Fishface Fran and the Lands End run

worldfamous · Fishface Fran and the Lands End run

The vintage run Bodmin to Lands End.
(a tale of missed breakfast’s and an old bastard on a Douglas)

7th June 09.

Some of us had breakfast at Andy’s, I thought I wasn’t invited cos I rode the Enfield but it turned out that Vinnie wasn’t invited either. Never mind whilst the breakfast feast was being gobbled up by SJ and Jake, Vinnie arrived at the railway station immediately thinking he had the wrong place luckily a few old bike began to turn up and he felt better, even more so when he learned he’d missed breakfast. I turned up a little later in misty rain on the café racer and Jake immediately christened me ‘Agostini Fran’ (a little more of Agostini Fran later). I guess there where about sixty or so old bikes ranging from an old Humber to an old Guzzie with a sprinkling of BSA’s Triumph’s, Norton’s with a few Douglas’s thrown in. of course their were many other makes but these took my eye and the two Douglas’s made our day but more of that later.

It does not seem right but each year a few more of the Oriental bikes turn up and rightly so within their own classification of a classic machine. I saw representation from Yamaha, Kawasaki, a beautiful Suzuki T500 and three or four Honda’s. But to be honest it’s the old bikes that people come out to see. Its great to see different types of condition from immaculate rebuilds to complete originals and it’s even greater to see the old guys chatting about their machines to one and sunder.

The vintage run set off on three routes and SJ left a little later taking the coast route. Fearing the Harleys would leave me behind I set off after the older bikes catching them up between Wadebridge and Padstow. Not too long after the familiar rumble of the Harleys where behind me growling their way down the coastal highway. We arrived at a filling station in Newquay the one that over looks Crantock marshes where the older machines took on logs when Vinnie invited us to his place for a cuppa and a garibaldi biscuit. Then we were off again heading for Portreath via Perranporth and skirting the top of St Agnes.

It was pasty time at Portreath and time to natter to anybody that would talk with us. Colin and his shiny 883 sportster joined us but alas no sign of Penzance Bob or Trev, cloudy skies and all that. The old bikes set off for Lands End with us in hot pursuit about five minutes behind. As we entered Hayle we came across the two Douglas’s machines one of which was having problems with its chain and real wheel assembly. ‘Spanner’ aka SJ leaped into action and rescued the day. The two riders ancient in their own right thanked us and asked if we knew the way. SJ immediately volunteered my services and then the fun began. The rider of the bike that had had the problems told me to take it steady that his bike only does a max of 42 MPH. Odd I thought such a precise speed but there you go, I surrendered to his senior years and took this into account.

We left Hayle in two groups. I was leading the elderly Douglas machines and SJ bringing up the rear with the Harleys. I took the Levant road avoiding St Ives and then headed towards Pendeen.

I met SJ and his gang on the windy coast road and he noticed I was alone. He asked ‘where the old guys are’ I said ‘I don’t know one escaped and the other couldn’t keep up’. SJ said ‘Fuck me Fran you only had to look after two of em’. I replied ‘I know but the 42 MPH Douglas was pushing me all the way and eventually over took me and the campervan I was slowing down for on a blind corner at that’! SJ said ‘your fuckin useless, one job that’s all you had to do, Right’! He said ‘you catch Kenny Roberts and we’ll look for the other one’.

So with my tail between my legs I thundered after the escapee. I soon could see him in the distance but he was taking no prisoners and passing everything in his sight. I tell you 50 or 60 MPH on the coast road from St Ives to St Just is no mean thing especially with poor brakes. Anyway I caught up with him near Zennor and tailed him into Botallack. I could not help but noticed that he kept the throttle wide open and just used his rear brake for corners and any car foolish enough to be in his way. I eventually passed him on the hill going into St Just and thought ‘game on you old bastard’ and raced him to Lands End. Well that was the intention!

Coming out of St Just and turning right to go to Sennen and then the last mile or so to Lands End he went straight on towards Penzance. So I anchored up and thought where is the crazy fool going now. (Apparently he was going too quick and could not take the turn). After a few moments he was back on the scene so with the bit between my teeth determined he would not pass me again I revved the tits off my poor Enfield. Agostini Fran pushed his arse back to the rear of his seat almost lying on the tank and threw it in to each and every corner like a man possessed and gunned it towards the worlds end.

When I seen the old geezer again it was at Lands End and I said to him ‘your bike goes faster than 42 MPH’. He replied ‘no it doesn’t, it always stays at 42 MPH’. ‘Yeah’ I grinned and walked to look at the other bikes. Later I looked at his speedo and he was right it goes no faster than 42 MPH, only because the lens is buckled and the needle cannot go any further, I told him this and he winked! Old bastard I thought and grinned with him.