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I can’t believe there’s more to come! Excellent write-ups B2BM. Radar’s not off the mark with the ‘True Grit’ film being your anthem. I bet you even walk like John Wayne after some of those accidents.
Keep the stories coming, but not the spills!LOL he walked like John Wayne when he got back from Braintree on the ped, thought I was gonna have to prise the bike out his arse cheeks lmao [:o)]
Part 8.
Commuting over the past year has brought its fair share on curious incidents. It never ceases to amaze me the things drivers get up to at traffic lights. Once after filtering to the front of one traffic queue, I noticed one driver who was playing a game on his mobile phone. A while ago while when was waiting in another traffic queue, I noticed a driver behind me doing some paperwork. Needless to say I got away from him at the earliest opportunity. Then there was the time when some woman pulled out in front of me with her ear was glued to a mobile phone when I was coming around a roundabout. I had to swerve away and around her. I would have been knocked off the bike otherwise.
I also think a sports bike bring out the worst in some drivers. Once I pulled away from some lights a bit smartly, as I often do so there are no cars driving close behind me, and did a left lifesaver before moving into the inside lane and saw some a car, with a stupidly big spoiler on the back, that was there racing alongside me. I had to open the throttle a bit more so I could safely get in front of the him. When will these people realize that although I’m riding a sports bike, it doesn’t mean that I want to race.
Another time I nearly got sideswiped by a mini-cab who thought that inside lane was a better bet. The problem with that was that I was there and he was steering into me. Luckily I was able to swerve towards the kerb to avoid him and swerve back away from the kerb after I got around him. He didn’t take any action himself other than to continue on his murderous course. On countless other times, I’ve had drivers swerve in front of me to purposely block any progress.
I guess when you start getting by without coming off on these occasions, it is a good sign that you’re starting to get better at handling the bike in some cases. The fact that they are happening at all is down to me lapsing into poor observation though. That’s not say I’m not doing some stupid things though, but thankfully they are getting less.
One of the daft things I did was when I had the CBR125 and had to take my laptop home. Only having a laptop case and not a backpack, I bungeed it flat over the tank bag, securing to the bike of course. It happened to a very windy day and the side winds were deadly. Got home safely though, only to find that I had forgotten to put the laptop in the laptop case. Another was when I ask a mate what was this green flashing light beside the clocks on the GSXR.
So towards the end of last year, I had decided to get a bike more suited to commuting and to use through the winter. I was beginning to think that using the GSXR was not a good idea. So I bought this Honda CB250RS off a mate which I thought would do the job admirably.
It’s a great bike. Much more easier to ride than the GSXR in the rush hour traffic. It starts well, except for the one time when I left the parking lights on by mistake and run down the battery one night. It’s also easy to get out of the front gate. I have to manoeuvre the GSXR back and forward quite a few times before I can it out onto the path to get to the road and also I’m not so sure that’s good for the head race bearing. I keep meaning to take a sledgehammer and knock down a gap in the garden wall to get it out easier. It took a while to get used to the brakes on the CB250 after riding the GSXR. The rear on the CB250 has more movement on the rear brake pedal. Now if I’m not careful, though, I lock up the back wheel sometimes when I first get back on the GSXR.
The first time I took the CB250 for a lengthy ride, after a good few miles it started to judder a bit and then it cut out. I wheeled it for a bit, then I was able to bump start it. After another mile the same thing would happen again. So I did what I did before, again. Further on it would cut out again. This went on for the next 5 miles until I got to a steep hill. There was no way in hell was I going to push it up that, so I sat down by the side of the road to think about the next step. After a few moments of admiring the scenery and listening to the birds sing, I had this absolutely terrific idea. It was like a dazzling flash of light that would have illuminated the universe. I went over to the bike, switched the fuel tap over to reserve, started it and rode merrily on to the next garage I could find.
One weird experience I had while riding back from work on it, was when I overtook this blue a mini van. It later tried unsuccessfully to undertake me on a roundabout, the muppets inside ranting inanities out of the open windows. It tailgated me all the way down the A45 into Birmingham. It then tried to undertake me coming up to a junction. When it failed, it swung into the outside lane that was ending 25 feet later to try to overtake me there. Failed again and finally the guy behind the wheel went ape on the vans horn. Shaking my head, I left them behind as I filtered on through the traffic. He must have a bit miffed at something. I think I’m a nut magnet.
Then there was the time I binned the bike, twice in one day in exactly the same place and ten minutes apart. There is this circuit of roads near where I live that I practice on. One road cuts across the middle of it. This road had this bend which has completely baffled me. The first time I approached it, I got anxious about something, braked hard and a low sided the bike. The bike was undamaged and as I was puzzled as to why it happened, I decided to go round the loop again, come back for another try and see if I can find out what went wrong. So I set off and everything was fine with the other bends in the loop until I came around to this one particular bend again. Only the same thing happen again in exactly the same place and in exactly the same way. Even the additional scratch marks in the tarmac matched the previous ones. This time I snapped off the right indicator stem and the handle bars where a bit skewed. I decided it was probably better to call it a day after that and ride home for some repairs. It was the same bend that I low sided the CBR125 on a couple of years ago. I’ve been back to look at in the car, drove around, walked around it, looked at it from every angle and I still don’t know why it’s a problem. I’m trying to sort out a problem with the electrics on the CB250 at the moment (haven’t got around to it yet). It has supplanted the scooter for a place in the garage… I mean kitchen. When its done, I’ll take it back there again to sort out that corner.
So it is back to commuting with the GSXR for the moment as the wife won’t let me use her scooter anymore. Don’t know why.
Part 9.
I’ve found commuting in Birmingham to be an ideal way to learning awareness and control on a bike but I’ve come to think most of the things I’ve learnt do not translate to riding on the open road. I thought it wouldn’t be much different, apart from less cars and traffic lights. That was wrong. I have only been three long rides. There was one other, but that one doesn’t count as that one was where I ended up in a ditch after fifteen minutes. It was a big mistake to think, Hmmm… this is fun,… oh b****cks!
I tend to miss the organised ones, partly due to work commitments and partly because I’ve always tend not go anywhere unless invited. It saves the guys having to tell me to sod off if my presence is not wanted. One of the irritating thing I have found on longish rides is that after about an hour I get a lot pain in the upper arms. I try to ignore it for as long as possible but eventually I have to stop when I lose all feeling in my arms and hands. I’ve tried adjusting riding positions and thought it was just a matter of time getting used to the bike but it doesn’t seem to make any difference, it never gets any better. My philosophy is though, if I want to ride a sports bike, tough, deal with it. Either that or it’s just that I enjoy pain when striving for perfection.
The first long ride on the GSXR was on what I call Radar’s route. It’s a ride from Birmingham to Kidderminster, then through Leominster and on to Crossgates. I did this route on the CBR125 a few years ago. There was one bend I messed up on and that was one between Leominster and Crossgates. Something didn’t feel right and I had to stand the bike up and coast to the other side of the road onto a gravel runoff/lay-by. I was lucky there was no oncoming traffic. I did the same thing with the CBR125 on exactly the same bend. At least I’m consistent. I think it’s a very nice route with some good roads and bends (when I can get round them). This ride was the one were the arm problems became apparent and I had to stop for a while at the Crossgates café before heading on up towards Newtown and back via The Craven Arms, then Kidderminster again and back to Birmingham. The biggest worry was how to get out of the Crossgates car park and not drop the bike, looking like a complete idiot in front of the proper bikers there.
The next rideout was in The Peaks, to the Cat and Fiddle with the guys from the Bikers-Café forum and others from GB Bikers, UK Bike Forum and the Ride Out Crew forums.
I rode up the with Bikers-Café members, Gix, DaveRS, Abo and Speed Monster. I rarely ever managed to keep up with anybody as they soon disappeared from view. Everyone had to stop and wait for me further along the route. When at the pub, I did venture up and down the Cat and Fiddle once, albeit not so fast as everyone else seemed to be able to do it. I just took my time, going round the bends practicing leaning off the bike and then leaning in the bike itself. I stayed wide till I could see the exits approaching after the vanishing point then tipped the bike in towards the them. I was enjoying the novelty of actually going round a bend rather than going straight ahead and off into the ditch. The return journey was with Gix and Speed Monster. I had to slow down a lot on the way back because of the pain in the arms was getting unbearable. Gix and Speedy were patiently waiting for me further on though. I felt very bad at holding the guys up and must have made their rides very disjointed.
The other rideout was another solitary one back to the peaks. Leaving Birmingham behind and I went to Matlock. Trying to keep out of the way of the proper bikers, I then went from Matlock up to Buxton. I had no idea of where I wanted to go and but oddly enough I found myself on the Cat and Fiddle. I had a go up and down it as I was there. I had to stop at the pub to ease the pain in the arms which was by then sheer agony. Then I was off back to Buxton and turned up towards Whaley Bridge. I stopped to see if I could help when another rider on a Harley who was punted from behind by another driver at the junction of the Cat and Fiddle but as everything seem to be in hand, I left. From here I decided to get onto A57 The Snake Pass, but ended up in Manchester instead. I never worry about getting lost as I don’t ever get lost or at least admit to it. It just takes me a little while longer on the odd occasion to find out exactly where I am. And then there’s always the technique or riding around in ever increasing circles until you see something you recognise. From Manchester then, I got onto the A57 and went east towards Sheffield. I had to stop again at some pub to rest my arms again as the pain was constant by then, before heading on to Sheffield and then down the M1. I had to do lots of filtering where I don’t think I was much of an ambassador for the biking community, onto the M42 and off at the A45. Nipped into to work to print of some pictures for my eldest’s homework and then it was back through Birmingham and home. Nine hours of riding or so the wife informed me.
I’m starting to feel a lot more confident on the GSXR especially the times when my dad is with me. I think he likes to pop up every now and then just to find out how I’m getting along, him being a proper biker himself in his younger days before mum persuaded him give it up. I often wonder what he would say about my riding now. A really amazingly brave man, the last thing he ever said to me before he died of cancer, at which time he could hardy speak, was “It’s OK son, everything will be alright” and he gave me his gold wrist**tch. I have only over the past few months just started to wear it on the bike. I didn’t want to risk breaking it before. It’s a kind of a good luck charm now. When I‘ve been wearing it, I’ve had no mishaps on the bike. I’d like to think he would be proud.
Brill B2B, just good honest and sincere.
It sounds as though your arms are pumping up giving you the pain. This is a common symptom of bike racers as they have to grip the bars tight and throw it into corners hanging off the bike. Digger and I used to hang around with a couple of racers, Woolsey Coulter and Ian Newton, ex-250GP rider and North West 200 Winner; they would would both have pumped up arms after a race with veins protruding like a braille canal map of Venice. They were in pain which would deminish after relaxing off the bike.
Maybe you are gripping the bars / grips too tight unconciously, try relaxing your grip on the straight bits and see if that helps.
Part 10
Life has never been as interesting as it has become now, now that I’ve started to ride a motorbike. I base this fact, besides the amount of bike related mishaps I have had, on the amount of encounters I have had with the police in the short time I have been riding.
First, to anyone who doubts the legality of filtering, I followed a motorbike policeman through a particularly long stretch of filtering one evening. He cruised through at 15mph and I followed 10 metres behind. He even waved to me a one point I think. I got held up eventually by one grey haired car driver who thought, as I was only an ordinary road user, that I wasn’t entitled to follow the policeman and he moved out to sharply block my progress.
On one occasion I was followed part of the way home by the police one night. I was coming down this road slowing to stop at a mini roundabout and a traffic police car crossed the island in front of me. The traffic car turned around and started to follow me. As I only doing about 34mph or thereabouts, I was wondering what was up. They paced me at a few hundred metres for a bit and then pulled up to closer behind me to about 25 metres for a bit longer. They then overtook me after I pulled out onto a main road and drove away. I uncharitably thought they was hoping to goad me into going faster then stop me as I’ve heard a rumour that this has happened before. In actual fact, as it was so rightly pointed out me, was that they were probably just doing an ANPR check to see if the bike was stolen or uninsured. Having two bikes stolen so far (and three cars for that matter), I now look back on the incident now with some understanding and much appreciation.
Then on the way home one Friday night through Birmingham, I encountered a huge tailback. Cars were every which way, each trying to force their through at the couple of roundabouts en route. I was able to filter through the traffic and manoeuvre over the roundabouts for the couple of miles that the tailback lasted, until I eventually got to two cars from the front and stopped. The tailback was because the police and Fire Brigade were out with a recovery truck extracting a car from out of some trees. I noticed two of the policemen glancing at me and talking to amongst themselves. Then one nodded and headed straight toward me. I was getting a bit worried by then and thought he is going to have a word out my road positioning as I was waiting between two other cars. Instead though he said, “If you get to the front, mate, you can carry on through.” I said Ok, thanks and gratefully did so. Had nice clear road from then on.
A few months later while riding back from visiting my brother in Chippenham, I passed a police car on the M4. I noticed a minute later, a mobile disco behind me. He’s after someone I thought… oh it’s me! I thought it was for my speed as I was doing about 85mph and felt the bottom dropping out of the world. However, it was because they could find no trace of me on the insurance database after carrying out an ANPR check. This was very worrying as the check that must have been done earlier before in Birmingham must have come back with a trace. I was concerned because between that incident and this, I had had one of my accidents. I could not help thinking that the insurance company had mixed up the paperwork up, inadvertently cancelling my policy. I got to sit a nice warm police car for a bit however, just as the heavens opened with an impromptu rain storm, while they took my details.
One of the guys was a biker and mentioned that his partner was not only a cager, but drove a Shogun. To which his partner murmured while writing, “Driving a Shogun does not make me a bad person”. Bearing in mind my location and the company I was in, though smiling, I thought it best that I kept a noncommittal and diplomatic silence. I was pleased when the one who was the biker said that I “kept the bike in good nick” though. He did go over it very closely when I was first stopped which made me feel a little disconcerted in case I had missed anything myself. They gave me a producer and they let me on my way after unsuccessfully trying to get my insurers on the phone. The guy who was the biker gave me some advice about the possible condition of the hard shoulder and moving out into the flow of the motorway traffic. Although it was something that I already had had in mind, I felt in no way was it patronising and I was very grateful for his concern. Also, I have always believed that if you tell me something once I learn something new, If you tell me I something already know I learn something better.
The only thing to do then was to get back home as soon as possible and to see if I was still insured. There followed a very quick and panicky ride back up the M5. I had to stop, frustratingly, at a service station as my upper arms had by then to become unbearably painful again and it was impossible to continue for a while. After an hour I was off again though. When I did get back home the first thing I did was to log on and check that I was insured, which thankfully I was. The next morning I took my documents down to the local police station and everything was sorted out.
The thing is though, is that although you have proved your innocence in the end, you weren’t able to prove it those who originally questioned it. I always like to leave people with a good impression, especially guys I admire and respect (sorry, but I do), and I can’t help thinking that there is someone, somewhere who has thinks I have got away with something.
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