Lydden

Well I arrived at Lydden full of expectation after a brilliant practice session the previous Friday. The last session turned into a bit of a play with Den Grant. It was Sheen Vs Roberts till Rangi turned up as Mick Doohan. More accurately Mick Doohans evil, pie munching twin. Practice, however, is just that, its not racing. I should have spent the intervening week doing some thorough preparation. Instead I got back to Ipswich that night and over an "Afterburner" or three I rehearsed my podium speech. Now down to a manageable 2 and a half hours.

Meantime back on planet Earth I beamed down to Lydden, setting up ground control in the "Hamsters Cage". So, race 2 Sat. 18th on the grid, the light went out I went "Goooo!" the bike went "Blaaahh". So I hooked it back up and tried again and made a desperate dive into Cheesons and tried to go round the outside of Liam. He had made the elementary mistake of taping the circuit guide upside down on his tank. It looked like he was following the advice I had given to Master Shorthouse and Monkey Boy i.e the first turn was a flat out left hander. Both had seen through this transparent ploy. tho Monkey boy did have to look at his shoes to see which one had the "L" on it. As luck would have it he managed to get them on the correct feet. Most of the race I tussled with Adam Cole and managed to get past only to be in turn passed by Ian Denny who I chased to the line. 20 more laps I'd have had him, I had the gas for it after Snett.

I still claimed my best ever dry finish with 11th place, 4 points, and a place in the A final. I made a better start and from 22nd on the grid finished 22nd. That should be a cue for a joke, instead I'd like to quash a scurrilous rumour. Yes I gave "Big Bird" one. The "one" however, was a chocolate orange, a thank you to her and the assembly area marshalls and not a blatant attempt to bribe my way up the grid ,,,,, honest.

Sat. night was payback time, and yes it is a bitch, when I fell victim to my own hospitality and had a drink or two more than was good for me. I did intend only to have a sensation or two to keep out the chill, but led cruelly astray by Purple Pete the rest is history an a couple of empty bottles of bourbon. I had the feeling Sunday was not going to be my day when I woke up with my tongue stuck to the pillow. Thankfully I had until 1 to recover. Race 2 started badly and got worse so I pulled off.

Small Paul, mechanic to the stars and the Colonel checked over my carbs. In tones reserved for small children and domestic pets he pointed out the condition of my pilot jets. They looked like a set of Scottish coronary arteries. Suitably cleaned this transformed my starting and from row 2 of the B final I was third by the top hairpin. I dont know who it was but I did dive up the inside of someone into pilgrims only to drift wide taking them with me to the outside. I did stick my hand up by way of apology. This is a point of track etiquette not universally practised it seems.

Back into Cheesons I went for the brakes and the front end dived so hard I though the brakes had seized on, I had swopped out the m/c after probs on Sat. I wonder now if I didn't hit something. I ran wide and the world streamed past, with no confidence in my brakes I trawled around and finished 7th. I have now ordered a new master cylinder and will completely o/haul my brakes for Brands.

So the Hamster Circus rolls on to Brands. Mentions in despatches to Daz, who made a terrific effort to get our bumper/club stickers for Lydden. Purple Pete for his work on the renta so Matt could get out for a play and Tyler "Streaky" Bacon for a sixth place in Sundays A final. This is George Watson, For Back O the Grid and packing nothing stronger than Horlicks for Brands - see you all there.

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