Happy Days…
I’m not talking about the American sitcom set in the fifties in which a 30-something guy acts as a leather clad teenager and says “heyyyy” a lot while beating machinery into giving him freebies. I mean happy, sunny days with surprise events. Like this Saturday, which was a happy day. Why you might well ask, well here’s what happened.
Firstly my wife, asks if I’ll take her on the back of the bike to deliver a job application. She has been pillion on the Z750 twin, but only for very short journeys. Usually she has to be persuaded for a month before she’ll get on the Kawasaki even then. For her to ask to be taken on it, and for a couple of miles riding along major routes, well that’s an occasion to smile about.
What else could I do but get out the bike and fire it up? We both got our gear on ( Big Fat Gay Al donated a leather jacket for my wife and kids to use a while back, as it had got too small for him despite several herds of cows having been slaughtered to make such a large leather item) the jacket fitted Sue if a little loosely, and we set off.
I took things very gently, don’t want to scare the lady off of bikes again now she’s got the courage to ride pillion do we. At first I could feel the fingers through my jacket, and digging into my skin. At the same time my hips were being crushed by the grip of my wifes thighs as she clung on in fear of her life at 20 miles an hour! A few minutes along the smooth roads of Milton Keynes and she had relaxed her grip enough for at least some blood to get through to my feet again.
I opened the throttle on the twin a few times on the dual carriageway, but the grip remained relaxed. We soon arrived at the destination, but alas our trip was in vain as we couldn’t deliver the all important letter anyway as there was no letterbox outside the gates of the building. I made sure she was happy and we set off to ride home. The only incident of note was at a junction where I had to stop, and Sue had started to lean into a right hand turn. I put down my leg, and then had to use all my strength to pull the bike with the wife upright. Phew, that was close.
At home we discussed the journey in depth, the verdict was she liked it, and was looking for other places we can go together, within her comfort zone as a pillion i.e. within 10 miles or so. It was also pointed out that maybe this could be a moneysaver as the bike would use so much less petrol than her Zaffira for those short trips to get videos (I mean DVD’s, I am modern and with it, honest I meant DVD’S I did) and for other errands when the kids don’t need to come with us.
At around 1:30 pm Big Fat Gay Al arrived on his (BUM) Bandit as someone had told him we might have a barbecue again in the afternoon. After a few minutes of discussing food, Al decided we needed more, and a ride to Tesco’s was in order. Not the nearest one though, we were going to Buckingham for the necessary provisions to feed Al and his amazing appetite. We both geared up and got on the bikes and set off for the A422.
It was a great ride there, along the twistys, and stopping for fuel along the way. £8 to top off the tank which I thought was going to be rather lower than it was having not been checked for ages. £8 equalled just a little over 6 litres of unleaded. Criminal prices, I can remember when it was less than (no wait I’d better not say what I remember fuel costing it will make me sound older than my 21 years).
Anyway, I left the garage with a full tank of petrol, and then proceeded to burn some off quickly with an awesome display of the tremendous acceleration of the Z750 twins 30 year old power plant. Then I backed off to let Al and his 1200 Bandit catch up again 
As usual the bike was fun, solid and stable to ride around the lanes to Buckingham. And all too soon we were at Tesco. We done the shopping for extra barbecue food which Al packed into his tardis backpack. Al did his best to make babies cry, and mothers complain as he started his (bum) Bandit and revved it with his stubby exhaust can barking loudly.
We were a little along the road back when I realised my helmet strap hadn’t buckled up properly and was flapping around my chin(s) so I had to pull in a layby to do it up. As we left, I tried to spray Al and the Bandit with gravel from my spinning rear wheel, but he hadn’t followed me across to the patch, maybe he knew my plans in advance.
Then it was home, and start the barbecue. We all know they won’t start wihout help, so I added some flammable liquids to the coals. My eyebrows, and lashes will grow back, this I know from experience, but wether the rabbit and guinea pigs will ever be the same again after the loud “woof” of sudden combustion, I’m just not sure.
The eventual outcome of barbecue food was delicious and bountiful a feast fit for a king. I also ought to add that Big Gay Al did get on something a bit more potent than his Suzuki though, as soon as he saw our Honda moped he wanted a go. I was reluctant as his experience of powerful machinery is limited to the Bandit and a couple of Kawasakis (ZX10 and 1000RX) but I let him try it out. He didn’t fall off, which is a shame as that would have made a happy day even funnier.
Yep happy days, may we all have many more of them.