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Had a great ride today but only took a few photos Stopped here waiting for the rest of the group to come back as they went the wrong way. I done this lane a few months ago and thought it was for the first time That was until i got to this barn, once i saw the dummies in the windows it all came back to me but it was probably 12 years ago the last time i done it No idea what the the story is about them or if there is a story Only other photo is of Yoshi fixing a front puncture he done it in 10 minutes unfortunately it went flat again towards the end of the ride. There was plenty with Gopros on so might get some videos later

Bike trip to Verdun. 30th August to 1st September 2021. Having visited the 1st war battlefields of the Somme with their British and commonwealth cemetery’s and memorials and the American memorials and cemetery’s of the Meuse in Chateau Thierry (some of you will have seen those ride reports on previous incarnations of this site or similar) I have been trying for a while to organise a visit to Verdun and the French front of the 1st war. I’d been planning this trip for a while but struggling to find 3 days on the trot where no other obligation interfered with my being absent from either work or home. When work decided at fairly short notice that I could have 10 days holiday, I cleared it with the Mrs and fitted t in between a weeks hols (at home) with her and the kids, and the kids return to school. I dug the tent out of the shed and checked it wasn’t mouldy or rotted (I don’t use it very often…) and that all the poles and pegs were there. That being done I booked a spot in the municipal campsite in Verdun for a couple of nights and organised my kit for a couple of days away by bike. Sleeping bag and mattress in the plastic bag at the back. I reckon I won’t even need a tank bag. Loaded Just needed to update the GPS and away. Verdun is just sufficiently far from home to make it not doable in a day, at least not time wise if you want to actually visit any of the sites, but it’s not a full days ride to get there either so I left after lunch on Monday and as I was on my own purposefully planned a route via back roads and small villages, having all afternoon before me to cover the distance with the only constraint being the campsite sign in before 19:00. I usually stop after ½ hour or so of leaving home to have a quick check of baggage etc., just to make sure nothing’s come loose. To be faire it’s not really necessary with this set up as I only have the tent which is not inside the panniers, but old habits die hard and I still had a repaired rear left indicator that I needed to keep an eye on as repairs numbers 1 to 3 hadn't lasted ore than about ½ an hour. This repair seemed to be holding ( and indeed held for the entire trip). the weather was overcast but not cold which was almost ideal riding weather as I didn’t overheat immediately upon stopping. Le Lac du Foret de Lorient, north east of Troyes. No comment… I rolled up at the campsite about 18:00, signed in and paid my dues (19€70 for bike and tent for 2 nights) and was attributed a pitch right next to this guy Needless to say it didn’t take long for him to come over and say hi. A brit who left home 5 years ago and on his way to the ferry home having covered 49 countries and 230,000miles in the meantime. Campsite I ate at the campsite restaurant and retired early. I probably snored loudly throughout the night but it didn’t disturb me and I woke the next morning surprisingly free of aches and pains. I made coffee on the wee primus gas thingy, which was my only concession to proper camping, having decided and budgeted for not having to try and cook stuff or carry the necessary gear. Most of the morning passed in a pleasant chat with the guy next door about his travels and I eventually got moving about 11:00. stopped at a supermarket for some fuel and a sandwich for later and headed out to Vaux fort Fort Vaux “speckled Jim”? The message carried by this pigeon reads (my translation) “We’re still holding out but are under gas attack and the smoke is dangerous. It is urgent to get us out. Send immediate visual message via Souville who are not replying. This is my last Pigeon.” reading this bought immediately to mind the scene from the Lord of The Rings in Moria, where Gandalf reads the last lines left by the dwarves as they were overrun. “Souville” was one of the secondary underground forts further back, and I will come back to this later as I found another unequivocal reference from LOTR… The fort de Vaux is up a dead end and on the way back to the main road, I saw a fingerboard sign pointing down a side road saying “fusillés de Tavannes” so I followed it. the white plaque at ground level in front of the hole reads (my translation) “mass grave where were found in December 44 the mutilated bodies of 16 patriot resistants massacred by the Germans” This was a 2nd war memorial and kind of made me realise that this area was geographically and therefore strategically pivotal and heavily fought over in both wars. I found a nice quiet shady spot to eat lunch, which had an almost rotten picnic table for me to use. I was sat quietly reading a book and chewing a sandwich when I realised that the quiet and calm was REALLY quiet. I don’t know how much of it is imagination and autosuggestion but it is a commonly repeated tale that in places such as these where death and horror have been prevalent for a period of time, nature remains silent and even the birds don’t sing. True or not, that was the impression I had, not of horror, or of fear but just of calm and complete silence...not even birdsong. Then I heard a tap-tap… taptaptap...tap-tap… and caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. I reached for the camera and that scared him off but sitting still for 5 minutes saw him back again a Nuthatch I think. @Specs? crap image cos I was almost on full zoom. Back at the bike I saw these go by, again 2nd war stuff, odd to see them out during the week, especially so late in the season when tourists are thin on the ground. this camera is really slow between shots and not good a shooting “from the hip” as it were. I rode from my lunch spot towards the fort de Douamont, which is along much the same lines as the Fort de Vaux but I wanted to properly visit one of them, the inside as well and old that Douamont was better maintained. Had I realised that the 4€ entrance fee gave entrance to both forts I would have done both… Before I got to Douamont I saw a gravel / dirt trail off to the left with a sign reading “Souville” This was a forest trail, clearly not frequented by hordes of tourists cars and certainly not any camper vans or buses. A quick look at the map suggested that it would be possible to cut through this track and come out to the other side and simply loop back north to Douamont. About ½ a kilometre along this trail I came across this The fort de Souville Fort souville was a communications centre and underground fortified tunnel network which managed to hold out even after the fall of both Fort Vaux and Fort Douament. There was heavy fighting here and daily bombardements between june and september 1916 with a ferocious german attack on 11th and 12thJune. This is the rear entrance I think and despite being forbidden to the public due to the dangerous state of the maconry and the colonisation of the ruins by a protected species of bat, there are absolutely no barriers or physical interdictions. I regretted having left my torch at the campsite in the tent cos it was absolutely totally black in there and when I approached the doorway I nearly jumped out of my skin when a couple of bats flew out and back in again. As I was alone and nobody knew where I was more precisely than “Verdun” I wasn’t about to go in there blind. I switched the camera flash on and took a pic into the passageway looking carefully at the pic I took I could just make out a large hole in the floor about 15 feet in. Bloody good job I didn’t go in there! “The way is shut. The dead keep it and they do not suffer the living to pass. The way is shut.” 2nd LOTR reference… Having bottled out of lying in the dark alone with a broken neck... I carried on down the track and came out into a layby on the road to Douamont. The look on the faces of the 5 or 6 camping car occupants having their picnics in the layby when I came out of the track was priceless. I turned Noth as planned and headed fro Douamont fort, passing the memorial to André Maginot and the Ossuary/ Necropolis, which I would come back to later. Douamont Fort I paid the 4€ entrance fee to visit the interior of this one. I probably should have accepted the offer of the audio guide as the signage was sparse to say the least but I got the gist. Underground and under heavy andprolonged attack and bombardment this place must have been a living hell compounded by the apparition of gas shells and the first “ flammenwerfer” used to great effect inside the tunnels by the besieged Germans during the French counter attack and eventual recapture of the fort. Dormitory access tunnel to a machine gun post Once outside again I walked around the Fort and came across the 3rd LOTR reference, a tapping sound made me look up and there was this thrush on the rock face… From the top of the fort looking east they had this gun turret that could be raised mechanically from below ground and rotate like a ships gun turret, one set of winding handles to raise and lower it and another to turn left or right. This is in the raised position. To the right in the photo is the lookout or spotters turret with it’s 4inch thick steel protective “hat” The spotters protective turret top obviously took some hits… In memoriam of the regiments of “Tirailleurs” from north Africa fighting under French colours. From there I went back to the Ossuary and cemetery The Ossuary it contains the mortal remains of 130,000 soldiers both French and German. The cemetery in front of it has a further 16,000 individual graves, each marked with a name, rank and regiment. From there I went a couple of km’s further down the road to the “Tranchée de Baionettes” (the bayonet trench) Here, legend has it, that the advancing germans came upon a line of bayonets projecting upwards from the ground and on investigation realised that it was a French trench buried by earth thrown up from an exploding shell and the soldiers had died, buried alive standing where they were, bayonets fixed and ready to go over the top. The general consensus of opinion is that this is fairly unlikely in reality and a more realistic tale tells of dead soldiers having been buried in hastily dug shallow graves in a line and their batonets stuck in the ground in guise of grave markers. Legends being far more romantic than reality, it is the legend that captured the public imagination and this line of semi mythical bayonet wielding soldiers dying upright armed and ready. A wealthy American subscribed to erect a monument to their memory and protect this mythical trench. The Inscription on the entrance reads: “To the memory of the French soldiers who sleep upright in this trench weapons in hand Their brothers from America” The 12th June, 2 battalions of French infantry held these slopes when the Germans began their attack supported by heavy artillery. 3 times they were repulsed. On the 14th June the remaining French positions, exhausted, starving and out of ammunition were overrun. 1 officer and 1 soldier made it back to HQ. The 137th infantry regiment lost 37 officers, 133 NCO’s and 1387 soldiers. Before the war, both Fort Vaux and Fort Douamont had the villages of Vaux and Douamont nearby. Both these villages were totally destroyed by bombardment and today in each place there are 2 villages. The villages were rebuilt nearby and the destroyed villages left as they were, remaining as real places with a mayor and village council but taking the names “Vaux destroyed” and “Douamont destroyed” respectively. I went to have a look at the village of “Douamont detruit” expecting to find ruins amongst bomb craters. There is, quite literally nothing there but hummocky grass slopes. This is destruction on a biblical scale (Matthew 24 verse 2) “...not one stone will be left upon another, every one will be thrown down.” This pic is taken from the village square where the high-street enters. You can just make out a couple of foundation stones buried in the earth but otherwise only craters. I started to head back towards Verdun, which was only about 15 minutes away and that brought the realisation that the war was so intense and so destructive in this part of France that there are literally hundreds of memorials and relics and sites within a few miles radius of the town (which was itself almost completely destroyed). Riding along a forest road and looking at the woods on both sides something seemed odd and it took me a while to figure out what it was. There are no big trees. Tall yes, but no girth. NONE of the trees here are 100years old! Not one! And the forest floor isn’t flat, or level, or evenly sloping, it’s tortured and hummocked and cratered over every single inch of terrain. That odd looking ditch alongside the road… it’s not a ditch, it’s a trench… men fought and died here, in their hundreds. It’s not a question of there being hundreds of monuments in the area, the ENTIRE area, every single square inch of it was a war zone and was bombarded into oblivion. This is an ariel photo of Fort Douamont before and after the battle of Verdun. At the beginning of the German offensive on Verdun they had 140,000 troops, 1,200 artillery pieces equipped with 2,5million rounds and had 1,300 ammunition trains to supply them further shells. The German air force also had 168 planes in the area. This was the largest scale attack in history. Facing them the French had a number of poorly equipped and ageing forts manned by 30,000 troops. On the 14th February 1000 German artillery guns opened up along a six mile line. 100,000 shells an hour for 10 hours. The battle of Verdun lasted for 300 days and 300 nights and by the end of it somewhere between 6 and 700,000 people had been killed. Much of the general terrain is still recognisable as battlefield due to the shell craters that overlap and run into one another leaving no ground flat or level but some of the trenches have survived and some are maintained as memorials but if you look closely they are everywhere. i went on from here to the Verdun Memorial Centre and was about to cough up the 16€ (!) for the tour when the girl behind the desk said that the tour lasts about 2 hours. That was going to push me beyond 7pm and I wanted to get back to the campsite, have a shower and a beer before feeding time, so I gave it a miss. I rode back to the site the long way round and arrived back in time for a decent shower and a beer and chin-wag with my neighbour before going back into town for a restaurant. -------------------- The next morning I was slow to heave my carcass out of the sleeping bag and by the time I’d got organised with coffee on the go my neighbour ( who, to be fair, has been doing this tenting lark rather more than I) had already nearly finished packing all his stuff away onto his bike and was ready to leave on his last leg to the ferry and home after 5 years away. We had a quick natter over more coffee and wished each other safe riding before he left. I packed my stuff up slowly, being in no particular rush and having no particular timetable or plan for the day except to get home, preferably before dark. I had read many years ago about the Saint Mihiel offensive of September 1918 which was the first to be made by the American 1st army under general Pershing, supported by the French on the western flank. Here Patton made a name for himself with his aggressive tank tactics and saw the first majour use of the United States Army Air Service. On the way there I saw a signpost to “ Eparges”… How could I have missed that in the planning stages of this trip? My mother in Law had given me a book for Christmas written by Maurice Genevoix all about the battle of “Eparges” and she had said to me that “Grandpére Gauthier” (my wife’s great grandfather) had died as a soldier in that battle. So I forked off and followed signs for Eparges and then “ Monuments” and came across the military cemetery. Having done various military cemetery’s in the Somme and Meuse areas I know they usually have a file or book somewhere listing the names of the soldiers buried there and a grid reference for each grave. This can avoid hours of searching in what can be huge cemeterys with thousands of graves. the book was behind a metal door set in the back of this pillar There was only one Gauthier listed. I rode up to the monuments, and back down. On to Saint Mihiel where I didn’t really find anything interesting so I must have missed something there. I stopped at a supermarket for fuel and picked up a sandwich. Phoned the Mrs to let her know what route ( ish) I planned on taking home and set off. Got home at 17:30 and went straight into the shower cos I’d been riding into the sun for the last 3 hours and was all hot and sweaty with the temps up in the high twenties. Overall I’d done 650km and the entire 3 day jaunt had cost me 160€ which includes fuel, camp site and food, despite restaurant feeding on the two evenings. The bike was, of course brilliantly faultless. My indicator repair had held up and I was pleasantly surprised at the lack of aches and pains following the nights in a tent.

Keith-Roy, the man I knocked out despite missing his face with my fist. As I said, one of life's c*nts. My bike club was camping at a place called Wormshill in Kent, this wanker had been plaguing me all day, especially as he got drunker. We were playing football, well the others were, I can't even kick it straight, and he thought it was hilarious to keep charging into my side and sending me flying a few times. The last but final time he caught me with an elbow on the ribs which hurt a bit so I said to him if he did it again I would do him a mischief. Trouble is, I am rubbish at anything like that. He took it as a challenge and barged at me before I'd even finished walking away so I swung my fist at the lovely target of his face and bloody missed, catching him across the throat with my forearm.. He fell over anyway and knocked himself out for about a minute. Only one person actually saw it, they were charging about after the ball, Keith (the priest), he said nothing. Everyone else thought he had just collapsed. I ran and got my camera and got a picture as they were checking him out. Unfortunately he woke up and crawled about a bit looking for his glasses and then sat at the side for a while. He lives in the wilds of Wales now....you're welcome to him. The picture is a photograph of a photograph on a pin board in the garage, hence the blue pin and the sliver of Alsation pup at the bottom (Leibe).

You've dipped out there Pete, you should have taken that jacket cos It's newer that that thing you wear..................

Yes, county cork. No internet till today. Current heading west in the wild Atlantic way. Sun is shining and it’s lovely. Some rather nadgery roads, my abs engaged, which was quite exciting.

Had the kids home for dinner yesterday so had a mad binge on the house as it's been a mess with decorating and kitchen cabinets etc. Only time I've seen the bikes is when squeezing past to get to something.

Seems im doing fuckalll this weekend so far...

Had a great ride today on the Himalayan. It was really rainy, which was awesome.....the gravel was great and the back roads were empty. I forgot how much I love riding in the rain....

'tis. but the point ia that I don't OWE it to anyone . if you think that's massive, wait till you see the ride report, the more I write the more pompous sounding and long winded it gets

Nice today, went for a ride, got tired pretty fast, came home...More pics of the caddy...

This is a story told to me by my late Mum about my Dad. Both my Mum and dad lived in the same road as children, Goresbrook Avenue in Dagenham, not far from the large Ford factory. Apparently when my dad was little, say 3 or 4, his much older brother was due to get married. It was late in the war so rationing was going on and a second hand suit had been purchased and was being lovingly repaired, ironed and prepared in the front room. My Grandad had cycled off early in the morning to the newsagent at The Heathway to get his Sunday paper. As he was pedalling back there was a large explosion that blew him off his bicycle, possibly a V1 or V2 nearby on the green. Unhurt he got back on and pedalled back home only to find the houses, including his, all missing their windows and doors. My Nan and my Dad were both still in bed when my Grandad left so he was in a panic that they had been hurt by the flying glass. When he jumped off his pushbike to run into the house he couldn't get up the stairs as the front door was wedged half way up and jammed at an angle there. He was calling out as he wrestled with the door to get past it before finally running into the back bedroom where my Dad should have been. He wasn't there so he went into the front bedroom and found my Nan and Dad in bed with glass all around them, but unhurt. There was a piece of metal buried in the wall just above the headboard. My Nan used to tell my Mum that my Dad had saved her life because he had come into the room complaining of belly ache whilst she was sitting up in bed with her head where the metal fragment would have hit. She had let him into the bed and they had both laid down in the hope he would go back to sleep not long before the explosion. My grandad was relieved until he checked out the rest of the house ands found the suit for the wedding had gone. He was convinced a neighbour had been in and stolen it whilst he was upstairs sorting everything out and clearing up glass so my Nan and Dad could get out of bed without slicing their feet up. The suit's location was revealed when the first fire of of Autumn was lit and smoke filled the room choking everyone. The pressure from the blast had sucked it up the chimney. Goresbrook Road today, the green (and the Gore stream) it faces is on the right.

Chemin de Souville, Verdun.

What an amateur! If he was a Jack he'd have got away with the wood, the LandRover and the security guard's wallet!

To follow on from this my father decided to have second attempt at getting some sheets of plywood, on this attempt he spotted the security guards land rover headlights approaching as he was half way across the site with a sheet of plywood, so to hide he lay in a cold damp tractor rut with the sheet of plywood on top of him. The security guard stopped right where he lay got out and patrolled the area with his flashlight then got back in his land rover and just sat there for the best part of an hour before he moved on. Again the old man came home empty handed too cold and wet to bother with the plywood

Out early......but still quite humid and sticky! Not sure where I went exactly because none of this is on Google Maps.......the devastation is getting harder to track now! After a while of following a road full of trenches it turned into a trail......and in the middle of nowhere I found a block of abandoned houses. They were all sealed so no access, but I followed it round the end of the block and there were more...... And there was access to these! Bad state though......plus I had to be on guard against 3 foot Dago Sodomites as per @boboneleg's advice! Fortunately there were no such rectum-stretching horrors to endure......this time! But in the future who knows what dangers I might face trying to add quality content to this site - while the rest of you languish in the house with only pitiful excuses to offer! Then it was back on the road (of sorts) to try and find my way back to civilisation. Of sorts! It's now coming up to a year with this bike, and I'm still very happy with it. No thoughts on changing it.......because for the riding that I do it's a perfect fit. Waiting for temps to get down to early and mid 20's then I'll be going further afield! Because for me, the riding season is just about to start!

Now at Killarney and we’re going to stay here until Thursday morning, came over Mills gap and it’s pass, that’s the road from kenmare north into the national park, which was really nice. But obviously a Sunday so a lot of trippers. Normal workday tomorrow onwards so should be much better. Probably Dingle peninsula tomorrow, Ring of Kerry on Tuesday and Ring of Beara on Wednesday. Back of an envelope plan. More photos from tomorrow as today was mostly about getting here. One of the lads got to stand in the Atlantic!! Exciting. Anyway 18:45. Tents are up and shortly a walk to the pub/carvery along the road. We’re a little way out of Killarney. Quiet campsite, set back from the “ring of Kerry road” - I’m tired. 551 road miles from my front door, a lot of the roads today have been quite nadgery, narrow lanes with grass up the middle. It’s been fun. Despite the damp start.

We’re here having a break and taking in the view. Bantry then onto Killarney where we will be staying a few days.

Trying to talk Mandi into getting out for a bit. Not going well as her condition is in a flare up. Joints hurting etc. Maybe a poodle round in the car then.

When I first got involved with the bike club here there was a guy from Avallon who, at the age of 55 had never been further a-field than Dijon. he came with us to Strasbourg, to the Jura mountains, to the atlantic coast, the Puy de Dome, and so on and so forth. Each time he was like a little kid with a new toy, had no idea the country was so big or so varied...

After 12 hours yesterday I've not far off finished the new site I'm doing, so I'll be out today!

Rainy Day View

Summer Days Gone By As the warm days of summer start to fade into cooler evenings and crisp mornings in the northern hemisphere, I thought it would be fun to do a short video to capture the feeling of the sun in the forest and the wispy clouds rolling by on those warm summer days that have now gone by.

Thanks Pete, I do quite a bit of research before I go on these sorts of visits, cos I like to understand what I'm looking at and I like to know what I'm going for though the "Eparges" episode was fortuitous. Lack of research at fault there. it's also easy to fill in the gaps in ones knowlege once you get back home, internet is a wonderful tool for that.

well at least it keeps us moving , and back on it tomorrow

"Ring of Kerry". And you had to take the bikes to get round it. The mind boggles.

If you don't have a torch and it's dark in there, throw some stones in there first to see if there's any movement. Doesn't bother me one bit.......cos I'm a thrillseeker! The more risk, the more I like it! And at my age......what have I got to lose? Not even the phrase "Life in Prison" holds any fears for me now. But I gotta say that I think this is the best Ride Report we've had on here since we started. The background information you provided is quite amazing! Brilliant trip and report......and this looks like the type of place I'd like to visit! If I can ever escape from this town!

That's nothing, you should meet a rural mouth breather from shit nowhere Canada....... I've got that covered......we have losers here too......lol

I'm sure Canada has it's fair share of mongs like this as well, i know Spain has at least one from Swansea there

That's very true Dave! But fortunately this is a motorcycle forum not a kitchen cabinet forum. So your observations are not relevant in this case!

I did check it out Bob.....looked a bit small for me! Probably the property of one of those 3ft Sodomites!

Nice one Fred, how many fag stops did you have for Yoshi or has he given up the tabs now

Me and Strange Dave on the right just after finishing our first Cambrian Rally, me on a borrowed Honda CRM 250. Borrowed an hour before the start because I broke my DR. Strange Dave crashed into the back of me when I suddenly stopped after realising I was off the marked track and in a live firing area and we both went flying. I told him to turn and ride back, then I made sure to follow at a safe distance and only where he had already ridden. Three northern bikers who came and rescued me and Colin (Lazy Eye) when we were in a Glossup pub with fights breaking out every 10 minutes. The man on the left walked over and asked if we were here for the Great Northern Bike Show in Manchester. he then said we could come to his corner, we'd be safe there as they 'took' it last week. They met us the next morning and led us all the way to the show.

Randoms Me in Ireland demonstrating how quiet the roads are. Me on Pendine Sands, attempting to break the land speed record, which is apparently what people do there.

Me on the left next to Keith, the man who later became (and still is) a priest. Also the man who started the fight with three blokes on the train that got me a broken nose and him a broken jaw. I loved those jeans of mine. Snow was not forecast when we set out for the rally we are at. Same rally. Keith on the left. Martin on the right sitting on his gas board blue GS750. He is also the bloke I was helping yesterday to extract a TS250 from the collapsed shed. Kevin (Wombat) on the left. Martin on the GS and behind him a bloke called Keith-Roy (a proper proper cunt). I have a picture of Keith-Roy unconscious on my garage wall right now, my only successful knock out. No skill, I missed his head when trying to punch him in the face, which jarred my shoulder joint badly, BUTt my forearm went across his throat and he fell over backwards and knocked himself out. Keith and Wombat next to my CX

The man who taught me to ride a motorbike on the left, Kevin (Wombat) with his recently bought Honda Silverwing. The bloke standing like a gonk to the right is Colin (lazy eye) the man who was in the T.A. later and persuaded me to have my bottom violated by the doctor. Also the bloke who had all his flat emptied by a vengeful wife. Colin (Lazy eye) again when we went paintballing. I believe that is actually Vandal from the scrap yard in the overalls behind him, he came along a few times.

My old girlfriend's dad in the left, the man with the racist name N***er. The man who shat his trousers and tried to walk home from Maldon in new shoes. The only picture I have of him and not a very good one either. He is standing next to a bloke who always seemed to be in trouble with the police but they could never pin anything on him. In the end he did 6 months in Pentonville for continually driving on a ban. My 1st GPz750 sitting next to N***er's dog kennel where his two Alsations lived. Had to get it there by wobbling through a gravel drive that never ever got compacted. The poxy gravel drive in front of his bungalow, his yard and garages were behind it. Next door to the right was a mobile crane yard. The bedroom window on the right was my girlfriends and one morning whilst everyone was still asleep a dopy crane driver managed to cause his driverless mobile crane to roll through the concrete fence. he managed to get in the cab and kill the engine just before it demolished the corner of the house. The grass was very torn up with deep ruts afterwards.

Found some old photos, not very good but all I have. Scrap yard pictures My boss Vandal on his spectroscope (aka Little Frank). The man who bought the sex toy then went off sick with a severed tendon. Vandal (Little Frank) annoyed that I am taking a picture when I should be working. Some bloke I took a picture of down by the river side end of the yard. No idea who he is at all Tony the yard foreman on my favourite forklift.

We had a day out, (escaping the rain in the Eifel) and went to the ossuary, I was trying to explain to the lads what (from memory) happened at the battle of Verdun) it wasn’t a battle in any kind of a traditional sense. It was about killing as many french soldiers as possible - there was no other aim. There are areas that are so polluted with ordnance they can never in our lifetime be farmed. And everywhere there are bodies or parts of bodies… the graveyard and ossuary are one thing, but the entire area of the battle is and will remain one huge mass grave.

Good comeback

he hardly smokes at all now I don't think i saw him have one yesterday

That is so similar to where i live but obviously on a much larger scale, i think Canada is one of the few places i could live without feeling homesick

It might be a blassing in diguise though Chris, you may end up having a job that's much easier on your body

Hi Harley Lady, good to have another Harley rider here as the we’ve got at the moment is a bit dodgy