Saviem:
Gentlemen, Gentlemen, all these posts concerning the demon drink are going to make us all seem like befuddled alcoholics!I well remember ,(in my youth, of course), going to a party in the next village. Intent on impressing the local talent, I packed my best suit, and my new, (and I was earning the pittance paid to an apprentice watchmaker remember), winkle prickers, in a kit bag, and strapped them to the petrol tank of my girder fork suspended Aerial VB 600 side valve… lest they become soiled by passing road dirt…or the numerous oil leaks that my old girl seemed to have.
Now there is not a lot that one can do to improve the performance of a side valve Aerial, (except part exchange it for something that has the potential of travelling faster…perhaps a Francis Barnett 125 Villiers)!..So to generate a sporty image, I turned the handlebars upside down, and with a new hacksaw blade "abbreviated " the mudguards, and removed the performance sapping rusty chrome silencer…
So arriving at the venue, and parking my trusty steed leaning like a man after 10 pints of Banks`s best, on her side stand, I was able to change, (with my hosts permission), from threatening “ton up lad”, …well in appearance only…into a female chasing lounge lizard…(now it was many years ago).
I shall not bore you with the details of my exploits, but can reveal that my success, (post several, and many pints of Banks`s finest Mild ), was a number of dances with the most gorgeous young thing, resplendent in a “stick out” skirt, in the most fetching shade of yellow, and a skin tight jumper in the most verdant green…funny those were the fleet colours of Wolverhampton Corporation Transport, whose redoubtable Guy Arabs bore the municipal crest, and motto…“out of darkness cometh light”…probably should have been adopted by Wolverhampton Wanderers football club. And the colour scheme which I rather liked probably attracted my eye!!
The night was a complete success…I walked her home…the kiss…the promised date…ah bliss…but when I returned to the “venue”…all was in darkness, and my motorcycle clothes were inside!!!
No problem, for my heart was beating with amour! Turn on the petrol, a quick tickle of the Amal, and my steed roared into life…in truth it was probably similar to an Elephant breaking wind…But I “sped” home on gossamer wings of young love…
That was until I banked over for the first of the S bends approaching our home village. Now true, though Iwas not recognised as such, I really was a rival to Geoff Duke, and as my trusty steed droned on at a totally impossible angle of inclination( given the angle of lean to speed ratio, speed with a VB being modest indeed), I was on the Isle of Man, sweeping around the Bungalow, and my erstwhile dancing partner was staring in admiration of my skill from the roadside!!
Not true, for in reality, the low speed, coupled with a lack of adhesion from the worn tyres, coupled with the pointed projection of my right foot winkle pricker hitting the road…and breaking clean off, a bit like the nose cone of a space rocket, but at more modest velocity…Created the mother and father of all tank slappers which I as the “ace” that I was…totally failed to control, and found myself prone amongst the earnest, and featureless Gnomes, around someones garden pond…wherin rested my high performance steed!!!
What followed was painful both physically, and mentally, and perhaps is not better documented here, but I have to say that…
Since that miserable night I have avoided like a plague the delights of Beer, much preferring the esoteric delights of Wine, and SpiritsGood night, I shall raise my Bollinger to you all,
Cheerio for now.
Lol…This is why I am also a fan…The way you tell your story is superb. Your description of your night on the tiles and the subsequent parking of your motorbike in a front garden is vivid and paints a brilliant picture…Maybe that night is where you first developed a liking for driving vehicles across grassy fields?
Keep up the good work!