Saul

I would hazard a guess that we are all on the same page

Mate you are confusing me with somebody who cares. It's not the bark in the dog that matters it's the heart. Somebody who can ride will make up for having less BHP than someone who can't. So arguing about numbers is the equivalent of sending each other dick pics. Within reason of course, but the difference between a 90 BHP and 120 BHP on similar weight bikes is the rider. Now you may think you are a riding god or you could actually be, but arguing about numbers is just bullshite and leads me to believe you may well be the former. Ultimately nobody cares

Marcel is using his own measure. For him it's Bullshite Horse Power normally found on paper which I believe is a smaller unit than measured Brake Horse Power.

I had a very hard paper round.

Sunny when I left home.

It's just marketing wank. Might sound faster

I slept most of today

Part two We left Penberth Cove with the WI Fete still in full swing. We talked about going to Porthcurno beach to see the cables but the Minack Theatre cafe had a stronger draw. Problem was it was closed to the public unless you had booked ahead. So we followed the coast road around past Porthcapel, Porthgwarra, Nanjizal Bay, Lands End, First and Last House and finally onto stop at Sennen Cove. Gwynver beach in the background. Apparently we can’t park there So we went to for some much needed refreshments Saw this Tripple Black and I thought of @Pedro Sounded great with a full Akrapovic system. Owner was a Sennen local riding around in flip flops. Sennen Beach Lifeboat house and slipway We headed off again withe the old nail riders wanting to stick to the slower B roads for the scenery, apparently. Wasn’t bad at all to be fair. Headed past Land’s End Airport, St Just, Botallack, Pendeen, Zennor all across Tencrom to St Ives. Decided then to head back to Hayle and ultimately back to Hell’s Mouth again for Coffee. While I was getting the drinks some of the lads helped some guy bump start his 1250 Bandit with flat battery. Wish I had some photos of some very comedic antics. How none of the lads had a heart event I will never know. Silly old feckers. Matey who owned the Bandit was just as bad he must have been 70. They got him going and had to have a few quiet minutes drinking their coffee to recover. Now all flagging and miles from home they finally agreed to take the A30 home. I lead them onto Portreath, Redruth and Scorrier before rejoining the A30. Had to keep the pace down to 60/70 so the British Nails didn’t destroy themselves or blind their riders with vibes. Despite that we made it home to Fowey by around 18:00 in time for cocoa and a nap. Twas a bloody good day. We are going up to Dartmoor next time be cooler up there My day stats from leaving work in the morning. The lads did about 145 of those miles. Really enjoyed riding the CBF again after its repairs. Great, capable comfy old bike. And it’s got to be said in good company.

Mate I lived here all my life and I still have much to see. Now we are all at least semi retired it is an excuse to get out on the bikes and look. More to follow later when I get the chance.

I finished my night shift at Lanson Hospital at 08:00 and should have gone home to bed but I got the Bat Signal from from the FOGGs (Fowey Old Grump Git Group) saying a ride out was going to occur at 09:00 4Turnings Garage. Of course there was no choice, I had the call! so I sneaked out of work 15 mins early pinned the throttle for the 35 mile ride back to Fowey. Got home, changed out of my uniform, took my meds and made 4Turnings with 10 minutes to spare. Didn't have time to swap bikes but I filled the CBF600 the day before and it was well up to the task of the old British Bike nails in the group. The Mission for the day was to find Martyn's ancestral home in Mousehole and recreate a photo of his Grandmother. At the meeting point we decided the first order of priority for the day was breakfast So we headed west, through Par, St Austell, Grampound, Tresillian, Scorrier, Portreath across the hayle Towans to Hells Mouth and the excellent Cafe that resides there. The Lads (Ha! that term was only accurate a long time ago in the 1970's) had the obligatory fry up but I, in my quest to be less of a fat cunt and survive past my upcoming 60th birthday, only had a coffee and tears of envy. Suitable vittled we again headed West through Hayle town past the Hayle estuary onto St Erth, Crowlas, Long Rock on to Penzance, Newlyn and finally Mousehole. Of course while we were there Ice Cream was on the cards. The Blackberry and Clotted Cream was particularly nice. Also saw a rat running around thought is was suppose to be the Mousehole Cat that was famous, shame he wasn't on duty today, he would have had some sport. Apparently the oldest house in Mousehole and the only one to Survive the sacking and burning of the village by the Spanish in the 15th century, or so the stone on the wall said. I think the Citroen is more recent. We met the nicest parking guy ever when we stopped who let us all park for free and also let us leave our helmets and jackets in his shed. Good guy, I reckon he liked the Cornish flag stickers on my bike, even though I do believe he was a Cockaneese in origin. We were probably lucky to get our helmets and Jackets back. Martyn majestically recreating the photo of his Grandmother in the exactly same spot a 100 years later. Interesting to note the name of the cottage now given that his family migrated East to Fowey (Foye). Looking out from Mousehole to Prussia Cove on a sunny day could almost be the Med. St Michael's Mount out there in the Blue. After enjoying a mouch around Mousehole on foot we headed off again. We thought about going to Lamorna Cove but decided not to as they have a particularly aggressive ANPR system there that likes to issue parking tickets like confetti if you don't pay quickly enough. Also on top of that there is essentially fuck all there apart from a cafe that is an Emmett honey trap and a disused granite quarry. People only go there because of the song. So we decided to go on to find the Merry Maidens Stone Circle in hope of benefitting from it's pagan fertility endowments. Couldn't fucking find it which was probably just as well given our age and collective health issues. So Penberth Cove was our decided destination given that it was much prettier than Lamorna Cove and free to park. Well I say park I meant abandon our bikes at the side of the road, but it was okay as the locals were all in a field at the WI Fete just up the road. Rather an attractive place. All run by the National Trust now so just an expensive dormitory with don't do this and don't do that signs everywhere. Still free to visit at the moment until the NT work out a way to commercialise the view. Steve having a Reginald Perrin moment, he said he was seal spotting but we know what he was up to, demented old fool. How the used to get the boats up and out of the water. How they do it now with a magic shed. Well not really, just an electrically powered hydraulic winch. Or so the geeks told me whilst on a Man Nip trip high on looking at mechanical things. Martyn testing the bridges capacity. You'll notice not much timber around here. When it all gets a bit to much best to sit and collect your thoughts. Martyn and Bob in crises or possibly just a bit sweaty. Dazed and confused group selfie just to prove I was actually there.

I haven't got a van Dear Boy, That van belonged to the Paramedic I was working with

Now all is good on the CBF I am back to 2 wheel commuting. The ride in is never much but the morning ride home across Bodmin is beautiful. I’ve missed this a lot. .

Been watching Chicargo PD. Bit of a formulaic police drama but my Mrs likes that sort of thing. Soap Copra. Ok though.

I have always thought they look the dogs bollocks.

Yeah that would be a red flag