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Arcarius of Plymouth - Arcarius. "Hells Angels"






"Hells Angels"

ARC coach trip missed, so now our only hope of seeing the Island's Caldiera is with the help of 3 scooters! We cling on and turn the accelerator staking out our "Arcarius Chapter." The Scare-Pirate determined to burn tyres and graze knees!!!!! The First Mate lead the Angels, exhausts firing through the quiet hamlets and beautiful countryside of Fiail. The Atlantic vista often presenting itself as we head up to the Caldiera stopping occasionally to record the view points photographically and to adjust the oversized, ill fitting helmets that obliterated the view of the road. This precarious form of transport however, proved very successful and we managed to catch the ARC group and arrive in time catch the view and make perfect images of the outstanding scenery before us.

The Skipper, in his usual cool manner, cigarette in hand, gets back in the saddle, but his scooter won't start. He wheels it over to the first-mate, who notices that trying to press the starter button, hold the brake and a cigarette prevents him from also turning the throttle. A third hand from first-mate fires him into action and we are off! The boys decide a change of route home is required and opt for the off-road, "black, downhill, run" back to the marina. Really boys? The road hairpins down from the summit leaving the comfort of Tarmac behind, replacing it with red soil, pot holes and undulating moguls! Where are the comforting storms of the Atlantic? At least then death by drowning is 5 minutes.

Undeterred, the boys shoot off, happily, not realising that they are riding scooters and not trial bikes, dust flies and they can't resist the opportunity to compete for the best, out of control, back wheel skid. Although they say they were in control, do we believe them girls? The First-Mate suddenly realised, with a huge wave of satisfaction that the irritating, waste of oxygen with whom he had spent the last 5 weeks sailing had, at last, been lost. With no one left on board to dominate and bully, he reluctantly turned the bike around making sure that if she had been fatally injured, enough time had passed to ensure there'd been no chance of reviving her. The Skipper also gave the rescue some thought but reached the conclusion that he'd be better off without either of them.

To the distress of the crew the Scare-Pirate arrived appearing round the corner, speedway style riding without any control at a breath-taking 5 miles per hour, every orofice choked with red dust, knuckles white and clutching desperately to the handlebars, legs searching for anything that remotely suggested balance but loving every minute of it.

Only 10 mins left to return the bikes and still have time to attend the ARC presentation evening, the trio raced back to the marina


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