Coming back from Derby early

Shittest ride I've ever experienced.

The day started quite badly when I dropped the B6 on Scraggy's foot at
the B&B when I took it off of the centre stand and after a good ride
out with him the day got worse.

During dinner at the Black Horse I got a call from home to say that my
father was unwell. Those of you that have met him will already know
that he's not in the best of health and after a four month stint in
hospital early last year due to a broken hip he now walks very slowly
with one of those zimmer frames with wheels. Him falling over isn't
an unheard of event, but almost eclipsing his dramatic 'let's fall
through a glass table' attempt last year he decided it best of fall on
a fense yesterday and cracked his head open.

He is due to have a pacemaker fitted tomorrow.

Mother works as his full time carer and is under a lot of stress
looking after him, especially as he's due to the operation tomorrow. I
didn't feel it appropriate to be 200 miles away from home last night
when I heard the news of his latest fall.

I do regret not staying at the Black Horse past the main course.

My journey home was peppered with crap from the wind blowing me off
course at motorway speeds because I'd filled my rucksack up
differently to the journey down the M1 being a total arse. "They" had
also closed the Dartford Crossing causing me to take an alternative
route on to the M20. They had also closed the M20 at junction 10
which meant I had to take the A20 home only to find that the road into
Saltwood from the A20 had 'no access past Sandling Station' meaning I
had to take a detour around Hythe to find a route in that was still
open.

When I finally arrived home at just before 1am I parked the Bandit in
some random way outside the house, took the masses of baggage off of
it and then dropped the white cover to the Garmin GPS power cable
somewhere on the road thought **** IT and decided I'd look for it
later on today before dropping my keys somewhere in the garden and
having to use a spare to get in.

Oh, then I dumped my stuff and went to the hospital.

SLEEP.

 

<snip>

Sympathies and all, but frankly I'm puzzled - what exactly did you
hope to achieve by dropping everything and running to be by his
bedside?

For that matter, what was your motivation in posting chapter anbd
verse here?

And in the best traditions: It's only a father, FFS.

--
_______
..'_/_|_\_'. Ace (brucedotrogers a.t rochedotcom)
\`\ | /`/ GSX-R1000K3 (slightly broken, currently missing)
`\\ | //' BOTAFOT#3, SbS#2, UKRMMA#13, DFV#8, SKA#2, IBB#10
`\|/`
`

 

Call that early? I was back for 5:30pm on the Saturday. Would have loved
to have stayed, but prior commitments meant I could only pop up for an
hour or so in the afternoon. Still, the Turbo hung together ok on its
longest trip in about 10 years and I had a fun ride back, despite
having to take the boring route down the A38.

I think my ears are still ringing from that silly exhaust on AJs (I
think) chop.

 

<aside> He was planning to leave at 9:30pm but got distracted </aside>

 

That happens at OSMs it would seem.

I was planning to be asleep a little after midnight, but it ended up
being 3AM.

 

So saying goodbye to Pat and me around 9:30 was a ruse to avoid
further conversation? Damn you and your goodbyes, sir!