I don’t often get melancholy, but the other day I was sitting in a rather beautiful spot on the Cornish coast just taking in the atmosphere and I sort of came over a bit “Strange.”

Sure, I was happy enough in myself and my life is pretty cool. . .

I am rich in many, many, ways, though I’m not super-wealthy cash-wise, anyway who really needs loads of surplus money?!?!

We live in a beautiful part of the country, in a wonderfully historic house. I’m married to a fantastic lady who totally understands and supports my need to travel. I lead an interesting life that at times gets punctuated with outlandish adventures, some of which I relate here. I think that I’m pretty healthy too. In other words, I’m very happy and content.

So, why have I been feeling a bit melancholy of late?

Well, the truth is that it’s all about the one thing that we all have no control over in life, you know, time.

I’m lucky that I have a cadre of close friends. Most of whom I’ve known for many years and like old wine we have aged well together.

We laugh and joke about how we have changed over the years. We compare wrinkles, laughter lines, hair loss and wonder at how hair that you couldn’t believe could turn grey actually does!

The sad inevitability of time is that none of us can, or will, last forever and just to underscore that one of my friends, if I can put it this way “checked out,” recently.

From diagnosis to “Adios,” took Dave only five weeks, two of which he was in a coma. Bummer!

He was a good pal and we had many excellent times together. We had a common love of steam locomotives and helped to maintain one historic engine in mainline running order. Dave helped me keep my own steam roller on the road as well, I still have the whistle he gave me for it. We worked together when we secured a contract to provide engineering support services for a Cross-Chanel ferry company back in the ‘90s. Most of all we enjoyed each other’s company immensely, sharing a common offbeat sense of humour that often culminated in our infamous double act of the two “Hicks” who used to talk to the trees! Happy and good times indeed, memories that I will treasure for as long as I’m around.

Then there’s my mate G, who regulars to this blog will know is currently undergoing chemo-therapy for leukaemia. He’s doing OK, has ups and downs, but is hanging in there. I’ve got us tickets for one of the Rugby Six Nations games at Cardiff next Spring, so he’d better get himself well by then or there will be trouble!

All this reinforces that the 18-year-old, who many years ago thought himself invincible, actually isn’t that at all!

Around two thousand five hundred years ago the Greek philosopher Heraclitus said, “Everything flows, but nothing abides.” I think he was a pretty on the mark when he established that change was central to the workings of the Universe. What really underscores that, is the growing list of parts of my body that ache every day, but hey if it ain’t worn out it ain’t been used, eh?

Autumn is truly setting in here now, the leaves are falling fast and the first dreary days of the season have set in, which is only to be expected for the time of year. Soon the vibrant colours of the falling leaves will be gone, but like the memories of departed loved ones they will remain etched in our consciousness, bright golden and glowing. That way they never really die, it’s not all bad.

Today dawned dry, cold and bright; time to ride and put things back into perspective.

Of course it was Harls who I rolled out of the workshop. . .

Simple really, start her up, warm the engine, engage first gear, then find a nice twisty road and ride!

Sixty head clearing and spirit lifting miles later, we paused on the edge of Dartmoor to drink in the morning, check the scenery and monitor the life perspective. Yep, everything had been reset nicely!
Riding home was sublime and when I switched off the engine back at H.Q., Mrs Dookes was waiting. “You needed that,” she smiled and knew I was back in a better place. Like I said earlier, she’s a fantastic lady!

. . . and everything else? As the song says:

“It’s better to have loved and lost, than never have loved at all.”

Catch you all soon and thanks for your support.

Dookes

The last warmth of summer is still kissing Europe and before everything descends into the gloom and damp of winter it seems a good idea to grab a few days holiday with Mrs Dookes in France.

Sadly, I am forbidden from taking either of my beloved Harleys, but really that’s no such a bad idea as we can fit far more shopping into the car!

Our friends Château in mid-Brittany makes a luxurious and perfect base for enjoying the local countryside and small towns. Yesterday, Saturday, we popped into Josselin to enjoy the atmosphere of the street market and also because it’s a really nice town, if a tad over-run at times by tourists! Bear with me if you have seen photo’s of the imposing Château before, but it’s so iconic it deserves another look.
The market was in full flow and a real treat for the senses with the smell of cooking food, fresh vegetables, herbs and bread alongside stalls selling everything from shoes, carpets and clothes. There was even one vendor selling old vinyl LP’s, magic!We bought a selection of Saucisson Sec, a variety of olives and a tress of delicious smoked garlic which has now wonderfully infused the car with its heady aroma, happy days indeed!

After a full day shopping and just touring around, we enjoyed a leisurely swim in the pool back at the Château before indulging in our hosts splendid cooking over dinner.
It’s really not a bad way to spend an early autumn day.
Catch you all soon.
Dookes (& Mrs D)

Here in the far South West of the British Isles the first week of September has been glorious; warm sunshine, blue skies and pleasant temperatures.

Yesterday however, the first storm of Autumn hit Cornwall. We had the joy of 60mph winds, driving horizontal rain and just for good measure a blasting of hailstones!

This morning I nervously walked around the grounds of Dookes H.Q. to check for damage. These early storms can often wreak havoc with the trees still in leaf and, in the case of our orchard, heavy with apples. Fortunately we seem to have got off lightly and apart from a bucketful of dropped fruit all seems well.

As I wandered around picking up the windfall apples in pleasant sunshine which was such a contrast to yesterday I pondered simple pleasures of life and precious moments.

The news about my friend G’s illness has certainly deeply affected me in a way that I would not have thought possible previously. I suppose that I contrast it with some pretty selfish actions by members of my own family, who frankly don’t realise how lucky they are with their comfortable lives, yet act in pretty low ways to others when it suits them! Anyway, enough of that, I am valuing my friends even more than ever now and realise much stronger that life really is for living ‘cos its pretty short!

So time to enjoy some more miles on two wheels.

Muchelney Abbey on the Somerset Levels seemed like a good place to go the other day. It was a round trip of about 250 miles, so just right to blow away some cobwebs and also drop in on a couple of friends as well. The ruins comprise the foundations of a medieval Benedictine Abbey, earlier 7th Century Saxon remains and a Tudor house from the 1500’s which was formerly the home of the resident Abbot. I could write a whole blog post just on this one place, so I’ll save more details for another day. Yeah, I know I’m a tease!
I had a super day and thoroughly enjoyed every minute of the ride. Shortly after I got home the phone rang, it was G with the latest news from his scan and treatment.

We talked for ages; bikes, family, friends, life and his illness were all covered and pretty much in that order! In a way it seemed that we both needed to be connected.

Anyway, G wanted to thank all you good people out there in “Blog World” for the messages of support that you have been sending via the Hogrider Dookes pages. He has posted a reply elsewhere, but I really need to add my thanks to you all and also post his message here.

On behalf of my friend and also myself, thank you, over to you G!

“What can I say….. Touched is too light a word and a cliché, but reading some of the responses to the posts is an amazing feeling and a great support… ….. But don’t give up on just me yet…
As long as I can ride a motorcycle then i’m living….. They can pull those keys from my cold dead hand!
I’ve known Dookes for a long time now… A friend and a confidant .. A riding buddy…Those in the biking world will know of the bond shared…. There are very few like him.

But lets remain positive… I’m lucky.. It wasn’t my wife Nettie that was diagnosed, if it had been then my world would have fallen apart, right from the moment they said “Cancer” My life would have ended.

It wasn’t one of my children….

Or one of my friends…

I can handle it, it’s me…. A strange one but as it’s me it makes it bearable.

Chemo starts on Wednesday…. Which means Wednesday is the start of the road to recovery..

I’ve felt so ill for so long and I didn’t realise it … Two units of blood made me feel semi normal… but that priceless elixir is running out and I didn’t really realise how ill I am, or was…. But I thank the person who donated it… I really do… I just wish I could say thank you…

Because of the chemo I can’t ever give blood … so i’ll find another way to give something back…

So Dookes, a monster tour somewhere….???

A big thank you to you all I really appreciate the support.

Greg”

You got it mate.

Dookes

. . . and now its time to ride again.

Back from wine gathering in Italy and France, I spent last Thursday on the glorious coast of North Cornwall. At this point I remember that I had intended to do a regular “Coast” spot in the blog and as yet have not delivered that promise, sorry about that. The weather has been a bit mixed since the heat of Italy, but Thursday was glorious.
Shortly after I got home the phone rang, it was my old friend G. We go back quite a few years to when we were both running railways, we also share the common interests of motorcycles, shooting and Welsh rugby. G’s sing-song Swansea accent always gives me a lift as it usually means we are about to get up to some new adventure! For the first five minutes of our conversation it was typical G, asking how I was, what I’d been up to easing into retirement, how were the bikes and of course enquiring after Mrs Dookes. Then, almost as an aside, he slipped into the conversation four words.

“I’ve got cancer mate.”

The world stood still.

I could almost hear my own blood hissing around my head as I took in what he had said and then all I could say was “Where?”

Dumb, stupid and clumsy, that’s me in certain situations.

“Every f****ng where, it’s a form of leukaemia.”

G went on to tell me about his diagnosis and the tests he had recently been through, including an excruciating bone marrow sample taken from his hip bone under local anaesthetic. He had been informed that his condition was quite rare and the type was viewed as highly aggressive. His treatment starts next Tuesday with a blood transfusion and then he is straight into chemotherapy.

Outlook? Well, I don’t really know. G is always an optimistic sod, to him it doesn’t matter if the glass is half full or half empty as there’s a bar in the room anyway! That’s one of the reasons I love that little bugger!

All I know is that he’s my friend and I’m here for him and his family; I told him that and at that point we had to sort of stop, because we were both near to tears.

The next day, Friday morning, I wheeled Harls out of the workshop and hit the road, I needed to get my head around the previous evening’s conversation and find some space to take it in. I found myself drawn to the beautiful setting of the ruins of Restormel Castle, a good place to think.
The castle was originally built nearly 1000 years ago, most of what remains dates from around 1300 and is pretty impressive, with truly lovely views that are very easy on the eye.

After the tranquility of Restormel we hit the road again and reeled off another 60 miles. I’m glad I took Harls my beloved Softail, the staccato growl from her shotgun pipes and the way that I was able to aggressively, yet safely, ride her were just the tonic I needed. The ride was for G as well as me!

So please can you do me a favour?

Think of my mate and all the others like him. If prayer is something you do, then by all means say one for all those that have to deal with such situations, if not just positive thought will do. . .
And me? I’m here ready to do anything I can, he’s my mate you know.

Catch you soon and thanks for listening.

Dookes