Well, India 2nd time around was even better; now for reality. Sunday,I go to Newark autojumble as usual. Parts for old m/cycles don't just grow in the garden and its enjoyable just looking.I see a rusty,pitiful looking thing minus its back wheel and covered in pigeon paint.The seller is repeatedly starting it for potential buyers.I emphasise repeatedly, i.e reliably -a concept often a stranger in my shed... I look and walk away 3 times, trying to talk sense to myself, besides I don't have the money.
Unfortunately I bump into a mate who's flush. One lend later and I am the owner of a 1981 KE 125 field bike.Just How Did This Happen? I've been home 2 bloody days. The Curse Of Too-Many-Projects causing rising anxiety levels again and then I go and buy this, to go with the other 12 refugees from hope. Its not "I must be.." I am, mad. Still its my first ever Kawasaki I s'pose.I meet my dad (its his fault -he's a compulsive "bargain hunter" too) and slowly push the Kwack with some threaded bar through the clanking,tyre-less wheel,in freezing,driving rain back to my van. Welcome Home Boy.
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