It’s that time of year again, no not sorting out the BAS payment, that’s all organized. I mean it’s time to fob off customers and actually work on my own bike for a change.
It’s been a scary week, I missed Harrow last year because my missus was crook and now this year she’s been crook all week again.
Luckily she’s not too bad so I need to make my escape as early as possible before she does get really crook again. “Sorry love, must have been in a bad reception area and I didn’t get your call that you needed me”
All is good though, she told me it was okay to go away for the weekend, although she seemed to get here words mixed up a bit, she said I could bloody well go to Hell. It must be because she hasn’t been well that she said Hell instead of Harrow? Or maybe it was a reference to the folklore tales of past Harrow events?
Whatever, I’m off
Got the bike all ready today and started loading up. It was a bit unsettling loading up as it’s been a slow drizzle all day long but it hasn’t fazed me. I just want to be part of the legendary Harrow experience.
I want to experience the fabled creek crossings that would have me believe that in previous years the river was capable of washing cars downstream.
I want to experience the endless Welsh like mudbogs that would trap innocent riders just like the Dinosaurs were trapped (even though you could actually ride around them).
I want to see for myself these famous bridges across raging torrents that are made of matchsticks or the slippery wooden planks just under the surface of the water that would trap the unwary.
But more than anything I want to be able to make up my own tales of hardship and how I conquered the terrain of Harrow
See you there.
