classic racing motorcycle club, darley moor, [part three]

fitted a couple of crash-bung's to stuey's gixxer  tonight and replaced the rusty gutter-bolts holding his hugger on too, anyway, here's something much more interesting, old stuff from the c.r.m.c meeting at darley moor on sunday, air-cooled and not a fucking radiator in sight, [that's an oil-cooler on the honda so that doesn't count]...........

classic racing motorcycle club, darley moor, [part two]

more loveliness from sunday's c.r.m.c meeting at darley moor, [the bikes that is, not the photo of dangerous making fart noises with the palm of his hand, or sweary mick picking his nose......]

northern soul

nancy wilson, 'end of our love' one minute and forty-six second's in........

classic racing motorcycle club, darley moor, [part one]

darley moor, is it ever warm here? no, i don't think so, i've been watching roadracing here for almost forty years and can count on one hand the times i've had to take my coat off, the c.r.m.c are here this weekend for a round of their series, me and dangerous can't make the saturday as we are watching the mighty ram's at pride park, so, we have a family outing up today, sweary, chalky, stuey, dangerous and me make the short journey to check out the racing, castrol 'r', singles, twins, triples and jap four's, sidecar outfit's, tz's, bsa's, triumph's, ducati's, beemer's, harris suzuki's, fahron yamaha's, close racing, cheese cob's and coffee from an aluminium flask, dark chocolate hob-nob's and blue knee's, spring's here gentlemen, start your engines......

classic t.t.

mr's b, what can i say about her? hard as nails, five-foot-fuck-all scottish bird, she turned up this afto with a specially framed, numbered, limited edition classic t.t. poster for me, [dangerous, sweary, chalky and me are going this year, it's my first visit to the fabled island since, ahem, 1982] she know's how much this means to me and as we are celebrating our silver wedding this year, what better way than a boy's holiday to the road racing capital of the world, [mr's b is stopping at home and looking after the kid's and dog's] mr's b, proper, shame she's scottish though.....

football

the first real spring day, we have waited a long time for this, warm sunshine, the wind has dropped and the first time this year me and the boy jack have been to a match without layering up like polar explorer's, today's opponent's are peterborough united, [is it just me or has anyone else noticed the resemblance of darren to 'the leauge of gentlemen's' brilliant actor steve pemberton? mr ferguson is the peterborough manager and the son of alex, the quietly spoken, modest scot's gentlemen who manages a little known team from the north-west] the posh faithful are well up for it oday, a healthy following from, erm, somewhere over to the east a bit, between laahndahn and god's own county of derbyshire, is peterborough in a county? peterboroughshire doesn't sound right to me somehow, right, i've just googled it, peterborough is actually in cambridgeshire, so there, cambridgeshire is famous for having a university where people go to take lot's of drugs, drink alcohol and, well, that's it really] derby pulverise the visitor's, corner after corner, i really can't remember seeing so many corner kick's, derby, as usual can't put one away and it looks like its going to be one of those days again, five minutes before half time, good approach play saw craig bryson smashing the back of the net out with a close range effort, one-nil to derby, posh came out huffing and puffing after the break but were soon brought back to earth with two goals in two minutes from martin and keogh, three-nil, easy, then a moment of madness from fellow jack russell fancier, derby goal-keeper-frank-fielding saw frank straight red carded and sent off, posh pulled a goal back and a nervous twenty minutes was endured, a remarkable seven minutes added time being played by, to be quiet frank, [with apologies to our frank who got sent off, blah, blah, blah] were inept to say the least, the lino on our side couldn't make a decision without checking with the ref first, nine minutes into extra time and with the majority of fans from both sides gone, the cleaning staff sweeping up, the police adding up their overtime and me thinking about my takeaway curry] the ref blew up, the ram's are safe for another season in the second tier of english football, deep joy, pass the poppadom's........

pastor t.l. barrett and the youth for christ choir

pastor t.l. barrett and the youth for christ choir, every now and again i discover a little gem from nowhere, this got played today on radio 6, as soon as i got home i ordered it, rare as fuck, released in 1971, self funded by chicago's south-side based pastor barrett, himself a complex character, guilty of pyramid selling, but, totally commited to civil right's,  keeping kid's off the street's and personal development,  'pastor barrett could hear the sound on the horizon, the sound of anger, the sound of change, the sound of soul.....' ladies and gentlemen, listen and learn.....

inspiration, ruling the nation, with version....

this guzzi does it for me, so tough, the ducati 916 fairing jars a little, i know it's a style icon but i think it would have looked better with an avon type classic fairing, just saying, the rs 125 seat unit is a touch of genius, i love them, [the majority of the mz racers run with them, we had one on our bike], the matt black paint, the silver swingarm, mono-block calipers, upsidedowner's, ohlin's shock, wavy-discs and underseat pipe, lush, don't know what the tank's off but it work's, oh yeah, i have the mashing's of the best part of another bmw boxer up at my ma's, watch this space.........

sporty

blimey, it's thursday night, i've spent the week listening to the ram's getting a last minute equaliser away at barnsley on a tuesday night to salvage a much needed point to stave off the relegation worries, listening to mr's thatcher's funeral on five-live, i stick by my previous thought's, i still think she should have had a private, family funeral and not all the pomp and ceremony that accompanied the procession through london town and don't get me started about the cost to the tax payer, i look at in football term's, [i'm a simple derbyshire youth me], one-nil to maggie, oh yeah, done a bit on the sportster too, finally rounded up sparky paul and managed to nail him down, basically, the wiring on my bike is shit and need's a new loom, paul's measured up and is on with it as i post, ['eye of newt, large donner, chilli sauce, no fucking salad 'yer bastard, do i look like a vegetarian?] i leave him to it, it's all smoke and mirror's to me, can't get my head around all that electrickery stuff, i just shake, shake, shake it like a polaroid picture, [the rattle can that is] and spray my bates black, i'm on a mission now, the bike is just disappearing before my very eye's, no shouting, no 'look at me! i'm here' just more stealthy than a very stealthy stealth thing..........

sporty

ok, i admit it, i've dropped a bollock, i love the racebike aesthetic, i pushed it too far, daytime m.o.t, no headlight, carbon numberboard, look's great, but the reality is that you are watching the clock all the time, just when all the interesting machines are turning up at the local bike-night, you are on your way home before you get a pull from the local constabulary, you have to wait until dawn before you venture out, an already short riding season is reduced even further, so, headlight going back on, admittedly, it's only a four and a half inch, chinese copy, bates, but, at least i can ride during the hours of darkness, the paintwork is finished, i'm pretty chuffed with it for a rattle-can job, halford's satin black with a plasti-kote satin varnish top coat to seal it, i dropped the bates and gave it a coat of satin black, the rim and the shell, look's better than the gloss shell and chrome rim, this bike is going to be 'stealth', i'll leave the bling to my old mucker's  marshy and ben jones, bloody hell, next thing you know they'll be having their forklegs gold nitrided, oh, they all ready have?, well, there you go, no accounting for taste i suppose, i prefer my bikes well engineered and subtle, looking at the sporty i hadn't noticed how shit the shock mounting bolts looked, stainless steel?  check, machined up to remove the manufactures marks? check, looking good? no, what the fuck was i thinking of? got them in the lathe and machined them up, dished and drilled, proper,  the seat? thirty quid e-bay special, as above for the paintwork, the seat cushion is a honda rs seat pad, re-worked to fit the flatrack  profile, carefully cut to shape with a craft knife, the close cell neoprene lends itself to shaping with wet and dry, scalloping the edges to get some shape into it, job done, i have to stop every sixty miles for fuel anyway so comfort's out of the window anyway, fuck me, if i wanted something practical i would have bought an anorak, or a honda or suzuki or yamaha or kawasaki and let's face it, it looks cooler than a hand-tooled leather seat with colt  pistols and skulls doesn't it ben.........

punk rock

yep, it's saturday night, and i'm searching for 'gotta go' by agnostic front, i get distracted and find this gem by the rumjacks instead, i hate youtube me....