'the test track', i turn off onto the a617 through sherwood forest, got wet through in a really heavy shower and back home, today i head out on the sporty, i'm fed up with derbyshire after last weekend, i head south into leicestershire, through kegworth and onto the a6006 down through rempstone and wymeswold into melton mowbray and down the 606, skirting rutland water and into oakham, onto the 6003 and another county, northamptonshire, i pull onto the forecourt of the harley/ducati stratstone dealership, have a brew and kit-kat and observe the two-tribes, one harley davidson [tm], people, buying lifestyle [tm] clothing, and blister pack nick-nacks to add to their already overweight, overpriced over-rated bikes, proudly flying their 'hog' patches, listen, if you want to wear a back-patch, man-up, go and join a proper club, the other lot are dressed head to toe in dainese leathers complete with hydration humps and custom shoei helmets it's interesting to listen in on the conversations, 'yeah, i'm going for the big 300 backend, custom spray-job with gold leaf and performance machine calipers over winter' and the 'yeah, i bought my girlfriend the 848, it feels so slow after the 1198 especially with the drive out of the bends', i finish my tea and clean my visor, i'm ready to do what i've come here for, the thirteen miles of road known as the b664, probably the best biker road in britain, technical, hairpins, jumps that remind me of kell's in ireland, [never been, hope to next year, but iv'e got the dvd], brilliant, no old bill, bumpy and fantastic, i'm panting as i arrive in market harborough after fighting the big harley, i must stop here one day and have a look around, it's a lovely place, i head out onto the second best biker road in britain, the b6047, imagine the most scary theme park ride, times it by six, add a dash of blind summit's, off-camber triple apex bends, gravel on the line, tractors turning out of fields and flat-out, stupidness and you still can't imagine it, it fucking scares me to death but i still love it, ride it before the powers -that- be ban it, back into melton and i slow it down, i make my way over to melbourne via peggs green and wilson, past donington park, this time last year it was the international norton day, today it's eerily quiet, into sawley, past the marina and into dale abbey, last time i stopped here the kid's were little, 8 miles away from my house and so much history, i pull off and park up, walk to the surviving eastern arch, it's massive, the abbey, long gone now must have dominated the skyline, it dates from the 12th century and stands proud over 8 metres high, 'with every morn's uprising, pouring wide, along dark aisles a splendour still the same, as when, each dewy prime, with reverent guide, the white robed company came. and now thou standest broken, bare and lone, reft of thy pride, a crumbling frame of stone', dale abbey by thos.l. turner.

first match of the season, away to dirty leeds, so much history between the clubs, the now infamous 44 day clough reign, the hatred between clough and revie, the franny lee and norman hunter punch up that started on the pitch and continued in the tunnel in full view of the television camera's i can remember standing on the terraces at the baseball ground and the leeds fans throwing nuts and bolts at us, the first
away match i took my son to was leeds away, first game of the season like today, that was a draw, today we beat them 2-1, i'm sure wherever brian is he would have been relishing the win over dirty leeds, especially as his son is now our manager, oh yeah, another thing, forest lost and the brian clough way 'linking derby and nottingham' signs?, we don't want to be linked with those wankers! 'when your'e tired and weary, your heart will skip a beat, you'll get your fuckin' head kicked in as you walk down shaftesbury street, you walk into the popside, you hear a mighty roar, fuck off you forest bastards!, we are the derby boy's!'

my entry for cadwell got accepted, received my final instructions, passes and tec-spec stuff today, had it posted to work so gus didn't chew it up, bloody hell. there's no excuses now, no way out , i'm going racing for real....

i'm walking the dog's and my phone rings, it's barse, 'dude, you going up m.f.n tonight?', it's a nice afternoon, just after six pm, 'yeah mate, i'm up for that mine at seven?', i grab a shower and get the sporty out of the shed, what' happened to the weather, the cloud is low and the sky dark, barse traps on the shovel, stu soon after and gordy seconds later, we drop into lower kilburn so i can put some air in my front tyre and head out to heanor, the skies open, heavy, unrelenting rain from nowhere, this is the second time this year i've worn my open faced cromwell and the second time it's chucked it down, we are soaked in seconds, barse guns the shovel in front of me, twin rooster tails of spray shooting into the air, his rear mudguard is scanty, the front none existant, we are laughing like drains, i can hear barse above the racket of our engines, we pull up at a set of lights and we decide to head to mfn anyway, within a mile the roads are dry and the sky lightens, derbyshire's micro climate strikes again, into m.f.n, [miles from nowhere], the attendance is down for a monday night, i spy kev's 'green meanie' sporty, the beautiful mv agusta and a couple of dozen jappers, we down a coke, proper shaped bottle, not that syrup stuff out of the tap and spend a great couple of hours bench racing, me and barse gun it up the long lane heading towards the main road, we swap position, i'm standing on my pegs, barse is superstyling on the shovel, he overtakes me, i overtake him, he overtakes me again, i overtake him again and brake for the junction, barse doesn't, his master cylinder has given up the ghost and he paddles the big harley to a stop, we head back towards derby, the lads go straight on, i hang a right, quick wave and have a slow ride back, i pull over to watch the sunset over the chevin, as the sun drops behind the hills the temperature drops and i pull on my wet gloves and start the sporty.

sunday, barse, and gordy turn up at mine at twelve, we have a brew and skin out, down to duffield, onto the wirksworth road, onto the via-gellia towards newhaven, 'safety partnership' camera van at pikehall, bloke pulling out of his drive behind the van nearly has me off, that would have made a great photo, 'safety partnership'?, onto the 515 and into buxton, cloud heavy, spotting on my visor now, we pick up the leek signs and head up out off buxton, dalehead signs appear and we turn left onto a minor road, we stop for a slash, the weather is closing in now and it's dropped 10 to 15 degrees since we left holbrook, £10 entry fee, too much money in my opinion, attendance is bare to say the least, we are at the home of the buxton 'hitmen' speedway team to catch a round of the uk short-track racing as championed by 'sideburn', park up and grab a brew, the racing is tight, the circuit small and bumpy and the riders are struggling to find grip, the italian lad is on a mission, bloody fantastic to watch, up on the back wheel down the hundred yard long straight, dab of back brake and the arse-end is hanging out, bucking and weaving, very classy, we spend a couple of hours taking it all in and we meet some nice people, bloke with a class bonneville project shows us some pictures of his bike, another geezer in a deathspray t-shirt tells me his mate has a shovelhead, 'nice bike that, not like your mates, that looks dangerous, like a fucking hand grenade', we turn left and head down towards onecote down a potholed, gravel track, i'm laughing to myself as barse guns the shovel, footdown, scattering the sheep and fighting to keep it on the thin ribbon of tarmac, we head through monyash and into bakewell, the bike museum is open today, well worth a visit, tiny but packed with class bikes, we stop for fuel and turn off the a6 towards winster, i gun the sporty and i'm past robin hood's stride and turn left onto the via-gellia towards cromford, i pull into a layby to wait for barse and gordy, i wait ten minutes but they have turned off to have a brew with nick in youlgrave, i turn off towards alport heights and pull over, i sit on a stone wall listening to the sporty ticking as it cools down, i get a photo of the abandoned digger in a field and glance up at the planes as they turn left and head towards lockerbie before their journey across the atlantic, i head back towards home and pull up at a junction, 'diversion' signs point both ways, only in derbyshire...............

trophy on e-bay, saturday night bike-porn.

#30, dangerous dave crofts, 248 ducati, sticking it up 'em since 1964.

dangerous dropped another race programe off today, he's in it, there's a bloke called john cooper from derby in it, racing at the same meeting, you might have heard of him, he beat some italian bloke called agostini at mallory in what a lot of people reckoned was one of the best races ever

the lads look on in disbelief as i fuck up my bid on e-bay for a spare 250 mz engine, i'm a luddite when it comes to computers, i'm confident i'm going to score a 251 etz motor for £80 and i hold off my bid until 30 seconds before the end of the auction, i press my bid button laughing as i confirm......... only to discover i'm not logged in, twat.....