Dirty leathers

If you take the long way home twice in a twenty minute journey, it must be a good thing, right?

Delighted to be able to make it back to the regional bike night up here in the wilds, on my own wheels and under my own steam for the first time in a couple of years. Usual malarky, if you're a bikey sort of person. Lots of burgers, people, bikes to see, youngsters on motocrossers displaying and all that khaki jazz. Good stuff. Popped into the Blue Bell for a half of Old Pec (lurve that dangerous stuff, but more than a half of anything and riding, well they mix not), they had a decent rock tribute act on and I could have stayed there all night, but things to see etc. Would have asked the two lady plods who'd covered their cap badges with smiley face stickers for a picture, but the moment passed in a flash, and anyway, I had things to do which involved an osterich burger - low in cholesteral and not in taste, so all is well there. Anyway, the bike's the star and had a most pleasant bimble there and back again - the fast road on the way there (something burning just where I took that nuke picture the other night, but not sure what, didn't take time to stop), and enjoyed the twisties on the way back. So, when the twisties ran out, and I should have joined the dual carriage way, I decided to take the scenic route, well out of my way; and when it came time to turn off to find my street, I thought "naaaah", and headed off for another two mile diversion and just another couple of minutes in the saddle. And surely, isn't that what it's supposed to be about?

Days?

Is it Monday today? I'm disorientated again. It's the ten day stretch again, even though I took a day off on Friday, today feels like Sunday for some reason. Hey ho. Anyways up, got myself a civilised shift in the fun factory at half eleven which is even weirder. My body clock is totally mashed. Waaaaaaah!!!

Perfect

If they made a camera that could properly capture this sunset, I'd be a happy man. If I could have found somewhere to stop and grab this image ten minutes earlier when the sky was lit up like a great big fruit dessert, I'd have been happier. Incredible colours.

Or did somebody just nuke Scunthorpe?

A bad day...

... at the base beats a good day at work. That's a geek cliche. But let's add it up; two days at the range and an evening of perfect light at TyphoonHome, with bugger all moving at any of them except the grass. That's a lot of petrol burnt, as Hermann's not shy of shouting "feed me, Seymour" when it comes to the petrol consumption stakes. Worth it though. If nothing else, it's done my tan good, and it's good to get out and smell the breeze.