Several weeks ago, I arranged to meet someone from the Dark Side, in Matlock, midweek and at about 10 a.m for a coffee and a days bimbling around the Peak District. Steady ride there from Sheffield due to the fog on the tops and fine drizzle, but nowt to worry about. met up with the Dark Sider at 10.00, had a coffee and then another coffee, then stepped outside to examine the drizzle closer and also give a prognosis on the cloud structure.....then went back in and had a tea. Talked some bollox and then decided, as the drizzle had become gentle rain, that I'd have a full English breakfast with a mug of tea. My mate had a coffee. After breakfast we got ourselves a mug of coffee and went and sat outside at the tables for some fresh air and because the rain was fading. Talked some more bollox and then someone on a GS 1200 turned up on his way east over the Pennines from Manchester. Talked some fresh bollox and then waved him away as he had to get down south somewhere. After waving him off we retired into the café and ordered teas. We were by now getting rather full as the good people in Costas of Matlock insist on putting a big cube of proper fudge on ya saucer with every drink. ...The above scenario was re-enacted for the next 4 hours as the weather waxed and waned....Finally, at about 4.00 p.m. and after 6 hours of high mileage bollix, tea and coffee drinking, with exhaustion setting in, we decided that after such a full day it was finally time to head off to our respective homes.
Total mileage in an 8 hour rideout?.....about 30 fookin miles all in and I wasn't bothered one jot.
Fast forward to today....a late night conversation with the Sherrif of Nottingham meant an early rise in readiness for a rideout to the eastern Dales this morning. Up at 6, sarnies and flask packed. Bike gear on bar jacket, paper fetched from the shop and headlines read. Another tea and then a text saying it was pissing down in the Midlands and to give it an hours delay and see wht the weatehr's like then. O.K. says I. After falling asleep on the settee and waking about 9, I txted the Sherrif to see if the weather had improved down there. "No, has it fook as like". "No matter " syas I, thinking, I'll just fekk off for the day by messen. But I'll just have a cup of tea first. Then a piece of cake and another tea. Then my bowels started moving so it was time for a shite and I'll take the sports section as there's no rush...and then I'll get off. By 12.00 I was dekitted, scruffy clothes on and sat in the garage listening to Planet Rock and tinkering with the Bird cos I just couldn't be arsed. Too late to go up to the Dales, so I thought I'd leave it until this afternoon and have a shorter bimble around the Peaks. Then I heard Rocket Jockeys nailing it in first down the A57 and thought fekk it I'll polish me Bird footrest hangers.
....and that's it...another opportunity to ride which I didn't take. So, have I lost my riding Mojo or will it come back? If it doesn't come back what the fook am I going to do with myself?
