Issue 21

Something Old, Something New

On pulling into the pits there was no doubt I was at an event of significant magnitude. It was stacked out and looked like a cross between a car boot sale and a Hells Angles convention in downtown LA. There was colour, but it was smothered by a blanket of old bike fumes, mostly Castrol R and the smell of leather and burning oil filled the air. Welcome to the Red Marley Freak Hill climb. I parked up and assessed the situation. My god what a scene. The guys parked next to me had stopped off on the way and dragged their bikes out of a skip, I’m sure of it. They had long hair and one even had what looked like a handlebar moustache. Both them and their bikes looked like they were in Victorian times. Had I mysteriously gone through a time tunnel when driving through the trees on the way in? Everywhere I looked there were men that should know better and women who deserve better. I guess that isn’t the case though otherwise they wouldn’t have been there, they obviously knew something I didn’t. This is a full on family day out. Shall we go the Granny’s this weekend? Or shall we grab Granny, plonk her in a deck chair at the side of a hill with a Thermos and triangular cut sandwiches and have the thunder of handmade motorcycles roar by her covering her in dust? Yeah let’s do that, that’s much more fun. There was a feeling that reminded me of my times at the Isle of Wight festival. Everyone looked happy, it all felt care free like nothing really mattered. I basked in that. It was something I needed as life had been getting all too stressful at that point. It was a memorable experience and one you can share on page 76. The nostalgia of the Red Marley Freak Hill climb was replaced with the fresh taste of the new Elite Cup schoolboy championship a few weeks later (page 86). A completely different generation and style yet exactly the same. Both were fun to be at, both were well organised and both warrant being documented, after all this game is meant to be fun isn’t it? This month has definitely been a case of something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. Something borrowed came in the form of a Triumph Matisse, kindly offered up by Sam Griffiths for me to ride to the sun at Red Marley. Thanks Sam and thanks to all the people who have made this month a memorable one. If you’re wondering what was blue, well that’s been my colourful language as we go to print! This magazine is dedicated to Matt Jones and Anthony Pearson. Ride on lads, ride on.

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