Cool 😎 Strange 🤪 or obscure 🙃 / interesting things...
- Thread starter Exige
- Start date
I wondered what that engine was
Modern Métisse (Gerry Lisi Era)
- In-house Engines:
In 2005, the current owner, Gerry Lisi, began developing a bespoke, in-house designed 997cc, 8-valve parallel-twin engine for the Métisse Mk5 model.
- Mk5 Models:
This "Adelaide" engine powers the modern Mk5, including the Café Racer and Street Scrambler versions, making Métisse unique as a British manufacturer that builds its own engines.
He's directly out of his mind that AI.
Needs to get their choke sorting...not an even spread.
Also, I'd recommend a larger shot size for yer scrote.
I guess 35 yards No 7 shot 1/4 choke.
121 K vues · 1,3 K réactions | What a beast #fbreels23 #fbreels #fbpost #fbviral #fbreels23 #viralshorts #facebookshorts #facebookreels #reelsfb #viralfbreel #yacht #yachtlife #yachting #yachts #lilyachty #superyacht #yachtclub #luxuryyacht #megayach
What a beast #fbreels23 #fbreels #fbpost #fbviral #fbreels23 #viralshorts #facebookshorts #facebookreels #reelsfb #viralfbreel #yacht #yachtlife #yachting #yachts #lilyachty #superyacht #yachtclub...
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In 1932, a young German named Oskar Speck set off from Hamburg with a folding kayak and a modest goal: to reach Cyprus for work in the copper mines. But what began as a practical journey turned into an epic seven-year odyssey spanning over 50,000 kilometers. Speck paddled through rivers and seas across Europe, the Middle East, India, and Southeast Asia, surviving malaria, theft, storms, and isolation. Locals were stunned by the sight of a lone man in a collapsible kayak, fueled by sheer determination and the occasional coconut or sardine.
In 1939, he finally reached Australian shores — exhausted, triumphant, and unaware that World War II had just begun. To the authorities, he wasn’t a hero but a German national, and he was arrested on arrival. Speck spent the next seven years interned in camps, only gaining freedom in 1946. Choosing not to return to Germany, he settled in Lightning Ridge, mining opals and living quietly. He never sought fame, simply saying, “I am satisfied. I know what I’ve done.” Oskar Speck died in 1993 at age 86, his unmatched journey still standing as one of the greatest feats in kayaking history.
In 1939, he finally reached Australian shores — exhausted, triumphant, and unaware that World War II had just begun. To the authorities, he wasn’t a hero but a German national, and he was arrested on arrival. Speck spent the next seven years interned in camps, only gaining freedom in 1946. Choosing not to return to Germany, he settled in Lightning Ridge, mining opals and living quietly. He never sought fame, simply saying, “I am satisfied. I know what I’ve done.” Oskar Speck died in 1993 at age 86, his unmatched journey still standing as one of the greatest feats in kayaking history.
In early October 1892, brothers Bob, Grat, and Emmett Dalton, along with Bill Power and Dick Broadwell set out toward Coffeyville, Kansas. Arriving on the evening of October 4 at the P.L. Davis farm four miles west of Coffeyville, they made camp for the night and prepared for the next day.
Early on the morning of October 5, 1892, the five outlaws rode into Coffeyville shortly after 9:00 a.m. to find the city’s streets filled with people. Tying their horses in an alley across from the banks, they dismounted and marched down the alley, three in front and two in the rear. The outlaws, disguised with false beards, divided into two groups, with Grat, Power, and Broadwell entering the C.M. Condon & Co. Bank and Bob and Emmett crossing the plaza to enter the First National Bank.
Disguise or no, when they left the alley, they passed within five feet of a man by the name of Aleck McKenna, who recognized one of them as a member of the Dalton family. He watched the men as they entered the bank, and when he saw a gun pointed at the cashier’s counter in the Condon Bank, he called out, “The bank is being robbed!” The cry was taken up and quickly passed to everyone around the square. Wasting no time, the local townsmen quickly armed themselves with weapons from the hardware store and took up positions to defend the town.
Inside the Condon Bank were C.T. Carpenter, one of the owners; Tom C. Babb, bookkeeper; and Charles M. Ball, cashier. They were quickly taken hostage by the outlaws and ordered to surrender the money. But quick-thinking cashier Ball told them there was a time lock on the vault and that it could not be opened for another 10 minutes. Grat, Power, and Broadwell were fooled into waiting, which gave the townsmen additional time to get themselves armed.
Meanwhile, at the First National Bank, Bob and Emmett captured Thomas G. Ayers, cashier, W.H. Shepard, and B.S. Ayers, bookkeeper, whom they forced to collect the money. At first, the two Dalton brothers tried to escape out the front door using the three bankers as a shield. But when the townsmen shot at them anyway, they decided to use the rear door.
While waiting at the Condon Bank, bullets began to punch through the bank windows, and Grat, Broadwell, and Power charged out of the bank into the plaza. All three were hit as they ran toward the alley. Bob and Emmett ran around a block, pausing long enough to kill two citizens, and entered the alley at about the same time that Grat and the others got there.
Finding cover behind an oil tank, Grat fired several wild shots as John J. Kloehr, Carey Seamen, and Marshall Connelly followed them into the alley.
Grat shot and killed Marshal Connelly. Someone hit Bob Dalton, who sat down, fired several aimless shots, slumped over, and died. John Kloehr put the wounded Grat down for good with a bullet in the neck. Power died in the dust about 10 feet away. Already mortally wounded, Broadwell got to his horse and rode a half-mile toward safety before he pitched out of the saddle and died on the road.
Early on the morning of October 5, 1892, the five outlaws rode into Coffeyville shortly after 9:00 a.m. to find the city’s streets filled with people. Tying their horses in an alley across from the banks, they dismounted and marched down the alley, three in front and two in the rear. The outlaws, disguised with false beards, divided into two groups, with Grat, Power, and Broadwell entering the C.M. Condon & Co. Bank and Bob and Emmett crossing the plaza to enter the First National Bank.
Disguise or no, when they left the alley, they passed within five feet of a man by the name of Aleck McKenna, who recognized one of them as a member of the Dalton family. He watched the men as they entered the bank, and when he saw a gun pointed at the cashier’s counter in the Condon Bank, he called out, “The bank is being robbed!” The cry was taken up and quickly passed to everyone around the square. Wasting no time, the local townsmen quickly armed themselves with weapons from the hardware store and took up positions to defend the town.
Inside the Condon Bank were C.T. Carpenter, one of the owners; Tom C. Babb, bookkeeper; and Charles M. Ball, cashier. They were quickly taken hostage by the outlaws and ordered to surrender the money. But quick-thinking cashier Ball told them there was a time lock on the vault and that it could not be opened for another 10 minutes. Grat, Power, and Broadwell were fooled into waiting, which gave the townsmen additional time to get themselves armed.
Meanwhile, at the First National Bank, Bob and Emmett captured Thomas G. Ayers, cashier, W.H. Shepard, and B.S. Ayers, bookkeeper, whom they forced to collect the money. At first, the two Dalton brothers tried to escape out the front door using the three bankers as a shield. But when the townsmen shot at them anyway, they decided to use the rear door.
While waiting at the Condon Bank, bullets began to punch through the bank windows, and Grat, Broadwell, and Power charged out of the bank into the plaza. All three were hit as they ran toward the alley. Bob and Emmett ran around a block, pausing long enough to kill two citizens, and entered the alley at about the same time that Grat and the others got there.
Finding cover behind an oil tank, Grat fired several wild shots as John J. Kloehr, Carey Seamen, and Marshall Connelly followed them into the alley.
Grat shot and killed Marshal Connelly. Someone hit Bob Dalton, who sat down, fired several aimless shots, slumped over, and died. John Kloehr put the wounded Grat down for good with a bullet in the neck. Power died in the dust about 10 feet away. Already mortally wounded, Broadwell got to his horse and rode a half-mile toward safety before he pitched out of the saddle and died on the road.
Henry II | Corniche Shooting Brake | Niels van Roij Design
With this dramatically styled vehicle Niels van Roij Design subtly link back to the hay days of shooting brakes in the 1930’s.
nielsvanroij.com
No Loomies then Steve!
I totally disagree with those rankings.
I've not been to any of them...but that doesn't seem to matter.
These so-called-cafes...make me sick - they only do it for the money you know!
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If it didn't have the Ford badges I'd have guessed that was a restomod of a Japanese car.
I don't know where it came from, just thought some might find it interesting.
I went to ‘The Monkey Pot’ nr Selby t’other week, I’m surprised it was in the top 100.
The Faun cafe is quite good, if you like Lancasters.
The Old Smithy used to be good, went downhill when they started using frozen chips.
Squires is Squires, it’s a visit for the ambience rather than refreshment, a lot goes off, but it’s not the best cafe in the area, by a long chalk.
The Chequered Flag at Darley Race circuit is good if it’s open, but it often isn’t.
I can think of half a dozen cafes that are better than the best (that I’ve visited) on that list.