Sunday Blatt

The Start

Only the second Sunday blatt this year!

What with one thing & another, I've been a bit remiss with the Sunday drives this year & what with one thing and another I nearly didn't do this one. I was tromping along at a goodly rate on my way to the amusingly names Pease Pottage services when I came up behind a vintage something-or-other & realised the Fury wasn't slowing down. An experimental dab on the brakes slowed it - then it speeded up again.

This was not good.

I found somewhere to pull over, dropped the clutch & switched off the ignition. I jumped out (only a couple of minutes to spare before the departure time) & found a screw had unscrewed itself from the throttle linkage & was jamming the cable quadrant. Fortunately I had some tools with me so it was an easy fix. Just before I arrived at the meet point I passed a group of yanks & hotrods, the leading three of which were 100e Anglias (possibly Pops), they were all obviously tuned but tatty - in the current "rad rod" style. As I passed the leading one on a dual carriageway I heard the unmistakeable rumble of a large V8 as the driver stamped on the throttle. I stamped on mine too & the 100e stayed very definitely behind me.


The Middle

I arrived just after the "we'll DEFINEATLY be leaving at" time to find that not only were the cars still there, but the owners were still loitering about casually, but soon enough we all headed out.

The roads were pretty good, but we were unlucky with the traffic, getting stuck behind supermarket delivery vans & a sess-pit emptying truck. When we're in Scotland or France, folk driving slower things pull in to allow us to pass - not in the south east. Add to that the current trend for spending Sunday mornings dressed entirely in lycra & riding £8000 worth of ill-fitting carbon fibre at least 4feet from any curb (but I'm not bitter). When I did cycling properly, I had a bike custom made for me for a fraction of the price & to ride on the road I had wheels with a decent amount of strength so I could ride safely about a foot to 18" from the curb without irritating other road users or risking a shattered wheel (and, BREEEAAATH).



The End

Rant over.

These minor irritations did not spoil my enjoyment, & soon enough we were tucking into a sett of full English breakfasts & enjoying some first rate banter - which it what it's all about.