Thank you for my friends

When I heard that one of my very closest friends had been involved in a car accident, my first thought was to her well being and hoping that she had not been hurt. Remembering back to when another dear friend of Curious Adventures had a nasty bike crash some time ago, my fears for dear Jan were somewhat serious. Fortunately Jan climbed from her ruined car almost unscathed, a miracle for which we are thankful.

So once she was home safe and wine had been drunk, we planned on how to retrieve the bits that she had been forced to leave in the knackered car. So last Monday I got my bike out of the garage and picked up Jan from her flat and we set out for the dealership that was assessing Jan’s car. After an hour we admitted defeat and stopped, pulling over into a safe place where Jan phoned the dealer. After a quick chat we rode home. The dealership had relocated from Weston Super Mare to Bristol. The rain had soaked us both.

On Tuesday I had a day with another dear friend which involved tasting Japanese fast food as a celebration of his Birthday. The evening passed joyously and upon my return home I pondered a trip to Bristol the following morning with Jan. I borrowed Carol’s Sat Nav unit and picked up Jan once again. This time we set out for Bristol, heading down the A370 towards the motorway. As we exited the roundabout and swooped into the sixty miles per hour speed limit I accelerated my precious Sylvie and we tore down the road towards the next roundabout, as our speed dropped we entered our lane and I brought the bike to a halt at the roundabout and waited for a safe moment to pull out. As we pulled away and curved into the corner the back tyre gave way and went completely flat. I managed to stop the bike safely and Jan and I were forced to push the bike to the safety of the side of the road.

Once parked safely in the supermarket car park, I phoned our friends Steve and Sue of Bridge Motor Works and requested a pick up and repair. Despite being swamped with work, Steve collected us in his fantastic works truck and loaded Sylvie into the back of the truck. She was carefully strapped down and Jan and I climbed into cab of Steve’s truck. We then unloaded from the truck once we had got back to Steve and Sue’s workshop. Sylvie was sat on a paddock stand and her back wheel removed, the hole was located and worryingly it was almost too large to repair. However we were lucky and Steve was able to patch us up. By the time we were ready to go again it had got too late and so we retired for the evening.

Jackie the dog, Sue & Steve our rescuers.

Thursday dawned bright and dry, so Jan and I decided to set out once again. The injury to my shoulder was now horribly painful due to the amount of exercise I had undertaken trying to ride my bike, so we decided to take Jan’s van. The engine purred into life and we prepared to go. I stepped out into the street and waved to Jan to back the van out. The gear box screamed and growled as she tried to get it into gear. The van resolutely refused to move, the clutch was completely unable to disengage the drive from the gear box making it impossible to change or even engage a gear. Defeated once again, we phoned Steve and Sue and arranged for the van to be picked up and repaired. This was after I spent two hours trying to adjust the clutch cable which was at the limit of its adjustment. That evening we retired to Scallys and played cards.

They are good Folks at Bridge Motors.

Friday dawned once again bright and sunny, a perfect spring morning and I was just about able to climb out of bed and climb into my bike gear. Jan was ready bright and early and finally we had run out of time, after Friday the car would be taken away and crushed. So once again we pulled Sylvie out of the garage, loaded up the tank bag and set off from Bristol. The pain in my arm, hand, shoulder and neck was horrible before we even passed the point of our puncture.

We passed over the motorway and descended onto the A370 to Congresbury, we had a lovely ride on quiet roads and I managed to keep just below the speed limit. Finally we hit the limits of Bristol and once again I pulled over to a quick rest and to switch on Carol’s Sat Nav. Once the Sat Nav was on, we promptly got lost and went in completely the wrong direction. After a hundred meters of travel, the small screen suddenly flipped as it worked out which direction we were moving in and by then it was too late to turn around, we were committed to a road of heavy traffic.

We stopped for another rest a short while later after nearly running a red light. The light had changed to amber as we approached and I had pulled on the brakes but with our momentum I had to pull a little harder, this made the bike dip her nose down and Jan slid forwards on her seat a little. As she slid forwards, she slid into me and I was pushed into the fuel tank, however we were still moving forward and I had to brake a little harder, which in turn caused Jan to slide a little harder into me! We stopped at the lights in fits of giggles and Jan readjusted her seating position!

Our break was in a lay by behind a resting coach, we spent a couple of minutes chatting as I rested my arm and shoulder before we remounted and set off once again. From there it was a few more minutes before we were pulling up outside the dealership. We parked up and wandered inside before being directed back outside and into the car park. Sat in the far corner was Jan’s Mazda, looking almost fine, yet as we drew closer I started to see the damage and was suddenly shocked and grateful for the safety of my friend.

One crunched car

The car was crooked, shorter on one side that it was on the other. The drivers door was staved in and firmly jammed closed. The drivers seat was stuck fast and would not move back or forward no matter how hard we pushed it. The rear door would not close due to the bent chassis and the drivers window would not fit in the door frame anymore. How Jan managed to avoid being hurt I just do not know and when she showed me how she had to crawl from the front to the rear of the car to exit though the left hand rear passenger door.

Jan and her protector

We cleaned out the car of the various things that gather in a car when it is used every day, empty bottles, a few biscuits and a duvet cover! We also found the few things that we needed like the CDs and the little mascots that we decorate our cars with. It was an emotional moment and then we climbed back onto Sylvie and headed our way back home.

In the day to day running of our lives do we ever think about those we hold dear to us? When I heard that one of my most beloved friends was in an accident, my response was of worry and fear. Seeing the car confirmed that I had been right to worry. On the way home I was thankful for the safety of my friend and when I needed a rest so we popped into see Wayne, another person I am thankful for.  

Be safe out there folks, the roads that we love can be a dangerous playground.

What a day

You may well have noticed that of late, Curious Adventures have been more curious and less adventurous and there is a reason for this, Jayne (yes OK, me) has a knackered shoulder! A knackered shoulder that makes riding her bike rather hard and painful work, after all think about how your bike steers. With counter steering, as a rider you push the side away from you where you want to go, hence the name of counter steering. Well, for those of you not familiar with the technique, please do not try steering the opposite way you want to go, it will result in you crashing painfully into what ever is not where you want to go! Counter steering is done by placing a gentle pressure upon the bar, not actually turning the bars, it works by effectively changing the push on the front wheel and banking the bike over. Now I am sure that there people reading this who have a far better understanding of the physics of this technique than I do and I would love to read how it really works, but for now that will do. Why did I mention it? Well because I just can’t do it at the moment.

So with a knackered shoulder I have been forced to endure all manner of helpful medical staff from our beloved NHS prodding, poking, pulling or pushing my bits and pieces. Most recently I have endured needles shoved deep into my muscle tissue, intense massage of my neck and exercises involving rubber bands. None of this has worked. The exercises have made it worse, the massage made it worse and as for the needles, do you really need to ask? Oh alright, yes they made it worse. All of which brings me to MRI scans. Magnetic Resonance Imagery is a fantastic science where using a combination of fantastic physics, breath taking biology and a man with a bad hair cut, the medics can have a look about inside your body with out having to slice into it like a crusty loaf!

The down side though is that an MRI scanner costs an absolute fortune and each scan costs a smaller but still significant fortune. So they are not handed out to just anyone and today I had an appointment to see if I justified having a scan. Well, that is supposed to be what today was about.

So Carol and I set off this afternoon at close to half past twelve, giving us an hour to make a journey that should only take twenty minutes. Our first stop was for fuel because my bike was showing a worrying fuel light having driven a pitiful 87 miles since my last fuel stop. With the pump droning away I filled both my and Carol’s bikes and then went and paid up the ridiculous sum wanted for a thimble full of go-go juice. Back outside, when we switched on Noreen  and tried to start the engine, it resolutely sat there refusing to burn the thimble full of petrol we had just dripped into it. We tried again and nothing happened. So we kept on trying, Carol wiggled wires and pushed and pulled switches and buttons, but still nothing. Time was counting down, forty minutes to the appointment.

We looked at each other, Noreen was going no where, Carol shook her head angrily and had a gentle word in the bikes ear. Now let’s be honest here, when Carol has a gentle word in your ear, it is wise that you listen. The bike did just that and with another push of the button, it roared into life, with just a couple of sets of traffic lights and couple of roundabouts to get through before hitting the motorway. That was until we discovered that the A370 was running at speeds only seen by your average snail! We finally got to the motorway, twenty minutes until my appointment. We raced off down the slip way and joined the busy traffic and began to make progress towards Clevedon, half way there, Noreen started to do odd things. 

Her rear light started to flash, but not in a way that is easy to explain. The rear light of the ZRX has two bulbs and they started to flash alternately, one side and then the other. The light then flicked off and relights. It flashes some more and then flashes off again. As we approached the Clevedon exit it became apparent that Noreen also had another problem, her rear tyre had decided to let all of it’s air out. We rolled to the top of the slip way, turned on to the road into the town and headed down to the roundabout, where we discovered that the tyre had totally deflated. Unfortunately, the car behind us was not completely understanding of our predicament and hooted angrily. With no real choice, we rode carefully around the roundabout, Noreen also decided that at that moment it was a perfect time to run on only three cylinders! Ten minutes until my appointment.

Fortunately there is a Shell garage just around the corner from where we pulled over, which is why we made our way there, only to discover that it had closed and was being renovated! The workmen there guided us away to another garage, but we just did not have time. So we limped Noreen, running on three cylinders and a flat tyre to the hospital. Five minutes until my appointment! We arrived, parked up and ran like buggery to get there on time and made it to reception at twenty nine minutes and thirty seconds past the hour.

The medical stuff was dealt with I walked out of the room, tears in my eyes, an intense burning pain in my shoulder and a worried Carol on my arm. Back in the car park, Noreen was sat on a flat tyre. We rolled it down the hill and out of the car park and phoned the RAC. Following a  quick chat with the call centre and we settled down for an afternoon of waiting on the pavement. Carol bought a local newspaper that took us less than ten minutes to read and we sat there, bored. Finally after an hour and twenty minutes we had a phone call from a manger at the RAC call centre who apologised for the long wait that we had enjoyed, but promised faithfully that a truck would be with us as soon as possible.

Another forty minutes passed, Carol and I considered learning to juggle to pass the time, but we were saved from this torture by Martyn, the truck driver, who phoned to ask where we were. It was great news, our Knight in orange overalls was coming, but coming from Gloucester, he had a journey time of another forty minutes. Carol and I sat there, bored, we even considered taking up knitting! Finally though, he arrived and we were able to load Noreen onto the back of the fabulous RAC truck. Martyn himself was a jolly chap and chatted all of the way home, Carol rode Sylvie back home and got the garage ready to receive a poorly Noreen. Jayne got to ride in another fabulous truck and finally at nearly seven in the evening, exhausted, Carol and I walked through our front door and sat down. It had been another curious adventure. 

Show me the way to go home, I'm tired and I want to go to bed!

I want my bike back!

No bike looks good on the back of a truck.

The urge to ride her home like that was so hard to ignore.