CDogMan wrote:

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They have motorcycles up there Mares?? So now I wont have to worry about looking like I am from outer space when I ride up to have a beer with your hubby?? That is good to know.... I will need a place to park though... I am afraid my kickstand will sink in the snow, so I cannot park by your dogsled (I love you mares)

Take a bit of ply wood, 5 ply, about 1ft square, but that on the snow, then the stand on that, then ease it down to find it's own level.

On my way to the clubhouse, at some lights, turning left, biker opposite turning right, moves to cut in front of me.

Cagers at this point, probably get all antsy and start swearing, hitting horns, retaliating.

Bikers just anticipate this, and so I cut my turn short to let him through. He didn't overtake me.

so, I ride like I ride, pootling along about 35 through rush hour traffic, snigger, filtering faster than a Gold Blend ad actor where they make percolator noises, this fucking bike is sticking with me. WTF?

Look again, and it's a an old Yam. meh. late 80's tourer by the looks of it.

Get to the bypass, lifesaver, old man yam is there, give it some beans. Goodbye, see you in a few light years.

Arse, it's starts to rain on the by-pass, just a tad, hinting at rain to come. This is the only by-pass in England, where no matter how hot and still it is, you get a head wind in both directions, plus a sidewind on the bridge over the river.

So, bearing in mind the rain, I stick at just over the ton. Old man yam, catches me up again, on account of me going slow.

Right you sod, I knock it down a cog, give it handful, and am doing 125 bang on the 200yd marker for the exit, when I cut in front of mr and mrs trundle in their 1.1l boring cage, go down through the box, brake a bit, enter the exit at 90, slam the anchors on, release them before I load the front end up, take the corner damned near perfect left hander at 45, switch indicator to right, Yam still up my tail pipe, take the roundabout at 30, then bang it down under the railway bridge, through the chichane, and then obey the speed limits through the village.

Get there, bike follows me in, it's only the fucking club vice-president behind me on an old wreck he bought to sell, grinning like a cheshire cat. "You're improving son. I thought it was you, that's why I didn't overtake you at the lights".

me = chuffed


Yell if you need a translation