The days of the Gamma men

I sit at my PC looking at the sport section of MCN, for me personally the only section worth reading.

The reason, like many of your readers, is because I used to road race. In the days of the Lc/gamma/rgv many men, and the odd woman, would take to the battle fields on a cold and wet March day- snett, brands, cadwell- all full of cf bedfords.

After a greasy breakfast you would then try to befriend a scrutiner so your crash damaged Lc had more chance of passing through scrutinering.

The collecting area, then the start line, cut engines, the starter raises the union jack and with the silence shouts “whatch the lights” heart rate pounding, red, green, kick, go.

With pages of the mcn placed between your chest and leathers to keep out the wind you would try to make the first corner carnage on cold tyres, if you made that you had 6 laps of hellbent crazy poeple trying to smash, kick and knock you off the track.

Why? why the hell did i like so many others put our parents, bank managers and girlfriends through so much self distruction and self indulgence for such very little reward?

Tis for me these reasons I look back with foundness; the silence and stillness of the track on race day at 7am, the smell of castroll R, the compertition, comardery between riders, the bullshit that was told in abundance was quality.

I also remember a little fella with a MK 1 Suzuki Gamma called Chris Dabbs and his glemming white pair of Gearne boots, happy daze indeed.