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Most high performance ‘family’ cars eg, the new Jag, I believe are speed restricted to 155mph.
They should just do that with Bikes. With its current drive chain changes mine would be around there so I am okay. LOL.
Very funny, I don’t see how they can ban bikes, it would be like banning chavs from shopping centers.
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Originally posted by imperialdataHoly cow. Just goes to show it’s lampposts and cars that kill you when you fall off, not the speed.
Bike nearly hit him though it seems!
Speed doesn’t kill, its the stopping that does it.
Like this though..
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it must have been sooo scary. imagine watg he was thinkin when he was flyin through the air after he fell off!!Answers on a postcard?
My bet, he wasn’t thinking much at that moment.
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can you still pedal the bike?Why the hell would you want to pedal it? Its got a wopping great jet engine hanging out the back.
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Originally posted by Pete247bugger! Hope you both speaking terms now? LOL
Oh yeah, we were on speaking terms after I bought him a beer when we made camp!
Its all good fun though! LOL.
LOL, this made me laugh.
Never let your mate near your bike with a drill unless you have full confidence over his abilities.Its a clever bit of software, but it can’t be spot-on, I don’t see how it can measure hp? surely, it depends on whether the rider has the throttle fully open or not.
However, its $12, which is about £6-8?? Not bad for a simple data logger though. And something to tell your mates in the pub.As I said in bikerscafe, I quite like the idea of the new test (he says now).
I read an article explaining the new test, and the sad fact is that I don’t think that what I learnt on my DAS 18 months ago, would prepare me for the new test. Only after riding maybe 6 months after would I have had the confidence and skill to pass.
Which goes to show that the current test ain’t all that, and that if I didn’t have people such as yourselves to learn from I would have terrible habbits by now, or even be squished under a c*r somewhere.
Now I don’t have to take the test, I think its a good thing. I know people are moaning about it, but one of the things, I believe, that kept me out of trouble was doing a bikesafe course. Which was my decision, and isn’t required by law. Technically it wasn’t my decision, it was the idea of the police officer that pulled us for speeding, but you get the jist.
The current DAS is crap, it teaches you how to keep the bike upright and moving, but thats it. They don’t even mention counter steering which is a key part of bike control.
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Originally posted by TT07I’ve said it before and still keep reminding myself, I should have hung onto my XN85 Turbo Suzuki 650.
Fasteddie off of bikers cafe has one. He used to have one years ago, missed it, saw another last year, so bought it!
The final part
Thursday
The next morning found boots full of water, bike electrics soaked, and the tent had taken more battering.
After waiting over an hour for the site tumble dryer to finish drying most of our gear, we packed up and headed off; again taking the lake side route for about 16 miles, really good fun if not a bit slippy in some places, having enjoyed the past few days of Velcro-like grip, my ham fisted (throttle stop and hold on) approach to exits left the back trying to kick a few times, but if was all part of the fun!
After a few more hours dash on the motorway, we came off for the last hour across the farm lands of France, arriving at Gigny-Sur-Saone, more precisely the Chateau de L’eperivere.For some reason, I didn’t get any photos. I think serious exhaustion and the promise of a late night bar got the better of me.
Needless to say, the campsite is built in the grounds of an old French chateau, and the restaurant, bar etc, were all build in the refurbished stables. Beautiful.
G2M had some stomach problems around 3am, in which he went into too much detail after returning to the tent about half an hour later. We don’t think it was the food, more his crap diet and awful eating patterns for the last few days.
Friday
Fridays plan was to make a quick dash 240 miles on the motorway to Reims, to miss out getting anywhere near Paris. Then take Reims to our final campsite 3 kms outside Amiens.
Jumping on the motorway for the final time, fatigue was setting in instantly, and I had (apart from the 3am wake-up call) slept a bit too deeply and was suffering with shoulder pains. They were okay when I sat up, but zx6r’s don’t cater for sitting up at high speed. When I did sit up the windblast was causing more of my limited energy to drain.
We needed to stop for repairs as G2Ms scottoiler was spraying oil over the left side of his rear tyre but finally after a couple of hours we arrived in Reims.We both had a hot dog, and I finished off a well-needed Grand Café Crème!
Informed the Satnav to avoid motorways at all costs, and headed down the N31 and the D934 to Amiens.
The hardest part of this route was the fact the single carriageway roads designed with using only rulers and set squares, offered the chance to open the throttles hard and top the bikes out. Normally a plus point, but the sneaky pint sized rear facing speed cameras made the trip more of a spotting trip than anything else.Setting up camp for the last time, the tent was completely wrecked. The storm on Wednesday night had ruined the outer cover, our drunken antics had bust one of the two main support poles, and the dry hard ground of most of the campsites had caused a few tears whilst taking down the tent.
We unloaded the bikes, donned our jeans, t-shirt and trainers, helmet and jackets, and headed off into Amiens. Locking the bikes up we found comfort in the Friday night collection of other bikers, annoyingly a brand new Ducati 848 was packed next to mine! I love those!
We had our final meal of the trip abroad, and headed back for an early night.Saturday
Waking early, G2M got all our bookings sorted and his passport back from the campsite reception. Once all the important stuff was sorted, I woke up! HAHA!
Packing the tent for the final time on its trip of Europe, it was quite a sad moment. Not only our trip was over, but that our final journey included the 3 hours from Dover to Brum.
Our final trip through France was a 2-hour blast down the D928, 86 miles of single carriageway twistys and straight farmland runs, arriving quickly in Calais.
After getting booked in, we had about an hour to wait, and were looking forward to a quick meal in Calais, but to our disappointment, Calais services aren’t as good as the Dover ones. The only food facilities available were a crappy little instant drinks machine.Finally, the ferry arrived, and after strapping the bikes down, we made haste for the food court. Large fish, chips and (of course) mushy peas! Large lemonade, and a cheesecake. Probably the biggest meal we had had all trip.
Afterwards followed the 3 hour trek home, amazingly we filled up near Dover, and I got the bike all the way to Warwick Services for the next stop. Either that’s impressive riding or the tank holds more than 18litres.
Getting separated on the M40, the final 100 miles were quite miserable. Not only the lack of decent sleep or a decent eating schedule, but I realised, it’s the only time alone since 6:30am last Sunday. Although most people would be glad to get rid of G2M, it didn’t feel right, it also gave me time to reflect on what we had done.In thought!
We started with high hopes and stories from people who had done it all before. Don’t get me wrong, what we did on just 3 days planning was bloody impressive since a trip to crossgates was hard enough the other month.
I think we gave ourselves too much to do in too shorter time. The motorways were the killer. Lack of food and sleep left the motorways looking like never ending sections of tarmac, 4-hour journeys only ever broken up by tollbooths.
When looked back, I would love to do the same blast to Switzerland, but I would set up camp there and stay there for a week. There is so much to do. All the best bits of Europe, but in one country.
It was always going to be an experience, and it didn’t fail to be anything else. The view from the top of the Fluela pass can’t be forgotten, especially when you have a bike waiting for you to carry on.Finally, I would like to thank the one that didn’t give up, kept plodding on when things were going wrong, and even though I didn’t treat you with the respect you deserve. You rule!
He returned back from France, but I don’t think will be going on anymore trips.Tent!
Part Two
Tuesday
As we set off from Vitznau, we were instantly being launched onto incredible roads following the edge of the Lake, some parts had drops so far that if you made a mistake you had time to phone for the emergency services. We stopped to get fuel at Ingenbohl before coming off the lake road and onto the Klontalerstrasse road. The road here still didn’t let you down. Winding up the outer edge of the mountain, the bikes were running well, and we were taking full advantage, being cranked over on their side only led to cranking them further over onto the edge of the tyres round a blind right hand 180’ bend as a truck coming down was using 2 feet of our side of the road too! The brown trouser moment only served as a reminder of the hidden dangers of such incredible roads, there were no second chances here.
Soon after we turned off and began our ascent up the Fluelapass, and as we reached the 2’300 metre top, you could feel the bikes struggling in the low rev range, as the air thinned you could smell the mixture getting richer, exhausts popping loudly on downshifts. It was worth it. The views were so incredible target fixation caused me to miss my turn-in point, braking hard to miss the barrier by inches on one turn.That was enough to get us to stop for a bit, outside the Hotel Fluela Hospiz, 2’383 metres above sea level.
As we started down the other side the views were ignored as the roads seemed to drop away on corners, some hairpin corners required full steering lock to keep you from running wide.
We finally crossed into Italy at Campocologno, but my first impressions of the country were made clear just a few miles in with a 37 euro fine for speeding.
87kph in a 50 zone!
It soon became apparent that this is where our plan was running thin. As we joined the SS42 toll road, the satnav happily announced “follow the road for 107miles”.
Now, I have heard the rumours that Italians are nuts, and on the motorways they only served to prove the rumours correct, for example, they only indicate as they are half way across the lane change; and we had an even bigger problem….…. 32’C ambient, in full bike leathers. You could begin to understand why the locals ride around in shorts and t-shirt. It was killing us. Dehydration wasn’t only causing pins and needles, but heavy eyelids too. We made the decision to stop. We took on plenty on water, and after a lengthy chat, decided to loose the leather trousers in favour for jeans. We continued on.
Finally, we arrived at San Felice del Banaco, Italy; our third campsite, overlooking Lake Garda.
To be fair, it was what we needed. A family holiday park meant two things, bar and restaurant. We took full advantage of both, but at closing time we were ready to keep going. Having a walk around we heard singing and music coming from near the lake side. We followed and soon found ourselves in a very nice seated area, not being dressed overly well (villa shorts and reebok t-shirt), I took a seat at the back, while G2M found some drinks. It was all going well until we found out that the party was actually a German wedding reception, and the hotel we were in… was booked only for guests of the couple. On the bright side, the bar bill was being picked up by the groom, so… not wanting to make too much of a scene, we picked up our glasses and made a hasty beeline for the exit! LOL! I never got chance to say at the time but thankyou to the couple (and this is the reason I am not footing the bill at my wedding next year).
Wednesday
The following day comprised of stinging hangovers, and the heat was rapidly picking up again, by 10am it was closing in on the mid 20’s. We decided to leave biking for a while, we were only due to head back to Vitznau anyway, and that could be covered in only a few hours via the Saint Goddard tunnel. After a soak in the pool, we packed up and hit the road, but not before soaking all our gear in cold water.
The motorway was again a nightmare, 34’C, nuts Italians, still a slight headache. Not a good combination.
I did get a brief enjoyment as my £2000 zx6r, laden with panniers and a tent. Kept up from a rolling 50mph, with a £120’000 Ferrari F430, right upto 150, before he edged away. I wonder if he is still crying that my bike cost £118’000 less than his car, and I kept up. HAHA!!!!
Our excitement of returning to Vitznau was however ruined by a severe storm right on top of the campsite. Which I am told was enough to knockout the football transmission. That night was not pretty.After over a 1000 miles on the pillion seat, the tent wasn’t looking too good either. It had already suffered a broken pole from our drunken return the night before, and wind on the bike had caused small holes in the outer canvas. As a result, in came the rain.
The tent leaked everywhere we looked. G2M (believe it or not) came up with an idea, to cover the tent with bin liners. This at least stopped the rain in the main compartment.Mine has the 6pot calipers at the front. I know some don’t like them because of flexing etc. but with the addition of braided hoses and new brake fluid, she is very responsive on the brakes.
You’ll have to have a go next time we’re out.
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