D-Day 80 Years On. Remembering Heroes.

Ten years ago I published this post and re-posted it five years later; I’m not sure where that time has gone… A lot has happened since then.

Tomorrow is the 80th Anniversary of D-Day and various events are happening to commemorate and remember the sacrifices made in those dark days. It seems fitting to revisit the post it in a slightly edited form. I do hope that you enjoy it and spare a moment to remember those who gave so much for freedom.

When Harls and I visited Normandy early in 2014 we were privileged to be able to view some of the famous D-Day beaches and contemplate the events of 80 years ago, when the liberation of Europe from Nazi dictatorship began. Much is said about the actual landings on the beaches, but I mentioned then about the contribution that airborne troops also made to the operation. Sometimes I feel that this vital contribution is not given the full focus that it deserves, because without it the whole operation would not have been the success that it was.
I am not decrying what happened on the beaches, merely drawing attention to the oft forgotten massive contribution by the airborne operation

In the hours leading up to D-Day itself, 6th June 1944, 13,000 allied airborne troops either parachuted into occupied Normandy or arrived by glider under cover of darkness. They had set out from fifteen airfields across southern England and crossed over the English Channel in a massive stream of 220 aircraft that was described as being nine aircraft wide and five hours long. Soldiers from all of the Allied Nations were involved, but the majority were British and American.

Let me tell you a little about one of those American soldiers.

Daniel L. Reiling was a classic Mid-Western American kid, he didn’t have the easiest of starts in life, he never knew his father and at times living was a little tough. Determined to get on in life he joined the U.S Army as a career soldier. He progressed well through the ranks and married a good-looking girl from Chicago, named Florine, whose father owned restaurants and whose mother came from Britain.
By the time that the war in Europe was raging Daniel was a Sergeant in the 502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment. Soon he found himself and his men crossing the Atlantic to Britain on a troop-ship which constantly zig-zagged to dodge the deadly threat of Nazi U-boats. On arrival in the U.K. the troops were posted to various locations for more training and preparations. Some lucky ones managed to get leave, which Daniel did and took the opportunity to visit his wife’s family, though by all accounts the poor chap was suffering from influenza and spent a fair bit of his leave in bed being looked after by his wife’s Uncle, my Grandfather William. You see now that there is a big family connection here!

Following his leave, Daniel returned to his unit and began the final preparations for the Liberation of Europe. His regiment was allocated to two airbases, RAF Membury and RAF Greenham Common. Unfortunately, we have not been able to ascertain yet exactly which one Daniel’s platoon was at.

On the evening of 5th June 1944 the various airfields involved swung into action. At Greenham Common, General Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied Commander, dropped in to encourage the troops. IMG_0343Men and equipment were prepared and loaded onto the C-47 transport aircraft which at the assigned time taxied to the runways and began to take off. Sergeant Daniel L. Reiling and his men would have been dressed in full combat kit armed with a variety of weapons, they sat in total darkness inside the noisy vibrating fuselage of the C-47 as it took off and turned South towards Normandy.IMG_0342Once over the French coast the pilots took the aircraft down to the jumping altitude of 500 feet.
The green jump light came on at 00:48 and Daniel threw himself out into the Normandy night, landing in a field near to Saint Martin de Varreville and set about making life difficult for the occupying German force.

By 06:30 St Martin had been captured and shortly after the German garrison at Mésières was taken as well. Five days later the town of Carentan was liberated after fierce fighting that included a bayonet charge. The 502nd then moved to assist in the capture of Cherbourg before stepping down for regrouping and rest, before rejoining the war and fighting their way across Europe, finally capturing Hitler’s private residence and many senior Nazis at Berchtesgaden in May 1945.

By the end of the conflict Daniel had been promoted to Master Sergeant and shortly after was promoted to Sergeant Major, one of the youngest in the Army. Later he was to see action in Korea and became an officer, finally rising to the rank of Major.

During WWII and the Korean War, Daniel was in a total of 13 major campaigns. In all that fighting he was wounded once in the leg during the Ardennes offensive near Bastogne, but never received the Purple Heart. He won two Bronze and one Silver Star plus several other wartime decorations.

Sadly, he died young in January 1969. I guess you could say he lived a full life, a real American hero, a John Wayne kind of guy. In our family we are all incredibly proud of him; none more so than my cousins, Peter and Marianne.

I have been able to visit the remains of both RAF Membury and Greenham Common. There’s not much left at either place to recall events of 80 years previously.

There is however, another old base about 60 miles away from the former Dookes H.Q. that also played a prominent role in that airborne assault, RAF Upottery. There is still quite a lot to see here. Ten years ago this evening I took the opportunity to make a pilgrimage with Harls and my late little brother Greg to the old airfield, to remember the events that unfolded on that fateful night 80 years ago.

It was a super evening to be on a motorcycle and riding through the beautiful Devon countryside I pondered if it was like this all those years ago?

The old airbase was quiet and still and much has reverted to farmland, though the runways, control tower and a few other buildings remain. P1010774Just by luck we met the local farmer who not only owns the land now, but gave us permission to go on the site.

It was with some awe that I turned Harley onto the main runway, the strip of concrete and tarmac from which 81 C-47’s took off, this was hallowed ground indeed!

It seemed fitting that an American motorcycle was visiting the place where so many young American soldiers took off, some never to return.

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In some places the grass is beginning to win.

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After spending some time soaking up the atmosphere, we decided to leave the ghosts of the past to enjoy the sunset. As we rode off the airfield we were aware of other people who were gathering to pay their respects as well. DSCF3394

Stopping to chat with one guy he observed that we have much to be thankful for, we have indeed; like a super ride home west into a crimsoning sky on a growling Harley Davidson! I’d like to think that those young paratroopers would have approved!

Dookes

The battle patch of the 502nd.

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Dedicated to all those who came by air in 1944.

And in loving memory of Greg, Paul and Florine.

What We Do For Love

This blog is supposed to be about the my travels on my Harley Davidson motorcycles and to be honest, of late they haven’t featured very much.
Our move from one end of the UK to the other, Cornwall to Caithness has had a lot to do with that….not to mention that my beloved Softail, Harls, remained behind when we moved, waiting for me to collect her at a suitable date in the future.

Well that date has arrived!

I’m currently in Lancashire just over 300 miles from Cornwall and 450 still to go back to Caithness….and yes Harls is with me!

It’s Harls! Looking a bit road stained in the Lancashire rain.

We hit the road yesterday and wow, was it good to be sitting in her saddle again!
It had been a while since I last rode her, September last year to be honest, since then she has safely resided in my friend Peter’s workshop in Cornwall.
I’m pleased to say that after a thorough safety check, a wiff of air in the tyres and reconnecting the battery…she started first time, bursting back into life and happily burbling that familiar Harley “Potato, Potato” song from her exhaust.

I just fell in love with her all over again!

Yesterday we took a steady trundle up through the Welsh Marches to an ovenight stop in North Shropshire with two wonderful and special hosts, plus on the way meeting up with a very, very, special person who I hadn’t seen in years. That was quite some hug!!
It was quite an emotional day that left me feeling very happy and grateful for my many blessings.
Today we rode to Skipton, in the Yorkshire Dales, to drop in on to say hello and share a coffee with a mate. Tonight we are at the foot of Pendle Hill in Lancashire, made famous/infamous by the trial and execution of The Pendle Witches in 1612.

Yesterday and this morning we enjoyed glorious riding weather; this afternoon, not so great, with vicious winds and lashing rain. Let’s be honest, it was just the “Weather Clerk” checking out just how much I enjoy riding Harls…

How did it go?
Well, I will admit to being a bit “Ride Rusty” yesterday when we got going, not dangerously so, but I was having to think about what I was doing, but after a couple of hours I got into the groove and things became more instinctive and considerably more enjoyable.

It occurred to me that this is the first long distance ride that I have ever done in the UK and as such I really should embrace the same principle I apply to my long distance Continental trips.
In other words, as my late lamented mate Floyd used to say,
“To know a country, you must eat a country!”

Well OK Floyd; last night was Shropshire beef steak, beautifully cooked blue, just how I like it, accompanied by wonderful conversation and a toast to those we have lost

Tonight, it’s the local speciality of Pendle Pie a wonderfully calorie laden creation of beef in an ale gravy, topped with mash potatoes and cheese, served with seasonal vegetables. Accompanied with a pint, or two, of the local IPA.
“Only” 1055kcal, it’s how they keep the rain out in these parts!

It seems to be working!

Tomorrow we will get to Scotland, but with still a bunch of miles to follow on Saturday.
I could have had Harls shipped up, but I feel its only right to give her the dignity of arriving in her new home on her own two wheels.
I love that bike and for the people and things I love, I will do anything.

“Spread out the oil, the gasoline
I walk smooth, ride a mean, mean machine
Start it up”

Catch you soon,
Dookes

That Hurt!

Hello blogonaughts!

Back in April, I posted about fitting the new “Daymaker” LED headlamp to Harls and I also reported a minor injury to my right shoulder….
Well here we are four months later and I can now update that “minor” injury report to something altogether more tedious! Since the initial incident my shoulder and right arm has basically just got a whole lot worse, despite Sports Therapists, Physiotherapy and Doctors attention! You don’t all need to know my medical history, but I did smash up that shoulder about thirty years ago and a degree of my latest issues turned out to be related to that, joy! Anyway, yesterday saw Dookes in hospital for a reasonably simple procedure to, hopefully, rectify the problem and get life back to normal. I certainly had the best night’s sleep last night that i have enjoyed for months!

Today I feel like I have been kicked by a mule! The stabbing, sickening pain is however gone and i’m thankful for that; now all I have to do is get on with my recovery exercises and behave myself for a couple of weeks….Dookes is bouncing back!

Now, with all this shoulder and medical stuff going on, not to mention, grinding ,wearing, pain, I’ve needed something to raise the old Dookes spirits and what could be better than ordering some motorcycle parts…!

Not shiny farkles this time though, ooo no, Dookes is talking “performance parts.”
I’ve decided to fit a Stage Two tuning kit to Hettie, my FLHC Heritage Classic.

Hettie

Whats a Stage Two tune?

Simply put, Harley’s Stage Two kit contains a performance camshaft and adjustable pushrods.

These parts are intended to increase the duration of the valve opening and lift in the valve train. In other words, the new cam pushes the valves open further and keeps them open longer, which allows more fuel and air into the cylinders and equally clears the exhaust out more efficiently. Theres also a small tweek needed to the ECU mapping too.

I’ve chosen a kit which will increase engine torque and enhance performance in the low and mid-RPM range by up to 15%. This should translate into a crisp throttle response and faster acceleration at lower speeds, which comes in handy to pass slower vehicles without shifting down.

It should also sound really cool too!

I can’t wait for it to be fitted in a couple of weeks by my friends at Plymouth Harley Davidson. By then I should be fit enough to ride again too!

Catch you soon,

Dookes

Gremlins!!

I first published this post way back in 2015!

Following a comment this week from my blogging friend Michael Graeme, I thought that I would revisit and update it, as things in the Gremiln world have moved on a bit since 2015!

Don’t forget to visit Michael’s site, https://michaelgraeme.wordpress.com/ he writes some lovely tales that are well worth following!

Now with Gremlins I’m not referring the  fictional characters in the Hollywood films of the same name. These little fellows are real and play havoc with all kinds of electrical and mechanical equipment.

It is believed that these little creatures first came to notice during the First World War between 1914 and 1918. Perhaps the activities of the war released them from an underground lair? Certainly they were documented by the Royal Air Force in the 1920’s, when the Gremlin delectation for mischief with aeroplanes and engines was further recorded.

During World War II aircrew of the RAF blamed Gremlins for inexplicable occurrences during their flights and missions. Members of the United States Army Air Force also began to experience the exasperating effects of these Imp like little devils. There was even a view that Gremlins had enemy sympathies, but investigations subsequently revealed that enemy aircraft had similar and equally inexplicable mechanical problems; they were just as prevalent in the Luftwaffe and Imperial Japanese Airforce!

It appeared that Gremlins were equal opportunity beings that took no side in the battle; rather they acted in self-interest wreaking their mischief on whoever came into their range.

Since the end of the Second World War the opportunity for Gremlin mischief has literally exploded. The world is now a much more mechanical and electrical place, giving even the most inept trainee Gremlin the chance to practice their dark skills. Since the demise of powerful piston engine aircraft, there is however, one machine that Gremlins love above all others. . . Motorcycles!

Gremlins are now known to be evil road spirits. They jump onto passing motorcycles because they love to ride, feel the wind in their ears and the vibrations of the engine, they are often the cause of many problems endured by bikers. There is however, hope. Many years ago an old biker discovered that Gremlins hate the sound of a small ringing bell. There are many versions of the story of how this happened, but it appears that the evil road spirits can’t bear the ringing and that they get trapped in the hollow body of the bell. Then their hypersensitive hearing and the constant ringing in a confined space drives them insane and they lose their grip and eventually fall off.

Over time it has become apparent that these bells have even more power if they have been received as a gift; sure they work fine if you buy one yourself, but for maximum protection you really need to receive one from a friend or loved one as a gift. That way the magic is doubled, because out there somewhere, you have a friend looking out for you.

So next time you walk past a motorcycle, take a look and see if you can spot a small bell, either on the handlebars or maybe on the swing arm. Whenever you see a biker with a bell you will know that they have been blessed with the most important thing in life, love and friendship. The spirit of camaraderie and brotherhood between bikers is what the ride bell encompasses.

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So you can imagine I was pretty happy when Mrs Dookes presented me with this little beauty to hang on Hettie.

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…..and then another one for Harls!

As you can see, I took the picture of Hettie’s bell when it was new and before I fixed it to her.
Harls bell shows it has done quite a few miles!

A word of caution though…if you steal a bell from a biker, you steal all the gremlins and the evil that comes with them. So don’t do it, the consequences could be dire!

“You got me ringing hells bells.”

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Black Magic or Witchcraft?

I received a message the other day.
“Hey Dookes, how come you haven’t been out riding the mountain passes for a while…?”

Good question, yes, it has been a while since I’ve been on a decent road trip and this is the time of year that I normally would be away. Though to be fair, locally its not a bad place to ride.

As to why:
Well, first off was the small matter of the Covid Pandemic. Now whatever you think about the whole situation surrounding that, there is no doubt that it certainly caused no end of difficulties with travel. In my case there was also the more than slight inconvenience of catching the virus long before vaccines and effective treatment; fun it was not! Then for most of last year I was tied up on a building project here at Dookes H.Q.. Anyone who has had building work done will know just how much time that absorbs.

So that leads us to this year….and just as i was starting to consider slipping off for a quick blast around the mountains, I injured my right shoulder. Bummer. The good news is that some days I’m ok to ride about 50-60 miles, the bad is that other days I’m fit for not much at all and today is one of those!! Fortunately I have an appointment with a Consultant who specialises in shoulders and I am hopeful to get the thing on the road to recovery very soon.

We have been been experiencing lovely sunny riding weather for the last month or so, which has enabled me to get out on my two lovely Harleys when the mood and shoulder permitted. I have also really been falling in love with my Heritage Classic “Hettie” until a couple of weeks ago, that is.

Now “Hettie” is typical of many modern motorcycles and other vehicles; full of electronic wizardry that is supposed to aid the rider and deliver maximum efficiency…and all of it beyond my comprehension or ability to put right if it goes wrong! I’m just a simple mechanical engineer!

One of the little gizmos that “Hettie” has is keyless ignition, using a magic fob that unlocks the motorcycle when in close proximity to it. There is no button to press, the machine just senses the fob, disables the immobiliser and allows me to start the engine…in theory.
I wanted to go for a short ride one evening a few weeks ago, but when I climbed on board the display simply told me “No Fob”. Except I was holding it in my hand!
No panic, I popped back inside Dookes H.Q. and brought out my other fob, to which the bike started with no problem.
Next day I decided to investigate and yes one fob would definitely not work; so I changed the fob battery. It still wouldn’t work.
Time to check the user manual. Nothing useful there.
Check on line user forums. Nothing useful there either.

Ring the local Harley Dealership. “Bring her in”.

Monday last week I rolled into Plymouth Harley Davidson and handed over the two fobs and “Hettie”.

Twenty minutes later technician Damien appeared and questioned just exactly what I had experienced as he could not find a fault with either the bike or the fobs! I used to hate that in my railway days, NFF, “No Fault Found”!!! We discussed the issue and he went back to the workshop to try again.

After another 30 minutes “Hettie” and Damien appeared at the front of the Dealership and he confirmed again that he couldn’t get the bike to reveal any fault, but he had, as a precaution, reset the system and reprogrammed the fobs for me.

I concluded that it was Black Magic and that Damien had weaved some kind of Witchcraft to banish the Demons!

I went to pay and was pleasantly surprised when Dealership Principal Chris told me that there was no charge and in addition they had carried out a “health check” on “Hettie” which she had passed with flying colours!
Now that’s what I call good customer service!

Time to ride home…

“Call me the breeze, I keep blowin” down the road”

Catch you soon

Dookes

With many thanks to Plymouth Harley Davidson.

Portents of Summer, Hospitals and New Crash Helmets

I’ve said it before, this whole “getting older” thing is a vibe that i’d rather not have…though given the reality of what the alternative is, I’ll settle for my discontented lot!

Just to ram things home on the ageing theme, this past week has seen me deliver one mate to hospital for corrective neck surgery and sit talking with two others who have both just returned from hospital having received a cancer diagnosis. On the plus side, my doctor called me in for a general checkover and a host of routine tests that I am pleased to report saw Dookes given a pretty good bill of health; I am grateful.

Whilst riding this wave of positivity and also enjoying some very nice weather which brought on the blossom on in our garden, I took the opportunity to pop out and ride a few miles on both of my lovely Harleys.

There was also the added bonus of wearing my heated jacket, which eased my injured shoulder considerably, double win then!

Being out on two wheels is always a great mental tonic for me, it resets everything, puts things into perspective and because you have to totally concentrate on the job in hand, everyday troubles are washed away, even if for just a short time.

Around Dookes H.Q. in North Cornwall we are blessed with a delightful selection of great roads to enjoy and just at the moment there are few holiday visitors about, so progress is easy and very enjoyable. A trip North up the Atlantic Highway to Westward Ho! on Hettie was delightful. I had coffee near the beach at Northam Burrows, as the surf breakers rolled in under azure skies.

Another day saw Harls and I heading across Bodmin Moor, no pics this time, just all-out riding pleasure.

Both rides saw me wearing my new crash helmet. For those of you who have never wore a motorcycle crash helmet, let me explain that breaking in a new helmet is never the greatest thing. Yes it may be your size, yes it may be exactly the same model as your old helmet, which fits like a lovely comfy glove, but it will take some time to bed into your head shape…or is that that your head takes some time to bed into the new helmet?!?!?

The new Schuberth C4 Pro.

Either way, it always seems to take ages for a new helmet to go from stiff and a tad uncomfortable to fitting in a way that you don’t realise you are wearing it any more; so shorter rides are a great way to go. I’ve ridden in Schuberth helmets for many years now and I am very happy with them, no connection other than as a satisfied customer.

Pausing to grab some fuel on my way home on Harls my eye was caught by a flash of dark blue in the sky and my heart was fully lifted…the first Swallow of summer skimmed past me on silent soaring wings!

A Swallow, Hirundo rustica. Photo, Ian F.

Aristotle wrote, in the First Book of Ethics, so very long ago, “One Swallow makes no summer.”
Well, yes, but it sure is a portent that Summer isn’t so very far away and I really needed that bit of symbolism!

“I need a shot of salvation baby, once in a while.”

Catch you soon,
Dookes

Farkles and Sparkles: Comfort and Safety

Earlier this year I went through a slightly worrying phase: I began to question whether I should keep both of my Harley Davidson motorcycles…after all, I can only ride one at a time!

This disturbing musing then threw up another dilemma. If I was to say goodbye to one of my bikes, which one should go?

“Sensible Head” says keep the newest, Heritage Classic Hettie: she has much lower mileage, is more powerful, has modern suspension, better luggage and is generally a bit more comfortable.

“Romantic Head” says keep Centenary Softail Harls; been places, done things and got great memories of the many, many, many miles we have rolled together.

I was still pondering my self imposed conundrum when I visited the local Dealership for Hettie’s service a few weeks back. It was whilst i was waiting that I wandered around the showroom and saw the price of bikes for sale. Not just brand new bikes, but also the price of pre-owned bikes.

I wasn’t just surprised…I was totally dumbstruck by how much Harley Davidson motorcycles were selling for. A new version of Hettie for example would set me back a cool £24,500! (Thats 24,500 UK Pounds) Add into that mix the various tweeks and additions that I’ve done to her and an extra £3000 could easily disappear too…!!! A massive £27,500 in total!!!!

Time for a serious and sensible chat with the Dealer Principle about bike values. Even dear old Harls, who now is, a bit like me, viewed as a “Classic” is now appreciating in value!

Do I need to sell either bike? – No.
Do I want to sell either bike? – No.

What the hell have I been thinking about???

So I did what any sensible Harley rider should do and ordered a set of heated grips and a new LED “Daymaker” headlamp for Harls! The grips for a bit of added comfort and the nice bright headlamp for a bit of added safety.

The Dealership fitted the grips a week or so back, as previously reported, I got around to fitting the headlamp yesterday.

All was good until, after a nice test ride, I decided to give the headlamp mounting bolt an extra bit of torque and the distinctly heard something tear in my right shoulder! I dropped the wrench like I had been hit by an electric cattle prod and am now sitting writing this with my arm in a sling and stoked up on pain-killers and anti-inflammatories!!!

Oh the joys of getting older!!!

Catch you soon,
Dookes

Back In The Dealership

I have a problem, it’s pretty persistent and can flare up without warning…

It frequently happens when i walk into a Harley Davidson Dealership and usually involves parting with substantial sums of cash!

A week ago I was sitting here in Plymouth Harley Davidson, waiting for Hettie’s service to be completed thinking how nice it was riding in with her heated grips keeping my hands warm…and the thought occurred to me, “Why haven’t I ever had heated grips fitted to Harls?”

Good question Dookes…and to be honest, it has never really occurred to me in the past to fit them!

Well, that didn’t seem like a very good excuse not to have them…so i ordered a set and here I am waiting for them to be fitted! Call it my 20th Anniversary present to her!

One of the old grips, I’ve been to a lot of places holding onto those!

It’s just a shame that it’s such a crap day, weather-wise, to ride a motorcycle!
There’s reasonably heavy, no, read monsoon, rain, gusty winds, lots of spray and the roads are a slippery as hell!…Welcome to Cornwall and Devon in March!!

I’m valiantly trying, successfully so far, not to spend any more money. I am though looking forward to enjoying the new heated grips on the way home! Not that I froze on the way here, i have my heated under-jacket and gloves with me, I’ll just be a little bit more comfortable…

Nice new shiny heated grips!

Catch you soon,

Dookes

Shiny Things and the Smell of Rubber

It’s the time of year that my two lovely Harley Davidson motorcycles have their annual service. Normally, as part of the service plan I have, they get collected by the Plymouth Harley dealership and delivered back all serviced and nicely clean. That happened with Harls a few weeks back, but unfortunately not for Hettie, I’ve had to ride her to the dealership….!

Now this isn’t really an issue, I love riding my bikes even if just lately i haven’t had much time to do so, unfortunately though, this morning dawned a bit damp and soggy…oh well, suck it up and get on with it Dookes! Regular blogonaughts will know that I’m certainly not a fair weather rider, just that given the choice I’d rather avoid the wet stuff especially when the ambient temperatures are a bit on the low side. Tyres can take an age to warm up this time of year and the added fun of mud, low sun, slippery roads and this morning a liberal coating of diesel oil on a particularly tight corner made for an “interesting” 45 miles from Dookes H.Q. to Plymouth.

So here I am relaxing in the showroom of Plymouth Harley Davidson, surrounded by lots of shiny things and with the smell of rubber from new tyres, whilst Hettie gets the best attention of a Harley Davidson Technician.

I’m also sitting here in a state of shock.

Shock induced by how expensive a new Harley is these days!

There are currently 67 bikes here in the showroom and if I apply a, probably low, average price of £20,000 i calculate that I am surrounded by £1.4million worth of Harley Davidsons!

I’m not sure if that is cool….or scary!!!

Over the last few months I had been contemplating just becoming a “One Bike” rider, possibly parting with Hettie, but I’ve been wavering. This morning has firmly buried that idea, Hettie stays!!! A new Hettie, in basic form would cost me in excess of £24,300 on the road; if I then add on all the little bells and whistles that i’ve put on her it would push the new price to over £25,000!!

Hettie….this girl’s going nowhere!!!

That’s £7000 more than I paid for her!!!!…….Ho hum, it’s only money!!!

Now I must relax and breath deeply, I love the smell of a motorcycle dealership showroom!!

Catch you soon,
Dookes

PS I really need to check Hettie’s agreed insured value….

The Real Spooks Of Halloween

I’m not a great fan of Halloween.


When I was younger it was never a big deal, but the global spread of Americanisation and commercial pressure seems to have propelled it high in popular consciousness.
Even where we live, deep in the heart of rural Cornwall, it’s now not unusual to see “Trick or Treaters” roaming the country lanes on the evening of 31st October…!

If you keep your eyes open though, there are many more scary, weirdly beautiful and indeed deadly lifeforms to be found around the woodlands of the British Isles.

I’m talking fungi!

These fascinating lifeforms burst from cover as the days grow shorter, wetter and before the first frost occur. I love their variety and colours, from pale ghostly white through to vibrant orange, red, blues and browns.

Fly Agaric (Amanita muscaria), definitely poisonous!

Walking through the woodlands, I love to see how fungi magically appear from the leaf litter on the forest floor; theres a silent eeriness about them….yet at the same time a beguiling beauty.

2022 seems to have been a spectacular year for fungi.
This Autumn around Dookes H.Q. we have enjoyed harvesting a wonderful bounty of tasty field mushrooms, Agaricus campestris.

The important thing when foraging wild mushrooms is to get your recognition right. There are over 1400 different varieties of fungi found in the British Isles, some are edible, but many more are not and some are deadly if eaten…you have been warned!

Yep, definitely field mushrooms!

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Ready for cooking.

Then, almost a quickly as they appear, their fleeting visit is over and they degrade into a wet slimy and often smelly mush…!

Farewell spooky friends, until next year!

Catch you soon,
Dookes

PLEASE do not eat any wild fungi unless your are 110% sure what it is.
Check with a real expert or better still don’t risk it, a mistake could be fatal.