gatch

Its domination pushed into living hell
Domination a now blacked heart
Is reaching out divinity
Body suspended by chains over razors
And nails its a penalty
Each razor a vice and each nail
Marks the demise of you life.
Grim construction grows
Has life played a trick
Sealed you in brick by brick
Till your end forcing you to bend

The above lines are from Pantera's classic song domination, they are not at all applicable to the story, I just think it's awesome aha.

...

Chris and me had yarned about it for a bit at work, the both of us being pretty keen on motorcycles, of course we are going to chew the fat.

He has a 500cc Norton Dominator that he has owned since he was 17, and over the last 6 years has been developing the motor and chassis to the point where now it is on its 3rd frame and runs on methanol.

It has been raced with great success in the post classic racing scene and now is without a full time rider.. So the idea came about that I take it for a hoon, just to dip my toes in the water so to speak. Fuckin loved it. I've said it before and I'll say it again, bikes are fuckin cool.

Went out with Chris and Michelle to manfield, to the Mother's MC run race day. Had a few stints in the classic class and also participated in the Le Mans style race (only to be lapped by Pete Tanner on the rear wheel, his wheelie lasted most of the Hulme straight.. bastid).
I got my ass handed to me by just about everyone there, but it was an eye opener. And just like a crack junky, once is not enough.

I'm hooked.

The feeling you get from holding the throttle wide open as you are leaned over as far as you think physics will allow is unlike anything else, a little bit nervous, but at the same time your brain is screaming "give it more you pansy!!!", your body is pumped with adrenaline to the point where the only sensation you feel is the urge for more ! faster ! longer ! harder !

Being a n00b most of the time coming away from a turn and down the straight I would be thinking "man there is so much room for improvement there" but all is forgotten as your brain overloads trying to decipher the manner in which you can outwit the enemy (the track), the recurring theme for the day was BRAKE LATER, TURN LATER.

For all the critiquing and ribbing I got from my dismal field standings, the crew were pretty impressed that I got on a strange bike and fanged it to the limits of my ability, and that with more time on the track my skills will catch up to the standard my mouth has advertised..

I'm seriously considering trying to find secondary employment, to get myself something I can punt around on the track. If that's what it will take, then that's what will be done.

Watch this space.