After having an operation for a hernia in late November I have had to take it a bit easy as it heals. I’ve got a lovely smile on me belly now mind. If you want to see it girls, its half a quid. As I write 12 weeks later it can still give me one up if I overdo it or set meself a bit awkward. So, it has been a bit quiet on the Land Rover and the mountain bike scenes, but there has been a change in the posh car front and the 2 off roaders.
The 39-year-old Classic Range Rover Camel has been sold.
Yes, I know how could I do it Boo Hoo and all that? It was just simply that when I was upstairs, and I looked out onto the yard I was looking at 2 Land Rovers and a new Ford Ranger. I am the only driver, and I can only drive one car at a time so one had to go. The last time I used the Camel off road on Salisbury Plain I damaged it, and its too good for doing that to it, so I felt I had to choose that as the one to go.
The “posh car” being whichever is the one I have apart from the off road Disco2 TD5 for driving the present Mrs Thorn wherever she wishes to go. For just over a year I have had a new Ford Ranger and we have done 5,000 miles in it, but it was starting to bug me a bit. Awkwardly long which was only a problem getting it into the miniscule spaces available in shops/restaurants etc on those narrow white markings they mark out to get the max number of cars crushed in together. I always felt it was vulnerable to getting a smack, stuck out way past all the other cars. However the main thing that really got up me snout (and let’s face it mines long enough) was that I thought/hoped I would be buying a car with a useful truck back on the rear end. But not so my muddy chums. It turned out to be a truck with a car stuck on the front end the way it drove. In the end it was really getting to me with those cart springs on the bum end. A lot of the chaps told me “stick some weight in the back of it that should cure it”. But these days living on too many small pensions due to the fact that I was one for if I was not happy, telling them to stick their job up their arse and legging it, I am only interested in as many MPGs I can coax out of any motor now.
My last job before I retired was at my local Ford Dealership Trust Ford. So, I cleaned the truck up, and took it back to see my super salesman mate Chris Papakyriacou coz I knew he would see me right. If you practice you can say his name fast after a few tries. Any road up looking at Ford 4x4s I fancied a Kuga. No need to think about driving it off the road, that’s what the Discovery 2 is for. A big Land Rover mate Barry Evans has one and he rates it highly so I was taking a look at the Kugas. We couldn’t do a deal to suit us, and then I saw a bigger Ford 4X4 outside with a massive discount on the recommended retail price splattered on the windscreen. It was a pre-registered Ford Edge. We did the figures again and with a part chop I was up for buying it. It turns out they had been trying to sell it for 10 months, and I reckon it was because of the unusual colour which they call Premium Electric Spice. In the log book the DVLA say it’s orange. Oh no it bloody aint mate. It changes in the light as the day goes by, its sort of yellow and gold and mustard and custard, but it’s kinda grown on us and we don’t mind it so much now after a few weeks and we like it, but it sure does stick out, like a diamond up a goat’s arse.
A few weeks after the op me Surgeon Delila discharged me and told me to man up and stop being a pussy (my kinda Gal), and she said I could start riding me bike after another couple of weeks. I gingerly cruised round the block on it in between walks, and slowly built up. And then one day I just had it on me, and I had to get out back on the tracks and unleash hell. I went a bit over the top (which isn’t very typical of me is it) and did 31 miles? When I got home I was a bit wobbly. So, I just shut the bike in the garage all covered in mud, lobbed all me filthy clothes on the garage floor, and in the nuddy holding onto the bannister (that’s not a euphemism) weaved up the stairs, and showered and bathed meself. Hazel brought me up a sugary snack and some tea and I was soon back right, and surprisingly I didn’t feel too bad. At last I was back in the game on the bikes.
Lastly as I write on Sunday night 25/Feb/18 they keep on banging about this storm coming our way called The Beast. This is when our 4X4s come into their own. I know you won’t forget any of your old neighbours who will not be able to get out if it snows and give them a knock and make sure they are nice and warm. But as for all the other twats who shake their heads at ya and say to you “what have you got that bloody great big thing for”, tell them to feck off and laugh as they tramp miles in the snow up to the empty shops to beg for food. Is that a bit spiteful do ya think? Ah sod um.