catch a rude awakening

 talk about catch a rude awakening, big shock this week, my old mucker, big stevie marsh had two heart attacks and nearly copped it, i've known steve since we were both fifteen, apprentices at the same engineering firm, forty years ago, in that time we've seen wifes, partners and girlfriends come and go, raced bikes, got tattooed, lost good mates, lost our dad's and had children, [not with each other i hasten to add], we go back a long, long way me and steve. jammy fucker that he is, he only had his attack in hospital, he wasn't attending, just doing a job there, straight into the casualty department, where he had his second attack, he had his operation to fit two stents into his heart yesterday, his left ventricle blocked in two places, when i say blocked, i mean blocked, ninety-five percent closed off, the surgeon who carried out his op. reckons he's the luckiest man alive and also the unluckiest man alive, steve is teetotal, doesn't smoke and eats healthily and yet had a massive blockage in his heart. steve is a bear of a man, at 1500 hrs yesterday he was in intensive care, at 1500hrs today he was ringing me and asking me to help him take a walk, we made the short journey to roadhouse tattoo to see ben, 'suppose i'm not getting your dyna then steve?' 'fuck off jonesy!' comes the reply from steve, hold tight, here we go, i tell steve i'd already cleared space for his sportster in my shed and i'm dissapointed, 'fuck off bailey' comes the reply, barse is sitting patiently having his stomach and ribs hammered by ben, the crack is flowing, harley bob, [the honda specialist], turns up, tea is drunk and steve regails a full shop about an alleged incident that took place between myself and an ex-girlfriend on a childrens swing in a public park that resulted in some superficial contusions, a split lip and knettle rash to somebody's private parts, [allegedly], the afternoon disintegrates from here on in, profanity, jokes of a sexual nature, the size of one's gonads relating to the capacity of the bike you ride and then? well, i was going to keep it a secret, but? it's just a priceless comedy moment, one of ben's customers children has made ben a gun out of cardboard, sticky-tape and toilet roll holders, ben decides to run up and down the road outside the shop making machine gun noises at the traffic, 'ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!' all hilarious until the police turn up with an armed response unit, just another day at roadhouse tattoo but a life affirming afternoon for the rest of us...............

take off your cool

waiting for parcels, two very cool parcels, one turned up at work today and took me by complete suprise, i'd forgotten i'd ordered the oberon mini-bar end mirror, not the two parcels i'd ordered after all, still, a nice suprise nevertheless, oberon stuff is top-notch quality that works, get on their website and have a look, lovely, lovely stuff, oh yeah, made up a replacement for the bracket that sit's in front of the engine between the downtubes, an ugly, horrible piece of shit, the original item is slotted because theres no-way it's going to bolt straight up, the tolerances are that far out, it's that rough, another night wasted on a bit that no-one will even notice, oh well, still waiting for two parcels of treasure........

there ain't half been some clever bastards......

only got the chance to have a very, very brief walk around the paddock at cadwell park on friday during the short lunch break, here's a few pics of some of the bikes in the immediate area, check out the twin engined triumph outfit, there ain't half been some clever bastards..........

a strangely isolated place

fifteen and three-quarter's of an hour after setting off for the british historic racing practice day at cadwell park, i'm sitting in my shed with dangerous quaffing a couple of bottles of staropramen, it's been a strange day, early start, our traditional breakfast at the golden arches, egg mcmuffins and coffee, heavy, overnight rain and a pretty average weather forecast of low temperature, low cloud and persistent showers doesn't bode well, down for scrutineering, bike through ok bar us getting a bollocking for not running an oil catchment tank, basically the 'gravy tray' that we bolt underneath the bike to catch any fuel/oil/lubricant spills, i'd got it out i promise, it's just that we can't get the bike up the plank and into the van with it fitted and i'd left it on the bench, noise testing goes ok, ninety-seven decibels at four thousand rpm, sticker on and i'm happy, not so when i get my leathers, helmet, gloves and boots checked, my left boot is worn through under the instep and it takes some eating of humble pie and promises to replace them next time to get a signature on the tech card, briefing done, wristband's issued and i miss the first session, bollocks, luckily, the day is under subscribed, i reckon the weather forecast has put a lot of people off. it actually brightens up throughout the day and the track eventually dries, especially the mountain / hall bends / hairpin / barn complex where it's initially very damp under the trees. the early sessions see 45 bikes out on track, solo's one, solo's two then sidecars, i just do a twenty minute session, get flagged, off the track and straight back into the holding area for the next session, basically forty minutes track time each time, repeated throughout the day, brilliant value at sixty quid for the day, dangerous reckons it cost me 15 pence a lap the amount of time i got. initial thoughts on the new engine? brilliant, rev's easily through and beyond the red line, loads more power than before, got to modify the gear linkage, it's just too flimsy at six mil, need to step it up to ten mil so the gearchange is more positive, the bike just feels great to ride. a cold, damp, cadwell park in early spring, a strangely isolated place indeed, i get the reality check i need in the second to last session of the day, i tip into the uphill, left-hand bend at the end of the start / finish straight, drop a gear for the double apex charlies, blind entry and lose concentration, i'm off the track and onto the wet grass before i know it, how i keep it upright i don't know, i'm dabbing the back brake to try and scrub off some speed and the arse end is fish-tailing all over the bloody place, brakes just don't work on wet grass, at least i had the sense not to grab a handful of front stopper, lesson learned, i'm cold, i'm tired, i've had a great day, need to reign it in and call it a day instead of pushing it, i'm mad at myself for running off the track, but, you know what? there's no where else i'd rather be today..............

i can't feel my hand anymore, it's alright

i don't think i can ever go back to work again. a whole week off, is this really what life is about? i'm still up early doors, [in our house no-one ever really sleep's, jess in at some un-godly hour, dog's patrolling in the middle of the night trying to kill the cat / badger / fox, jack and me getting up at stupid o' clock for work, plus my nightly waking for a pee / check to see if i turned off the battery charger / or, that must-read-now-team-bike-24 hour-endurance race-report from 1981 that suddenly popped into my brain, or the obscure northern soul instrumental from stafford that i must track down, now, if not sooner....] i'm feeling a tad nervous, everything is going too well, me and the dangerous one are too organised, van booked, new tyre on, lockwiring done, had to make a spacer up so i can change gear with the new link pipes fitted,  couldn't get my boot under the lever on up-changes, well, i probably could, but it 's just much more comfortable now and takes out any guess-work whilst shifting. just fuel to get in our motley collection of jerry can's, get the new race number viny'ls off roy, fit the numberboards and we are almost ready for the bhr test day at cadwell on friday. started the beemer and tried it with the new pipes to see what it sounds like, with the standard baffles in i reckon we will be ok, team loveless vs the noise machine, rev it to around five thousand rpm and it's a different story, baffles out? fruitier than a fruit bat with a big hard-on! plan is to get noise tested with baffles in then drop them out for the practice sessions once we have the 'noise tested' sticker on the fairing. even found time to do a bit on the false triumph, front indicators mounted, resistors in and wired up, found a nice pair of 'stealth' headlamp brackets on the 'tinterweb that really suit the project, junked the shite fasteners and turned up some stainless fittings and spacers, headlight sits a barely noticeable inch and a half lower and an inch and a quarter closer to the yokes, but, i reckon it looks a million times better. gave the stock chain guard a bit of therapy too, milled some holes in it, chopped the back off it and shaped it with a file and wet and dry, quick blast with a rattle can in satin black, sorted. don't usually run chain guards on my bikes, but, like i said before, its all about looking across a carpark and thinking, hmmm, look's ok but i can't quite figure out why? you dig?..........

derby five - forest nil

derby day today, us vs them, the rams vs forest, derby vs nottingham, steve mclaren vs billy davis, so much history, davis was our manager, mclaren their manager, don't even mention the clough / taylor years, so many players swapping sides and allegiances, playing for both clubs, i hate forest me, i hate them with a passion, fuck them and the donkey they rode in on, today we dicked them proper, five- fucking- nil, five - nil, five - nil, five- fucking- nil, five - nil on your big day out! it's brilliant to be a ram today, i shed a tear or two i admit, the stuff of legends,  had to go to work today, see the picture of the lads outside the neptune at 0700hrs, beer and breakfast, love to have been there but everyone has to make a living, there's no-way i was missing this fixture, made it into the ground with seconds to spare and had to go back after to finish my shift, but, you know what? i wouldn't have missed it for the world, 'since i was young, i followed them, d.c.f.c, the team for me.......'  bryson hat-trick,  live on sky tv to add to the dog's humiliation, billy davis and you forest scum, fuck right off...............