There they were, low down on the banking, just the two of them, only a few yards apart yet each one immersed in his own thoughts, each one separately seaching urgently for more tyre adhesion, each one using the throttle with a delicacy unnecessary of trials riders, trying desperately to find extra traction in order to fling their machines higher up the banking.
Who were they, where were they? Who then? It was Mike Scott remember him, the previous editor of this esteemed rag and well known GP pundit. Why then the drama? We were at the end of a half day ride in freezing conditions, driving snow, ice cold rain, ice covered roads, all had been experienced, but despite the intense concentration needed just to retain balance, my tired and frozen brain still allowed my thoughts to wander and I remember that at one stage they wandered to Tony M's account of his American adventures see December issue.
How dare he, thought I, complain about the problems of desert heat, heat exhaustion, and dehydration, doesn't he know when he is well off. After all, early man emerged from the cocoon of his ape's clothing, in the warmth of the tropics not the cold of the alps.
The desire to swap locations was particularly poignant to me, because if earlier plans had come to fruition, I would have been with him in the US. Instead here I was with a fellow ex-colonial, both of us old enough to know better and both of us used to warmer climes. Why were we here then? Like most most daft schemes it seemed a good idea at the time. However when it became apparent that this adventure was premature I looked around for an alterative maiden trip. Last year Mike invited me to ride with him to the Cologne show and so it seemed only natural for me to suggest likewise to this year's Milan show.
As an added incentive Superbike needed somebody to take some photos at the show. Having spent my formative years in Australia my knowledge of European geography is sketchy at best and all I knew about Milan was that it was in Italy and as everyone knows Italy is warm, and as experience has taught me, good old Blighty is a bit on the cool side in November, so I was looking forward to a few days away from it, imagine my surprise when only a few days before the off I consulted a map to find that Milan was just south of the Alps, Brrrrr.
