TALES FROM THE SHED

A tale of three halves. There is good news – hurrah. I shall deal with that first. Then I shall consider the other thing. Maybe more than one other thing. This is the problem with having too many motorcycles, most of which demand attention most of the time. But before the first thing, I must mention the tinny Triumph – possibly the best-ever motorcycle of all time.

I can reveal that I have been inventing excuses to take the Blazer for a blast – every day that the roads aren’t actually sodden and there’s enough light to stand a chance of spotting a large pothole before riding into it – I rattle off in search of adventure. Adventure is elusive, however. Quite possibly adventure moves faster than a Triumph Blazer SS, although that is surely impossible.

Certainly unlikely.

Before the Blazer, I must also mention the noble AJS 16, quite possibly the best-ever motorcycle of all time. I can’t remember the last time this popped up in these pages, but several folk have asked me how it’s been running. So…

So, as the fuel tank for the Sunbeam of less than entirely fond memory had gone off for the skilled and not entirely inexpensive services of John the painter (who turns out to be called Dave, which is mysterious in itself), and because life with just a Triumph to provide thrills and derring-do would be one long roar of laughter… and because it was raining, I decided that I should drag the AJS from under its cover and replace the sadly bent centrestand. Had you