As it transpired, I'd have a pillion, which meant that the single seat chop wouldn't perhaps be the most appropriate mode of transport, looking around the workshop I pondered, hmmm, half finished lowrider, nahhh, the fighter needs soooo much work.. naah, hmmm . pulling aside a pile of dusty granny crotcheted blankets ? there's me old standard FJ12, last seeing service spitting me down the road three years ago on the way to the farmyard.

Charge the battery and it fired into life, yet another reason I love these engines, more bashing of the big Krauser panniers, ooooh, luxury, I can take my smoking jacket and slippers and the bike was perfectly serviceable, apart from a very slightly grumbly collector box..

Mentioning Stormin' to anyone this year, generally in the context of "Are ye gaun ?" elicited the reponse that it would depend on the weather. I was at Stormin' last year and surprise, surprise I lived to tell the tail, it would seem that the conservationists claims that we are suffering from the effects of acid rain must be true, and if we go out in the rain the hydrosulphiric acid in the rain will melt us all until we consist only of a small pile of slightly discoloured mush. Remember folks "No such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes"

Frankly, JD has reduced me to the same mush on many occasions regardless of my attire and I've survived, I made a last minute assault on my local farm supplies shop swapping £30 earth pounds for some 100% waterproofs, I could have shelled out £400 on some Heinz Garlicky Crudura outfit, however, after seeing the evidence in Europe this year of the complete not-wateryproofness of said articles in a 180 mile dash from Germany to Belgium through a Belgian torrent, (these differ from other torrents in that they are not funny and have a tendancy to fettle with children),  I decided the investment was about as sound as one from Lehmann Brother’s Bank

Thursday morning Karen and myself headed off to be melted by acid rain which, was comin' down like stair rods, and didn't let up until Corebridge. As it transpired, getting the f*ck out of Scotland this weekend was the eminently sensible thing to do seeing as it royally pished it down mercilessly for the entire weekend all over Scotland.

This plan was all the sweeter as everyone who attended enjoyed amazing weather at Stormin' over the whole weekend, one of the benefits of last year's situation and the hysterical fear of rain afflicting some people meant that the career whingers stayed at home, result....

This may all sound like preaching, well yes it may well be, but it's a product of listening to some of these aforesaid whinging gits after last year, forgive may catharsis I'll mention it no more.... yeh right ! :-)

Arriving at the site we pitched up and headed off to catch up with the committee, i.e. those fifteen or so people who give up two weeks of their life, take holidays from work to organise Stormin' not to mention the 130 marshalls who give up their time too.

The Engine Bar is traditionally where everyone chills out on the Thursday having toiled all week so that all attending can have a great time. Details beyond this point are, sketchy, at best, the fact that Rick appeared, pockets bulging, one with Poitin (Potcheen) and one with Absynthe, ergo, taxi fur Oblivion! may explain the lack of detail, I have this horrible but vague recollection around Rick profferring ‘man-fudge’, whetever that is !!

remember kids, drink responsibly !, I've never actually tasted this 'Responsibly' stuff, is it a liqueur or some kind of barley/hop based beverage or pehaps a new strain of tea. ?

WTF is this this wittering pish ?