Wigan pier, mebbe not where I would have chosen to loose my cherry with the Yorkies, but hey beggers cant be choosers can they. (I don't know where I would have chosen either).
It was raining (does it always rain on Sundays?) when I arrived at the garage at the top of the M606, I must confess that in the 3 miles I rode to get there I almost went home twice, damned weather.
Hiding at the back of the garage were the Yorkies and their huge Yorkie steeds, well they looked huge up against my little 535.
It looks so big in my little garage, but parked between Terry's and Ivan's it was so tiny, I didn't think the poor little thing would be able to keep up, (yeh so I meant me not the bike).
After a brief talk about 'second manning' we were off, having been told by Terry that the Yorkies like the scenic routes, I discovered the scenery of Mannigham, Saltaire and Shipley before reaching Keighley.
Mebbe next time the not so Virgin Yorkie will suggest a trip over Queensbury and Denholme instead, as long as the snow ain't settled in Queensbury (private joke for Bradfordians sorry to everyone else).
Keighley turned to Skipton, along with my first attempt as 'second manning' hard it was too, a straight ahead at Steeton roundabout, and we were all heading along the bypass, Clitheroe bound.
At this point I realised that I could keep up, just about if I red-lined my little red bike in all gears, chasing after Terry who was doing 140 mph (poetic licence here).
McDonalds arrived looming up out of the Lancashire rain, strange that the Lankys had said it was fine when Terry rang them (the caught my poetic licence bug I think).
Coffee drunk, chips eaten we were off, Bev on his BMW was last man or so Terry said. Down past the aerodrome at Samlesbury, down to the motorway and another attempt at me being 'second man' I stopped at the bottom of the slip road the massed armys of Yorkies and Lanky's sped past. Terry and Mrs Terry waved as they passed 'hey I got the hang of this' I thought (wrong again you all cry).
Seconds passed then a minute, no BMW and no Bev. Give them time I thought, those lights by the aerodrome are a pain at times, then shock of all shocks, a figure in black waving from the motorway.... it seems that the plan of Bev being last man had changed, and now Terry and I were playing catch up in the rain on the M6.
Catch up we did, in the car park at Wigan pier, but hey we had all arrived. A wander around, a trip to the school room, (Caol, or Coal, who said that Ma'am).
A boat ride, a history lesson on canals, and we were off again, Wigan, M61, Bolton and Rivington. No hiccups with 'second manning' well no major ones, and we were back on the M62 and home.
Thanks to all the Yorkies for making my day and my first ride out (one of many I hope) a memorable one.
Paul Saxby (and his little red 535).