Brands Indy

Well it was back to Brands for the latest instalment of the ultimate reality show "Big Celebrity Come Racing Island". I arrived for the auditions at 4:30 and was directed to the already long queue of hopefuls. Trying out for the "Butch Aussie Lifeguard" was our very own Rangi. Sadly in Speedos and goggles he looked more like a myopic Wombat and should prepare himself for the news that he may not get the part. Matty Moore was obviously trying to land the part of the token Gay, wandering around stripped to what would once, several thousand lagers back, have been a waist. I decided to try out for the part of the "Moody, streetwise biker hunk from the wrong side of the tracks" I was even prepared to do my own stunts, but a misunderstanding ensued. The casting director said "My it's hot". I thought he said "Money Shot" and duly complied. The things you have to do to get into Show business. So I only landed the part of an extra in the crowd scene, a.k.a. the start.

Friday rehearsals went smoothly enough with only a fork swop required. My "new" forks ate a pair of seals thanks to some pitting on the legs. Len came to the rescue and lent me his spare pair which worked a treat. Small Paul, who is to the YPM what Yoda is to the Jedi, checked my forks over and dotted the minute pits he said were at fault "Pitted they are, seals fail then". By the time he was done they looked like they had black measels. Looks like I may need to get them re-chromed or get a new pair of tubes.

While Fish was running in his new motor I got a loan of his lap timer and was surprised to find myself pussying round and still doing 1:02's dropping to a 1:00 after chasing Pastry round for a couple of laps on the last morning session. I ran out for the first session after lunch to test Len's forks out. Once that was done I was thinking of coming in when Fish came past on Clearways doing what is best described as the Asda Price "Gesture". Turns out he meant me to follow him, which I had every intention of doing. It was neck and neck stuff, no quarter asked or given all the way to Paddock where, alas, the drag from the "Pink Tutu of Shame" allowed him to get away.

Sat morning was pleasantly cool and overcast, but the sun didnt take long to burn off the clouds, and while not as warm as friday it was still more "Cold beer by the pool" than "Lets put on leathers and race bikes" type weather. Practice and qualifying meant a first race time of 11 so there was at least time to relax in the shade with a cup of coffee. Out of all who wandered by on Sat morning, only the Colonel was Hamster enough to have a cup. Even Bally declined, tho' his psyche was already under pressure from both 'Rab' and myself. 'Rab' a.k.a. Chris Rankin is the latest signing to team NoBra. I say signing, it remains to be seen that any of them can use, or are at least safe with anything more than a blunt crayon. He is a fellow Scot and from the same corner of Scotland, a place where Banjo's and rockin chairs are as popular as strangers are not. Seems that by lapsing into the colloquial affirmative we were driving Bally up the wall. John 'Jock' Walker, hardcore racer, turned up on Sunday and I did think about heading round to find Rab n Bally so we three could do a Python pastiche with "The Knights who say 'Aye'".

>Race one and my usual naff start I settled down to chase Rab but he managed to lose me in traffic. While he effortlessly carves his way through I kept waiting till I could make clean pass. I did get by a couple out of clearways but by then Rab was well away. Race two was more of the same but with a novel twist. Into Surtees I had Paul Robson, I think it was him, lined up for a pass into Clearways. So fixated on where he was going was I, that when he headed off toward the greenery I followed him. It took me a second to realise that this was not a recognised line before hauling on the anchors and re-joining from the exit road. I should have just kept going across the grass. Still I set a new PB of 59.1, a full three quarters of a second up on last year and had me looking to manage a 58 on Sunday.

A special BOTG brass plated door knocker to Nick Griggs who dragged his hairy old pair round in a 56.8 taking a full second and more of his own PB. Makes you wonder what he has been confiscating from the kids on his beat, other than their dinner money. I have long been in favour of random drug tetsing in the YPM. Anyone not under the influence to be disqualified immediately.

Purple Pete did a turn on the barbie Saturday night and afterwards we headed over to sing "Happy Birthday" to Doug "Wolfman" Howell who turned 40 at the weekend. Many Happy BOTG returns to Doug. It was at this time that I made a poor decision, and it had nothing to do with alcohol. In a fit of generosity I told Purple he could crash in my van. His Tranny was being used by Mallory and Kenny who gave me fair warning that I should get to sleep before their Dad. Alas it was not to be, faster than he laps Brands he was asleep. I could tell he was asleep from the noise, it sounded like someone had taken the pipes off a tzr and was revving it. My only chance to get to sleep was in the 20 minute lulls, presumably re-fuelling, before it all kicked off again. At one point he ceased abruptly in mid snore and I thought he had croaked. I did think of checking his pulse but considered that walking up in the middle of the night to find me holding his hand would require a fair bit of explanation. However, it was only a brief pause before the sonic assault began again. Sunday morning was definitely a two cup deal.

Race one Sunday was red flagged after Dan found out his new Superman underpants were no match for the kryptonite dust at clearways. It was a spectacular highside by all accounts with Dan landing on his head, so no danger of soft tissue damage then. Hope you are feeling better Dan and will be out to play again soon. The restart was livened up by Adam Cole and Matty Moore who decided to adandon racing and perform a spontaneous tarmac Tango. All things considered a good weekend. Not what I'd hoped for at the start of the year, but I'm back to my old form and enjoying my racing. I wont be out at Pembury, its in Wales and I'm boycotting all things Welsh till Bonnie Tyler starts answering my letters. OK so she's no spring chicken now, but neither am I. It would tho give me a chance to wear my "I'm the only Motor Cycle Racer in the Village" T-shirt. So I'll see you all at Brands for the GP meet.

This is George Watson for Back O' the Grid having my bits straightened and re-chromed.

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