Well, that was nice. Bimbled over to Brands Hatch with a few mates because the weather forecasters had got it spectacularly wrong and instead of the pissing rain promised we had quite a lot of sun - a bit chilly, though. Watched a damn good day's racing. High point 1 - the 125cc race. The youngest riders are 13 or 14 so have (a) no fear and (b) a slight lack of experience. They were firing themselves into the scenery all over the place. Two actually managed to crash on the start/finish straight - how, I have no idea. Collision, I assume. High point 2 - the Superstocks race (or whatever they call it - lots of plastic bikes with Ar Ar Ar in the decals). We were watching at Clearways, and one went down, then another, and then two had a coming together in mid-apex and went into the kitty litter. Both riders jumped up, started trying to punch each other's lights out, and had to be pulled apart by the marshals. Excellent entertainment. High point 3 - that Jap, wossisname. Quick, isn't he? High point 4 - pulling up behind my mate's Matchless G9[1] and watching, utterly bewitched, as the *tail light* leaked oil. Honest. I thought I was imagining it, but no: drip, drip, drip. Turns out he's routed the engine breather to exit by the number plate, and oil mist finds its way into the rear light..... and then out. Had a nice picnic lunch, mooched around the stalls, contemplated buying an unbranded Pakistan-made set of two-piece leathers for 99 quid, but decided it probably wouldn't have been a good buy. For anyone who's never been to a race meeting, I'd say go. Give it a try. On a nice day, it's an utterly ace way of spending a Bank Holiday. [1] Some horrible 500cc ShiteOldBritBike[2] [2] But the picnic basket fastened to the carrier in place of a top box is a lovely touch.
