late april in merrye olde england, spring is sprung, the bird's are singing happily, the new born lambs frolicking in the warm spring sunshine, the sap is rising, hey d.j, can a get a ree, ree, ree, wwww, wer, werrrr, ine, ind, rewind, spring? certainly doesn't feel like that today, i'm up early door's, the dog posse sniff, stretch and show their disgust at being dragged out of their bed's to face the decidedly unseasonable element's, ten minutes into the five-miler and their ear's are back, i'm wet, old fashioned wet, wetter than a very wet thing with added comedy value hose-pipe wettness and the temperature, cold, we ford the stream, it's four feet above the normal level, all this and we are officially in a draught warning, hosepipe ban in force, as we continue the walk water is flowing through the dry-stone walls that retain the bank's, the cloud is low and the sky is dark, three miles in and i'm on my knee's, a combination of gus-the-bastard pulling against his harness and the mud, my curses are caught on the squally north-easterly, ted is looking back over his shoulder at me with accusing look's, we get home after a mammoth effort, mr's b get's us a bowl of warm, soapy water and a couple of towels and i wash the boy's down, they are shaking with the cold, i soak under the hot shower, breakfast and a couple of cup's of hot tea, phone ring's, it's dangerous, 'ey up youth, shall we go to the show or what?' an hour later and we are at stafford for the biggest classic bike show in the world, twice a year we make the pilgramage, spring and autumn, we can't even park the dangerous mobile on the site and end up parking on a nearby country lane and tabbing in, the majority of traders are making a swift exit and still we have to pay full price admittance, fucking outrageous, i argue my point but get the robot, standardised version, 'sorry sir, we can't offer a discount, if you read the term's and conditions regarding inclement weather, blah, blah, blah' just fuck off, pay the money, and let's get on with it, first point of call is to see 'stainless steve' to stock up on fastener's, he's standing in a field, swamped with mud, his awning has blown away and his wares, in plastic trays. are an inch deep in water, he's wearing a jester's hat and a toothless grin, 'ey up bastard's, where you bin?' welcome to the classic bike show at stafford................
i admit it, the weather was so bad we took refuge in the show halls as soon as possible, as i said in a previous post most of the trader's were packing up, or, had already skinned out and no-one can blame them, the hall's were full of brilliant, brilliant machines, you really can't take it all in, [well i can't anyway], there really is just so much to look at, so many gem's from motorcycling history, as you may have noticed i've posted a few pictures of the triumph and b.s.a triple's, the top photo is a great example of an immaculate race bike, prepared by richi foss the scottish bike builder, [don't hold that against him though, ok, that's a jest, mr's b has the blue and white blood running through her vein's], the vintage new hudson 'tanker' hit the spot, as did the lovely ariel arrow, fond memories of these, one of the first 'proper' bikes i ever rode, thrashing the shit out of it on the field's where i was brought up, all summer that poor little bike had to suffer the abuse of a load of kid's, some barely able to reach the gearchange lever, revved beyond belief, crunching through the gears, clutch on fire, tyres almost jumping off the rim's, crashing it and suffering a horrible fate when it eventually seized solid, thrown ten feet into the storm culvert at the back of elvaston castle, the four carb's are attached to the brilliant 'skinner special', single seater racing car on the amal stand and finally, the dmw two-stroke, the what? the dmw, produced in the heart of england, 'the black country', so called for by the amount of heavy industry in the area, the air often thick with the black smoke of the foundries, the dmw was a 499cc two sroke twin, basically a pair of 250cc villiers 'starmaker' heads and barrel's coupled by a common crankshaft and punting out a healthy 60bhp should have been more than competitive as a racer, unfortunately the project was shelved after some little teething problem's, the crowd's eventually thin out around 1530 hr's, i pick up my amal mk 2 smoothbore's up from surrey cycles, complete with long bell-mouth's, they look the business, even if they are the derided 'spanish' casting's, the pair i have are both left handed models, a real ball-ache on a british parallel twin where you can't get to the tick-over adjuster due to the frame spine, no problem on a bmw twin though where the cylinders stand out horizontally into the ether, i picked up a good selection of milling tool's, some stainless and aluminium stock and a mint copy, first edition, of the joey dunlop 'just joey' hardback book by jimmy walker for a paltry three english pound's, result.........
