dare fuori ma non dare

So, the new whip, yes, it’s italian, yes it’s a moto guzzi and yes I swapped the brilliant little honda for it. I quickly realised that green laning comes with a lot of problems, irate ramblers arguing the toss about rights of way, snooty cows on horseback, [who take great delight in petitioning to overturn ancient right of way lane access to turn them into bridlepaths and then once they have succeeded ride down ‘normal’ roads two abreast and nod and wave to everyone who has to wait whilst their methane producing shit-box’s shy and shimmy all over the road]
The final straw was three toss-pot walkers blocking my way on a ‘boat’ or, byeway open to all traffic. I followed the trail riders advice, pulled over, turned off my bike and waited and then shall we call him ‘trekking pole 1’ decides to patronisingly inform me that ‘I’m breaking the law riding my bike on a footpath’ helmet off and I politely tell him that it’s actually a ‘boat’ and then ‘’trekking pole 2’ decides to enter their ‘tuppence worth, ‘WE, don’t like your sort riding on footpaths and I am going to report you to the police’ at which he whips out his phone and attempts to take a photo of my mud encrusted numberplate. I wipe off the excess mud from the plate so he can see the number clearly and tell him that my machine is a road legal, 2018, insured vehicle on a legal bye-way and he is wasting his time as there is no offence except an illegal numberplate,  [too small] and no reflector present [which is an mot failure]
   At this stage, ‘trekking pole 3’ who I think may have been female although without dna testing being available at this juncture I’m not too sure starts to get  a proper arse on. ‘You are breaking the law, you are riding illegally on a footpath and you are spoiling the countryside for everyone’ as a final resort I get my os map out of my tank bag and show them the cattle grid where our exchange has occurred and then the lane, clearly marked as a ‘boat’. pure fact matters not one iota to these footpath fascists and ‘trekking pole 2’ tries to snatch my keys from the bike whilst informing me he is ‘making a citizens arrest’ enough is enough, I’ve tried and I offer my sincere apologies to the derbyshire off-roading community, getting twatted across the collarbone with a carbon-fibre trekking pole fucking hurts,  not as much as swift kick in the bollocks from a motocross boot though, ‘tp2’ is rolling around in agony as the other two toe-path tossers try to pull me off the bike.
   fuck this for a game of soldiers, I’m off, fuck this off-road, enduro/green laning bollocks, the countryside is for everyone, really? Nah, it’s too much hassle, don’t need this and certainly don’t need to have to explain the why’s and wherefores of access to legal byeways, this incident killed it for me, move on, that’s why I decided I needed another italian bike in the shed.........