Picture one of those balmy sunny weekend days, you know, those rare occasions that happen maybe once or twice a year. the weathers perfect, traffic is minimal and you're in the right frame of mind for a spin on the bike.

Well a few weeks ago such conditions presented themselves and off I went, all relaxed and at one with the world, just tootling along minding my own business when....BLAM a violent blast of noise followed by buffetting from slipstream....I recovered my senses to see some sort of Harley barrelling down the road. The noise was deafening and he was really shifting. I raised and eyebrow to myself but I was determined not to let anything destroy my tranquil afternoon when, of all things, the idiot went and gave me the finger.....!!!!!!!

Now I'm not one to easily get angry but I must admit the red mist came down and I took off in pursuit.
I slowly gained on him, when, he glanced in his Iron Cross mirror dropped a cog and shot off. Wow, that thing could shift but the race was on, honour needed to be served. There was no turning back.

I managed to stick to his tail for a couple of miles but it was hard work. His bike was obviously not standard and he was leaving me for dead in the straights but I could claw back the distance lost in the bends, and I knew this road. Up ahead was a couple of miles of really twisty road, perfect.
I stayed in touch and held on until we arrived at the point where I knew I had the advantage. as we went through the first left hander I saw my opponent glance nervously in his mirror and I sensed his fear, he knew his advantage was lost.

Within the first three corners I was right on his back wheel, the roar and blast from his straight through pipes pounded my face, the sparks from his pegs showered me but there was to be no turning back.
At the next bend I showed him my front wheel and he responded with a twist of throttle that had the rear tyre spinning leaving a black line down the road, the back of his bike weaving. He was on the ragged edge and I knew I had him.

We tipped into a left and I got on the inside, then flicked into a hard right, this allowed him to edge away again but I knew the next blind corner was a long left and I had the line. As we entered the corner I grit my teeth, now or never, this was it. I got my front wheel ahead and hit the apex spot on, forcing him wide and as I straightened up coming out of the corner I was ahead, I'd done it.

I look over my shoulder to see him falling back behind me, and, he raised his hand in salute before turning off and away.

I pulled over to the side of the road, I needed a drink.
I was elated but shaking all over, bathed in sweat but happy.. I had won.

And I can tell you, he was a good rider. I can honestly say I've never pedalled that mountain bike so hard in my life!!!!!!!!!!


Cheers, SB

 

Classic Seb, and top marks for the serious typing effort there. An advanced Pitmans candidate I would think.

 

You had me there Seb

 

Luvvit

 

A Blonde once explained to me (and I believed her because she was quite pretty);

If you have 10 bikes in your garage;
Using the space available.
Then each bike uses 10% of the area available.

But, if you have 20 bikes.
Each one only takes up 5% of the space.

Since we pay rent or rates.

Then each additional bike you have, costs relatively less to own.
So; the more you have the cheaper they are.

Obvious.!!

 

There was this couple who lived in Wyoming.

One night, at 3am, the phone rings.

The husband answers the phone and suddenly says, "How should I know, it's 1200 miles from here!" and then hangs up.

The wife asks, "Who was it, dear?"

Husband says, "Some idiot wanted to know if the coast is clear."

 

^ Good un Woof

 

Fred and his brother, "Donkey" walk into a pub and Fred gets the first pint in and says, "I'll have a pint for me and a pint for Donkey."
The two guys drink their pints and Fred says, "Right donkey your round; I'll have a pint of Guiness."



Donkey walks up to the bar and says, "2 p p p p pints of g g g g Guiness p p p please."



While donkey gets the pints, Fred goes to the toilet and the barman says, "Say, you shouldn't let him call you that stupid nickname."
Donkey replies, "I know. He aw.. he aww... he awwwwww, he always calls me 'Donkey.'"

 

Don't get it...

 

I'm pickin' and grinnin'