Change of station
Dudes! This blog is about to change, well… okay not change per se… will change in the fact that it will be updated regularly with more words and photographs and the like! I have been lacking in the last few months due to work becoming hectic and life becoming hectic and generally getting bogged down with stuff. So I have decided to cut away from it all once a week, get on my motorcycle and head out into the world (while the summer lasts). The premise is to not go anywhere I’ve been before, I’m gonna pick random destinations I can get to and back before bedtime, stopping along the way to take some photographs and enjoy something to eat and perhaps something to drink too. Not sure what format this new adventure-blog is gonna take, or even that it will be an adventure… Scratch that, life’s a fuckin adventure, if you endeavour to make it one. In years gone by when I was with a motorcycle club in the city, a few of us decided that we were sick of just riding out en mass to visit another club, or a rally or a charity event… so once a week we would take to the road; leaving normally half the club behind us who either didn’t fancy a ride or were just too interested in finding the bottom of their glass at the clubhouse. The Road Captain (an elected officer who would normally plan routes, lead ride outs, give someone a bollocking when they were riding like a twat or their bike was falling apart) would sit at the back of the back (yeah, behind the prospects too) and whoever fancied it would ride up front and take us all somewhere random… sometimes it was to a pub they knew, out in the sticks. Sometimes it was just miles and miles in one direction with no clue where they were going. Then we’d stop at a pub or the like, sit around chatting shit with a pint, smoking and laughing as the sun started sinking… then someone else would lead us back to base (sometimes Rem – the Road Captain – as he was the only one who knew the way). It was a brilliant idea but slowly and surely people dropped out and we found ourselves back in old habits. So my challenge to myself is to relive those aimless rides into the South West of England and try to capture the same feeling I had back then, without the sound of a dozen other bikes in my ears and a patch on my waistcoat. I’ll leave you in quaking suspense (I am sure) and will hopefully have something up by the weekends (gods allowing). Peace, out. x
