In the Irish Sea, a rugged isle stands tall, Between England and Ireland, where speed demons call. Racers gather, with hearts aflame, Chasing glory, with bikes that bear no shame....

On the Isle of Man, where speed fans reside, Racers gather, with their need for speed inside. They rev up their engines, with a mighty roar, And push their bikes to the limit, on the course once more!...

Had to spray it black as i don't have green... fixed the rear caliper so now we can go out again tomorrow ...

I am not into lining tanks....

There's a new motorcycle museum in the Midwest right outside of Chicago in st Charles....

On the Isle of Man's hallowed ground, Racing bikes thunder all around, The TT's roar, a deafening sound, As fans gather, spirits unbound....

In the Irish Sea, a rugged isle stands tall, Between England and Ireland, where speed demons call. Racers gather, with hearts aflame, Chasing glory, with bikes that bear no shame....

And the sun shone for 24 hours without taking a snooze!...