My big fat Manx adventure (long)

Well, I am no longer an Isle of Mann virgin. Following a mention from Eddie
and a surprising agreement from my wife I headed out there this weekend to
help Champ and his posse out wherever I could with the Jurby endurance race.

On the ferry Eddie and I were lucky enough to meet up with Andy 'Bomber'
Bonwick, who immediately called us puffs because we'd stopped to buy a paper
rather than going immediately to the bar. This pretty much set the tone for
the weekend, really. Well, that and the drinking which followed.

Bonwick, showing off his new Manx SIM card, arranged for Champ to meet the
ferry in Douglas and lead us round the circuit to our accommodation in
Ramsey. Champ had borrowed a full TT race spec CBR600 for the occasion,
Bonwick was on his specially lightened and tuned Beemer and Eddie had his 9R
.... which has always been a quick bike. I was stuck with the Prilly,
earning it's touring spurs, but unfortunately so loaded with winter coats,
waterproofs, sweaters, woolly hats and scarves that it was weighing
somewhere in the region of seven or eight hundred kilograms. That at I
think I heard one of the pistons drop out when I was getting off the ferry.
Apparently that can happen.

So, as you may have guessed, the other three shot off, while I made the
informed decision to hang back a little and breathe in the sights of the
Island, as it was my first time.

As I'm a good guy I've put together a small montage of some of the points of
interest that I know the other chaps just didn't see ...

http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d132/zx6r2000/IoMmontage.jpg

Anyway, eight hours later, when I reached Ramsey, Champ took us all to
Keith's place where we were being fed (what a nice chap) and then to our
digs for the weekend - a lovely flat owned by a charming and intelligent
girl who, inexplicably, trusts Champ enough to let two complete strangers
sleep on her floor just on his say so.

After that, however, there was serious business to attend to; Manx law
requires that visitors to the island are certifiably drunk within 3 hours of
arriving and thanks to my epic lap we were running close to a public
birching (although Champ didn't seem to mind too much), so it was back to
Keith's place to get as much wine down our necks as possible while Keith
tried to distract us with food and conversation.

Champ was taking it easy, as he had to race the next morning and, as the
hour that everybody else had to be up and functioning at got push closer and
closer to the time we were planning to stop drinking at we all called it a
night.

The alarm the next morning awoke me to this view ...

http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d132/zx6r2000/SundaymorninginRamsey.jpg

.... and we were up and dressed and out just as the first locals were
sacrificing chickens to the previously unseen big orange fire-god who was
coming from the skies.

BTW, all photos come from my camera phone and I've been to the Paul
Carmichael school of photography. However after this weekend I have no piss
left to take. Sorry.

Champ was on driving duty and, I must say, if you've never been the wrong
way round the top end of the TT circuit, packed in to a knackered Fiat
estate, driven at a constant 80mph by a fuckwit who constantly complains
that it isn't handling properly then you really, really should leave things
that way.

If you do end up in such a situation - twice in one day - then maybe, unlike
me, you'll at least remember to put your seatbelt on in at least one
direction.

In spite of Champ's driving we made it to Jurby - a community soon to be
revitalised by a vibrant new custom built accommodation development which
will, one presumes, mean significantly less travelling for a lot of Jurby
residents.

At the circuit Eddie and I signed up as marshals, along with our new best
friend, Fozzy and were exiled to "Post 3". You only have to look at a map
to see that the Isle of Mann is already a strong runner for the "middle of
nowhere" cup and Jurby isn't exactly the throbbing heart of the island and
the circuit is worse ...

http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d132/zx6r2000/jurbyjurby.jpg

These are the kinds of people attracted to such places, for fucks sake ...

http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d132/zx6r2000/jurbyfuckwits.jpg

Note that Bonwick, getting in to the Jurby spirit, has already had the
wheels off some other fucker's bike and is now rolling himself a celebratory
borstal cigar.

Post 3, as it turned out, was handily situation for watching all of the
pit-lane action

http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d132/zx6r2000/jurbypitlane.jpg

(Pit-lane action shown actual size)

Our close neighbours on Post 4 declined our offer to come over for a couple
of bottles of wine and a game of Trivial Pursuits and, instead, sat in a row
just where anybody low-siding it on there corner would take them down like
skittles.

http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d132/zx6r2000/jurbypost4.jpg

We were, of course, closer to the action than the heaving crowd ...

http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d132/zx6r2000/jurbycrowd.jpg

.... so close in fact that in this photo of Eddie we can see the circuit.

http://i34.photobucket.com/albums/d132/zx6r2000/jurbyeddie.jpg

The chain of fence posts lying on the floor behind him are a kerb and were
all that was between him and nutters on race bikes who were going as fast as
they could towards the apex ... which is basically where he was stood.

It turned out that manning a post takes three people. One to know what
they're doing and hold the radio, which was Fozzy's job, one to wave flags
and one to stand around wearing industrial gloves and day-dream about
big-titted women. It was planned that Eddie and I would alternate between
the last 2 jobs, until it was revealed that I was born without the genetic
ability to wave a flag ("What *are* you good at?" was Champ's oft repeated
question to me over the weekend. He never got an answer).

Then some racing happened and we watched the same bikes go past us about 115
times each. Off in the distance people sometimes crashed, but we saw next
to no action. Somebody did coast in to our post with a blown engine, but we
couldn't quite fill 7.5 hours with chat about that. We did do better than
our stand-offish neighbours on Post 4 whose only action all day was a rider
who pulled in because he'd just puked in his helmet and wanted to scrape the
chunks out.

Beyond that I'll let Champ, or somebody who was following the race, fill you
in on the details. Champ was faster than Keith though. I know this because
when Champ came past us he was normally in front of the bike he'd been
following the previous lap, whereas, with Keith, it tended to be the other
way round. I don't know much about racing, but I do know that if Keith ever
finds out that I've said that he'll kick my fucking head in.

The racing finished by 6, making way for the main event - beer and curry.
It was great fun to be out with Champ, who wouldn't let me buy drinks, and
Bonwick, who wouldn't let me leave. Needless to say we got home
depressingly close to the time we had to leave the island, which was also
the time which the combined weather mojos of Champ and myself burnt out and
allowed the island to return to what I believe is it's more usual October
fare.

Certainly by the time Eddie and I set off over the mountain towards Douglas
this morning we, almost literally, couldn't see our hands in front of our
faces. This was my first time on the mountain road, completing the lap that
I'd started on Saturday evening, so I now know that the road is a long
string of 1st gear/20mph corners connected by 1st gear/20mph straights.

When we got to Douglas (dry, no fog) Eddie pulled in to show me the
start/finish straight and, by good luck, departed this information before I
had the chance to ask him the world's biggest YTC question and, thus, my lap
was completed ... at, near as dammit, 1mph. I hope to make at least a 50%
improvement on this next time I visit the Island. And visit it again I
shall. It's such a wonderful, wonderful place that I'll always be happy to
be the bloke wearing the heavy gloves and thinking about norks if it gives
me an excuse to visit.

My weekend ended with a cross-country run from Heysham to Northumberland,
where I pushed my bike a bit harder and Eddie, on the 9R, caught up on some
sleep. As I was getting off the bike at home the paving stone that the
side-stand was resting on suddenly crumbled and the bike *so* nearly went
over. It was only prevented by the sheer force of will I generated by
suddenly seeing how much Bonwick would take the piss if I dropped it.

So, a seriously big thank you to Champ for providing the opportunity,
setting up food and shelter and for doing his all to put me in a Fiat-shaped
coffin. Top stuff old bean.

--
AndrewR, D.Bot (Celeritas)
Aprilia RSV-1000R, Kawasaki ZX-6R, Fiat Coupe 20v Turbo
BOTAFOT#2,ITJWTFO#6,UKRMRM#1/13a,MCT#1,DFV#2,SKoGA#0 (and KotL)
BotToS#5,SBS#25,IbW#34, DS#5, COSOC# Suspended, KotTFSTR#
The speccy Geordie twat.

 

{ snip }

Sublime.

Welcome back.

D.

 

Hehehehe , very nice :0)

 

You've....never been on a ferry with UKRM before, have you?

Auntie Janice has had a sex change?

New Beerbus, or cunningly disguised Renault?

As far as the exercise yard and back, you mean?

Is this the same Keith I know?


I would have liked to have gone again and due to on-call jiggery-fuckery
over the Christmas period, I may have had enough leave after all, but I
made up for it with some ill-advised bike-buying activity. I trust you
drank the Traf dry.

 

This isn't 100% accurate. I went straight to the bar, couldn't find
them so headed for the soft drinks outlet were I found them lining up
nice cups of tea. They'll learn one day.

I reckon we waited for getting on towards 5 minutes before the slow
boy arrived. There can be no excuses because it was a lovely warm
evening and a 23 year old BMW K100 isn't exactly the best handling
bike around, nor the fastest.

Mr R responded rather favourably on Sunday evening when we were
discussing the ride back to Douglas and I pointed out that I'd be
taking it easy because it's be dark and my lights are good as the
suspension plus I'd have a passenger. He seemed to take offence
because he interpreted my comments as lining him up for more abuse
when he was soundly battered again.

I wasn't happy going over there this morning. I suspect that a mere 4
hours sleep had left me still a touch pissed from the previous nights
escapades. Fozzy helped a lot by pointing straight in front of us as
we started the mountain mile and telling me to gas it. Just about zero
visibility at this point...

I know that road pretty well but still had to go 'minesweeping a
couple of times to find the white line that was helping me avoid
visiting the sheep.

Aaah. Bikes falling over you say?

I managed to get my foot caught in the cover that Adie had stolen from
my BMW as I maneuvered past and all of a sudden her latest acquisition
was hugging the fence a bit too much for my liking. My choice here was
jump off the behemoth and let it completely wreck her bike or just get
past and try and salvage the situation. Failed. The Kawasaki needs a
new mirror, a new screen and the top fairing repairing.

I've fessed up and didn't even try to blame her for putting the bike
there in the first place.

 

I swear that I constantly expected the fog to reveal you and Fozzy heaving
the Beemer out of a ditch.

It seemed like a much more likely scenario than the alterative - that you
*hadn't* ridden like a twat.

There are sheep up there? If I'd know that I wouldn't have scaled the dizzy
heights of 20mph.

--
AndrewR, D.Bot (Celeritas)
Aprilia RSV-1000R, Kawasaki ZX-6R, Fiat Coupe 20v Turbo
BOTAFOT#2,ITJWTFO#6,UKRMRM#1/13a,MCT#1,DFV#2,SKoGA#0 (and KotL)
BotToS#5,SBS#25,IbW#34, DS#5, COSOC# Suspended, KotTFSTR#
The speccy Geordie twat.

 

<snip> well, lots

I've mist your prose, you really must get over for the other races, too
)


--
Lesley
CBR600FW
SBS#11 (with oak-leaf cluster)
BOTAFOT#101A UKRMHRC#12
BONY#54P BOB#18
Real burds don't take hormones, they rage naturally

 

I'm trying to think of a way to blag a fortnight across there for the GP
next year.

I suspect my chances are slim, but I'm going to have to go for it.

--
AndrewR, D.Bot (Celeritas)
Aprilia RSV-1000R, Kawasaki ZX-6R, Fiat Coupe 20v Turbo
BOTAFOT#2,ITJWTFO#6,UKRMRM#1/13a,MCT#1,DFV#2,SKoGA#0 (and KotL)
BotToS#5,SBS#25,IbW#34, DS#5, COSOC# Suspended, KotTFSTR#
The speccy Geordie twat.

 

Don't try to be too greedy, just go over on the Friday of practice
week and come home the following Saturday.

Stop thinking negatively.

 

Sorry, I lost count 3 hours and 48 minutes in. Fortunately it turned out
that somebody else had been counting as well. Phew.

Right about the racing or right about getting my head kicked in? Or both?

As Eddie either isn't around or is being a gent I'll give you a last laugh
and tell you about Douglas this morning.

Now bear in mind that I don't know the island and that I was following Eddie
blindly and that we hadn't planned to go anywhere other than the ferry
terminal.

As we came through Douglas Eddie pulled over and, as I followed him in, my
eyes fell upon a notice on the wall next to us which said something about
not refilling fueling rigs without permission of the marshals.

Eddie said, "This is the start/finish straight" *milliseconds* before I
could ask, "Is there a circuit here?"

He laughed when I told him. Quite a lot, really.

--
AndrewR, D.Bot (Celeritas)
Aprilia RSV-1000R, Kawasaki ZX-6R, Fiat Coupe 20v Turbo
BOTAFOT#2,ITJWTFO#6,UKRMRM#1/13a,MCT#1,DFV#2,SKoGA#0 (and KotL)
BotToS#5,SBS#25,IbW#34, DS#5, COSOC# Suspended, KotTFSTR#
The speccy Geordie twat.

 

<snip a truly amazing and amusing story>

MDR(*)

(*) French for LOL, ROTFLMAO, and all that sort of things.

 

She's quite pleased, as it saves her the ignominy of being unable to
get it off the centre-stand, a task which has been haunting her ever
since she left the country.

Although TBH I haven't seen her around much this evening...

<looks at watch>

****, how the hell did that happen?

<lurches across to hotel bed>

--
_______
..'_/_|_\_'. Ace (brucedotrogers a.t rochedotcom)
\`\ | /`/ DS#8 BOTAFOT#3 SbS#2 UKRMMA#13 DFV#8 SKA#2 IBB#10
`\\ | //'
`\|/`
`

 

Don't worry, they're not free-range sheep like you get over our way. At
least, they're not meant to be.

 

Seconded. I really must get over there more often than once every 5 years.

Although I didn't have a problem with Champ's driving: I didn't even
need to use the Jesus handle. (Of course, I know what's going to happen
next time I get in a car with him...)

 

that's troo

that's cos I felt shite and went to bed early rather than go out
drinking.
--
Adie
(replace spam with nickname to reply)

UKRM FAQ: http://www.ukrm.net/faq/
keeper of the ukrm faq for my sins

YZF-R1: ZX9R E1

MRO#11 BOTAFOF#7 BOTAFOT#130 DIAABTCOD#17 MIB#24 YTC#16 BOB#15 ex-UKRMMA#22 BOMB#11

 

AndrewR wrote:

<snip>

Lovely.

You have no idea.

 

But at least now you know I'm slow even as a passenger.

--
AndrewR, D.Bot (Celeritas)
Aprilia RSV-1000R, Kawasaki ZX-6R, Fiat Coupe 20v Turbo
BOTAFOT#2,ITJWTFO#6,UKRMRM#1/13a,MCT#1,DFV#2,SKoGA#0 (and KotL)
BotToS#5,SBS#25,IbW#34, DS#5, COSOC# Suspended, KotTFSTR#
The speccy Geordie twat.