Reyt-pack September 2022 (Downhill vintage rigid race Yorkshire style)
velomaniac
MacRetro Rider
Pants!!!!!...... Earlier I said ROGina was in fine fettle, better so than I thought. Well in the past I noticed a crack around the seat tube just below where the upper down tube joins. I fixed this by splinting it with some aluminum tubing I riveted into place and all was fine for many a merry mile. Cycling it the evening before last I glanced downward and noticed the upper down tube moving left and right as I pedalled.
A more extreme bodged repair will now be needed involving placing a tube inside the seat tube that overlaps the crack and bonding and riveting. I am not even sure that's possible but I will be swearing my way through an attempted fix this winter. Bikes too cheap and battered for a proper professional fix but it's earmarked for this Dalby nonsense and I will bring it if at all possible
A more extreme bodged repair will now be needed involving placing a tube inside the seat tube that overlaps the crack and bonding and riveting. I am not even sure that's possible but I will be swearing my way through an attempted fix this winter. Bikes too cheap and battered for a proper professional fix but it's earmarked for this Dalby nonsense and I will bring it if at all possible
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That’s the spirit of Heath Robinson right there that is.
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I just cannot build a 'shit' bicycle.
Sooooo...
Let us intone the spirit of 'Colin'.
'Colin' is a fictional person, just turned 14, he lives a street or two down from the big housing estate in the posh bit of small town
His parents buy him everything and he dutifully hands out the unwanted stuff to mates as he doesnt (yet) have a younger brother (his parents Yvonne and Nigel upon experiencing a second flush of marriage are about to announce a new addition to their family).
We enter the double garage avoiding Yvonnes new Fiesta (a Womans Own on the passenger seat), just behind the mkV Cortina 2.0 GL that Colin's Dad has just parked up and admired after it was delivered from Lookers (a recent promotion meant an upgrade in wage and a new company car) Nigel had paid extra for the FM stereo radio and was quite absorbed, a vacant look appearing on his face as Blondie combined with that new car smell sends his imagination into overdrive.
As we carefully skirt the gleaming black rear bumper and being careful not to trip over the half bag of cement next to the swingball, we see Colin working on his shiny new Raleigh Burner. His attention taken by the red and white decals and paint job, smiling at the new gold brakes from Aunt Jane and 'Aunty' Miriam (Yvonne's sister and her best friend - Yvonne has always been a bit curious of their relationship, Miriam is very butch with arms Giant Haystacks would raise an eyebrow to), the tinny sounds of Duran Duran's 'Girls on Film' emanating from the gaudy orange headphones of an equally shiny new Sony Walkman. On a shelf next to a now dusty Millennium Falcon, a box of his Dads old racer parts vies for attention as a well practiced and habitual duck beneath the old frame and wheels enables him to grab more rags and polish.
Being careful not to get anything on his new drainpipe jeans he stands back to admire his work -''nice'' he proclaims with a smile.
A shadow takes his attention. At the garage door is Barry. Bell bottom jeans swing in the light breeze over scuffed and battered shoes as the ever hopeful Barry stops by to see what his mate is up to and what 'stuff' he has today. Headphones around his neck, Colin tries to blank out the sounds of the car stereo and his Dad, ''wotcha!''
Barry steps into the the double garage, to him its a palace, shelves overloaded with unused and forgotten things, goggled eyed at an electric juicer, a teasmaid stained yellow by the sun streaming through a narrow window almost glowing like gold. Barry's eyes settle on the box of parts and the Dads frame and forks
''You better get those goggle eyes looked at mate!''
''are... are they available?'' stammered Barry carefully wiping the dust from the frame
Colin knows that Barry doesnt have much, Colin is also level headed enough to know that he is spoilt by his parents and competitive relatives. Christmas and birthdays always seemed to present themselves with mountains of brightly gift wrapped boxes of all shapes and sizes, the tired early morning fuzzy haired smiles of his dressing gowned parents. The screams of delight as yet another Star Wars toy was unveiled soon to be forgotten as the beeps and honks of an Atari put an end to any intelligible form of conversation.
Colin is abruptly brought out of his revery by the thunk of a car door as his still wistful looking Dad exits the shiny new car with a waft of plastic and Old Spice ''Alright Barry? What do you want this time?'' Seeing Barry holding his old frame, he thinks back to summers lost bombing around on his old racer.
''Did you want it? Its a bit passed it, I rode around when I was your age and wasnt careful, we went down bomb holes and the woods - where you live now - there was a big bombhole there. We would spend hours jumping and bending bits and chucking bricks at each other. Then I met Barry's Mother...'' His voice trailed off and that wistful look took an even deeper turn as he remembered skidding his 'Tracker' bike in front of a teenage Yvonne
''Take it, Barry - Colin, hand him down that box of parts too, there should be enough to build something''
Barry just cannot believe his luck that Saturday morning, he was hoping just to get some brake pads and maybe a gear cable for his old wreck. What was supposed to be his version of the estates latest craze of Tracker bikes was looking very woeful. Other kids on their new BMXs laughed at him, especially in his ragetty jeans as they yet again got caught up in the chain.
To be continued...
Sooooo...
Let us intone the spirit of 'Colin'.
'Colin' is a fictional person, just turned 14, he lives a street or two down from the big housing estate in the posh bit of small town
His parents buy him everything and he dutifully hands out the unwanted stuff to mates as he doesnt (yet) have a younger brother (his parents Yvonne and Nigel upon experiencing a second flush of marriage are about to announce a new addition to their family).
We enter the double garage avoiding Yvonnes new Fiesta (a Womans Own on the passenger seat), just behind the mkV Cortina 2.0 GL that Colin's Dad has just parked up and admired after it was delivered from Lookers (a recent promotion meant an upgrade in wage and a new company car) Nigel had paid extra for the FM stereo radio and was quite absorbed, a vacant look appearing on his face as Blondie combined with that new car smell sends his imagination into overdrive.
As we carefully skirt the gleaming black rear bumper and being careful not to trip over the half bag of cement next to the swingball, we see Colin working on his shiny new Raleigh Burner. His attention taken by the red and white decals and paint job, smiling at the new gold brakes from Aunt Jane and 'Aunty' Miriam (Yvonne's sister and her best friend - Yvonne has always been a bit curious of their relationship, Miriam is very butch with arms Giant Haystacks would raise an eyebrow to), the tinny sounds of Duran Duran's 'Girls on Film' emanating from the gaudy orange headphones of an equally shiny new Sony Walkman. On a shelf next to a now dusty Millennium Falcon, a box of his Dads old racer parts vies for attention as a well practiced and habitual duck beneath the old frame and wheels enables him to grab more rags and polish.
Being careful not to get anything on his new drainpipe jeans he stands back to admire his work -''nice'' he proclaims with a smile.
A shadow takes his attention. At the garage door is Barry. Bell bottom jeans swing in the light breeze over scuffed and battered shoes as the ever hopeful Barry stops by to see what his mate is up to and what 'stuff' he has today. Headphones around his neck, Colin tries to blank out the sounds of the car stereo and his Dad, ''wotcha!''
Barry steps into the the double garage, to him its a palace, shelves overloaded with unused and forgotten things, goggled eyed at an electric juicer, a teasmaid stained yellow by the sun streaming through a narrow window almost glowing like gold. Barry's eyes settle on the box of parts and the Dads frame and forks
''You better get those goggle eyes looked at mate!''
''are... are they available?'' stammered Barry carefully wiping the dust from the frame
Colin knows that Barry doesnt have much, Colin is also level headed enough to know that he is spoilt by his parents and competitive relatives. Christmas and birthdays always seemed to present themselves with mountains of brightly gift wrapped boxes of all shapes and sizes, the tired early morning fuzzy haired smiles of his dressing gowned parents. The screams of delight as yet another Star Wars toy was unveiled soon to be forgotten as the beeps and honks of an Atari put an end to any intelligible form of conversation.
Colin is abruptly brought out of his revery by the thunk of a car door as his still wistful looking Dad exits the shiny new car with a waft of plastic and Old Spice ''Alright Barry? What do you want this time?'' Seeing Barry holding his old frame, he thinks back to summers lost bombing around on his old racer.
''Did you want it? Its a bit passed it, I rode around when I was your age and wasnt careful, we went down bomb holes and the woods - where you live now - there was a big bombhole there. We would spend hours jumping and bending bits and chucking bricks at each other. Then I met Barry's Mother...'' His voice trailed off and that wistful look took an even deeper turn as he remembered skidding his 'Tracker' bike in front of a teenage Yvonne
''Take it, Barry - Colin, hand him down that box of parts too, there should be enough to build something''
Barry just cannot believe his luck that Saturday morning, he was hoping just to get some brake pads and maybe a gear cable for his old wreck. What was supposed to be his version of the estates latest craze of Tracker bikes was looking very woeful. Other kids on their new BMXs laughed at him, especially in his ragetty jeans as they yet again got caught up in the chain.
To be continued...
Last edited:
yakboy
Manitou Fan
Can't wait for part two...what will be the outcome,? Will Barry die horribly in the bombhole when the frame crumples around him, will Colin's dad be found responsible and end up sharing a cell with a lower middle class hating gorilla distantly related to Barry?
Real Booker prize stuff this..capturing the spirit of the early 80's in all it consumer gaudiness.
Keep it up LGF
Real Booker prize stuff this..capturing the spirit of the early 80's in all it consumer gaudiness.
Keep it up LGF
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So, half way through writing I decided 'Barry' would be 'Colin' and Colin would be better as Barry so apologies if it got a little confusing before I edited it to suit with a bicycle ride half way through the day.
The story continues:
Barry (not Colin) cannot believe his luck. The excitement of a box of bits and a frame to play with was almost all too much. Hanging around the garage with Colin (not Barry) even among all that stuff just left to gather dust on the shelves could not distract him from the frame. Its coveted '531' badge shining emerald and gold in his mind. The blue metallic paint was the nicest he'd seen on a bicycle - his own tracker was a dribbled 'Corporation Blue' enamel, the best his older brother could do when he got home from work at the council. He was grateful for his old bike but it always seemed to have something loose or was needing a new innertube.
More laters taters
The story continues:
Barry (not Colin) cannot believe his luck. The excitement of a box of bits and a frame to play with was almost all too much. Hanging around the garage with Colin (not Barry) even among all that stuff just left to gather dust on the shelves could not distract him from the frame. Its coveted '531' badge shining emerald and gold in his mind. The blue metallic paint was the nicest he'd seen on a bicycle - his own tracker was a dribbled 'Corporation Blue' enamel, the best his older brother could do when he got home from work at the council. He was grateful for his old bike but it always seemed to have something loose or was needing a new innertube.
More laters taters
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Needs more adjectives and perhaps fronted adverbials. Group adjectives in twos or threes for effect. Emotive language? Colin and Barry need fleshing out into fully formed characters, maybe introduce a stronger rivalry increasing dramatic tension.
Present tense is an ambitious choice. Can you sustain it?
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I only understood 3 of those words
yakboy
Manitou Fan
I'm with you, when my kids came home a few years ago talking about 'adverbials' I thought they were making it up...I'm sure they weren't around in our days
