26 Oct 2012
27 Aug 2012
25 Aug 2012
In photos: Cornwall
With 10 days of annual leave to use up before the end of August, I contemplated a journey to Helsinki Finland. It was not meant to be, however, so I booked in at a campground near Porkellis Cornwall, packed up the bike and made the 300 mile journey from London.
My route took me past Basingstoke, Andover, Yeovil, Exeter and Bodmin—a scenic route, but one with heavy traffic. There are no motorways going all the way to Cornwall and bottlenecks form where 4-lane routes merge into 2-lane roads. In theory, not a problem with a bike, but in practice with side panniers in place it was slow going at times.
On the way back the rain chucked it down—true to tradition whenever I leave London, it seems. The combination of rain, traffic and small roads meant the normally 6-hour journey ended up taking nearly 9 hours, with the rain finally subsiding 4 miles from home. I’m starting to feel like I’m jinxed—but the charms and gorgeous landscapes of Cornwall made it worth every wet moment.
Campground—Porkellis: The road in—the grass in the middle was treacherous in the wet as the heavy bike wanted to sink, and riding in the ruts meant about 4–5" clearance between the stone walls and panniers
Basecamp—Porkellis: Tent set up in a grassy field with a view almost to the ocean—it proved to be waterproof as advertised during a storm on the last night
Camp stove—Porkellis: Macro shot of my camp stove—it was the smallest/lightest stove I could find but a powerful little bugger
Campground—Porkellis: A disused antique soil roller
My route took me past Basingstoke, Andover, Yeovil, Exeter and Bodmin—a scenic route, but one with heavy traffic. There are no motorways going all the way to Cornwall and bottlenecks form where 4-lane routes merge into 2-lane roads. In theory, not a problem with a bike, but in practice with side panniers in place it was slow going at times.
On the way back the rain chucked it down—true to tradition whenever I leave London, it seems. The combination of rain, traffic and small roads meant the normally 6-hour journey ended up taking nearly 9 hours, with the rain finally subsiding 4 miles from home. I’m starting to feel like I’m jinxed—but the charms and gorgeous landscapes of Cornwall made it worth every wet moment.
Campground—Porkellis: The road in—the grass in the middle was treacherous in the wet as the heavy bike wanted to sink, and riding in the ruts meant about 4–5" clearance between the stone walls and panniers
Basecamp—Porkellis: Tent set up in a grassy field with a view almost to the ocean—it proved to be waterproof as advertised during a storm on the last night
Camp stove—Porkellis: Macro shot of my camp stove—it was the smallest/lightest stove I could find but a powerful little bugger
Campground—Porkellis: A disused antique soil roller
Daisies—Porkellis: Daisies in the garden at the campground
Progressive post-modernist dish scrubber holder—Porkellis: Yes it’s Barbie naked and bound in the campground wash house—she symbolises the eccentric charm found all over Cornwall, although she didn’t have much to say about it
The end of England—Sennen Cove: Well, not quite the end—Land’s End is technically 100m further west but has become trashy theme park charging admission for the privilege of setting foot on the most western point of the English mainland... what a disappointment that people will try to capitalise on anything
Bridge—Boscastle: In August 2004 a flash flood nearly 3m deep washed away the previous bridge at this spot, flooding all the surrounding buildings and washing out around 50 cars into the bay—unimaginable on such a serene sunny day
Boscastle: Another view towards the bay—following on from the devastating flood in 2004, the bay flooded again in June 2007 but on a much smaller scale
Witchcraft Museum—Boscastle: Cornwall is almost synonymous with witchcraft so the museum had to be on the must-see list—nice to see the witches playing their part with their environmentally friendly truck
Witchcraft Museum—Boscastle: An altar near the entrance of the museum
Witchcraft Museum—Boscastle: This charming crone was meditating with her puss while stroking her crystal ball
Witchcraft Museum—Boscastle: Jars of botanicals labelled with their properties relating to witchcraft
Witchcraft Museum—Boscastle: A petrified teddy bear used in witchcraft for its healing properties
Giew Mine boilerhouse—St Ives: Giew Mine was in operation from 1838–1922 and produced around 150 tonnes of tin during that time—the boilerhouse housed the steam engine used to pump water out of the shafts
Fields near St Ives: Typical stunning Cornish landscape—being one of the wettest parts of the UK it lush and green throughout the summer
Beach—St Ives: Don’t let the cloudy sky put you off—it was around 25°C, perfect for exploring by motorbike
4 Aug 2012
In photos: Zūmo Rideout 2012
Ducati Aylesbury, Bucks
Having recently purchased a BMW Navigator IV (manufactured by Garmin) following the untimely drowning of my TomTom Rider, I received an email from Garmin tantalising me with the offer of a free bacon buttie and coffee if I joined the Garmin Zūmo Rideout—as well as a chance to win a trip to Africa or the just-released Zūmo 350LM GPS with winners of the draw to be announced by Long Way Round/Down host Charley Boorman.
The rideout was a choice of bronze (80 mile), silver (100 mile) or gold (135 mile) routes through the posh Cotswolds, so really there was no excuse not to go. It ended up being a fantastic day out, tainted only by a few unwelcome heavy showers—but I’d expect nothing less on our wet little island.
Ducati Aylesbury: Despite morning showers and ominous clouds, the place was hopping
Ducati Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire: The weather eventually cleared up... but for how long?
Charley Boorman: Special guest Charley Boorman—warm hearted and likeable chap who spent much of the morning speaking to people at the event before announcing winners of the Garmin Zūmo draw
A random road... to somewhere: Rain again just as the rideout started
Field access: Tempting... but the farmer would not be amused
‘The Great British Summer’: At least it was warm...
Bucks fields: Stunningly beautiful scenery
Rolling hills and gentle curves: Perfect country roads for motorbiking
Short break: Finally drying up with blue sky peaking through the clouds
Straw field: I’m not used to such uncomplicated views—absolutely gorgeous
Motorway pull-out: One last break before heading back to London
Having recently purchased a BMW Navigator IV (manufactured by Garmin) following the untimely drowning of my TomTom Rider, I received an email from Garmin tantalising me with the offer of a free bacon buttie and coffee if I joined the Garmin Zūmo Rideout—as well as a chance to win a trip to Africa or the just-released Zūmo 350LM GPS with winners of the draw to be announced by Long Way Round/Down host Charley Boorman.
The rideout was a choice of bronze (80 mile), silver (100 mile) or gold (135 mile) routes through the posh Cotswolds, so really there was no excuse not to go. It ended up being a fantastic day out, tainted only by a few unwelcome heavy showers—but I’d expect nothing less on our wet little island.
Ducati Aylesbury: Despite morning showers and ominous clouds, the place was hopping
Ducati Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire: The weather eventually cleared up... but for how long?
Charley Boorman: Special guest Charley Boorman—warm hearted and likeable chap who spent much of the morning speaking to people at the event before announcing winners of the Garmin Zūmo draw
A random road... to somewhere: Rain again just as the rideout started
Field access: Tempting... but the farmer would not be amused
‘The Great British Summer’: At least it was warm...
Bucks fields: Stunningly beautiful scenery
Rolling hills and gentle curves: Perfect country roads for motorbiking
Short break: Finally drying up with blue sky peaking through the clouds
Straw field: I’m not used to such uncomplicated views—absolutely gorgeous
Motorway pull-out: One last break before heading back to London
18 Jun 2012
2 Jun 2012
Wind turbine farm on the A6 motorway near Lelystad NL
Such a surreal view, 100m tall wind turbines lining the dyke as far as you can see, set against a grassy landscape 10m below sea level—and bug carnage on the camera lens.
15 Apr 2012
In photos: Wisley Airfield
I went out to Wisley Airfield last Sunday. Unfortunately the byways were mud pits and I had my mate Dan with me riding pillion. Not wanting to get my bike impounded, as Wisley Airfield is only open to walkers, I parked up and took a wander.
Absolutely surreal place—it was built during the second world war to test aircraft but closed in the early 70s. All the buildings have long been demolished and all that’s left are broad expanses of tarmac surrounded by rape and corn fields. There isn’t a lot left of the runway centreline and barriers have been erected to prevent aircraft from landing. All in all, a bit spooky—very quiet and tarmac as far as you can see.
Elm Lane: Near the entrance to Wisley Airfield
Wisley Airfield runway: Standing near the eroded runway centreline—barriers have been installed to prevent use by aircraft and road racers
Absolutely surreal place—it was built during the second world war to test aircraft but closed in the early 70s. All the buildings have long been demolished and all that’s left are broad expanses of tarmac surrounded by rape and corn fields. There isn’t a lot left of the runway centreline and barriers have been erected to prevent aircraft from landing. All in all, a bit spooky—very quiet and tarmac as far as you can see.
Elm Lane: Near the entrance to Wisley Airfield
Wisley Airfield runway: Standing near the eroded runway centreline—barriers have been installed to prevent use by aircraft and road racers
Wisley Airfield runway: Looking to the west
Wisley Airfield: Rape fields north of the runway
Wisley Airfield: Concrete area where hangars once existed
14 Apr 2012
How to: LHD/RHD tourist solution
This is the ‘official’ BMW document supplied to dealerships for masking out the area on the headlamp when driving in countries on the opposite side of the road. One problem—BMW don’t supply the adhesive film for doing so and the AA ones aren't designed for motorcycles.
After some digging on a few forums, and thanks to several responses, I believe the best choice for this is the type of vinyl used for colour-change wraps for cars as this should take the heat of the headlamp without damaging the plastic lens cover.
Here are a few simple steps for making one yourself—one that looks professional, won't ruin the lexan headlight and will come off easily once back in the UK (or other RHD country!).
- Find a car wrapping company and ask them for some scraps of (preferably matte) black vinyl designed for covering cars (this will take the heat of the headlight and come off cleanly later. I had good luck at Cover Wrapping on Wilcox Road, London SW8 who kindly gave me a generous measure of scrap vinyl at no charge.
- Download and print out the linked PDF—ensure that the print settings are set to print at 100% (not ‘fit to printable area’).
- Cut out the template and rough-cut a scrap of vinyl approximately the same size.
- Place the template black-side-up on the front of the vinyl and cut around it—repeat as necessary to have a few extras.
- When on the train/ferry to the continent, put your time to good use affixing the vinyl to your (clean and dry) headlight within the areas etched into the headlight itself (see the lower diagram in the BMW document to the left).
- Your’re finished! Now you can drive in the continent without risking a fine for glaring other motorists.
- To remove, the vinyl should peel off easily (use some sticky tape to pull up on the vinyl if necessary).
7 Apr 2012
Ride report: Wiltshire
Unfortunately everywhere had been sold out of premium for about a week thanks to an extremely irresponsible minister who suggested that there would be a tanker strike in time for Easter, and sparking public mayhem.
He even went so far as to recommend people fill jerrycans and store extra petrol at home, which is illegal in the UK—jerrycans are 5 litres and the law states that only 4 litres of petrol can be store at a residence, distributed between two 2-litre containers.
Filled with regular petrol, I set off to Wiltshire to ride some byways near Salisbury. I'd plotted my route using Google maps cross-referenced with the Wiltshire County website. I plugged the starting point into the TomTom and heading down the M3, over towards Stonehenge where I briefly ended up in convoy with an R1200GS and another F800GS, and finally to Salisbury.
I thanked him and said I'd have a look. It hadn't rained for quite some time so the byway was hard packed dirt. I switched off the ABS (which is useless off road)—it was indeed rough but I took it slowly and eventually it smoothed out. The byway went parallel to Salisbury Race Course and carried on over several crossroads.
Towards the end, it descended steeply downhill, with logs buried to keep the dirt from washing out in the rain. Standing on the pegs, it was a good workout for both me and the bike going over the logs, dropping up to a foot each time. The weather kept threatening to rain with a light drizzle here and there.
In retrospect, and after flagging it up on a few forums, it could have been a combination of the regular grade fuel being sucked up from the bottom of the tanks at the petrol stations, and the newly broken in exhaust system. Nothing was out of place with the drivability—indeed the engine has bigger balls than I ever would have expected. To the Starbucks-cruiser GS crowd—you're missing out on an absolutely cracking engine, get out there on the open road!
I got back on the byways in the hills near Ferne Hollow. These were a bit more challenging with several washed out areas where the ruts were more than a metre deep. I stopped for a few obligatory photos overlooking the rolling countryside. The showers were coming down more frequently now but I continued on.
Out the other end, and now lost, I discovered I was now in Tollard Royal, a charming little fairytale village in the middle of the hills. Out of byways, and with more rain coming down, I figured it was a sign for me to start heading back to London.
I programmed the TomTom to take me home and rode along the back roads for as long as I could before getting on the motorway and the inevitable downpour. The thermometer was showing a balmy 7.5°C and I had the heated grips on full power. After 45 minutes of rain chucking down, it subsided just in time for me to exit into a motorway services area to have a coffee and warm up.
Here I discovered an oddity. Waitrose, our somewhat posh supermarket chain, have 'Welcome Break' branded shops in many of the services areas. I don't know why this struck me as odd, perhaps that it seemed out of place in these unsavoury surroundings to see aisles of gleaming groceries in expensive, well-designed packaging, begging to be bought at inflated motorway prices.
I say 'unsavoury' because there always seem to be multiple copies of the same noisy family at all of them—mum in a shapeless jumper, dad in trackies, skinny son pissed off about something and hollering about it, and chunky daughter hating the world. Everywhere I've been in the world, I've come across this same clone family in these surroundings. Perplexing.
Getting back to London, I began to wish I'd delayed my journey home a bit longer. Back to the same old traffic and inattentive drivers. Familiar but loathsome. London was not designed for motorbiking pleasure.
It's funny how the memories of the cold and rain were nearly forgotten by the time I got home, replaced by a sense of accomplishment for actually having got out of the flat for a thoroughly enjoyable and fantastic day.
What a waste it would have been if I'd subsided to the dodgy sky and gone back under the duvet.
4 Apr 2012
Anger management
So I’m riding to work this morning, stopped at a traffic light, waiting to go right. It turns green and I start moving off—a bicycle commuter (pretentiously kitted in full Tour de France garb) flies through the just-turned-red traffic light on the crossroad. He has his mobile phone in his right hand and is fiddling with it (texting? calling mum? updating foursquare?)…
I carry on, now on the same road as the cyclist. I swerve to avoid hitting him as he swings into my lane to go around a double-decker without looking, mobile phone still in hand. He seems completely unaware that he has nearly gone into the side of me.
So far, quite typical. Not worth my time or energy to react. By now I’m about 150m past him and move over to merge into the queue to turn left up the next road. As I slow, filtering between the lanes (as I’m legally entitled to do in this country), scoping out a suitable space between the cars, the gates of hell open up to the sound of a harpy’s scream as the cyclist starts hollering at me during his attempt to squeeze between me and the cars I’m merging with.
“YOU CAN’T DO THAT!!” he bellows like a bull being castrated without anaesthetia. I resisted the urge to acknowledge him. With anger management issues like his, there is little point to a response of any sort.
He continues on, nearly forcing a poor woman on another bicycle into the cars in the other lane, and jumps the next light before it turns green.
It’s this particular flavour of cyclist who gives a bad name to the other, law-abiding cyclists on the roads. The ‘holier than thou’, ‘rules don’t apply to me because the world is out to get me’, ‘chip on my shoulder the size of Everest’ type of cyclist.
So I ponder—why are cyclists not required to sit a theory test of the highway code like everyone else on the roads? At a minimum. Maybe it’s just me, but I’d rather see all road users licensed and registered. Make it free, to keep the whingers happy.
Back to our Lance Armstrong wannabe… Get the aggro under control, mate, before you have a stroke. And contrary to anyone else’s opinion, no one looks good in spandex. No one.
Tosser.
31 Mar 2012
In photos: The Devil's Punchbowl
I'm completely out of practice riding off paved roads at the minute so I ventured out to the Devil's Punchbowl near Hindhead UK. The byway started easy, further up I encountered 2–3 foot deep ruts from run-off when it rains, then a few steep hills with sharp rocks on soft sand... Nothing for a seasoned rider I'm sure, but I've not been off the tarmac for nearly a decade and it was an eye-opener just how out of practice I am...
Highfield Lane: Byway out of Thursley
Highfield Lane: Fork in the byway after coming out of Thursley
Highfield Lane: View from the right fork
Devil’s Punchbowl: View from the byway
Devil’s Punchbowl: A place to take in the view
Punchbowl Lane: Out the other side
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