In the western world world everything has to be bigger, better and badder than the next thing. That's "the hype", and when you hear about "the biggest, best and baddest thing you'll ever see", you know that's the hype. But when somebody tells you: *We're going to take you to a place where you'll be so close that you could touch the bikes as they go past" - and they look you in the eye so convincingly that you believe they're speaking the truth…
It wasn't all work and no play, though, and we did try to spend a little time in civvies, looking around the town and spending time out of the saddle, as it were. However, on Monday it was noses back to the grindstone as the weather changed but the urge to explore and enjoy flourished unabated. We visited the Great Laxey Wheel and did a lap of the TT course through the mountain mist before returning to the start line grandstand, where every conceivable type of motorcycle could be seen.
And so it came to pass that, having explored the island end-to-end and width-to-width, I was shepherded to Hillberry on Tuesday, our last full day on the island.
I must say, it didn't look like much when we arrived and I wondered about the "touch the bikes" remark less an less as we waited for the arrival of the first machine to test the damp surface that ribboned away into the distance to the right of us - and into a rather interesting looking bend to our left.
Thankfully, the rain had been light and the grass was dry enough to rest upon, so everyone made themselves comfortable while I fidgeted around with nothing in my head apart from the fact that my phone was nearly out of battery. Then, there came the sound of a bike in the far distance and the atmosphere on the banking changed as everyone stirred expectantly.
I thought they looked a bit daft, lying there in partly-damp grass, their heads barely above the roadside banking, phone-cams pointed back towards the straight…
…but I was just a newbie, and this was to be my first sight of a competing, racing motorcycle travelling along Hillberry and into Hillberry corner.
(If you love to hear mechanical symphonies, turn up the sound up a bit.)
The grin at the end of the clip (Paul) was in response to my reaction to what I'd just seen.
There were even more laughs as my excitement increased and, NO! I didn't dare to try to touch the bikes!
You've not turned the volume up loud enough.
Watching in real time I imagined I could see the difference in line, confidence and speed of the racers. That's not always as obvious when viewing a one-off video of the same event (to an untrained eye such as mine). But viewing and reviewing these several videos, gradually it became apparent to me that some riders knew "the line", some were supremely brave - and then there were "the fast lads".
"I thought they looked a bit daft, lying there in partly-damp grass, their heads barely above the roadside banking, phone-cams pointed back towards the straight…"
…but suddenly I wasn't a "newbie" any more.
Everybody has to learn sometime, I guess!
Some folk say that life is about memories - because memories tell you something about who you are - and who you were.
Memories are dreams; dreams of the past: and on the way home, that's all we could do…
…until it's time to live the next one.
Don't just dream it..
…LIVE it …!!
…and don't forget your so polder…!
Don't blame me - it's all his fault!