monday night is always 'miles from nowhere' the bike night at the old 'shipley boat inn' once a run-down canal tow-path pub on the border of derbyshire and our scutty neighbours just over the border in nottingham, [excuse me while i gob on the floor, the spittle balling up in the dust just like lee van cleef in a sergio leone movie , hand hovering over his colt, eyes narrowing,] must remember to revisit some of those classic 'spaghetti' westerns sometime soon, now it's a thriving venue dedicated to all things with an engine, bike nights twice a week, local cruisers and hotrods and staging numerous rally's over the year from V.W's to scooter rally's and everything inbetween, anyhoo, first visit of the year, great to catch up with some old faces, barse filled me in with his recent adventures down to 'linkhert' stevie marsh and deb's and gaz out in force representin' the sporty massive, [there you go mucker, the size of your bike doesn't actually relate to the size of your penis after all, you don't need a 'lard-boy' to be cool, real men ride sportsters, sticking it to the big-twin's since 1957 and remember the 'factory designation is 'XL', yeah, you know why don't you ben?] just the perfect destination on a hot summer night, i'm looking at a ducati diavel 'carbon' sixteen big-one's worth of machine, never liked them in red, but, in bare carbon, bloody-hell, the bloke who on's it say's 'hop-on' to dangerous, no air's and grace's just people interested in motorcycles, from old steely framed dog rough cbr 600's to brand new gixxer's, classic harleys, triumph's, [including the lovely t140 with the sporty forks, expensive brakes and lush paint] kid's from the local estate on scooter's and for me, the bike of the night, the old zedder kwak with the full ohlins suspender's, trick wheel's, original 'blown' yoshi aluminium can and a braced frame, forget all that 'johnny-come-lately' bollocks, this is a locally owned bike, developed over the years by the same bloke, not built in some 'emporium' or fucking 'speedshop', an honest-to-goodness old-school bike, i love MFN me, proper, sorry about the lack of photo's but i spent too long catching up with old mates, making new ones and having the crack to remember to take any piccies, when i did the sun was sinking fast and i'd forgot dangerous hadn't got the bonny headlamp wired up, me, barse on the shovel-fucker and dangerous skinned out on a balmy summer evening, me in front protecting dangerous with my puny bates two and a half candle power chinese 'bates' copy and barse shadowing his back end on the shovester, [back-light fading, dying then coughing back into life before going out all together, deep joy], we don't give a fuck, i give it the berry's through one of my favourite set's of bends, dangerous has to keep up because it's almost dark and he can't see diddly, i can hear him swearing and telling me to 'fucking slow down i can't see fuck-all you...] we turn off and barse carries on straight to home, he's laughing like a drain at our antic's, left foot up on the primary case, a quick wave and we head home......
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