Full Power, full speed ahead!

Two years ago this week I passed my Motorcycle test, on Henry my plucky little CG125, resulting in my first real ride of Sylvie, my lovely Suzuki SV650 in her restricted form. Two years on and I have been riding around on a restricted bike, been touring with full panniers and have taken many friends for a blast up the road.

So how is it to ride a full power SV650S with a handle bar conversion?

Can I start the engine now please?

There is only one word that fits Sylvie in her unrestricted form, beautiful! I am however once again back on the learning curve and this time it is a little easier. Well it was, then Carol said those word that involve great power... "Have a go on Noreen!" she said...

Right a bit, left a bit... Eek, too much power!

Riding a full power muscle bike is a revelation, but what really shines out is that there is a sense of menace with a bike this powerful, the sort of menace that lurks deep inside, the sort that wants to twist that throttle hard and sprint down the road at super speed... Me naughty? Never!

A perfect track stand, utterly still, the rider in perfect balance with machine!

So with the full power ECU back in place and the 33BHP unit sat in an envelope ready to post off to a person on the SV forum, it was time for a ride. Shame it was so damn cold.

OK, but I am not riding your bike back home!

Yes, good old Sand Bay here in Weston, a place we came when we brought Sylvie to her new home for the very first time, back in the days when a 125cc Bike scared the life out of me.

Through the mists of time, we can see Jayne in 2008!

I can nearly ride a bike me!

Now with us both on full power bikes at last, Carol no longer has to hang around at the back waiting for me to catch up. Although, in all fairness to the fabulous Sylvie, even restricted she was able to make good time on her trips out. So now I have to start learning again how to ride my bike and as a full power bike she is just awesome. So for a training ride with the wife, we headed out to Blagdon to buy some food for Alby the Barnowl. With two frozen chicks strapped to the back of Noreen, we got ready to ride home and then the heavens opened.

Got there safe, time to buy some Alby dinner.

Here comes the rain

Jayne enjoying British spring time

The ride home was awesome and watching Carol disappear into the distance reminds of just how far I have come and how far I still want to achieve. Learning to ride a bike well is not something that can be rushed with a five day training course, it is about learning skills, building experience and getting through the mistakes. Riding well takes practice and it takes training, so if I had to do my time again, I would still do it the same way. If you are about to start riding a bike, do it my way and really enjoy the learning. Every bike I have ridden so far has been an awesome place to be sat, be it Henry the Honda CG125, Agnes the Yamaha XJ400 or My dear Sylvie the Suzuki SV650S. Maybe one day when my skills are a little more refined I can enjoy the experience of taking Noreen the Kawasaki ZRX1100 for a ride, but that wont happen until I am ready and for that there is no rush.

Thank you Carol for all of your patience, training and advice, all of it was greatly appreciated. 

Do you remember your first time?

It felt slightly dirty, a little bit taboo and then it made me squeal with ecstasy, the chap who took my cherry chatted to me for a while as the heat of excitement dissipated and then we did it again. 

Yeah, my first ever ride on a bike was with a dear friend of mine on the back of his CB250 Super Dream. The bike was slow, heavy and under powered, but it was a bike and we were free to ride where ever we wanted. We clocked up hundreds of miles and even attended a rally together. That was nearly twenty years ago and I had forgotten about it until very recently.

What reminded me was something that happened to me on Friday, or rather happened to some one else with me. I was working in a small town near Bristol and took a ride over on the SV due to the Yam still being a paper weight in the garage.

The support worker I was teamed with on this day was a young woman called Rosie, just into her twenties and she is lovely, very gentle and brilliant with our lad. However, upon telling her that I was going to offer her a lift home, she squealed and danced around the house, which made our lad smile and laugh, before giving her a hug.

So at the end of our day, having enjoyed some great art and even some cooking, Rosie started to get ready to go. I gave her some spare gear that I had brought with me, which only just fitted her due to me being tall and chubby and her being shorter and a lot thinner, the joy of age and then we were ready to go.

Now I am not averse to nubile young women holding onto me, but I will admit that this was cool for a different reason. She giggled and laughed as she got comfortable on the pillion pad before I pressed the go buttons. I swear to you that she screamed all the way down the drive way and giggled all the way to the first turn. I was being very gentle and was giving her time to get used to how a bike feels. All I could hear was excited giggling as we gently headed up the road.

Our first stop was where she phoned the home of her next client. she told them to look out for her on my bike. The client was not amused, she wanted a go on the bike too! So we headed off into the hills and made our way to the clients house. At one point we entered a section of road that has national speed limit signs and the car in front of us was travelling at barely 40. It just required a little over take and so I nipped out and back in again making progress past the slow moving car. My friend on the back was giggling and whooping as we ambled past.

Finally we arrived at the clients house, a young woman who we both know well and really enjoy working with. Technically I was finished for the day, Rosie was about to start a night shift, but just going back home seemed boring. Our clients was a little jealous of Rosie because she has been desperate for a ride on the bike ever since she first met me, how could I refuse?

Working with adults who have learning difficulties and physical disabilities is both very challenging and very rewarding work, but it is work I really enjoy. My friend and I helped our client put on her bike gear and checked her new helmet before going outside and starting the bike. She climbed on the back and we both made sure that she knew how to tell me to stop if she needed to get off. Then I pulled away and very gently performed a full circle on the road outside her house, thank the town planner for the extra wide vehicle turning area.

My new pillion hugged me tightly from behind and was looking over my right shoulder to see where we were going, I knew that she was a little scared, but she would never show it to her housemate or us support workers. So at gentle pace we set off for a short ride around town. She loved it. As we were coming home and coming across the motorway fly over, we watched a black unmarked Police Car, come racing up the slip way with blue flashing lights and tare off in pursuit of a badly driven Landrover Disco!

Once back home our client jumped off, she was in a completely different mood to the quiet, with drawn mood that we found her in. Her face was all smiles, she was bouncing along and filled with joy, just like my friend Rosie. Two very different women, with very different places in the world, now joined in a common experience of adventure.

Rosie will be having a lift again when we work together next, she loved the bike and maybe one day she will get a bike of her own. Our client though is another story, she will never be allowed to ride her own bike on the roads due to her disability, but I do not see why this should stop her having fun. So once we hit summer and the local bike nights start up again, I will be picking her up and bringing her over, so she can have a proper ride out, she can see lots of other bikes and she can meet other bikers. I know that she wants to do this and I know that she is hugely excited by the idea.

Damn, I love my job and I love riding my bike, I love it even more when the two things are combined. So folks, if any of you happen to bump into me at a bike event and I have a young woman in my care, don't be shy or dismissive of her because of her disability, she is just as much a biker as the rest of us.

Catching up with bestest friends

Another adventure for you lovely folks to read through, but feel free to slap my wrists because I have been some what slack in getting this one up on the board.

The Last Bank Holiday of August 2010 was a special day for us because I had arranged to meet my lovely and dear fiend Rachel in Exeter and due to me being a bit behind the schedule, I had forgotten it was Bank Holiday, so I got to bring Carol along too, the first time we have been a long way on Sylvie together in ages. Now due to a late night on Sunday on Monday morning we had to get up a little later than we would have liked, but when you have a bike, you don't have to worry about traffic so much. So an extra hour of sleep was not a problem really.

The journey down was smooth and we held a good pace considering the volume of traffic on the road, but it was a full speed screaming speed thrill type affair. This was due to a small amount of clutch slip that Sylvie had, now I had adjusted the clutch a couple of weeks before, but on 33BHP, I did not notice it slipping at all. With both of us on board and back up to full power again, The clutch was breaking out a little, so once in Exeter, it was out with the tools and a quick two minute adjustment before the journey home.

Fixing the clutch in Exeter St Davids Car park

Now safely parked up in Exeter we just had to wait for the arrival of my dear friend Rachel, being slightly early, we had time to chill and watch the world passing by. Some of the rail passengers were complaining that the trains were heavily delayed again, the joy of being a biker now is that I never have to rely on trains ever again!

Then right on time, Rachel came out of the station, looking frankly beautiful. I have not see her for a while and I missed my friend. There is nothing like the feeling of hugging a special friend and we hugged for ages. Carol was next and then it was time to find a cafe in the city centre. Walking up the hill in glorious sunshine chatting like we had seen each other only yesterday and with me reminded why I love my friends so much. Our stop turned out to be a Pasty shop and while we had lunch we shared news and gossip, none of which I can share here!

After lunch a constitutional walk was needed, despite carrying heavy motorcycle kit and as usual, me not knowing quite where we were going. It was wonderful though and as Rachel and I laughed, talked or just enjoyed the scenery, Carol enjoyed taking the photos as she always does. In case anyone is interested, Carol is a great photographer, with a real talent with her camera. If you want great quality photos, give her a call.

After a lovely walk along the river and over the railway lines, we stopped for a cuppa in the hotel bar by the station. Now to be kind, we would call the bar manager eccentric, but he was nice enough, if a little strange, however, being descended upon by us was probably enough to freak him out a bit. Again, more chat and more gossip was shared and again, none of it will be repeated here.

Alas, after a couple of hours, Rachel had to head back to Plymouth and we had to head home too. So we walked back to the station and shared hugs. I made a promise not to leave it so long next time and gave Rachel an open invitation to come and see us when ever she wants and then she was gone and I must admit that I felt a little sad that she was gone. I miss my bestest friend and love her greatly.

The journey home was somewhat slower than the journey down, traffic was bad and even we got slowed by congestion. However, the rude bitch in the blue car who pulled over into our path as we filtered through got a telling off and a mean stare from Carol. She did stop though to tell the guy with the boat on a trailer that part of his load had come loose and was rubbing on the road and then at last we hit the A370 and home, both of us had sore bottoms and aching backs from the ride, but we had both enjoyed it greatly.

To Carol, thank you for riding us so smoothly and safely, although 30MPH on the motorway feels wrong ona sports bike. To Rachel, it was so lovely to see you, my beautiful friend. I was sorry to see you looking a little sad, but with a heart as gentle and loving yours, that sadness will pass soon enough.

Filtering or how I got there dead quick...

Just me today sadly, poor Carol had to go to work and I had a job interview in Bristol, so although she was not with me physically, she was with me in spirit and here is why.

I took Sylvie to Bristol this morning so I could get to my interview with a company called Mantra, this involved a quick dash up the M5 to Bristol, a quick skoot along the A4 and a sudden stop in a car Park in Baldwin Street. This was all undertaken before nine AM this morning and it was a pure joy to be up and riding at that time of the day. I wont lie to you and tell you that the roads were empty, because they really were not, but it was so cool, the day's heat had not yet risen and the sun was not yet at it's zenith.

Getting from the flat to the motorway was an unusual adventure for me in that I chose a route, found my way there and did not hit traffic until right up until the turning onto the A370. Once in the standstill traffic though, I just filtered slowly through. Carol taught me that to filter is a dangerous and cunning art form and I actually really enjoyed it. I got to the front of the traffic queue and turned onto the motorway.

Riding on the Motorway is not particularly exciting, it is windy, pretty straight and too fast to actually be fun. Riding B Roads at thirty to forty mile per hour is technically more demanding than riding on a motorway at motorway speed (I say motorway speed, because they are not always 70MPH) and considerably more fun to boot. I am still learning how Sylvie corners and to feel her dropping in on one side and then swooping over to the other is exhilarating and you do not need speed to feel that. Maybe this is because I am still learning how to ride her, but Sylvie at lower speeds is a beautiful bike to have control over.

The Motorway quickly gave up the miles to Sylvie's wheels and then the traffic bunched up, with the inside and second lane of the Avonmouth fly over being full of trucks. I managed to get into the second lane and saw my exit, but it was blocked by trucks who were nose to tail, there was barely enough room between them for a Rizla paper, let alone Sylvie and I. So we sailed past our Exit at the great speed of sixty eight miles per hour and headed up the road to the next exit to turn around. It added an extra four miles to our journey and only a few minutes.

The A4 was clogged from the outset for us and once again Sylvie's beautiful slow speed handling came to the forefront as we slowly  filtered through the traffic. Filtering is an art form and having followed Carol, I know that I still have a lot to learn. Today though I aced it and managed to filter slowly and surefootedly through the slow moving or still traffic. At one point I caught up with the ZZR600 that had over taken me on the entry to the A4 and kept pace with the Blue haired rider until I managed to pass them. Filtering is about confidence and taking an opportunity that exists for less than a second. Slipping through gently and with ease. I had one moment when I decided to let discretion be the better part of valour on the road going past "At Bristol", when a truck needed extra room to turn around a bus, but I soon passed the obstruction and was once again on my way.

Once into the centre of Bristol I headed around to Baldwin Street and found a Bike park with a nice steel railing to lock Sylvie too. I do not like the idea of leaving Sylvie unprotected in a busy city and so she had disk locks front and rear as well as a chain and a D-Lock. She also has her steering lock and her alarm just to keep filthy thieving hands away from her. Not sure I mentioned it, but I love my girl Sylvie.

Then came the interview. Forewarned is forearmed and Carol did some digging into Mantra Marketing for me, because she is good at stuff like that. The job advert I had applied for was looking for a Media Sales Executive, sounds posh does it not? The job they interviewed me for was selling door to door... You know those dodgy types who ring your door bell, then stick their foot in the door so that you cannot get rid of them, well that is the job. I was less than impressed. The sting comes in the pay packet, if you work really hard and walk an entire street, knocking on every door and get rebutted at every step. You earn nothing. If you find a little old lady at home and intimidate her into buying some rubbish she does not want, you earn fifteen pounds.

The people at the interview all have a similar look, keen, confused and young. Well except the guys who are obviously out of work sales men in their fifties. The woman interviewing me was hideously pretty, one of those people who should be beautiful, blonde, petite and with a big smile. I felt like I was swimming with a shark and a hungry one at that. She apologised to me for wasting my time and wished me bon voyage home. I left that odd place and was stopped outside by a young man who had the distinct hippy look to him. "Excuse me I am looking for the Krishna centre?" Oh yeah, the same office and phone number as Mantra... Scary.

I took Sylvie over to see a dear friend to Carol and I, a lovely chap and engineering genius known as Wayne.  Seeing him in the garden working his magic on his ZX10 project is a joy to watch, but today he was working on his Dad's Fazer 600. Yesterday he hit some thing big and hard in the road and damaged both wheels beyond repair. So he took them out, took off the disks and ordered new ones. It was a shame to see him looking so down. Luckily it is hard to keep a spirit like Wayne down and he was soon happily playing with Titanium bolts for his race bike.

The ride back to my beloved Carol was very nice and took in the road between Bristol and Clevedon, a lovely winding road with a forty limit, heaven in tarmac form. I had ridden this road a few days before, but had got stuck behind a large articulated lorry, which was in turn stuck behind a large old tractor. No chance of filtering past those two on that day. Today though the road was clear and swift. I did not hit the speed limit of because the corners are rather tight and with out knowing what is on the other side of them, I would hate to go flying round and find a traffic queue. However, I was still faster than anything else on the road and was only caught when the rode finally entered Clevedon itself and more traffic queues.

A quick blast down the motorway and I was soon in the arms of my beloved Carol. I was tired, I was aching from the ride and I was heart sore at being apart from her. My girl is beautiful and her smile is enough to make flowers want to blossom or birds want to soar. She was waiting for me and she treated me to the lunch of royalty, a Quarter pound cheese burger and chips. We sat together in the sunshine, holding hands and basking in each others love. Did I mention that I love my Girl?

In truth I love both of my girls, Carol is my life partner, my soul mate and my friend and Sylvie is our bike. With both of these gifts from the gods in my life, it is hard to be unhappy for long, even after a wasted interview.