In the early nineties, a group of us used to ride around together and meet up for events like the Pioneer Run. The group was loosely centred on Victory Motorcycles (which was located in one of the arches in The Stables market in Camden Town back then) and Raoul, the Kiwi mechanic there.We were a motley bunch, riding everything from souped-up MZs to Triumphs, Guzzis to BSAs. (I was definitely the odd one out on a Shovel.) But everywhere we stopped, we'd be plagued by rivet counters –"Oh yes, I had one of these, but not with the later aluminium spigot, which I think you'll find is incorrect..." – who would descend upon us like Harpies. After a while, we started creating avoidance tactics, like suddenly and quickly all walking off simultaneously in different directions without a word the moment a Frank Thomas-booted boffin approached one of our bikes.
The Boffin Dodgers were born.
My brother Adam created this montage after the Pioneer Run in '94.
2 comments:
Ha ha dodged one today at Hutton le Hole, then my bike wouldnt start to make a quick getaway..
Aww, that's rude. Maybe they were just lonely. Yeah that's it. Very sad and very lonely.
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