The raffle which ended 31st August, raised £65 and has been won by Sheila Stirling of Edinburgh.


Raffle Ticket Number 36.

Well done and thank you for your donation to the cause.


I would like to once again address my fellow UK bikers and make this  final plea, in a last ditch attempt to generate some positivity from you all and if successful, will go down as the greatest demonstration of our compassion for our fellow men suffering from Prostate Cancer in the history of our nation.

As you read this, 1 in every 8 men is affected and 1 man is dying from Prostate Cancer every minute.

We need to stand together as a great beacon of light of hope to millions of men who have been seared in the flames of this withering illness.

We must face the tragic fact that men will not be free as long as this disease continues to take our lives. Until a cure is found, we will be sadly crippled by the manacles of this disease which does not discriminate. 

It does not care whether you are white, black, yellow, red, whether you ride a 50 c.c ride-about or a 1200 c.c speed-king or do not even ride a bike.

We all live on a lonely island of material prosperity, devoid of charity and compassion. Men still languish in the corners of a society that cares not for the poor and suffering.

And, so I address you today to dramatise an appalling condition. In a sense, I’m coming to you to ‘cash a cheque’ 

When the architects of our humanity wrote their magnificent words of Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, they were signing a promissory note to which every man was to fall heir. 

This note was a promise that all men would be guaranteed the liberty to be free of disease, to the inalienable rights of life, the equality of treatment and the pursuit of happiness."

We have been give a bad cheque by ‘Prostate Cancer’ which has come back marked "insufficient funds." 

I refuse to believe that the banks of compassion is bankrupt and that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of the soul of this nation. 

So, I’ve come to cash this cheque, a cheque that will mark our brotherhood as strong and true.

In this sweltering summer of fun, frolics and great rides, I am coming to you to remind you of the fierce urgency of ‘Now’ This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. 

Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of indifference to the sunlit path of hope. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksands of medical injustice to the solid rock of care and compassion. 

Now is the time to make finding a cure a reality for all of God's children.

It would be fatal for the nation of bikers to overlook the urgency of the moment. The increased number of fatalities will not pass until we find a cure to Prostate Cancer.

Make 2018 not an end, but a beginning. 

Let us help those who suffer with this disease, by giving them hope that we as a nation are doing everything we can to find the cure for what will otherwise continue to ravage and deprive us of our friends and family.

Personally, I will not rest until my fellow men are granted the equal opportunity to enjoy a quality of life that is their right. We must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. 

We do not walk alone in search of this solution. The many dedicated researchers are doing it for us. They will not turn back and neither must we turn our backs on the greatest challenge to befall men.

The unspeakable horrors of this brutal disease must be eradicated. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies maintain the rights to live with dignity. 

I HAVE A DREAM that if all the biking brotherhood and communities donated just £5 to this great cause, we would edge closer to finding the cure to saving the lives of thousands of men and grant them the freedom to enjoy a better and prolonged quality of life. 

The Yorkshire County Bikers Group alone boasts 4000 members. Times that by £5 each = £20,000 (Dream or Reality?)

The only reason to life lies in ‘HOPE’

Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I will hold on to my dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the human dream.

I HAVE A DREAM that we will rise up and live out the true meaning of our creed, that we hold these truths to be self-evident and that all men are created equal.

Let us therefore express our hopes and aspirations to our fellow men by digging deep and make this happen. 


Even in the face of discord and uncertainties, let us prove to the world that our soul is alive and well in the biking world. As God's children, let us rise and be counted.

Thank you.


(Inspired by and adapted from Dr Martin Luther King ‘I have a dream’ speech)



My abiding memories will be of the many individuals battling with Prostate Cancer and other forms of Cancer and yet always managing to stay cheerful and happy. Never thinking of themselves, but of others and all of them involved in some cause or other. 

A special mention to the lady fighting both liver and breast cancer. My head couldn’t take it in. 

I found the experience humbling and made me all the more determined to keep pushing for more involvement from more people. That’s why I selected to borrow from Dr Martin Luther King ‘I had a dream’ speech.

Thank you to all those who’ve followed my journey. Without your support, it would have been more of an endurance and unrewarding.

Thank you to all those of you who’ve donated. I thank you and Prostate Cancer UK thanks you.

My target was set at £3000. So far we’ve reached 39%. Pathetic. I’m being serious.

I mainly blame myself for this failure. I could have probably done more. 

However, Im optimistic that we can do better. 

This is not a criticism and whatever you may think of it, I make no apology for saying it. 

The moral responsibility that men has towards men has all but disappeared up the sphicters of those who govern us. The politicians have taken it away from us. They’ve hijacked it. Used it. Abused it. Politicised it and buried it.

Instead, through the medium of television and tax exempt charities, they are burdening us with the guilt of donating to a plethora of Overseas Aid issues, that’s overwhelming and corrupt to the core.

CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME. We need to clean up our own backyards, before looking elsewhere to alleviate our consciences and humanitarian responsibilities.

I’m talking about regaining a collective responsibility that we, UK men, need to embrace, regardless of the narcissistic images we are being sold. 

Passivity is not an option and will no longer cut the mustard. 

We need to develop a level of self-governing conscience that is immune from dogma, be it regious or political. If not, indifference and apathy will consume us all.

Every time you get on your horse, could be the last time you ever see your loved ones. 

As the old cliché would have us believe, we are not born to ride, but to die. 

That is the truth of life. Our fathers & mothers, brothers & sisters, friends and all, are mortal. It’s only a question of time. 

Life is short. 

What matters, is how we choose to live. We need to enhance, nurture and share our lives with those less fortunate?

Take time to read my impassioned ‘I have a dream’ plea and do something for the men affected by Prostate Cancer, here in the UK.







Final Days 12/07 and 13/07

(Live long and prosper)

On the way up from Penzance, I decided to again stay at my brother’s in Bristol, to put on more weight! 

My journey back to Castleford and home was done in four hours. M5/M42/M1. I’d had enough of riding. 

Arrived home, dumped the bike, which was probably prompted by the fact that drive chain and sprockets needed attention.  The next day I took out my bicycle and I’ve been out and about riding alongside the canal way daily.

So, how’re you doing Roger? Don’t ask.

See you at Castle’s or Squires.


Bristol to Land’s End

(Devonish Ice Cream)

For me, the best ice cream, hails from Cornwall. I was therefore looking forward to this final leg, to indulge in sampling the best of the best.

My arrival in Land’s End was frustrating and annoying. 

First of all, ‘respect’ to the car park attendants for allowing me in, Free of Charge.

I proceeded to the landmark sign, only to find that it had been cordoned off and taking a picture next to the post now costs £9.95! What the heck has happened to free public access to our heritage sites, as it is in John O’Groats and many more similar places? 

Land’s End belongs to the people and smugglers. So butt out Cornwall Council!

Some greedy enterprising prat has rented the site from the Council and is now making money out of the gullible visiting public, especially the tourists, who are only too happy to part with their cash. Not me, bud. I told the old arrogant twat, who was manning the site, to go jump down the cliff edge. What about an exception for the charity? Same negative response. 

The defence barriers are taken down after 6 p.m and access is then free and open to all. Unfortunately, I got there around noon and I wasn’t about to wait six bloody hours for the tight arse to close shop.

I’d be damned if I was going to be dictated by some money grabber, to spoil my arrival and at my instigation, I encouraged another biker, Duncan Moir from Glasgow, to also take his bike as close as possible to the perimeter of the barrier and we then took our pics. 

The silly, officious photographer from the ‘David Bailey School of Tourists Snap Shots’ wasn’t happy about losing money and tried to get us to move our bikes, but I told him to shut the hell up and sod off. I think I was sufficiently intimidating for him to leave us alone. Bloody cheek. Would not surprise me if the Council is in on the act as well!

What a pleasure it was to meet with Duncan. He’d also done the Land’s End to John O’Groats ride on his Triumph and what a character. 77 years of age! but as he said and I concurred, age is only a number. We’ll be staying in touch.

I am lucky to have a good Chef friend, Andy Roe, who lives in Penzance. I hadn’t seen him since 2015 and decided to stay with him instead. He works and cooks for the crew of the Scillonian 3, which services Penzance to the Isles of Scilly.

Predictably, I cancelled my pitch at the Lamar Lakes Camping site in Bude.


I spent two interesting days with him and managed to secure an unpaid passage (arranged by Andy) to St Mary’s, the largest island of the islands and home to its tiny capital ‘Hugh Town’.

What a beautiful holiday resort. Free from the pollution of big cities and surrounded by a plethora of little islands, open to visitors too. I would put it on par with Ibiza (without the club scene) Bermuda, Jamaica etc. An unknown fact, well, unknown to me at least, was that the Islands were never invaded by the Germans. Lucky them. 

Best way to tour is to hire a bicycle. Andy and I walked around the fortifications in about two hours. The High Street offers everything that anyone would need on holiday and also a bank. The only issue I had was with the old, grumpy, local white owner of a souvenir shop that doesn’t even take debit cards. Cash only. I smelled a rat, but hey ho, Andy insisted that I bought a t-shirt. I think the Duke of Cornwall should look into this.

A word of warning, the place is pricey and when a bar/hotel tried to charge me and my chum, Andy, £12.75 for a sandwich, we told the manager to stuff it. We went to the Co-op to get as good and as tasty a meal deal for £3.75p. 

The absolute highlight of my crossing to the Isles, was seeing the dolphins swimming alongside the ferry. Amazing. Let’s hope they don’t get caught up in the plastics now polluting our seas.

I left the Isles of Scilly, vowing to go back there again.