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.
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