With the Met Office predicting the warmest day of the year so far, it was decided that an early start to the days proceedings would be prudent, so it was that at 8:30, a reduced gathering of the group left the usual meeting place of Bob’s gaff and set off to Shobden Airfield Cafe. Bob guided us via the usual route to our current favoured watering hole through the scenic Warwickshire countryside to our first refuelling stop at Redditch then onward to the fine A443 via Bromsgrove and Droitwich.
With the temperature rising by the hour, the three of us arrived at the airfield unusually before the Cymry so we had time to relax in typical English fashion with a nice brew. A good half an hour passed and still no sign of our Welsh buddies but with unanswered phone calls we knew they were on the way. Eventually it became apparent for the delay as only one motobeiciewr came down the airport road. Bonzo explained that Ray had a prior engagement and would not be out to partake in the fine weather.
The obligatory Lysander breakfasts, with diet cokes, were ordered and we settled down to the usual pi** take banter as you do. Discussion swung round to the next port of call and with Michael, there won’t be a hurricane, Fish’s successors being spot on with the weather forecast we decided on a trip to Bristol with Fowlers Motorcycles being the target so that Rig could drool over the Triumph department in an attempt to part with his hard earned cash.
A good scenic route was checked out and programmed into the Sat Nav so off we went towards Hereford in the hope of negotiating the City Centre without too many problems, this did prove to be a slight underestimation as the city centre provided its usual navigational nightmare. We eventually emerged on the right road and off to Monmouth via the A466. From Monmouth we kept faith in the rather fine route of the A466 to Chepstow and picked up the M48 and over the impressive Severn Bridge into Bristol.
By the time we arrived at Fowlers a pit stop for refreshments was well overdue. In an effort to keep down the day’s calorie intake a round of diet cokes and chocolate was ordered and consumed. Internally refuelled we set off to negotiate the vast array of new motorcycles and accessories on show, many coins of the realm were spent in dreams and everywhere you looked the thought of “how did I ever manage without one of those” sprang into the parting with cash area of the brain. Several tyre kicking sessions later the time came to tog up and head for home, the weather was still Scorchio as we headed through Bristol City Centre to pick up the M4, where our lone Cymro left us to head back to the Valley’s and the three of us carried onto to pick up the A46 and Fosse Way for the trip back to the Midlands.
All in all it was a fine excuse to get out and burn a good tankful of a main ingredient required for the internal combustion engine to function and thanks has to go to whomever is in charge for keeping the wet stuff away.