It was my first visit to the Ace cafe, and though I know its history, I was still surprised at the amount of bikes and bikers. The queue for food was soon peppered with fabrics other than leather, as scooterists foraged for breakfast. The not all-together palatable food could not dampen the atmosphere, and soon bikers and scooterists were talking and swapping stories. More roadside repairs to my lammy were needed, as the flywheel cover had come loose (cheers Dizzy) As I worked, a huge pair of boots asked me what was wrong. I looked up, and told the bloke wearing them a shortened version. He then told me his bike was playing up, so he’d left it at home. I asked what he had, expecting some temperamental British make. I had to stifle a laugh when he told me, with a serious face, it was a Honda melody. I thought he was taking the piss, but he continued to explain that he would be getting something a bit bigger when he was seventeen. He was only Sixteen. If you looked past the boots, he looked twelve.Soon, everyone had eaten some form of pig, and it was time for the ‘photo session. As the scooters were lined up, a few of the bikers also produced cameras. No doubt something to tell their Grandchildren about.

It was now time for the main point of the day. Camden. After a few attempts at bump starting it, my lammy decided it would start. Prompting a sarcastic cheer from the bikers (I think it made their day) The ride was incident free, and made pleasant by the watery sunshine. There were enough of us to attract a lot of attention on the streets of London, and window shoppers had something a bit more interesting to look at for a few seconds. Camden, as is usual on a Sunday, was full of a diverse mix of styles, cultures, sounds and smells. Even here, the thronged streets turned as one to gaze at our group. (Apart from one old soak, who was fishing around in a bin for a smoke) Victory was closed (good planning is our hallmark) and we eventually alighted at The Elephants Head, made pleasant by the watery beer. More photos were taken and some of the braver ones had a bit of a shop. The customary Camden nutter accosted everyone who stood outside the pub at some stage. This particular one had owned a scooter “when they were fast” and had used a scaffold pole as a rear shock. This boy had been injecting glue and sniffing heroin.

Soon, people began drifting off. As dusk approached, the main group of us left (after more starting trouble) eager to reach the comfort of the pub. Or eager to get home because their lights didn’t work (yes, that’s me again) All things considered, this had been a great day out. It only remains for me to thank anyone who helped to start my Lammy that day. Never has so much been owed by so few to so many.

ACE CAFE / CAMDEN RIDE OUT, JANUARY 00