last weekend i trapped up to darley moor to catch the british historic racing meeting, paid my twelve quid, parked up and watched the always entertaining scooter races before having a walk around the pits, always for me the most interesting part of a race meeting, snatches of conversation, people working on bikes, the loyal army of wives / girlfriends / partners making tea /sandwiches /offering support and kind words when the weekend is going to rat-shit, brilliant. a whole world away from all the pretentious 'look at me and how cool i am' bollocks that i'm growing to despise. in a far off corner i spotted a couple of bikes that stopped me in my tracks, a dohc vee- six bsa, belt driven cams and a dohc belt driven triple bsa, i just stood and stared me, not quite comprehending what i was seeing, after twenty minutes or so i noticed a heavily tattooed bloke slumped in a fold out picnic chair watching me as i walked around the two bikes, i was reduced to just uttering 'fuck' 'fucking hell' 'what the fuck' i bombarded him with questions, why? how? he patiently informed me that he had made the crankshafts, what the fuck! had the cams made, the belt drive was 'just a temporary measure until he could figure out gear driven cams' holy cow batman! there's me dicking about in the shed and then there's pure fucking genius! carbs? 'temporary again, i'm making my own fuel injection system! game over, i'm going to order some rim-tape for my hypermotard, that'll show 'em.........
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