God Speed The Plough

 So, a week away in the Cotswolds, packed  the van with supplies , Mrs B, Bob the Dog and my trusty Trek and  off to our secret hideaway, a converted thatchers barn in fourteen acres of private woodland in deepest, darkest Gloucestershire. Many hours spent watching the wildlife, we saw woodpeckers, jays and tree creepers on a daily basis, the squirrels provided endless entertainment trying to get the birds fat-balls out of the metal cages, it didn’t take them very long to suss that they could spin the fat balls against the thin wire cage and shave pieces off and drop down from the bird table and consume their ill-gotten gains from the ground. The balls being suitably reduced in diameter were soon plucked from the cage by greedy little claws and were soon being carried off across the woodland floor in a frantic squealing burst of  stolen treasure hunting celebration.

A lot of walking and exploration included the Isbourne Way along the River Isbourne and various parts of the Cotswolds Way footpath network and three days mountain biking on the various trails and Bridleway which intersect. The area is surprisingly hilly, you tend to think that the Cotswolds are relatively flat compared to Derbyshire but rest assured dear reader, the climb out of Broadway to the tower and the magnificent Cleeve hills had me blowing like Boris receiving his Covid Penalty Notice! 

Of course, me and mountain biking always end up with some injury every time I ride, I am pleased to report that this excursion was no different from the others and I managed to twat a gatepost in spectacular fashion resulting in numerous cuts and contusions to legs, elbows and somehow managing to fill the peak of my helmet with a combination of mud and cow shit. 

I managed to find Cromwell’s Seat, allegedly the place that Cromwell sat and watched the destruction of Hailes Abbey in the valley below, there’s not a lot of information about  the monument but the carved graffiti is certainly a class above the usual shit found in Derby bus station. The ruins of the Abbey are still visible but keep your money in your pocket if visiting as you can see anything worth seeing from the road. I paid to have a look around and felt like I’d had my pants pulled down, very disappointing and not a patch on Tintern Abbey near Chepstow which is a definite to visit in my opinion. 

  Sitting outside the local village pub, watching the sun set and  quaffing a couple of pints of cider was the perfect end to the day, I mean, when in Rome and all that……

Triumph Factory Visit

 Planned a visit to the Triumph Factory over two years ago but due to the pandemic this was put back until a very wet and wintery day recently. I opted for the full, behind the scenes factory tour which I can highly recommend, there were about fifteen people on the tour and once equipped with safety specs, hi-vis and an earpiece, [it’s a working environment so the earpiece is essential to hear the guide talking over the sounds of industry] we made our way through into the factory via the excellent cafe.

This place is huge! The storage racking must be 25mtrs high, full of parts and completed bikes ready to be shipped to dealers both domestic and worldwide, the factory is state of the art, cnc machines whir with relentless efficiency as they produce the crankshafts, the 3D printer produces parts to build a whole bike in plastic during the development stages so any design problems are ironed out before metal is touched with a machine tool. 

All paintwork is carried out in-house even down to hand pinstriping which is an absolute joy to observe, everything is clinically clean and tidy and the whole operation is fascinating to observe, the quality shines through and a few myths were put to rest once and for all. One of the urban legends is that Triumph motorcycles are not built in Britain. They are. Fact. Triumph supply bikes to overseas distributors in kit form as it saves a fortune in tax rather than supplying fully built machines.

Unfortunately you are not allowed to take photographs inside the factory which you can understand from a  business point of view due to rivals seeing the production methods but the museum is well worth a visit and better still it’s free to get in! Yep, you can just rock up, get a coffee and a bite to eat and wander around the museum and poke the new models with a stick Gratis! 

There’s some really interesting bikes in the museum, Guy Martins salt-flat record attempt bike and the original ‘Ceegar’ streamliner, the Bond film bikes, lots of classics including the racers and Triumph factory customs, the factory tour has to be pre-booked and costs £16, excellent value for money and highly recommended. There’s also a shop so you can stock up on some Triumph merch. Must admit I took a shine to a retro styled racing jersey but hastily placed it back on the rack when I saw the price! £145 went a long way to sticking some new rubber on the FTR 1200 instead,  more of which soon…….

Ess-Rad

 And, then there’s the Classic Team Suzuki Ess-Rad race bike. And all of a sudden I’m regretting selling mine last year…….

Steep Track, Sharp Bend

 Found an old iPod in a drawer today while sorting out some stuff, I stuck it on charge and went about my domestic chores, drank some coffee and stuck bids on Stax records on EBay. I was pleasantly surprised that the olde iPod took the charge so rigged it up to my system via an actual wire lead and stuck it on shuffle. Well, when I say stuck it on shuffle I actually mean I had to work out that it wasn’t actually touchscreen but ‘click wheel’ remember that? How far have we come in such a little time, fuck me, we were grinding corn using a windmill for 700 years and yet I’d actually forgotten that there was an electronic device that wasn’t touchscreen! Anyway, first track that came up was by a forgotten Manchester band called Intastella, a track called ‘People’ It immediately took me back to a pub in Derby called the Garrick, an old mod pub on the Ashbourne Road, me and Barse had originally set out to see a band called Heliotrope, a sort of Levellers / Hawkwind type crossover band that we had seen before at the Vic. But for some reason they no-showed so we decided to take a punt on the Garrick instead. Lo and behold I had my socks knocked off instead by Intastella, remember this is pre- StoneRoses/HappyMondays/Oasis so to see this band smashing it was, well, rather spiffing. All the ingredients of Hammond organ, phasing, live drums and 303’s coupled with a great girl singer,sent us home very happy chappy’s.

Here’s a photo of my Trek. The warning sign made me laugh. Some wag had added the Superman cape to the bloke going over the handlebars, hilarious for around thirty seconds until it was me going over the ‘bars sans cape…….

Writing’s On The Wall

 

Summer of Soul

 I’d heard rumours of this film via the Soul-Source blog, in 1969 there was a series of soul music concerts over a period of six weekends in NY City, everyone who mattered was in attendance, this people was the biggest ever happening ever, from the same year as the Woodstock festival happened there was probably the greatest ever line up of black artists performing a free concert in a park, in Harlem. I had to travel to see this film, a mid-week showing, there were twelve, [count them] other people in the cinema, but, for one hour and fifty seven minutes I was lost, tears ran down my face and I had to wait to exit because I was stunned by what I’d witnessed……..

Attitude In My Altitude

So, a new bike to add to the collection, following my now hard and fast rule of ‘one in, one out’ I sold the KTM 390 track bike due to lack of use during the pandemic and spent the majority buying vinyl soul records for my collection and purchasing an old [2007] Giant mountain bike off a mate who has decided his life would be incomplete without an all singing, all dancing e-bike. Two new tyres, a good clean, new chain and a service see’s me up and running and for the first time in years back in the saddle. A relatively easy trundle of thirteen miles with some good old Derbyshire inclines see’s me breathing through my arse as I suddenly doubt my fitness levels, at the age of 62 I’m never going to seriously take my fitness to what it was but I want to maintain what I have left. 

      I throw the bike in the van and Mrs B, Bob the Dog and myself head down to Shropshire for four days holiday in a delightful shepherds hut. The hut backs onto the Clee Hills and after a couple of decent walks in the area it starts to nag at me if I could actually cycle up there. 

       Now the range of three hills which make up the Clee Hills are 950 feet high so 50 feet shy of being a true mountain but you can still see seven counties from up there with far reaching views over the Welsh Marches, Snowdonia, the Black Country, the Cotswolds, the Malvern Hills, Brecon Beacons and even home to the Peak District. I decide to go for it and set off from the charming hamlet of Bitterley, steady away, all uphill but I’m pleased with the progress I’m making, the road is not in the best condition but it’s a single track with passing places and I only encounter a couple of passing cars. It’s a hot day but the Lane is tree lined with tall hedges which is a blessing, I stop for a water break and the road ahead is ominously steep, down through the gears and I’m soon out of the saddle as I attack the hill.

     I’d like to say I cycled all the way up but have to admit to having to get off and push at a couple of places, I did stop at the brilliantly named Bedlam to take a photo and soon after the road petered out and I was through a gate and onto the trail proper, this was really hard going with the combination of the heat, steepness and my old knackers budget front suspension but after a couple of falls, lots of swearing, sweating and a bit of manhandling I made it to the top. The views are indeed stunning even on a hazy day but far more Interesting are the ruins of the old quarry workings just below the summit, they were very atmospheric and even though graffiti covered added to the magic of the place, stark and brutal, they had me in mind of a Cold War era Soviet gulag, the juxtaposition of the natural beauty and the abandoned industry striking but actually adding to the charm. I googled Clee Hills to find out about the history and the algorithms threw up a YouTube suggestion of a deep techno DJ set by Fleur Shore, a young female DJ/ musician which I listened to whilst exploring and taking in the views.

     I finally decided it was time to skin out and was facing the downhill return journey with some trepidation, let’s just say that I made ‘good progress’ as soon as I reached the made tarmac section back into Bitterley! I don’t think I pedalled at all and was just concentrating on not sliding off on the gravel strewn surfaces, my brakes were giving up the ghost in some places but an exhilarating ride nevertheless on the velo.

     So why ‘attitude in my altitude’? Well, it proved to myself that even though my body isn’t conditioned for such a climb after so long out of the saddle, my sheer attitude got me up there, yes, I was blowing like a bastard and I really struggled but I did it. One thing that struck me was the graffiti in the last photo, ‘life is pointless’ really? Did they really think about that statement before they shook a can of touch-up paint and sprayed it on the wall? If you look carefully someone has added the word ‘beautiful’ under the statement, scratched into the old concrete with a stone or something, I know which statement I believe in……………….

 

Roland Sands Super Hooligans

 As you know, I’m a big fan of the Bagger series but Roland Sands has now introduced the RSD Super Hooligan series which features KTM 890 Dukes, FTR 1200 Indians, Ducati’s, Aprillia’s and various Harleys including the new LiveWire and even a Dyna, I mean, what’s not to like? Check out the highlights video from Laguna Seca……… [click on photo for link to YouTube]

Urban Cammo

 

Love Drips and Gathers…….

 

Acid, Incense and Balloons