Oh Farq
Today, I was giving it root toot on the local BMX track, as one does when one is fifty five. Nae wukking furries. Shit hot would not best describe my attempts at getting air these days. But stacks of effort makes up for style, sometimes
Local track has had a spot of "improvement" by the local councill of late, and the neighborhood bmxers decided to do a bit of tweaking.
Gert big jump that I usually clear piece of piss, and they have extended the middle section. They have much lighter bikes and are half my weight, etc.
Result? Hackedoff gets perfect air and is wonderfully positioned to land on the front wheel of the down hill side like a starrr.
Except the jump is now two metres longer
Result? Well, me bike has clips on the pedals and I never let go of the bars if I fall off because a face full of handlebar is not a good idea. Arse over tit and I landed full-on me right shoulder. Totally farqued I am
but me street cred just went up 100%
Never give up and never get old. Once you stop pushing, it`s goodnight Vienna
Which isn`t a view shared by me child bride.
Fourteen years we`ve been married on the 18th. You`d think that was reason enough for a leg-over but no, not Mrs Aitch. She says she doesn`t want to hurt me
Well, best you just lay down and shut the farq up then darling
Cheeky Cow
Sporting Records, yerrs, indoor athletics was always my fave
