A Beautiful Day for an Autumn Ride

Finally! I went out for a ride today. I didn't do anything new or noteworthy but it felt like such a treat, which it was.

It's been a long time since I've ridden for sheer pleasure. It was mid August in fact. Since then I've been to work then come home. Once or twice I've gone a different way home but nothing substantial. Despite having been in almost daily use, my bike had been decidedly underused.

This morning, I made my way up the A59 as I do most Sundays but for once I missed my turning, quite on purpose, and carried on up Cote de Blubberhouses (formerly Blubberhouse pass). I'm pretty sure I had to stop my bike turning all by its self. We were free for the day and heading for the hills, all thanks to my parents doing my parenting for me. Thanks mum! Thanks dad!

Actually, the first 40 miles were foggy and hard work but after meeting my buddy Kev for breakfast in Settle we headed off on the well trodden 'Hawes loop.' Thankfully, as we climbed to higher ground we left the fog, leaf mulch and Sunday drivers behind. From there on the day just got better, a real treat in October.

Kev, a self confessed fair weather sports bike rider, doesn't usually ride outside the summer months and likes his tarmac wide, smooth and fast. Today however, he was on the look out for places to take his newest toy, some sort of fancy digital SLR camera. That meant he was willing to let me lead him up a few of the narrower roads he wouldn't usually thank me for. There was a lot of stopping but I didn't mind. It was a beautiful day to be up in the hills.

I've Started a Bucket List

Wonder Blessed are the Curious
for they Shall Have Adventure

Today I created a bucket list (here) for the first time ever. Actually, what I did today was write it down. It’s always existed. I’ve always wanted to experience more of the world in more ways.

Like most todo lists, I expect to add to it more often than I check things off but that’s the human condition. I also need to accept that much of it, quite possibly the majority of it, won’t ever happen. That’s fine. It can’t hurt to make a list. Perhaps I could make it a challenge to do one item a year. I could make one of them the thing I do to mark the next big birthday (40 I believe). Whatever. If nothing else, it’s actually a good a pencil portrait of myself as you could possibly hope for. A lot can be inferred from a bucket list I recon

This bucket list is a little restricted for two reasons. Firstly, it’s limited to Motorcycle related ambitions and secondly, it starts today. If I started adding all the things I’ve done that I wanted to do, that would make for far too long a list. Besides, while there were things I knew I wanted, like getting my licence, there were things I would never have thought to put on a list that happened anyway. No, this is simpler. 

Anyway, many thanks to Fuzzy for inspiring me write up my bucket list. Now, I’d better get on with my ‘Oh Dear, The New School Year is About to Start and That ToDo List is Only Getting Longer’ list. 

Ride Report - Forest of Bowland North Of Newton in Bowland

Because of the summer break and a recent foreign holiday, my bike had remained idle for much longer that I really like. Yesterday however, I received a last minute and much needed leave pass thanks to my mum taking the kids and Ang snoozing after a night shift. I had nothing planned but some of the best rides start that way. Chucking my map and tea making kit into the box, I headed off to @BeanandBud to look things over and enjoy one of their fine flat whites.

I was looking to explore somewhere new and there isn’t much I haven’t seen round here so I had to look further afield and accept there would be some unavoidable A road (highway) riding. Before my coffee was out I’d settled on an area called the Forest of Bowland, just across the border in Lancashire (spits on floor). I drained the dregs and hit the road.

I wasn’t disappointed. I suffered the A59 all the way to Clitheroe (actually not that bad) then I followed the B6478 to Newton-in-Bowland where I planned to head north towards a marked viewpoint. I was totally blown away by that stunning views on the section of road over Waddington Moor. In fact I was thinking it would be nice to ride it back again and get some pics. Time however was not on my side. Apparently, luck wasn’t on my side either as my route was soon blocked by bridge works. forcing me to retrace my steps. Still, I got those pictures.

The diversion (pretty obvious on the map) wasn’t anything worth writing about so I didn’t take my time. Once I was on the northbound road from Slaidburn, I was once again being blown away by the scenery. The heather was in bloom and being so close to the clouds gave the impression I was on top of the world. It made me think of a recent post on the FUZZYGALORE.COM blog, reflecting on the difficulties/impossibilities of sharing what you see from the saddle with others. So true but I still stopped every few meters to take yet another pic.

However, if you can, you really should go out and ride this. Maybe not if you’re only interested in knee down antics. In fact if I was going to do this again, I’d probably use the YBR125 and make a whole day of it. This is one to savour.

Filming Ride To Work Day - What I've Learned

A couple of weeks back we had Ride To Work here in the UK. In fact, this year, they made it a week. I decided to film my ride to work using a different mount each day. I wanted to take the 27 minutes and mix together the best 3. After three years of experimenting with my GoPro Hero2, I'm pretty happy with this finished product. 

However, as I write this, my film has had plenty of time and only seen 18 view. I bet youtube is full of that sort of thing. Some of it was posted by me on my Youtube channel and some just watched by me. The only ones I really like are short, multi perspective and carefully produced. The rest, I don't watch. Here's a list of the things I've learned (read: opinions I've developed):

1) Helmet cam is fine for collecting evidence but the film makes the viewer sick if the rider is any good at observations. When in doubt, hard mount.

2) Using a range of perspectives isn't good, it's vital. Even watching Ribble Head to Hawes in a single perspective would bore me to death. Easier if you own multiple cameras. I don't so...

3) Converting your GoPro to RAM mounts is super secure and versatile but the down side is RAM mounts they vibrate A LOT more.

4) The closer the camera is to the ground the better. Makes it faster. More exciting.

5) Try to get a bit of bike in there. I love frame mount perspectives that capture the movement of the suspension.

6) The best place to record sound is closer to the airbox, not the exhaust.

7) Bad aim makes the film unusable. Generally horizon should be 1/3 from the bottom. Strangely, left/right is less important.

8) Editing isn't optional. No matter how long you rode, good films last 3-4 minutes or if you have no usable sound, one good song. I find you spend roughly half an hour to an hour editing 1 minute of footage.

Like I say, these are my opinions. To be honest, I hadn't realized I had so many of them. The only other opinion I have is that I'm not very good at any of this, proven by the fact that that was probably my best effort to date. Here's what production looked like.

I used (mostly) the best mounts I have/know:

Day 1 - Mounted to the handlebars using ram mounts. It's a little shaky but this gave the best sound. 

Day 2 - Ram mounts on the grab rail rear facing. Pretty cool perspective and OK sound.

Day 3 - Helmet mount. This is an easy option but it makes you sick watching it and the sound is atrocious. Still, had to be done.

Day 4 - GoPro's own tube mount onto my crash bars. The sound is very mechanical but the perspective is thrilling.

Editing took forever and isn't even close to fluid but I did my best with the time I had during the week. I find the GoPro editing software buggy to the point of unusable so I did it all on an iPad 2 with iMovie. I've also used Windows Live Moviemaker fairly successfully. However, for reasons I really can't explain, I prefer using the I pad. Bahhhh!

I've no real wish to try any other editing software but I'm all up for finding new mounts. One day I'd like to try a chest harness as it looks to have a good view and less shaky but without the bobbing about a helmet mount does (if your making propper observations). Then again, what I'd really like is to mount my camera on someone else's bike, preferably someone who can keep up without getting dangerous. Currently, I don't know that person. I wonder if he/she is any good at editing?

Never Missed a Beat

I recently claimed that Angie's YBR125 'never misses a beat.' Well guess what: spoiler alert!

It missed it's first beat on a soaking wet, icy cold Monday. I thought little of it. Nearing work after a clear run, I gently rolled over the bridge and disengaged the clutch as I came to a halt. The motor stopped! It started right up again so I assumed it was me being a bit useless. Saying that, it was idling a little low, perhaps 1200. That was it though, until the end of the week.

The week dragged on and when the final bell rang on Friday, it felt a few days overdue. The ringing was somewhat drowned out by rain drumming on the skylights. Fed up and tired, what I want wanted to do was get on my bike and ride. What I didn't want was to get soaked through only to arrive home at the moment storm clouds gave way to bright blue sky. Thus daylight gave way to indecision.

By the time I left, there was virtually no light and still plenty of rain. The YBR125's single 35w/35w lamp is already useless in the face of oncoming traffic. The heavy cloud annihilated what little twilight remained and I was fighting a loosing battle to clear my visor. In such situations you're pretty much riding on a wing and a prayer when anything but a YBR125 comes the other way.

Not five minutes in and already soaked, I met a particularly well lit car coming mid road. Obviously I slowed right down and aimed for the darkness left of the blinding headlights. That's when the engine stopped. Instinctively I thumbed the starter but this time it didn't start right back up. “Oh great!” (possibly words to that effect)

After I pushing to a nearby driveway, it started up again so I rode off but with confidence in the bike utterly lost. Anyone who's been there knows how it affects your riding. Loosing confidence in your bike on a dark, blustery and wet night isn't quite a nightmare but it's super stressful. I soon found that the engine would cut out at speeds over 50 if on full throttle.

Anyone who rides a YBR will know that any slope means full throttle at speeds of over 50. Anyone who rides a YBR around these parts will know that we don't really have roads that aren't sloped one way or t'other. Only your wrist notices them on a big bike. Generally, there's way more thinking involved in getting a learner bike from Harrogate to Ilkley. Each gear change is anticipated well in advance so, ideally, timed to perfection. When you roll on to full and find the motor cuts, blood pressure rises just as fast as the oil pressure drops.

Thankfully I got it home. I've since washed it and can't find anything looking like the culprit. Stand back a bit while you're hosing it off and that bike looks fairly new. However, get in close with the sponge and a soapy paint brush, it starts looking long in the tooth for sure. The swinging arm and parts of the frame are rusting heavily along with the whole exhaust system. The whole rear end could do with pulling apart, stripping back to the bare metal and painting. I might do all that. I thought I might do that last summer. It really needs it now so I really might. Then again, I might not.

One thing's for sure, the bike I once trusted to the point of abuse can never again be described as having 'never missed a beat.' Now it needs some Alan time. He'll probably tell me off about one thing or another but I know we'll most likely get it back in a fit state to see the winter out. That way when spring starts getting serious I'll be able to ride it to work just like I could when I filmed this two years ago.

Motorcycle Adventure Media - Part 1 - Dirt Track Productions

My two weeks are nearly up. That’s to say, a while ago I made a personal commitment to post at least every two weeks. Two weeks have now passed without a post. I’m not going to claim a lack of time. It was inspiration that was lacking. All I’ve been up to is riding to and from work, sometimes on the Wee, sometimes on the YBR125. Once I got to work to early so I wandered up to the Cow and Calf Rocks and took a picture or two. That’s it though. My life has been more about skipping festivals and choir competitions that bike based adventure so I’ve gone elsewhere as usual. That’s today’s inspiration. I’m going to write briefly (in three or four parts) about where I get my fix.

First up are two films by the one man film unit, Gaurav Jani of Dirt Track Productions. If first discovered Riding Solo to the Top Of The World when browsing the Rufforth Autojumble. I must have been feeling rich because I paid £20 for a DVD, not something I do often. I’m glad I did. It’s fantastic. His trip to to one of the remotest places in the world, the Changthang Plateau in Ladakh, aboard an Enfield Bullet is so atmospheric that I find myself watching it over and over again, dipping in and out as I get on with work. Sometimes I wonder if I should separate the sound track with the steady thudding of the archaic bikes engine so I can listen to it when I’m struggling for sleep as it seems to chill me right out.

His films aren’t just about riding. They are also about the people and communities he encounters. Riding Solo is so good, I actually use it in geography lessons when we study contrasting localities. The children are always fascinated until they are shown how the Chang pas make their butter. At that point they are suitably ‘grossed out’. You’ll have to watch it to find out why. However, when offered the chance to watch the rest during wet play times, they usually sit quietly mesmerized. Here's the trailer.

In his second film, One Crazy Ride, Gaurav Jani travels with friends from his club searching for a route they are told no longer exists, still riding Enfield bullets. It’s very different because it’s about a group of people all of whom are riding bikes though challenging and beautiful landscapes on frankly unsuitable bikes. The Bullets are forever breaking down, seemingly more due to their archaic design than the awful or non existent roads. Though there is a bit about the communities they travel through, it’s much more about the ride.Here's the trailer.

If I absolutely had to choose which one to take with me to a desert island, it would be tough. I think I’d end up going for Riding Solo. In truth though, I’m ready for more, so ready I even paid another twenty quid towards the making of the next film, described as a sort of Part 2 to Riding Solo. Motorcycle Chang pa is in post production now but the forecast release date seems to keep slipping back. Hopefully it will be ready in 2013 some time. I can’t wait for the next one which says all that really needs to be said about the films of Gaurave Jani and Dirt Track Productions. I'd recommend these to anyone, motorcyclist or not, just as long as they are remotely interested in travel or the rest of the world. Here's the teaser for the much anticipated Motorcycle Chang pa.

And with that I’ve written enough. In part 2 I get my fix from another Blog. Maybe a couple of blogs.

Riding My Motorcycle in the Snow Part 3

In which I make it home, repair and reflect.

At the end of part two I had just been picked up. I missed an important bit out though. After I was dropped in Otley by a passing farmer and his wife, before I had breakfast, I had the presence of mind to call work and let them know I’d not be joining them that day. Then, I settled down to breakfast. Dunnie’s give you a lot of breakfast for just £2 or £3 but what you get is pretty dire. You get what you pay for and I couldn’t pay for breakfast in the kind of cafe that can brag about the butchers they use. For less than £3, you don’t feel sure what’s in the sausage never mind which high class family butcher it came from. For the first time in a very long time I found myself staring at bacon, sausage and egg unable to bring myself to eat it. Just for once, Dr Buckley would have approved of a lifestyle choice. And it was at just about that time that an email arrived making everything just a little less worthwhile.

Safely home and seemingly intact.

The email was to break a 25 year tradition. Our previous head, who had lead the school for a quarter of a century, didn’t drive. She never closed for snow and expected staff to get in if they could. Until then I had never failed either. Our new head, who I think comes under category c/d without the tyres (see this post), has a different mind. As the snow continued to fall, she closed the school, by email. My journey was now not only a failure but also unnecessary.

Spot the difference.

Good news soon followed. A man, tasked by the AA, called to let me know he was heading my way. I offered to get him a cup of tea if he picked me up on his way past and that was enough to get him to flout company policy. Another forty minutes and I was on my way back to the bike with a nice chap who had spent his morning jump starting cars or pulling them off drive ways. Mine was the first brake down as such. As usual, he was quick to tell me that he knew little or nothing about bikes. His car got down the hill to the bike with no problems even though the road was even worst now than it had been when I first came a cropper.

Within a minute of arriving at my stricken motorcycle I spotted the problem. I could have beaten myself senseless for not looking for it earlier. Back then I didn’t spot it because it was too dark. If I had looked for it though, I would have found it for sure. You see, I mentioned in my last post that the bike wouldn’t crank at all, just as though I had forgotten to pull the clutch in (required on a DL650). I didn’t mention that the bike fell on it’s left side. Nor had I mentioned that it was the clutch side of the handlebars I had to use to lift it. The problem was so obvious, I reckon many or most will now have guessed it. In broad daylight, the clutch interlock cable hanging below the clutch lever was plain to see. With it back in place, the bike started and ran instantly. The only remaining problem was the road, now totally impassable to anything without four wheel drive.

Alan's simple repair to the gear lever works great.

I’ve no idea how many of you will have ever been towed on a bike. It’s nothing like being towed in a car. Though perfectly possible, it's best done right, by two people who know what they are doing. Even then, it’s terrifying. The very nice man who came out to help me had never towed a bike and I had only ever done the towing. For both of us this was going to be a learning experience and neither of us would have chosen for that lesson to take place on snow.

We had to look the rope around the forks and back to the hitch leaving a little too short for comfort. As the rope took the strain and as my bike began to carry me but someone else in control, I’d never felt so uncomfortable. In seconds I was screaming, “Slow it down, I’m gonna have to paddle this thing.” The front wheel was dancing from side to side so I needed time to correct each shift. The driver obliged and we crawled to the top of the hill, my heart trying to beat its way though my sore rib cage, probably in a bid to find a more sensible owner. Several times I was sure I was going down. Thankfully, that didn’t happen.

Alan's new pinion bolt
cover looks like
Suzuki put it there.

The main road, when we reached it, was far better. We could say our fair-wells and sign paperwork. Finally, about seven hours after I left, I was in a position to make my way home. He could get back to dragging people off their drives and I could start a very slow ride home, not the way I came though. The longer way. The one with fewer steep bits and more traffic. The way I should have come in the first place. My destination, G. W. Johnson’s Motorcycles in Harrogate, home of Alan Johnson.

Alan wasn’t busy. My snow caked Vstrom, it’s indicators hanging off, handlebar ends at a jaunty angle and gear change leaver partially absent went straight in. He went to work immediate, rummaging though a box of assorted indicators for bikes long since scrapped for one he could bodge on. The lighting repaired, he went to work drilling a hole through the remains of the gear change pedal, sticking a bolt through and covering it with the rubber part of a kick starter. The resulting repair so good I’ve forgotten it’s there. The bar end bolt was straightened and a new cover for the Swingarm Pinion was fashioned for a box of old rubber bits. Within the space of an hour, my bike was fully roadworthy again and I had been charged for half an hour’s labour if that.

That’s the thing about Alan. He puts things right and knows his customers. He knows my bike works for a living and that I couldn’t give two hoots what it looks like. For me he keeps it working. For other, he keeps them working and beautiful. My good friend Kev always says, “I take my bike to Alan because when I get it back, I know it’s right. Simple!” And he’s right.

I wonder what kind of bike
this item started its life on.

In the mean time Sandra is upstairs booking them in, finding parts for anything and everything and every so often, if you look like you’re in no rush to
be somewhere else, making a cup of tea, good and strong with a splash of milk. Just like Alan, she knows her clients, mostly by name. For goodness sakes, she knows my children by name and doesn’t seem to mind too much when they rearrange her displays for her. I’ve counted on them for the last 13 year and I hope they will still be there for me to count on for many more to come.

So, what did I learn from the whole experience? Darn it. I did say I would write this section and I kinda wish I hadn’t. Please don’t read anything I write as being a ‘Learned Opinion.’

Thanks to these, the bodywork survived
our little adventure and all they asked in
return was a lick of paint.

Ok, first up, the decision to ride is about more than just whether or not it is possible to make progress on a bike. What happens when conditions change? What happens if you brake down? Can you mitigate these concerns with a different route choice? I would have been fine if I had taken a different route.

Next up, the old scout motto, be prepared. A head torch (flashlight) would have prevented any need for recovery. Well, a head torch and a folding shovel. The first now lives under the seat. I’m waiting to find the perfect shovel.

Finally, reading this month’s Ride and recent editions of MCN, it seems my belief that the engine braking on the VStrom is good in the snow, isn’t. I thought it was giving me more control on descents but all others writing about the topic want less torque and no engine braking. Having not tried it, I don’t know. So what have I learned? I’ve learned that a little experience, like a little knowledge, is a dangerous thing.

Lessons learned. This time I turned around.

In future I’ll probably not ride into untreated snow again. Since I started this writing project I’ve had plenty of chances for a repeat and taken the car most times. With parent’s evening, an Easter production and diocesan inspection, I couldn’t risk down time so I usually drove. Then, on my way to work, up the same road that got me last time, I came upon snow and ice. I panicked a little, let the bike roll to a halt, got off and considered my options. That time I took the picture, walked the bike back to the black and found another way. It’s not the coming off I wanted to avoid. It was the cost of fixing and the embarrassment of putting others out. It’s not that I won’t ride if it’s snowing. I can't afford to drive nor can I stand not riding. I will probably head out in snow. I'll just be a bit less adventurous. No, that not fair. I’ll be a little more cautious.

Getting to the Right Bike - A History and Outlook

I have lots of work to do. Really! As well as parent's evening and all the extra work that comes with one of them, we've got inspectors in next week. There are displays, marking planning and a whole plethora of other jobs that need doing way more than this post which is why, not only am I doing it, but I'm plagiarizing from my own work. 

You see, in an attempt to avoid working on things that need to be down, I thought I'd quickly check up on some other blogs I follow. Texas Rambler was at the top of the list with What Do You Ride? Well, with a title like that, I had no chance of getting any work don for quite some time. You really should read it and while you're there, track back through some of his older stuff to. It's all good. This particular one was brief thoughts on what makes the right bike for an individual. He points out  people often go though three bikes before they find the one that's right for them. The comments so far agreed and detailed the bikes that led them to their most recent. Naturally, I had to leave a comment and much of the following is that comment re-posted. For all I know that may be a flagrant infringement of blog etiquette but as I haven't Googled it just yet, I'm claimed the defense of ignorance. Here goes.

I didn't start out on bikes from and early age as many did. Other than my brother on the other side of the Atlantic, non of my family were into bikes. Until my mate Andy let me have a 'Quick bezz about' on his little CB125Dream, I'd never even considered it. That 'bezz' went further than Andy planned though. I absolutely loved it and from that moment on, I was hooked. Soon after, I went to Kosovo, came back with money and got my licence. My first bike was a CB100n which I wish I'd kept for nostalgic reasons. I used that to ride the 35 miles from barracks to my girl friend's place three or four days a week. The 35 miles back, in the dark with 6v head lights was good fun.

Then I went up to a Kawasaki GT550 shaft drive naked bike. Again, a fantastic bike that took me all over Germany. My girlfriend and I took it around the UK camping. Without protection, I do remember it being a cold place to be and something about my luck meant it was always raining in Northern Europe when I was in a rush to get back to camp. Still, I'd have that back for nostalgic reasons (and for the shaft drive). I only sold it because when I left the Army, I assumed I wouldn't be able to afford it. On that point, I was sadly wrong though not by much.

Following that there was a CG125 (my girl friend's really but I rode it more), 

an ER5,

a Hyosung GT250

and a YBR250. All soulless machines which wouldn't be required in richer times for nostalgic reasons. Well, maybe the CG. I do seem to have a soft spot for super reliable, woefully under powered bikes that cost almost nothing to run.

Now the same girlfriend who had me traipsing across Yorkshire is my wife. She has a YBR125 which I ride more than she does. I've got a DL650 VStrom which is the best bike I've ever owned (except the chain drive). I love it so much, I ride the 125 instead most days. Don't ask me to explain, just know that our roads are awful and the YBR125 gets >100mpgUK. My wife loves riding pillion on the Wee as well. That's been on two small tours already. I might even splash out on some hard luggage so we can sell the children and go on a longer tour eventually. It's stable, tall but not crazy tall, comfortable, cheep enough to run, well protected and the engine is a peach. Just now, the Wee is the perfect bike for Ang & I as well as a lovely treat for the commute now and then.

Like Texas Rambler, I occasionally get folk asking me about what bike they should get for their first. My answer is always pretty simple. 'I don't know and neither do you. The only thing I am pretty sure about is that you won't have it for long so don't spend too much money on it.' Any bike in a pinch is better than no bike after all. I've fond memories trips I've made on each and every bike I've owned, soulless or otherwise. However, the one machine I got really good value for money from was that little CB100n.‭ ‬I paid‭ ‬£50‭ ‬for it and can't remember buying anything but new oil every‭ ‬1000‭ ‬miles or so for two years.‭ ‬

Every time I've splashed out on something with warranty remaining,‭ ‬I've gotten rid of it within‭ ‬18‭ ‬months or so and been hit hard by depreciation.‭ ‬I bought Wee four years old with‭ ‬13k on the clock so hopefully I've found the right balance.‭ ‬Mind you,‭ ‬a year on,‭ ‬it is still my favourite bike ever and I can't see me getting rid of that until it's time to retire and buy an RT.

In conclusion,‭ ‬I don't imagine there is ever a perfect bike for any one person.‭ ‬It will doubtless depend on‭;

• Means‭ (‬for me,‭ ‬not great but not terrible‭)
• Build‭ (‬for me,‭ ‬average with a bit of extra gut‭)
• Purpose‭ (‬for me,‭ ‬rural commuting,‭ ‬two up or solo rideouts and short tours.‭)
• Aspirations‭ (‬for me,‭ ‬get out and ride to and through places,‭ ‬speed not an issue‭)
• Other stuff.‭ (‬for me,‭ ‬two cylinders in a V do something special to a bike‭)

Those factors will change with time.‭ ‬And the best bike I've ever owned,‭ ‬God willing,‭ ‬won't be one day.‭

Riding My Motorbike in the Snow Part 2

In which it goes more wrong. 

In my last blog post I told of how I decided to make my way up a moor on an unploughed moor road. If you haven’t read it and intend to read this, you really ought to read that first so give me a click. If you are like minded, it may mitigate the lunacy of what I will cover below.

You see, one Monday morning, a little after 5am atop a moor, I arrived at my turning. Adrenaline was still pumping following the rubber-side-up moment I’d had a few hundred meters previously. The road descended gently and should have been less of a challenge than where I’d come from though the snow was all fresh, no tracks to follow. Thinking back, from where I was, it was probably the best available route to ride back down off the moor anyway. I’m pretty sure that’s not what my prehistoric brain was thinking though. That just wanted to fight through and finish the job.

Things started just fine. The V-twin motor on the Vstrom allows you to make a pretty slow descent just letting it tick over. The front wheel seemed to meet plenty of resistance with the snow as well and that helped me control speed. It helped that the road was straight.

Then I came to a dreaded snow drift and ground to a halt, stalling the bike. Somehow, I also managed to slip as I put my foot down. Once again, I found myself lying in the road feeling an utter twit. In a strange way, it mattered less that time though. I was beginning to accept that falling off was not going to do much more damage than we had already sustained, especially as they were both dead slow or stationary drops.

The problem was, having again heaved the stricken bike to its feet, this time, it didn’t start. Crumbs! (I actually said something else but, you know how it is.) In fact, it was behaving like a Suzuki VStrom or SV does if you don’t pull the clutch to start it. Quite possibly it’s a Suzuki thing. 

I was going nowhere without help and that’s what I pay the AA for. However, before I called them, I wanted to be sure I wasn’t missing something. My former life as a Armoured Vehicle Mechanic (not an especially good one) had taught me that too many break downs are driver error. One particularly memorable event saw me called out in the wee small hours, driving a rover blacked out through rough and muddy ground (wasn’t much cop with that either) to a non-starter. In that case it was a Challenger (i). Exhausted and cold, I climbed into the drivers compartment, removed his helmet from the gear selectors, placed it in neutral, pushed the started and woke up the neighbourhood.

When I climbed out of the compartment the driver asked, “What was wrong with it?” As I recall, I didn’t say anything. Just threw his helmet at him and drove off. He knew just as well as I do, Chally won’t start in gear. Then again, I’ve since learnt you make mistakes in the cold dark hours.

(Another similar event was a Chally with no drive. When you removed some or all of the gash that the driver was carefully storing under the handbrake leaver, it went surprisingly well.)

Not wanting to count myself amongst the cavalrymen I’d come to disrespect, I began to run though the checks. Am I pulling the clutch in? Yep. Check for neutral. Yep, that’s there.  Kill switch? That’s fine. What then? Seat off, I checked the various cables. In the cold light of dawn, I couldn’t see anything that should stop it cranking so I’d little choice but to call for recovery.

At that point I felt like a thoughtless moron. Thanks to my little adventure, some poor patrol driver was being dispatched up a moor in the snow, no doubt pulling him away from many other category B (see previous post) people who just need a quick tug off their drive and a boost. Poor chap was doubtless going to have a busy day as it was. There was however, nothing to be done but make the call and get the bike to somewhere a bit safer.

Did I mention there were two falls? This final one is a real doozy. You see, the Wee’s v-twin motor makes descents a doddle. It’s brakes, which are pretty much just brakes, they aren’t so easy in the snow. When I had the bright idea of sitting on the bike to coast it a bit further down the hill to a gate I didn’t consider that I hadn’t an engine to coast with. I’m pretty fortunate that that was the last misjudgement of the day.

I tried desperately to prevent the build-up of speed that had me travelling faster than I had for miles but it was no use. The gateway past and speed built up. I prayed that I could just keep it upright until the dip in the road, perhaps 200m ahead.

It didn’t happen though. A snow drift and incompetence saw me sliding beside the bike as I’ve done so many times before but usually with a cheep plastic sledge. I’d hit the ground hard this time. The grinding noises as the bike ploughed through soft, pristine snow to the significantly more abrasive black top, they hurt to. This was just getting silly. I lifted it back up one last time, carefully pushed it to the side of the road and removed my helmet, beaten by the snow. As I did so, for the first time since the the car in the ditch, I saw another vehicle. The Landrover cruised to a halt. “Are you waiting for the AA?” I explained that I was and the bike wouldn’t start. “Well, I’ve just seen him back in the village. He can’t get through, even with chains on.”

Well that was great and frankly, fair enough. Sure I’d got the bike there but a Transit was another thing all together. It didn’t make much difference anyway. Having ridden two particularly unreliable bike the last few years, I’ve learnt that all too often the first thing they say when they arrive is, “I don’t know anything about bikes. You’ll have to wait for a recovery truck.” One of them wasn’t likely to get up there for perhaps a day. My predicament was starting to look really quite bad. A phone call to the AA confirmed that they would be sending a local firm and their 4x4 vehicle me. No ETA.

There I was, stuck on a hill. Having food, coffee and excellent cloths for the conditions, I was safe at least. For about 45 minutes I kept myself busy check twitter, listening to and audio book and building a snow man. Eventually the AA rang me with an ETA a mere two and a half hours away. “You won’t mind if I hitch a ride to Otley then I guess.”
“Yes, the driver will call you when he’s ten minutes away,” came the obviously stock reply.
That wasn‘t going to work but I need a cooked breakfast and a cuppa. “It’s gonna take me longer than that to hitch a ride back again. Can’t you ask him to pick me up on his way through Otley?”
Another stock reply. “That would be against our policy but I will ask him to call you as soon as he is on his way.” I figured that would work.

It did to. Within minutes of the call I was sitting in the back of a farmers pick-up forcing the dog to share with his wife. They kindly dropped me off at Dunnies in Otley, home of 30p tea and breakfast for less than 3 quid. It wasn’t anything like two and a half hours before the local 4x4 recovery driver called. The bribe of a cup of tea was enough to get picked up from the cafe. Thus fed, watered and with adrenaline at an all time low, things were moving. Unsurprisingly, the guy didn’t, “know anything about bikes.” Turned out that wouldn’t matter. All we need was a rope and some daylight.

That’s enough story for one night though. It’s not the end of the story though. In part three I’ll get to the mechanical bits. I’ll get to;

• The little, tiny, easily identified (in daylight) fault
• Being towed
• My awesome mechanic Alan at G.W. Johnson’s
• What I should learn from it all.
• Other stuff maybe.

Thanks for reading my post. Please leave a comment if you have time, just to let me know you were here and what you think, warts and all.