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I was born in Gorton but our family moved to the Wythenshaw council estate when it was first built, (Then known as (The Overspill) hmmmm. good name for a band that, Yep. that's right the original 'Lawless brat from a council flat Ho Ho', We moved to Cheadle Hulme when I was 5. After completing almost 10 years of truancy I found my true vocation in life, I became a member of the Manchester chapter of the "Hells Angels", (I had owned an old Francis Barnett 125cc. motorbike since I was 10 yrs. old and used to ride it round the fields, so this was the life for me, pissing in pint pots and drinking it, (unless it was an Angels party), in which case if anyone wanted to to piss have a crap or be sick then it was done in the bath, the idea being that if anyone crashed out at the party they went for a bath to wake them up, (not many people used to crash out at Hells Angel parties).
I was always small in stature but made up for it by being a total f*****g madman when on my bike which by that time had been upgraded from a 200cc. Tiger Cub to 650 Triumph Bonneville Chopper complete with custom air cooled racing engine, This machine along with a complete lack of any sense of danger ensured I was always at the front of the pack when out on "Sunday runs", These were arranged during the week and members of different clubs and chapters would meet at a selected coffee bar, Skyways, Ten Ten, The Cool Spot, Mac Snacks, Hells Angels H.Q., There would be over 200 powerful bikes attended these runs and the sound when they all started up at once sent a shiver down your spine, Once underway this beast could not be stopped by anyone (including the police), Cars would see us in their mirrors and pull over until we passed. On our return to our base, (usually after a day out over in Matlock Bath), there used to be a challenge which if you were crazy enough you would have a go at, it was this:
The challenger would be outside the pub with his bike warmed up and ready to go, The entire contents of pub and coffee bar (they were opposite each other) would empty out on to the street, Inside the coffee bar a shilling would be placed in the jukebox and the moment a record was selected a relay was sent outside and the participant would depart normally on one wheel and a cloud of burning rubber, What you had to do was this: start from outside the "Skyways, (on Ringway Rd.) down Styal Rd. passed the prison, Down a very steep and dangerous winding section at the bottom turn round and come back, all before the record ended, The total milage as calculated from our friend Google Earth is about 4.2 miles and believe me this was no mean feat, If you have Google Earth on your system you can veiw the actual route by inputing the co-ordinates shown at the bottom of this page.
I always remember once the contender had gone, there was always total silence, Only the muffled sound of the record playing from inside the coffee bar, Always one of three things ensued, 1. If the guy returned and the record had already finished the crowd remained in silent disapproval and you could hear a pin drop, 2. somewhere after departure you would hear Police / Ambulance sirens, Meaning the contender was either dead or seriously injured in which case everyone would go back inside the coffee bar and carry on as if nothing had happened, (To fail in any way was not an option, 3. The sound of the returning bike while the record was still playing resulted in a heroes welcome, massive cheers and applause, This was followed by a ceremony where you were awarded the coveted "No Chicken" badge.
This was a very difficult and extremely dangerous task to perform and the best times as success depended not only negotiating country roads with tricky bends at very high speeds Also there were other factors involved like weather, other traffic and of course your machine. People did actually die in the process. As the death toll and serious injuries began to pile up this insane practice came to an end and all but forgotten, During the the time of this insanity I was constantly cajoled to have a go, I certainly had a bike which was more than capable, and as I mentioned I was normally up with the pack leaders on the Sunday runs, However there was a difference, you did not have to take chances on the runs, I thought about it on many occasions but always resisted the temptation, that is until October 1968, After thinking it through I decided to have a go at it and as was customary I stood on a table and to everybody's delight announced my intention, I think maybe this was my first taste of being on stage!!!.
I went outside followed by a cheering crowd (no attempt had been made at this for over a year), I was proud of my bike I had custom made it myself over a period of two years, Everything on it was chrome apart from the metallic red frame and petrol tank which sported flames and on each side bore the legend "Wild Honey", funny that coz I f*****n hated The Beach Boys, I sat waiting for the coin to drop, I can remember even to this day the sound from the exhaust pipes and the twin carb's sucking the air in, don't get yer bollocks near them I used to think, It was a mean b*****d, I had made sure the engine was well tuned and I been over the run a few times over the last few days, why was I reviving this madness and why was I so confident?
The coin dropped and my mate Dave made the selection, Outside the signal given to go and I gunned it full on I thought my arms were gonna come out there sockets, ( It may have been something to do with the 30% mix of aviation fuel my mate had acquired from Woodford Aerodrome, I cannot remember if that journey took me one hour or one second all I know is when I pulled up outside Skyways the record was still playing with time to spare, The crowd were dumbfounded some were clapping laughing and cheering but some were annoyed, I just got off my bike walked back into Skyways to order a coffee and listen to the last bit of "Hey Jude" Na Na Nah Nahhhhh….Hey Jude, F**k off where's me badge?..............
You can "Ride" the route on google Earth just input the co-ordinates from "The Skyways" lat=53.3646635023, lon=-2.24366541617, and then to: "The Turn Point" lat=53.3363218652, lon=-2.2420785422.
This little ditty is just one of my websites crazy but true stories, I didn't call the band "The Ride for nothing yah know!!!!!
Ride On Brothers.
P.s. has anyone figured out why I completed this dangerous task with time to spare?, email me your comments, I promise all emails are answered in person, or please leave a message with your answer in my guestbook:
