My poor wee Triumph, she didn't know what she was signin up for on the day I bought her. I'm a bit of a pillock, I'll only be gone for an hour or two turns into three or four days at the drop of hat. Hmmm, sue me, f*** off. Can't help it, I'm a UK resident and damn, this country is so so small. I see Sandi_T's write ups and I'm so jealous, I don't mean that candidily, I'm really jealous. All that open country, all that tarmac, all that ridable weather, bugger. So my poor wee Triumph knows that when we set off early doors in the morning that she got a long way to go before we rest, does she complain ? Nope, trrup trrrup, and she settles to a tickover, we head out and the wind hits me in the face, I take a geet big snort through the bulbous nostrils that now occupy half my face. Hmm, spent fuels, damp tarmac and the promise of something else... Damn, those roads across the North York Moors early in the morning, totally empty. And as the sun rises the mist comes sloping up out of the valleys untill you seem to be riding above a blanket of silver fog, then you pull up to take a breather and then all is silent. Has to be said, it's fantastic. So I swing a leg back over my new/old triumph and she clatters back into a steady burble through the Vickers open pipes and I spend a moment just listening to her... Damn guys, how long do us old petrol heads have left ? To hear that quick roar steadying to a settled burble, quick look over our shoulder and then floating off down to sharp left that we know we can get round without putting the pegs down... The worlds changin, but I don't think I'm ready for it...
