miles from nowhere

monday night, all roads lead to miles from nowhere, it's a nice evening, dry, if a little cool, but that's what you expect in early september, jump on the sporty and make the short journey, park up in the big pub yard and look around, it's a very sparse attendance for a late summer/early autumn night, grab a bottle of coke, say hello to ammo and lynda and have a look around the bikes, my old mucker glen, [aka midnight], turns up on his bike, glen isn't your normal harley rider, he's black, [no shit sherlock] he's got dreads, a panhead and a rigid s+s motored shovelhead chop, we catch up and discuss everything from his recent tour of portugal on the chop, the forthcoming dice party this weekend and racing the boxer, a few year's ago we upset some bro's at a rally when glen hijacked the sound's and started playing some old ska tunes, good times indeed, barse turns up on his shovel, more banter and it's time for this princess to skin out as it's starting to get dark and i ain't got no steenkin' light's baby, i have to stop on the way home though, i'm a sucker for sunrises and sunsets me.........