terça-feira, 20 de maio de 2008
My grand father must of been the image of a racer with is flat cap turned around, peak to the rear, mind you everyone does the same now with base ball caps, zooming down Hockley hill bank and trying hard not to get the bicycle wheels of his 3 wheeler Morgan, stuck in the tram lines, it is clear Edinburgh Council will have forgotten the problems of bicycles and trams, only the older members can have this pleasure. This vision of the Pimpernel, normally green and not red, was my idea of heaven and at college I only had the loan of my brothers Lambretta,
which to be frank was good for getting around but did not assist in the conquest of women, however after marrying Jacky in June 1970 I got to hear about an old chap that had a Morgan 3 wheeler in his garage in Exeter, went to see him and got on famously with the dear fellow, too much as it tured out because I found myself going to see him every week as a social service operator and not having any chance of getting my hands on the car, I abandoned the idea after numerous trips and a friend sold me his 1949 BSA, with this I was able to join the convoys of Hell's Angels without getting skinned alive and later I bought a 1973 Norton Commando, ex TT so that was me for speed.
In 1981 I sold my last motor bike, 1000 cc BMW tourer, it gave my mother a rest from worrying, since my brothers, well two of them had bad accidents in the past on bikes, although I was free from the same accident prone keeping my time for 1986, 4th July,Independence Day when I managed to cut off a thumb and index finger on my right hand. I only told my mother two years later when she was threatening to make some gloves for me and it seemed a good time to kill two birds with the single stone, better than David did, strangley enough she said o Stuart and then said it ran in the family withseveral uncles doing the same.