Hard to believe, but after many trips to the IOM there is still so much of this beautiful island I haven't seen. So today I left the bikes and went and did a bit of tourism...
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| Train driver and conductor at Laxey station |
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| Electric railway up to Snaefell Mountain |
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| View from the top of Snaefell - TT Mountain Course in foreground |
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| Of course... on the way down the weather cleared up... |
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| A bit o scran in laxey |
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| Stashoon? |
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| Stream near the Laxey wheel |
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| Went through a small part of what was once the biggest Zinc mine in europe |
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| Laxey wheel - 150 year old water power for the mines |
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| It's restored and fully functional... I love the Manx view of Health and Safety! |
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| A giant on a steam-train snatched some kids... |
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| Always cool olden day things around the Isle |
I decided to get the BSA streettracker out for a spin. At first she didn't want to get out of the Chevy (been in the back since Thursday...). But a bit of elbow grease, jeans grease and tee-shirt grease get her out in the sunshine.
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| First stop for the old gal was the paddock where ManxGP Legends Alan and Mark helped with a bit of fettling. They know a lot more about my bike than I do... |
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| After a lap we visited the Fairies |
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| Down to Port Erin... dark clouds movin in... |
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| Up the coast road to Peel and I found this guy brilliantly flying helicopters |
On the way back home I stopped by the Hawthorn pub for dinner. Here's a story:
The Hawthorn is on the TT Course and in 2005 I was out for Thursday evening practice at my first ManxGP. The bike started misfiring through Appledean. Just after Greeba Bridge she cut out. I coasted to a stop at the Hawthorn and parked the bike up in the parking lot.
"Stoopid bike!" I gave her a kick. Took off helmet and gloves and realized I was in the parking of pub. "What luck!" as I thought of that ice-cold pint.
The pub was closed. Darn. Turns out that the hawthorn is also a marshal post. That night there was 1 marshal on duty. He let's race control know that I'm broken down via a little red 1930s telephone in a little box on the telephone pole... he has to crank a handle to wind it up!
We sat on those tables outside the pub to watch the rest of the lads practice. From Greeba Bridge to Ballacrain is supposed to be flat-out... past the Hawthorn is easily over 100mph. As I sat down the first bike came past. "EEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYOOOOOooooooowwwwwwww...."
Fuck me! This was my first TT Mountain Course spectator experience. It took my breath away. 3 feet from some nutter revving the nuts of a race bike at over 100mph.
After watching in awe for a few minutes, the marshal asked "So, do you think you'll come back?". Up to a few minutes before my first ManxGP had been pure survival for me. I was in way over my head. My ignorance was astounding and had race office known how I was floundering, they would have sent me packing. I wasn't enjoying it at all. Riding the TT Course for the first time had been terrifying. I was just surviving. Bike issues, personal issues... events of the past few days had been frazzling me... I was ready to chuck it in and go home.
But when I sat on that table and those bikes tore past just feet away... the agression, the control, the power, the energy, the rawness of it all... something happened. Suddenly I wanted to do this more than anything. I wanted to come hooning out of Greeba Bridge as fast as fuck and keep it lit all the way to Ballacraine. I wanted to go fast! FAST!
I just smiled at the marshal and said something like "I don't kno..." as another bike howling past broke my sentence. He looked me in eye, smiled and nodded. "You'll be back. It's got you."
Since then I have always wanted to visit the Hawthorn again... and go FAST!
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| Dinner at the Hawthorn |
Dinner at the Hawthorn was pretty good.
I visited again... but I've still got to go FAST!
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