First group run on the 'blade.
Watch your lines, keep it smooth, remember the route, CORNER ...
relax damnit ... don't use the back brake (It's OK - I've got
that one sussed)
Paul R was waiting in Marlborough.
One of us has to be first to miss a run- sometime - and it looks like it will be me
next month.
Oh well
We catch sight of John & James.
Robocop is amongst us - and he rides a BT
Flip front lid and FOAD moto-cross boots just complete the picture.
The Polly tea rooms are remarkably devoid of bikers for a Sunday
morning, in fact there is only one other biker there.
We settle down the back room for breakfast without sausage sandwiches
as John & James regale us with tales of the stupid car drivers
they have already met. James seems to be somewhat of a magnet
for idiots at roundabouts today so we'd better be careful.
The 'other biker' wanders over and asks if we are "going
round the horses", probably just as well that we are as it
would have been a very odd question to put to anyone else.
He introduces himself as Paul (PaulB²) and joins us as we
come to the conclusion that we get the best attendance on runs
in the middle of winter.
The A345 south from Marlborough - if you don't know then I'm sorry
- is one of the best bike roads in the area. Not the best road
for overtaking but nicely twisty - and at least one of corners
which should have chevron warning signs, doesn't. Just to keep
you on your toes.
Fast enough to keep James happy, slow enough so John doesn't get
blown off the back of the BT, but I'm not riding the 'blade as
hard as it can be ridden, because I don't know it well enough - yet.
Fast but comfortable seems the order of the day.
Pewsey - Horse number one. And a very scruffy example.
Over the hill and over to the A338 to Hungerford. PaulR has discovered
the best way to get the 'bird round corners. Lay it over till
it starts scraping metal - hold till the end of the corner - straighten up. James
later commented that there is quite a thump as the pegs go down.
Over Lambourn Downs and across to the 'Vale of the White Horse'
Why are they called 'Downs' ?
The most noticeable thing about them is that they are up !
Below the Uffington Horse (Number two) we stopped for a smoke
break.
Some folks don't like that one - say it doesn't look like a
horse, but it is the best one, and no - I don't know who did it.
It wasn't me. I wasn't even in the area that day. I have witnesses.
We sat on the side of the road and talked about the kind of things
that bikers talk about. Bikes mostly, and tyres, and bike trips,
and being threatened by the French police with shotguns. The usual
stuff really.
To shouts of 'When's lunch dad' and 'Are we nearly there yet'
we set off in search of another horse.
Running parallel to and south of the M4 we headed to Wootton Basset,
James managing to attracted the attention of another idiot cager
at yet another roundabout.
Through Wootton Basset to Broad town and horse number three. Over
the hill to the A4361.
I hadn't been sure if anyone actually cared about the horses,
but before I could point out number four I heard a shout of 'Horse
number four' and saw John pointing ahead of us.
At that point the plan had been to find out if folks wanted lunch
then or in 15 minutes or three quarters of an hour, but my bladder
short circuited the question.
Straight to the Red Lion in Avebury for lunch.
If you don't know it, Avebury is a village inside a stone circle
(yes it's a big circle). On the corner in the centre is a pub,
the Red Lion, that has a most odd clientele.
Bikers, hippy freaks and blue rinse tourists.
You should visit on a Wednesday evening.
Wall to wall bikes.
The pub car park is closed to cars from late
afternoon. Every space in the village has at least one bike parked
in it.
Having eaten, we set off to collect the last two horses of the
day and a crop circle or two.
If it hadn't been for the crop circles we would probably have
been OK.
South off the A4, past the Devises horse (Number five) and west
towards Bishops Cannings for the crop circles. I missed the turn
to Bishops Cannings, and muttering to myself signalled to John,
behind me, that I was going to U-turn.
John saw my signal and realised I was pointing out the crop circle
so when I pulled in to U-turn, he pulled up beside me, just where
I was starting to turn the bike towards. Front brake on gravel
... 'blade and Mac gently and, I believe, gracefully, slide to
the ground at something around 2 mph.
It seemed an age that I was lying on the ground, with my right
leg under the bike as John looked down at me and apologised. I
reassured him that it was my own dumb fault and if he would just
move forward I would be able to get up (and it would also get
his exhaust out of my face - but I didn't mention that).
That's the first time I've dropped my bike and not had to pick
it up myself. James and the Pauls were on it.
Damage to the 'blade - Front brake lever broken off, front indicator
knocked loose, some greenish fluid on the ground, black leather
mark on the tank.
Damage to me - I'm not sure. When I have dropped the VFR I was
embarrassed, shocked, humiliated, but I'm not really any of those.
It's just one of those things.
If I'm going to take the 'blade on tracks I realise that it will
probably, at some point or other, get damaged. Not that I'm trying
to bin it, you understand, but it is not my 'pride & joy'.
Call the AA or try to ride it home ?
It's only 15 odd miles so I go for the 'ride home' option.
With an escort.
Having spent the last couple of weeks training myself to not
use the back brake ...
It's actually not to hard. Keep it smooth. Use as much of the
road as you can to preserve as much forward vision as possible.
And remember that slowing is something to be planned.
So far so good.
Until the first junction.
Vehicle approaching, almost stopped, feet down, SHIT-NO-BRAKES,
feet up, stop, start to fall, SHIT-FEET-DOWN.
I had the option of stopping or putting my feet down ...
Almost home and some kids in a cage decide to have 'fun' with
us.
Having sat a couple of feet off James's back wheel they eventually
overtake everyone but me, and sit a couple of feet off my back
wheel through double white lines. As soon as it is safe for them
to go past, I wave them on and they come past giving me no room
but rather, some unsavoury hand signals.
That really was a mistake.
John caught up with them a couple of miles down the road and ...
pointed out to them that their lack of politeness was unbecoming.
We never did get to that last horse.
But I got a peg down on the 'blade.
Thanks again, folks, for making sure I got home safely.