... This month's ramblings start off on a serious note. I was asked to be a guest at a fund raising evening in Shropshire. Me and Mick Grant would be interviewed on stage by Charlie Williams (a multiple TT winner) and proceeds would be split between the Isle of Man helicopter fund and a private children's hospice called Hope House. The bloke behind the night, Phil, was keen on us going to Hope House to meet the staff and some of the kids. I've been to a hospice before and was prepared for it but this place was different. Every wall was covered with bright pictures and everyone we spoke to were upbeat and positive. It was hard to believe most of them wouldn't be around much longer. It makes all your problems seem trivial. The evening was a sell out and I'm proud to say we raised about two grand for each charity.
... On a lighter note, me and the wife went to a friend's 40th birthday bash. The party had a 'school disco' theme. Call me old fashioned but I enjoy seeing 150 drunk, middle aged, people jumping around in shorts or mini skirts and suspenders. We spent most of the night with the Fogartys. Michaela and Andrea never need much of an excuse to let their hair down but it was good to see Carl on the rev limiter. He had such a good time he didn't even mind when we piled back to his house and plundered his beer fridge.
... A few days later I realised I'd left my camera at his house and came up with a silly idea to get it back. Instead of driving the 40 or so miles to Carl's place, I decided to pedal over on my bicycle. On reflection, this was a mistake. By the time I reached his house I was knackered, and the 'seat' had removed most of the skin from my arse. Worse than that, there was nobody in, so I couldn't even have a brew. Carl had left the camera in an Asda bag at the end of his drive. I thought about getting a taxi back but only had a tenner on me. The ride home was hard work and bloody painful. I'll not be doing that again any time soon!
... The 1000 sportsbike test to Majorca (p52) was a giggle. Seeing what these machines are like on the road has more relevance because most sportsbikes never go anywhere near a track. But the whole test could've so easily gone hideously wrong. We were making good time until Jon hit some deep standing water and the Blade aquaplaned from under him at over 100mph. As he and the bike are skimming independently along the outside lane with spray coming off his heels I'm thinking, 'this test is over', I'm thinking, 'ambulances', I'm thinking, 'statements to the police'... But no, after doing 250 yards on his arse he comes to a halt, picks himself up, walks 30 yards to the bike, picks it up, looks at it, jumps on it, hits the starter and rides off, to the amazement of 150 Froggy car drivers, most of whom are now in shock. Respect for Jon, who was adamant we continue without even needing so much as a cup of sweet tea, and also to the Fireblade that was straight and rideable. It was a wake-up call to us all, and reminded me that even though bikes are the coolest, most fun things you can buy, modern bikes demand your full attention and respect. Then again, that's part of their appeal!
