173 - PDF - The Rider's Digest
173 - PDF - The Rider's Digest
173 - PDF - The Rider's Digest
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Issue <strong>173</strong><br />
December 2012<br />
WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK
Contents...<br />
4. From the editor…<br />
A rolling magazine<br />
gathers no moss – just<br />
a whole load of top-notch<br />
contributors!<br />
7. In the Saddle<br />
Criticism – and the<br />
solution, praise,<br />
an apology, and more<br />
praise – just your average<br />
TRD postbag then!<br />
12. Rider’s Lives<br />
Apocalypse Anytime! Nik’s<br />
got the machines<br />
14. Image of the Month<br />
Classic close up<br />
16. Six & the City<br />
Things that go bump in<br />
the morning<br />
Editor<br />
Dave Gurman<br />
Assistant editor<br />
Peter Martin<br />
Design<br />
Simon Gardner<br />
Web site<br />
Stewart Pettey<br />
21. Paddy’s Perspective<br />
Euro MoT isn’t so super<br />
25. <strong>The</strong> Boy Biker<br />
Word-up on keeping warm<br />
without expensive kit<br />
27. Nuts & Bolts<br />
<strong>The</strong> correct procedure for<br />
storing a motorcycle<br />
28. Two Wheels To <strong>The</strong> End<br />
Of <strong>The</strong> World<br />
Crossing the equator<br />
in Ecuador<br />
56. Milwaukee Megalith<br />
Everybody’s<br />
got an opinion about<br />
the Electraglide<br />
76. Motorcycle Live 2012<br />
Blez reports on Birmingham<br />
Contributors<br />
Tinks, Paddy Tyson, George Smith, Rod Young,<br />
Paul Browne, <strong>The</strong>girlybiker, Dave Newman,<br />
Paul Blezard, Andy Overton, Roger Tuson,<br />
Martin Haskell, Oldlongdog, Jonathan Boorstein<br />
Photographs<br />
Paul Browne, Dave Gurman, <strong>The</strong>girlybiker,<br />
Paul Blezard, Roger Tuson, Martin Haskell,<br />
Peter Martin<br />
94. Happiness Is Just Around<br />
<strong>The</strong> Bend<br />
Chasing fun on fast bikes<br />
108. Thank You Mr Honda<br />
How does a thoroughbred<br />
manage when it’s pressed<br />
into doing donkey work?<br />
122. Treading <strong>The</strong> Boards<br />
Riding the many Mod<br />
waves with Medway<br />
Scooters<br />
132. Fear & Loathing in<br />
LA LA Land<br />
What’s the best way to<br />
tackle raging insecurity?<br />
Cartoons<br />
Simon Kewer<br />
<strong>The</strong> opinions and comments of contributors<br />
within this magazine do not necessarily reflect the<br />
opinions of the editor.<br />
142. <strong>The</strong> Magic Roundabout<br />
A circular tale of history<br />
and etiquette<br />
153. Motorcycle Girl Racer<br />
Girls are busting out<br />
all over!<br />
157. Book Review<br />
Poetry in motion?<br />
Waxing lyrical about<br />
bikes<br />
169. Bitz<br />
When waterproof means<br />
just that<br />
Contacts<br />
Editorial<br />
Dave Gurman<br />
+44 (0) 20 8707 0655<br />
+44 (0) 7948 897093<br />
editor@theridersdigest.co.uk<br />
Advertising<br />
Peter Martin<br />
+44 (0) 7973 818579<br />
advertising@theridersdigest.co.uk<br />
2 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
3
From the editor...<br />
This time last year I was<br />
sitting at this computer<br />
planning issue 164 of <strong>The</strong><br />
Rider’s <strong>Digest</strong> – the first<br />
online edition. A few days<br />
earlier I’d been in a pub in<br />
London’s West End with<br />
a group of TRD regulars,<br />
most of whom I’d known for<br />
years, at an event that had<br />
originally been arranged<br />
by the magazine’s last<br />
management as a wake<br />
to “reminisce, cry into our<br />
alcohol and contemplate the<br />
future without the <strong>Digest</strong>”.<br />
It had been in September<br />
when I received word that<br />
the <strong>Digest</strong> had finally gone<br />
bust. <strong>The</strong> news wasn’t totally<br />
unexpected; I’d resigned<br />
as editor in July 2009 after<br />
I’d been told for the third<br />
month in succession that we<br />
weren’t going to have the<br />
money to put the issue out.<br />
<strong>The</strong> previous edition – 140 –<br />
had been the biggest ever at<br />
132 pages and was as close<br />
as I was likely to come to the<br />
sort of variety and balance<br />
of content I’d been aspiring<br />
to ever since I took over as<br />
editor three-and-a-half years<br />
earlier; so after a lot of soul<br />
searching I decided that I’d<br />
prefer to walk away proud of<br />
what I’d achieved, rather than<br />
hanging on by my fingernails<br />
while the magazine, which<br />
had been a massive part of<br />
my life since the turn of the<br />
century, wasted away month<br />
by month.<br />
Six days before the<br />
scheduled date, I sent an<br />
email entitled “Make the<br />
wake a reawakening” that<br />
said, “Hi Everyone, When I<br />
received the message below<br />
(the original “Make the wake”<br />
invitation), way back at the<br />
end of September, I checked<br />
my address book and created<br />
an email with the contents of<br />
my ‘TRD Contributors’ file with<br />
the intention of extending<br />
the invitation to all of you. I<br />
was aware at the time that<br />
it didn’t contain a definitive<br />
list of every individual who<br />
had been involved with the<br />
magazine during my period as<br />
editor, but I figured that I’d add<br />
a few words of my own, plus the<br />
addresses of anyone else who<br />
came to mind and forward it as<br />
soon as…<br />
“However, the same day<br />
I received the details of the<br />
‘Wake’ I was copied in (as<br />
were a number of you) to<br />
an email from Roger (Tuson<br />
– the magazine’s founder)<br />
entitled “Is there a future<br />
for TRD?” and as any of you<br />
who were party to the ensuing<br />
discussions will be aware there<br />
was a fair bit of discourse about<br />
the various non-print options<br />
that were available (and the<br />
efficacy and future proofness<br />
of the various formats) but<br />
the only thing that just about<br />
everyone agreed on, was that<br />
in the short to medium term at<br />
least, it was unlikely to be any<br />
sort of money-spinner.<br />
“Never one to be overly<br />
hung up with the financial<br />
details, I decided that I would<br />
relish the opportunity to<br />
produce an all new version<br />
of the old school TRD online<br />
and after exploring how that<br />
might be possible, I put up a<br />
post on the discussion board<br />
on November 8 th stating my<br />
intention of doing precisely<br />
that unless there were any<br />
objections. And as I haven’t<br />
received any to date that’s<br />
exactly what I am going<br />
to be doing.<br />
“Consequently, whether<br />
you had originally planned to<br />
attend the wake or not, if you<br />
are as happy to drink to the<br />
reawakening of <strong>The</strong> Rider’s<br />
<strong>Digest</strong> as you were to raise a<br />
glass to its corpse, please come<br />
along to <strong>The</strong> Pontefract Castle<br />
this Saturday and be a part of<br />
the synchronicity and synergy<br />
that made TRD a significant<br />
part of many of our lives.<br />
(Obviously if you can’t or just<br />
plain don’t want to be there, it<br />
will not exclude you in any way<br />
from future involvement with<br />
the magazine).<br />
“Looking forward to<br />
hearing from you, or better still<br />
seeing you Saturday night.<br />
DG x”<br />
For the sake of anyone who<br />
hasn’t seen our entire archive<br />
(although that begs the<br />
question, WHY NOT!? It’s free<br />
to access and contains some<br />
of the best and most honest<br />
motorcycle writing available<br />
anywhere on the Internet!),<br />
when the first online edition<br />
came out it in March this year<br />
it matched the 132 pages<br />
of my last printed mag and<br />
presented a healthy mixture<br />
of original material from old<br />
<strong>Digest</strong> favourites, alongside a<br />
sprinkling of newcomers and<br />
a few choice repeats.<br />
After explaining that<br />
we’d made a far better job of<br />
assembling the features than<br />
we had with the advertising,<br />
my editorial in 164 went on to<br />
say, “For the moment at least<br />
<strong>The</strong> Rider’s <strong>Digest</strong> is just<br />
floating in space without any<br />
apparent means of support,<br />
existing by the sheer force of<br />
its own will and held together<br />
by all the fantastic content<br />
that we have spent weeks<br />
getting together.” I rounded<br />
it off saying, “So even if this<br />
turns out to be our first and<br />
last online edition, we owe<br />
it to all the contributors who<br />
so generously gave us their<br />
words and photos, and all the<br />
old <strong>Digest</strong> readers who were<br />
so excited at the prospect<br />
of being able to read their<br />
favourite bike mag again, to<br />
put it out there anyway.”<br />
And here we are with<br />
our tenth online issue and<br />
the magazine has built up so<br />
much momentum that I’m not<br />
sure I’d know how to stop it<br />
even if I wanted to.<br />
Ever since 164 hit the<br />
ether, we’ve been picking<br />
up new contributors from<br />
around the world. Thomas<br />
Day wrote to us from the<br />
American Midwest in full<br />
Grumpy Geezer mode<br />
complaining bitterly about<br />
our non roadtest of the Honda<br />
NC700 in issue 165 but found<br />
that he really related to the<br />
honesty of our response and<br />
went on to produce a couple<br />
of great articles for us (and<br />
will be following them up<br />
with more of the same in the<br />
coming months). Tom Stewart<br />
was equally unimpressed by<br />
the same anarchic piece, but<br />
it didn’t prevent him from<br />
producing a fascinating<br />
feature about visiting the<br />
Somme battlefields on<br />
the new Triumph Tiger in<br />
issue 167. And so it goes on;<br />
whether it’s words, pictures,<br />
or both, I have the good<br />
fortune to be able to draw on<br />
an ever-expanding pool of<br />
international contributors.<br />
This month’s addition is<br />
Andy Overton from Doncaster<br />
(well that’s international for<br />
the 37.5% of our readers who<br />
are outside the UK and I know<br />
quite a few London riders<br />
who regard anything beyond<br />
the M25 as a foreign country).<br />
He wrote in to complain<br />
about the appalling dearth<br />
of sportsbikes in TRD and<br />
I replied promptly, agreeing<br />
wholeheartedly and asking<br />
if he’d like to help us to<br />
fill that void. I was very<br />
impressed with his efforts<br />
so that’s yet another pair<br />
of wheels to keep the TRD<br />
bandwagon rolling.<br />
Interestingly the metaphors<br />
Andy picked to describe the<br />
blissful sensations he feels<br />
on the road where so similar<br />
to the ones the Boy Biker<br />
had employed last month,<br />
it was obvious he couldn’t<br />
have read the youngster’s<br />
column. When I pointed this<br />
out to Andy he wanted to<br />
scrap his article and re-write<br />
it but I prevailed on him not<br />
to because, aside from the<br />
fact that it’s a damn good<br />
piece of writing, frankly, I<br />
thought it was fascinating<br />
that two riders separated by<br />
a quarter of a century, around<br />
180 miles and over 50bhp,<br />
would choose the same<br />
stimulants to bolster their<br />
individual attempts to evoke<br />
the sheer ecstasy to be had on<br />
a powered two-wheeler.<br />
Dave Gurman<br />
WARNING:Everything<br />
below here is a cynical Xmas<br />
commercial so caveat emptor<br />
should be the prevailing<br />
principle but at six quid<br />
a time <strong>The</strong> Carin’ Sharin’<br />
Chronicles could be your<br />
ridiculously cheap one stop<br />
pressie solution (and if you<br />
send me instructions, I’ll<br />
inscribe anything you want<br />
in it at no extra charge).<br />
Austin Vince wrote, ”A genius<br />
friend of mine once said:<br />
“It’s a shame that nowadays<br />
bikes are boringly perfect and<br />
Bike mags are perfectly<br />
boring”. Naturally, he wasn’t<br />
referring to the fabulous<br />
Rider’s <strong>Digest</strong>! DG’s<br />
contributions to this landmark<br />
publication remind one of the<br />
simple joys of motorcycling.<br />
His charming turns of phrase<br />
and effortless bonhomie<br />
stand in stark contrast to so<br />
much contemporary<br />
motorcycle journalism. DG<br />
makes you glad that you’re<br />
riding and glad that you’re<br />
reading.” Sam Manicom said,<br />
“DG is blindingly honest,<br />
funny, never PC… When I<br />
picked this book up, I couldn’t<br />
put it down.” And Harriet<br />
Ridley’s Mirror Group review<br />
began, “I have three words for<br />
DG’s book – I love it!”<br />
(See the adverts on pages<br />
120 and 158 for further details!<br />
Hurry, hurry, hurry! Buy,<br />
buy, buy!)<br />
Catch Dave every Thursday<br />
between 6 and 8pm (GMT) on<br />
www.bikerfm.co.uk<br />
4 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
5
In <strong>The</strong> Saddle...<br />
Dave,<br />
Just finished reading TRD<br />
172. You seem to be keen on<br />
getting feedback so here goes.<br />
I feel adventuretoured-out.<br />
In fact, I feel a bit homesick.<br />
I’ve never gone touring on a<br />
bike, nor have I any particular<br />
desire to do so. But, as with<br />
many other activities which<br />
I have never done and<br />
don’t particularly want to,<br />
this doesn’t mean I’m not<br />
interested in reading about the<br />
exploits of others. But there<br />
is a limit and I got just about<br />
there in the latest edition.<br />
I’d quite like to see a bit<br />
more of a balance of UK-based<br />
stuff. I’d also like to see a bit<br />
more about sportsbikes and<br />
sportsbike riders. No, no, I’m<br />
not asking you to turn TRD into<br />
Performance Bikes, that’s the<br />
point. PB suffers from all the<br />
restrictions of having to feed<br />
its audience the right message<br />
to satisfy the advertisers. I<br />
just think that TRD might be<br />
able to write about the sector<br />
from a different angle – the<br />
angle of real sportsbike riders?<br />
Normal people who enjoy fast<br />
bikes but who don’t buy into<br />
all the gotta-have BS. Which<br />
is pretty close to the spirit of<br />
the adventure touring stuff<br />
but from a quite unconnected<br />
demographic. <strong>The</strong> getting<br />
there is still more important<br />
than the arriving.<br />
<strong>The</strong>re must be some<br />
frustrated sportsbike journos<br />
out there who would love<br />
the freedom that TRD would<br />
provide? Let’s hear from them.<br />
Just thinking aloud, in case<br />
it’s helpful.<br />
Regards<br />
Andy Overton<br />
Note to readers: I wrote<br />
straight back to Andy and<br />
suggested that as he had done<br />
such a good job of articulating<br />
both what have been missing<br />
and the solution, he might be<br />
just the ‘frustrated sportsbike<br />
journo’ we need to provide our<br />
readers with an insight into the<br />
wonderful head-down arse-up<br />
world of sportsbiking. And if you<br />
turn to page 94 you can see for<br />
yourself just how well he did! –<br />
Ed<br />
Hi Dave,<br />
Just to let you know my<br />
new Kindle, which my sons<br />
got me for my birthday, is a<br />
great way to read your mag<br />
in full colour, in the canteen,<br />
er sorry, ‘Staff Restaurant’ at<br />
lunchtime. But that’s not really<br />
why I’m writing. I read the first<br />
few pages and then got to<br />
the Heartbreak Hotel article<br />
written by Lois. It was to say<br />
the least the most compelling<br />
writing I’ve read for some<br />
time. My coffee hovered in my<br />
hand, frozen in time as I read<br />
this saddest of tales. If written<br />
as a piece of fiction then she<br />
has a calling as a writer. If it<br />
was a true experience then she<br />
is brave to air her innermost<br />
feelings in this way and my<br />
heart goes out to her. It was<br />
truly touching.<br />
Please pass on my best<br />
wishes and congratulations on<br />
an excellent piece.<br />
<strong>The</strong>re are a couple of other<br />
6 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
7
In <strong>The</strong> Saddle... In <strong>The</strong> Saddle...<br />
things I’d like to air, firstly<br />
‘Filtering’, is it really necessary<br />
ALL the time. In my fifties as<br />
I am, I don’t feel the need to<br />
weave in and out of traffic to<br />
get to where I’m going in a<br />
hurry. Perhaps it’s because<br />
retirement is creeping up<br />
and I don’t have that ‘Rush’<br />
desire that seems to prevail<br />
throughout our working lives.<br />
Perhaps its because I like to<br />
be riding my bike for as long<br />
as possible, even if that means<br />
just sitting watching the<br />
world go by and waiting my<br />
turn to reach the traffic lights,<br />
roundabout or whatever. To<br />
me filtering means getting<br />
there sooner, which means less<br />
time on the bike. Fine if you<br />
need to get to that meeting,<br />
lunch date or supermarket<br />
before it shuts but then<br />
doesn’t all that rushing about<br />
take a bit of the fun out if it?<br />
<strong>The</strong> other point is to<br />
do with, dare I say it, that<br />
degenerate breed known as<br />
the Fair Weather Rider… one of<br />
which I am becoming. Derided<br />
as we are, by the day-glow<br />
leather clad youngsters who<br />
would leap on their bikes in a<br />
blizzard, for only riding when<br />
the British summer allows, is<br />
becoming a way of life now. As<br />
I mentioned above, I’ll not see<br />
50 again and the inevitable<br />
creaking signs of arthritis are<br />
beginning to make themselves<br />
known (yes I know I’m still a<br />
youngster at heart) but riding<br />
in the pouring rain, freezing<br />
wind and slippery snow are<br />
not conducive to good health.<br />
So I would like to stand up for<br />
all Fair Weather Riders who<br />
have reached that point of<br />
maturity when riding for fun<br />
is more important then just<br />
‘blindly’ riding.<br />
Keep up the good work as<br />
I’d be lost at lunchtime if I had<br />
to read a newspaper full of bad<br />
news.<br />
Cheers<br />
Nick Lojik<br />
Leeds<br />
I’m glad to hear that the<br />
<strong>Digest</strong> plays a crucial part in<br />
your digestive process Nick. I<br />
forwarded your email to Lois<br />
and she was delighted that her<br />
entirely true story struck such<br />
a chord. However, while I am<br />
100% with you when it comes<br />
to her heart-wrenching tale, I<br />
feel I must beg to differ when<br />
you say, “doesn’t all that rushing<br />
about take a bit of the fun out<br />
if it?” because – as you might<br />
have already guessed from my<br />
editorials – I come from a more<br />
or less diametrically different<br />
point of view! But that doesn’t<br />
mean that I’m right and you’re<br />
wrong, it simply illustrates that<br />
we each come at biking from our<br />
own perspectives. Surely one of<br />
TRD’s greatest attractions is that<br />
it is one of the only magazines<br />
anywhere that actively courts<br />
the widest possible range of bike<br />
related ideas and opinions. We<br />
are proud to provide a forum<br />
where anyone can express<br />
their views without fear of<br />
being censored or belittled so<br />
of course we understand and<br />
empathise with your attitude to<br />
fair weather riding (although,<br />
personally, I’ve got to say that<br />
I thought it was us southerners<br />
who were supposed to be the<br />
softies!) – Ed<br />
Hi David,<br />
Stuck in a hospital room,<br />
re-reading #172, I finally got<br />
around to your editorial. “I<br />
really don’t get the kind of<br />
tabloid thinking that seems to<br />
believe that if you replace the<br />
u and c between f and k with a<br />
couple of asterisks, it somehow<br />
protects the reader from the<br />
absolute awfulness of being<br />
confronted with the word<br />
itself!” I swear you are my twin<br />
brother, separated at birth by a<br />
small ocean. One of my latest<br />
geezerly moves, when people<br />
act offended by my language<br />
or attitude, has been “When<br />
do I get to be offended at your<br />
assumption of superiority over<br />
my 1st Amendment rights?”<br />
Thomas Day<br />
Minnesota<br />
Dave,<br />
Firstly, a massive thanks for<br />
resurrecting TRD… I used to<br />
enjoy the occasional issue in<br />
care packages from Wemoto<br />
back to Ireland.<br />
Any chance you could<br />
format the <strong>PDF</strong> edition as<br />
single (portrait) pages though?<br />
This would work very well<br />
on smart phones and tablets<br />
(iPads etc) – where the twinpage<br />
format is messy.<br />
Most <strong>PDF</strong> readers will still<br />
show a two-page spread for<br />
those reading on wide-screen<br />
PCs and Laptops.<br />
Regards<br />
Proinnsias Breathnach<br />
Dublin<br />
Eire<br />
Our designer informed<br />
me, “It is exported in single<br />
page mode from InDesign.<br />
Even if I export as single page<br />
continuous it will still create<br />
DPSs (Double Page Spreads).”<br />
By way of illustration he sent<br />
me a 40-page continuous file,<br />
which I tried on my phone but<br />
it behaved exactly the same as<br />
the <strong>PDF</strong>s usually do, which – on<br />
an iPhone at least – meant that<br />
it was straightforward to resize it<br />
to fit a single page and then flick<br />
through them. Are we missing<br />
something P? – Ed<br />
Hi Dave,<br />
First off I unreservedly<br />
apologise to Paul Nicholas<br />
Blezard for the untruths I<br />
spread about him last month.<br />
My bad.<br />
To be honest I knew the<br />
facts but hate the celebrity<br />
thing. It has always been<br />
with us, Bill Shakespeare<br />
commented on it in Henry<br />
IV pt.2.<br />
Some famous Greek whose<br />
name I forget complained about<br />
them too. 10,000 years ago<br />
when Dave and my common<br />
ancestor was scratching on a<br />
cave wall you can bet some<br />
fart in an Armani skin suit and<br />
Gucci flint axe strolled past<br />
and drawled’ silly twit, trying<br />
to think for himself. It’ll never<br />
catch on’.<br />
Secondly I have never<br />
had any truck with post<br />
Constantine Western<br />
Christianity’s idea of original<br />
sin. Sex is not dirty, it is<br />
fun, important and in my<br />
case private. I know from<br />
experience that I will never<br />
take part in an orgy. I have<br />
however had a prostitute (in<br />
Osnabruck, Germany 1978) as<br />
a friend. I tried to chat her up in<br />
the Guinness pub and was told<br />
in no uncertain terms that she<br />
had just finished an eight-hour<br />
shift in the House of Bremen<br />
(known to us squaddies as the<br />
house of dogs) and was not<br />
interested in more work. We<br />
became friends and I did get<br />
to ask that question, and be<br />
told the answer. She hated her<br />
job, loathed her customers but<br />
was on an exceptional salary<br />
and was half way through<br />
a five-year stint that would<br />
enable her and her husband<br />
(in the German Navy learning<br />
his trade) to set up shop.<br />
I too have had a job I<br />
loathed but paid the bills,<br />
though not as much (either<br />
money or loathed) as that lass<br />
I suspect.<br />
I hope they succeeded.<br />
For my attitude to the<br />
wrong kind of professionalism<br />
listen to Frank Zappa’s ‘Flakes’.<br />
On a completely different tack<br />
I made the point a couple of<br />
months ago that I didn’t think<br />
motorcycling was dangerous.<br />
If I did I wouldn’t do it.<br />
Leaving Lidl’s (other<br />
German supermarkets are<br />
available, but not in my area)<br />
the other Saturday a driver on<br />
my side of the road stopped<br />
and waved me out. <strong>The</strong> other<br />
side of the road was clear so I<br />
rode off to stop at the Cowley<br />
roundabout. <strong>The</strong>re was a lass<br />
driving an open top Audi on<br />
my RHS. <strong>The</strong>re are four sets<br />
of lights on this roundabout<br />
and they play their own game.<br />
<strong>The</strong> lights turned green and<br />
she floored it. As she couldn’t<br />
go forward the only space left<br />
was where I was aiming for<br />
so I sat back and let her go. I<br />
then hit the horn and filtered<br />
forward alongside of her as we<br />
waited for the next set of lights<br />
to change. As I drew alongside<br />
at the front I got a very small<br />
voiced ‘I’m sorry’. So after a<br />
few seconds to calm down I<br />
acknowledged the apology.<br />
My point is that at no time<br />
was I in any danger because I<br />
was watching all around me<br />
automatically and realised<br />
what she was going to do<br />
in time for it not to matter. I<br />
know as a twenty year old I<br />
would not have done so (the<br />
army can be a great education<br />
in keeping your lids peeled<br />
and biking should make you<br />
aware of what is going on<br />
around you) and she would<br />
8 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
9
In <strong>The</strong> Saddle...<br />
have knocked me into the<br />
path of the cars on my LHS and<br />
that’s me dead. I think a lot<br />
more than some built in body<br />
armour and a helmet would<br />
have been needed to save<br />
my life.<br />
So motorcycling is<br />
dangerous but the best way to<br />
make it safer is to learn and the<br />
best way to learn is to keep riding.<br />
With today’s roads, drivers and<br />
conditions being a young rider is<br />
definitely dangerous.<br />
Which means, would it<br />
stop me if I was starting out<br />
again and forty four years<br />
younger? Bloody hope not.<br />
A number of times over the<br />
last few years I have discussed<br />
events like this with fellow<br />
motorcyclists at rallies and my<br />
fallback attitude of defensive<br />
riding has been criticised.<br />
A standard comment in<br />
this situation is I should have<br />
taken his/her mirror out.<br />
Well first I have never<br />
practised this and second<br />
what does it gain? Craig<br />
Ashby’s father (letters TRD<br />
171) is certainly going to be<br />
more alert in looking for two<br />
wheelers now, as will this lass<br />
in the Audi. I wonder what<br />
Craig’s father’s reaction would<br />
have been to a violent attack<br />
on his car? This lass would have<br />
probably felt bikers were fair<br />
game now and she had been<br />
right all the time. Nowadays<br />
mirrors cost over £250.00 to<br />
replace. Lives are irreplaceable<br />
as an individual but is us<br />
against them an attitude we<br />
want to encourage.<br />
I have always believed<br />
that to step back and prevent<br />
escalation is the best way of<br />
not getting anyone more hurt<br />
than is necessary; the last two<br />
wars have merely confirmed<br />
this. To take that analogy<br />
further would it have been<br />
so bad to have failed to step<br />
into WW1? At least WW2 and<br />
the holocaust would almost<br />
certainly not have happened<br />
with a probable lack of the<br />
Middle East problem we have<br />
now. Oh and a large number<br />
of punters would have lived<br />
longer too.<br />
Call me a coward if you like<br />
(Dave will give you my address,<br />
write “You are a coward” on a<br />
twenty pound note, include<br />
a white feather and mail it to<br />
me) and it does sometimes<br />
spoil a good story but real life<br />
ain’t a story and Dave needs all<br />
the live readers he can get.<br />
Ride Safe<br />
An ancient Guzzisti<br />
Ian Dunmore<br />
You’re a very naughty man<br />
Mr D, it’s a good job Blez has a<br />
robust sense of humour! – Ed<br />
Hello Jonathan,<br />
I assume you are the JB who<br />
does the motorcycle book reviews<br />
in TRD? If not, discard this email<br />
immediately and have a nice day.<br />
I have been enjoying reading<br />
your thoughtful and forensic<br />
reviews in the magazine – very<br />
often it’s the best thing in there.<br />
You really do seem to know<br />
what you are writing about<br />
and many books get more<br />
analysis than they deserve –<br />
including ones I suspected as<br />
being turkeys without going<br />
near them.<br />
It’s rare that this genre gets<br />
such professional attention.<br />
I think you or TRD should<br />
consider making some sort of<br />
online archive or separate blog<br />
of your book reviews.<br />
TRD are lucky to have<br />
you and I look forward to<br />
reading more.<br />
Best wishes<br />
Michael Berg<br />
Nottingham<br />
Spot on Michael. Jon<br />
forwarded your email just in<br />
case I failed to appreciate what<br />
a wonderful asset he is to this<br />
publication; but I have never<br />
been under any illusions on that<br />
count. In fact I readily accept<br />
credit for asking him to become<br />
our book reviewer in the first<br />
place and for immediately<br />
recognising that his detailed<br />
dissections would quickly build<br />
into a unique resource. We are<br />
currently having an all new<br />
super duper, all singing and<br />
dancing web site put together,<br />
and once it’s up and running,<br />
Jon’s entire archive will just a<br />
click away – Ed<br />
10 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
11
Rider’s Lives<br />
Name: Nik Samson<br />
What was your first<br />
motorcycling experience?<br />
Umm, think I was about 12.<br />
My uncle had a C50 (or 70 or<br />
90, dunno) and he let me have<br />
a quick go up the drive of his<br />
house in Old Buckenham in<br />
Norfolk. Well, that’s what he<br />
intended me to do anyway<br />
– I actually just disappeared<br />
off down the road, sans lid,<br />
round the village and came<br />
back about 10 mins later to a<br />
right royal bollocking. Shades<br />
of things to come perhaps?<br />
What is your current bike?<br />
Got five (six if you include<br />
the mini-moto version of one<br />
of my big bikes that lives in<br />
me lounge) – insane-looking<br />
CB750 thing with a 750 Gixer<br />
motor (the granddaddy of<br />
all rat/survival bikes, built<br />
by BSH magazine in 1984),<br />
equally mad GSX1100 with 2CV<br />
headlights and knobbly tyres<br />
(<strong>The</strong> Changeling, another very<br />
famous rat), single-sided front<br />
end Bandit streetfighter that<br />
came second in last year’s<br />
Britain’s Got Biking Talent<br />
comp against bikes costing<br />
£40k plus, a GPZ900 trike with<br />
a 300 section front wheel and<br />
a stainless steel IRS back end,<br />
and a GSX-R 1100-engined<br />
Katana that’s still being built<br />
at the mo’.<br />
What bike would you most<br />
like to ride/own?<br />
Kaneda’s bike from<br />
Akira and/or Jack Shit’s hubcentre-steered<br />
Katana from<br />
Bloodrunners… one day.<br />
What was your hairiest<br />
moment on a bike?<br />
Probably the crash in 2005<br />
when I was forced onto the<br />
wrong side of the road on a<br />
Mille and hit a car head-on.<br />
<strong>The</strong> bike exploded in a huge<br />
fireball and I was thrown at<br />
least 65 feet and landed on<br />
me head. Bit gutted really,<br />
never been in a helicopter<br />
before and, even though I was<br />
air-lifted to hospital, I don’t<br />
remember it.<br />
What was your most<br />
memorable ride?<br />
Probably riding into<br />
Silverton in New South Wales<br />
(where they filmed ‘Mad Max<br />
2’) on the Honda/Gixer thing<br />
(shipped it over specially) in<br />
2010 for the 30th anniversary<br />
of the film and getting<br />
escorted by a yellow/blue/<br />
red Mad Max pursuit car and<br />
a black Interceptor with all the<br />
lights and sirens going. Just<br />
mind-blowing for a Mad Max<br />
freak like meself…<br />
What would be the ideal<br />
soundtrack to the above?<br />
I think the sirens and<br />
flashing lights were music<br />
enough – anything else would<br />
have been an anti-climax…<br />
What do you think is the best<br />
thing about motorcycling?<br />
<strong>The</strong> people who do it,<br />
really. <strong>The</strong>re are a lot of arse’oles<br />
(a hell of a lot!), but I’ve met<br />
some really good folk through<br />
biking that I wouldn’t have<br />
done otherwise and they’ve<br />
become life-long friends. Can’t<br />
really ask more than that.<br />
What do you think is<br />
the worst thing about<br />
motorcycling?<br />
<strong>The</strong> indifference of the<br />
rest of the human race to<br />
how just a small error of<br />
judgment on their part can<br />
end someone on a bike’s life<br />
or leave them crippled for the<br />
rest of their natural days. You<br />
see it almost every day and<br />
it is depressing; the fact that<br />
you, as a motorcyclist, are<br />
really nothing more than an<br />
inconvenience to them, your<br />
life is nothing more than a<br />
slightly increased insurance<br />
premium…<br />
Name an improvement<br />
you’d like to see for the next<br />
generation?<br />
Don’t know about an<br />
improvement, but I’d like to<br />
see the cost of actually getting<br />
a motorcycle licence reduced,<br />
and fewer barriers to getting<br />
a big bike than there are<br />
currently (and they’ll only get<br />
worse come January). If things<br />
carry on the way they’re going,<br />
then the powers-that-be will<br />
manage to price us all off the<br />
road, rather than just legislate<br />
us as they’ve been trying to do<br />
previously.<br />
How would you like to be<br />
remembered?<br />
I’m not really fussed if I am<br />
or I’m not … I’m just a scruffbag<br />
who rides odd motorcycles<br />
and writes (reasonably)<br />
entertaining gibberish about<br />
them for a living, why should<br />
people in the future have any<br />
interest in me?<br />
12 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
13
14<br />
WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
Photograph © Dave Gurman<br />
15
Six and the City<br />
16 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK<br />
Saturday<br />
H a v i n g b e e n<br />
responsible with my R6 and<br />
got the MOT done on time,<br />
I was beginning to turn my<br />
thoughts to the DT.<br />
Coming in to winter<br />
and thinking it could<br />
probably do with a little<br />
TLC before it gets too cold,<br />
I rang Russell Motors and<br />
asked if they could give it a<br />
service and thorough check<br />
(as they are really good with<br />
2-strokes)<br />
So the little stink-wheel<br />
got dropped down to them<br />
on a busy Saturday morning<br />
and left with them for<br />
a week.<br />
Next Saturday, HB drops<br />
me down to Battersea on<br />
the back of the Hornet and<br />
we pick up the 2-stroke.<br />
“Did you check<br />
everything?”<br />
“Well, yes, but there’s<br />
not really a great deal<br />
to check on a 2-stroke.<br />
Changed the spark plug,<br />
tightened the clutch cable,<br />
bled the brakes, tightened<br />
the chain, cleaned the air<br />
filter, and put a new back<br />
tyre on”<br />
Not much then.<br />
As we got ready to<br />
leave, the twins reminded<br />
me that I had a new<br />
back tyre – “Be careful”<br />
Yes, I know. I have had<br />
new back tyres before.<br />
A steady ride home and<br />
a quick pit stop for fuel;<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
HB was frustrated with<br />
the traffic and went on<br />
ahead whereas I wanted<br />
to be careful and took it<br />
slower – ‘cos I had a new<br />
back tyre and quite frankly,<br />
sometimes I’m a bit of a girl.<br />
Monday<br />
As per usual, Monday<br />
came around all too quickly<br />
and I was kitted up, ready<br />
to get on the bike for<br />
my commute to work.<br />
It was colder that<br />
morning and I had my trusty<br />
old winter gloves on (not<br />
plugged in cos it wasn’t that<br />
cold). E n g i n e<br />
started OK but wasn’t<br />
really warm when I started<br />
off but with the plumes of<br />
blue smoke stinking out the<br />
neighbours, I don’t really<br />
like to leave it running for<br />
too long on the driveway<br />
with the choke on.<br />
As I got the end of<br />
my road, the engine was<br />
labouring a little and on<br />
both of my bikes, I have<br />
stalled it at the cross roads<br />
more times than I would<br />
care to admit.<br />
I have to take a righthander<br />
at this cross road<br />
and it’s quite a nasty<br />
junction; on-coming traffic<br />
from the left is obscured<br />
by parked cars, and traffic<br />
from the right is hidden by<br />
the top of the hill as it goes<br />
over the railway line. I’m<br />
turning on to the small hill<br />
which is also off-camber,<br />
and although it’s not a<br />
‘busy’ road, there is enough<br />
traffic to make it a pain in<br />
the arse to get round. I<br />
don’t like doing it in the<br />
car, let alone on two wheels.<br />
So, the road is clear and<br />
my engine is struggling a<br />
little in cold under low revs,<br />
so I give it a bit of welly to<br />
get round the corner (like I<br />
normally do) and in that split<br />
second of taking the corner,<br />
I forgot I had a new<br />
back tyre<br />
It reminded me of that<br />
fact pretty quickly as I highsided<br />
and was spat off on<br />
to the road with what felt<br />
like considerable force.<br />
Fuck me that hurt!<br />
As soon as I connected<br />
with the ground, I knew I<br />
had broken my wrist and<br />
walloped my knee; my bike<br />
had changed direction and<br />
we were both lying in the<br />
middle of the road.<br />
I lay on the ground for<br />
what felt like an eternity<br />
as two passers-by stopped<br />
to help me. <strong>The</strong>y were a<br />
little surprised to realise<br />
I was a girl but they<br />
were exceptionally kind.<br />
Posh lady with small<br />
children going to school<br />
wanted to ring for an<br />
ambulance but by then<br />
I was managing to sit up<br />
and crawl out of the road.<br />
“No, no. Please don’t.<br />
I’m OK”, all said with instant<br />
plumi-ness (what is it with<br />
17
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SIDETRACKED BY THE UNEXPECTED<br />
me and posh people?? I<br />
can’t help but go frightfully<br />
English when I’m around<br />
them).<br />
Posh bloke with<br />
Dalmatian on a lead helped<br />
me up and then picked my<br />
bike up out of the road.<br />
Small child on the way<br />
to school with posh lady<br />
picked up various bits of<br />
bike and lid that had fallen<br />
off and handed them to me.<br />
Posh bloke and<br />
Dalmation then offered to<br />
walk my bike back to my<br />
house, which luckily wasn’t<br />
far. All the way down we<br />
chatted and he kept asking<br />
if I was OK. I was walking<br />
(limping) and felt ok, other<br />
than being a bit achey so<br />
when we got to the drive<br />
way, I refused his assistance<br />
to take me to hospital (it’s<br />
only round the corner so I<br />
can do that bit myself)<br />
By now, adrenalin<br />
was wearing off and pain<br />
was kicking in, and I was<br />
in a lot of pain. I made<br />
a tearful call to HB and<br />
left a message along the<br />
lines of “Don’t worry, I’m<br />
OK but I’ve really hurt<br />
my wrist” and then broke in<br />
to sobs.<br />
I then rang my boss to<br />
tell her I wasn’t coming in.<br />
(“Hmmm… how long<br />
do you think you’ll be<br />
at A&E?”<br />
“I don’t know – a few<br />
hours I guess”<br />
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“Do you want me to pick<br />
you up in the morning?”)<br />
Whilst waiting to see the<br />
doctor for the results of my<br />
X-ray, Hornet Boy turned<br />
up. I was still feeling very<br />
sorry for myself and was<br />
going over it in my head,<br />
realising that in fact, it could<br />
have been lot worse. At<br />
least it didn’t happen on the<br />
main roundabout in town<br />
– that would have been<br />
a different story all together!<br />
HB gave me a gentle<br />
hug and listened to my tale<br />
of woe.<br />
“You’re right”, he said,<br />
“It could have been a lot<br />
worse… You could have<br />
been on my bike”<br />
18 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK<br />
www.sam-manicom.com<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
19
20 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
Motorcycle Action Group<br />
<strong>The</strong> Super MoT update (and<br />
why we should be proud [sic]<br />
of our MEPs)<br />
Back in issue 170, I wrote of<br />
the EU Commission’s proposal for<br />
a pan European Super MoT that<br />
would include regular testing of all<br />
bikes and scooters, as well as trailers,<br />
tractors and anything else that uses<br />
the public highway, excepting of<br />
course, emergency vehicles which<br />
are never driven at speed…<br />
Well things have moved<br />
on since issue 170, because,<br />
as a week is rather famously<br />
a long time in politics, a few<br />
months is a good deal longer,<br />
so here’s an update of what’s<br />
been happening in the world of<br />
MoT political negotiation. Deep<br />
breath, pretend you’re excited,<br />
and I’ll begin.<br />
<strong>The</strong> Dept for Transport<br />
contacted MAG and everyone<br />
else who may have an interest in<br />
this kind of thing, outlined how<br />
the British Government was<br />
interpreting the EU proposals<br />
and asked us to chip in. Round<br />
one went to the concept of<br />
inclusive government.<br />
<strong>The</strong> Swedish, French<br />
and Dutch Parliaments raced<br />
ahead and decided that they’d<br />
rather vote against the whole<br />
idea because the evidence<br />
21
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to support it was so slim and<br />
because it seemed, yet again, to<br />
be a disproportionate reaction<br />
to the size of the perceived<br />
problem. Perhaps it’s interesting<br />
to note that Sweden and the<br />
Netherlands lead the way in<br />
road safety and don’t have MoTs<br />
for bikes.<br />
On October 15 th DEKRA (the<br />
private company who provided<br />
the research and would love<br />
to regularly test every bike in<br />
Europe), held a big road safety<br />
event in Brussels, where they<br />
got the EU Commissioner in<br />
charge, Siim Kallas, to praise<br />
their research and explain how<br />
lives would be saved. He then<br />
immediately left the building<br />
without answering any of the<br />
obvious questions like ‘Why<br />
don’t the figures add up?’ and<br />
‘Why does no other research get<br />
the same results?’<br />
<strong>The</strong>re was a massive riders<br />
demo about the proposal in<br />
Brussels and at roughly the same<br />
time, French bikers attacked<br />
DEKRA’s headquarters with<br />
eggs and flour and then in an<br />
early morning assault chained<br />
the entrance closed with bike<br />
locks. <strong>The</strong>re’s always something<br />
to be said for a bit of direct action.<br />
Round two went to spirited<br />
reaction.<br />
<strong>The</strong>n, in an incredible fit of<br />
rationality, here in Britain on 17 th<br />
Oct, the House of Commons<br />
European Scrutiny Committee<br />
released its opinion of the Super<br />
MoT and in short, wasn’t terribly<br />
complimentary. It seems our<br />
domestic representatives are<br />
prepared to point to the elephant<br />
in the room and state that<br />
because there’s no real evidence<br />
the Commission has made some<br />
massive assumptions about lives<br />
that could be saved etc.<br />
<strong>The</strong> paper reckoned that<br />
having to include all caravans<br />
and trailers would cost the UK<br />
£237m, that 58,000 testers would<br />
need new qualifications, safety<br />
benefits would be negligible<br />
and every road user would face<br />
higher costs.<br />
On 29 th October our new<br />
man at the Ministry, Stephen<br />
Hammond, went to his first<br />
meeting of all the EU Transport<br />
Ministers (known as the<br />
Transport Council) and explained<br />
that the UK wouldn’t support the<br />
ideas of the Super MoT because<br />
the evidence was weak; contrary<br />
to what the Commission (and<br />
DEKRA) said, there was no<br />
correlation between component<br />
failure and road safety; and the<br />
whole thing was going to waste<br />
over a billion Euros. Way to<br />
go Steve!<br />
He was joined by Sweden,<br />
France, Netherlands, Belgium,<br />
Finland, Norway and others and<br />
on 31 st October the Transport<br />
Council released their own<br />
version of the Super MoT<br />
proposal with some pretty<br />
radical suggestions.<br />
Wow, Round three went to<br />
an outbreak of common sense.<br />
Back in the UK, MAG<br />
members continued writing<br />
to the MEP members of the EU<br />
Parliament Committee (for this<br />
subject) who are British, and<br />
the bulk of the responses were<br />
suitably laughable.<br />
<strong>The</strong>re was the palpably<br />
disdainful “I’m not going to<br />
bother to read your letter, but<br />
here’s a response I wrote many<br />
months ago that includes the<br />
word motorcycle, even though<br />
it’s about a completely different<br />
subject,” type response, which<br />
came from both full committee<br />
members and substitute<br />
members. <strong>The</strong>n there was the<br />
“well the Commission only ever<br />
have your best interests at heart<br />
so don’t complain” response. And<br />
finally “the Commission have said<br />
it’s good for the environment and<br />
for road safety so I’ll do what they<br />
tell me to do.”<br />
It is very sad, but it does<br />
seem to sum up what our elected<br />
European Representatives think<br />
of constituents who actually<br />
want to get involved in the<br />
democratic process.<br />
<strong>The</strong> good news, almost to<br />
spite them and their complicity,<br />
is that it looks like this proposed<br />
regulation will be downgraded<br />
to a directive, meaning countries<br />
can pick and choose which bits<br />
they want. Mopeds look likely to<br />
be exempted, as do small trailers<br />
under 750kgs, and most bizarrely,<br />
vehicles used exclusively on<br />
small islands. I must find out<br />
how small…<br />
Paddy Tyson<br />
MAG Campaigns Manager<br />
www.mag-uk.org<br />
01926 844064<br />
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<strong>The</strong> Boy Biker<br />
Winter Warmers<br />
Its not even biking winter<br />
proper yet, that’s December<br />
and January in my eyes, but<br />
the biting wind has reminded<br />
me of all the little tricks I have<br />
been shown to stay toasty on<br />
two wheels.<br />
Whether you’re riding to<br />
work all year round, give up for<br />
six months or only ride half a<br />
dozen times a year regardless,<br />
keeping confortable in the<br />
cold can turn long slogs into<br />
bracing, exhilarating rides.<br />
Get warm first. Don’t jump<br />
into gear if you’re already cold,<br />
like after spanning outdoors.<br />
Making time for a cuppa’ gives<br />
you a core warmth that stays<br />
with you for a few precious<br />
miles. Put your gloves and<br />
neck ware over a radiator while<br />
the kettle boils…<br />
Tuck your layers in. I go;<br />
vest into long johns, tricky b’s<br />
over long johns, t-shirt into<br />
trickies etc…. Of course tight<br />
cuffs and ankles help loads.<br />
I wear the same short cuff<br />
gloves all year, just tuck deeper<br />
in winter.<br />
Wind proof your feet.<br />
Obviously proper boots are<br />
best, but they are clumpy,<br />
unstylish, uncomfortable,<br />
and carrying spare shoes<br />
is a mild inconvenience.<br />
Two pairs of socks stop the<br />
air travel inside your shoe,<br />
seriously lessening that<br />
harrowing front to back chill.<br />
Bags between layers of socks<br />
are also great waterproofing<br />
in trainers. Classic pizza boy<br />
plastic bags on the outside<br />
help stop draughts through<br />
lace and tongue holes, but<br />
a layer or two of cling film is<br />
much more effective, plus is a<br />
great way to try and limit how<br />
often you put your feet down.<br />
Once too many and all the<br />
warmth disappears in a flutter<br />
of plastic.<br />
Hood up. Toggles pulled<br />
tight, pull a snood (look it up<br />
if you are a caveman) (I needed<br />
to – Ed) over a hood around<br />
your neck and shoulders. Even<br />
a loose neck jacket can be<br />
made much warmer teamed<br />
with scarfs and hoods. It’s<br />
dangerous as it makes your<br />
lid loose, but a hood inside the<br />
helmet is lovely too.<br />
If you forget your vest or<br />
long johns (or indeed still get<br />
cold bones with them), a few<br />
layers of newspaper between<br />
your existing layers will do<br />
wonders keeping heat in and<br />
wind out.<br />
A generous wrapping<br />
of duct tape on your levers<br />
stops the contact causing<br />
even colder fingertips,<br />
much cheaper than rubbers<br />
(and easier to get off!). This<br />
particularly useful if you ride in<br />
a more relaxed hand-off style.<br />
Thumb and palm gripping bar,<br />
fingers resting on lever. I adopt<br />
this in winter as grasping<br />
tightly around unheated bars<br />
can lead to painful joints and<br />
seizing up, with the fingers on<br />
top, it’s much easier to have a<br />
warming little wiggle.<br />
Stopping in a sheltered<br />
spot and huddling with your<br />
jacket open over the engine<br />
can reheat you, and a little rub<br />
of the cylinder head is lovely<br />
at a long red light. I have heard<br />
things about fly zippers and<br />
exhausts but I cant say I have<br />
ever got that cold down below.<br />
My little tips may be old news<br />
to you, or maybe your gear is<br />
too high tech for you to ever<br />
feel a chill, but there always<br />
comes a time when the cold<br />
has set in, your riding is getting<br />
worse and the thought of<br />
how far you’ve got left is<br />
horrific.<br />
When it comes; stop, have<br />
a think, a drink, look around.<br />
Apply the barmy ingenuity<br />
and off the wall intelligence<br />
that brings you to this mag to<br />
your situation. How are YOU<br />
going to deal with the cold?<br />
How are YOU going to triumph<br />
over nature this time?<br />
Insulation, wind proofing<br />
(think For Sale boards), second<br />
hand warmth (too close up the<br />
arse of a bus), or petrol station<br />
gloves under and over yours.<br />
Any little cheat that holds a<br />
few degrees will keep you<br />
upright for longer.<br />
And if you really are cold<br />
and worried; take some more<br />
chances, push forwards,<br />
make gaps. For after all,<br />
there is no warmth like that<br />
gained from successfully,<br />
safely, stylishly and<br />
smoothly negotiating traffic.<br />
Until next time, keep wiggling.<br />
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CLICK TO WEBSITE<br />
just search for your model<br />
of bike you will be surprised<br />
how many parts we have<br />
www.wemoto.com<br />
Nuts & Bolts<br />
I<br />
spotted something under<br />
a green sheet in the<br />
workshop last week, it<br />
looked vaguely bike shaped,<br />
but could so easily have been<br />
some cardboard boxes full of<br />
useful things. I have lots of<br />
those. Throwing things away<br />
is not something I am prone<br />
to. Hence the new shed in the<br />
yard, for storing some of the<br />
larger ‘useful things’. People<br />
tell me to sell them on eBay,<br />
but I’d only end up buying<br />
them back in a few years time,<br />
for more money. Yes, I have<br />
done that. Back to the greensheeted<br />
bike shaped object.<br />
It turned out to be a first<br />
generation Suzuki SV650 that<br />
went undercover over two and<br />
a half years ago, I’d not really<br />
forgotten it was there, it had<br />
just blended in and become<br />
overlooked. Which brings<br />
me to the subject myth for<br />
destruction this month.<br />
Laying up a motorcycle.<br />
Quite why any right-minded<br />
person would want to do this,<br />
I’ve no idea. Just ride the damn<br />
thing or sell it on eBay. Don’t<br />
collect the bloody things like<br />
flattened cardboard boxes<br />
and old knackered pistons.<br />
OK, well if you must, here is<br />
my laying up procedure. Ride<br />
the bike into the garage or park<br />
it up somewhere warm and<br />
dry (your front room is ideal).<br />
Throw a cover over it and<br />
walk away.<br />
In the past I’ve spent<br />
a full day messing about<br />
with draining fuel, carefully<br />
overfilling with oil,<br />
disconnecting the battery,<br />
covering parts in oil, lifting the<br />
wheels off the ground etc.<br />
What a waste of time.<br />
I charged up the SV battery,<br />
which had been dead for 2.5<br />
years, flipped the ignition<br />
on and stabbed the starter.<br />
She turned over for about 10<br />
seconds then fired up. I guess<br />
the delay was down to the old<br />
fuel that would never work<br />
and would definitely gum up<br />
the carbs. Within a few seconds<br />
she was off choke and ticking<br />
over like stationary steam<br />
engine on a summers day at<br />
a country fair (probably when<br />
you were about 8 years old,<br />
wearing bright blue cords,<br />
a stripey top and carrying a<br />
toffee apple). Perfect.<br />
Of course, there have been<br />
a few problems, the front brake<br />
callipers were a bit sticky; but<br />
then again, it is a Suzuki, they<br />
seize for a pastime even when<br />
you’re using the bike every day.<br />
One of the throttle spindles<br />
was tight in the carburettor<br />
body, I took the carbs off, freed<br />
it off on the bench and popped<br />
them back on. One fork seal<br />
was leaking but I’m pretty<br />
sure it was when I put it away,<br />
I’ll probably junk the forks<br />
anyway and fit something<br />
that resembles a suspension<br />
system instead.<br />
Basically, pump the tyres<br />
up and she’s good to go. What<br />
I’m trying to say here is that no<br />
matter how much time and<br />
effort you put in to laying up<br />
your bike, it will either be ok to<br />
ride when you are ready, or it<br />
won’t. Either way, you’re going<br />
to have to check everything<br />
before you do and the chances<br />
are that something will have<br />
gone wrong. <strong>The</strong>re is no way<br />
on earth that anyone could<br />
have prevented my throttle<br />
spindle from seizing in the carb<br />
body unless they had stripped<br />
the carbs off and taken them<br />
apart as part of the laying up<br />
process. Which would be a<br />
seriously odd thing to do.<br />
<strong>The</strong> most important thing<br />
you can do is to keep the bike<br />
somewhere dry. Beg, borrow or<br />
steal some space in someone’s<br />
garage or shed. Or polish it<br />
until it’s physically painful to<br />
even look at, then pop it in the<br />
front room by the patio doors<br />
(keep the curtains shut in case<br />
anyone sees it, of course).<br />
Meanwhile in an almost<br />
perfect example of a<br />
motorcycle project, my mate<br />
has just acquired a bike that<br />
I rescued as a project back in<br />
2006. Since my ownership,<br />
during which time it gained<br />
a full set of nigh on perfect<br />
fairings, but very little else, it’s<br />
been sat in a garage, moved to<br />
Devon to be robbed for spares,<br />
left in a garden, uncovered<br />
with the inlets exposed (pure<br />
cruelty) and now, perhaps not<br />
finally, rescued by my mate.<br />
<strong>The</strong> bike? A rare jewel of a<br />
bike, Honda’s Babyblade, the<br />
NC29 CBR400RR. Just charge<br />
the battery up my friend.<br />
Happy Spannering!<br />
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Two Wheels<br />
To <strong>The</strong> End Of<br />
<strong>The</strong> World<br />
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Majestic<br />
Mountains<br />
We got an early start from the<br />
border town of Ipiales in southern<br />
Colombia. Although it seemed<br />
deserted when we checked in the previous<br />
evening, this morning it’s a hive of activity.<br />
Indeed, it seems more like a community centre<br />
than a hotel. During breakfast, we found<br />
ourselves surrounded by groups of smartly<br />
dressed people who seemed to be engaging<br />
in some sort of competition to see who could<br />
talk the loudest without actually shouting. It all<br />
makes sense when one of the staff explains that<br />
the Colombian elections are coming up at the<br />
end of the month. All these guys are members<br />
of one of the main parties who have come<br />
here to strategise. Once we understand what’s<br />
going on we are even more aware of them as<br />
after breakfast they stand around the lobby<br />
drinking coffee, casting the odd suspicious<br />
glance at anyone they can’t identify as one of<br />
the party faithful.<br />
Meanwhile one of the larger function rooms off<br />
the reception is full of teenage boys playing all<br />
kinds of musical instruments. <strong>The</strong>y notice the<br />
big bikes as we pack them and quickly gather<br />
around seemingly mesmerised by the process<br />
of tying a luggage roll onto a set of panniers.<br />
By the time we were leaving we had gathered<br />
a rather large crowd of admirers, but I do think<br />
that this may have had more to do with the lady<br />
motorcyclist than anything else.<br />
A quick ten-minute spin from the hotel and our<br />
first stop is with immigration on the Colombian<br />
side of the Ecuadorian border.<br />
Maeve leaves me outside to stand guard over<br />
the bikes while she tackles the administration<br />
side of things. Getting an exit stamp from the<br />
immigration office was fairly straightforward,<br />
there was only a short queue, where Maeve met<br />
Magdalena, a lady from Oslo, who is working<br />
for a Norwegian aid organisation which helps<br />
displaced people. We get a real sense of what<br />
goes on under the surface in this part of the<br />
world when we talk to people like Magdalena.<br />
On the Ecuadorian side Maeve waits her turn<br />
in a short queue and when called forward did<br />
her best to answer questions from the officer<br />
behind the desk. However, there was one<br />
she just couldn’t figure out. Another officer<br />
appeared and asked, in English, “Are you single<br />
or married?” “I’m single,” she replied even<br />
though she hadn’t seen that question on the<br />
form. She looked up to see these two wannabe<br />
cops leering at her. With the passports in hand,<br />
she asked where the Adunas was and promptly<br />
left the office.<br />
Once again, this was a simple process and as<br />
it was a woman handling the paperwork she<br />
didn’t get leered at. It’s pretty much the same<br />
process at every border; you get used to the<br />
questions and know what information the<br />
officer is looking for. <strong>The</strong> only thing that slows<br />
the process down is the level of sophistication<br />
of the systems used by each country, and<br />
whether it is computerised or not. <strong>The</strong> woman<br />
at the Adunas took time to warn us not to stay<br />
over our allotted sixty days in Ecuador, or we<br />
would receive a hefty fine. She then handed<br />
over our paperwork and we entered country<br />
number eleven. <strong>The</strong> total time for exiting<br />
Colombia and entering Ecuador was about<br />
ninety minutes.<br />
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After crossing the border we rode the twisting<br />
mountain highway to the town of Ibarra<br />
for lunch. <strong>The</strong> streets are cobbled and the<br />
architecture is colonial. I’ve never felt as far away<br />
from home as I do today, and I’ve never felt as<br />
comfortable as I do either.<br />
In 2000, the authorities in Quito, in an attempt<br />
to control their economy, adopted the American<br />
Dollar as their national currency. So while we<br />
had to pay for lunch with Gringo money, we’re<br />
amused when we get our change in Ecuadorian<br />
dollars. I can’t help wondering how much the US<br />
government reckons they are worth.<br />
While the roads are good here, some of the<br />
driving is suspect. One of the features of South<br />
and Central American driving is what a friend<br />
of mine in Dublin calls “Banzai” overtaking. One<br />
particular young man driving a Honda Prelude<br />
stands out for special comment.<br />
First he passes Maeve and then he passes me.<br />
He then comes to a blind right hand bend behind<br />
a bus. Not wanting to drop his pace he simply<br />
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throws in an overtake. Halfway through the bend<br />
the oncoming truck is forced to drive onto the<br />
hard shoulder to avoid a collision. Undeterred,<br />
our hero simply performs the same manoeuvre<br />
on the next bend. We’re on a particularly twisty<br />
section of road so this just keeps happening.<br />
We adopt a strategy of dropping off our speed<br />
so we don’t get hit by any of the debris when<br />
this idiot eventually crashes, as he surely will.<br />
His driving skills are so bad, however, that we<br />
simply catch up with him every few kilometres.<br />
Eventually, much to our relief he turns off the<br />
main road and we continue on the road to Quito<br />
without indecent.<br />
We ride on through the mountains. <strong>The</strong> roads<br />
here are much easier to ride than in southern<br />
Colombia, being devoid of the military<br />
checkpoints and their long tailbacks and I find<br />
myself settling into a rhythm on the bike. I’ve<br />
found myself getting to a place on the bike<br />
recently where we have planned our route<br />
modestly and there is little or no stress when<br />
it comes to making progress. We have never<br />
been to where we’re going and can’t presume<br />
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that we know what we’ll find when and if we<br />
get there. Rather than freaking me out, this is<br />
a situation that I’ve accepted with ease and<br />
indeed welcomed. On my good days I get this<br />
refined down to riding from one corner to the<br />
next, the music on my MP3 player providing the<br />
sound track to our adventure. When I check my<br />
mirrors and Maeve is there all is good, when I<br />
look in front the road is clear and that’s really<br />
all that I need in the moment.<br />
We continue on along an anonymous stretch<br />
of highway and I almost miss the equator<br />
monument. I check my mirrors and Maeve is<br />
signaling for me to pull in. We retrace the last<br />
one hundred metres or so where we find a dusty<br />
car park. On the far side there is a concreted area<br />
with a large orange beacon in the centre. On the<br />
beacon is painted the words “Equator Latitude”.<br />
What I haven’t noticed is that the concrete area<br />
is actually a sundial and I’d rather glibly rode my<br />
filthy dirty motorcycle into the centre of it. <strong>The</strong><br />
caretaker isn’t too happy with me riding onto a<br />
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national monument, but then he suggests that I<br />
take a few pictures before I have to move my bike.<br />
Maeve, of course, noticed where I was going and<br />
declined to join me. She’s now standing by the<br />
edge of the monument beside her bike giving<br />
me ‘the look’. I feel like I’ve just ridden over the<br />
Queens foot or taken a leak on the tomb of the<br />
unknown soldier.<br />
Several minutes later when she’s finished<br />
explaining how much of a cultural moron I am<br />
she starts to see the funny side of it and we<br />
get rid of my embarrassment by spending the<br />
next ten minutes or so jumping over the<br />
line from one hemisphere to the other like<br />
schoolchildren. We get in some photos of the<br />
momentous event and head on.<br />
We finish the day’s riding in Quito. While it is<br />
quite a large city with lots of heavy traffic and<br />
thick smog, the old town in the centre has been<br />
bypassed. Here, amid the beautiful colonial<br />
buildings, we find our lodging for the evening.<br />
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<strong>The</strong> city is built at 2,850 metres above sea level<br />
and in 1978 was declared a UNESCO World<br />
Heritage Site. Rather beautifully, the statue of<br />
an angel, the Virgen Del Panecillo, overlooks the<br />
whole city and all her citizens.<br />
<strong>The</strong> following day we walk around and do a little<br />
shopping. In one of the stores we find genuine<br />
Panama hats amongst other local treasures.<br />
Apparently even though we know them as<br />
such, Panama hats don’t exist in Panama, they<br />
are made here in Quito and are known locally<br />
by a completely different name.<br />
Because of the altitude we find ourselves in a<br />
shop fifty kilometres from the Equator buying<br />
ourselves woolly hats and scarves to fend off<br />
night chills that are as bad as any January<br />
evening in Dublin. While we are out shopping<br />
we meet a local police captain. His dress uniform<br />
is pressed to a level of sharpness that looks like<br />
it could cause paper cuts. His epaulets have the<br />
most ornate gold embroidery. His gun belt and<br />
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the peak of his hat are polished to perfection.<br />
It has to be said, he looks pretty intimidating.<br />
He notices that we aren’t locals and engages<br />
us in conversation. When he learns that we are<br />
visiting the city he produces his business card,<br />
writes his personal mobile phone number on<br />
the back and tells us to call him if we have any<br />
problems while we’re in his country.<br />
While we are in the city we find a FedEx office and<br />
cull all the souvenirs and gifts from our luggage<br />
and post them home. It feels really good to have<br />
decluttered our panniers, sometimes it felt like<br />
our luggage was getting way out of control!<br />
After two days in Quito we leave and continue<br />
south. While most of the Pan-American in<br />
southern Ecuador is dual carriageway, along<br />
this mountainous stretch a lot of the road has<br />
been reduced to one because of landslides and<br />
rock falls. As we ride along we can see that the<br />
other side of the road is littered with boulders of<br />
mixed sizes but is still open to traffic. I can’t help<br />
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wondering what I would do if a landslide came<br />
down the hill towards us. We have dropped to<br />
1800 metres by the time we reach the small and<br />
beautiful town of Baños.<br />
It lies in the shadow of a volcano called<br />
Tungurahua. Several years ago the authorities<br />
declared the volcano to be active and about to<br />
blow its top at any moment, and duly evacuated<br />
the town. For months nothing happened and<br />
the local people started travelling around the<br />
back of the volcano and over the mountain<br />
passes back into the town; by doing so<br />
they bypassed the roadblocks set up by the<br />
authorities and took back the town and their<br />
homes. <strong>The</strong> following morning the police<br />
and troops who were supposed to keep the<br />
residents from returning woke up to find that<br />
the town was pretty much repopulated. Several<br />
months later the volcano did indeed erupt, but<br />
it was a much smaller event than anticipated.<br />
<strong>The</strong> lava flow missed the town by several miles<br />
but did pour over the main road into the town,<br />
which remained closed off for several months.<br />
<strong>The</strong> local solution to the problem was to drive<br />
over the now cooled lava flow until they had<br />
worn a dirt track into it.<br />
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When we turn off the main road to ride the last<br />
thirty or so kilometres into the town, we ride<br />
along the side of the most beautiful valley,<br />
across a long bridge with a huge drop beneath,<br />
and finally cross the remains of the now dusty<br />
lava flow.<br />
Our accommodation for the night is in Jim<br />
Redd’s Hostal Posada del Arte. Jim is an American<br />
from Chicago who loves art and cycling as well<br />
as hating American politicians and indeed the<br />
American political system. For extra special<br />
high blood pressure moments he gets going<br />
about ‘W’. He hates George Bush as much as he<br />
likes looking after his guests. We take a walk<br />
into this sleepy little town in the eastern Andes<br />
somewhere in rural Ecuador, and along with the<br />
beautiful church, mineral baths and countless<br />
outdoor adventure type places, we find an Irish<br />
pub called the Leprechaun bar. Just in case we<br />
are associated with it in any way we spend the<br />
rest of the day pretending to be Australian.<br />
Or Canadian.<br />
<strong>The</strong> following morning we left Baños just before<br />
ten. With a last look at the waterfall, Baños de<br />
Agua Santa, we set off back over the remains of<br />
the lava fields from Tungurahua and left the lush<br />
mountains and jungle behind us.<br />
While in Baños we had learned that our<br />
proposed route to Riobamba was closed due<br />
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to the volcano so we retraced our steps back<br />
for thirty odd kilometres and rejoined the Pan<br />
Americana. We continued south and the road<br />
started its ascent again into the Andes. Up<br />
and up we rode and just when we thought<br />
it couldn’t be possible to go any higher,<br />
we would crest a rise and the road would<br />
disappear over yet another, higher crest. We<br />
carried on climbing, the temperature dropping<br />
as we went. Twist, turn and climb, twist, turn<br />
and climb, a seemingly never-ending sequence<br />
of roads from some sort of motorcycle heaven.<br />
I slow my pace off to almost nothing and drop<br />
to a low gear before taking a look around. <strong>The</strong>re<br />
is little or no traffic up here and we have the<br />
mountainside to ourselves with the exception<br />
of a few sheep and their herder, who is sitting on<br />
the roadside. <strong>The</strong>re are mountains all around;<br />
behind us they drop into the valley we have<br />
just risen from, on the far side of which they<br />
seem even taller than the range we are now on.<br />
We are higher than I have ever been on a<br />
motorcycle, over 3,000 metres above sea level.<br />
While I’m quietly impressed with the electronic<br />
fuel injection system on the bikes, neither of<br />
them have missed a beat at this altitude, I’m even<br />
more impressed with our surroundings. It is one<br />
of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.<br />
We’re sitting on the side of the road looking<br />
down on the clouds that seem to lap against the<br />
side of the hills as the ocean would against the<br />
shore. We sit there in silence for quite some time,<br />
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there is no need to talk, no need to recognise<br />
where we are. We just sit and let everything be.<br />
We continue to follow the snaking path around<br />
the sides and along the top of the Andes. It’s the<br />
guts of four hundred kilometres from Baños to<br />
Cuenca, our destination for the evening, and<br />
we’re both baffled as to why everyone we asked<br />
said the journey would take six to eight hours.<br />
However, the reason soon became apparent<br />
when the road in the sky suddenly ceased to<br />
be decent tarmac and turned to a gravel and<br />
stone track.<br />
From a high viewpoint we can see the<br />
construction trucks in various locations littered<br />
along the road as it winds its way for kilometre<br />
after kilometre in front of us. We ride slowly<br />
along the hazardous route admiring the<br />
patchwork of beige and russet brown fields<br />
that fill the mountain slopes. We stop to take<br />
pictures. <strong>The</strong> journey was amazing and before<br />
either of us knew it, signs were indicating it was<br />
less than sixty kilometres to Cuenca.<br />
Sad to be leaving the lofty heights of the<br />
mountain roads, but glad to be arriving in a<br />
new city, we made our way to the old centre<br />
and to the street where we had booked our<br />
accommodation. This was fairly easy, the<br />
problems started when we couldn’t get into<br />
the hostel. <strong>The</strong> doors were firmly bolted and a<br />
sign said “fully booked”. Persistent pounding and<br />
ringing of doorbells failed to bring any response.<br />
We’ve been using a website called hostalworld.<br />
com for the last number of weeks and this is the<br />
first time we’ve booked somewhere and found<br />
it shut. Frustrated we start to look elsewhere.<br />
We try a few other hotels and hostels we’d seen<br />
recommended, but each one was full. I started to<br />
get a little worried, it was the weekend after all,<br />
but surely the whole town couldn’t be booked<br />
out? We rode a little further and saw some flags<br />
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and a sign for a hotel on one of the many narrow<br />
streets in the old part of the city. We pulled up<br />
and walked in. No problem, a room for the night<br />
or even two if we wanted it. <strong>The</strong> room even<br />
came with secure off street parking for both of<br />
the bikes.<br />
With the necessities for the evening unloaded<br />
from the luggage, we ask the clerk on reception<br />
for directions to the car-park. He draws a map<br />
and I suppose we should have noticed some<br />
of the warning signals immediately. He had<br />
difficulty naming the streets and could only tell<br />
us the number of blocks we would have to go.<br />
Even then he seemed unsure.<br />
Maeve persisted until he used a street map<br />
from the tourist information stand and gave us<br />
more precise instructions. Off we went. We got<br />
to the location marked on the map and there<br />
wasn’t any car park. Trying not to get annoyed,<br />
I stopped the bike and started to look around.<br />
<strong>The</strong>re was always the possibility that he had<br />
mistakenly marked the wrong side of the<br />
street. We were sure that we had followed his<br />
instructions to the letter. While we a sitting there<br />
wondering what to do next, we can’t leave the<br />
bikes on the street overnight and neither of us<br />
fancies looking for another hotel, a car pulls up<br />
beside us and two local men ask if they can help<br />
us find what we are looking for.<br />
I asked if they knew the location of the parking<br />
building for the Hotel San Andres. Immediately<br />
the passenger in the car, pointed at his friend,<br />
the driver, and explained that he was the owner<br />
of said establishment.<br />
Having failed to explain clearly that we were<br />
looking for their parking lot and not the hotel,<br />
they men kindly took us back to where we had<br />
just come from. We’ve been in the town for<br />
almost three hours and we’ve yet to get out of<br />
our bike gear. I’m starting to get very tetchy and<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
I can see that Maeve is running out of patience.<br />
I try to explain a little more accurately about<br />
our parking problem and the owner informs me<br />
that we should park the bikes in the lobby of his<br />
hotel and sets off to find the keys to open the<br />
second leaf of the glass double doors, which<br />
will allow us to ride our bikes into the reception<br />
area with ease.<br />
We parked on the side of the busy street with<br />
hazard lights flashing while keys were located.<br />
Unfortunately, there seemed to be some kind<br />
of problem with the bottom deadbolt on one of<br />
the doors and while we waited, the men working<br />
on getting this open, we could hear another GS<br />
coming up behind us. When we looked around<br />
a rider on a red GS and another on a Kawasaki<br />
KLR650 had pulled up behind us.<br />
Neither of the guys spoke English, but we<br />
introduced ourselves in our bad Spanish and<br />
explained about our parking situation and our<br />
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adventures so far. As there was nothing much<br />
anyone could do until the door was opened,<br />
Pablo, the GS rider suggested that we go for<br />
some food and a drink and return in an hour.<br />
So, from having a problem of not being able to<br />
find a hotel garage, we managed to somehow<br />
stumble upon the owner of the hotel we were<br />
staying at, blag our way to parking the bikes in<br />
the hotel lobby and find fellow motorcyclists<br />
who were willing to guide us around their<br />
amazing city.<br />
Cuenca is the third largest city in Ecuador<br />
and is filled with cobbled streets and an over<br />
supply of colonial churches each one trying to<br />
outdo the other for sheer volume of internal<br />
decoration. <strong>The</strong> Rio Tomebamba runs through<br />
the city and past the ruins of an ancient Inca<br />
temple. Most of the stonework from the<br />
dilapidated temple was taken and reused<br />
by the Spanish to build their new colonial<br />
stronghold. Moving around the old part of<br />
the city, there are endless beautiful buildings<br />
with carved timber doors and ornate wrought<br />
iron balconies with shuttered windows,<br />
each one presenting itself to the street as a<br />
mystery waiting to be solved.<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
After some food, we all return to the hotel.<br />
<strong>The</strong> door problem has been sorted so the next<br />
thing was to get the bikes in. Maeve went first.<br />
She made it look simple, disappearing into the<br />
building, leaving me sitting on the opposite side<br />
of the street. Pablo stopped the oncoming traffic<br />
and I went for it. I was riding my GS over the<br />
polished tiled lobby floor, past a fancy reception<br />
desk, heading towards the centre of the hotel!<br />
At the courtyard we rode down another flight<br />
of steps and parked up for the night. I once won<br />
a James Bond themed fancy dress competition<br />
when I rode a Ducati monster into a restaurant<br />
while dressed in a tux, but riding a fully loaded<br />
GS through a rather nice hotel is still a first for<br />
me. Once we get the bikes parked we retire<br />
upstairs and get changed out of our bike gear at<br />
last. Tomorrow we’ll hopefully ride to the border<br />
crossing at Huaquillas and on into Peru!<br />
Paul Browne<br />
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MILWAUKEE MEGALITH<br />
“When HD offered to loan me the most over the top bike they produce,<br />
I took one look at it and decided it was too much motorcycle for little ol’ me.”<br />
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Not that it was too much for me to<br />
manage y’understand; it’s just that I<br />
figured that any machine that comes<br />
with an armchair on the back, demands to<br />
be shared. I put the word out that the pillion<br />
was up for grabs, and a friend of a friend,<br />
affectionately known as TGB (<strong>The</strong>girlybiker)<br />
was first to claim it.<br />
Having stated that the ‘Glide wouldn’t be<br />
too much for me, I have to admit to feeling<br />
genuine trepidation when I first saw it close up<br />
in all its immense glory; and manoeuvring it in<br />
the car park behind Warr’s glossy Kings Road<br />
showroom did nothing to ease my disquiet.<br />
However, by the time I’d negotiated my way<br />
onto the trendy main thoroughfare and across<br />
London via Knightsbridge, Piccadilly Circus<br />
and Trafalgar Square, with everything they<br />
had to offer by way of dense, bad tempered<br />
and aggressive traffic, I was confident I could<br />
manage the big beastie anywhere that had a<br />
reasonable strip of tarmac on offer.<br />
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Wales is my usual first choice when it comes<br />
to a well maintained twisty stretch of asphalt<br />
slicing through beautiful scenery; but as I said<br />
in issue 121, reporting on a glorious August<br />
ride to Machynlleth on my first ever Harley,<br />
“the Softail Custom isn’t really a B road blaster,<br />
there’s just much too much of it for the point,<br />
squirt, brake, scrape, accelerate, style they<br />
tend to encourage”. And if that was true of the<br />
comparatively lithe and narrow Softail, then<br />
the gargantuan Glide was likely to be every<br />
bit as unsuitable for the conditions as the<br />
caravans that clog those same roads in the<br />
summer months.<br />
It was Rod Young’s comments about the “Ultra<br />
Huge Caravanesque Touring Behemoth Glide”<br />
after he attended the 2008 model launch that<br />
persuaded me to accept Harley’s generous<br />
offer. He wrote, “<strong>The</strong>se bikes are just superb at<br />
what they do and I challenge anybody to ride<br />
one and not enjoy the experience. Wind up the<br />
stereo, set the cruise control, stand up on the<br />
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“I slept well and got up in time to stand on the deck and watch the rising<br />
sun splash orange paint across the strip of land between the indigo sea<br />
and the slate grey clouds.”<br />
seat and wave with both hands as you head<br />
down to Morocco for a cup of coffee.”<br />
Now old Mr Young’s a man who loves his<br />
motosycles; but as regular readers will be<br />
aware he thinks nothing of riding from London<br />
to Penzance for a pastie, so his idea of a fun<br />
ride shouldn’t necessarily be taken too literally<br />
by normal sane folk. Besides I don’t like coffee<br />
but I understood where he was coming from<br />
so I was looking forward to accepting his<br />
challenge, albeit at a shorter range and more<br />
soberly seated.<br />
While I had no intentions of riding to Africa, I<br />
decided that given the kind of mile munching<br />
the bike was designed for, a short continental<br />
jaunt was the least I could do. I’d been<br />
promising to take reader John Philip Evans up<br />
on his generous offer of a bed in Bretagne, ever<br />
since the spring of 2006; and I’d been reliably<br />
informed that there were some impressive<br />
standing stones near Carnac, which sounded<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
perfect for the “we’re all megaliths together”<br />
cover I had in mind.<br />
We only had a few days, so I checked out<br />
Brittany Ferries’ routes and timetables and<br />
opted for a couple of night crossings. We’d sail<br />
out on the 22.00hr Plymouth to Roscoff ferry<br />
on the Sunday and return on the 23.30hr from<br />
Caen to Portsmouth the following Wednesday;<br />
and with cabins booked both ways it meant we<br />
could sleep through the crossings and arrive at<br />
our destinations refreshed.<br />
Google maps wanted to send me straight<br />
down the M4 before hanging a left onto the<br />
M5 and although I usually avoid motorways<br />
like the plague on a bike, the Electra Glide was<br />
so unlike anything I’d ever ridden before, I was<br />
planning to follow the rather humdrum advice<br />
of the big map in the sky. However, en route<br />
to picking TBG up in Kingston, I realised that<br />
I’d have to ride right past the M3 on my way<br />
to the M4, which seemed even more ridiculous<br />
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than travelling all that way west before turning<br />
south. Besides we were planning to have<br />
dinner with my friend John in Plymouth, which<br />
left plenty of leeway so I decided to ditch<br />
plan A and follow the more natural south<br />
westerly route.<br />
We refueled at Amesbury and as I rolled west<br />
with Stonehenge on my right and Tom Petty’s<br />
Refugee creating a beautiful wall of sound in<br />
front of me, I congratulated myself on going<br />
with my usual instinct and taking the A road.<br />
OK the Harley might have felt like it was the size<br />
and weight of a car in London traffic, but on the<br />
delightfully rolling A303 it was unmistakably a<br />
motorbike, and a bike that followed the gentle<br />
curves and undulations of the tarmac with a<br />
reassuring rock steadiness.<br />
It made short work of the miles and we soon<br />
found ourselves joining the last stretch of the<br />
M5, where roadworks complete with cameras<br />
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threatened to slow us to a lower speed than<br />
we’d been maintaining on the two lane road<br />
we’d just left. Fortunately the cameras where<br />
of the forward facing average speed variety so<br />
as I was on a roll I decided to opt for a higher<br />
average speed and was delighted to discover<br />
that the Glide’s enormous presence meant that<br />
any of the light traffic that was sitting in the<br />
outside lane doing the prescribed 50, quickly<br />
moved over allowing us to sweep rapidly past.<br />
After dinner it was a short hop to the ferry. As<br />
usual on bikes we were waved to the front, but<br />
as I rolled forward and found myself looking<br />
down 30 or 40ft of steep metal ramp liberally<br />
coated with drizzling rain, I have to admit that<br />
my bottle went and I asked TGB to dismount.<br />
It wasn’t that I thought her petite presence<br />
would affect the likelihood of my dropping<br />
the beast, I just didn’t want to have to worry<br />
about her when – as seemed inevitable at that<br />
moment – I did. Of course once I took a deep<br />
breath and fed the clutch in, the Electra glided<br />
down the ramp and across the wide expanse<br />
of shiny metal floor with ne’er a drama; and<br />
we’d dropped our gear in the cabin and settled<br />
in the bar before the ferry had even finished<br />
loading with cars and trucks.<br />
A couple of drinks later we were ready to turn<br />
in. I’m sure that if TGB had her fella with her,<br />
they’d have been happy to squeeze onto a<br />
single bunk and they wouldn’t have needed to<br />
change in the shower/toilet either but the bunk<br />
beds were perfect for our arrangement and<br />
surprisingly comfortable; and the bathroom<br />
facilities, including the changing space, were<br />
perfectly adequate for the purpose.<br />
I slept well and got up in time to stand on the<br />
deck and watch the rising sun splash orange<br />
paint across the strip of land between the<br />
indigo sea and the slate grey clouds. After<br />
coffee (for TGB), juice and croissants in Roscoff,<br />
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we headed west on beautiful empty roads with<br />
TGB taking care of the navigation, which left<br />
me free to exist in the moment, soaking up the<br />
sights, and taking time out to reflect on the<br />
whole experience.<br />
And what an experience it was. <strong>The</strong>re I was<br />
on a fine day in mid November, I was rolling<br />
effortlessly along scenic well-paved roads that<br />
were lightly populated by bike friendly French<br />
peeps, breathing air that had blown in across<br />
a couple of thousand miles of ocean, I had an<br />
attractive young woman sitting inches behind<br />
me taking care of all the details, and I was riding<br />
over seventeen grand’s worth of kilometre<br />
crunching cruise machine! OK neither the bike<br />
nor the attractive young woman were mine,<br />
but the experience certainly was and I was<br />
revelling in it.<br />
We rode to the lighthouse at Saint-Mathieu,<br />
which appeared on our map to be the most<br />
westerly point in Brittany, then turned east and<br />
had lunch in Brest before heading out on a fast<br />
dual carriageway (N165) towards Carnac. We<br />
managed to find a good enough twin room<br />
and then wandered around until we stumbled<br />
on a cafe that promised to furnish us with<br />
moules marinieres et frites and fine beers – and<br />
gratifyingly they delivered on both counts.<br />
In the morning we rode the short distance to<br />
the standing stones and got the cover shot<br />
before swinging north to meet up with John<br />
in Le Haut Corlay. Following his red beetle as<br />
he drove it rapidly along the back roads on the<br />
way to lunch, there was no mistaking that he<br />
was an ex-police motorcyclist and advanced<br />
motorist and I had to hustle the Harley to keep<br />
up. Coincidentally we’d arrived on the day that<br />
John’s BCFR (Bike Club France) group had their<br />
monthly meeting in a pub about 45 minutes or<br />
so away. As John predicted there weren’t many<br />
bikes there (i.e. just the one – we’d travelled<br />
by car too), but it was interesting to spend an<br />
evening with a bunch of ex-pat bikers who,<br />
refreshingly, normally insist on only speaking<br />
French (they made an exception on this<br />
occasion as a concession to my ignorance!)<br />
and were enormously enthusiastic about the<br />
motorcycle friendly Gallic culture.<br />
<strong>The</strong> next day John treated TGB to a ride on<br />
something a little more lithe when she joined<br />
him on the back of his Deauville for our guided<br />
ride to the spectacular pink granite Côte Rosé.<br />
She rejoined me on the hog after a coffee break<br />
by the quayside in Paimpol and we parted<br />
company with John at Saint-Brieuc, when he<br />
headed home and we struck out to the east<br />
and our late night ferry.<br />
TGB was a bit worried about missing the boat<br />
because she absolutely had to be at work the<br />
following morning, so with the sun sinking<br />
lower in my mirrors we chugged along the<br />
N road at a steady 125km/h. I managed to<br />
reassure her that we did have time for a short<br />
detour to visit Le-Mont-Saint-Michel and grab<br />
some spectacular shots before the sun turned<br />
in for the night.<br />
Back on course we powered on and ended<br />
up in the ferry port all checked in and ready<br />
to go with hours to spare. That was another<br />
new experience for me, because in the past<br />
whenever I’ve been heading back to a channel<br />
port, I’ve always found myself, whether alone<br />
or riding with a group, having to ride faster and<br />
faster, as it began to look increasingly unlikely<br />
that I’d make it, only to race across the dockyard<br />
moments before they wound the ramp up.<br />
<strong>The</strong> four-berth cabin we shared on the<br />
luxurious Mont St Michel was very posh; and<br />
we enjoyed another good kip until the tannoy<br />
system gently stirred us as the big boat made its<br />
way up the long channel into Pompey harbour.<br />
TGB’s boyfriend Andy had missed her so much<br />
that he was there to meet her as we rolled off<br />
the ferry at 7am! Now that’s what I call true love!<br />
<strong>The</strong>y headed off towards London on his TDM,<br />
while I went and found myself some breakfast<br />
and reflected on Rod’s challenge – and damn<br />
him if he wasn’t right!<br />
Dave Gurman<br />
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This article is dedicated to the memory<br />
of the man whose offer of hospitality<br />
prompted the trip. He was a retired police<br />
motorcyclist, an ex marine and a biker<br />
for life. I learned last month that he had<br />
reached the end of the road in February<br />
this year. As I said in an email to his widow<br />
Jac “I’m saddened to hear that John has<br />
gone, he was a big man in so many ways<br />
and there are comments, conversations<br />
and thoughts that we shared, that will<br />
always stay with me.”<br />
R.I.P. John Philip Evans<br />
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<strong>The</strong> Pillion Position<br />
Have you ever had one of those dreams<br />
where you’re walking around and you<br />
have this really uneasy feeling that<br />
everyone’s looking at you; then all of a sudden<br />
you realise you’re naked? As a biker being on<br />
the back of an Electra Glide for 4 days around<br />
Northern France, you sort of develop the same<br />
feeling that everyone is paying just a little too<br />
much attention to you for comfort.<br />
<strong>The</strong>re’s certainly very little chance of a SMIDSY<br />
(Sorry Mate I Didn’t See You) on the Glide -<br />
there’s more chance that people will just lose<br />
concentration as they gawp at the sheer size<br />
of the American leviathan and run into you.<br />
It’s a vehicular monolith; a statement vehicle<br />
which says look at me; it’s the Elvis of the bike<br />
world, (and we’re talking the burger-wolfing<br />
gold-draped Elvis of his later days here); it is<br />
everything that is excessive about America<br />
and to be around it makes you realise why the<br />
world is fascinated by the US. You cannot help<br />
but stare in a mixture of wonder and disbelief<br />
at the brashness of it all.<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
As the Electra Glide pulled up outside my<br />
apartment on a cold and wet late-autumn<br />
morning, I let out an involuntary laugh at the<br />
improbable sight of Dave nestled somewhere<br />
in the middle of something that is 2.5m long,<br />
and causing traffic to back up because it’s<br />
taking up so much of the road when parked<br />
up. And that’s seems to be a lot of people’s<br />
reactions. As a biker in London, you get used<br />
to the disdain of your fellow motorist but the<br />
‘Glide isn’t a motorbike... it’s much, much more<br />
than that. It seems to be an emotional prompt<br />
that makes children point and stare, dogs bark,<br />
bikers slow down to take a look as they pass,<br />
and cars to actually let you out in traffic, just so<br />
they can sit behind and take a gander.<br />
Despite its length, in practice the ‘Glide is<br />
surprisingly snug for a pillion. You don’t sit ON<br />
this bike, you sit IN it, and because of that, and<br />
the fact that the pillion seat has a backrest and<br />
speakers aimed at your kidneys, there’s not a<br />
lot of room to move about - you’re sort of sat<br />
in a chair, and there you sit. That’s all there is<br />
to it. You don’t move with the bike at all. It’s<br />
a strangely disconnected experience for an<br />
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experienced pillion and bears more in common<br />
with being a passenger in a car than on a bike.<br />
Also despite a wheelbase that would make<br />
your average family car jealous, it came as big<br />
surprise just how close together the rider and<br />
pillion are obliged to sit. It’s a little as if the<br />
pillion is almost secondary to the cavernous<br />
top box and panniers, you seem to be shoehorned<br />
somewhat so that the rider is rather<br />
intimately located between the pillion’s legs<br />
and the pillion’s legs are forced outward a la<br />
stirrups! I would imagine that a male pillion<br />
of any larger physical size would have some<br />
serious proximity issues with the ‘Glide.<br />
Of course, what this also means is that as a<br />
pillion, pretty much all you can see forwards is<br />
the back of the rider’s head.<br />
After a restful overnight ferry ride from Plymouth<br />
to Roscoff, we struck off on a tour of Brest and<br />
started to rack up the miles on Milwaukee’s<br />
Monsterbike. <strong>The</strong> roads were fabulous and the<br />
traffic was light, and what is an immovable<br />
object at low-speed was actually surprisingly<br />
smooth and capable, both at good pace on the<br />
A-roads as well as in the twisties. This is not a<br />
bike built for throwing about however; an idea<br />
reinforced as your hear the footplates scrape<br />
when you attempt to take a roundabout at<br />
anything above pedestrian pace. To wring the<br />
neck of this thing would be to miss the point<br />
though. It’s a sightseeing bike. Perhaps the point<br />
that the pillion can’t see forward is a good one<br />
- it forces you to take in the surroundings and<br />
slow down a bit. On a couple of occasions, I’ll<br />
admit though, it slowed and got just a little too<br />
comfy so that I felt the head lolling and l was<br />
soon asleep. I’m reticent to say that this was a<br />
compliment to the Harley’s comfort and smooth<br />
ride, but I have a bit of a feeling that at times it<br />
was just a bit too much of a coach-trip on the<br />
back of the ‘Glide to keep me awake.<br />
We stopped frequently on the trip for Les Cafés,<br />
Le Gasole et Les PeePees. Despite stopping<br />
in a range of places from towns to villages<br />
to beachfronts, the Harley always managed<br />
to make an exhibition of herself and we’d<br />
come back to a gaggle of locals or visitors<br />
surrounding her and scratching their heads<br />
or taking photos. I lost count of the number<br />
of times my pidgin French and lack of ability<br />
to ‘talk bike’ let me down in the early stages<br />
of some enthusiastic questioning. I took it<br />
upon myself to become trip photographer<br />
and map-reader as a way of looking busy and<br />
keeping interested. Indeed it’s probably worth<br />
saying that many of the shots I took were taken<br />
from the back of the bike and most involved<br />
me standing up/leaning out and generally<br />
clambering over the back of the bike, which<br />
seemed to do little to disrupt the ride and<br />
indeed from where I was sitting/perching it felt<br />
stable at all times.<br />
Experiencing the ‘Glide as a tourer is somewhat<br />
of a 5-star experience. Harley have added some<br />
superb touches to the bike to make life more<br />
comfortable. My personal favourite were the<br />
inner bags for the panniers; perfectly shaped<br />
so that they fitted snugly, they meant that there<br />
was no offloading of contents from bags into<br />
the topbox, or forcing of undies into crevices<br />
at the bottom of the panniers. It was simply a<br />
matter of opening the case, taking out the bag<br />
and walking into the hotel. Brilliant.<br />
<strong>The</strong> stereo was neat too. It gets louder as you<br />
accelerate, and is impressively loud enough to<br />
turn heads in towns when the standard cans<br />
don’t do their job of alerting the locals. On a<br />
bike that was built to be seen, the choice of<br />
our esteemed editor to play a collection of 80s<br />
camp anthems was the ideal soundtrack to the<br />
arrival of an equally camp looking machine.<br />
And there I think I’ve hit on the point of the<br />
Electra Glide. It’s a bike to be seen on, and a<br />
bike to see things on. You’re forced from townmode<br />
into touring mode in an instant and my<br />
paranoia about everyone staring was probably<br />
because it was such a fast transition for me.<br />
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From invisibility on my Bandit to sticking<br />
out like a sore-thumb and being the centre<br />
of attention was an odd feeling, but not a<br />
bad experience. Perhaps if I’d grown into<br />
the Harley and not had such a short-sharp<br />
shock we would have developed a happier<br />
relationship.<br />
<strong>The</strong> best thing about the ‘Glide and all those<br />
people staring though... there’s absolutely no<br />
way your bum can look big on it!<br />
<strong>The</strong>girlybiker x<br />
A casual leg-over in the cold<br />
(Yet another opinion)<br />
I<br />
first came across this flagship when the<br />
editor was showing it off to a group of<br />
ladies of a certain age. He was letting them<br />
take turns sitting on it (ooh-err missus).<br />
<strong>The</strong>n several days later he gave me a call, “Do<br />
you want a go on the bike and oh, take it back<br />
to Warrs the Harley dealer… coz it’s cold?”<br />
Indeed Mr Frost had visited and it had turned<br />
a tad nippy. It occurred to me that the editor<br />
had become the perfect candidate to be a<br />
Harley owner.<br />
Anyway, never wanting to turn a good lig down,<br />
I readily jumped at the offer.<br />
Setting out across sarf Lunon through the<br />
evening rush hour was frustrating work.<br />
I made the mistake of taking my usual<br />
route that involves small roads, lots of ‘em,<br />
and five thousand speed bumps, which was<br />
not the ideal environment for this<br />
particular vehicle.<br />
Having reached home I sat down with a glass<br />
of something reviving and thought about the<br />
Harley. In my world, probably unfairly, most HDs<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
and certainly the cruiser variety are regarded<br />
as a source of fun and at times derision. I say<br />
that with a small degree of shame (only a small<br />
degree mind you). This machine however is 96<br />
cubic inches. That’s 1600cc in new money and<br />
it costs a smidge over £1000 per 100cc. This is a<br />
bike that’s built and priced to be taken seriously.<br />
So if I was going to do it any justice I would have<br />
to take on roads that were more appropriate<br />
than inner city speed-hump raceways.<br />
<strong>The</strong> next morning was as crisp and frosty as the<br />
one before. It was time to put the liners back<br />
in the jacket and trousers, don thicker socks<br />
and gloves and head towards the countryside<br />
before the bike needed to be back at the<br />
dealers. I had a couple of hours. First port of call<br />
was down the A2 to Dartford. I was giving the<br />
Boy Biker a ride to college, it was a little treat<br />
for him to be able to sit back in an armchair<br />
and listen to the stereo. From there I headed<br />
down some diddlee roads ending up the other<br />
side of Sevenoaks. I still had plenty of time<br />
to find some bigger roads to go a bit quicker<br />
before getting the bike back to Warrs in<br />
Mottingham, in deepest southern suburbia.<br />
Only thing was the bike was supposed to go<br />
back to their other shop in Kings Road, Chelsea.<br />
Doh! So a mad(ish) dash ensued to get the<br />
bike across town.<br />
So what do I think now? Is it just an expensive<br />
joke?<br />
It is extremely comfortable. It is pretty damn<br />
smooth. It can get a shift on. It does have a<br />
good stereo.<br />
Despite being keen and able to accelerate up<br />
to and beyond 100 the bike felt a little unsteady<br />
at a constant high speed. Front end a little light?<br />
If anything could be light on this Harley! Also my<br />
head was buffeted around, which caused me to<br />
hide behind the screen.<br />
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It seemed to be in its element around<br />
70mph, which equates to 3000rpm in top.<br />
Reminded me of the power of a diesel, a bloody<br />
good diesel mind. I was surprised how quickly<br />
it could be hustled through town till the traffic<br />
became too tight to find a path through.<br />
All in all it’s a lot of bike that costs an awful<br />
lot of money but if you are not in a hurry and<br />
have a big garage, oh and loads of spare cash<br />
sloshing around in an off-shore account, this<br />
could be the bike and image for you.<br />
Dave Newman<br />
www.harley-davidson.com<br />
0871 641 2508<br />
www.brittany-ferries.com<br />
0871 244 0744<br />
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Motorcycle Live<br />
2012 Bike Show<br />
at the NEC<br />
Blez returns to the NEC for the umpteenth time...<br />
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I’ve been going to motorcycle shows at the<br />
NEC since the very first one, back in the spring<br />
of 1981. (Spring seems a much more sensible<br />
time of year to me, but the manufacturers all<br />
prefer to have them in the autumn; that means<br />
the UK one is always in winter, because Cologne<br />
or Milan always come first, both chronologically<br />
and metaphorically!)<br />
In the good old days, the press and trade day<br />
was always on a Thursday, followed by a highpriced<br />
Friday to keep the riff-raff out but that<br />
tradition was dropped a couple of years ago<br />
in order to shorten the show while keeping<br />
both weekends, so now we journos have to rub<br />
shoulders with any paying punters who fancy<br />
attending ‘Media Monday’.<br />
I was mighty glad to have my heated jacket<br />
for the 110 mile thrash up the motorway and<br />
the bike park was still only half full at midday.<br />
I have to say that the indoor bike park at the<br />
NEC is one of the great show innovations of the<br />
last decade. You can’t beat having a warm, dry,<br />
secure place to park up and disrobe, especially<br />
if you’ve just ridden a hundred or more miles<br />
in the freezing cold or the pissing rain. And<br />
it’s free. If you’re not sensible enough to ride a<br />
machine that can swallow all your gear, there’s<br />
the Riders for Health helmet and clobber stand<br />
to look after it for you, for a quid or two in a<br />
good cause. <strong>The</strong> only downside is that the bike<br />
park shares the same roof space as the Ramp’d<br />
Up freestyle arena, which you can’t see, because<br />
it’s all curtained off, but boy can you hear it!<br />
<strong>The</strong> deafening commentary is as loud as the<br />
leaping bikes, and I put my earplugs in while I<br />
packed my gear into the Tmax (although I hadn’t<br />
needed them on the motorway!).<br />
I am always astounded when fellow bikers say<br />
‘there’s nothing at the show’ and that they<br />
whizzed around it in a couple of hours. I’m one<br />
of those people who can spend an entire day<br />
at an NEC show, and still miss half the things I<br />
wanted to see, which is why I often come back<br />
the next day. And this year was no exception!<br />
And even after the best part of two days, I could<br />
easily have spent another day there!<br />
Every enthusiast has their own ‘take’ on a bike<br />
show and will be interested in, or attracted to,<br />
different things. I’m the first to admit that I am<br />
not your average biker, and I’m not your average<br />
bike journo either. <strong>The</strong>se are just a few of the<br />
things which caught my eye, starting with the<br />
manufacturers’ stands.<br />
PIAGGIO GROUP. (Aprilia, Derbi, Moto Guzzi,<br />
Piaggio, Vespa) <strong>The</strong> new Aprilia Caponord<br />
1200 looks a lot slimmer than its porky,<br />
1000cc predecessor. <strong>The</strong> re-badged, re-styled<br />
75bhp SRV 850 definitely looks better than its<br />
forerunner, the Gilera GP800, but that exposed<br />
rear chain really spoils its claim to be any kind of<br />
scooter in my book. On the other hand, keeping<br />
the price under £8,000 makes it look like a lot<br />
of scoot for the money compared to the pricey<br />
new BMW maxiscoots which have 15bhp less,<br />
with ‘only’ 60bhp.<br />
It’s extraordinary to see the venerable Vespa<br />
PX125 back from the ‘dead’, so to speak,<br />
complete with 2-stroke engine! But the honest<br />
Piaggio representative I spoke to admitted<br />
that the exhaust strangulation required to get<br />
it through modern emission controls means<br />
that it won’t do much more than 45mph. And<br />
who needs to mess about with a clutch and<br />
twistgrip gearchange these days when the<br />
modern twist’n’go machines, with their four<br />
stroke engines, are zippier anyway?<br />
<strong>The</strong> Piaggio X10 which was shown as a<br />
prototype in Milan last year, seems to have<br />
transferred to production with both looks and<br />
practicality and by all accounts, performance<br />
which belies its 330cc capacity. I’m looking<br />
forward to riding one, especially if the 500cc<br />
version comes to the UK. It was also interesting<br />
to see that Piaggio UK have decided to import<br />
an LT version of their MP3 500 leaning three<br />
wheeler (previously the Gilera Fuoco) which<br />
means of course that you can drive the 90+mph<br />
machine on a car licence, without even having<br />
to bother with CBT, never mind all the hoops<br />
of a motorcycle test. (Look for the compulsory<br />
footbrake to tell the LTs from the motorcyclecategory<br />
machines).<br />
I haven’t tried any of the modern Moto Guzzis<br />
yet, but would like to because they look as if<br />
they’ve captured the quirky charm of the ‘70s<br />
originals and updated them for the 21st century.<br />
BMW. <strong>The</strong> most striking machine on the BMW<br />
stand was the all-electric C-Evo maxiscooter,<br />
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Simon Pavey’s 450 Dakar bike on the right<br />
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which I’ve already had the great pleasure of<br />
riding (of which more anon) but sadly, it’s not<br />
due for production until 2014. BMW’s petrol<br />
maxis are on sale of course, but it’s a shame<br />
they’re so expensive, because I know they<br />
could change a lot of people’s preconceptions<br />
about scooters. No doubt they’ll sell tons more<br />
of the new watercooled R1200GS, even though<br />
it’s bound to be even more expensive! <strong>The</strong> new<br />
F800GT actually looks like a more practical and<br />
affordable all-rounder for those who don’t share<br />
my penchant for getting onto the dirt and it<br />
should be a lot less thirsty than the 1200 twins<br />
too. <strong>The</strong> new F700GS was on display, which is<br />
of course a ‘refreshed’ version of the old F650GS,<br />
and like its predecessor is really an 800!<br />
BMW’s off road training maestro Si Pavey was<br />
there, although his new 450 Dakar rally bike was<br />
naturally on the adjacent Husqvarna stand,<br />
since that’s what it’s based on. (<strong>The</strong> Swedishnamed,<br />
Italian-based company is of course now<br />
owned by the German manufacturer). Si said he<br />
was really looking forward to riding it in South<br />
America next month, since it’s so much easier<br />
to handle than the heffalumps he’s ridden in<br />
the past. However he was frustrated that, for<br />
reasons best known to themselves, the Dakar<br />
organisers had refused an entry to his son<br />
Llewelyn who has just proved the foolishness<br />
of their decision by dicing with the leaders in the<br />
recent Taklimakan rally in China. I rather fancy<br />
a go on one of the new Husky Nuda 900 too,<br />
which certainly looks a lot different from the<br />
BMW F800 that it’s based on.<br />
Talking of rally bikes, it was good to see the<br />
immaculate KTM 690 rally machine on the<br />
TrailBlazers stand, since all the rally equipment<br />
is made by my friend John Mitchenson who<br />
started Rally Raid products as a sideline to his<br />
main plastic moulding business about three<br />
years ago. For some reason KTM have never even<br />
made an adventure version of the 690, let alone<br />
a pukka rally competition version (as they used<br />
to with the 640 Adventure and 660 Rally) leaving<br />
a nice big hole in the market for John (who is an<br />
experienced rally rider himself).<br />
KTM. <strong>The</strong> Austrian firm’s new 1190 Adventure<br />
V-twin was attracting a lot of punter interest<br />
and looks as if it could provide a serious<br />
rival to BMW’s new R1200GS. However, I was<br />
disappointed that there was no sign of the new<br />
electric Freeride, since KTM released a fantastic<br />
video of the bike ‘rocking Barcelona’ over a year<br />
ago. Can’t wait to get my hands on one when<br />
they finally go into production. http://www.<br />
youtube.com/watch?v=t5SqoyR8Ht0<br />
HONDA. <strong>The</strong> most exciting Honda thing at the<br />
show, for me, was the video about the making<br />
of the bike stunts across the rooftops of<br />
Istanbul in the new Bond film, Skyfall. It made<br />
me want to see the film, for that sequence<br />
alone! I was delighted to discover that one<br />
of the stunt riders was none other than the<br />
fearless Aussie Robbie Madison whom I’ve had<br />
the pleasure of watching turning somersaults<br />
at Goodwood, and millions more have seen<br />
on YouTube jumping up to, and down from,<br />
the Las Vegas replica of the Arc de Triomphe<br />
in Las Vegas. Both the Skyfall bikes were on<br />
display too.<br />
Personally, the most interesting new Honda<br />
was the Forza 300 scooter, because previous<br />
versions were never imported into the UK and<br />
it’s a very good looking scoot and much more<br />
my cup of tea than the big-wheeled but ugly<br />
SH300. <strong>The</strong> Forza formed part of several very<br />
astute ‘What I can ride’ displays explaining the<br />
new motorcycle licence categories which come<br />
into effect in January. Some, such as the 28mph<br />
moped and 11kw 125cc categories stay the<br />
same – it’s the new A2 licence which has really<br />
rung the changes.<br />
SUZUKI. Suzuki have given their venerable<br />
Burgman 650 a revamp but it’s more of a makeover<br />
than a facelift. In fact it doesn’t look like<br />
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much more than a re-spray with funky matt<br />
paint. <strong>The</strong> weight, power and torque were all<br />
helpfully described as ‘TBC’ and there was no<br />
sign of a price either. As a big Burger 650 fan<br />
for many years (I’ve got two) I can only hope<br />
that Suzuki’s engineers have managed to get the<br />
power up and the weight down, to rival the spec<br />
of the new BMW C650GT, but without getting<br />
too near its price! And talking of prices, it was a<br />
shock to see that an ABS-equipped Burger 400<br />
now costs £6,399!<br />
TRIUMPH. Triumph’s 1200 Adventure, which was<br />
another bike I saw launched in Milan last year,<br />
seems to be doing great business following rave<br />
reviews in the press. I’m dying to try one, along<br />
with the new Tiger 800, which is also rivalling its<br />
BMW equivalent and it was good to see the ‘Help<br />
for Heroes’ Tiger equipped with British-made<br />
Metal Mule panniers. <strong>The</strong> new ‘bagger’ version<br />
of the Rocket III looks a lot more practical than<br />
the naked version and is yet another ‘must try’<br />
Triumph on my list. <strong>The</strong>n again, I know two very<br />
experienced riders who’ve both dropped Rocket<br />
IIIs when they’ve locked up the front wheel, so<br />
it’s probably just as well that they now come<br />
with ABS as standard.<br />
YAMAHA. <strong>The</strong> most intriguing machine on<br />
the Yamaha stand was the new Project 3 three<br />
cylinder beast – the company’s first triple<br />
since the shaft drive XS750 and 850s of yore<br />
(remember them?). But as a superscoot fan, I was<br />
equally excited to see the new ‘Blackmax’ version<br />
of the Tmax530, complete with gold wheels<br />
and, glory be, ABS! Marketing man Simon<br />
Belton confirmed that Yamaha UK will finally be<br />
bringing in some ABS-equipped Tmaxes in the<br />
new year. And not a moment too soon, bearing<br />
in mind that the Mk2 version, was available<br />
with ABS sur le continent back in 2004. Over<br />
on the Black Horse stage, there was another,<br />
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virtually unrecognisable ‘dirt track’ version of<br />
the Tmax which had been ‘hyper modified’ by<br />
American custom guru Roland Sands. I certainly<br />
wouldn’t want to ride it down the M40 on a<br />
dark and wintry night, but I’m sure it would be<br />
top fun on a twisty back road in the summer.<br />
Check out the videos of it in action for yourself<br />
on Yamaha Motor Europe’s website. https://<br />
www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_<br />
embedded&v=DCyAYeoLv-w#!<br />
ZERO. As a long time fan of all things electric<br />
on two wheels, it was great to see the Zero<br />
stand at the NEC. <strong>The</strong> American machines are<br />
now equipped with their own more powerful<br />
in-house motors, and have had their styling<br />
refreshed for the second time in two years. <strong>The</strong><br />
only downside is that they’ve gone from having<br />
six models which were all learner legal in 2012,<br />
to six models of which none is learner legal for<br />
2013. Doh! 2012 models are still available, but<br />
I’m looking forward very much to riding the new<br />
ones, the sportiest of which are now capable of<br />
nearly 100mph with a claimed range of 70 miles<br />
at 70mph. Believe you me, electric bikes and<br />
scoots are the future, especially for commuting.<br />
KüBERG. Czech-made Küberg electric bikes are<br />
for kids, and like their British rivals OSET, use old<br />
fashioned lead acid batteries to keep the price<br />
down below £1,000. <strong>The</strong>y have plenty of power<br />
and range for a young beginner, and you’d be<br />
amazed at what they can do in the right hands.<br />
Electric is also an ideal way for anyone to have<br />
their first experience of a powered two wheeler,<br />
whether they’re a 16 year old on a Yamaha EC02<br />
or a 6 year old on a Küberg or OSET.<br />
GET ON. <strong>The</strong> Get On new rider training area<br />
duly had an EC02 electric moped, along with a<br />
good selection of both geared and automatic<br />
machinery for PTW virgins to have their first<br />
lesson on. Main man Nick Stephenson told<br />
me that the area was deliberately screened off<br />
from the public because experience showed<br />
that spectators could get rowdy and make new<br />
riders very uncomfortable.<br />
TEST RIDES. Experienced riders could also try a<br />
host of new machines out on the road, including<br />
a Zero, which would have been my own top<br />
choice if I’d had the time. <strong>The</strong>re were also indoor<br />
tracks for both young kids, courtesy of KTM and<br />
Kiddimoto, and for adults, courtesy of Yamaha.<br />
Nick Sanders Sam Manicom<br />
NICK SANDERS. It was good to see my old<br />
friend Nick Sanders, with his customary stand<br />
and cinema appropriately opposite his Yamaha<br />
sponsors. Fans will know that he’s recently<br />
changed allegiance from his customary R1s<br />
to the new Super Ténéré 1200 for his latest<br />
adventures in North and South America, but not<br />
many people know that he first went around<br />
the world by pushbike, and broke the Guinness<br />
record while doing so. His free 11 minute<br />
highlights video is well worth seeing, and the<br />
man himself is always entertaining. Right now,<br />
he has an adventure centre under construction<br />
at his home in mid Wales, which I’m looking<br />
forward to seeing.<br />
TRAVEL DRI STAND. In addition to all the useful<br />
kit, there were no fewer than three adventure<br />
motorcycling authors on the Travel Dri stand;<br />
Sam Manicom, Nathan ‘Postie Bike’ Millward and<br />
Graham Field. I’ve read all four of Sam’s books<br />
and can recommend all of them (particularly the<br />
last two, because I edited those myself). I’ve yet<br />
to read Nathan’s Long Ride Home or Graham’s<br />
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Looking for Greener Grass, but I’ve heard good<br />
things about both. Mr ‘Metal Mule’ Paul Goulding<br />
was also squeezed onto a corner of the Travel Dri<br />
stand, and he explained why his new budget<br />
panniers are only half the price of the original<br />
ones, while remaining equally robust.<br />
Of course lots of people go to the bike show<br />
mainly to pick up a bargain. If that’s your plan,<br />
it makes perfect sense to go with four wheels.<br />
No question, especially if you’re buying things<br />
like tyres or bike stands. Last year I bought a<br />
full face, flip front lid for £50, which is no more<br />
than you can pay for some visors. (It’s not perfect<br />
because it’s bloody noisy and the inner sun visor<br />
doesn’t retract properly, but it looks better in<br />
photos than my nice quiet old Schubert.) This<br />
year I splashed out £10 for a half price bike cover<br />
and £17 for a pricey plug-in power socket.<br />
Talking of tyres, I was entertained for several<br />
minutes at the Black Horse stage by Steve Parrish<br />
commentating while rufty tufty bikers held a<br />
knobbly tyre at each end of an out-stetched arm<br />
for as long as they could manage. One minute<br />
was tough, two minutes heroic.<br />
I bumped into MAG man, Overland editor and<br />
TRD columnist Paddy Tyson on the way out of<br />
the show on Monday and he was amused to<br />
discover that he had covered the same amount<br />
of miles since July 2012 – 24,000 – on his brand<br />
new Honda NC 700, as my 2008 Tmax has since<br />
it started life as a Yamaha press bike four years<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
Paddy Tyson and his NC700<br />
ago. I was also impressed that there’s as much<br />
space in the dummy NC700 tank as there is in<br />
the underseat ‘boot’ of my Tmax.<br />
Amongst many other things, I would have<br />
liked to see some of the brain-out motocross<br />
skills on display in the Ramp’d Up event which<br />
deafened me on the way in, but I never even<br />
made it into that hall. Bearing in mind that I<br />
didn’t see or do even half the things available in<br />
two days at Motorcycle Live, I can’t help thinking<br />
there’d be some takers for a reduced price (or<br />
even free) ‘come back next day’ punter ticket,<br />
but it would obviously have to be valid for only<br />
one individual, to stop people flogging them!<br />
Well, the press passes are now individualised,<br />
complete with passport photo, so in theory,<br />
there’s no reason why the punter ones couldn’t<br />
be too…<br />
For the record, the trusty Tmax got me back to<br />
Richmond at an average speed of about 70mph,<br />
door to door. In the whole damp and dark 113<br />
miles I only saw one bike, a Honda CBR600,<br />
cruising about 30mph slower than me. I was very<br />
glad of my heated jacket and screen extension<br />
and only wish I’d been able to plug in my heated<br />
gloves! It’s hard to beat a superscooter in<br />
the winter!<br />
Paul Blezard<br />
Many thanks to Andy Cadney for his<br />
Midlands hospitality<br />
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Happiness Is Just<br />
Round <strong>The</strong> Bend<br />
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ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
Mark Renton would have got<br />
sportsbikes, had Irvine Welsh chosen<br />
to introduce him to this particular<br />
obsession in his acclaimed novel Trainspotting.<br />
Already with tight jeans, skinny-fit t-shirt and<br />
trainers he would have only needed a Simpson<br />
Bandit lid and a Durex Suzuki paddock jacket<br />
to be at home on a Gixxer. And, like his smack<br />
habit, sportsbikes would have got under his skin.<br />
Some people just don’t geddit – and that’s fair<br />
enough. Look at the practicalities and just about<br />
nothing stacks up in their favour. Like drugs.<br />
But by that measure no-one would do much of<br />
anything, except work.<br />
As they say in showbusiness, ‘always leave them<br />
wanting more’. <strong>The</strong> local drug-dealer probably<br />
has the same philosophy. And, as someone who<br />
has loved sportsbikes for all of my 25 years of<br />
riding, I admit that to be the nature of the beast.<br />
If my passion were to be sated I would be a very<br />
unhappy man.<br />
I think I can probably total in a single figure the<br />
number of times per year I come back from a ride<br />
feeling elated with how it went. I’m not talking<br />
about formal roadcraft here – that should be a<br />
given and if I were regularly walking back into<br />
the house thinking I’d made a total bollocks of my<br />
interactions with other road users I’d be looking<br />
for some advanced training. No, I’m talking<br />
about the fun bit. I’m always chasing, chasing<br />
something that keeps just ahead of me most<br />
of the time. I often get to touch it, sometimes I<br />
get to hold it for a few seconds but it’s always a<br />
tenuous grasp and it slips away again. <strong>The</strong>re are<br />
days when it remains that far out of reach that I<br />
give it up as a bad job and come home and do a<br />
bit of gardening instead. Thankfully, those days<br />
of abject incompetence are rare.<br />
I’m talking about the hit, the rush that you get<br />
when you step outside of your comfort zone,<br />
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when your senses are shouting ‘oh no!’ and<br />
your ringpiece is bracing itself, when you really<br />
should be backing off (but you know that for<br />
reasons of machine stability, actually that would<br />
be the worst thing to do), but you go ahead and<br />
trust yourself and get round the corner pretty<br />
sharpish and out the other side feeling like a<br />
TT racer. It’s the point at which your arsehole<br />
relaxes, still mid-corner but you know it’s going<br />
to pan out, and for that moment you’re in a club<br />
on the dancefloor and the DJ has just dropped a<br />
hooj slab of piano-house on the decks and the<br />
place has erupted. That. That moment is what<br />
it’s all about and it’s so addictive that you want<br />
it again and again. But it’s elusive.<br />
<strong>The</strong>re are three ways you can search for<br />
this spiritual nirvana. First up is the ‘smack<br />
approach’: this is spicy and most times you nail<br />
it but sometimes you overcook it. Throw in a<br />
few blind corner/brow of hill overtakes (these<br />
little pills can both be dropped for extra zing).<br />
Filtration is compulsory, you should not wait<br />
to establish whether it is strictly necessary.<br />
<strong>The</strong> highs can be out of this world but have<br />
the potential to wreck the lives of everyone<br />
around you, as well as your own. Misjudgement<br />
of dosage is frequently lethal. Personally, I’d<br />
choose something else.<br />
Those with a more delicate constitution may<br />
prefer the ‘toke’. This is a far more relaxing<br />
experience and whilst there are highs to be had<br />
they wash over rather than hit you. Sometimes<br />
I’ve involuntarily found myself in this fug where<br />
everything is a bit woolly. Brakes are warmed<br />
gently, corners come and go without event<br />
and you slingshot out of them through sticky,<br />
tacky tar, the result of lazy gear selection. Or<br />
rather, non-selection, riding on the throttle.<br />
Nice if you’re dozing on a litre bike, no-go<br />
on something buzzy. Everything is nice, OK,<br />
peaceful – makes you want to scream, “get me<br />
out of here!”.<br />
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ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
I prefer to be ‘on one’, rattling with motorcycle<br />
MDMA. <strong>The</strong>oretically it could do me some<br />
harm but I’d be unlucky. Living one of those<br />
rare, perfect days when every sense seems to<br />
be in hyperdrive. Every line gets picked out and<br />
chopped up with seemingly hours to spare.<br />
As I approach the corner my vision is locked<br />
on like a Tomahawk missile, distance-to-go<br />
counter scrolling down the yards, judgement<br />
sucking in every available topographical clue<br />
to the severity of the corner that I can’t quite<br />
see through. Braking is late and hard but with<br />
something in reserve and I bang it down the<br />
box to keep the motor in that sweet spot. All<br />
done before the tip-in, forks unloaded, cheek<br />
off seat and in we go! <strong>The</strong>n I get the flutter as<br />
the corner opens out and the field of play is<br />
exposed. I know, I just know deep down that I’m<br />
going to be alright because what I see is more or<br />
less what I expected to see but I also know that<br />
this is not normal behaviour, that things could<br />
get messy. And which way the next second or so<br />
goes is down to me. Gas just cracked on gently,<br />
get that shoulder low, low, low and keeping my<br />
eyes level, everything poised to roll the throttle<br />
at the perfect spot. And there it is! On comes the<br />
tap and we’re outta there, bang! E-zee.<br />
My dealer lives in the countryside and he<br />
generally meets me on twisty A, B and C-roads<br />
to do some business. We avoid the unwanted<br />
attention that motorways or fast A-roads might<br />
bring. Straightlining on speed is not my poison,<br />
any damn fool can go fast in a straight line<br />
and plenty do: a generation of speed camera<br />
technology is forever in their debt. We have a<br />
lot to thank sat-nav for, as so many people turn<br />
it on and disengage their navigational senses,<br />
obediently following the prescribed routes like<br />
lines of shackled inmates trapped in a dystopian<br />
penitentiary. Few dig out a map and work out<br />
their own route along unexplored roads, the<br />
terror of dropping off the edge of the earth being<br />
too much to risk. And with 90% of the traffic<br />
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following the same routes plod has a captive<br />
audience – often literally. Another advantage<br />
of getting your kicks off Route 66 and on the<br />
more challenging roads to be found far from the<br />
madding crowd is that should you be unlucky<br />
enough to encounter an upholder of law and<br />
order, you’re going bloody fast when still below<br />
the point at which your license vaporises.<br />
So that’s me, that’s why I ride, where I ride and<br />
how I ride. Every year I’m hunting this thing<br />
down and I’ve been hooning after it for more<br />
than half my life. Every spring when the biking<br />
season starts I think that this is the year when<br />
I’ll grab it by the scruff of the neck and hang on,<br />
keep hanging on all year. But I never do. Every<br />
year I get a bit of a fumble, a one-night-stand<br />
at best, and it’s off again, enticingly close to my<br />
finger tips.<br />
But next year is going to be different…<br />
Andy Overton<br />
Andy’s 1994 ZXR400, which he has owned<br />
from new<br />
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Thank you<br />
Mr Honda<br />
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This is a story about love, hate and getting<br />
old. It’s also an homage to a great piece<br />
of motorcycle engineering.<br />
Back in 2007 I found myself needing to earn a<br />
little extra money and decided that the best<br />
thing I could do was join a local courier company<br />
as a bike messenger. I was riding a Yamaha<br />
SZR660 at the time, a single cylinder sports<br />
bike, which was totally not the right machine<br />
to be blatting up and down the motorway all<br />
day long. I needed something that would take<br />
the daily pounding a well-used courier bike had<br />
to endure.<br />
Having been a courier in London for four years<br />
or so at the tail end of the twentieth century,<br />
I already knew that one could use almost any<br />
bike as a work tool but certain makes and<br />
models tended to be at the top of the list due<br />
to particular characteristics. Back in the early<br />
110<br />
to mid 90s it was all Kawasaki GT550s, Honda<br />
CX500s, VT500s, Reveres and, of course, the BMW<br />
K and R series – all shaft drive and pretty much<br />
bulletproof. Any serious courier would almost<br />
certainly have one of these bikes. However,<br />
by the end of the decade we were starting to<br />
see more and more sports bikes being used on<br />
the circuit as late 80s/early 90s CBR600s and<br />
VFR750s fell enough in price to be snapped up<br />
by forever parsimonious couriers. Before long<br />
it became clear that couriers didn’t have to ride<br />
slow, heavy, cumbersome bikes around town,<br />
reliable though they may be.<br />
Living just off the A1(M) north of London, most of<br />
my work would be heading down to the smoke<br />
and back again so I wanted a bike that would<br />
happily cruise up and down the motorway at<br />
a fair lick but also handle the country roads<br />
that make up so much of Hertfordshire and the<br />
surrounds. I had less than a grand to spend and<br />
WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK<br />
ended up plumping for a 1993 CBR600, bought<br />
for £900 with 34,000 mile on the clock. It was<br />
liveried in a rather bright red, white and green<br />
that the guy I bought it off swore was a replica<br />
of the 1993 TT Marshalls bikes. It wasn’t the best<br />
of paint jobs but I didn’t care as I knew that after<br />
one winter’s riding, coupled with my somewhat<br />
lackadaisical approach to cleaning, it wouldn’t<br />
make any difference what colour the bike was.<br />
Even though I was only working a few days a<br />
week, I began racking up the miles and before<br />
long I had hit 50k, which was when the cdi<br />
unit failed and the battery boiled. I bodged in<br />
a replacement cdi from a CB250 Super Dream<br />
and carried on, the bike performing faultlessly.<br />
It was around this time that I had the first of my<br />
bodywork mishaps when the right hand side<br />
lower fairing ripped off while I was on my way<br />
home on the A1. I felt something hit my boot<br />
and looked down just in time to see this large<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
piece of plastic spin off behind me. I pulled over<br />
to the hard shoulder only to be followed by<br />
another car. <strong>The</strong> driver told me that the fairing<br />
had only just missed his bonnet. A Highways<br />
Agency vehicle pulled up a few minutes later<br />
and offered to go back and pick up the fairing<br />
for me but looking at the damage to the nose<br />
section I could see that all the mountings had<br />
torn away so I told them they could just dump it.<br />
Now the bike was really starting to look like a<br />
despatch bike. I was using a chain oiler called<br />
a Loobman. Designed by a London courier<br />
about fifteen years ago, it is a hand operated<br />
oil delivery device that no matter what I did I<br />
could never get set up properly. It either didn’t<br />
work or dumped a huge amount of oil all over<br />
the chain. Consequently, the back of the bike<br />
was a black oily mess. <strong>The</strong> red rims couldn’t be<br />
seen under all the road grime and thin coating<br />
of oil. Mind you, I have to say I never had any<br />
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ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
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issues with oil getting on to the tyre. Not long<br />
after losing the fairing lower, I noticed that the<br />
tail plastics were all cracked where I’d strapped<br />
the top box onto the pillion seat. Oh well,<br />
the top box wasn’t going anywhere so I just<br />
left it.<br />
A minor spill saw the nose fairing cracked in a<br />
number of places and the paint was starting<br />
to peel really badly now but still the engine<br />
plodded on without missing a beat. No matter<br />
what the weather, temperature, road conditions<br />
or length of journey the bike just kept on going.<br />
All I did was change the oil and filter on a regular<br />
basis and keep an eye on the consumables.<br />
On through 80k we rode together, the head<br />
bearings were definitely starting to show signs<br />
of wear by now and maybe there was the hint<br />
of a clutch slip starting to make itself apparent.<br />
But still the bike started, stopped, went round<br />
corners, accelerated and drank fuel as it did on<br />
the day I bought it. I have to say that over the<br />
last 20 years I have owned probably 15 bikes<br />
of various sizes and styles and in terms of<br />
reliability, the CBR stands head and shoulders<br />
above the rest. I just knew that when I went out<br />
each morning, there would be no doubt that it<br />
would start.<br />
However, around this time, I began to realise that<br />
I was starting to actively dislike the bike. I found<br />
myself hoping for some kind of mechanical<br />
failure so I wouldn’t have to go to work that<br />
day but the damn bike just kept on going.<br />
<strong>The</strong> seat had sagged so much I was sitting on<br />
the rails, not very comfortable when you’re on<br />
your way back from a drop and still have three<br />
hours of riding to go. I hated the way it looked,<br />
with its missing fairing lowers, cracked and<br />
peeling paint, the torn seat cover that gave you<br />
a damp arse days after it had last rained.<br />
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It’s funny how when you ride the same bike<br />
daily for the kind of miles a courier does, you<br />
get to be able to compensate for little faults and<br />
riding characteristics. <strong>The</strong> worn head bearings<br />
meant having to ignore the little ‘knock’ noise<br />
when going over bumps in the road, any signs<br />
of damp on the road had to be watched for<br />
due to worn tyres, having no speedo for a few<br />
months due to a broken cable and lack of giving<br />
a toss meaning it not getting replaced – I never<br />
once got into trouble for not knowing how fast<br />
I was going either. You get to know what speeds<br />
different revs in different gears represent. <strong>The</strong>se<br />
little things, OK some may argue that worn head<br />
bearings and tyres aren’t exactly ‘little’ things<br />
when it comes to rider safety, but they’re the<br />
things you just deal with until you can afford to<br />
get them fixed.<br />
People would look at my bike and shake their<br />
heads sadly, amazed that it was still running. I<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
remember at one BMF show a couple of years<br />
ago I was helping out at <strong>The</strong> Rider’s <strong>Digest</strong><br />
magazine stand where they had a display of<br />
Rat bikes. I’d parked my CBR with its handlebar<br />
muffs and backseat top box behind the row of<br />
display bikes and after a while we noticed people<br />
were looking at the rat bikes and then walking<br />
through to have a look at the CBR with the same<br />
‘I’m looking at a display bike’ expression on their<br />
faces. I kinda felt quite proud of that! Mind you,<br />
that wasn’t how I felt a day later when I ran out<br />
of fuel only to find I’d drained the tank because<br />
someone at the show had turned my fuel tap<br />
to reserve.<br />
Anyway, in spite of all that, underneath the crap,<br />
the bike just kept on running. Even with tyres<br />
worn down to and beyond the limits, I always<br />
had confidence throwing the bike into corners<br />
and as I’ve said, the engine continued to perform<br />
admirably. I think it’s a tribute to Honda’s build<br />
117
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books&DVDsbooks&DVDsbooks&DVDsbooks&DVDsbooks<br />
Ken Sprayson the frame man<br />
quality and design that the bike kept going after<br />
all I threw at it over those four years.<br />
I Ken ended Sprayson up doing – hero a of total cares of 80k to remember! and in He all made that the<br />
time the IoM I never TT with checked the TT first Norton featherbed<br />
the valve train or balanced<br />
Welding service!<br />
production frame, helped design<br />
the carbs, I only changed and the produce air filter the Dragonfly twice, oil<br />
Every year for 50 years, from<br />
frame, developed the Earles fork<br />
every 4-5,000 miles and filter every second<br />
1958 to 2008, Ken, welding torch<br />
into the legendary Reynolds<br />
change. in hand, repaired <strong>The</strong> the rear damage<br />
Racing fork, made innovative<br />
shock was the same one on<br />
wrought by these infamous roads<br />
and successful racing frames for<br />
the on racing bike frames. when I bought it Geoff and Duke, the Jeff suspension<br />
Smith, Mike<br />
He ran a completely free<br />
Hailwood, and John Surtees and<br />
linkage had never been lubed or adjusted in<br />
welding service for novices and<br />
many others.<br />
my world ownership.<br />
champions alike, giving<br />
his time and expertise for no<br />
reward and always a perfect job<br />
done with a smile! To racers with<br />
But I guess one can only take so much and I<br />
broken bikes Ken was little short<br />
even made the frame for Thrust 2<br />
came of a saint.<br />
the British World Land Speed<br />
to realise that to get the bike in to some<br />
Ken has been a legend among<br />
record breaking car propelled by<br />
semblance motorcycle racers of and normality enthusiasts<br />
a would jet engine. cost far more<br />
than for more its years value than after he probably<br />
This is a fantastic book which<br />
I had fixed all the little things<br />
that needed doing. <strong>The</strong> engine however, that<br />
It’s a steal<br />
50 <strong>The</strong> ROAD<br />
Twitter<br />
@IanMutch<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
At Reynolds he became the<br />
master of making light but strong<br />
welded frames from Reynolds<br />
531 tubing. He was so good he<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Harley to Mali<br />
£7.99<br />
plus £1.50 P&P<br />
beating heart of the bike, still seemed as strong<br />
as ever. I could do nothing to make it falter.<br />
As you may have guessed I’m not the most autofriendly<br />
kinda guy – I want my machinery to<br />
keep going with the least amount of mechanical<br />
input from me. <strong>The</strong> CBR was the first bike I’ve ever<br />
owned where I could say without any hesitation<br />
– it was totally reliable, never missed a beat and<br />
I’d have another one in a shot if circumstances<br />
demanded it. So thank you Mr Honda. I will<br />
forever sing the praises of the CBR and while<br />
ISBN 978-0-9564975-6-7<br />
I will remember her with Panther mixed Publishing emotions, Ltd. she<br />
will always remain the most rollo@panther-publishing.com<br />
reliable bike I have<br />
ever owned.<br />
takes you back to when British<br />
industry led the world and British<br />
bikes were setting the pace.<br />
Ken’s book will be launched at<br />
the International Classic Bike<br />
Show at Stafford, April 28-29<br />
where Ken will be a guest of<br />
honour surrounded by some of<br />
the many racing specials for<br />
which he designed and built the<br />
frames.<br />
Publication: April 2012.<br />
Recommended price £14.95<br />
(includes UK p&p when<br />
ordered from Panther<br />
Publishing)<br />
229 pages, 234 x 176mm,<br />
softback, 170 photos and<br />
illustrations.<br />
Roger Tuson<br />
By Ian Mutch<br />
www.mutchmotorcyclebooks.com<br />
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119
120<br />
IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT BIKES...<br />
<strong>The</strong> Carin’ Sharin’ Chronicles<br />
By Dave Gurman (ISBN978-0-9560863-0-3)<br />
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Treading<br />
<strong>The</strong> Boards<br />
Whenever you put an engine and<br />
gearbox into a frame with some<br />
handlebars and a pair of wheels<br />
something happens that causes the collection<br />
of components to become greater than the sum<br />
of its parts.<br />
Bikes take on an identity that defines them<br />
and often causes them to become part of a<br />
genre, whether they are cruisers, race replicas,<br />
tourers, adventure bikes or whatever, and<br />
taken to extremes some of those labels and<br />
marques frequently attract a cult following, for<br />
example Gold Wings, Harleys and Ducatis, often<br />
commanding respect but occasionally resulting<br />
in mockery and derision from other riders.<br />
One such cult that has enjoyed a massive<br />
following for more than half a century is the<br />
much maligned and misunderstood scooter.<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
I’m not talking of the modern twist and go<br />
variety, but the vintage Vespas and Lambrettas<br />
that are enduring iconic mainstays of the<br />
Mod movement.<br />
Alan Gomme has seen the trends come and<br />
go, and the popularity of these Italian legends<br />
wax and wane, from the first fashionable craze<br />
in the early 1960s through a dip in the 70s, a<br />
Quadrophenia/Jam inspired resurgence in the<br />
early 80s, to the current increase in demand<br />
for factory originals. Alan has been living with<br />
scooters since he was 13.<br />
Now in his early sixties, Alan was interested<br />
in lathe machining as a lad, but rather than<br />
turning wood in the nearby Morgan’s timber<br />
yard, he started by helping out at the fledgling<br />
Medway Scooters; they had a lathe and his dad<br />
had a scooter. It all seemed to fit, so he started<br />
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ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
helping out in the evenings after school, making<br />
the most of the opportunity to get his hands on<br />
the lathe to further his interest.<br />
After an apprenticeship as a coppersmith and<br />
engineer at the nearby Chatham Dockyard Alan<br />
wanted to break away from the ‘school like’<br />
environment and brown coats, so he opted for<br />
a career working with the Italian two strokes.<br />
Medway Scooters had been formed a couple of<br />
years earlier in November 1962 by Ernie Randall<br />
and Norman Pettingale, Ernie (known as Charlie<br />
to all and sundry) was a lathe machinist at<br />
Hobourn Engineering as well as being a talented<br />
paint sprayer, while Norman worked for the local<br />
Lambretta agent.<br />
With a common interest in scooters they’d heard<br />
that the local Lambretta agent was moving out<br />
of Strood, so they decided to start their own<br />
business in the town, supplying, servicing,<br />
painting and repairing Lambretta and Vespa<br />
scooters.<br />
Initially Charlie continued to work for Hobourn<br />
Engineering while the business found its feet,<br />
but demand was such that he was soon able<br />
to join Norman full time, and with Charlie’s son<br />
Doug on board, later joined full time by Alan,<br />
the young company offered a range of services<br />
to scooter riders throughout the area.<br />
As well as the sales, repairs and servicing<br />
Medway Scooters also supplied a large number<br />
of accessories including chrome work and fly<br />
screens, and the chance for owners to customise<br />
their bikes – often when they were brand new –<br />
a service not offered by the main dealers.<br />
“We were painting hour old scooters,”<br />
remembers Alan, “the mod scene was huge,<br />
it was a style thing, and everybody wanted<br />
something independent. A lot of the time they’d<br />
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124 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
125
uy a stunning new T-shirt, and they wanted<br />
the scooter to match. It was common as muck<br />
to paint the same scooter three or four times<br />
in two years.”<br />
“When I first started in 1964 it was absolutely<br />
mental, there were so many scooters you<br />
couldn’t believe it, hundreds and hundreds of<br />
them, we seemed to be turning out accident<br />
repairs, we were always out collecting them,<br />
they were always breaking down. Lambrettas<br />
were a fantastic machine, but they were so<br />
unreliable.”<br />
After a few years Norman left the business to sell<br />
scooter spares from a van, leaving Charlie, Doug<br />
and Alan to focus on the core business, which<br />
had by then expanded to include the servicing<br />
and customising of Minis – also beloved of the<br />
Mod movement.<br />
But by the early seventies the initial scooter<br />
boom was over, Innocenti (manufacturers of<br />
the Lambretta) had fallen on hard times and by<br />
coincidence started to make a superior version<br />
of the Issigonis Mini under licence to British<br />
Leyland, while production of Lambretta scooters<br />
was sold off and shifted east to Lucknow in India.<br />
Vespa meanwhile had expanded its operations<br />
to include a range of three wheeled utility<br />
vehicles, but continued the manufacture of its<br />
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ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
iconic bulbous two wheelers well into the new<br />
millennium, despite poor sales in the UK for<br />
many years.<br />
Medway Scooters retained a loyal customer<br />
base, many keeping the same machines they<br />
had bought new in the 60s. “We never had a<br />
franchise, we had a tie-in with Bannisters, the<br />
local Lambretta dealers in Chatham. <strong>The</strong>y gave<br />
us a 15% discount, but the Vespa dealer – Grays<br />
– only gave us 10%, very tight! We were selling<br />
as many as they were.”<br />
With the help of the popularity of bands like <strong>The</strong><br />
Jam, Secret Affair, Nine Below Zero and the Mod<br />
movement, and with it the passion and demand<br />
for scooters maintained an equilibrium through<br />
the late 70s and into the 80s.<br />
With new variations such as choppers and rats,<br />
scooters became adopted by skinheads and<br />
scooterboys, the ‘cutdown’ was all the rage.<br />
According to Alan, “With all those lads that ran<br />
those scooters in the 80s, and stripped them<br />
all down, and cut them all back, it kept them<br />
alive. Full credit to them, they were protecting<br />
their culture, but they did seem to like the angle<br />
grinder in those days”<br />
<strong>The</strong>n in the mid 90s Blur’s Damon Albarn and<br />
Noel Gallagher from Oasis stepped up to begin<br />
the tabloid friendly ‘Battle of Britpop’ and<br />
127
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suddenly the demand for scooters changed up<br />
a gear, “It went ballistic. I would say it’s bigger<br />
today than it was in the sixties.”<br />
Looking around the premises, which started<br />
life as Bourne & Hilliers dairy, complete with a<br />
horse-washing bay, it’s interesting to see the<br />
contrast between the modern technology and<br />
the patina that comes with working in the same<br />
rooms for 50 years. Vintage signs and posters<br />
adorn the walls, the spray booth boasts many<br />
layers of paint on the walls, and the bench in<br />
the workshop still bears the same tools that Alan<br />
used when he first started in 1964.<br />
Despite the damp and chilly November weather<br />
both Alan and engine technician Rob are<br />
wearing shorts “it’s company policy” and much<br />
of the work is still done outside.<br />
In the MOT bay an ageing Yamaha Virago 535<br />
is going through its annual test. “We’ve been<br />
an MOT testing station since day one, we do a<br />
huge amount of MOTs.”<br />
This is where I came in, ten or twelve years ago.<br />
Over the years of bringing various bikes for<br />
Alan and Doug to test, I was always impressed<br />
by their knowledgeable and thorough but fair<br />
scrutiny. <strong>The</strong>y would readily offer tools and<br />
spares for the rider to carry out small repairs to<br />
help get a marginal bike through.<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
“We’re always very open to getting the spanners<br />
out, let the chap fix his bike if possible, that’s our<br />
rule of thumb.”<br />
<strong>The</strong> main building is like an Aladdin’s Cave of<br />
scooter folklore, with bikes of all shapes, ages<br />
and sizes sitting there in various states of repair<br />
from bare frames to pristine collectors items,<br />
and the racking in the stores bursting with parts<br />
and spares, old and new.<br />
A pair of Lambrettas stand a few feet from me,<br />
looking similar to my untrained eye in all but<br />
colour. <strong>The</strong> first difference I notice is the tyres.<br />
<strong>The</strong> white scooter on the left has a tread pattern<br />
that I recognise as a traditional Michelin, the<br />
orange one is wearing something like you’d<br />
expect to see on a Ducati Panigale.<br />
As I look closer the Orange bike, a Spanish built<br />
Serveta Lambretta, has been modified with<br />
a hydraulic four pot Nissin front calliper and<br />
drilled disc, while the more valuable Innocenti<br />
model still boasts the standard drum.<br />
Asked about the reliability of the scooters, Alan<br />
tells me that the long standing customers,<br />
average age between 50 and 75 have had their<br />
bikes repaired, rebuilt and resprayed several<br />
times over. “<strong>The</strong> biggest bonus Lambretta<br />
could have ever received was electronic ignition.<br />
Fantastic. 12 volt system fitted onto the bike,<br />
129
no points, no condenser, reliability factor<br />
gone through the roof, get on the bike, ride<br />
to Cornwall!”<br />
I ask him about the brakes. “<strong>The</strong> same. Shit. <strong>The</strong><br />
brakes have not changed, there are upgrades<br />
available, but if you want a classic SX200 you<br />
don’t want it to look like a twist and go.”<br />
At the back of Alan’s van is a barn find, picked up<br />
from Windsor the previous day. <strong>The</strong> bike is well<br />
rusted, the seat showing its skeleton of tiny coil<br />
springs. <strong>The</strong> other side of the van stands a near<br />
complete Lambretta – don’t ask me what model<br />
it is – but the attention to detail is stunning. It<br />
looks brand new.<br />
<strong>The</strong> barn find was the result of a phone call.<br />
People tend to know Alan, and how to find him;<br />
“When people call me up, ask me if I want to buy<br />
a bike, I always say yes. I think every Lambretta<br />
in this country should be back on the road, even<br />
if we only make a pound profit on it.”<br />
Near the outdoor workbench stands a yellow<br />
Vespa, almost complete but for a few panels;<br />
on the other side of the main doors a gaggle<br />
of Lambrettas, all looking as fresh as a daisy, sit<br />
waiting to be ridden away.<br />
One thing that’s remarkable is that several of<br />
these bikes have near concurrent Kent registered<br />
1965 ‘C’ suffix plates, just a few numbers apart.<br />
<strong>The</strong> only other example I’ve seen of this is when<br />
Routemaster buses were a common sight on the<br />
streets of London.<br />
A few years ago the trend was for custom<br />
airbrushed paintwork, featuring bands and even<br />
favourite beers, but most of the restoration work<br />
is now to try to get the scooters as near original<br />
as possible.<br />
Anything seems to be possible with these<br />
vintage machines, engines are totally rebuilt,<br />
bent or damaged lugs and brackets are cut off,<br />
straightened and repaired and welded back on.<br />
“I love the way now that motorcycles and<br />
scooters are accepted as part of English history.<br />
I’ve been in the same job for 48 years, still<br />
holding the same screwdriver, I live in the past,<br />
I am what I am.”<br />
“We had quite a few scooters in <strong>The</strong> Olympics,<br />
a lot of our customers were there, it was an<br />
amazing thing to see, makes you feel proud.”<br />
Alan and I chatted for ages, I could fill this<br />
whole copy of TRD with anecdotes and tales<br />
of the past fifty years in this hidden corner of<br />
the Medway Towns. Sadly Charlie and Doug<br />
are no longer with us, but it’s reassuring to see<br />
that 50 years on their legacy lives on in Alan’s<br />
capable hands.<br />
It’s been a strange experience for me. I’ve been<br />
involved with bikes for more than 40 years, and<br />
after all that time you tend to get an ingrained<br />
level of knowledge of what most of them are,<br />
how big, their idiosyncrasies, who made them,<br />
are they still made. But with scooters I’ve always<br />
felt like I’m on the outside looking in, so I’m<br />
grateful for the insight I’ve been given.<br />
I’ve been coming to Medway Scooters for<br />
years, mostly on bikes four or five times the<br />
displacement of a Vespa, which makes me feel a<br />
little bit like a Rabbi in a mosque, I know roughly<br />
what’s going on and why, but then again I know<br />
nothing.<br />
What’s very clear to me is that the same passion<br />
and enthusiasm exists among scooter riders as<br />
you get with bikers, we’ve co-existed for years<br />
in parallel universes. Sure, there was war in the<br />
early days, but there is now a growing mutual<br />
respect, and even admiration for each other.<br />
Next time I see Alan I’ll ask him if I can have a<br />
ride on one. That would make a good story for<br />
the spring…<br />
Martin Haskell<br />
www.medwayscooters.co.uk<br />
01634 719320<br />
130 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
131
132<br />
WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK<br />
Fear & Loathing in LA LA Land<br />
Everyone knows that we live in dangerous,<br />
lawless times; so anybody who rides an<br />
expensive or highly desirable motorcycle<br />
has to deal with the reality that there are hordes<br />
of thieving low-lives out there just waiting for<br />
the opportunity to steal their pride and joy.<br />
Love him or hate him, Michael Moore’s film<br />
“Bowling for Columbine” is intensely thought<br />
provoking as it attempts to discover what it<br />
is about the American psyche that produces<br />
tragedies like the 1999 Colorado massacre.<br />
Among the many fascinating insights (including<br />
the fact that Canadians own more guns per<br />
capita than their neighbours below the 49 th<br />
parallel, but they are far more likely to use<br />
them to shoot animals rather than each other)<br />
is a conversation between MM and a local<br />
politician in South Central LA who explains<br />
that while violent crime was actually falling in<br />
his constituency, the general impression was<br />
that it was increasing and consequently the<br />
population felt more anxious and fearful.<br />
So how does that happen? How can it be that<br />
things are actually getting better, but the<br />
public perception is that they are deteriorating<br />
rapidly and their world is disappearing down<br />
the slippery slope to hell on roller skates? <strong>The</strong><br />
answer is surprisingly simple really; it’s all down<br />
to the fourth estate – the Media!<br />
Every time the Daily Mail or MCN run a<br />
headline like the one opposite (accompanied<br />
by a host of extra pages carrying adverts for<br />
‘security’ products) the lives of their readers<br />
become just a little bit scarier. And with<br />
government departments nowadays leaking<br />
bad news and worrying information the way<br />
Norton Commandoes used to drip oil, it’s<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
hardly surprising that people are becoming<br />
increasingly nervous and neurotic. Within the<br />
last week we’ve had the Chancellor warning<br />
that the nation faces the worst economic<br />
crisis in 60 years (this article first appeared in<br />
issue 132 of TRD in October 2008 so Alistair<br />
Darling proved to spot one about that at least<br />
–– Ed), followed two days later by a ‘leaked’ draft<br />
Home Office letter to Downing Street saying<br />
that property crime and violent crime were<br />
likely to rise as a consequence of the economic<br />
downturn (which in turn allows brigands like<br />
Westminster Council to introduce a £1.50 levy<br />
to park motorcycles within their thiefdom and<br />
claim that it’s a legitimate a charge due to the<br />
expense of providing anchorage points – surely<br />
as disingenuous a justification for yet another<br />
‘stealth tax’ as any of Dame Shirley Porter’s<br />
mendacious manipulations).<br />
Media hype aside, there’s no question that<br />
motorcycle theft is a cause for concern; as regular<br />
readers will be aware two of our contributors<br />
have had their motorcycles stolen this year.<br />
Wildcat – with a tenacity that does justice to her<br />
pen name – managed to locate and reclaim her<br />
XT600 from the joy-rider who stole it (see issue<br />
125); while R6 Girl’s eponymous motorcycle was<br />
lifted (literally) from outside her work, never to<br />
be seen again (aside from a gut-wrenching CCTV<br />
action replay).<br />
It was R6 Girl’s traumatic experience that<br />
prompted this article. Keen to hang onto her<br />
replacement, she decided to fit it with a superduper<br />
tracking device, which gave us a great<br />
idea for a <strong>Digest</strong> feature; we’d ‘steal’ her new bike<br />
and the tracking people would demonstrate<br />
just how hot they are by locating it. Proper<br />
journalism, great stuff – I even commissioned<br />
133
134 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK<br />
the cover on the strength of it. We lifted her black<br />
Yamaha into the back of a van, which triggered<br />
the tamper device informing the tracking control<br />
that the chase was on (I should point out here<br />
that CYC drivers don’t usually steal motorcycles,<br />
but given our serious journalistic intentions his<br />
company were good enough to make Raf and<br />
his van available for the experiment). Arriving<br />
at a secret location in Charlton (SE London) at<br />
noon, we loaded our booty into a container (as<br />
we’d agreed we would with the trackers) and as<br />
we’d been informed that the trackers wouldn’t<br />
set off until the bike was stationary, we went<br />
down the road for a fry up.<br />
Returning 45 minutes later with our arteries<br />
suitably hardened, we got comfortable and<br />
waited for the cavalry to arrive. And we waited…<br />
and waited… and then we waited some more.<br />
Fortunately we’d chosen one of the few truly<br />
glorious days this ‘summer’, so Rod and I were<br />
able to catch a few rays as the sun arced<br />
languidly across the sky. At about 3pm I got a call<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
to say that the trackers had picked up a strong<br />
signal and they’d started closing in on it, but it<br />
had faded again. “Yeah,” I said “that’ll be when<br />
I opened the doors of the container to take a<br />
picture.” I reminded them that we had a 4pm cut<br />
off point due to parental responsibilities, then<br />
popped another Coke and went back to basking.<br />
<strong>The</strong>y called again at 15.55 begging us to hang<br />
on because they had a strong signal and they<br />
were so warm that they were burning up (hide<br />
& seek wise). I pointed out that that was because<br />
we’d just rolled the Yammy out of its steel cage<br />
to return it to its rightful owner.<br />
By the time I arrived home I’d realised the story<br />
I’d been planning for issue 131 about a device<br />
that would provide motorcyclists with real<br />
peace of mind was dead in the water. Of course<br />
there were all sorts of perfectly logical reasons to<br />
mitigate the trackers’ failure to ‘save’ R6 Girl’s bike<br />
and I don’t doubt for a moment that if we’d have<br />
given them another chance they would have<br />
redeemed themselves; however, that doesn’t<br />
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ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
detract from the fact that if it hadn’t been myself,<br />
Rod and the delightful Raf having it off with the<br />
lass’s new favourite legover, she’d probably have<br />
been too devastated and emotionally scarred to<br />
ever write for the <strong>Digest</strong> again.<br />
I had no time to rethink the happy ending I’d<br />
expected, so we binned the story and ran a<br />
replacement. To be honest it would probably<br />
have stayed that way if it hadn’t been for the<br />
fantastic cartoons Simon Kewer came up with<br />
when I thought I was going to be writing about<br />
the new scourge of the bad guys; but they were<br />
much to good to waste so I spent weeks trying<br />
to work out what to write. <strong>The</strong>n it suddenly<br />
dawned on me that the result of our test wasn’t<br />
really any surprise at all, I’d known all along that<br />
the awful truth is, if a valuable machine is left<br />
out in the open and a serious professional bike<br />
thief spots it, he will find a way of stealing it,<br />
irrespective of any security measures you’ve<br />
taken (if that sounds a bit depressing and<br />
defeatist, it’s worth considering something my<br />
old friend Vern said: considering that a single<br />
collision in distant space could send a meteor<br />
hurtling this way that’s big enough to obliterate<br />
any trace of life on Earth, we’re living in a fire trap<br />
with absolutely nothing by way of household<br />
insurance).<br />
So am I suggesting that there’s no point in doing<br />
anything to deter potential thieves? No, not at all;<br />
a large percentage of bike thefts are opportunist<br />
crimes committed by young ill equipped joyriders,<br />
who’d be deterred by a cheap disc lock<br />
and many of the more acquisitive thefts are<br />
being committed by third rate duckers and<br />
divers with a Transit and a decent set of boltcutters,<br />
rather than the experienced professional<br />
gangs you hear about that steal exotic bikes to<br />
order. All I’m saying is that in this thoroughly<br />
mixed up modern world, it’s perfectly normal to<br />
feel insecure – if you weren’t the media wouldn’t<br />
be doing its job properly; and that job is to scare<br />
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you into believing that you need the expensive<br />
products they’re advertising, products that are<br />
ultimately designed to allow you to sleep at<br />
night once they’ve done scaring you.<br />
So what would happen if advertising and the<br />
media were completely obliterated from the<br />
equation? Presumably a lot more people would<br />
adopt simple low cost options like Lock 2 Lock<br />
parking www.lock2lock.co.uk – and if it did<br />
become the norm, you’d soon find out if you<br />
were using a sub-standard pushover of a chain<br />
because your bike would find itself shunned, left<br />
to stand alone in parking bays by other more<br />
security conscious owners who understand that<br />
any chain is only as strong as the weakest link<br />
and therefore choose to attach their machine<br />
to something a bit more solid (until that time<br />
comes the addition from <strong>Digest</strong> This in TRD issue<br />
113 might offer some pointers).<br />
Another cheap but priceless option is to join<br />
your local Neighbourhood Watch (or speak to<br />
your local police station about starting one<br />
if one doesn’t already exist where you live –<br />
providing of course that there still is a police<br />
station in your area!). <strong>The</strong> best thing about<br />
the scheme, as any crime prevention officer<br />
will tell you, is that to make it really work it<br />
needs to be attached to a healthy functioning<br />
local association. It doesn’t matter if you call<br />
yourselves a community, residents’ or tenants’<br />
association, the important thing is that you<br />
are part of an identifiable community and that<br />
you get to know your neighbours. Because let’s<br />
face it, you can have the loudest alarm in the<br />
known universe and the thickest chain, but if<br />
your neighbours neither know you nor care<br />
about you, they’re likely to regard the noise<br />
generated by the thief’s angle grinder and your<br />
bike’s distress signal, as a source of annoyance,<br />
rather than cause for concern, empathy and<br />
action – even if that only involves calling<br />
the police.<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
It’s reassuring to feel that you are part of a<br />
community and although others within these<br />
very pages have cocked a snook at the use of<br />
the word with reference to motorcyclingkind,<br />
as I’ve said elsewhere in this issue, I believe we<br />
share more than enough common ground to<br />
engender a degree of empathy. So the next<br />
time you see someone behaving suspiciously<br />
around a motorcycle – you know attacking it<br />
with bolt croppers or loading it into the back<br />
of a van with the alarm screaming – if you feel<br />
safe to do so, why not ask them what they’re<br />
doing? If it’s their bike, they’ll be glad to know<br />
somebody cares and if it isn’t they’re just as<br />
likely to give up and make a quick getaway.<br />
And even if you – understandably – don’t feel<br />
comfortable about confronting a potentially<br />
dangerous criminal, you can always make a<br />
note of the van’s number plate and dial 999<br />
(you never know, if you’re in the right sort of<br />
postcode a policeman might even turn up<br />
in time).<br />
Aside from the obvious benefit to the rightful<br />
owner of not having his or her bike nicked (or<br />
at least having a better chance of seeing it<br />
recovered), you’re also likely to discover that the<br />
realisation that your simple actions have made<br />
the world a slightly better place, will do wonders<br />
to alleviate your own apprehensions about the<br />
dangers that the tabloids keep reminding you<br />
are lurking all around.<br />
Dave Gurman<br />
<strong>Digest</strong> This – February ‘07<br />
Last month’s article by Lois highlighted<br />
the fact that unscrupulous manufacturers<br />
are selling bike gear containing armour,<br />
which is supposedly CE approved, but is actually<br />
completely useless. In fact, as she pointed out,<br />
it’s worse than useless, because the hapless<br />
rider with the duff armour, will be imbued<br />
139
with a false sense of security, just waiting to be<br />
rudely shattered.<br />
Personally, given the physical dangers involved,<br />
I consider that kind of dishonesty to be a serious<br />
crime against the person, and believe that<br />
anyone found guilty of such an offence should be<br />
given a serious prison sentence. Unfortunately<br />
that’s unlikely to happen, because traditionally<br />
our society saves its greatest collective wrath for<br />
crimes of property.<br />
It’s sobering to think that you could chose<br />
7 random bikes, and “secure” them with just<br />
over £700 worth of chains, and a couple of<br />
enterprising thieves with a large van and a<br />
decent pair of bolt croppers, could have the<br />
whole lot away in a shade over 3 minutes – total!<br />
Take the seven bikes we’ve tested in the <strong>Digest</strong><br />
since issue 106 for example (and you could<br />
very quickly if they were secured with any of<br />
the seven chains we saw tested to destruction in<br />
Thamesmead), their total value is over £45,000!<br />
That’s around £15k per minute! It’s a shame<br />
we’re not a tabloid weekly, we could’ve splashed<br />
“Shock! Horror! Bike thieves on nearly a million<br />
pounds an hour!” across the front page.<br />
<strong>The</strong>re was a certain irony about choosing the<br />
Archway Project to conduct the tests, because<br />
its SE2 postcode would set alarm bells ringing at<br />
insurance call centres from Norwich to Mumbai,<br />
and result in endorsements demanding extra<br />
security measures, plus a substantial excess.<br />
We were there to watch Almax Security Chains<br />
demonstrate the competitions’ susceptibility<br />
to attack by bolt croppers (the favoured tool of<br />
those evil men in Transits).<br />
Some of you may remember Almax from our<br />
NEC ‘05 report in issue 99 when we said: “…<br />
(Almax) had been planning to name and<br />
shame all of the leading brands as pushovers,<br />
by… snipping through (them) in as little as<br />
10 seconds. Unfortunately the men in suits…<br />
descended… with officials from the NEC, who<br />
informed Almax that they had to cover the<br />
names on the other chains or they were out”.<br />
We were planning to do a follow up in 101, but<br />
for one reason or another it didn’t happen and<br />
we’ve been waiting for an opportunity ever<br />
since. Almax did extend their invitation to the<br />
rest of motorcycling media, but surprisingly,<br />
particularly given the seriousness of motorcycle<br />
theft, we were the only press who bothered to<br />
turn up.<br />
Fortunately Almax videoed the event, with the<br />
<strong>Digest</strong>’s original Boy Biker, Martin Newman cast<br />
in the role of independent witness. It was was<br />
put on YouTube HERE in mid November ‘06, and<br />
has been viewed over 20,000 times to date.*<br />
And what did all those viewers see? Exactly what<br />
we saw in Birmingham: Alex and his mate Zanx<br />
(“CaptainCropper”) chopping through chains<br />
priced between £75 and £159.95 in as little as<br />
14 seconds!<br />
So how should one go about buying a security<br />
chain? Is price any guide? Not on the evidence<br />
we witnessed. <strong>The</strong> Datatool Python, at a gnats<br />
under a hundred and sixty quid, lasted a mere<br />
33sec, while the Squire MC4 which was among<br />
the cheapest at £79.95 lasted longest at 63sec.<br />
Perhaps the sensible thing would be to buy the<br />
biggest selling chain in the country – the Oxford<br />
Monster – at £98.95. But alas, it would appear that<br />
popularity has more to do advertising budgets<br />
than effectiveness, because the peoples’ choice<br />
actually popped in the shortest time.<br />
No problem, potential bike donors just have to<br />
look out for chains that carry the right seals of<br />
approval. Wrong again. <strong>The</strong> best selling chain<br />
(the 14sec job) carries both Thatcham and Sold<br />
Secure Gold approval, and all the rest have one<br />
or other.<br />
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<strong>The</strong> <strong>Digest</strong> sent copies of the DVD to both<br />
organisations in plenty of time for Xmas; and<br />
in the New Year phoned to ask what they<br />
thought about it. Not a great deal, seemed to be<br />
the answer.<br />
Mike Briggs, Thatcham’s Head of Vehicle<br />
Security replied with: “All chain locks (sic)<br />
are tested to a minimum standard set by the<br />
Thatcham’s Vehicle Security department. If<br />
we were to set a maximum standard then no<br />
chains would meet this criteria that could be<br />
reasonably carried by a motorcyclist. We are<br />
aware that certain chains could be broken with<br />
the right perseverance, tools and techniques,<br />
however in setting a minimum standard we<br />
believe that our tests do provide motorcyclists<br />
with a guide to the best performing chains.”<br />
Steve Launchbury, who’s a Security Engineer at<br />
Thatcham, replied to an email from a Visordown.<br />
com member with the following: “Thatcham<br />
evaluate security products to a given criteria in<br />
order to set minimum standards for the British<br />
Insurance requirements. Should Thatcham<br />
introduce a maximum standard there would<br />
be very little affordable product available to<br />
the motorcycle fraternity.”<br />
So, if they only certified chains that can actually<br />
stand up to an attack with bolt croppers,<br />
motorcyclists wouldn’t be able to afford them,<br />
even if they could lift them.<br />
Stephan George was a nice chap. He’s new at<br />
Sold Secure but he assured me that in order to<br />
be awarded a Sold Secure Gold classification, a<br />
chain would need to meet their exacting test<br />
spec. I asked what the specification was for<br />
resistance to bolt cropping, but he was unable<br />
to provide me with that information (but that<br />
could be a marketing ploy, because their 11<br />
page “SS101 – Specification for Mechanical<br />
Motorcycle Security Systems” costs £20). After<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
I’d read the spec, I called Stephan back and<br />
informed him that 3.10 Bolt Croppers stated:<br />
“<strong>The</strong> product shall resist attack (for 5 minutes)<br />
using manually operated bolt croppers with an<br />
arm length of up to 1.070m.” which was precisely<br />
the tool Almax used to destroy a Gold certified<br />
chain in less than a quarter of a minute. Was<br />
he really suggesting that Alex was 20 times<br />
stronger than the person who tries to chop<br />
chains for them?<br />
Why haven’t Thatcham and Sold Secure invested<br />
in calibrated rigs and machinery, which would<br />
accurately, consistently and precisely, grade the<br />
resistance of various security products against<br />
the most common forms of physical attacks?<br />
That would at least allow the buying public to<br />
make meaningful comparisons when they are<br />
considering what they require and how much<br />
is a reasonable amount to pay for it.<br />
<strong>The</strong>n again, perhaps there isn’t quite as much<br />
money in the security certification business<br />
as the charges would suggest and they can’t<br />
afford fancy kit. In that case they should take a<br />
hint from the parking authorities, and pay their<br />
employees a meagre basic wage, to make them<br />
deliver results to earn enough to live on. <strong>The</strong>n<br />
they might reproduce some approximation of<br />
the kind of incentives the men in Transits have,<br />
and guarantee that they’d go about their work<br />
with something resembling vigour.<br />
Both Thatcham and SS made a big point of the<br />
fact that Almax chains are very heavy, which<br />
they undoubtedly are; but then again, so is that<br />
sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when<br />
you come out the house in the morning and<br />
discover fragments of cropped chain where your<br />
pride and joy should be. Besides weight is one of<br />
the few factors potential shoppers can actually<br />
assess for themselves.<br />
*Over 356,000 as of November 2012<br />
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<strong>The</strong> Magic Roundabout<br />
I<br />
have never really given much thought to<br />
roundabouts, they are such a common<br />
feature of our motoring experience in the<br />
UK that I hardly even notice them. However, a<br />
couple of near-misses in the last few months<br />
have made me to look at them with new interest.<br />
<strong>The</strong> first occurred whilst I was riding round a<br />
roundabout on a wet, grey day when a classic<br />
‘white van’ driver approaching from my left<br />
drove straight in front of me causing me to take<br />
fairly drastic avoiding action. It wasn’t that he<br />
couldn’t see me because he and his passenger<br />
laughed and gesticulated at my struggle to<br />
keep the bike upright; it was a deliberate act.<br />
<strong>The</strong> next incident was nearly identical except<br />
that this time I was driving my Land Rover when<br />
a biker did the same thing. I realised he wasn’t<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
intending stop and in any case wouldn’t have<br />
been able to without crashing into me, so I stood<br />
on my brakes to save him and he shot through.<br />
Passengers, dogs and various items tumbled<br />
through the car like we were in a washing<br />
machine. I beeped my horn in irritation and he<br />
gave me two fingers, and disappeared. Both of<br />
these individuals had broken the Golden Rule<br />
of roundabouts but in order to understand<br />
what this is one has to look at the history and<br />
evolution of these curious features in our roads.<br />
Excluding architectural structures such as the<br />
Circus in Bath (which acts like a roundabout<br />
but was never intended to manage traffic),<br />
the earliest ‘gyratory intersection’ appears to<br />
have been created in 1903 by the French at<br />
Place de l’Etoile, Paris (now called Place Charles<br />
143
de Gaulle). With the Arc de Triomphe in the<br />
middle there are no less than twelve big city<br />
roads pouring traffic into the same small space.<br />
It probably seemed a good idea at the time as<br />
most of the traffic was horse-drawn but these<br />
days it’s one of the easiest places in the world to<br />
commit suicide on a bike – just turn up.<br />
144<br />
Two years later Columbus Circle in New York was<br />
opened, designed by local businessman and<br />
road safety pioneer William Phelps Eno (1858-<br />
1945). Again, it was mostly horse-drawn chaos<br />
that had inspired him in 1900 to write Reform<br />
in Our Street Traffic Urgently Needed, followed in<br />
1903 by the New York City traffic code and later<br />
on the traffic plans for London and Paris. Eno is<br />
also credited with the invention of the stop sign,<br />
the one-way street, the pedestrian crossing, taxi<br />
stands and the pedestrian safety island. Crucially<br />
though, he never learned to drive and this may<br />
have contributed to the fundamental flaw in the<br />
early development of the roundabout.<br />
Many more ‘circles’ (also known as ‘rotaries’ or<br />
‘gyratories’) were built in the US and Canada in<br />
the early 20 th century but they were a disaster.<br />
<strong>The</strong>ir large size tended to encourage motorists<br />
to merge and weave about at high speeds,<br />
but much worse was that priority was given<br />
to vehicles entering the circle. Havoc ensued<br />
with incoming vehicles T-boning cars already<br />
circulating and those wishing to avoid this fate<br />
WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK<br />
often caused massive rear-end shunts as they<br />
slammed their brakes on. As cars got faster and<br />
heavier the crashes got worse, and injuries and<br />
deaths mounted to the point<br />
where the idea was abandoned<br />
in the US. Elsewhere in the<br />
world it was discovered that<br />
‘gyratories’ simply gridlocked<br />
in heavy traffic until police had<br />
to be permanently on hand<br />
to direct and control the flow<br />
of cars.<br />
It seems scarcely credible today that such a<br />
fundamental error could have been made or<br />
that it took so long, and such carnage to come<br />
up with the solution. Nevertheless, in the 1960s<br />
a team of engineers led by Frank Blackmore<br />
OBE, DFC (1916-2008) at Britain’s Transport<br />
Research Laboratory worked out that by giving<br />
priority to vehicles already on the roundabout<br />
(the term had been adopted in 1926 to replace<br />
‘gyratory’) would unlock their magic potential.<br />
It probably helped that Frank could drive and,<br />
as his DFC shows, he was also a wartime pilot<br />
of considerable skill and bravery. Frank and<br />
the team would later go on to invent the miniroundabout,<br />
as well.<br />
<strong>The</strong> trick was that cars already on the<br />
roundabout could now leave it unhindered by<br />
those trying to enter it. This had the effect of<br />
freeing things up, the traffic flowed like water<br />
in a centrifugal pump and the exiting vehicles<br />
quickly created gaps for those entering. <strong>The</strong><br />
system was refined by shaping Mr Eno’s little<br />
traffic islands into ‘splitters’ to direct vehicles<br />
into the flow at an angle so that any collisions<br />
tended to be of the glancing kind rather than<br />
harsher side or head-on impacts. It was also<br />
realised that drivers should not be able to see<br />
across the roundabout otherwise there might<br />
be an outbreak of politeness whilst they all<br />
waited for each other to enter when arriving<br />
simultaneously at different entrances. That’s<br />
why the centres of so many roundabouts are<br />
mounded up or have trees, flowers or ‘works of<br />
art’ on them. By 1966 the new rules were made<br />
mandatory in the UK and the rest, as they say,<br />
‘is history’.<br />
<strong>The</strong> critical thing is that the traffic keeps moving<br />
and waiting times for entering a roundabout<br />
should therefore be short. <strong>The</strong>y work on a<br />
principle known as Gap Acceptance <strong>The</strong>ory,<br />
which is science-speak for what we all do<br />
instinctively when trying to merge with a stream<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012 145
of traffic. Essentially we have to judge whether<br />
the gap we are seeing is safe to move into or<br />
not. Clearly this varies not only from driver to<br />
driver but also within ourselves depending on<br />
the traffic and how much of a hurry we are in.<br />
Size also matters as the smaller the roundabout<br />
the more the traffic has to slow down to use it.<br />
<strong>The</strong> benefit of this seems counterintuitive but<br />
fast moving traffic on a roundabout creates<br />
fewer ‘acceptable gaps’. With cars approaching at<br />
20mph a 20m gap will seem acceptable to most<br />
people but at 50mph the same gap suddenly<br />
seems a bit dicey to attempt. This makes us wait<br />
longer to enter and queues begin to form, which<br />
is why ‘modern’ roundabouts are generally less<br />
than 75m across.<br />
All the same, finding an average ‘acceptable<br />
gap’ allows the boffins to estimate the traffic<br />
handling capacity of a roundabout before it is<br />
built. ‘<strong>The</strong>oretically’ a single-lane roundabout<br />
can handle 20,000 to 26,000 vehicle movements<br />
a day whilst a two-lane version can handle (wait<br />
for it…) about twice that amount! Recent studies<br />
from the US (where roundabouts are making a<br />
comeback albeit in the face of understandable<br />
popular reluctance) show an average 89%<br />
reduction in vehicle delays and a 56% reduction<br />
in vehicle stops. On top of that, injury collisions<br />
are down by 80% and all types of collision down<br />
by 40%, compared with other forms of traffic<br />
regulation such as lights and signed junctions.<br />
This is partly because people tend to race for<br />
a green light or brake suddenly for a red one.<br />
And because modern roundabouts improve<br />
traffic flow, they also reduce emissions and<br />
fuel consumption by up to 30%. A study of ten<br />
converted intersections in Virginia purportedly<br />
showed savings of more than 200,000 (US)<br />
gallons of fuel in a year. Clearly roundabouts<br />
are a wonderful thing!<br />
However… astute <strong>Digest</strong> readers will realise that<br />
all this scholarly teleological interpretation of<br />
stochastic phenomena is apt to be complete<br />
bollocks in real life. To prove the point, here’s<br />
a quote about the Hanger Lane gyratory in<br />
London from - don’t laugh - the Society for<br />
All British and Irish Road Enthusiasts (SABRE):<br />
“<strong>The</strong>re are few other roundabout systems in the<br />
UK that have a similar number of lanes combined<br />
with high traffic volumes, and none that combine<br />
both those factors with the uniquely aggressive<br />
and selfish driving style of the typical West London<br />
motorist.” Well that told you lot, then! Seriously<br />
though, if a roundabout becomes too big and<br />
complicated the idea fails miserably. Equally, in<br />
huge conurbations like London, Paris and New<br />
York there is often so much traffic that even a<br />
well-designed roundabout will choke up.<br />
At this point the traffic dynamic changes as<br />
the gaps not only become ‘unacceptable’ but<br />
disappear completely. Motorists then start to<br />
indulge in what experts call ‘nosing’, ‘gap forcing’<br />
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147
and ‘priority reversal’. In layman’s terms drivers<br />
abandon any notion of priority and start to<br />
create their own gaps (by pushing in), but as<br />
this all happens at a crawl nobody gets hurt,<br />
even if the language and gestures can get a little<br />
‘fruity’. And this is where our two miscreants<br />
mentioned above come back into the picture.<br />
<strong>The</strong>y both indulged in ‘priority reversal’ and ‘gap<br />
forcing’ but the difference was that the traffic<br />
was flowing freely, as it should. Abandoning the<br />
Golden Rule in a snarl-up is forgivable but not in<br />
‘open play’ where priority counts for more than<br />
just fairness; it’s a matter of safety, too – and in<br />
the case of the biker it was his safety, not mine.<br />
Yet our current UK Highway Code is infuriatingly<br />
opaque about the Golden Rule. In rule 185 it<br />
states that, when reaching a roundabout, you<br />
should “give priority to traffic approaching from<br />
your right, unless directed otherwise by signs, road<br />
markings or traffic lights” and then to “watch out<br />
for all other road users already on the roundabout<br />
…” I seem to remember previous editions were<br />
clearer on this and stated that ‘priority’ should be<br />
given to road users already on the roundabout.<br />
Rule 184 is just as woolly, stating that you should<br />
“adjust your speed and position to fit in with traffic<br />
conditions” and then “be aware of the speed and<br />
position of all the road users around you…”<br />
It’s all there if you can unpick the circumlocutions<br />
but this lack of clarity has created a new problem;<br />
most people are now convinced they only have<br />
to look right when entering a roundabout and<br />
that anyone to their left is automatically ‘in the<br />
wrong’. Despite motorists being constrained at<br />
all times to drive with ‘due care and attention’,<br />
an increasing number are now accelerating<br />
dangerously from a position off the roundabout<br />
in order to ‘enforce’ what they see as ‘their<br />
priority’ over a vehicle approaching from the<br />
left (‘roundabout charging’), and they get all<br />
chopsy and cross if they find their way blocked.<br />
However, if the wheels of the vehicle coming<br />
from the left have crossed the broken white line<br />
onto the roundabout first then they are deemed<br />
‘already on the roundabout’ and therefore<br />
have priority.<br />
But… (there’s always a but), it is quite legitimate<br />
to pull on to a roundabout in front of a vehicle<br />
that is already on it if it is far enough away not<br />
to impede its progress (this is commonplace on<br />
big motorway and trunk road roundabouts).<br />
<strong>The</strong> grey area is what is defined by ‘far enough<br />
away’ and this is where Gap Acceptance applies<br />
to the approaching driver as well as to the one<br />
about to enter. I’m a big fan of ‘getting on with<br />
it’ at roundabouts or ‘making progress’, as it’s<br />
often called, however, the problem for bikers<br />
is especially acute because roundabouts tend<br />
to highlight their dynamic superiority as well<br />
as the vulnerability of their riders. Being able<br />
to accelerate rapidly into very small spaces<br />
redefines the concept of ‘an acceptable gap’ for<br />
most other road users and I fully understand<br />
that what’s ‘acceptable’ to some is ‘violating my<br />
priority’ to others. For me, though, the acid test<br />
is whether or not you cause the approaching<br />
motorist to take avoiding action. If you do<br />
then you have broken the Golden Rule of<br />
roundabouts.<br />
As for the two ne’er-do-wells whose actions<br />
prompted me to write this article, what they<br />
did went way beyond a simple misjudgment<br />
or failure to understand basic priorities. <strong>The</strong>y<br />
violated not just the Golden Rule but a much<br />
higher principle that the vast majority of people<br />
would uphold through a sense of common<br />
decency alone. This principle was introduced to<br />
me many years ago by a road safety professional<br />
at a conference on driver training. He said he<br />
thought driving and riding were not just a<br />
practical skill but a social skill as well, and that<br />
if this was emphasized more in training there<br />
would be fewer problems on the roads.<br />
<strong>The</strong> road system pulls us into contact with<br />
all kinds of people at an accelerated rate.<br />
Wherever roads meet, a potential area of<br />
human conflict is created which then needs to<br />
be carefully managed. One solution is traffic<br />
lights, which are rigid, rules-based dictators.<br />
<strong>The</strong>y issue imperative commands and grant or<br />
deny progress absolutely; they are simple to<br />
understand and their instructions are designed<br />
to allow no form of interpretation other than to<br />
stop or go. Traffic lights are safe for use by people<br />
with very low levels of intelligence, imagination<br />
and empathy, and very few will disobey one<br />
148 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
149
once they have stopped. However, they are<br />
also frustratingly slow and often hold up the<br />
flow traffic unnecessarily. And anyway, ordinary<br />
mature people don’t like to be told what to do,<br />
mostly because they do not need to be. Traffic<br />
lights are blind, officious and authoritarian; they<br />
remind us of a time when our elders’ wishes had<br />
to be obeyed without question.<br />
Roundabouts are different, they liberate us from<br />
mere obedience and allow us to make rational,<br />
grown-up decisions for ourselves. <strong>The</strong>y are a<br />
free-flowing, living thing that draws people<br />
into a whirlpool of armour-clad humanity, all<br />
equal and rushing about our daily lives. Safely<br />
negotiating a roundabout requires awareness,<br />
courtesy and an ability to cope with the<br />
unknown. <strong>The</strong>y require finely developed social<br />
skills in a way that traffic lights and stop signs<br />
don’t. In return for a few simple observances<br />
they provide us with the most efficient and painfree<br />
method of getting about on wheels without<br />
unduly imposing ourselves on one another.<br />
<strong>The</strong> vast majority of us are fine with this, we get<br />
along happily making allowances for the vagaries<br />
of life and other people’s occasional mistakes.<br />
When we mess it up we tend to apologise and<br />
wave each other on in a spontaneous upwelling<br />
of embarrassed Britishness. Roundabouts reflect<br />
a more enlightened way of living; that is until<br />
you-know-who turns up thinking they’re more<br />
important than everyone else and that the<br />
social norms (let alone the rules) don’t apply to<br />
them. <strong>The</strong>se people are the ‘untouchables’, the<br />
sociopaths who ruin everything, who will risk<br />
your life as well as theirs to achieve their own<br />
selfish ends. Like me, I suspect you know them<br />
when you see them.<br />
Be careful out there<br />
my friends!<br />
Oldlongdog<br />
150 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
151
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154 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
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BOOK REVIEW<br />
of sorts...<br />
Of Bikers and Baiku<br />
by Jonathan Boorstein<br />
Boy on a motorcycle<br />
Riding where the road leads<br />
Comes to a fork<br />
That banal bit of verse is known as baiku,<br />
or motorcycle haiku. Baiku is but one<br />
example of the growing sub-genre of<br />
motorcycle poetry. For better or for worse, baiku<br />
has even generated a web site dedicated to such<br />
examples: http://motorcycleviews.com/haiku/<br />
motorcyclehaiku.htm<br />
What, you ask, is motorcycle poetry? Does it<br />
really exist? Is it any good?<br />
It came to the attention of <strong>The</strong> Rider’s <strong>Digest</strong><br />
thanks to an over-active press agent. <strong>The</strong> agent<br />
touted Ryan J-W Smith, who, in addition to<br />
being both a motorcyclist and a writer/director,<br />
has produced 500 Shakespearean Sonnets:<br />
the diary of a poetic quest for truth. (Shakespeare<br />
himself wrote a mere 154. Or as another poet,<br />
Robert Browning, said in Andrea del Sarto: “Ah,<br />
but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, Or<br />
what’s a heaven for?”) Smith has continued the<br />
project by blogging sonnets in his Sonnet Blog.<br />
At least two involve motorcycling. One, Sonnet<br />
626, is an ode to his Honda:<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
<strong>The</strong> bliss of my contentment I shall write,<br />
For she is joy and wonder, through and through;<br />
Not only is she moving to my sight,<br />
Her energy, my speed-head doth subdue.<br />
Acceleration like a bullet shot:<br />
I slip a little backwards as she pulls;<br />
As I hold on, I know that I could not<br />
Be ever from her side – we’re raging bulls!<br />
Together, my machine and I, are one;<br />
She teaches, and I listen as she sings;<br />
Her notes are honey-coated loving fun:<br />
I cannot here express the thrill she brings,<br />
I seek excuses to go near and far:<br />
I love my ninety-nine – my VFR.<br />
In terms of rhyme, meter, and volta (the last<br />
two lines or couplet) it is as advertised, a<br />
Shakespearean sonnet. However, it is hardly<br />
Shakespearean in the popular sense of the<br />
word. It’s light verse. <strong>The</strong> volta is more a punch<br />
line than a summation; leaving more a sense<br />
of a smile than of the sublime. It even lacks<br />
the shallow existentialism of the opening<br />
haiku. But the sonnet works on its own terms.<br />
157
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<strong>The</strong> typical motorcyclist will relate to what<br />
Ryan Smith writes.<br />
Of course, great poets also produce their<br />
fair share of light verse. Some even produce<br />
motorcycle poetry. American Poet Laureate<br />
James Dickey, best known for his novel,<br />
Deliverance, writes in Cherrylog Road:<br />
And I to my motorcycle<br />
Parked like the soul of the junkyard<br />
Restored, a bicycle fleshed<br />
With power, and tore off<br />
Up Highway 106, continually<br />
Drunk on the wind in my mouth,<br />
Wringing the handlebar for speed,<br />
Wild to be wreckage forever.<br />
I’m not an expert in Dickey’s poetry, but<br />
motorcycles and motorcycling seem to recur<br />
as both theme and motif. May Day sermon to<br />
the women of Filmer County by a lady preacher<br />
leaving the Baptist Church includes such<br />
passages as:<br />
Gnats in the air they boil recombine go mad with striving<br />
To form the face of her lover, as when he lay at Nickajack Creek<br />
With her by his motorcycle looming face trembling with exhaust<br />
Fumes humming insanely<br />
and<br />
she hears him creaking<br />
His saddle dead-engined she conjures one foot whole from the groundfog<br />
to climb him behind he stands up stomps catches roars<br />
Blasts the leaves from a blinding twig wheels they blaze up<br />
Together she breathing to match him her hands on his warm belly<br />
His hard blood renewing like a snake O now now as he twists<br />
His wrist, and takes off with their bodies:<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
159
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Diane Wakoski also plays with such themes<br />
and motifs. In Uneasy Rider she says:<br />
You are more beautiful than any Harley-Davidson<br />
She is the rain,<br />
Waits in it for you,<br />
Finds blood spotting her legs<br />
From the long ride.<br />
And Wakoski continues elsewhere in<br />
<strong>The</strong> Motorcycle Betrayal Poems:<br />
Just being so joyfully alive<br />
Just letting the blood takes it own course<br />
In intact vessels<br />
In veins…<br />
-the motorcyclist riding along the highway<br />
Independent<br />
Alone<br />
She dedicates the poem cycle to “all those<br />
men who betrayed me at one time or another,<br />
in hopes they will fall off their motorcycles<br />
and break their necks”, which suggests her<br />
relationships to motorcycles and motorcyclists<br />
is – how to put this politely? – complicated.<br />
A Real Motorcycle by Erin Moure includes:<br />
Like running the motorcycle full-tilt into the hay bales.<br />
What is the motorcycle doing in the poem<br />
A. said.<br />
It’s an image, E. said back.<br />
It’s a crash in the head, she said.<br />
It’s a real motorcycle.<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
And later Moure writes:<br />
Or the flat bottom of the former sea<br />
I grew up on,<br />
Running the motorcycle into the round<br />
bay bales.<br />
Hay grass poking the skin.<br />
<strong>The</strong> back wet.<br />
Tom Andrews, a winner of the Iowa Poetry<br />
Prize, serves up a different point of view in the<br />
creepily titled Hemophiliac’s Motorcycle:<br />
May the Lord Jesus Christ bless the hemophiliac’s<br />
motorcycle, the smell of knobby tires,<br />
Bel-Ray oil mixed with gasoline, new brake and<br />
clutch cables and handlebar grips,<br />
the whole bike smothered in WD40 (to prevent<br />
rust, and to make the bike shine),<br />
He goes on by saying:<br />
the bike flying sideways off a jump like a ramp,<br />
the rider leaning his whole body into a<br />
left-hand corner<br />
And continues some lines later with:<br />
a first moto holeshot and wire-to-wire win,<br />
a miraculously benign sideswipe early on in<br />
the second moto bending the handlebars and<br />
front brake lever before the possessed<br />
rocketing up through the pack.<br />
161
162 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK<br />
Of course, most motorcycle poetry is not at that<br />
level. It’s more in line with Smith, our sonneteer.<br />
It focuses on motorcycles, motorcycling,<br />
motorcycle clubs – outlaw and otherwise,<br />
road trips and road kill, urban bikers and urban<br />
legends. <strong>The</strong> tone is “folksy” and the point of<br />
view, working class, some examples taking the<br />
ugly resentful form of inverse snobbery.<br />
Bruce “Bulldog” Dowling’s Roadhouse Blues<br />
takes a typical biker moment – too long in the<br />
saddle – in a traditional rhyme and meter.<br />
It looms in the distance, it calls you so clear,<br />
It speaks to you softly so no one can hear,<br />
On the side it stands, jealous, of the roads strong allure,<br />
It offers you solace, redemption, a cure<br />
For all that is ailing, each chronic attack,<br />
<strong>The</strong> cramp in your foot, the pain in your back.<br />
That old hardtail’s making it easy to choose,<br />
<strong>The</strong> song of the sirens, those old Roadhouse Blues.<br />
Larger and brighter, its lights draw you hard,<br />
Your fatigue it is winning, you play your trump card.<br />
<strong>The</strong> brakes are your tonic, the balm that you crave,<br />
As they aid your escape: your reprieve from the grave.<br />
In minutes the barstool your confession will hear,<br />
Your act of contrition, an annointment of beer,<br />
That pours from the tap of your own private brew,<br />
That lullabye liquid, those old Roadhouse Blues.<br />
While not a true Blues, we all know what the<br />
narrator is talking about and relate to that<br />
“predicament”. How the narrator got home<br />
ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
(or didn’t) after the glass or two may well be<br />
inspiration for a more traditional Blues.<br />
In Unlike Rider, Barthibbard takes a look at<br />
the choice between riding and mousing with<br />
similar good humor.<br />
Mousing through the cheerful haze,<br />
or pistons hot- revving phase.<br />
Wistful quests within the cloud,<br />
I suggest exhaust pipes loud….<br />
Unknown minds control your fate,<br />
Of Facebook I do hesitate!<br />
Liking you without those clicks-<br />
When gasoline with air doth mix.<br />
And Blaze makes light of a Night Run:<br />
there’s something in the air...that scent...<br />
you know the one - it drives you crazy -<br />
makes you crank that throttle hard<br />
too far too long...you pray no deer<br />
from there to here - - - and then<br />
you taste that thin eyed lost soul grin<br />
lean on in<br />
and laid out<br />
let her fly<br />
Rather like cowboy poetry, motorcycle<br />
poetry reflects a romanticized view of what is<br />
presented as an American lifestyle. <strong>The</strong>re are:<br />
the loneliness of the solo rider; the camaraderie<br />
of riding with friends or in a group; motorcycle<br />
163
maintenance; the freedom of the road;<br />
outlaw clubs; highway traffic and accidents;<br />
biker values and practices; and the obvious<br />
observations common to most bikers. Some<br />
are about moments and memories; others are<br />
tall tales and folk tales.<br />
While cowboy poetry has its fill of tales, it is<br />
longer, living tradition and its forms go back<br />
to when literacy was less common and the<br />
Western lifestyle was actually made up of ranch<br />
work and those who did it. Rhymes and meters<br />
were used to aid memory. <strong>The</strong> landscape of<br />
the North American west is as important as<br />
cowboy values and ironic observations about<br />
ways and means of modernity.<br />
Motorcycle poetry is more recent and grew<br />
out of the lifestyle of the post-World-War-II<br />
American biker clubs. Hunter S. Thompson<br />
both practiced and popularized the motorcycle<br />
poetry. As Shirley Dent observes in <strong>The</strong><br />
Guardian (16 November 2007) in a blog titled<br />
Motorcycles and the art of poetic utterance: “the<br />
motorbike and the poem are creatures akin.<br />
<strong>The</strong>y straddle physical and intellectual sense –<br />
even though you feel physics working through<br />
you when you are on a bike, being on a bike<br />
is not about succumbing to the physical or<br />
losing all sense. <strong>The</strong>re is precise science in the<br />
recklessness of both riding a bike and writing a<br />
poem”. And both she points out “take you out<br />
of yourself”.<br />
Smith’s sonnet fulfills much of that basic<br />
criteria, as do the pieces by the motorcycle<br />
poets themselves. Interestingly the criteria<br />
could be applied to motorcycle song lyrics as<br />
well. Leiber and Stoller’s mid-1950s hit Black<br />
Denim Trousers and Motorcycle Boots is certainly<br />
one example:<br />
<strong>The</strong>n he took off like the Devil and there was<br />
fire in his eyes!<br />
He said “I’ll go a thousand miles before the sun<br />
can rise.”<br />
But he hit a screamin’ diesel that was<br />
California-bound<br />
And when they cleared the wreckage,<br />
all they found<br />
Was his black denim trousers and motorcycle<br />
boots<br />
And a black leather jacket with an eagle on<br />
the back<br />
But they couldn’t find the ‘cicle that took off<br />
like a gun<br />
And they never found the terror of Highway<br />
One Oh One<br />
Bill “uglicoyote” Davis, one of the better<br />
motorcycle poets, and clearly influenced by<br />
such lyrics, wrote in Riding Through <strong>The</strong> Fire:<br />
So he went ridin’ through fire<br />
He rode through the smoke of Hell<br />
He just crossed the Jocko River<br />
He had to make it to Kalispell.<br />
She heard about it the next morning<br />
He’d run a road block, the announcer said<br />
On a closed highway he’d lost control<br />
In the flames they found him dead.<br />
She wondered why he made that run<br />
What caused him to take that ride?<br />
Her husband didn’t see the tear that fell<br />
With the name of the man who had died.<br />
He’s still ridin’ through that fire<br />
He’s still ridin’ through the smoke of Hell<br />
Around him all is burning<br />
And a woman weeps in Kalispell<br />
Davis’s poems appear both online and in<br />
print. In a post on <strong>The</strong> Hard Rider blog (http://<br />
hardrider.wordpress.com/2012/08/28/doyou-like-motorcycle-poetry/),<br />
he writes: “Do<br />
you even know it exists. <strong>The</strong>re are several Road<br />
Poets out and about. You can check in to my<br />
poetry blog, Songs of the Open Road to read<br />
some of my work. I’ve posted my most recent<br />
words below. You might also want to check<br />
out Road Scribes of America: A fellowship of<br />
the Road, the Wind, the Pen of which I am a<br />
member.”<br />
Motorcycle poetry sites go from the general<br />
– http://vtwinbiker.com/index.html --to the<br />
specific–http://www.viragoownersclub.<br />
org/fun/biker-poems. Some even provide<br />
guidelines to help the aspiring rider writer. <strong>The</strong><br />
motorcycle haiku site not only gives advice:<br />
“Haiku is a three line unrhymed verse with<br />
the first line containing 5 syllables, the second<br />
line containing 7 syllables and the last line<br />
containing 5 syllables. Sometimes the verse has<br />
a seasonal theme”; but also provides examples:<br />
Summer calls to me<br />
Come ride your motorcycle<br />
Live without your cage<br />
Parenthetically, haiku usually (not “sometimes”)<br />
has a seasonal theme or reference (to be<br />
precise) as well as a pivot upon which the first<br />
half of the haiku turns to the second. While<br />
haiku written in English does have to have three<br />
lines, it is not restricted to 17 syllables arranged<br />
5-7-5. It would be perfectly acceptable to write:<br />
Baja<br />
Dia de los Muertos<br />
Jolly Roger on the gas tank<br />
in which Dia de los Muertos is both the pivot<br />
and the seasonal reference.<br />
164 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
165
Printed anthologies while still uncommon are<br />
available. “Little did I know that well over thirty<br />
five years ago when I scribed my first motorcycle<br />
poem, I would be here today a part of the<br />
Bikerpoetry movement and asked to write the<br />
afterword for Verse And Steel. I can remember<br />
back in the day when Bikerpoets were lucky if<br />
they received one or two hard copy publishings<br />
a year and now with the support of monthly<br />
motorcycle magazines and newspapers, as<br />
well as the many internet resources available,<br />
opportunities abound for the arts and artists<br />
of the biker lifestyle,” writes Sorez the scribe in<br />
Verse And Steel. “Way back when, I had no idea<br />
that there were other like minded individuals<br />
out the riding and writing their way down the<br />
road and into literary history.”<br />
Nor is that the only volume. Yoga and the Art<br />
of Motorcycle Poetry was sold in City Lights<br />
Bookstore, owned and operated by the great<br />
beat poet, Lawrence Ferlinghetti. While not an<br />
actual endorsement, the shop is known to be<br />
fussy about the titles it stocks.<br />
<strong>The</strong> biker poetry community also includes Martin<br />
Jack Rosenblum, a former official historian for<br />
<strong>The</strong> Harley-Davidson Motor Company, and<br />
QBall, a frequent contributor to the Vtwinbiker<br />
site. And to be fair probably most riders who<br />
want to writers have tried their hands at one<br />
form of verse or another. Self-disclosure: I snuck<br />
two of my haiku into this piece.<br />
Perhaps inevitably the term “motorcycle poet” is<br />
reserved for those who write lyrics or light verse<br />
almost exclusively about the riding life. If the<br />
work is serious, then it is by a poet who happens<br />
to write about motorcycle, among many other<br />
things (or the motorcycle is a metaphor for many<br />
other things). One can’t quite imagine Dickey<br />
calling himself a motorcycle poet despite his<br />
careful cultivation of a macho, bad-boy image.<br />
Others are more open to the fun of having it both<br />
ways, of blurring the identities of motorcycle<br />
poet and poet who writes about motorcycles.<br />
Frederick Seidel is quite blunt that he writes<br />
prose and poetry about motorcycles, along his<br />
suggestively named book of verse, Going Fast,<br />
certainly covers more than just motorcycles<br />
(Poem does, for example). Dent seems fond<br />
of his line “I am the Ducati of desire/144.1<br />
horsepower at the rear wheel”. Ducatisto Seidel<br />
may be, he nevertheless ended an op-ed piece,<br />
Is the Era of the Motorcycle Over?, he wrote for<br />
<strong>The</strong> New York Times with the crypto volta:<br />
Better to be out in the air astride<br />
Just about any motorcycle alive!<br />
But perhaps the last word should be left to<br />
Davis, as a sort of coda if not volta. As a “real”<br />
motorcycle poet, he not only revels in that<br />
identity, but also wrote:<br />
Can you tell truth about the joy<br />
that sometimes rises deep inside<br />
or about the hard and tough times<br />
that you’ve had along your ride.<br />
Road Poet, tell the whole truth,<br />
don’t hold back, spill your gut.<br />
As you ride your roads and write your odes,<br />
tell the truth and nothing but.<br />
166 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
167
Bitz Bitz<br />
Samsung B2710<br />
review - <strong>The</strong> Survivor<br />
Having spent a lot of time<br />
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about claims for everyday<br />
items being waterproof. None<br />
of the ‘dry-suits’ I’ve ever<br />
owned would have borne<br />
much scrutiny under the<br />
Trades Description Act 1968<br />
and just about every diver’s<br />
torch I’ve had has filled up with<br />
water at some stage.<br />
So when I was offered a<br />
‘waterproof’ and ‘shockproof’<br />
phone by my service provider<br />
I wasn’t expecting much but<br />
thought it would be a good<br />
idea given the amount of time<br />
I spend out in the weather on<br />
bikes and boats and generally<br />
messing about outdoors. I’m<br />
also mindful of that renowned<br />
killer of mobile phones - the<br />
toilet (you know the scene,<br />
phone in top pocket, bend<br />
over to put the seat down and<br />
ploosh - in it drops)!<br />
So the little red Samsung<br />
B2100 duly arrived and what<br />
an unassuming little thing<br />
it was. It had a camera and<br />
various other functions of no<br />
interest to me but it had good<br />
reception and battery life. Even<br />
though I’m sure it was regularly<br />
exposed to water I don’t<br />
remember any one incident<br />
testing it beyond being<br />
shower-proof. After two years<br />
the generous people at the<br />
place where the future’s bright<br />
offered me a free upgrade to<br />
the latest Samsung B2710,<br />
which was similarly discreet<br />
looking although a little bigger<br />
and blacker. <strong>The</strong> blurb claims<br />
IP6.7 and US Military Standard<br />
for being filth and muck proof<br />
and that it can stay submerged<br />
for 30 minutes.<br />
<strong>The</strong> first thing I noticed<br />
was that they’d changed<br />
the texting menu such that<br />
‘select’ and ‘send’ seemed to<br />
have a mind of their own, so<br />
I was constantly sending half<br />
finished texts by mistake. This<br />
led to me throwing the damn<br />
thing in anger at our front<br />
hedge, fully expecting it to<br />
bounce off the dense leylandii.<br />
Instead it shot through and<br />
hit the stone wall behind.<br />
Fortunately none of three parts<br />
I found it in was actually broken<br />
and it snapped back together<br />
again with no harm apparently<br />
done.<br />
Sometime later I was<br />
descaling part of my boiler<br />
with some ‘weapons grade’<br />
acid and splashed some of it on<br />
my trousers. As I was standing<br />
near the hose I instantly<br />
drenched my trousers with<br />
water for about five minutes<br />
and then left them immersed<br />
in a bucket for an hour. Next<br />
they went into the washing<br />
machine for a full cycle and it<br />
was only half an hour into their<br />
time in the tumble drier that<br />
I heard an ominous clonking.<br />
Yup, I’d forgotten my phone<br />
was in my pocket… Once<br />
again it came through with<br />
flying colours and now it<br />
was squeaky clean and<br />
smelled lovely!<br />
Last week, though, I<br />
managed to lose the Samsung<br />
into a raging torrent of<br />
floodwater. It was whipped<br />
away on the current into a<br />
field about a foot deep in fastflowing<br />
muddy water. I tried<br />
in vain to drag it up with a<br />
fishing net and a friend rang it<br />
to see if it would light up but<br />
it had switched to answerphone.<br />
Finally the B2710 had<br />
succumbed to terminal abuse<br />
at my hands. I rang Orange to<br />
arranged for a new one to be<br />
sent, which rather obligingly<br />
they have albeit Samsung’s<br />
latest version the C3350<br />
Xcover 2.<br />
<strong>The</strong> following day the<br />
floodwaters had subsided<br />
enough for me to search the<br />
field for the phone in the hope of<br />
being able to retrieve my contact<br />
list from the SIM. I wasn’t hopeful<br />
but 30m away from where I lost<br />
it I caught sight of a little corner<br />
of black plastic sticking out of the<br />
mud. I should have had more<br />
faith because despite spending<br />
a day submerged in fast flowing<br />
water the B2710 was still on<br />
and worked perfectly. It must<br />
have been the depth that had<br />
stopped it ringing rather than<br />
it drowning. What a survivor,<br />
I’m astonished.<br />
As I’ve signed a new<br />
contract for the upgrade I<br />
have decided to keep it and will<br />
report back on that when I’ve<br />
had a chance to abuse its bigger,<br />
shinier screen and even more<br />
‘enhanced’ facilities. I will keep<br />
the B2710 for a back-up. Unless<br />
you ‘absolutely must have’ a<br />
smartphone then I thoroughly<br />
recommend one of these for<br />
biking as you can stick them<br />
in your pocket and not worry<br />
if it rains, you fall off into a river<br />
whilst green-laning or are just a<br />
clumsy great lummocks like me.<br />
<strong>The</strong>y have excellent battery life<br />
and a huge range of features<br />
including internet and all<br />
manner of stuff only teenagers<br />
will understand or want, and you<br />
can find out about these from<br />
here: http://www.samsung.<br />
com/uk/consumer/mobiledevices/mobile-phones/bar/<br />
GT-B2710IKAXEU<br />
An iPhone is a lovely thing<br />
but I’ve seen too many with<br />
smashed screens. Equally there<br />
are other rufty-tufty phones<br />
on the market but they all look<br />
like kiddies’ toys. <strong>The</strong> thing I like<br />
best about the Samsung is that<br />
looks like an ordinary phone<br />
even though it is extraordinarily<br />
tough.<br />
168 WWW.THERIDERSDIGEST.CO.UK ISSUE <strong>173</strong> December 2012<br />
169
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