Lowflyer
Well-Known Member
Yes, that’s what I am, a fekin show off 
Forgot to say that a week last Sunday I was at Thunder in the glen, a quaint little gathering of Harley Hogs from all over the place.
Not really into them I must admit, I go to see some of the fantastic engineering that goes on. Some of the home made trikes were awesome.
Anyways, took a trip through on the old AT, had a quick look around and managed to find a parking space at the rear of the static stalls. Had a mosey around, taking care not to appear too interested in the leather chaps stall. Some good bits of kit for sale there, especially if you’re into bondage and all things leathery.
Spent I guess about 3/4hr pondering and decided to walk back to the car park and get on my way. Went round the corner to find my bike enveloped in a sea of hogs. Unknown to me, this where a lot of them congregate before heading over to do the mass rideout.
However, I did notice two young ginger haired lads, obviously brothers, taking a keen interest in my bike. They were taking photos of it whilst their leather clad dad stood back a little, quite perturbed that the Gingers from his loins were actually impressed by a non-hog, oh the indignity of it all !!! Maybe had something to do with the Paris Dakar logo on my front mudguard, or maybe because I was possibly the only “adventure” bike there, definitely the only Africa Twin.
I casually sauntered over to the bike, a massed gaze of Hog riders following my every move.
“Morning lads “
Bigger Ginger gave a huge grin, whilst dad continued to sulk in the background, he didn’t look too pleased.
As I was putting my helmet on, I was aware that the hogs had fenced me in, not intentionally I guess, but they must have been thinking “ How the hell is he going to get out of there ?? “
I took a bit of time sussing it out, carefully doing my chin strap up numerous times whilst trying to look unperturbed, can’t be too careful you know. The only way was to shuffle back and forth and hopefully not graze any of the immaculate hogs being watched over by their serious looking owners. A quiet hush loomed.
Aha, I could see away out. A small gap between two of the hogs and up a steep grass bank.
Fired the old girl, plenty of revs, stood on the pegs, made it between two hogs, hopped over a kerb and scooted up the grass bank. Back down the other side and back towards the hogs and open road, a nice long slick left on the damp grass.
I heard a WHOOAAAA from the assembled hog owners, turned round and saw the two Gingers grinning their heads off. A toot and a wave and I was away, still on the pegs, the Ginger’s cameras snapping whilst Ginger dad was positively seething, his face as red as his syrup.
I must admit, I don’t think I stopped chuckling until I got back to Inverness, what a hoot. I can imagine the talk at the table in Ginger’s house that night, and it wouldn’t necessarily be about hogs.
Just goes to show, thousands of pounds worth of machinery being upstaged by an old dog of a Honda.
Forgot to say that a week last Sunday I was at Thunder in the glen, a quaint little gathering of Harley Hogs from all over the place.
Not really into them I must admit, I go to see some of the fantastic engineering that goes on. Some of the home made trikes were awesome.
Anyways, took a trip through on the old AT, had a quick look around and managed to find a parking space at the rear of the static stalls. Had a mosey around, taking care not to appear too interested in the leather chaps stall. Some good bits of kit for sale there, especially if you’re into bondage and all things leathery.
Spent I guess about 3/4hr pondering and decided to walk back to the car park and get on my way. Went round the corner to find my bike enveloped in a sea of hogs. Unknown to me, this where a lot of them congregate before heading over to do the mass rideout.
However, I did notice two young ginger haired lads, obviously brothers, taking a keen interest in my bike. They were taking photos of it whilst their leather clad dad stood back a little, quite perturbed that the Gingers from his loins were actually impressed by a non-hog, oh the indignity of it all !!! Maybe had something to do with the Paris Dakar logo on my front mudguard, or maybe because I was possibly the only “adventure” bike there, definitely the only Africa Twin.
I casually sauntered over to the bike, a massed gaze of Hog riders following my every move.
“Morning lads “
Bigger Ginger gave a huge grin, whilst dad continued to sulk in the background, he didn’t look too pleased.
As I was putting my helmet on, I was aware that the hogs had fenced me in, not intentionally I guess, but they must have been thinking “ How the hell is he going to get out of there ?? “
I took a bit of time sussing it out, carefully doing my chin strap up numerous times whilst trying to look unperturbed, can’t be too careful you know. The only way was to shuffle back and forth and hopefully not graze any of the immaculate hogs being watched over by their serious looking owners. A quiet hush loomed.
Aha, I could see away out. A small gap between two of the hogs and up a steep grass bank.
Fired the old girl, plenty of revs, stood on the pegs, made it between two hogs, hopped over a kerb and scooted up the grass bank. Back down the other side and back towards the hogs and open road, a nice long slick left on the damp grass.
I heard a WHOOAAAA from the assembled hog owners, turned round and saw the two Gingers grinning their heads off. A toot and a wave and I was away, still on the pegs, the Ginger’s cameras snapping whilst Ginger dad was positively seething, his face as red as his syrup.
I must admit, I don’t think I stopped chuckling until I got back to Inverness, what a hoot. I can imagine the talk at the table in Ginger’s house that night, and it wouldn’t necessarily be about hogs.
Just goes to show, thousands of pounds worth of machinery being upstaged by an old dog of a Honda.
:combat-jedi1: