aermacchi

yep, the first real day of spring, only one thing to do really, let's drag the 'macchi out onto the yard and tune the carb, the little beauty start's first press of the starter and i sit steadily revving the bike to two-and-a-half thousand rev's to warm the bike up, sweary turn's up on his little vello' he's grinning like a dog with two dick's as he hear's the aermacchi, the smell of the silkolene forty-weight oil is intoxicating, dangerous is buzzing around making tweaks to the air-screw and tickover, tightening hose clips and looking for oil-leak's, mr's b makes an appearence ten minutes in and gives us a 'scottish head-butt look' i kill the motor and make a brew, sitting in the warm sunshine, it must be ten degree's today and chalky turn's up, another brew and we drop the bike back onto the roller, a sniff of throttle and it start's again, a few more minor adjustments and as the engine get's warm i increase the rev's, we stand there like the four amigo's, [ok, i know there were only three but you get the picture] we are revelling in the sound and smell of a racebike , unfotunately the neighbour's don't get it and give me a few disapproving look's, i don't give a fuck but, when the little scottish hen makes an appearance and gives me the 'shut it bastard or i'm gonna cut 'ya  wee ball's off with ma' dirk' look, i'm not stupid, i know that's it time to return derbyshire to the rural ideal, [and i still value my little bollock's], the little 'macchi is ticking as it cool's, we take another brew and a mr's sweary home-made bun and i take some photo's of sweary's old tt leather's, wax cotton jacket and enamel badges, a whole history here, you can't buy this.....