It all started Wednesday, Neil and I stayed back at the shop to finish up everything we could on the Shovel just in case Stig would be done in time! We ate Pizza, drank Red Bull and Soldered, Tightened, Double and Triple checked everything. I got a call from Stig about 7:45pm that night telling me he was 90% sure my paint would be ready to go if I rolled up first thing Friday morning.
Friday morning came and I arrived an hour early at Sickboyz cause I wouldn't listen to my Wife about the traffic. Anyways Stig arrived and finished up polishing, wrapped it all up and I was good to go. Epsom to Guildford in 30 mins flat!!
I had a train to catch so from the moment I arrived Neil and I hit it. All the prep work we had done Wednesday paid dividends, that bike was together fast!! One Kick, Boom! I rolled her into the parking lot and before I could get my lid on to go fuel her up.... Oil everywhere! turns out she was a little full and it was all pissing out of the top of the oil tank. seat off (fucking ball ache) oil drained, filter cleaned, Seat back on (even more of a ball ache) and its ready to go again.
Literally round the corner, Ping!! side stand spring snaps in the fuel station... "come on man, cut me some fucking slack, I know its Friday the 13th but jeez" push her back round to the shop. new spring. job done, we roll...
Lloyd and I hooked up with Tom when we got to the tunnel, having ridden from Guildford, No issues I started to relax a little. The bike ran sweet all weekend, 400 miles of good times with two of my good buddies. This is what its all bout right! damn right!!
Those good times rolled all weekend, I talked with old friends, made new ones, the beer kept flowing. right on!! Riding and roaming, no particular plan, Ghent for Lunch, some little café, hot waitress, great coffee, broken English. Spots of rain, fucking cold wind, breaks of hot sun. More food, more beer, which way is up.
Its Sunday already, what the fuck happened there. Pack up, roll out. its 08:45am, I'm too cold and hung-over to realise. Hit the road, gone to far. Shit that's the coast. Where are we, Knokke-Heist, its 11am, lets get Breakfast, Sea front café, more coffee, ham & cheese, another hot waitress, roll out. Cloudy, cold but open and clear. these are the rides of our lives. Suns out, blinding bright, smile like a dickhead, were in the groove now.
Fuel and ride, fuel and ride... suns still shining, through the tunnel and on to blighty. Kent, Surrey and into Hampshire, all's good. we made it, cold beer, Chinese food. work tomorrow...