****ing Scooter Riders

Today I had to travel to Kendal. Marginal weather or so I thought, wrong choice, should have taken the car as it turned out. On the way back I decided to go up the A6 over Shap to Penrith instead of retracing my route through the Lakes due to the skies beginning to look even more doubtful. Whilst stopped for a brew a very nice looking late 1960's Lambretta went past coughing and spitting a bit, but not knowing how they normally sound I didn't give it a second thought. Back on the road and a few miles further my nose was assaulted by the smell of hot metal and an oily streak appeared on the tarmac. Ease off the revs, watch the road, keep away from the slick etc. Just round the next bend, same Lambretta stopped on the road side with rider looking a bit un-chuffed to say the least, so, like a Good Samaritan I pull up and ask if he needs any help. The response "what the ***k's it got to do with you!!!" was not exactly what I expected from a gentleman of similar age to myself. "Fair enough" said I and so left the left the 'sock cooker' miles from nowhere with no mobile signal, in the worsening weather, and a longish walk to the nearest civilisation. I fully appreciate that he was just 'slightly miffed' that his Italian two stoke pride and joy was a bit broke he didn't need to be such an ignorant t*** and could have said "it's ok mate" or something similar. Nuf said, no more Good Samaritan unless of course its a fellow biker in dire straits.

 

That's it, got it one.