July 2016

Bike Night

Well it seemed busy from where I was mostly at the control point, mostly I say as it takes but a little time for me to become stir crazy (10 minutes on average). I was stopped on a number of occasions by visitors and bikers, offering their congratulations on an excellent night. So to all you boys and girls that got stuck in and donned the yellow jacket of stewardship, Thank you, without you it could not happen. I shall add more detail in the next newsletter as I will doubtless get more feedback. If you have a tale to tell of goings on during the bike night please let me know.

Press release by the Chairman.

Boston Bike Night 2016

Didn’t we do well again!! The 20th Boston Bike Night, our annual celebration of everything on 2 or 3 wheels, turned out to be another cracking Boston Bike Night, the weather behaved, a great turnout of bikes, the whole town centre was full, I don’t think we could accommodate many more! Thank you for your support, and also thank you to the the general public, who turned out in their thousands to see the spectacle, probably more than we’ve ever had before! It was great to see people from all communities in the town enjoying themselves together. I also had the pleasure of escorting the Mayor of Boston, Councillor Stephen Woodliffe through the town centre, who thoroughly enjoyed seeing the event for the first time. Special thanks must be made to all of our sponsors, without whom the Bike Night would not be possible:

A Plant Branded Biker Costa Coffee Fenland Fastenings

Greggs NCP Car Parks Newflame Pescod Square

Silt Side Services Snak Shak Sportsbikeshop Tates Fish Shop

TFM Supplies.

Not forgetting of course, Boston Borough Council (Stephanie Beecher, Alexis Hall & Christina West) and Lincoln County Council Highways (Helen Ratcliffe & Martyn Allen).

Days gone by

In my last editorial I started a ramble through my early bike history, so I thought for your amusement I would relate an episode from that earlier time.

I acquired a Lambretta LD 150, I know, but it had 2 wheels and that was all that mattered, as it happened it had little else, aside from the minimum bits required to ride it. It was a project, non runner when I got it. I learnt a lot from that little machine, shaft drive, did you know? It had a very low compression ratio, so low in fact that I ran it on paraffin and oil mix, it stank something rotten and smoked like a kna%$ered diesel, well, I was a student then. After many trips to the library and much quizzing of father, no internet then, I gathered enough information to get the beast running.

A test ride was in order, so with my good friend Chris following on his J100, yes another lambretta, we set off. A little back ground, I lived at the time in a place called South Witham, some of you may know of it, it is just off the A1, and one of its roads was the original Great North Road. To continue. Chris and I scooted along the little narrow road at the top of the estate, and at some point having hit about 25mph, not bad on paraffin, I yelled to Chris “ look no brakes!” as I used my boots to stop, this just in time for some old guy to loom in front of me and berate me for the tow-rag I doubtless was. I thought no more of this episode until the summons to appear landed on the mat. My fathers mat, he was not amused, the estate we lived on was populated service personnel who took a dim view of these antics and the old guy was an off duty copper. So the summons read along the lines of, riding a dangerous vehicle on the Great North road whilst not in possession of a licence or road tax. Like was said, I probably was a tow-rag.

My request for your thoughts comments on your bike history got a response fron Andy who sent me the following.

A Carrott, the early days.

I started riding 40 years ago. 1976. My heroes – Barry Sheene racing in GPs (and crashing), Evel Knievel jumping over buses (and crashing) and the man McQueen on TV every Christmas escaping from the Krauts (and crashing). I rode my schoolmate’s moped around a garden and didn’t crash. Clearly I was gifted and there was only one thing to do. Pester my parents for a bike. On my 17th birthday I got a 125 Honda. Within days I hit the kerb and fell off and had also been stopped by the Police. Within weeks I had run into the back of a car. I survived a few more months. Clearly there was only one thing to do. Pester my parents for a bigger bike. A CB200 came along with its cable operated disc brake and a knackered plug thread that would blow the plug out like a mini mortar and have me searching in the verge for the plug and plug cap. Monkey boots (remember them?), unlined nylon bomber jacket and welding gauntlets completed the ensemble. Those were the days!?