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General Category => General Discussion => Topic started by: Streak on February 28, 2012, 10:08:52 PM

Title: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on February 28, 2012, 10:08:52 PM
Do you have a nice quote about motorcycling? Post it here (no rubbish or derogatory crap please).



Sometimes it takes a whole tankful of fuel before you can think straight.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on February 29, 2012, 07:15:41 PM
My mind starts to clear after half a tank!

Sometimes it takes a whole tankful of fuel before you can think straight.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on February 29, 2012, 07:24:55 PM
Quote for Wednesday!

Keep your bike in good repair: motorcycle boots are not comfortable for walking. ~Author Unknown
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on February 29, 2012, 08:57:23 PM
A bad ride is always better than a good walk! :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 29, 2012, 09:21:51 PM
When was the last time you just got up and went for a drive? Not to anywhere not for anything, just for drive. You see, motorcyclists do it all the time, so why don't human beings? Jeremy Clarkson- Top Gear
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 29, 2012, 09:24:57 PM
Choppers are to motorcycling as World Championship Wrestling is to sport.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: bluehonda on March 02, 2012, 11:37:13 AM
 :blu13
Ride like your life depends on it :thumb
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 02, 2012, 10:57:02 PM
"I try to have a different relationship with the bike. I don't give it a name, but I always speak with it. I don't know if the other riders do the same. This is not only a piece of metal - there is a soul. The bike talks back too. But not with a voice, with the components" Valentino Rossi
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on March 05, 2012, 11:11:57 AM
"Old bikes don't leak oil - they ooze character"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on March 05, 2012, 12:36:02 PM
Remember when sex was safe and motorcycles were dangerous?"

Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 05, 2012, 08:17:12 PM
No-one can hear you scream when you're wearing a helmet.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 05, 2012, 10:33:44 PM
Panniers can never hold everything you want, but they can hold everything you need.


[except... if SWAMBO is coming for the ride]   :eek
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: scarp on March 06, 2012, 09:12:24 PM
I remember an interview with Barry Sheene in the 70's when he was still racing & the interviewer while pointing to the rear "ducktail" on his Suzuki said "what does the seat do?"
Barry straight up said "stops my arse from scraping on the back wheel"
Just stunned silence followed
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on March 06, 2012, 09:41:21 PM
 :rofl :rofl :rofl :rofl
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 06, 2012, 10:26:37 PM
Old bikes don't leak oil - they mark their territory.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Poppy Dave on March 06, 2012, 11:04:23 PM
I remember a old Honda ST1100 T shirt that read; "It's hard to be humble when you ride the best!"

 :bl11

Cheers  :beer

Kev

That sounds like something we should have on our shirts. :thumbsup
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Tipsy on March 07, 2012, 04:13:12 PM
 :wht11 py

Yep thats what its all about. :grin :grin :grin :grin :grin :grin :grin :runyay

Tipsy
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Poppy Dave on March 07, 2012, 07:46:15 PM
Yeah, We can have that too.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 07, 2012, 08:29:34 PM
I've got PMS. (Parked Motorcycle Syndrome)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 09, 2012, 12:05:59 AM
Don't know exactly where I am, don't know where I'm going, don't know when I'll get home, but damn, I'm making excellent time!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: sac468 on March 09, 2012, 08:57:34 AM
If you don't ride, You don't know!

I Agree, I Agree
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: sac468 on March 09, 2012, 08:58:29 AM
Live to ride, Ride to live
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 09, 2012, 08:39:13 PM
Make sure your've stopped before you get off.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on March 09, 2012, 10:07:12 PM
 "Faster, faster, faster, until the thrill of speed overcomes the fear of death..."

Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 12, 2012, 09:59:58 PM
If anyone ever rides up to you and says "Hold my beer and watch this!" for God's sake watch- it's gonna be worth it!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 14, 2012, 12:32:19 AM
Happiness is not around the corner, happiness IS the corner!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 14, 2012, 03:44:19 PM
Have you ever noticed?    Anybody going slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Tipsy on March 15, 2012, 08:49:02 AM
 :wht11 py

Keep Breathing and stay vertical  :grin

Tipsy
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: scarp on March 15, 2012, 08:50:54 AM
I OWE I OWE SO OFF TO WORK I GO
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 15, 2012, 09:28:52 AM
"If you love your motorcycle, let it go.
If it comes back to you, you just high-sided." -DragonValk
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 16, 2012, 10:04:59 PM
After you remove the 36 bolts from the access cover, you discover it was the wrong access cover.  After you replace the 36 bolts to the access cover, you discover you forgot the gasket.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: scarp on March 17, 2012, 09:20:50 AM
Has your pussy had my whiskers today?-Me
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 17, 2012, 05:32:45 PM
I heard about a bloke who put Harley stickers on his ST....
Of course, at fuel and lunch stops, inevitably some dude saunters over for a look and says "Wow! I've never seen that model of Harley before!"
John says, "Well, it's actually a custom I put together.. it has the best parts of the Honda ST and the best parts of the Harley."  "Really?
What parts are Harley?"  "The sticker," says John.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Dan on March 17, 2012, 09:31:30 PM
A good ride is one from which you get home safely.

A great ride is one where the bike does too.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 18, 2012, 12:00:51 PM
If you ride a motorcycle, you're eventually going to be killed on it. Your objective is to put that off long enough that you die of old age first.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 18, 2012, 02:26:35 PM
The older I get, the faster I was  :rofl
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 18, 2012, 02:30:36 PM
People are more violently opposed to fur than leather because it's safer to harass rich women than motorcycle gangs.
Alexei Sayle
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on March 18, 2012, 06:09:50 PM
You know your getting old when you reach the top of the ladder only to find it leaning against the wrong wall!! :o
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on March 18, 2012, 06:22:02 PM
Motorcycling is not, of itself, inherently dangerous. It is, however, extremely unforgiving of inattention, ignorance, incompetence, or stupidity."
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: scarp on March 18, 2012, 09:10:52 PM
People are more violently opposed to fur than leather because it's safer to harass rich women than motorcycle gangs.
Alexei Sayle
:)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on March 19, 2012, 11:07:39 AM
Oh so true, Allan. :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Dan on March 19, 2012, 11:50:44 AM
Far away is only far away if you don't go.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Whizz on March 19, 2012, 02:32:22 PM
When you're riding lead, don't spit
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Whizz on March 19, 2012, 02:34:10 PM
Q:- What do you call a cyclist who doesn't wear a helmet? 
A:- An organ donor. 

(David Perry)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Whizz on March 19, 2012, 02:36:32 PM
You only need two things when it comes to maintenance, WD40 and Gaffer Tape!

If it doesn't move and should, use the WD40
If it does move and shouldn't, use the Gaffer Tape
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 19, 2012, 07:29:59 PM
I only ride like this to piss you off  :spank
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 19, 2012, 07:32:58 PM
I'm not speeding, I'm qualifying  :p
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 19, 2012, 11:36:57 PM
Being shot out of a cannon will always be better than being squeezed out of a tube. That is why God made fast motorcycles.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on March 20, 2012, 08:05:24 AM
Biggles.....................one has to wonder where you're pulling all these quotes out of!! >:()
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Aj1300 on March 20, 2012, 07:10:38 PM
A bad ride is always better than a good walk! :bl11
I  had a bad ride one day, broken tib/fib and colar bone. 8 months off work, still having leg trouble. Shit I should of walked .can't even do that properly. Shit,shit again :|||| :cuss
Cheers Aj :blk13
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 20, 2012, 11:02:43 PM
Dad, when I grow up I want to ride motorbikes like you do."
"Son, you can't do both."
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 20, 2012, 11:03:47 PM
Biggles.....................one has to wonder where you're pulling all these quotes out of!! >:()

Now Grassy-arse.  No need to be coarse!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 21, 2012, 09:40:31 PM
You Never get TOO OLD to Ride, but, Not RIDING OFTEN makes you OLD!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 22, 2012, 02:24:52 PM
You've probably seen Harley riders with the bandanna across their mouths (bandannas are cool).
The only purpose I know of is that since it's against the rules for a cruiser rider to wear a full face helmet, they do that to protect their face from the wind a little.
The hankies are really for bugs, dust and to use as a band aid when they get smacked in the lips with a rock.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 23, 2012, 08:31:04 PM
I'm not speeding, I just look fast.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 23, 2012, 08:31:55 PM
My carbon footprint is bigger than yours
(Mainly for V8 drivers)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Dan on March 23, 2012, 09:27:54 PM
Dad, when I grow up I want to ride motorbikes like you do."
"Son, you can't do both."

 :rofl :rofl :rofl it's great being a bloke! 
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 23, 2012, 10:20:15 PM
Love is the feeling you have when you care about something as much as you do your motorcycle.
-Sonny Barger, founding member of Hell's Angels and author.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 24, 2012, 04:53:26 PM
Why do men get excited by a women dressed in leather?
Because she smells like a new car.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 24, 2012, 10:46:21 PM
If you really want to know what's going on, look five car lengths ahead  :)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 24, 2012, 10:48:32 PM
Never mistake horsepower for staying power.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 24, 2012, 10:52:37 PM
And to follow up on that...

Chrome won't get you home!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: saaz on March 25, 2012, 09:40:04 AM
"What the **** was that?"  (Anna Bligh)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 25, 2012, 12:26:15 PM
Rat bags on bikes are called  "Whizz bangs".... they whizz past you and bang into something.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Mitch on March 25, 2012, 05:36:18 PM
  HD, the best way to turn HP into noise!  :grin :grin
                       :blk13
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: scarp on March 26, 2012, 07:09:11 PM
Life is like a penis - simple, relaxed and hanging free . . ..
. .. It's women who make it hard !!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Whizz on March 26, 2012, 08:00:15 PM
Biggles?????  :well  :well  :nahnah
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 26, 2012, 09:31:47 PM
"Male menopause is a lot more fun than female menopause. With female menopause you gain weight and get hot flashes. Male menopause? You get to date young girls and ride motorcycles."
-- John Wayne
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 26, 2012, 10:25:47 PM
Yeay, yeah ...
I maybe slow, but you're behind me  :nahnah
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 26, 2012, 10:30:07 PM
I'm starting to loose track ...
Have we had this one?
Hardley Dangerous' don't leak oil - they ooze character  :p
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Mitch on March 27, 2012, 02:18:56 PM
 Don't ride faster than your guardian angel can fly  :-(((
                             :blk13
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 27, 2012, 06:31:34 PM
Danger is one thing. But danger plus extreme discomfort for long periods is quite another.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 27, 2012, 09:49:33 PM
When you're riding in front - don't spit  :wink1
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 28, 2012, 11:17:09 AM
"A motorcycle in the garage is the intellectual equivalent of a box buried in the back yard with $30,000 in cash and a Beretta in it."
Dan Walsh
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Dan on March 28, 2012, 12:03:17 PM
Ducati - making mechanics out of motorcyclists since 1946.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on March 28, 2012, 12:25:26 PM
From a BMW site.......

"Harley Davidsons have the unique ability to convert gasoline into noise without the side effect of horsepower...."

Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on March 28, 2012, 12:29:21 PM
"If you don't ride in the rain, you don't ride."

Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 28, 2012, 08:56:20 PM
forty two  :-++
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 28, 2012, 08:58:56 PM
Life is to short for traffic   8)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 28, 2012, 09:01:11 PM
forty two  :-++

Umm- RU quoting Douglas Adams?

"Don't Panic"  Your secret is safe.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 29, 2012, 11:09:26 AM
It's always windy when I ride.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 29, 2012, 10:20:59 PM
Umm- RU quoting Douglas Adams?
"Don't Panic"  Your secret is safe.

Yep !!!!! One of the cleverest men to ever grace that face of this planet.  :-++
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 29, 2012, 10:21:14 PM
Riding a motorcycle is not a matter of life or death,
it's much more important than that.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on March 30, 2012, 10:29:17 PM
Know when to stop  :wink1
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 30, 2012, 10:31:03 PM
That's all the motorcycle is, a system of concepts worked out in steel. ~Robert M. Pirsig, "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 31, 2012, 11:06:00 PM
Most motorcycle problems are caused by the nut that connects the handlebars to the saddle.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on April 01, 2012, 08:55:48 AM
Hey Biggles..................so are you telling me that I have more to look forward to than just riding my bike!!

"Male menopause is a lot more fun than female menopause. With female menopause you gain weight and get hot flashes. Male menopause? You get to date young girls and ride motorcycles."
-- John Wayne
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 01, 2012, 02:33:36 PM
Hey Biggles..................so are you telling me that I have more to look forward to than just riding my bike!!

Now I've seen your photo on the Ride Report, I can assure you that you might have filled your quota of options.   :crackup
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 01, 2012, 02:36:17 PM
Four wheels move the body. Two wheels move the soul.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on April 01, 2012, 02:56:57 PM
Bugger......maybe that's why I've been missing out!!

Hey Biggles..................so are you telling me that I have more to look forward to than just riding my bike!!

Now I've seen your photo on the Ride Report, I can assure you that you might have filled your quota of options.   :crackup
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 04, 2012, 12:00:05 AM
Midnight bugs taste best.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 04, 2012, 02:07:29 PM
A bike on the road is worth two in the shed  :rd13
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 04, 2012, 11:06:35 PM
You're the guy that'll be sneaking out of your bedroom at three o'clock in the morning to look at your bike. ~Paul Teutul, Sr., American Chopper, "Billy Joel"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Whizz on April 05, 2012, 01:43:01 PM
Yea verily!!  :thumbs :thumbs :thumbs

Amen

 :rofl :crackup
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 05, 2012, 05:26:28 PM
Burn rubber, not your soul, baby. ~Craig Fernandez and Reggie Bythewood, Biker Boyz
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 06, 2012, 01:39:17 PM
Patience is something you admire in the driver behind you and scorn in the one ahead. ~Mac McCleary
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 07, 2012, 10:36:03 AM
Remember folks, street lights timed for 60 km/h are also timed for 120km/h  :spank
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 07, 2012, 07:59:38 PM
Well-trained reflexes are quicker than luck.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Dan on April 07, 2012, 09:53:21 PM
Experience is something you gain just after you needed it.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: bluehonda on April 08, 2012, 06:10:32 AM
 : :bl11  The older I get the better I was.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 08, 2012, 11:51:02 AM
Don't argue with an 18-wheeler.



(or a B-Double)

or anything bigger than your bike!     :crazy
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 09, 2012, 11:08:21 PM
Maintenance is as much art as it is science.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 10, 2012, 10:32:03 PM
Sometimes the best communication happens when you're on separate bikes.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 11, 2012, 10:30:59 PM
Safety is a cheap and effective insurance policy.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on April 11, 2012, 10:54:51 PM
Prevention is far better than the cure.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 12, 2012, 07:36:01 AM
New guidelines for Alzhiemer's suffers:
The older you get the less road rules there are  :thumb
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 12, 2012, 06:03:52 PM
New guidelines for Alzhiemer's suffers:
The older you get the less road rules there are  :thumb

Thanks, that will be helpful (if I remember it).
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 12, 2012, 06:04:56 PM
I ride way too fast to worry about cholesterol.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 13, 2012, 09:04:50 PM
When in doubt, use full throttle. It may not improve the situation, but it will end the suspense  :eek
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 13, 2012, 10:04:53 PM

Two-lane blacktop isn't a highway - it's an attitude.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on April 13, 2012, 10:09:26 PM
Biggles..........everyone must know by now where you're pulling these quotes from..........you really must stop before you do youself an injury! : :crackup :rofl :crackup :rofl
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Whizz on April 14, 2012, 03:10:58 PM
For some there's therapy, for the rest of us there's motorcycles
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Whizz on April 14, 2012, 03:12:13 PM
Don't mess with old bikers...they don't just LOOK crazy!!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Whizz on April 14, 2012, 03:13:03 PM
Adventure before Dementia
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 14, 2012, 08:56:57 PM
If you ride like there's no tomorrow, there won't be.

 :p  Couch
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Whizz on April 15, 2012, 12:22:04 PM
Don't f**k with old bikers, they f**k back!! (although the version I saw didn't have the asterisks!)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on April 15, 2012, 01:17:02 PM
Goodness......whatever did they have in place of them?

Don't f**k with old bikers, they f**k back!! (although the version I saw didn't have the asterisks!)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Whizz on April 15, 2012, 02:06:50 PM
I'm sure I don't know, but it must mean something!  :eek :rofl
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 15, 2012, 11:52:50 PM
Accidents hurt - safety doesn't.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 16, 2012, 11:07:17 AM
There are old people who ride motorbikes
and there are motorbike riders who are old .
I prefer the second bunch  :beer
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 16, 2012, 11:20:47 PM
98% of all Harleys ever sold are still on the road. The other 2% made it home.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 18, 2012, 12:30:48 AM
I believe many Harley guys spend more time revving their engines than actually riding anywhere; I sometimes wonder why they bother to have wheels on their bikes.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: temala on April 18, 2012, 09:14:06 AM
Sometimes I ride my bike and think, sometimes I just ride my bike.....http://ozstoc.com/Smileys/default/dr13.gif (http://ozstoc.com/Smileys/default/dr13.gif)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 18, 2012, 10:57:15 PM
Ever since the young men have owned motorcycles, incest has been dying out. ~Max Frisch
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: pault on April 19, 2012, 09:44:13 AM
there is no gravity, the whole world sucks, except when riding
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 19, 2012, 10:03:37 PM
You know, "Motorcycle Diaries" has no incredible stories, no sudden plot twists, it doesn't play that way. It's about recognizing that instance of change and embracing it. ~Gael Garcia Bernal
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 20, 2012, 04:55:31 PM
Chrome won't get you home
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 20, 2012, 09:58:58 PM
You start the game with a full pot o’ luck and an empty pot o’ experience...
The object is to fill the pot of experience before you empty the pot of luck.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 21, 2012, 10:55:33 PM
Never trade the thrills of living for the security of existence.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 23, 2012, 03:20:10 PM
When was the last time you just got up and went for a drive? Not to anywhere not for anything, just for drive. You see, motorcyclists do it all the time, so why don't human beings? Jeremy Clarkson- Top Gear
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 23, 2012, 08:30:05 PM
To ride or not to ride... what a stupid question!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 24, 2012, 08:01:42 PM
Tunnels are amplifiers for motorbikes !!!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Tackleberry on April 24, 2012, 09:18:54 PM
To ride or not to ride... what a stupid question!

To ride or not to ride... where is the question!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 24, 2012, 10:57:25 PM
"I try to have a different relationship with the bike. I don't give it a name, but I always speak with it. I don't know if the other riders do the same. This is not only a piece of metal - there is a soul. The bike talks back too. But not with a voice, with the components" Valentino Rossi
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 25, 2012, 08:52:51 PM
I know the voices aren't real,
but jeez they make a lot of sense  8)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 25, 2012, 08:56:28 PM
A cold hamburger can be reheated quite nicely by strapping it to an exhaust pipe and riding forty miles.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 26, 2012, 07:26:41 PM
Yes, in fact I DO own the road  :well
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 26, 2012, 08:47:22 PM
If you really want to know what’s going on, watch what’s happening at least five vehicles ahead.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 27, 2012, 10:54:18 PM
If the person in the next lane at the stoplight rolls up the window and locks the door, validate their view of life by snarling at them.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 28, 2012, 09:29:16 PM
If she changes her oil more than she changes her mind, follow her.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 29, 2012, 01:01:45 PM
If you want to get somewhere before sundown, you can’t stop at every tavern.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on April 29, 2012, 08:50:58 PM
If Harley Davidson made a plane,
would you fly in it ???
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 29, 2012, 08:51:49 PM
If Harley Davidson made a plane,
would you fly in it ???

All the bikies would.  And they'd carry their shootin' irons on board.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 30, 2012, 01:23:32 PM
A good long ride can clear your mind, restore your faith, and use up a lot of fuel.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on May 01, 2012, 07:42:05 PM
NEVER argue with a woman holding a torque wrench   :'(
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 01, 2012, 09:53:25 PM
NEVER argue with a woman holding a torque wrench   :'(

Is that because they hurt more than a broom if they hit you with it
or because she might know more than you who never uses a torque wrench?
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 01, 2012, 09:54:45 PM
Respect the person who has seen the dark side of motorcycling and lived.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on May 01, 2012, 10:05:45 PM
NEVER argue with a woman holding a torque wrench   :'(

Is that because they hurt more than a broom if they hit you with it
or because she might know more than you who never uses a torque wrench?

Dunno. Never been hit by a broom.
Frying pan yes, broom no.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 02, 2012, 01:10:00 PM
You live more in 5 minutes on a bike going flatout than some people do in a life time. ~Burt Munro
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 03, 2012, 08:23:16 PM
The faster you go the more corners there are.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on May 03, 2012, 09:07:03 PM
The only time you can have too much fuel,
is when you are on fire  >:()
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 04, 2012, 04:41:29 PM
The secret to going fast is keeping your hand off the brake.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 05, 2012, 04:25:36 PM
A mother is neither cocky, nor proud, because she knows the school principal may call at any minute to report that her child had just ridden a motorcycle through the gymnasium. - Mary Kay Blakely
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 07, 2012, 09:39:53 AM
You see, I don't know how to ride a motorcycle, actually. - Henry Winkler (aka Fonzy)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on May 07, 2012, 09:58:16 AM
(https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/536775_10150796078423611_63630623610_9627738_1126546038_n.jpg)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 08, 2012, 03:59:04 PM
The things I love about biking
#1  The look on drive-through workers' faces when you rock up at the window on a bike (extra points if you have a drink in your order).
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 09, 2012, 10:04:54 PM
The things I love about biking
#2  Little kids who wave to you from cars.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on May 09, 2012, 10:31:29 PM
The things I love about biking
#2  Little kids who wave to you from cars.

that always makes me laugh, the little face on the window with the look "I want a bike" same look i get when i am driving on a beautiful sunny day, with a car full of wife and kids
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on May 10, 2012, 12:29:02 AM
The things I love about biking
#2  Little kids who wave to you from cars.

My partner waves back at the kids. If it's safe I will as well if I'm riding solo.

#3 Strangers coming up wanting to more about my 1100.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 10, 2012, 11:54:59 AM
The things I love about biking
#3a The lady who walked up to me in the Bunnings carpark when I had the White ST1100 and said, "That's a beautiful motorbike."   :)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on May 10, 2012, 10:20:02 PM
Never mistake horsepower for staying power
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 11, 2012, 11:15:09 AM
The things I love about biking
#4 The look on drivers of "fully sick" Skylines/ Swifts/ Lancers/ Civics/ etc after a 250 beats them from light to light, no matter how many after-market guages, large mufflers and giant spoilers they have (extra laugh factor when its an auto and they have to click it into N to rev it at you at the lights).
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: rendog on May 11, 2012, 04:36:45 PM
Careless torque costs lives
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 13, 2012, 02:05:58 PM
The things I love about biking
#5  Blowing kisses to angry cagers.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on May 14, 2012, 04:06:51 PM
"twenty grand and twenty miles don't make you a biker"  Author unknown
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 14, 2012, 05:17:40 PM
The things I love about biking
#6 Riding through a long set of twisties then hearing a voice and realise it's your pillion singing. Now thats COOL.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 15, 2012, 08:44:09 PM
The things I love about biking
#7  Walking past the bike in the garage - good feeling even before I get on it.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 16, 2012, 09:16:09 PM
The things I love about biking
#8 Going for a ride with an appreciative pillion.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 17, 2012, 08:43:23 PM
The things I love about biking
#9  Its cool seeing other bikers on the road getting back that friendly nod or wave knowing you're part of a bigger family regardless of the type of bike they ride.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 18, 2012, 05:56:49 PM
If you don't go when you want to go, when you do go, you'll find you've gone. - Anthony Hopkins as Burt Munro in The World's Fastest Indian
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 20, 2012, 09:13:51 PM
Next time wave ALL your fingers at me!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on May 21, 2012, 09:48:44 AM
Biggles............you really are a wealth of Knowledge  :think1

But if you're not careful you could be up for a name change from "you know who" :eek

I've learned from experience.........no one is safe!! :-(((
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 22, 2012, 06:30:19 PM
The things I love about biking
#10  Panniers can never hold everything you want, but they can hold everything you need.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 23, 2012, 08:57:57 PM
If you don't follow your dreams Thomas, you might as well be a vegetable. 
Anthony Hopkins as Bert Munro in "The World's Fastest Indian"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 24, 2012, 10:03:12 PM
Warren: These brakes, they're completely inadequate.
Burt Munro: I'm planning on going, not stopping.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 25, 2012, 09:05:27 AM
Burt, what do you want to ride that contraption for?
That's a good question.  I guess the reward is in the doing of it, you know?

Anthony Hopkins as Bert Munro in "The World's Fastest Indian"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 28, 2012, 10:21:22 PM
Wear heavy boots when riding.  You can't kick things when you're wearing joggers.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 29, 2012, 09:38:40 PM
The only good view of a thunderstorm is in your rear-view mirror.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 31, 2012, 10:27:32 PM
Never be afraid to slow down.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 01, 2012, 05:16:27 PM
Never ask a biker for directions if you're in a hurry to get there.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on June 02, 2012, 07:51:18 AM
Exaustipated: too tired to give a shit.

 :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 02, 2012, 06:10:29 PM
If it takes more than 3 bolts to hold it on, it's probably crucial.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 03, 2012, 12:58:25 PM
Remember that you will be judged by the horse you ride.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 04, 2012, 09:39:04 PM
Don't ride so late into the night that you sleep through the sunrise.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 05, 2012, 06:44:35 PM
Pies and coffee are as important as petrol.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on June 05, 2012, 11:15:33 PM
I don't know where all theses gems are coming from - but you are truly 'The Oracle' mate - cheers.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 06, 2012, 11:06:34 AM
There's plenty more Diesel...

Never ask your bike to scream before her throat is good and warm.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 07, 2012, 09:33:54 PM
Riding faster than everyone else only guarantees you'll ride alone.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 08, 2012, 12:29:43 PM
Never hesitate to ride past the last street light at the edge of town.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 09, 2012, 05:11:11 PM
When you look down the road, it seems to never end but you better believe it does.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 10, 2012, 12:29:27 PM
Young riders pick a destination and go. Old riders pick a direction and go.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 11, 2012, 05:13:13 PM
Overconfidence can be supplied by spare spark plugs, a set of spanners, and a roll of toilet paper.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 12, 2012, 10:26:06 PM
Free advice is worth every cent!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 13, 2012, 11:16:37 AM
Sometimes the fastest way to get there is to stop for the night.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 14, 2012, 10:26:22 PM
Always back your bike into the curb and sit where you can see it.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 15, 2012, 11:59:27 AM
Whatever it is, its better in the wind.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on June 15, 2012, 12:01:50 PM
Whatever it is, its better in the wind.

Normally I'd agree - unless I was a 'house of cards'       :p
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 16, 2012, 09:21:31 PM
Good coffee should be indistinguishable from 50 weight motor oil.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 17, 2012, 11:13:05 PM
Motorcycle boots are NOT comfortable for walking so keep your bike in good repair.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 18, 2012, 01:42:38 PM
People are like motorcycles: each is customised a bit differently.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on June 18, 2012, 01:53:35 PM
People are like motorcycles: each is customised a bit differently.

thats the best quote i have seen in a while, well said!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 19, 2012, 11:40:49 AM
 If the bike isn't braking properly, you don't start by rebuilding the engine.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 20, 2012, 09:40:06 AM
Well-trained reflexes are more useful than luck.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 21, 2012, 09:45:30 AM
Learn to do counterintuitive things that may someday save your arse.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 22, 2012, 11:12:59 AM
Don't make a reputation you'll have to live down or run away from later.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 23, 2012, 09:24:35 AM
Smoke and grease can hide a multitude of errors, but only for so long.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 24, 2012, 12:39:10 PM
A friend is someone who'll get out of bed at 2 am to drive his Ute to the middle of nowhere to get you when you're broken down.

(Applies to HD owners or diesel refuellers)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 25, 2012, 12:59:24 PM
 If she changes her oil more than she changes her mind - follow her.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 26, 2012, 09:06:39 AM
The thicker your oil, the hotter you can take it.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 27, 2012, 12:49:57 PM
Hunger can make even road kill taste good.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 28, 2012, 06:37:40 PM
Max: "I'm scared, Fif. It's that rat circus out there, I'm beginning to enjoy it.  Look, any longer out on that road and I'm one of them, a terminal psychotic, except that I've got this bronze badge that says that I'm one of the good guys." (movie: Mad Max)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 29, 2012, 09:11:45 AM
"I am the Nightrider. I'm a fuel injected suicide machine. I am the rocker, I am the roller, I am the out-of-controller!"  (movie: Mad Max)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 30, 2012, 08:54:18 PM
Grease Rat: "Like the sign says, 'speed's just a question of money'. How fast you wanna go?"   (movie: Mad Max)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on June 30, 2012, 11:13:47 PM
It's nice to see other bikes when out on a ride. It's even nicer if some are STs!

Diesel 2012
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 01, 2012, 12:10:05 PM
Barry, MFP Garage Mechanic: "She sucks nitro... with Phase 4 heads! 600 horsepower through the wheels! She's meanness set to music and the bitch is born to run!"    (movie: Mad Max)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Brian on July 01, 2012, 03:46:12 PM
Life is like a pubic hair on a toilet seat . .... One day yer gonna get pissed off
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 02, 2012, 09:32:32 AM
No-one can hear you scream when you're wearing a helmet.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Brian on July 02, 2012, 08:06:55 PM
Ya pillion can... Through ya bike comms.....
No-one can hear you scream when you're wearing a helmet.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 02, 2012, 08:54:22 PM
Ya pillion can... Through ya bike comms.....
No-one can hear you scream when you're wearing a helmet.

Not above her own screams!   :eek
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Brian on July 02, 2012, 08:56:00 PM
Screams of joy and elation like on a fair ground ride
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 02, 2012, 08:57:41 PM
Screams of joy and elation like on a fair ground ride

Then she throws up on your back!    :crackup
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Brian on July 02, 2012, 08:59:52 PM
The schWING is too smooth to upset the most sensitive of stomachs....besides with my new modest riding style.....
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 03, 2012, 10:29:15 AM
Quote from a Russian machinist when asked, "Will the bike be fixed today?"  "Nine pregnant women will not make baby in one month... cannot be done"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 04, 2012, 10:42:35 AM
I still have a crick in my neck from looking back for them fast Harleys.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 05, 2012, 10:51:41 AM
A good ride is one from which you get home safely.  A great ride is one where the bike does too.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on July 06, 2012, 11:03:20 AM
I'm doing my bit for the environment. You should have seen how much carbon I removed from the carbonated cola in my rum glass last Saturday night!      :wink1

Diesel 2012
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Brian on July 06, 2012, 05:46:24 PM
Did you pay ya carbon tax or do we poor taxpayer have to dig even deeper in our pockets
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 06, 2012, 08:04:59 PM
The bend in the road is not the end of the road unless you fail to make the turn.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 07, 2012, 02:49:32 PM
There is an evil tendency underlying all our technology - the tendency to do what is reasonable even when it isn't any good.
Robert Pirsig "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 08, 2012, 12:44:07 PM
Driving a motorcycle is like flying. All your senses are alive. When I ride through Beverly Hills in the early morning, and all the sprinklers have turned off, the scents that wash over me are just heavenly.  Hugh Laurie
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 09, 2012, 03:32:17 PM
I had been warned not to get on a motorcycle, sort of. I think there is a clause in most general basic contracts to keep yourself in one piece and not alter your looks without telling them first.   Charisma Carpenter, American actress
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 10, 2012, 06:05:56 PM
If I'm out trailriding, I have a favorite motorcycle. Riding on the road, I've got a favorite. If I'm jumping, I have a favorite, and if I'm racing, I have a favorite.  Evel Knievel
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 11, 2012, 12:09:55 PM
Riding a motorcycle on today's highways, you have to ride in a very defensive manner. You have to be a good rider and you have to have both hands and both feet on the controls at all times.   Evel Knievel
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 12, 2012, 09:55:53 AM
When I was 21, I got into a motorcycle accident while traveling in Europe and I had to lie around a lot in the aftermath, which was really the first time in my life that I became really focused and inspired to write.  Chantal Kreviazuk, Canadian musician
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 13, 2012, 08:44:54 AM
You see, I don't know how to ride a motorcycle, actually.  Henry Winkler, leather jacketed star of "Happy Days"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 14, 2012, 04:43:27 PM
I rode it once, which was up the driveway in the opening credits of the show. I didn't know how to stop it. I actually nearly killed the director of photography, and I smashed into the sound truck.   Henry Winkler
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 15, 2012, 12:35:56 PM
Motorcycling is not, of itself, inherently dangerous. It is, however, extremely unforgiving of inattention, ignorance, incompetence, or stupidity.

(The original quote referred to aviation).
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 16, 2012, 09:12:25 AM
I'm not speeding, Officer, I'm qualifying!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 17, 2012, 09:05:54 AM
Far away is only far away if you don't go.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 18, 2012, 11:40:58 AM
There are old people who ride motorbikes and there are motorbike riders who are old.
I prefer the second bunch.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 19, 2012, 11:05:03 AM
Che Guevara: Are you talking to the motorcycle again?  "The Motorcycle Diaries"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Tipsy on July 19, 2012, 06:35:33 PM
Che Guevara: Are you talking to the motorcycle again?  "The Motorcycle Diaries"

Still
and with some Jose Cuervo
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 20, 2012, 11:14:32 PM
I've spent my entire career on horseback or on a motorcycle. It boxes you in, the way people perceive you.
Sam Elliott, US actor
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on July 20, 2012, 11:54:47 PM
I'd rather have a bottle in front of me that a frontal labotamy!

Author unknown.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 21, 2012, 05:22:58 PM
Wandering around our America has changed me more than I thought. I am not me any more. At least I'm not the same me I was. Che Guevara,  "The Motorcycle Diaries"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 22, 2012, 02:09:09 PM
There's a pretty good chance that you're going to go down when you're on a motorcycle or if you're sky diving or whatever, but that happened before I even got this job, and I haven't sky dived since.
Charisma Carpenter
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 23, 2012, 02:04:35 PM
I carry groceries home on the tank of my motorcycle.
Stephan Jenkins, American musician
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 24, 2012, 05:08:41 PM
I really love to ride my motorcycle. When I want to just get away and be by myself and clear my head, that's what I do.
Kyle Chandler  US Actor
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 25, 2012, 11:11:56 AM
If I want to work, I can. If I want to play golf, or ride my motorcycle, I can. But the rest of it is family.
Bob Seger, US musician
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Skip on July 25, 2012, 08:43:15 PM
If I want to work, I can. If I want to play golf, or ride my motorcycle, I can. But the rest of it is family.
Bob Seger, US musician
I knew I should have stuck with those guitar lessons. Dooh.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 26, 2012, 07:59:16 PM
My buddy David Wells is a big motorcycle guy, so when I go visit him in San Diego, he takes me out on his bike. He's got some antique Indians. I never really rode during my career, because I was afraid I'd fall off and ruin my career.
David Cone, US athlete
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 27, 2012, 10:58:43 PM
My dreams for the future are simple: work, a happy, healthy family, a lovely long motorcycle ride, and continuing the struggle to awaken people to the need for serious human rights reform.
Mike Farrell, US actor
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 28, 2012, 06:07:16 PM
That is why, as soon as I felt a real attraction for my first passion which was the motorcycle, and in spite of the danger it could represent, they encouraged me.
Jacky Ickx, Belgian celebrity
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 29, 2012, 08:01:33 PM
Driving a car vs  riding a motorcycle is like the difference between watching a sporting event on TV and playing in the game.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 30, 2012, 02:59:16 PM
It is good to have an end to journey towards; but it is the journey that matters in the end.  ~Ursula K. LeGuin
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 31, 2012, 06:18:40 PM
That's what we've been doing for more than 30 years - rock 'n' roll. It's made me everything from an honorary mayor to honorary member of a motorcycle gang.
Ronnie Hawkins, US musician
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: terrydj on July 31, 2012, 09:06:24 PM
If you don't ride, You don't know!
I thought this video was pretty good...and many may of seen it before, but the saying on the back of the t-shirts caught my eye
Open Road Music Video ([url]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4mU8ZqMZPU#ws[/url])
Cheers  :beer
Kev

Rode an old Stroked FLH Shovelhead for years , that is until "Bikers" invaded Australia and I flogged it at the start of the 90's
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 01, 2012, 04:46:25 PM
"If you treated me half as well as you treat that stupid motorcycle, we'd never have any problems!"   Quote: disgruntled woman
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on August 01, 2012, 11:01:40 PM
Understanding Engineers 101:

To the optimist, the glass is half-full. To the pessimist, the glass is
half-empty. To the engineer, the glass is twice as big as it needs to be.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on August 02, 2012, 08:27:44 AM
Thats going on my Facebook Status
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 02, 2012, 09:18:49 AM
Knees to the breeze and go where you please.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on August 03, 2012, 09:25:39 AM
CBers - the ORIGINAL Social Networkers!

Diesel, 2012
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 03, 2012, 04:13:53 PM
Does this bike make my butt look fast?
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 04, 2012, 07:13:42 AM

Keep thine eye on the tach and thine ears on the engine lest thy whirlybits seek communion with the sun. Hezakiah 4:50
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 05, 2012, 05:55:40 PM
If you think you don't need a helmet, you probably don't.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 06, 2012, 09:10:02 AM

A good mechanic will let you watch without charging you for it.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on August 06, 2012, 08:02:54 PM
"Not since the great Muhammad Ali have we been told by such an elite and charismatic athlete, we'd be 'Owned' - and done so, so emphatically!"

Diesel on the legendary Usain Bolt after his WR 100m sprint at the London Olympics 2012. (9.64 sec)

Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 07, 2012, 08:24:39 PM
Whatever it is, it's better in the wind.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Poppy Dave on August 07, 2012, 10:28:54 PM
Whatever it is, it's better in the wind.

Sh1t isn't
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 08, 2012, 08:53:16 AM
A motorcycle can't sing on the streets of a city.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 09, 2012, 08:32:54 PM
Catching a bird in your chest at 100 kph can double your vocabulary.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 10, 2012, 09:00:02 AM
Don't lead the pack if you don't know where you're going.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on August 10, 2012, 11:50:06 AM
Don't lead the pack if you don't know where you're going.

Hmmmm... I dare NOT read between the lines on this one William.        |-i                   :grin
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 12, 2012, 09:54:28 PM
Beware the rider who says the bike never breaks down.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on August 12, 2012, 11:13:26 PM
Beware the rider who says the bike never breaks down.

So you're afraid of me then... :think1... unless you count two rear tyre blowouts as breaking down..........lol
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Tipsy on August 13, 2012, 08:36:40 AM
 :wht11 py

people dancing look completely insane to those who cannot here the music

Tipsy
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 13, 2012, 12:55:37 PM
Don't argue with an 18 wheeler.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 14, 2012, 11:57:49 AM
Never be ashamed to unlearn an old habit that proved dangerous.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: BigTed on August 14, 2012, 01:07:33 PM
Ride your own ride.

(I recall it's from a US motorcycle safety site.)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 15, 2012, 09:58:10 AM
Maintenance is as much art as it is science.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 16, 2012, 09:45:10 AM
A good long ride can clear your mind, restore your faith, and use up a lot of fuel.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 17, 2012, 09:18:00 AM
If you can't get it going with bungee cords and electrician's tape it's serious.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on August 17, 2012, 10:00:32 AM
Perhaps the BEST motorcycling accessory of all is the fact that there is a pub in almost EVERY town you wish to stop for a while.

Diesel 2012
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 18, 2012, 08:42:09 PM
Always replace the cheapest parts first.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 19, 2012, 01:42:42 PM
No matter what model you ride, it's all the same wind.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 20, 2012, 12:42:49 PM

Middle age starts when you have been warned to slow down, not by a motorcycle cop, but by your doctor.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 21, 2012, 11:43:17 AM
If the countryside seems boring, stop, get off your bike, and go sit in the ditch long enough to appreciate what was here before the asphalt came.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 22, 2012, 04:46:54 PM
Give way to trains.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 23, 2012, 10:34:06 AM
It’s a world with 20,000 television channels... get as far away from it as you can.  ~Honda Ad.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Tipsy on August 23, 2012, 06:19:22 PM
It’s a world with 20,000 television channels... get as far away from it as you can.  ~Honda Ad.

And nothing on im.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 24, 2012, 12:57:32 PM
God didn't create metal so that man could make paper clips!  ~Harley Davidson Ad.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 25, 2012, 10:34:27 AM
It’s not what you ride, it’s your attitude that it counts.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on August 25, 2012, 01:38:26 PM
Always put off 'till tomorow what you should have done yesterday.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on August 25, 2012, 03:08:03 PM
Always put off 'till tomorow what you should have done yesterday.

and I all ways thought it was "Don't do today what can be done tomorrow"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 26, 2012, 12:12:01 PM
Ride, eat, sleep... repeat.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Tipsy on August 27, 2012, 09:19:35 AM
Ride, eat, sleep... repeat.

and ,,,,,,,,, or you die
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 27, 2012, 04:15:41 PM
It didn’t look that far on the map.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 28, 2012, 10:46:44 AM
My bike is a gift from our children, purchased with money they will not inherit.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 29, 2012, 09:08:31 PM
98% of all Harleys ever sold are still on the road.

The other 2% made it home.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 30, 2012, 09:16:07 AM
And as I shifted into 5th...  I couldn't remember a word she said.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 31, 2012, 08:51:09 AM
ATGATT, because sweat dries faster than skin heals.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 01, 2012, 09:25:43 AM
Loctite - or kiss your nuts goodbye.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Malcolm6112 on September 01, 2012, 10:45:18 AM
Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass,

It's about learning to dance in the rain!

 :blu13
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 02, 2012, 11:55:53 AM
"I was riding real good, right up until I crashed."
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 03, 2012, 01:43:30 PM
It's hard to be humble when you ride the best!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 04, 2012, 10:34:20 AM
The road to enlightenment is better on a motorcycle.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 05, 2012, 09:52:58 AM
The difference between take a cage and riding a motorcycle is the same as watching the world go by and being a part of the world.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: WendyL on September 05, 2012, 01:29:21 PM
 Got this one from Canberra Motorcycle Centre  :grin


:bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 06, 2012, 10:19:50 AM
Asphalt. The World's Fastest Tattoo Remover.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 07, 2012, 09:07:06 AM
Every motorcycle will out-perform its rider.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: BigTed on September 07, 2012, 09:38:39 AM
98% of all Harleys ever sold are still on the road. ...The other 2% made it home.
Love it - just forwarded this on to my brother-in-law who rides a 30+ year old Harley he's continually restoring (aka fixing) - he was not impressed!  :rofl
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 08, 2012, 06:08:57 PM
When in doubt, gas it - it will solve the problem or end the suspense.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 09, 2012, 12:53:13 PM
When you come upon a road or trail you do not know, follow it to the point of knowing.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 10, 2012, 01:10:15 PM
Everything is okay in the end, if it's not ok, then it's not the end.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Malcolm6112 on September 10, 2012, 08:51:04 PM
Everything is okay in the end, if it's not ok, then it's not the end.

You got that from "The Marigold Hotel". Great film.

 :blu13
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 11, 2012, 09:49:58 AM
Sometimes it's a little better to travel than to arrive - Zen & the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 12, 2012, 09:32:15 AM
“Fun never goes out of style, and neither does function. If the New World needs cheap transportation, motorcycles can supply it. If prosperity returns, shiny as ever, motorbikes will deliver their share of the enjoyment.”
—Kevin Cameron, Cycle World, October 2011
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 13, 2012, 09:40:39 AM
“A long distance motorcycle trip, outside of your comfort zone, will probably be a defining experience in your life. It’s miles cheaper, easier and safer than the celebrities and tour operators want you to think it is.  Do a big trip, come back and encourage someone else to do theirs. Remember the kindness shown to you by strangers, then pass kindness on in your world thereafter.  Simple.” 
—Austin Vince (Producer and star of Mondo Enduro, Terra Circa), in Adventure Bike Rider (UK) issue #5, 2011
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 14, 2012, 01:57:23 PM
“Once a journey is designed, equipped and put in process, a new factor enters and takes over. A trip, a safari, an exploration, is an entity, different from all other journeys. It has a personality, temperament, individuality, uniqueness…And all plans, safeguards, policing, and coercion are fruitless. We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us.”
—John Steinbeck, “Travels with Charley”
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 15, 2012, 08:25:05 PM
“A favourite German word of Einstein's was Schlimmbesserung (sh-lim-BESS-airoong).   It means ‘changes attempted or improvements that make things worse’  It’s use is not limited to technological advances, but includes cultures, attitudes, behaviours, etc.  Basically, for every gain, there’s something lost.  Some creativity, spontaneity, wonder and innocence is always lost as maturity and experience develops.  More materially when one adds a GPS and a Spot-Tracker to a motor bike, something important about the riding and exploring experience is being lost...  Still, I’ve taken the GPS… but also laughed (and swore) at myself when ending up on the wrong road of a complicated interchange in a strange city because I was paying too much attention to the GPS's little screen ‘map’, and not looking enough at the passing road and signs.” 
—Mr Subjective 08-08-11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 16, 2012, 02:22:24 PM
“Media produces a product designed to deliver an audience for an advertiser. That model screws up everything.  At some point one becomes allergic to it. And that's more than a metaphor.  It is a cognitive allergy that works exactly like how plant, animal and food allergies work. A little of something is tolerated, but at some point it becomes too much and one gets allergic to whatever.  In marked contrast are activities like (...one example of an infinite number) riding.  It produces dopamine and we end up more and more transcendent, the more we ride. It's good for us.” 
—Mr. Subjective, Oct 31, 2011
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 17, 2012, 01:07:28 PM
“The human race is a species of learners and inventors, not creatures of instinct.  Culture helps us perpetual adolescents to connect received knowledge to sociability, survival, emotion, and the surges of more creativity.  With that culture comes the image of the epic hero, the paradigm of behaviour.  It is Christ dying (and rising),  Moses crossing the Red Sea, the Armenian David charging on his horse and Mher sulking in his cave, it is Alexander Nevsky (complete with all Cherkassov's lines and all Prokofiev's music).  And the American cowboy.  And of course, you guessed it, the biker.” 
—James Russell, blog 8-3-11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 18, 2012, 09:04:24 AM
“It is an autumn evening somewhere in Boston, Massachusetts.  I leave the warmth and light of a dinner party, zip up my heavy, padded leather jacket, don the gleaming helmet, and pull on metal-studded gloves.  The air is crisp and dark.  I’m all alone with the bike now.  It roars to life, the headlamp and indicator lights glow, the engine warms, the frame vibrates, I mount up, look at the world framed by the handgrips, my left foot clicks into first, my right hand turns the throttle, and now the bike and I are moving together, alert and tiny in the vast wonderful rushing ocean of night.  “Oh God, thy sea is so great and my boat is so small.”  I murmur the Breton fisherman’s prayer that John F. Kennedy loved, and my Honda CB 250 Nighthawk carries me home.”
—James R. Russell, IEEE Technolog y and Society Magazine, Spring 2011
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 19, 2012, 09:43:52 AM
“I guess the point is, we have to find a level of comfort that is acceptable, and still be able to expose as much of our bodies as possible to the open road.  If you’ve been on motorcycles a long time, you know that rain isn’t as big of a deal as most people might think it is.  You wrap up in the Gore-Tex and keep going.  Don’t get too close to cars, and don’t let the car behind get too close to you.  Cold is manageable with electric clothes, and heat is uncomfortable, but as long as you keep hydrating you’ll live.  Yep, you get on a nice, quiet bike like the V-Strom, make it fit and wear the right clothes, and crossing the country on a motorcycle isn’t too bad of a deal.  I guess I could do it again.”
—Clipper, Paul (2011-07-28). One Time Around (Kindle Locations 3441-3447). Kindle Edition.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 20, 2012, 10:09:44 AM
“The only way to see Hanoi is from the back of a scooter.  To ride in a car would be madness—limiting your mobility to a crawl, preventing you from even venturing down half the narrow streets and alleys where the good stuff is to be found.  To be separated from what’s around you by a pane of glass would be to miss – everything.  Here, the joy of riding on the back of a scooter or motorbike is to be part of the throng, just one more tiny element in an organic thing, a constantly moving, ever-changing process rushing, mixing, swirling, and diverting through the city’s veins, arteries, and capillaries.  Admittedly, it’s also slightly dangerous.  Traffic lights, one-way signs, intersections and the like— the rough outlines of organized society— are more suggestions than regulations observed by anyone in actual practice.  One has, though, the advantage of right of way.  Here?  The scooter and
motorbike are kings.  The automobile may rule the thoroughfares of America, but in Hanoi it’s cumbersome and unwieldy, the last one to the party, a wooly mammoth of the road— to be waited on, begrudgingly accommodated— even pitied— like the fat man at a sack race.
—p.78 of Anthony Bourdain’s book Medium Raw
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: gaz on September 20, 2012, 10:39:32 PM
'When what is indestructible meets what is irresistable, the female all too often wins.'
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 21, 2012, 11:50:33 AM
“A motorcycle is not just a two-wheeled car; the difference between driving a car and climbing onto a motorcycle is the difference between watching TV and actually living your life. We spend all our time sealed in boxes and cars are just the rolling boxes that shuffle us from home-box to work-box to store-box and back, the whole time, entombed in stale air, temperature regulated, sound insulated, and smelling of carpets.”
—Poet Dave Karlotski
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 22, 2012, 10:37:34 PM
Be the Marble: “Fill a bucket with baseballs, and there remains room for a lot of marbles in the interstices.  When the baseballs see a marble rolling past and get irate they have two options: Accept the marbles, or demand action from the authorities.  Both favour us marbles.  If they accept us, fine.  If they call their legislators and city council persons complaining, a public debate ensues.  When that happens, the marbles have a chance for justice.  If enough marbles are civilly disobedient, eventually things change in the marbles' favour.”
–Mr. Subjective
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 23, 2012, 12:18:14 PM
“I am fed up with good common sense.  I am fed up with my own good common sense.  Nobody, in full possession of all his faculties, can call “normal” wearing a stiff leather suit, boots, padded gloves and restricting helmet, mounting on two wheels over a responsive engine, riding among metal boxes speeding in opposite direction on surfaces designed for four solid anchors… no serious human being, I said, can admit that this is a rational behaviour.”
—Paolo Volpara, OMM Bulletin, 11/08”
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 24, 2012, 08:18:04 AM
E=MC²
Excitement = Two Motorcycles.
Einstein.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 26, 2012, 11:57:03 AM
“I love to travel, but hate to arrive.”
Einstein
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: growly on September 26, 2012, 07:11:47 PM
owning a harley is like masturbating with a cheese grater , its interesting but mostly just painfull
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: growly on September 26, 2012, 07:12:43 PM
if in doubt go flat out , and if not sure give it more
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: growly on September 26, 2012, 07:14:13 PM
this applies to all bikers setting the bike up for touring or fun.....

why is there so much week left at the end of the pay packet
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: WendyL on September 27, 2012, 12:07:03 AM
'When what is indestructible meets what is irresistable, the female all too often wins.'

 :grin Too true!  :grin

 :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 28, 2012, 11:52:34 AM
My mother rides a motorbike because scrapbooking sucks.
Roadside sign, Qympie, Queensland
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 29, 2012, 01:04:44 PM
The idea of travelling round the world had come to me one day in March that year, out of the blue.  It came not as a vague thought or wish but as a fully formed conviction.  The moment it struck me I knew it would be done and how I would do it.  Why I thought immediately of a motorcycle I cannot say.  I did not have a motorcycle, even a licence to ride one, yet it was obvious from the start that that was the way to go, and that I could solve the problems involved. 
The worst problems were the silly ones, like finding a bike to take the driving test on.  I resorted to shameless begging and deceit to borrow the small bike I needed.  There was a particularly thrilling occasion when I turned up at the Yamaha factory on the outskirts of London to take a small 125-CC trail bike out "on test."  I had my L plates hidden in my pocket, but first I had to get out of the factory gates looking as though I knew how the gears worked.  Those were the first and some of the hardest yards, I ever rode; now it can be told.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 17
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 30, 2012, 06:45:58 PM
"Yes, yes, yes," they scream and, in a flurry of brown limbs, they fight with the Triumph up a gangplank, over a rail into a narrow gangway, through hatches, over sills and bollards, four hundred pounds of metal dragging, sliding, flying and dropping among roars and curses and pleas for divine aid, while I follow, helpless and resigned.  Finally the bike is poised over the water between the two boats. The outstretched arms can only hold it, but they cannot move it, and it is supported, incredibly, by the foot brake pedal, which is caught on the ship's rail.  Muscles are weakening.  The pedal is bending and will soon slip, and my journey will end in the fathomless silt of Mother Nile.  At this last moment, a rope descends miraculously from the sky dangling a hook, and the day is saved.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 73
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 01, 2012, 12:51:08 PM
I carried out my first-ever major motorcycle overhaul in Alexandria.  I found a cavernous garage near Ramilies Station, haggled bitterly over five piastres for the right to work there, and then received many times that amount back in tea,  cigarettes, snacks and true friendship from the poor men who struggled to earn a livelihood in that place.
I took two days to do a job that might be done in two or three hours, but every move was fraught with danger.  I dared not make a mistake.  Already I knew that there would be no chance at all of getting spare parts in Egypt.  Both pistons, I found, were deformed by heat, and I had only one spare piston with me (a piece of nonsense which inspired more waves of telepathic profanity to burn the ears of Meriden [UK Triumph company]).  The pistons had seized their rings, and I put back the less distorted one after sculpting the slots with a razor blade.  It seemed the only thing to do.  I prayed that I was right.  I had no real idea about what had caused the overheating after only four thousand miles, and felt rather gloomy about it.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 66
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 02, 2012, 10:49:23 AM
It was plainly impossible to move the bike, so I began to unload it.  I noticed immediately that my water bag was empty, the plastic perforated, the contents drained away.  Well at least l had a litre of distilled water.  With all the luggage off I glanced in the gas tank.  Had it been possible at this stage to shock me, I would have been shocked.  There was only a puddle of gasoline left, hardly a gallon.  My fuel consumption was twice what it should have been, and when I thought about it, that was perfectly natural.  Grinding along in second gear over a loose surface in such heat, it is what you would expect.  Only I, of course, had not expected it.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 82
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 03, 2012, 10:14:44 AM
If falling were a competitive sporting event, I would be a champion. Sometimes, on deeply rutted tracks like the one between Gedaref and Metema, it was impossible to avoid a fall.
(Getting it up again) was an exhausting exercise because I could not lift the bike without unpacking everything first.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 92
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 04, 2012, 09:24:53 AM
Scooping the sand out by hand took half an hour, but I managed to make a lane back to the firmer ground.  There was a bit of brush growing on the dunes, and I paved my lane with twigs.  Then, inch by inch, I was able to haul the bike back to where I wanted it.  Again I had lost a lot of sweat, and I got the water bottle out.  It was warm to the touch.  I put it to my lips, and then spat vigorously on the ground, mustering as much of my own good saliva as I could.  The bottle contained acid.  Battery acid.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 82
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 05, 2012, 09:45:17 AM
I have had one more soft fall, but each jerk on the wheel pulls the muscle in my left shoulder and prevents it from healing.  I feel no hunger, no thirst.  I am absolutely wrapped up in this extraordinary experience, in the unremitting effort, in the marvellous fact that I am succeeding, that it is at all possible, that my worst fears are not just unrealized but contradicted.  The bike, for all its load, is manageable.  I seem to have, after all, the strength and stamina to get by, and my reserves seem to grow the more I draw upon them. 
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 95
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 06, 2012, 11:00:44 AM
Why you?   Why were you chosen to ride through the desert while other men are going home from the office?
Chosen?  I thought I chose myself. Were Odysseus and Jason, Columbus and Magellan chosen?
That is a very exalted company you have summoned up there. What have you got in common with Odysseus, for God's sake?
Well, we're all just acting out other people's fantasies, aren't we?  Maybe we're not much good for anything else.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 96 
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 07, 2012, 12:20:50 PM
The road to Gedaref is worse.  Much worse.  Worse than anything I imagined.  At times, in fact, I believe it is impossible, and consider giving up.  The corrugations are monstrous.
Six-inch ridges, two feet apart, all the way with monotonous, shattering regularity.  Everything on the bike that can move does so.  Every bone in every socket of my body rattles.  Not even the most ingenious fairground proprietor could devise a more uncomfortable ride.  I feel certain it must break the bike. I try riding very slowly, and it is worse than ever.  Only at fifty miles an hour does the bike begin to fly over ridges, levelling out the vibration a little, but it is terribly risky.  Between the ridges is much loose sand.  Here and there are sudden hazards.  The chances of falling are great, and I am afraid of serious damage to the bike. Yet I feel I must fly, because I don't think the machine will survive eighty miles of this otherwise.  It js hair-raising and then it becomes impossible again.  The road swings to the west and the sun burns out my vision.  I realize I must stop and make camp.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 100
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 08, 2012, 06:55:25 AM
Why don't the tires tear to shreds under all this punishment?  Why no punctures?  I think a puncture might finish me, I'm so beat.  Why doesn't the Triumph just die?  Unlike me, it has no need to go on.  It protests and chatters.  On one steep climb it even fainted, but after a rest it went to work again.  I hate to think what havoc is being wrought inside those cylinders.
We have such a long way to go.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 102
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 09, 2012, 05:33:32 PM
It is clear that the bike can barely cope with the combination of load, work and heat.  The road is scarred and ripped to rubble.  It's like following the track of some stumbling monster of destruction.  Halfway up a particularly hard climb, I lose momentum and the bike simply dies on me.  I don't know what's happened, what to do.  I wait awhile and kick it over.  It starts and revs up fine in neutral, but when I engage the clutch it dies on me again.  I am quite near the top of the hill, and I unload the heaviest boxes and carry them up myself.  Then I ride the bike up, and load again.  The plugs and timing are O.K.  What else can I do but cross my fingers, and try to keep up momentum.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 106
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on October 10, 2012, 10:48:34 AM
"Bibles & Motorcycles - should NEVER have that new, unused look about them."

Diesel, 2012
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Hanno on October 10, 2012, 05:04:25 PM
It is not the destination, it is the journey.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Hanno on October 10, 2012, 05:05:16 PM
Motorbike riding is the best fun you can have with your clothes on...



I don't remember what I did wit them off!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 13, 2012, 05:12:09 AM
The best trick in my repertoire was provided by a company called Schrader in Birmingham.  They made a valve with a long tube which I could screw into the engine instead of a spark plug.  As long as you had at least two cylinders, you could run the engine on one and the other piston would pump up your tire.  So I was able to pump up my tube, and it seemed all right.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 129
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 15, 2012, 12:43:15 AM
I waved to him and he stopped beside me.
"Can you help me, I wonder..." I said.
"Absolutely," he said.  "Most definitely.  I see you are having trouble, isn't it.  A spot of bother."
" Well, my tire's flat..." and I went on to explain.
"I will introduce you to Mr. Paul Kiviu," he burst out enthusiastically.  "Definitely he is the very man of the moment.  He is manager BP station Kibwezi Junction and he is my friend."
Mercifully the road was level at that point.  As I pushed the loaded bike along on its flat tire, Pius bobbed around me like a butterfly, calling encouragement, imploring me to believe that my troubles would soon be over.  His good nature was irresistible and I began to believe him.  I In any case I was happy that something was happening and I was in touch with people.  At the time it seemed to me that what I wanted was to have my problem solved quickly and to get on my way.  I had a boat to catch in Cape Town and the journey was still the main thing.  What happened on the way, who I met, all that was incidental.  I had not quite realized that the interruptions were the journey.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 130
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 15, 2012, 11:23:11 PM
My confidence in the Triumph has gone beyond surprise and gratitude.  I now rely on it without question, and it seems past all coincidence that on this last day, the unseen fate working itself out in the cylinder barrel should manifest itself.  It is not I who am looking for significance in these events.  The significance declares itself unaided.  Just beyond Trichardt, in the morning, the power suddenly falters and I hear, unmistakably, the sound of loose metal tinkling somewhere; but where?  Although the power picks up again, I stop to look.  The chain is very loose.  Could it have been skipping the sprockets?  I tighten the chain and drive on.  Power fails rapidly and after about smell of burning.  Is it the clutch?  It seems to have seized, because even in neutral it won't move.
Two friendly Afrikaners in the postal service stop their car to supervise, and their presence irritates me and stops me thinking.  I remove the chain case to look at the clutch, a good half hour's work.  Nothing wrong, and then my folly hits me.  I tightened the chain and forgot to adjust the brake.  I've been riding with the rear brake on for four miles, and the shoes have seized on the drum.  Apart from anything else, that is not the best way to treat a failing engine.  I put everything together again and set off, but the engine noise is now very unhealthy.  A loud metallic hammering from the cylinder barrel.  A push rod?  A valve?  I'm so near Jo'burg, the temptation to struggle on is great.  At Pietersburg I stop at a garage.
The engine oil has vanished.
"That's a bad noise there, hey!" says the white mechanic, and calls his foreman over.
"Can I go on like that?"
"As long as it's not too far. You'll use a lot of oil."
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 169
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on October 16, 2012, 09:47:22 AM
"A bartender is just a pharmacist with a limited inventory."

Unknown
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on October 16, 2012, 09:48:15 AM
I have kleptomania,
but when it gets bad,
I take something for it.


Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on October 16, 2012, 09:48:42 AM
FOLLOW YOUR DREAMS!
Except that one where you're naked in church.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on October 16, 2012, 09:49:49 AM
Corduroy pillows are making headlines!
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on October 16, 2012, 09:50:21 AM
Dyslexics Have More Nuf.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on October 16, 2012, 09:50:47 AM
Don't sweat the petty things.
Don't pet the sweaty things.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: saaz on October 16, 2012, 10:26:23 AM
If I had known I was going to live this long I would have taken better care of myself...
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: saaz on October 16, 2012, 10:28:42 AM
One can no more enjoy life by hoping for a future result than you can enjoy beautiful music by waiting for the final note.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 16, 2012, 10:44:15 PM
I spend two days at Naboomspruit working on the engine.  The crankcase is full of broken metal.  The con rod is scarred, the sump filter in pieces, the scavenge pipe knocked off centre.  The sleeve of the bad cylinder is corrugated.   I have kept the old piston from Alexandria, and put it back thinking it might get me as far as Jo'burg.  With everything washed out and reassembled, the engine runs, but no oil returns from the crankcase.
The second day I spend on the lubrication system, picking pieces out of the oil pump.  On Sunday, in bright sunshine, I set off again, for twenty blissful miles before all hell breaks loose.  The knocking and rattling is now really terrible.  I decide that I must have another look, and by the roadside I take the barrel off again and do some more work on the piston and put it back again.  By now I am really adept and it takes me four hours.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels pp 169-170
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 17, 2012, 11:14:36 AM
Do you have a nice quote about motorcycling? Post it here (no rubbish or derogatory crap please).

Sometimes it takes a whole tankful of fuel before you can think straight.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 17, 2012, 11:15:49 AM
Joe's Motorcycles on Market Street, as agents for Meriden, took the engine to pieces again and sent me off with a rebored barrel, two new pistons, a new con rod, main bearings, valves, idler gear and other bits and pieces.  The broken metal had penetrated everywhere and again I was struck by the force of the coincidence that all this havoc had been wrought virtually within sight of Johannesburg.  I was very susceptible to "messages" and wondered whether someone was trying to tell me something, like, for example,  "I'll get you there, but don't count on it."
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 171
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 18, 2012, 11:13:31 AM
Calling at a gas station is an event, particularly on a motorcycle with a foreign number plate.  In southern Africa everyone plays the number-plate game.  You can tell instantly where each one comes from; C for Cape Province, J for Johannesburg, and so on.  My plate begins with an X, a mystery all the deeper because some pump attendants belong to the Xhosa tribe.  Peeling off damp layers of nylon and leather, unstrapping the tank bag to get to the filler cap, fighting to get at the money under my waterproof trousers which are shaped like a clown's, chest high with elastic braces, I wait for the ritual conversation to begin.
"Where does this plate come from, baas?" asks the man.
"From England."
A sharp intake of breath, exhaled with a howl of ecstasy. "From England? Is it? What a long one! The baas is coming on a boat?"
"No," I reply nonchalantly, knowing the lines by heart, relishing them rather. "On this. Overland."
Another gasp, followed by one or even two whoops of joy. The face is a perfect show of incredulity and admiration.
"On this one?  No!  Uh!  I can't.  You come on this one?  Oh!  It is too big."
I am learning, as I make my way through my first continent, that it is remarkably easy to do things, and much more frightening to contemplate them.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 176
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 19, 2012, 11:13:50 AM
The great freeways sweep me on past Stellenbosch and Belleville towards the ocean, into the suburbs of Cape Town, winding me down effortlessly and without error as though on an automatic flight path to the heart of the old city and setting me down in the plaza beside the ocean.  My joy is almost hysterical as I park the bike, walk slowly over the paving towards a cafe table and sit down.  I have just ridden that motorcycle 12,245 miles from London, and absolutely nobody here, watching me, knows it.  As I think about it I have a sudden and quite extraordinary flash, something I never had before and am never able to recapture again.  I see the whole of Africa in one single vision, as though illuminated by lightning. And that's it.  I've done it.  I'm at peace.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels pp 180-181
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 20, 2012, 09:33:05 AM
Mourning becomes electrics.  Among the dunes and bushes of a camp site at La Plata, south of Buenos Aires, I searched for an electrical fault.  I never found it, but when I put everything together again, furious and frustrated, the fault disappeared.  Not an uncommon experience.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 267
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on October 20, 2012, 12:28:08 PM
Touring by motorbike, more than any other mode of transportation, allows us to be more fully engaged with people, culture and the natural world - especially the bugs.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 21, 2012, 12:17:00 PM
So far, on my journey I had learned scrupulously to resist travelling as though to a destination.  My entire philosophy depended on making the journey for its own sake, and rooting out expectations about the future.  Travelling in this way, day by day, hour by hour, trying always to be aware of what was present and to hand, was what made the experience so richly rewarding.  To travel with one's mind on some future event is is futile and debilitating.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 307
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 22, 2012, 01:23:55 PM
I was particularly interested in Pete because he had just ridden a three-cylinder Kawasaki on almost the same route from Rio to Panama as I had taken.
"Remember that bridge coming into Ecuador?" he asked.
There was only one bridge he could have meant.  It was built like a railroad track, but with planks instead of rails to take the wheels of cars.  The sleepers were set about eighteen inches apart, and there was nothing between them but air, and only river beneath.  It might not have been so bad if the planks had not kept changing direction, so that it was impossible to build up any momentum.  I had fallen halfway across and was lucky not to have gone through into the river.  Bob and Annie had also fallen on their Norton.
"Sure I do," I said. "I fell on it." He howled, and grabbed my hand.
 "Me too, pal. Which way did you fall?"
"Into the middle."
"Jesus.  I only fell against the side.  Boy, that was some ride.  I'm really glad I met you pal."
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 309
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 23, 2012, 10:31:02 AM
The bike is tired also, but that is only a figure of speech.  I do not credit the bike with feelings.  If it has a heart and soul of its own I have never found them.  People I meet are often disappointed that the bike does not even have a name.  They often suggest names ("The Bug" is top favorite) but none of them seem to do anything for the bike or for me.  For me it remains a machine, and every attempt to turn it into something else strikes me as forced and silly.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 314
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on October 23, 2012, 10:43:51 AM
"Unity is strength... when there is teamwork and collaboration, wonderful things can be achieved"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 24, 2012, 11:04:26 AM
Suddenly I realize that I have wandered into the middle of the road, and look up to find a huge truck bearing down on me out of the rainstorm.  It is far too late for me to react, and it is entirely by chance that the truck misses me, by a hair's breadth.  As I realize what I did, how close I came to being literally wiped out, obliterated, I feel that fearful rush of heat and cold sweat that makes the heart nearly burst, and feel immensely grateful for the warning while wishing I knew to whom to be grateful.  A God would come in useful at times like that.
I can count only two other times when I came so close to an end.  I must be really tired at the back of my skull. I must be careful.  I must never let that happen again.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 315
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 25, 2012, 08:09:13 PM
By the time l got to Mexico City one cylinder was smoking just as it had in Alexandria, but this time I was better prepared.  I had two spare pistons with me, both oversize so that I could rebore if necessary.  Was it necessary with only three thousand miles to go?  This time though, a friendly Triumph agent was there with all the equipment and the will to help.  It seemed silly not to take advantage.  Friends of Bruno put me up; Mr. Cojuc, the agent, did the rebore; I put it together again in his workshop, if for no other reason than the close contact this gave me with Mexican workers made the experience worthwhile.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 316
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 26, 2012, 09:32:58 PM
The coast road north of Sydney is called the Pacific for 650 miles until it gets to Brisbane.  Then it becomes the Bruce Highway.  Another five hundred miles north is Rockhampton, right on the Tropic of Capricorn.  I crossed the tropic (for the sixth time on my journey) four days before Christmas and headed on for Mackay.  Since Brisbane the arid summer of the south had been giving way slowly to the tropical rainy season of Queensland.  In the southern droughts the cattle died of thirst.  In the north they drowned and floated away on the floods.  Australia runs to extremes.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 341
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 27, 2012, 06:07:54 PM
If the Nullarbor was not an ordeal, it was perhaps a last straw.  Bouncing over it was too much for the spokes of the rear wheel.  After all they had been through in two and a half years. I had been warned.  In Melbourne and again in Adelaide I had replaced broken spokes, and I checked them every time I stopped for the day.  At Eucla, where the dirt ended and the highway began they were still in order. The smooth tar enticed me to greater speed. After five hundred miles, just before Norseman, I noticed a growing vibration through the steering head. I stopped in the absolute nick of time.
Only four of the twenty spokes on one side of the wheel were left, and the rim was a terrible twisted shape.  A few seconds more and it would certainly have collapsed. I shuddered to think of the mangled mess that that would have left.  As it was, I spent one of the nastiest hours of the journey rebuilding the wheel in a twilight plagued by squadrons of vicious mosquitoes.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 363-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 28, 2012, 12:28:50 PM
The journey continued, as it always had, with this close inter-weaving of action and reflection.  I ate, slept, cursed, smiled, rode, stopped for gas, argued, bargained, wrote and took pictures.  I made friends with some Germans, and some English, and some Indians. I learned about mushrooms, potatoes, cabbages, golden nematodes, Indian farmers and elephants.
The thread connecting these random events was The Journey.  For me it had a separate meaning and existence; it was the warp on which the experiences of each successive day were laid.  For three ears I had been weaving this single tapestry.  I could still recall where I had been and slept and what I had done on every single day of travelling since The Journey began.  There was an intensity and a luminosity about my life during those years which sometimes shocked me.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 406
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 29, 2012, 09:12:29 AM
And why else should I find myself now having my future told to me at a Rajput wedding?
"You are Jupiter," he said.  Of all the gods in the pantheon, Jupiter is the one I fancy most.  A lovely name, Jupiter, like cream and honey in the mouth.  And a sense of great distance and closeness at the same time.  He was a rainmaker, and I have definitely made my share of rain.  I rained all over the Southern Hemisphere in unprecedented quantities.  Then he was famous for his thunder, which is appropriate too for a god on a motorcycle, and (if it's fair to mix him up a bit with Zeus) then I like the idea of appearing in all those disguises. I have been changing my shape quite often as well.  All in all I would quite like to be Jupiter, if it is not too late....
"You are Jupiter," he said, and for a flash I was, "but for seven years you have been having conflict with Mars."  Of course.  It was a misunderstanding.  He was talking about the planet.
"This troubling influence will go on for two more years."  His grip on my hand remained firm and convincing, and I did not resist.  I wanted it to be important.
"During these two years, you will have two accidents.  They will not be major accidents, but they will not be minor either."  Really, I thought, that's stretching my credulity a bit.  I hardly need a fortuneteller to predict accidents, with ten thousand miles still to ride.  But he did say two.  Not major? Not minor?
"After this period, when you are no longer influenced by Mars, it will be well.  You will have great success and happiness."
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 421-2
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on October 30, 2012, 09:23:47 AM
Live each day like it's your last - one day you'll get it right!

Anon
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 30, 2012, 10:05:33 AM
I was carrying rice from Iran, raisins and dried mulberries from Afghanistan, tea from Assam, curry spices from Calcutta, stock cubes from Greece, halva from Turkey and some soya sauce from Penang.
In a polythene screw-top bottle bought from a shop in Kathmandu was the rest of the sesame-seed oil I had bought in Boddhgaya. The rice and raisins were in plastic boxes from Guatemala.  My teapot was bought at Victoria Falls, and my enamel plates were made in China and inherited from Bruno at La Plata.  A small box of henna leave leaves from Sudan, a vial of rose water from Peshawar and some silver ornaments from Ootacamund were all tucked into a Burmese lacquered bowl. This in turn sat inside a Russian samovar from Kabul. The tent and sleeping bag were original from London, but the bag had been refilled with down in San Francisco. I had a blanket from Peru and a hammock from Brazil. I was still wearing Lulu's silver necklace and an elephant-hair bracelet from Kenya. The Australian fishing rod was where the sword from Cairo had once sat, and an umbrella from Thailand replaced the one I bad lost in Argentina.
By far the most valuable of all my things was a Kashmiri carpet, a lovely thing smothered in birds and animals to a Shiraz design, but it would have been hard to say which of my possessions was the most precious.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 443
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 31, 2012, 10:59:40 AM
(It was predicted Ted Simon would have an accident, "not major, not minor".  He rode 60,000 around the world and it didn't happen. Then...)

In the South of France near Avignon, I came to a crossing.  There were no traffic lights, and I was on the minor road.  I stopped the bike completely and looked up and down the major road.  I saw no traffic, and set out to cross it.  I could hardly have been doing five miles an hour when I saw myself within yards of a big van coming straight for me very fast.  It should have hit me side-on and I would undoubtedly have been killed if it had, but I braked and the driver didn't, and so his van was just past my front wheel when I hit it. The bike was torn away from underneath me, and the front end was smashed beyond repair.  I fell on the tarmac with all the bones in my body shaken in their sockets, but otherwise unharmed.
The worst was having to face that I could look directly at a speeding van and not see it.  My confidence was more shattered even than the bike.  After all that I had done, with all the care I was taking, I could not explain how I could ride blindly into such a disaster. If ever an accident qualified as "not major and not minor" that was it.
Ted Simon.  Jupiter's Travels p 446
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 01, 2012, 09:27:41 AM
Riding a motorcycle is technology's closest equivalent to being a cowboy.  Our modern horse has two wheels instead of four, but its nervous system is appropriately rated in horsepower.  Its reins are the handlebars, its stirrups the clutch and brake, its rider (hopefully) sufficiently experienced with the laws of nature to skillfully control his excitable steed.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p xi
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 02, 2012, 10:40:58 AM
One of the great advantages of the motorcycle is its ability to bring its rider close to the environment- winds, weather, roads, surroundings, nature.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p xi
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 03, 2012, 09:16:36 AM
And thus, within a few weeks, I found myself sitting astride two wheels, humming down the Dover road headed for what one of the motor-works heads had dubbed "a two-cylinder Odyssey."  Not that I felt like any kind of Ulysses nor did I have visions of a modern Homer becoming my biographer.  My feelings were a mixture of anxiety and boredom.  The anxiety arose over the possibility that my mother and father might at any moment learn of my intended trek and take steps to intercede in the venture.  The boredom came with contemplation of the thousand or so miles across Europe...  I wanted real adventure- right away, a chance to use the bulky bundle of maps and all of the gadgets strapped so neatly to various sections of my motorcycle.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 14
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 04, 2012, 02:27:56 PM
It is perhaps paradoxical that he travels safest who travels alone.  The solo traveler is much less apt to find trouble than when travelling in company.  The logic behind this is as simple as the minds of the natives.  When a native meets a stranger in his own kind among his own people, the normal reaction is that he has an advantage over that stranger.  He has the upper hand and is the strongest, so he is willing to approach and talk matters over.  The kind of reception he receives dictates his behaviour.  If the stranger is belligerent, then native can declare war.  If the greeting is friendly, then there is peace.  Had I been travelling with a companion, what would have happened?  The natives would have seen not a lone individual but two persons talking to each other: sufficient unto themselves.  Why then talk to them?  Why make move, except a move in self-defense if necessary.  When this dawned upon me in its full significance there came a tremendous thrill in realizing that I was alone.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 30
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 05, 2012, 08:46:07 AM
The clutch had not behaved at all decently, jamming frequently as the dust penetrated the mechanism, making it practically impossible to stop... except by capsizing, and then a matter of running through the thick dirt with the heavy machine in gear to start it again.  Needless to say I often found myself going in circles, back the way I came, in any direction just to keep going, while making up my mind.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 39
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 06, 2012, 08:13:01 AM
"You know," he said, "almost every week someone drives through here on some sort of expedition, some sort of tour, going some vague place or other.  And they all think that I should give them tires and tubes.  For publicity and advertising,' they call it.  Apparently they never stop to think that I am here in this shop day after day, that I would like to go off adventuring too, and have my way paid.  But you said you wanted to pay for the tube!"
"Certainly I do."
"Well, by Jove," his eyes gleamed, "I'll give it to you!" 
Despite my protests he not only refused to accept my money, but took me home to meet his wife for tea and gave me some very sound advice.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 55
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 07, 2012, 11:19:45 AM
I thought of running. But where? I stood as if glued to the spot.  Not until the big car came to a stop beside me, did I move.  Five burly men tumbled out.
"What in hell?"
"Well, I'll be ..."
"I'd like to know where in ..."
One was an Englishman, a second a Persian, and the three remaining passengers were just plain Americans, the ones who didn't bother to restrain themselves.  They were jabbering away at me with shouted questions before they'd touched the ground.  We had a regular pow-wow and Old Home Week.
Good-naturedly they advised me that I was a fool, an idiot, and several other categories of mankind for trying to cross the desert motorcycle.  They had to cross in their motor car for business, but I was just doing it... for what? 
They were generous in replenishing my water bottle and also filled my gas tank.  They brought out sandwiches and fruit and we talked and munched and all was fine.  Here were businessmen, men of trade and barter.  They travelled by automobiles, they wore occidental clothes and spoke a strange language but they were no different from the merchants who for centuries have travelled with the caravans trading two goats for a cow, rolls of silks for bags of wool.
Tne meeting was... marvelous.  No other word describes it, for it buoyed my spirits and sent them soaring.
The time came to push on and one of the party who'd been doing business with the Anglo-Persian Oil Company stepped forward.
"Wait a minute young man," he said.  "I'm interested in this trip of yours.  When you come through Indianapolis look me up."
His card read, "Edward Herrington, President, Marmon- Herrington Motor Truck Company."
"That's interesting," I commented.  Then I told him of my father's connection with the motor truck industry.  The man almost exploded.
"What!  You don't mean to tell me you're Bob Fulton's son?  Why... why, I worked with him for years!"
He beamed, he glowed, he chortled and all but kissed me on both cheeks!
Suddenly the desert seemed like home, crowded with life and activity.  In fact, even the sand had a positively friendly look.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 86
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 08, 2012, 11:32:02 AM
I was in Baghdad. I was approaching New Street, the main street of Baghdad. A turn to the right and then ... CRASH!  For an instant I didn't realize what had happened. I had stepped clear as the motorcycle went over. A little boy of eight or nine lay sprawled over the front wheel.  He had dashed off the curb, directly into me and lay there screaming to heaven. The
noise reassured my fast beating heart.  They were screams of fright, rather than agony.
Two policemen, in their dusty faded uniforms, immediately appeared.  The little boy scrambled to his feet.  Through the grime on his hands and face and his bare legs I sought to find signs of cuts, of blood.  There were none.  Suddenly realizing the presence of the two policemen his mouth reopened.  But instead of screaming he just left it open, rolled his eyes and then, as though propelled from a gun, disappeared from the scene, dodging between a cart and two trucks.
Dragging the machine to the side of the street, I kicked the starter.  The engine roared, and still the policemen had said nothing.  One even walked away.  But the other stood there looking me over carefully.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 93
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 09, 2012, 09:36:00 AM
Bored and tired yet knowing this struggle had to go on for at least so long, my mind, as was most appropriate in India soon seemed to detach itself from my physical self and wandered to other subjects- until a thorny twig suddenly caught b tween my knee and the gasoline tank.  The unexpected pain made me jump so high that I completely lost control of the machine, and in an instant, capsized in one of the ever-present washouts.  I am sure that, at that point, I could have put any Indian magician to shame when it came to disappearing.  The ditch was full of wild boar.  In a few seconds I was so far away that it was perfectly safe to look back.  To my amaze- pigs were running almost as fast as I, but in the other direction.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 121
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 10, 2012, 10:12:21 AM
Many of the Indian railways are narrow gauge and the trestles are just wide enough to carry one track.  Riding the motorcycle, it was possible to travel between the rails and bump over the ties, meanwhile sliding one's feet along the rails on either side, thus keeping a precarious balance as the wheels bump-bump-bumped over the sleepers.  Sport?  You can have your wild game tracking.  Riding a trestle as high as a fifteen story building for three-quarters of a mile is every bit as thrilling as waiting for wild elephants to charge the guns.  I negotiated four trestles which, for all their wood and steel, felt no wider and no safer than a tight rope stretched across top of a circus tent.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 132
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on November 10, 2012, 01:40:35 PM
Awesome stuff thanks Biggles. If you're thinking of quitting this thread - DON'T!  I'm sure there are plenty of Members like myself whom look forward to our daily inoculation against the ravages of reality through your insightful and entertaining posts.

Cheers, Diesel
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 10, 2012, 04:03:26 PM
Awesome stuff thanks Biggles. If you're thinking of quitting this thread - DON'T!  I'm sure there are plenty of Members like myself whom look forward to our daily inoculation against the ravages of reality through your insightful and entertaining posts.

Cheers, Diesel

You're welcome, I'm sure.
I read a lot of m/c adventure books, so it's no big deal to share excerpts.
The thread averages 18 hits per day, so it's not just you who looks in to get a daily fix of biking miscellany.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Poppy Dave on November 10, 2012, 06:10:53 PM
Yeah Biggles,

Quote of the Dayis one of the first things I look for. Very interesting, keep it up please. :-++
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 11, 2012, 10:31:11 AM
The six thousand three hundred and seventy-second mile almost became the last for me.  As I was sitting admiring the sign's impressive, glossy surface and wondering just who had counted off the miles, a sudden cloud darkened the sky: an automobile whirling around the bend from Gujranwala, and in an instant I was busily flying through space.  Strange how
quick thoughts can be.  As I sat astride the machine, one leg on either side, and turned my head just in time to see the sky go dark, there was still time to realize that nothing short of a miracle could prevent breaking my leg, crushing it between car and motorcycle.  Even before I finished rolling over in the dust, I was pulling and shaking it, hardly believing my eyes.
The motorcycle had only a broken carburetor dust-filter, quickly repairable at the next garage; and while the automobile awaited a wrecker to hoist it from its broken front axle, I drove away... soon to find the motorcycle's rear fork had been unnoticeably bent, but just enough to correct the Turkish "broken-bridge" calamity to the front fork, henceforth making the machine ride perfectly straight.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 133
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 12, 2012, 12:50:30 PM
But the greatest problem was that of fording the innumerable streams swollen by the recent rain.  What otherwise might have been dry river courses were roaring torrents and, in several cases, they were more than a third of a mile wide.
The procedure was a ticklish one but from past necessity had already become a matter of routine.  Leaving the machine on the bank I would start wading, knowing that at any time the water rose above the top of my boots it would drown the carburettor and end things then and there.  The machine course, much too heavy to push through running water on a rocky river bottom. Sometimes it would take over an hour to find the ultimate ford.  But by that time the machine would have cooled and so there was no danger of parts cracking from a sudden chill.  Even with the smallest and shallowest streams there always had to be that wait to allow for this gradual cooling.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 237
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 13, 2012, 10:44:18 AM
The native had, of course, fled in despair, not even waiting to get his monkey. The end of the line, fastened to a stick, had caught in the dense foliage, and the animal was still up the tree.  Amid much fighting, pulling, and screaming I finally got him down and took him with me for several days.  He took to motorcycling like  a circus bear, clinging to the luggage rack like dust.  He liked everything about his new life, even liked to hunt in my hair after he had finished with his own.  I was the first to get discouraged.  I could see myself in everything he did and he could, within three days, do many of the things I did on the motorcycle.  I had visions of him someday climbing aboard, tugging at the throttle and setting the machine loose or doing something equally serious. So I finally turned him loose in the jungle.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 253
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 14, 2012, 09:38:00 AM
On the road out of Batavia to Bandoeng I vividly encountered this middle-of- the-road policy.  Descending a steep hill, at a comer I came upon two natives laden with a large straw house.  The walls were of woven reeds, tied over a bamboo frame, and the entire structure was suspended between them on a long pole.  Of course they were in the middle of the road.  But at the sound of a machine they dashed for the ditch- unfortunately each choosing a different side.  The house hung across the road, the front door stood open... there was no alternative.  For an instant there was a tearing of reeds, a splintering of bamboo; and suddenly, the machine, looking like a haystack, emerged through the rear wall.  The house rolled over and collapsed.  As I pulled reeds from my hair and the wheel-spokes, they emerged terror-stricken from the ditch.  They expected either a thrashing or jail.  I expected a great cry from the for payment.  When neither of the expected things happened, we grinned simultaneously.  It was all a good joke.  They had probably spent a month or two constructing the house .  But what's a month or two to a Javanese?
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 255
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 15, 2012, 09:29:48 AM
The machine had no sooner rolled into a Kobe shop when surrounded by mechanics, some of whom spoke English and knew all about the trip.  "We read it in our newspaper!"  They were surprised that I did not know. The Japanese, even more so than the Americans, are a nation of newspaper readers, their principle papers having a daily circulation running into the millions.  Word must have spread by a grapevine system from the machine shop where the new horn was being installed.  Soon one motorcyclist after another drove up, to come in, examine the machine and ask questions, or merely bow a greeting.  There was much intense telephone conversing, much coming and going of people and machines, much bustle around the shop, but there was no moment of laxity on the job and there could be no complaint regarding the service.  Within an hour the horn was installed, tested and adjusted, the machine backing out of the shop.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 332
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 16, 2012, 11:42:23 AM
I was no sooner back at the yadoya than a delegation of three young Japanese arrived.  All spoke English.  Would I do them the honour of informing when I was leaving Kobe?  I said I was leaving next morning at about eight or nine.
"Would it be imposing if we, the representatives of the Kobe Motorcycle Club, asked for the honour of escorting you along the road to Osaka pointing out the most beautiful scenery in all Japan?"
"Not at all," I assured. They bowed and withdrew.
I rose at seven the next morning, shaved, and was just getting into my clothes when a din like that from a score of machine guns, roaring tractors and automobiles without cutouts, assailed my ears.  I pushed aside a screen and looked out.  Other guests were doing the same.  The clatter was terrific.  What I saw made me pull in my head a and try to hide. Not three motorcycles, as I had expected, were outside.  There were thirty-three (I checked the count later), roaring salutations. Other guests in the inn were starting to complain. The delegation of three sought vainly to hush the other club members by whispering their commands and jumping about frantically.  Amid roaring and racing motors I checked-out and made a bee-line for my motorcycle before the other guests, so unceremoniously awakened, could start throwing
things.
But before we could leave there had to be a speech and the presentation of a pennant bearing the insignia of the club. They tied it onto the windshield.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 333
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 17, 2012, 10:06:07 AM
"We will now escort you to see the fine, splendid scenery," the delegates announced.  The leader raised his hand, the motors raced more madly.  And off we went.  We were out of Kobe and into the suburbs in one-minute-flat.  The Kobe Motorcycle Club members did not believe in speed laws.  Nor did they believe in allowing their visitor to find aught but a clear path before him.  Every one of the thirty-three took it upon himself to be the pathfinder, with the result that I tagged along like a tired child after a day's trip to the country. They do say that the scenic route along the Inland Sea outside of Kobe is one of the really beautiful sights of Japan.  I’ll probably never know.  The dust cloud raised by sixty-six whirling wheels was far too thick to see through.  My escorts roared into Osaka, to come up with a flourish in one of the downtown squares.  There they lined up and there again a speech was made.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 333
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 18, 2012, 02:10:03 PM
Then late one afternoon I drove into the Avenue, a slicker buttoned about my mud-caked corduroys, and my boots took the splashing of the New York delivery wagons and shiny limousines alike.  It was the day before Christmas.
As I lifted my foot over the saddle in the courtyard of an apartment building, I shed a surreptitious tear.  The haughty doorman, watching from behind the grilled door, didn't see that tear.  Or perhaps he thought it was rain on my face, if he thought anything other than that Mr. and Mrs. Fulton were having a strange visitor. 
So from Christmas to New Year's the motorcycle stood in the courtyard.  I looked at it when I came and went, but I did not touch it.  And when I glanced down from the lofty windows it appeared forlorn, a small thing in a vast wilderness. It had looked that way when I strode out with the Commandant at dawn to start across the Syrian Desert- so small a thing in such a large place.
Robert Fulton.  One Man Caravan p 346
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 19, 2012, 08:40:17 AM
To my mother's horror, at age 12, my father suggested constructing a homebuilt, mini-scooter using an old lawn mower engine.  The freedom and power of a motorized bike was like a match to gasoline for a troubled young rebel growing up in the 60s.  A lifetime lust for adventure had been ignited. Fiercely independent and anti-authority, I was constantly rejecting the status quo, and that made me feel more alive.  In high school, while others were elected most likely to succeed, my teachers often remarked that I would surely spend life behind bars, and I did - handlebars.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 5
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 20, 2012, 07:49:18 AM
After only a week on the road, my first casualty is a broken kick-stand.  For increased ground clearance, this motorcycle was designed without a centre stand, a handy tool for raising the bike to change tires and lube the chain.  Normally it's easy to tilt the bike over onto the kickstand high enough to sweep a rock underneath and then pull it upright to balance the rear wheel off the ground. It's a simple move on lighter bikes, but with 200 pounds of extra equipment and fuel, today the hollow support tube buckled.
A loud crack before the kickstand bent in half afforded the split-second needed to catch the bike before it tipped over.  Now what?
Even simple problems in Japan are community affairs that require lengthy discussion considering all options.  After leaning the motor-cycle against a tree, a conference begins, prompting the first of several long winded telephone calls. After the third, I ask, "So what did they say?" The answer: "Wrong number."
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p18
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 21, 2012, 11:21:13 AM
Since this was a small town, we felt safe and decided to use my one heavy-duty cable lock and Yasutomo's two chain locks to secure them to a tree outside our window.  Not possible the cop declares, followed by motions indicating they would be stolen.  They take us outside to show how other hotel visitors secured their vehicles at night, even removing their windshield wiper blades.  They pointed to our mirrors and seat cushions and flicked open their hands demonstrating how they would disappear.
So far, everywhere in Russia we've been warned that our bikes or equipment would be in instant jeopardy if left unattended.  It's nice to think the best of people, but we are finally convinced into wrangling our bikes down a narrow hallway to park them outside our room. It's been a long day in Friendly Russia.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 38
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 22, 2012, 10:36:48 AM
Exactly a half-hour later he appears with his private driver carrying a hardbound Russian road atlas. "A present for you my friends."  Then he leads us back to the dirt-surfaced Trans-Siberian-Highway, and were off, kicking up pea gravel with spinning tires.
We've only had to stop for document checks three times a day, including when caught on radar for speeding. Each time we end up humouring the cops and posing for pictures.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 43
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 23, 2012, 09:00:24 AM
Occasionally we pass directly next to the Trans-Siberian Railroad, and, for a moment, catch glimpses of comfortable passengers in lighted railcars. I imagine them sipping wine and nibbling French cheeses in their steamy, warm carriages.  Yasutomo must hate me at the moment. Before we left together, he'd asked about taking the train to Chita instead of riding.
My bellowing reply was, "Are we motorcyclists or what?" I wonder now, as we ride into the night, blue with uncontrolled shivering, if he regrets his decision.
Humming loudly inside my helmet is Willie Nelson's "On the Road Again" and I tell myself once more that it's good to be here.
 Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 45
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 24, 2012, 08:04:24 PM
Gravel roads, although firmer than mud, cause mild wheel-wobbling, making the bike sway as though riding on flat tires.  Cognizant of variances in surface conditions, especially when the front wheel twists off in unintended directions, we lack proper control and have to resist the urge to fight the handlebars.  Like flying an aircraft, good motorcycling requires delicate steering.  To stay relaxed, its best to control the handlebars by pinching the handgrips with your outside two fingers and use the other two for brakes and clutch.  Caution is critical. If we slow abruptly the weight shifts forward, loading the front end and digging the front tire into the gravel instead of rolling over it.
This plowing effect can send the bike sideways into a horizontal slide.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 46
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 25, 2012, 01:03:43 PM
On a long journey, it takes a month of adjusting to erratic routines to find the rhythm of the road. There is a point where weary travellers either flee for the comforts of home or cross a magic line beyond which home is redefined.  After four short weeks in Russia, the road is now home.  Long, hard days end in rain-soaked tents, cheap hotels or on mouldy couches in the tiny apartments of newfound friends - temporary shelters that reveal the starkness of how the other side lives.  A month is a year when travelling, and as each day passes, swinging through a forest of adventure, I release an old tree branch to grasp a new one, often dangling in the breeze, awaiting another life lesson.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 53
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 26, 2012, 09:35:17 AM
After they ask why I'm favouring a left shoulder, I relate the afternoon's events.  They want to look at the bike; maybe they can fix it.
"Have at," I say, "but there is little we can do out here without tools."
At first, it confused me why they just laughed.  But an hour later these surgeons from heaven were busy straightening the frame, welding steel fasteners and using superglue with duct tape to piece together the shattered windshield.  Bundled metal water pipes served as a circular anvil to hammer round sections of the frame back into perfect shape. Within four hours, the Blue Beast was restored to health.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 57
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on November 26, 2012, 10:58:08 AM
A Herc pilot's recall of taking off overloaded one day... (and comparing that to overloading your ST with pillion and gear...



A pilot I was. Overgross take off I have done.

Peacetime max Gross for a C-130E is 155,000 pounds. I thought I was at max gross. The load teams had calculated the loads incorrectly, however.

Lawson AAF, Ft. Benning, GA is in the bend of a river that is down about 100 feet below the field level. The runway lines up with the river to the north. We took off to the north. The runway was about 5300' long and at max gross we should have come unstuck at about 4500' roll.

We didn't. We were just at unstick speed when we crossed the overrun, I horsed the beast into the air, it shuddered in a stall, I stuck the nose down into the river valley, the CP yanked the gear up, we went about 30 to 50 feet down in the river valley as the beast struggled for air speed.

Finally after about a mile we had enough speed to initiate climb. We were cleared to climb to Flight Level 230 (23,000 feet). Traffic control kept asking when we were going to climb. The best we could get was about 50 feet a minute. Gradually, as fuel burned off, we climbed faster. We were headed to the Dominican Republic with steel planking for a bridge to be used in flood relief. We were past St. Augustine Florida before we passed FL180 and were well down the east coast of FL before we got to our assigned altitude.

We used the performance charts to do reverse calculations to determine what our actual Gross Weight had been. Yes, it's possible for a C-130E to get airborne with the unique conditions of having a place to dive for speed past the end of the runway with a Gross Weight of 195,000.... This "war story" is to illustrate, there is a safety margin built in.

Others have pointed out, when you get heavy, handling changes. A bike with 2 up, unless your GIB is rather small, is going to handle differently. Be prepared for it.

Taking off that day, we knew we were heavy. We just didn't know HOW heavy. That was DUMB. We trusted the wrong people to be accurate with their weight calculations.

In my years after that, such an event never happened again to me. I never was so trusting again.

JM - www.st-owners.com (http://www.st-owners.com)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 26, 2012, 12:54:32 PM
It's way too easy to be overloaded with sheet steel.  I've had the experience in PNG in a little Cessna 206 carrying 6 foot sheets of corrugated iron.  A full load looks like an empty plane.  It's only 83 sheets which is only about 200 mm thick.  Have a load crew miscount (or even put on a double load as happened to a pilot out of Rabaul) and you've got your hands full.

The other hazard back in those pre-GPS days when you relied on your magnetic compass was that flying magnet that your aeroplane had become with half a ton of iron on board.  The compass could be more than 30 degrees out.  You would have to track out on your ADF to establish the error so you knew the correction when the beacon dropped out.

Anyway, back to the programme...
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 27, 2012, 08:33:41 AM
Halfway through a can of sardines and stale bread, I am suddenly aware of a presence at my side.  Looking down, I am startled to see a four-year-old girl staring up, holding an aluminium pail and porcelain bowl.  A scan of the surrounding terrain reveals no sign of nomads or their Gers, and it's impossible to determine from where she came.
“Sain ban noo" I say.  (Hello).  Her smudged face is frozen in an emotionless gaze upward at the Martian someone in her family sent her to assist.  Because of their deep Buddhist belief in karma, it's in the nature of the nomads to feed and care for strangers. This is a training mission.
Accepting the pail and bowl, I pour myself a drink of hot, sweetened goat's milk. Finally, something I've been offered offer tastes good. "Bai ar laa" (Thank you).  Still no response, just little brown eyes of apprehension.  Nothing moves her.  Funny faces and wiggling fingers in my ear changes nothing; she never flinches.
After a second cup of milk, I hand back the containers, flip the bike ignition and beep the horn.  Suddenly, she breaks into bright childish laughter.  I see her in the mirror as she scurries back across the desert to where she came from, and when I turn to see her one last time she has disappeared.  The sweet taste of goat's milk on my lips and a digital photo are my only confirmation that she ever existed.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 63
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 28, 2012, 10:00:39 AM
A quarter-mile sprint later, me following on my bike, we reach an ageing cement-block apartment complex where he pulls me by the arm upstairs, rambling out questions and answers in Russian. Hungry Jack points to himself and declares, "Sasha!"
Once inside his 10-by-io-foot kitchen, he flings open the antique refrigerator door with one hand and pitches jars of sweetened fruit with the other. Soon a steaming pot of tea and Russian ravioli arrive, with crackers and homemade raspberry jam. He points to everything in sight, asking if I want some. After force-feeding me whatever he can, we re off to the living room for home videos and invitations to accompany him and his wife to their dacha for a Russian banya. It's already nine o'clock, and, fearing an all-nighter, I decline and instead politely request a hotel.
Back on my bike with Sasha leaping ahead like an eager puppy, we reach the only hotel in the village. While I unlock the aluminium panniers, he grabs the nylon tote bags, stuffing whatever he can under his arms. After hauling my gear inside, he surveys the room as if searching for something written on the faded wallpaper. I assure him everything's fine and that I now just want to sleep. His farewell is a Russian bear hug, picking up my 210 pounds and shaking me like a rag doll. Disappointed that we couldn't hang out more, he lopes back down the road, turning every few steps to wave.
I am going to miss Russian hospitality.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 67
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 29, 2012, 08:45:08 AM
Later, back in the storm, I realize it would have been wiser to quit at the one-hour mark when the shakes first started. Now there is nothing but freezing rain and fierce winds pounding the empty Siberian plain. By nightfall, when a small village appears, the stages of hypothermia have already hit and my thinking grows mushy. Two federal marshals driving in off the roadway find me spinning my tires through muddy streets.  They know something’s wrong and pull alongside, displaying hand-signs asking me to follow. Six blocks later, we arrive at a grey cement hotel without lights.  Before I can step off the bike, they grab me by the arms.  Shivers had turned to uncontrolled shakes, and I'm unable to walk on my own.  Inside the ageing hotel lobby, an overweight matronly desk clerk is bundled in sweaters and overcoats.  So much for heat.  I need to get warm immediately, so the marshals lead me next door to a warm, smoky cafe crowded with uniformed men playing cards.  I'm uncertain if they are Tartars or Buryats, but they are friendly, bringing cups of steaming tea and huge metal bowls of vegetable soup. While I sit shivering, one of them pries off my helmet and motions me to remove my soggy riding suit.  Siberians know the dangers of hypothermia, and they bring a heavy wool blanket and towel.  After gulping down hot liquids, the shakes subside enough for me to strip off the rest of my clothes.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 69
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 30, 2012, 08:39:00 AM
High-capacity fuel tanks provide extra-long-range riding when needed and can be left half-full when it's appropriate.  That morning, I had deliberately filled mine only halfway, to help me maneuver through the slippery conditions ahead.  Five gallons less means 40 pounds lighter, a significant plus when trying to wrangle a 600- pound bike through mud.  Even when the low-fuel light blinks on, it still means that there's 120 miles left — provided the electronics are functioning.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 71
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 01, 2012, 03:58:53 PM
I always stash a set of spare keys on the bike where they are easy to access in emergencies.  They are wrapped in soft duct tape and tucked up underneath the rubber boot on top of the gas tank, under the seat.  But constant pounding and jarring from washboard roads disturbs everything, no matter how tightly packed.  Pills turn to powder and even the foam padding in the rear top-box gets beaten into gum, sticking on the instruments it's intended to protect.  Most items change shape after only a few days off-road.  Even knowing this, I never imagined a set of hidden keys could cause such a problem.
About the time I started looking for a place to stop and get warm, without warning the motor quit.  Not with a sputter- an abrupt cutoff.  After a brief inspection, it becomes apparent that repeated attempts to restart will only lead to a dead battery. Bikes with carburettors are easy to fix.  Even a motor mower can be cannibalized for enough parts to get home.  New BMWs come with electronic fuel injection, a superior method of metering fuel  and supposedly bulletproof, but it's also difficult to repair without tools.  There's a nagging fear, wondering what to do if this system malfunctioned here or in Africa.
My brain overloads analyzing the problem.  Is it a broken wire buried somewhere in the yards of electrical tubes?  A burned-out circuit board?  A malfunctioning computer?  Chips gone haywire?  How could I repair defective electronics out here?  And what about that slowly expiring Russian visa?
---
Now, suspecting it's a dirty filter or a faulty fuel pump, I unbutton the tank-filler to discover the real problem- no gas!  Inside the lid, my set of jangling spare keys had severed the wires connecting the low-fuel light, the reason there had been no warning my fuel was about to run out.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 72-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 02, 2012, 12:31:09 PM
As cowboys love their horses, riders love their motorcycles.  We get to know each other through customizing and maintenance checks.  From meticulous tinkering and studying specs, we memorize their features and weaknesses while constantly drooling over the latest gadgets.  Forged steel and machined aluminium rolling on vulcanized rubber become sacred vehicles that we name. 
My mighty Blue Beast, survivor of a rugged Tran-Siberian crossing and stained from the red clays of Mongolia, has earned its place as my faithful companion. Capable of taming the roughest terrain and gobbling up long stretches of highway, its reliability is important to the success of my journey. On top of all that, it goes fast! Russian police checkpoints, machine gun-toting guards stop me to point at flashing red numbers on radar guns.  They don't seem angry so I laugh aloud- only 80 miles per hour?  But they are more interested in where I'm going, and before they wave me on, I must recite a list of recent destinations. So far, Russian cops have been friendly to the "Amerikanski" from "Calleekfornia".  Once, I'm even given the emblem off a police uniform, a souvenir from an otherwise forgotten moment in a distant land.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 74
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 03, 2012, 12:51:22 PM
A passing summer squall  sets me squinting through my face shield at the glare from a setting sun glistening off slick black pavement. Twenty-one hundred miles to go - from Novosibirsk, it's a straight shot over the Urals to the onion domes of St. Basil's.  After a loop around the Kremlin, I'll be off to the Middle East via Europe, but for now it's a ride into rapture.  With a twist of the throttle, my iron steed snorts and stretches its legs, winding through the gears in a mechanical fury, flowing through the drive train to rushing asphalt below.  Captured in the euphoria of rapid acceleration, as always, I can't imagine a better state of mind.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 74-5
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 04, 2012, 09:38:10 AM
Motorcyclists welcome motorcyclists on motorcycles.  It's a sign of respect when I see a dozen bikes heading toward me in the rain outside a city, ready to escort me in. Actually, it's often easier to ride in alone, but it's also impressive to see the spirit of like-minded fanatics infected with the same fever. The first question from the diehards: "Did you ride the stretch between Chita and Khabarovsk or take the train?" A cheer erupts when I tell them I rode it.  Even by Siberian standards, it's one of the toughest roads in the world. They are further impressed when they hear of my anticipated trip around the planet.  For most motorcyclists, this is a fantasy ride.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 76
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 05, 2012, 09:55:59 AM
The Other Men, a local club from Omsk, come to greet me on motorcycles, guiding me back to their bike shop clubhouse.  A few of the riders have casts on their legs, reminders of the price of our passion.  No drunks either - they ride sober, in sharp contrast to the Russian truckers I met, sucking on vodka bottles at breakfast.
Until 10 years ago, the only machines available here were comical Soviet Urals, unreliable copies of ‘40s model BMWs.  Now big, meaty imported Japanese sport bikes dominate. The locals have learned how to keep them running without access to the proper parts - they make their own on old, rusty lathes. When I discover another broken sub-frame bolt from my ride in Mongolia, they machine a new one from an otherwise useless chunk of steel.  Drowning me in hospitality, they've taken to calling me the Siberian Viking.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 76-7
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 06, 2012, 08:31:42 AM
I’ve been warned that friendly country cops turn aggressive as you near Moscow, demanding money after flagging down speeding motorists.  In preparation for foreigners, they've learned to make commands in English: pay up or else.  No one wants to find out what "or else" means.  The only way to know for sure would be to call their bluff. In 60, 000 miles of Third World shakedowns, the most I've surrendered is a pair of scratched-up Korean sunglasses in Peru.  Despite numerous Russian speed traps, I am determined to maintain that record.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 78
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 07, 2012, 08:54:33 AM
After the first straightaway, blowing off a string of lumbering big rigs, a lone highway cop holding a radar gun steps from the shoulder, pointing his red reflector paddle directly at me.  I've been gambling all day, ignoring them, pretending not to notice, but my luck was sure to run out eventually. Although unarmed, the cops could have radios with them to notify comrades ahead of a belligerent speeder.  This time there is no way around the man in the roadway - I rein the Beast to a halt. As he fixates on the California license plate, I blurt out in rapid-fire English, "Howdy, how's it going? Can you tell me how to get to Poland from here?"
He goes on the defensive. "Ni panimah" I don't understand.  I continue sputtering nonsense until he regains his footing, demanding "Documenkis!"
He points to the blinking red numbers on his radar gun and then growls at me. "You!"
Showing him my watch I say, "Oh how interesting, is that a clock like this.  He holds out his hand. Rubbing his thumb and index fingers together, he hisses, "Muneeeee."
More babbling about Poland and pointing to the sky taxes his patience as I refuse to admit understanding a single word. Exasperated and convinced a shakedown is futile, he says in Russian, "Never mind just get out of here and slow down."
I smile and say "Spa cee bah." (Thank you). His head whips around and with a glare of suspicion he says, "I thought you didn't speak Russian.  I cover my tracks with a big stupid smile, "Pree vee et, pree vee et, spa cee bah, spa cee bah" (Hello, hello, thank you, thank you).
Aware he's been had, he reluctantly lets me go.  His time is better spent squeezing speeding drivers of expensive German cars.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 78-9
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 08, 2012, 09:16:14 AM
The Czech Republic is a well-kept secret for motorcycling.  Fresh asphalt roads slice through thick-forested scenery with plenty of quaint cafe stops for delicious local food at half the cost of most of Europe.  Czechs cook like the French, organize like Germans and greet like Mexicans.  Avoiding touristy Prague, I stop in a medieval stone block village just on the outskirts.  Podebrady, population 15,000, is an orderly town plucked straight from the last century, with prices to match.  Twenty bucks a night for a mini-suite, color tv and a desktop computer with free high-speed Internet.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 86
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 09, 2012, 11:18:30 AM
A darkening overcast sky cools the landscape with mist as early evening fog creeps in mischievously to alter the odds for motorcycle riders. Against piercing headlight glare, streams of water droplets form sparkling cobwebs on my face shield, making me drowsy. Mesmerized by blinding smoky white, the second I forget caution, the looming back end of a big rig instantly zooms into view.
Stomping the brake and squeezing the hand lever almost hard enough to snap, the abs kicks on with a klicketyy-klickety abrasive motion. Bright red lights approaching too fast is a familiar panic scenario for unfortunate motorcyclists in the sphincter-puckering moment before we know we're going down. Regrets flash as blazing neon- what was I doing out here at night? The rain-slicked road loses the battle of friction as the front wheel of the Blue Beast bites into the asphalt, barely tapping the steel fangs of the truck s under carriage bar.
Spared without reason, I release a breath, fighting the shakes as the sinister square ghost chugs eerily back into the With a shakey smile, I acknowledge the mercy of the Travel Gods once more and search for somewhere to sleep.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 99
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 10, 2012, 11:55:56 AM
It s been tricky coordinating the shock absorber rebuilding process. A repair kit had to be mailed from Sweden to the local Ohlins distributor, now a bike shop with tools was needed to remove the shock. After that it had to go out to another shop for rebuilding and yet another for spring compression. But because of days off for Ramadan, a half-day job stretched into two days. Strangers wrenching on my bike to access the shock was nerve-racking to watch, especially when the mechanic who reassembled it was different from the one who initially disassembled it. Finally, after bolting the Beast back together with pliers and vice-grips, the wires were reconnected and sealed with masking tape. Life is laid-back here, and nothing stops Turks from chain-smoking, not even gasoline pouring out onto the floor from severed fuel lines.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 104
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 11, 2012, 09:50:08 AM
Oh dear- went away for a day and didn't take my book with me, so I'll have to put up two quotes tomorrow.  Sorry   :-[
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on December 11, 2012, 01:11:36 PM
Still cleverly scored the post count though, I see!          :well                       :rofl
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: gaz on December 12, 2012, 03:25:15 PM
and i look forward to it too  :-[ :'( :( >:( :cuss :-((( :fp
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 12, 2012, 03:32:52 PM
Three flights down from my tiny hotel room, the Blue Beast waits patiently for the order to ride. The destination is not important. Today, settle for anywhere, as long as I am travelling on two wheels. At last, a warm autumn wind and rushing asphalt transmit the soothing relief of the open road as I roll beyond the Istanbul city limits, heading south. After crossing the channel to Bandirma, reaching the ancient Roman city of Ephesus is a four-hour sprint over the opposite mainland and into a thousand years of history. It's hot enough to ride without a jacket, but I recall my pledge, enjoying the sweltering heat. I imagine I'm absorbing the sun’s energy like a recharging battery, storing it for the upcoming mountains. After a short search, I find a cozy hostel in Selcuk, a tree-shaded village nearly two miles beyond the best-preserved classical Roman city on the eastern Mediterranean. It's here where the apostle Paul is said to have written his profound epistle to the Ephesians.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 106
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 12, 2012, 03:33:13 PM
Odd noises can be deceiving when travelling through metal. Even when you use a stethoscope to pinpoint them, diagnosis is difficult.  We couldn't hear the lower-end-whine at the repair center, but the BMW service manager in Istanbul decided it could be the water pump and installed a new one to be safe. Then, when the sound persisted, a new generator, hydraulic cam chain tensioner and starter were replaced. More shots in the dark. Because the grating was inconsistent and barely audible, mechanics had to regularly test ride the bike, attempting to identify the noise. After a final checkup at the shop, we determined the problem to be the small bearing in the transmission that wears prematurely when the chain is too tight. Only the bearing needed replacing, but the entire engine had to be disassembled- a three-day process. The good news was that since the bike had a record of maintenance by authorized dealers across Europe, BMW assumed responsibility and covered the cost under warranty.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 107
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 13, 2012, 02:30:23 PM
Three weeks trapped in any capital city will drive a traveller mad. It's worse for motorcyclists, as we constantly crave the soothing winds of the open road, with an alternating landscape to ignite our passions. Waiting with nothing to do only strangles our spirits. My motorcycle parts, ordered through Turkish distributors, are somewhere between the BMW warehouse in Munich and a complicated local customs procedure that is rife with delays. Even if they arrive next week, it will take three days to rebuild the machine, which means I'll be lucky to escape Istanbul by December.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 109
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 14, 2012, 08:42:37 AM
An empty, jagged mountainside of the rising Anatolian plateau turns into an eerie moonscape of frozen forests and white, powdery plains. As the altimeter climbs, temperatures plummet until chilling pain turns to numbness from my fingertips to my shoulders. An electric vest maintains my core heat but has no effect on a runny nose freezing to the inside of my helmet liner. Its going to be a long two days through a high-altitude glacial odyssey. Savage headwinds bite through thick nylon and five layer thermals, gnawing their way from my legs to my lower torso. The Pillsbury Doughboy under siege. Icy elements relentlessly hammer and tear, chipping away barriers to hypothermia. If I can keep organs warm, another hundred miles is possible, but with the sun behind the clouds, odds shift. At 45-minute intervals I must stop to stomp my feet and let the heated vest chase away shivers. Uncertainty re-emerges like a long-lost nemesis. The volatility of nature reinforces the idea of fate, I think to myself, as the ferocity of adventure returns, like plunging into a raging sea. With a wry smile, once again I hum Willie's tune "On the Road Again.'
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 112
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 15, 2012, 03:45:49 PM
The crossing from Turkey to Syria today only takes two hours. The cost is 40 dollars for insurance and road tax and 10 more to bribe fake immigration inspectors before being released into a flowing demolition derby.  Turks are timid drivers compared to Syrians.  The 30 mile terror ride in the dark to Aleppo is only a peek at what else is in store.  There are too many near-death experiences to consider recounting.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p  p 114
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 16, 2012, 12:43:35 PM
At a downtown restaurant, locals crowding around my table exchanging small talk was normal. And who would have suspected a diversion to block a line of sight to my bike, which was quietly being stripped of its vital driving lights? Because the danger factor increases tenfold after dark, I try not to ride at night. When poor timing dictates the need, auxiliary lights brighten inky nights, making a significant safety difference. But as I said yesterday when someone stole my water bottles and this morning when the chain lube disappeared- what the heck, turn the page. Let's only count the good times.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 115
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 17, 2012, 12:06:06 PM
When it come to adventure travel, you can't take a wrong turn- a thought shared simultaneously by both parties when I meet a young backpacking British woman touring the ruins of Petra. She, weary of advances from optimistic teenage Arab boys, and I, lonesome for a woman's touch, seem a good match. Neither of us requires convincing. Doubling-up on a motorcycle can be crowded, but Barbara's warm, little body fits perfectly between the small of my back and her rucksack strapped to the motorcycle tail rack. Because the load is awkward, it is understood that when we encounter pockets of deep sand she will climb off and walk while I spin through, wrestling to the other side.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 121-2
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 18, 2012, 09:16:03 AM
Each of the first ten checkpoints are five miles apart and require delays while soldiers radio behind and ahead, confirming I am continuing north.  But the further from Luxor I get, the less authorities understand the situation.  Finally, one soldier flatly insists I accept a military escort.  It's useless to argue as armed men clamber aboard sputtering old pickup trucks, eager to protect me from whatever happened a few years ago.
A long-dreamed-about sunset on the Nile is reduced to a muddy glow through a translucent glaze of bug guts on my visor while I'm in a 30 mile-per-hour procession of wailing sirens and flashing blue lights.  An hour later, I am delivered to a local hotel sealed off by soldiers and ordered not to leave. This time they are serious.
"Can I at least go out for Internet?"
An overcautious captain worries for my safety. "No, the manager has agreed to let you use his."
At sunrise, a new game ensues.  At their pace, it will take days to reach Cairo, so when they assign new escorts at checkpoints, I quickly ditch them at traffic snarls.  Freedom is brief but delicious. Annoyed by my antics but friendly to a fault, soldiers at the following road-blocks patiently plead that I wait for new escorts.
Recognizing the overkill, still, no one wants to accept responsibility for mishaps, so they all do as they are told.  But even when they sometimes catch up with me, the sternest commanders break into toothy smiles when I pull off my helmet, laughing.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 130
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 19, 2012, 10:40:27 AM
The quickest way to meet fellow motorcyclists when you're travelling to experience a problem.  It seldom takes more than minutes for local riders on bikes or in cars to spot a brother down and stop to offer assistance.  Flat tires and empty fuel tanks can occur anywhere, but bikers in distress don't wait long.
Drive chains and rear-wheel sprockets are high-wear items that eventually need replacement.  If we pay attention, half-worn sprockets can be unbolted and reversed to extend their life.  For unknown reasons, the teeth on mine went from starting-to-wear to full-blown fishhook-shapes in 100 miles.
Complications never occur when convenient- only in the rain or on a desert road after dark. In this case, it was both. Motorcyclists learn to constantly listen for unusual clinks, sputters or metallic grating noises that alert us to impending mechanical failure. There is usually a warning just prior to a final snap. So when my engine RPMs abruptly increased and the bike immediately slowed, it was obvious the rear chain had jumped off the worn-out sprocket teeth.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 152
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 20, 2012, 09:04:31 AM
Even with a discount on the brake pads and rear sprocket, the prices are outrageous.  But Nadav says, "Don't worry, we'll handle maintenance on the house." With that, two technicians spend the next hour inspecting my bike for other potential problems.  There are another 6,000 miles ahead through Pakistan, India and Nepal, where there are no parts or mechanics familiar with BMW.  Nadav, concerned about this, gives me personal contact information in case I need help. Although long-riders don't take this kind of hospitality for granted, we're accustomed to the brotherhood of motorcycle riders.  We may be from different countries and cultures, but when it comes to our passion, we all speak the same language.  As others in the world bicker among themselves, those in the biking community are anxious to meet and lend a hand.  One more reason to believe there is no better way to experience the world than on two wheels.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 153
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 21, 2012, 09:04:18 AM
Although India is supposed to be worse, there's no way to describe how bad driving is in southern Pakistan.  At dusk, the road transforms from semi-organized double-lane pavement to a death- wish bumper-car ride to hell on a single strip of dirt and mud travelled in both directions simultaneously- with no one using their brakes.  It's hard to believe what's happening.  Riding on the out-skirts of Karachi had put me on edge, but now I can only gasp in apprehension.  The last four hours have turned into a suicide ride by collision-seeking demons determined to meet Allah.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 169-170
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 22, 2012, 04:46:17 PM
Ignoring shouts from soldiers waving their arms, I rocket past flashing blue lights, looking straight ahead.  Aware that capture is inevitable, nothing matters except this joyous dash from the chaos. I unleash the ponies anyway and soar onto the seamless tarmac of heaven, followed by crying  sirens and highway police in hot pursuit.  Troopers approach.
"From which country do you travel?"
"Hello my name is Glen, how are you? I come from California."
After accepting stupid-foreigner excuses for not seeing them, we engage in amiable debate why it's unsafe for motorcycles on a super-highway.
"We are responsible for your safety Mr. Glen and you must return to the small road." Realizing the flaws in their argument, we reach a compromise.
"We will please to honour you for tonight at our camp.  You can sleep there.  And as you wish, you may demand our service to you.  We will prepare meals according to your satisfaction." Thirty minutes later, chicken and rice is served in a chilly but empty 20-bed dormitory, followed by photos and tea with the commander.  In the morning, there is a timid knock at sunrise.  The soft-eyed police sergeant from last night is holding a tray.
"We have prepared for you these boiled eggs and hope they are to your acceptance." The recital continues. "It gives us pleasure that you restored your sleep and we have prepared to escort you to the small road."
As for me, I am almost to the place to which I am going.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 172
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 23, 2012, 12:12:18 PM
The roads are as terrifying as promised but not as death-defying as the ride from Karachi.  Warned of the touts and thieves in Delhi's motorcycle district, I've prepared for the worst. 
Bargaining down prices for new driving lights from ten dollars to nine was easy, witnessing the installation was priceless.  Preferring my own hands, one other than Jimmy or white-smocked BMW techs should touch the Beast.  But how bad could someone err bolting on lights and attaching two wires?  Determined to impress the foreigner, ten pairs of oily hands compete to tape connections and reroute electronics until neither the horn nor ignition function.  Finally, one light shines up and the other straight down- "That's okay Mr. Glen, better to see the trees and watch the front tire."
It was useless trying to explain why wiring should be tucked away neatly; they were far too proud to be corrected.  Everything could be reassembled later when no one was looking. 
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 178
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 24, 2012, 12:24:17 PM
Indians are the most curious people yet.  Within moments of stopping, mobs of inquisitive black-haired natives gather for a lengthy interrogation. "From which country are you?" "What is your good name sir?"  Scooter riders flatter,  "Your motorbike is looking very graceful today."  While testing the throttle and brakes, all the switches must be flipped by the crowd as they take turns trying on my helmet.  The rest is standard talk about cost, speed, mileage, the number of gears and how long I've been on the road.  None understand ABS brakes or a bike with electronic fuel injection.  Strict protectionist Indian legislation prohibits imported cars.  Foreign brands must be manufactured in India, so they are unaware of the latest technology.  Few have even heard of BMW automobiles, let alone seen intergalactic-looking motorcycles with big aluminium boxes packed with unimagined items.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 179-180
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 25, 2012, 08:44:52 AM
It's usually best to wade in first with a long probing stick, but sunset was fast approaching.  Tired of waiting for someone to appear who might know exactly where to cross, I rolled the dice. 
Halfway across, the bottom was still visible until I abruptly hit a pothole, sinking the Blue Beast instantly to mid-tank level and over the top of the seat.  A wet body is manageable; a wet intake manifold is not.  Engine air snorkels on BMW Dakars are purposely set high for this reason, to facilitate river crossings in up to three feet of slow-moving water.  Turning around midstream was not an option, and with fifty feet left there is no way for me to tell if the bottom dropped further or sloped up to a welcome climb out.
As chilly water gushed into my boots, I nudged the bike fast enough to stay upright yet slow enough to keep fluid from flowing into the snorkel.  The strategy was complicated by the need to stay prepared to squeeze the clutch if the motor coughed. Sucking water into a running engine is a bad idea under any circumstances, but out here in the boondocks at sunset- it could be a big issue.  To my relief, a gradual incline led to higher ground.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 189
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 26, 2012, 10:25:05 AM
I awakened to the tantalizing call of the mighty Himalayas.  Formed by colliding tectonic plates 60 million years ago, the windswept, icy peaks are still on the rise, six inches a year.
That notion alone has me giddy with anticipation of soaring through mountain curves until sundown.  The asphalt is wavy but smooth, and at long last empty straightaways provide welcome room for the Blue Beast to stretch its legs.  Once I've overtaken convoys of tanker trucks, a steady spiral upwards from the Indian plains leads into forested foothills of Everest.
Boasting some of the best scenery in Asia, Nepal is home to 10 of the 14 highest mountains on earth.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 205
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 27, 2012, 08:48:58 AM
Covering a 30-mile shortcut to the main highway consumes four hours, but, from that junction, riding becomes an eardrum-popping soar into the mountainous mist of the towering Himalayas.  Commercial traffic is confined to tightly packed, chugging convoys of diesel trucks, while speeding local motorcyclists haul colourfully dressed Nepali women sitting sidesaddle.  Corroded electrical connections have rendered my GPS useless, and there is no English on the road signs.  But after concerns that I'll be travelling past dark, the rust-tiled rooftops of Kathmandu soon poke upwards into the radiant skyline.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 208
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 28, 2012, 10:31:30 AM
And there is no forgetting the 20-year-old Dutch girl who had been backpacking solo across southern India when it struck her that two-wheels was more challenging.  Nine riding lessons later, she was en route to Kathmandu on her first motorcycle- alone.  The last I saw of her, in a Thamel District backstreet hostel, she was double-checking her saddlebags, heading for Tibet.
World motorcycle travel is nothing new.  Swilling down Indian beers in a Chitwan Park cafe, an 82-year-old Scotsman recounted his adventure of 1956, riding from Sri Lanka to London on a German- built 49CC one-half horsepower scooter- cruising at a thumping 22 miles per hour.  His mesmerizing tale prompted obvious questions: "Tell me sir, do you ever miss the two-wheeled thrill?"
"Aye, that I do, I do. That's why I've rode 'ere now on me bicycle!"
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 216
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 29, 2012, 08:39:16 AM
At that time, big-bore bikes were illegal in Thailand, so I shipped a 1985 Yamaha V-Max from California to Penang, Malaysia, to sneak across the border along a notorious smuggling route. Off I rode, using gas station maps written in unfamiliar languages while gawking at road signs trying to memorize their mystifying symbols.  A purple metal-flake helmet kept most of the wicked monsoon rains at bay, and a small set of throw-over nylon saddlebags held an extra set of dry clothes and canned food.  Spare parts were unavailable.
Fast forward into the cyber-age, where long-riders can remain in constant contact with each other - ahead or behind, with hardly a week passing without an exchange of message of some kind.  Using Internet connections in major cities, we can update each other on border problems, road conditions and civil disturbances.  Yet even with the high-tech advantages, there're still enough unknowns to keep the journey challenging.  Almost every developing nation is in turmoil and subject to sudden violence from rebels or governments.  Bridges and roads still wash out, while earthquakes, typhoons or equipment failures always arrive when least expected.  Still, alien cultures and fascinating traditions continue to dazzle even the most experienced wanderer.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 225-6
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 30, 2012, 10:57:04 AM
Several days past our last communication, while cutting through an arcade parking lot, a long-haired man with a Canadian accent steps in front of my bike. "Glen Heggstad! Striking Viking! It's me - Art Kernaghan!"  We spent the next few hours like old friends, ranting about recent routes and adventures.
I tried hard not laugh when I saw the $150 clanker he'd been riding from Saigon.  Guided by the sympathetic hands of fate, this young man from Toronto had somehow passed through the twisting mountains of Laos into the Land of Smiles.  Grinning with pride, he stood chest-out, displaying his smoking two-stroke 12 horsepower 125CC sputtering weed-whacker on two wheels.  Motorcyclists call these wheezing rattletraps Rat Bikes.
On one side of the bike, village-made steel racks supported a plastic beer crate packed with tools and spare parts, while on the other, a backpack was held firm with overstretched bungee cords.  Oil seeped from gaskets, a red taillight lens was taped on and a dimly lit headlight only functioned some of the time.  He explained that most of the flickering electronics on the bike had been "sorted out" and that the dubiously thin cables should hold.  In a grimy Vietnamese bike shop, one American dollar bought a new clutch, a few more to straighten bent forks and purchase two locally manufactured tires that might last if he kept the speed down.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 226-7
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 31, 2012, 08:47:46 AM
Depressed and alone, he'd throw up his arms in defeat.  And until stopping to speak with other Western travellers, he'd been headed back to Vietnam to fly home.  But roving Australian strangers had provided much-needed inspiration. "Never give up mate - keep riding.  You don't need anyone but yourself."
Art's destination is south and mine north, but we're having so much fun exploring the spices of Thai nightlife, we opt to zigzag together for a while. Side by side, we growl and sputter amid blue plumes of wing-ding-ding-ding through bustling city streets at a rampaging 20 miles per hour...
The fact that he made it this far is astounding; that he’s continuing, oblivious to the potential mishaps is admirable. To Art Kernaghan, the glass is always half full.  Defying the laws of physics, he bobs and weaves across Thailand with inspired determination and blind faith. He can make it because he believes he can.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 227-8
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 01, 2013, 08:39:32 AM
Next to painting the house, changing a motorcycle tire is the least pleasurable way to spend an afternoon. Yet the Travel Gods had smiled on me once more as a blowout occurred while white-lining through stalled border city traffic. Within seconds, a wobbling Blue Beast slowed to a graceful halt directly in front of a well-stocked motorcycle shop. Twenty minutes and four dollars later, we're back on the road with a new tube, a lubed drive chain and some new friends.  Even the last hundred miles in the rain to Bangkok was uplifting. Motorcycle maintenance is a constant.  For anything not welded solid, if there is a reason for it to wear under the bike's vibration, it will.  Holding out until Singapore to avoid the high-priced imported parts in Thailand wasn't going to work, and recalling a recent raping the hands of Bangkok motorcycle dealers, mercy was unlikely.  Up until now, the local's unwritten rule of two-tier pricing for taxi rides and trinkets has had minimal effect on my travel expenditures. But doubled prices for foreigners on already expensive BMW replacement parts means budget bites in the hundreds of dollars.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 244
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 02, 2013, 12:34:49 PM
Slicing through Malaysian jungle terrain, a seamless asphalt corridor connecting the Thai border with Kuala Lumpur unravels for a straight 300 miles south.  With First World infrastructure, toll stations and chain restaurants replace noodle stands and traffic-clogged small towns.  Car drivers pay fees, but motorcyclists ride free in special lanes to the sides of toll booths.  At my first gas stop, passive Malays welcome me with thumbs-up gestures and the usual question, "Where are you coming from?”
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 253
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 03, 2013, 08:37:59 AM
Without crossing any rivers, the trail appeared exactly where indicated, complete with a sign in three languages - "Road Closed " After verifying I had four gallons of fuel remaining, I reset the trip meter and switched on the GPS Breadcrumbs function to show a dotted line indicating the exact route I had just travelled.  It’s easy to get lost on the hundreds of forks and overrun trails throughout Borneo, but harnessing the technology of a half-dozen orbiting satellites evens the playing field. Yet this GPS is well-worn, and sometimes vibration shuts down the power connection, erasing recent tracks.
This could cause a problem on the way out.  The first three hours' ride is over a mixture of wheel-wiggling, rocky adobe and sandy gravel - a persistent reminder of departing off the beaten path.  At the 20-mile mark, a bulldozed raised barricade blocks the road.  The emptiness beyond is marked by multi- shaded green mountains cursed by trackless miles of mud trails and landslides.  As advised, the road has been abandoned, but has the jungle?  Why has the logging company sealed the forest?  Indigenous people around the world resent international corporations raping their natural resources. Would the natives accept or reject a wandering Westerner violating their isolated wilderness on a shiny blue riding machine?  Were tribal troubles ahead?
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 262-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 04, 2013, 08:52:06 AM
Through an early morning mist, the deteriorating trail grows thick with creeping vines and storm-eroded gullies.  It was a pleasant ride dry, but after a solid rain, the return trip would be a miserable, perilous slide.  How big a fool rides solo into an unforgiving rain forest hoping it will not rain?  Yesterday, the decision came down to whether I would keep spinning my wheels in Kapit or spin them in the forest.
The objective was to ride in as deep as possible the first day and take two more getting out. There was no way to judge how far the road would hold - 10 miles or 100?
Just before sunset, after getting buried to my axles in sucking mud one last time, I mark a GPS waypoint and record odometer readings - 55 miles of delightful, challenging jungle track in eight exhausting hours.  After setting up camp in the sweltering tropical heat, eating imported apples and canned sardines by the iridescent glow of a silvery rising moon served as the grand finale of an adventurous day.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 263-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 05, 2013, 08:58:16 AM
Often, the quality of an adventure can be measured by what went wrong. But this week's deviation into the rain forest's mystical gardens ends as smoothly as it began. No flat tires, engine failures or tumbles off precarious rocky ledges. Poisonous spiders and snakes kept to themselves, while evil spirits attacked only those who believed in them.
Back in Kapit, local wharf workers lent a hand loading the motorcycle on the first boat heading downriver.  A pipe-smoking skipper, shirtless and sporting tattered, baggy shorts, was pleased to aid a man with wild dreams.  As a penetrating tropical sun caked layers of red clay on my boots, dreams of expanding horizons glowed like red- hot embers.  After this test run for the harsher conditions which reportedly existed on the other side of the island, I'm confident Kalimantan is passable.  My new challenge is laid out - to be the first person to circle the entire island of Borneo on two wheels.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 265
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 06, 2013, 01:02:53 PM
Over fried noodles and boiled eggs, Mr. Gkwa says he knows of a special machine shop that can make a new bushing and bolt for my crippled brake pedal. As one Chinese to another, a wave of his hand signals to the restaurant owner that breakfast is paid for, and we are off to solve my problems. The industrial zone winds through a 10-mile maze beyond Kota Kinabulu and into even rows of modern cement-block shops run by older men speaking only Chinese.  The creative genius of any machinist is amazing, especially when working from enormous piles of rusting salvaged steel. Instead of using his lathe to make a separate new bushing and bolt, this confident artist insists that carving a complex one-piece part is best. Considering the odds of calculating such precise measurements correctly and certain that German engineers had done it right the first time, I reiterate, "No, please just make a separate bushing and bolt."
He laughs, "I make. You no likey you no pay."
Nothing goes to waste in developing countries, especially scrapped metal. Verifying his eyeball calculations with micrometer checks, Mr Wong carefully trims a rusted old hexagon-shaped crowbar on a spinning lathe, creating a part that, in the West, would take a team to design.  The equivalent of five bucks solves problem one.
As a maintenance step, I should have replaced the rear-wheel inner bearings 10,000 miles ago, but procrastination prevailed.  Mr Gkwa also knows of a bearing shop that might supply cross-referenced BMW parts.  An afternoon passes puttering across town in his rattling old pickup truck being entertained by haggling Chinese merchants hunting down fresh wheel bearings. Mr Gkwa is the ultimate fix-it man, and we proceed to the next step. With critical parts now in hand, an aging mechanic stares through coke-bottle glasses muttering, "Can do, can do." 
From riding through storms and river crossings, hardened steel balls have rusted into shattered fragments that dribble out when the wheel is removed. A debate rages in Mandarin as expert fingers scrape away debris and tap in new bearings.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 268
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 07, 2013, 12:58:06 PM
So that was then and this is now, and what the hell am I doing back in the ring gagging for air in some tropical jungle?  The word impossible has always been a challenge to me, even if there wasn't much to gain beyond bragging rights. If so many people hadn't claimed looping Borneo was impossible, I probably would be relaxing right now in a comfortable Kuching hotel.  But as I am discovering, there are good reasons why no one else has done this. It has taken me five 12-hour days merely to cover the first thoroughly fatiguing 300 wheel-spinning miles.  A Trans-Siberian crossing is a cakewalk compared to this.  Muscling 600 pounds of motorcycle on a hard surface is tiring enough.  In slick mud, sitting on the seat paddling with burning legs while pushing on the handlebars is exhausting.  But to be honest, I would not have felt so alive without those familiar lung-burning gasps for air. If I can ride Borneo, I can ride anything.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 278
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 08, 2013, 10:13:02 AM
When clearing the last bog and asking a woodsman in sign language how much further this misery goes on, I am uncertain if he answered 10 miles or 10 minutes.  On the edge of the equator, a relentless tropical sun boils a gallon of moisture from my flesh every eight hours.  The fatigue is so intense I lack the strength to sit upright, let alone continue paddling with my legs and feet.  But gazing ahead into the vibrant, forbidding jungle exhausted, stinking and hungry, I cannot recollect when I've felt more content.  And thank god for those youngsters who twice lifted the bike off my leg while I was laying sideways.  They seemed to enjoy following me, as they could walk faster than I could ride through the slop.  At the point of total exhaustion, thinking it impossible to push through the mud any further, they suddenly rushed to my aid, shoving from behind.  While I stand red-faced and gasping for air, the inspiring Dayak girl holding my helmet shocks me when urging in decent  English, "Come on mister, you've got to try harder. I know you can do it."
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 279
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 09, 2013, 10:53:19 AM
The shock of the day came at the end while unsnapping my aluminium panniers in the hotel parking lot. Noticing an unusual gap between the fender and frame, I discovered that the false exhaust pipe containing 15 pounds of hard-to-replace vital spare parts had vanished.  My rachet tools, tire irons, patch kit and spare brake pads lay somewhere in the last 100 miles.  Twelve hours a day of jack-hammering had taken its toll.
Double-nutted bolts supporting the stainless-steel tube had sheared in half. Because my last set of brake pads had cost me 180 bucks in Israel, I'd been waiting until they were completely shot to change them - now, front and rear were nearly worn down to bare metal.  Because of their superior stopping power, I use sintered pads likely unavailable in Asia.  Even in a major city, the typical customs- clearing delays to get express-mailed spares could take weeks, if they made it at all.
It's too early to know if the worst is over or just beginning, but I have come to accept that real adventure starts when things stop going as planned.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 282
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 10, 2013, 07:52:05 AM
Coal miner Mohammad Siah explained that with a Korean corporation covering his room and board, at the end of five years, even ' while supporting his parents, he could retire rich enough to buy a house and motorcycle- raising his status to most-desirable in the eyes of Indonesian girls looking for husbands.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 283
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 11, 2013, 09:26:25 AM
"Thanks for the offer, but I prefer a walk downtown to meet the people.”
"No. you can only go out in the daytime, never at night."
"Why, is it dangerous?"
"Yes” he says, drawing his finger across his throat, "Dayaks."
"But you are Dayak."
"My mother is Dayak but my father is from Java, so I am only half-dangerous."
"Okay, can you tell me about the road to Sukamara?"
Waving his hand up and down through the air, he replies, "That is 500 kilometers from here and the road is like this. Travelling there by motorbike will take three days."
Pointing outside, at the pavement, I ask, "Is the road like that," then, indicating the dirt, "or like that?" Walking outside he selects a baseball -size rock and says, "No, it is mostly these."
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 288
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 12, 2013, 11:16:48 AM
But it's been five weeks since I left Kuching, and with unknown mileage to cover until the finish line, my growing frustration makes me ride faster than conditions allow and makes me continue when it is time to rest.  We follow our own rules in life because experience teaches the consequences of breaking them.  Sometimes lessons need to be repeated. 
Going down on dirt is generally less damaging than colliding with asphalt, still the bike and body always suffer some harm.  When I'm off the beaten path, more than mechanical failures, I fear a broken limb from a crash.  Even minor tears in the flesh offer convenient pathways for toxic microbes and tropical diseases.  In the event of serious injury, there is no way out of here.  If I was found over- turned in some bottomless ravine or shivering with fever, who would know what to do?
Even on a lighter bike with knobby tires, motorcyclists are never in complete control riding in mud. Mud is the great equalizer.  Using dual-purpose street tires while slinging 600 pounds of motorcycle adds negative factors to the equation.  The numbers are simple, after 2,000 miles of mostly rugged dirt track complicated by mud, it is not a matter of if but when and how many times a rider does an over-handlebars face-plant.  Until today, I had been lucky with only a few slow-moving spills where the main problem was developing enough traction for my boots while I tried to get the bike upright.
But today was payday for breaking the rules.  Headlight filaments expire quicker under vibration and heat, but seldom do both go at once.  My high beam had burned out last week, the low beam yester- day.  Just before sunset, the best I could determine from quizzing a team of boar hunters, the next village was three hours away via the feeble glow of my remaining front-end parking lamp.  Do I stop and camp or roll the dice?
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 293
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 13, 2013, 11:46:04 AM
After the sun dropped below treeline, seeing where damp clay turned slick was difficult, but my front wheel washing out sideways delivered the news.  Over the handlebars and somehow landing on my knees, I ended up lying in the road assessing the damage.  My chest had taken out the windshield and mirrors, while ramming into solid earth had torn loose the left side aluminium pannier.  The impact snapped stainless-steel fasteners while bending the support frames - again.  Except for a swelling left knee, my padded riding clothes absorbed enough of the impact to minimize the damage to me.
But help is never far away. While I use a hardwood tree branch to straighten the frame, a lone Dayak teenager on a motor-scooter putters over the hill, stopping to aid the alien.  His surging headlight illuminated the scene enough for me to strap luggage pieces together to get moving again.  Rami tells me it is another 25 miles to his village, but he will ride slowly to guide me.  Attempting this journey in darkness stretches a three-hour ride into six.  Peeking from behind silky veils of fluorescent clouds, a silvery full moon brightens the road barely enough to see shadows.  Soon, I trail Rami into the night, trying to avoid dangers stuck in my mind but impossible to see.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 294
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 14, 2013, 09:22:39 AM
In daylight, this would be difficult, without lights at night, its a panicky plunge into the unknown.  All I can do is follow the weaving silhouette ahead and not look down.  The darkness plays tricks.  Did Rami swerve to avoid a mud puddle or finally disappear?  I wasn't sure until I'm abruptly buried to the bike's axles, two feet under water, sinking and spinning my tires while the engine furiously pumps gas bubbles from a submerged exhaust.  How could only two men free 600 pounds of rubber and steel from oozing mud?  Wading to our hips in muck, Rami pushes from behind as I pull from the side, delicately feathering the clutch against the desperate gurgle of the laboring motor.  Forty-five minutes of inching free of the bog underlined the grim realization that there would be five more hours of creeping through twilight shadows until we'd find shelter and sleep.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 294-5
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 15, 2013, 09:30:27 AM
In the Chinese language, negatives don't seem to exist as we understand them in the West.  Whenever describing exactly what I have needed to the Chinese, their invariable one-word response is, "Can." Today was typical:
"Mr. Hoi, are you able to install these bearings?"
“Can."
"Are you sure Mr. Hoi, it requires careful removal of-"
Without bothering to look he interrupts, "Can."
"But what about the- "
“Can."
"And are you able to rebuild the -"
"Can."
Since the first major motorcycle center in Malaysia had just opened, its inexperienced shop manager in Kuala Lumpur could only order steering-head bearings exclusively from Germany.  But Mr. Hoi, a few miles away, had those same hard-to-find bearings upstairs in his race-bike shop, and after soldering a few broken wires, he installed them for 20 dollars.  From there, his assistant led me through the backstreets across Kuala Lumpur to have his cousin replace the foam cushion in my now hard-as-a-rock motorcycle seat.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 303
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 16, 2013, 09:14:24 AM
A super-organized, high-tech city state famous for laws so strict they prohibited chewing gum, the red tape required for entering with a motorcycle had made Singapore not worth the trouble of visiting.  Even with a carnet de passage, the Federal Transportation Department still requires an endorsement by their Auto Club plus 36 dollars a day for insurance along with prepayment of expensive road tolls. But once we reached the official entry point, a quick passport stamping at immigration ended in two lines for customs inspection.  Counting on being able to play Stupid Foreigner if caught, after acknowledging a nod from Murphy, I took a chance and followed the lane with a sign reading "Nothing to Declare."  When I finished quickly flipping the lids on my panniers, a serious teenaged machine gun-wielding soldier waved us both through without asking for further paperwork.  In bypassing the mandatory carnet de passage inspection, I became an illegal alien in a Utopian police state where electronic surveillance of its citizens is standard procedure.  From remote-controlled traffic signals managed by distant observers to restricting certain vehicles from driving downtown, even the hallways of my budget hotel are monitored by closed-circuit TV.  If border inspectors later asked for vehicle documents at the same checkpoint, getting out of Singapore was going to be interesting.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 304
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 17, 2013, 10:11:44 AM
As with America's Bible Belt, Third World life centers on God and family, with strong convictions concerning morality.  Although no one ever mentions my religion, during typical roadside cafe chats, natives in every country constantly ask, "Where is your wife?"
With eyes half-closed while waving my hands in holy gestures, solemnly I declare, "As a high priest in the Sacred Order of Confirmed Bachelors, I am forbidden to marry." Those listening nod with a knowing respect as I continue, patting the shiny blue tank of my faithful machine, and pronounce with utmost sincerity, "This is the only wife I am ever allowed to take."
Gasping as though a spiritual revelation has just occurred, the surrounding barefoot crowd dressed in shorts and T-shirts murmur among themselves, "Ah, the only wife to take, the only wife to take…
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 326-7
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 18, 2013, 09:15:04 AM
Next to slapped-together palm leaf-covered noodle stands, the most common roadside business in Asia is tire repair.  Highway shoulders used for dodging oncoming vehicles are minefields of debris popped off lumbering trucks and fragments of past collisions.  Though bikers know to be vigilant inspecting their tires, we seldom find rusted steel shards until a faint hissing sound stops us to pry em out from between wounded treads.  India and Indonesia have been the worst for punctures.
If not stopping to inspect an unmistakable rear-end wobble, I wouldn't have noticed sprays of engine oil dripping across the tank.  Sidetracked by natives during a morning fluid check, I'd forgotten to secure the oil cap.  For the previous hour, darkened oil splattering in the wind had also been coating the front of my jacket and pants.  Sweating and cursing under shady banana trees on a stretch of road between towns, I did not have to wait long for assistance. At times, the locals can be annoying, firing the same questions I'd fielded from the last group only an hour before, but they also appear when most needed. Flat tires are always a hassle, but being stranded miles from a town compounds the problem.  Temporary glue-on sticky rubber squares are unreliable patches and usually leak after tires warm up. A new tube is cheap enough, but if they're unavailable, the heat vulcanizing patches are best.  And how to find a tire shop in unfamiliar territory?
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 327-8
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 19, 2013, 02:05:23 PM
Within minutes after parking and removing the rear wheel, two teams of eager volunteers on little flashy scooters surround the disabled alien.  Passing motorists notice the swelling crowd competing to assist me and stop to investigate.  They all volunteer to take my punctured tube to the nearest repair stand.  For the job of courier, I chose the one man wearing a watch, and an hour later he returns in triumph with a 10-bike escort.  After charging just one dollar for the patching, my angels of motorcycle mercy refuse to take tips for their efforts.  Now if only there were decent restaurants.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 328
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 20, 2013, 12:31:29 PM
What guidebooks warned was a serious four-hour hike up to the summit became 20 minutes by motorcycle, twisting up jungle hair-pins to 9,000 feet. But by late afternoon, mild drizzle turning into a full-force storm meant becoming stranded at the top. The highest point in the region, Penanjakan Peak is also a base for remote radio towers and relay stations.  While I stood drenched and staring though greying walls of falling water, the final light of the day faded into a solid fog. In better times, the half-dozen boarded-up shacks near the lookout patio served as souvenir stands for winded trekkers, but after prying apart broken wooden slats, a hollow musty shell became this shivering solo traveller's twilight refuge.  While waiting for rains to ease enough to retrieve camping gear from my bike, a middle-aged bearded man appeared from the darkening shadows.  Draped in dripping green plastic trash bags and without speaking, he motioned with his hands to follow.
Unsure if I'd been busted for burglary or rescued from the elements, Agil Kurniawan's cramped five-by-eight-foot brick cubicle provided instant relief from biting winds.  As exterior temperatures nose-dived, the orange glow of his electric cooking plate was warming enough to begin to dry my waterlogged riding clothes.  Cluttered with a nine-inch flickering TV, a few handheld transmitters and a rack of eating utensils on top of boxed clothing, there was barely room in here for one.  Folding away his makeshift rainsuit, Agil repeated familiar greetings, "Dart manna mistuh?"  (You come from where sir?) 
"Nama saya Glen.  Saya orang Amereeka."  (My name is Glen and I am original of America.)  Using a dented metal cup to scoop a bowl of rice from his cooker, he asked, "Apa kabar?  Mau makan?"  (How are you? Do you want to eat?)
I nodded, and he sprinkled a plate with steaming white grains and chunks of smoked fish heads that were spicy enough to melt plastic.  Sitting cross-legged, eating in silence, it was obvious this wandering alien was now trapped by the intensifying evening storm.  Pointing to the raised plywood platform filling half the tiny room, said "Tidur desanah."  (You sleep.)  Waving away my objections, he rolled out a greasy horse blanket onto the cold concrete floor and insisted that I use his bed.  Debate was useless, so we spent the next two hours studying my computer images of faces and scenes from distant cultures.  While tracing my route around the globe, Agil smiled and stared as if he was hearing about life on Mars.  Even explaining the other islands of Indonesia was difficult- he understood only Java.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 332-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 21, 2013, 08:27:25 AM
In the morning, crisp dawn air was locked in thick fog while I manhandled the Beast up the final steps to what should have been a perfect volcano photo shoot.  Bromo's ellusive panorama was still obscured, but after coming this far I waited, hoping the sky would clear by noon.  It did not, and I realized that if not leaving soon, another storm would surely cause me further delay.  I was worried about complications airfreighting out of Bali next week as the regulations were rumoured to have changed.  A quick island hop south was imperative.
After a long farewell handshake, I held forth a few rupiah, but like those befriending me before, he shook his head in annoyance, indicating by pointing that hospitality comes from the heart.  Hooking leathered brown fingers together, he stumbled through what he had written down using my dictionary, "Mistuh Glan, we brother forever."
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 333
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 22, 2013, 08:57:19 AM
While I was standing in line transferring planes in Malaysia, an Indian Sikh sitting in cross-legged meditation suddenly opened his eyes to wave me closer.  With his bulging head layered in a white linen turban, he radiated a sage's wisdom.  From behind a scraggly beard framing a tan, wrinkled face, he stared directly into my eyes, uttering these simple words: "Many great things lie ahead of you.”  As abruptly as he surfaced, he cast down his gaze and retreated to where he had been journeying, and I, with no further apprehension, took a confident step toward the immensity of Africa.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 346
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on January 22, 2013, 09:12:27 AM
While I was standing in line transferring planes in Malaysia, an Indian Sikh sitting in cross-legged meditation suddenly opened his eyes to wave me closer.  With his bulging head layered in a white linen turban, he radiated a sage's wisdom.  From behind a scraggly beard framing a tan, wrinkled face, he stared directly into my eyes, uttering these simple words: "Many great things lie ahead of you.”  As abruptly as he surfaced, he cast down his gaze and retreated to where he had been journeying, and I, with no further apprehension, took a confident step toward the immensity of Africa.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 346

Beautifully and articulately written Biggles.  Thanks for sharing.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 23, 2013, 08:30:09 AM
Arcing concrete slopes of elevated overpasses guide whizzing automobiles outwards into upscale suburbs of fenced-in security.  If people were not driving on the opposite side of the road, this could be a European-tinted California churning with Southern hospitality.  In restaurants or gas stations, everyone wants to chat with musical accents from 11 distinct languages blossoming into English.  And even the roaming squads of beat cops seem reasonable.
The aggressive manoeuvres I'd learned navigating Asia prompted the traffic police to stop me a dozen times.  Cowboy road tactics acceptable on chaotic Java are serious offences in the orderly West.  Wrong direction rides on one-way streets or in between pillars on sidewalks are as shocking as parking in hotel lobbies- a common practice in developing countries.
Cyber-linked readers still follow my movements vicariously from computers around the world.  Because of my online journal, Cape Town motorcyclists have emailed invitations to stay in their homes.  South African generosity is overwhelming.  But abiding by the traveller’s three-nights-only rule, I swap Steve and Sharon's home-cooked meals and satellite TV for a return to the seclusion of a run-down backstreet hostel.  Abandoning the ruggedness of the open road has made returning to civilization awkward, and there are blunt realities ahead to prepare for.  Idling in the comfort of Western countries, seasoned travellers lose their edge.  A sterile environment of relative safety dulls senses vital for a quick reaction. Survival reflexes and the smell of danger become clouded back in the cushy West, where little can go wrong.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 347
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 24, 2013, 08:15:57 AM
In rush-hour traffic, with belligerent commuters competing to get ahead, I should have been on high alert.  Halfway into a multi-lane intersection, a speeding woman lost in her cell phone ignored the red light.  A car-length ahead, the driver on her left snagged her front bumper with his, sending them both spinning sideways.  The sturdy hands of Thor slowed his rotation enough to abruptly come to a rest with the tip of his fog light tapping my front wheel.  Another few feet and I would be dictating this from a body cast.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 347
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: SToz on January 24, 2013, 02:24:57 PM
Where's the bit where he says " you look hot today Rhonda.......like a sunrise"

and she says "kiss me ka-tut"??????

Where's that bit?....... :rofl :crackup :rofl :crackup

(my apologies in advance)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 24, 2013, 03:37:14 PM
Where's the bit where he says " you look hot today Rhonda.......like a sunrise"

and she says "kiss me ka-tut"??????

Where's that bit?....... :rofl :crackup :rofl :crackup

(my apologies in advance)


 :think1   

You lost me at "Rhonda".   :crazy     :o
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: SToz on January 24, 2013, 04:09:56 PM
Where's the bit where he says " you look hot today Rhonda.......like a sunrise"

and she says "kiss me ka-tut"??????

Where's that bit?....... :rofl :crackup :rofl :crackup

(my apologies in advance)



 :think1   

You lost me at "Rhonda".   :crazy     :o


Sorry Biggles..... I think it's the AAMI add on TV!?


You've never seen it????

AAMI Insurance - AAMI Claim Assist App - Rhonda returns from Bali (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ri-Pl-njZM8#)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 24, 2013, 04:13:29 PM
Ahhh!  The Bali scene.  Now I'm with it.  Just don't have a ready recollection of the TV ads, and didn't immediately see the connection.   8)   
The original scene of car chaos in the intersection is certainly reminiscent of biker's near-miss.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 25, 2013, 08:58:12 AM
National news is dominated by horrifying reports, yet no one has done anything outrageous to me except smile and wave.  Meanwhile, deep, foaming seas are always an awesome way to change the pace.  Day rides over twisting ribbons of coastal highway led to encounters with roving baboons guarding the Cape of Good Hope.  South African cliff-side glides next to exploding breakers are the most spectacular on earth.  Along strands of vanilla beaches, suntanned blonde bunnies with crystal blue eyes are as friendly as the local boys, asking the same questions as Indonesians.  Without my quest to traverse this continent, this wayward spirit could easily be convinced to pause and linger.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 348-9
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 26, 2013, 11:47:21 AM
Had I not recently been smirking about the fact I'd seen no other cars or humans tor the last 24 hours, a ruptured tire in the desert would have been more tolerable.  Yet, if that pattern continued, my trash sack containing drained water bottles and empty cans of food would become unwelcome reminders of the folly of travelling alone.  What was a retired judo instructor doing in Africa anyway? Suddenly, California never looked so good.
Four hours flipping through mental files of dead-end solutions produced nothing.  My carefully stored aluminium tire irons had been claimed by the mud holes of Borneo, yet two screwdrivers worked carefully with long-handled wrenches could substitute.  Still, inserting the backup tube into a tire ripped this bad would be futile.  Once reinflated, the soft rubber would immediately bulge through the slit and burst.  Anywhere else in the world, a rusted old pickup truck filled with locals would surely ramble along to the rescue.  Here, in this isolated section of the Namib Desert, there weren’t even birds or telephone poles.  Yet, sooner or later, a cavalry arrives.
Remembering their names would be more polite, but at least I took their photo, a handsome young Italian couple out sightseeing in a rented four-by-four rolled up just before sunset- the most welcome sight all day.  Discovering their tool kit contained a long handle tire iron was the inspiration I needed to contend with the approaching dusk.
There had been no traffic in the daylight, and there would certainly be none at night.  Since abandoning the bike is never an option the possibility of sitting roadside for days had been my most recent fear.
The Italian couple's car tire iron worked well easing the casing off, and packing in a new tube was like any other repair.  But how would I pinch and hold a gaping gash together enough to cover the 40 miles to the next campground and telephone?  Nylon straps used when cinching down the bike for air transport would serve a second purpose.  Trimmed to fit the circumference of the tire, I could tighten three of them enough to close the gap and keep the tube from popping out.  A 10-inch strip cut from the old tube with the ends folded over and under the nylon straps should keep them from fraying on jagged gravel stones. After adding air from a 12-volt pump, followed by grateful hugs farewell, I was off into the uncertainty of a blackening desert night.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 352-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 27, 2013, 12:07:56 PM
Whatever the direction, once out of southern Africa, there is a 5,000-mile stretch to the Mediterranean which spare parts do not exist for larger motorcycles.  Since tires are double the price of anywhere else, to stay on budget, Antonie sent me a 50-dollar used one with a quarter of the tread life remaining.  On my plan-of-no-plan, predicting wear patterns and estimating arrival dates makes coordinating international supply shipments a logistical challenge.  With 2,000-miles left to Livingstone, Zambia, where fresh tires are scheduled for delivery, timing is going to be tight.  Anyway, the newly paved double-lane Trans-Kalahari Highway beginning from the coast is easier on rubber than the previous long stretches of sharp gravel road.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 355
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 28, 2013, 09:24:08 AM
The Mbeyo Baptist Church was built with the same mud-and- pole materials as the rounded huts, only bigger and square with a hard-packed dirt floor and rows of uneven sawed wooden benches. Inside, as two young boys warmed up on goatskin drums, the low humming choir began to shuffle with gyrating hips, matching the rhythm of a hollow barrel beat.  Between powerful harmonizing vibrations and subtly stamping bare feet, a fine dust filled the air, almost obscuring the undulating slow-motion dance.
Clear, alternating octaves from converging voices gave me tingling goose bumps and shivers with hairs on end.  Although swirling airborne particles made breathing difficult, it was impossible to rise or resist the hypnotic lure of entrancing upbeat hymns.  As the Mbeyo Baptist Choir erupted into a spellbinding synchronization of explosive melody, I found myself sucked into the layered extremes of primordial life emerging in the eternal African song.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 357
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 29, 2013, 08:14:21 AM
In off-road conditions, a set of sprockets and chains has been lasting 10,000 miles, but somehow my current ones made it to 15,000.  Now, after crossing into Tanzania, worn to the limits, even riding slowly the chain is failing so quickly I had to stop every 100 miles to tighten the slack as overstretched sections slapped and cut into the metal frame.  Short tugs under acceleration followed by increasing clacking suggested that some time during the next 500 miles to Dar es Salaam, lopping steel links could jump track, jamming into the engine cases.  But, rolling across arid southern highlands, there was much more to think about.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 366
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 30, 2013, 08:44:21 AM
By five o'clock I had made my first Tanzanian friend, a tall, heavy- motorcyclist who, though a third-generation Indian, considers himself African.  Preparing to meet his family for dinner, the unshaven All Hussein was closing his motorcycle workshop when hit with an unexpected vagabond's wish-list for repairs.  Shiite Muslims are strict family men, and staying late to work on some distressed foreigner's faltering bike was the last thing on his mind. But once he'd heard my plea, he offered, "Since you are travelling such a long way, me and my men will work tonight." But wrenching in the dark leads to errors and lost parts, so we agreed to wait until sunrise.
In the morning, uncomfortable with his non-English-speaking crew, when an overly concerned Ali Hussein suggested disassembling the entire drive section for inspection and cleaning, I argued that the rest of the motorcycle is fine and all that was necessary was to unbolt the rear swing arm to replace a worn chain and sprockets- a one hour job with the correct tools.  Fluent in Swahili, Hussein turned, yelling words to his men that made them laugh aloud.
Curious as to the joke, I asked, "What's so funny?"
"I told them you are afraid of their skin."
Embarrassed because he was right, I tried to deny it, "No that's not it, I just prefer not to take things apart unless absolutely necessary. You never know what can break or get misplaced in the process." Still, the truth was, I foolishly questioned their competency because they weren't Germans in white smocks.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 369
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Diesel on January 30, 2013, 05:54:04 PM
Sorry Biggles..... I think it's the AAMI add on TV!?

You've never seen it????


Don't worry Rick - WE all  :rofl :rofl :rofl
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 31, 2013, 09:15:43 AM
"You worry that they won't remember how to put it all back together?"
More comments and more laughter.  But Hussein is forceful, and to my dismay, wins our debate, directing two shoeless young black men with severely callused feet to disassemble the suspension mechanical arms for further inspection.  An hour later they hand me two sets of rusted bearings- the same ones we had just replaced in Borneo.  After riding the washed-away coast near Banda Aceh, saltwater from low-tide beach runs had leaked past protective rubber seals, corroding hardened steel balls and needles designed to spin freely.  Had this damage gone unnoticed, they would have disintegrated and left me stranded on the most rugged section ahead in Africa.  Hussein said, "See, you don't have to worry about my workers they know their job."  Thirty minutes later, a winded errand boy returned with new bearings and fresh oil, while another prepared a homemade arc welder to remove a stripped-out drain plug.  Annoyed at my constantly questioning each manoeuvre, Hussein took me by arm, "Come, lets get out of their way so they can make everything new for our travelling brother. You need to see my empire.”
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 370
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 01, 2013, 08:52:44 AM
Importing a dozen shipping containers a month, outside of South Africa, Ali is the largest motorcycle parts distributor on the continent. This will be good news for Internet-linked international riders who, until now, have been unaware of his presence. In a developing country with limited industrial base, I am amazed to see a warehouse stocked with hundreds of tires and engine rebuild kits.
Yet skilled labour remained a question.  A one-hour chain-and-sprocket swap had turned into eight with a lengthy list of replaced parts, but by the end of the day, a minor turned major repair was complete.  Preparing for the worst, my meek request for the bill was met by Hussein's stern gaze. "There is no bill for you. My shop is absorbing the entire cost for our travelling brother."
He wasn't listening to my objections- even when insisting that I at least pay for parts only made him angry. "I have made up my mind, this is between Allah and me."
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 370
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 02, 2013, 09:19:20 PM
Mind-numbing jarring and bucking was so intense that more gas spilled through the tank breather-vents than was burned by the engine.  Even sloshing battery water slapped high enough to drip from an overflow tube.  And that was the good news.  Normally, when shock absorber fluid begins seeping past worn seals, lack of oil shouldn't cause a compression lockdown. Treated liquids and pressurized gases regulate rebound action, and without them, handling deteriorates into a tolerable, bouncing pogo-stick ride.  Although a blown shock should not remain compressed, mine did, resulting in zero vertical travel to relieve explosive jolting from a jagged road  Even at 10 miles per hour, the vertical forces generated were difficult to endure with the rear section kicking up and slamming back down. Ridges on a deep-cut washboard surface turned into spine-snapping slaps equally destructive to metal frame-welds.  With nothing but thorn tree desert ahead, the only solution was a 10 mile retreat to the relieving shade of the last tribal outpost, with a hope that the natives were friendly.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 379
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 03, 2013, 02:23:41 PM
Unlike blazing desert days, midnight air was crisp and clean. The push of a button made the motorcycle grumble to life.  But my confidence faded as yesterday s brutal jarring resumed even worse than I remembered. There would be no escape in a first-gear crawl, easing over every ridge and rock.  With zero travel in a frozen shock, violent kicking and bucking made simply hanging on to the handlebars a challenge.  At 10 miles per hour without rear suspension, I tried to calculate how many hours it would take to ride 300 miles.  Maybe throttling up to 15 miles per hour would shave an hour or two. Either way, between robbers and vicious terrain, one of Africa's worst roads was ready to bang and test the limits of both my internal organs and a thoroughly abused motorcycle frame. At least riding slow allowed me a chance to evaluate which bumps and gullies to dodge to minimize impacts. Standing on the foot pegs with bent knees was temporary relief but became too tiring, requiring rest stops every 30 minutes.  With fatigued arms and legs, a creeping desert dawn glowed into a bursting orange sunrise.  Soon, wandering Masai camel herders emerged from the thicket with familiar demands. "Pay money! You give me money!" No matter what they were doing, young and old, the moment any tribesmen spotted a wandering foreigner they turned and sprinted forward waving and shouting "Money, money, money!"
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 381
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 04, 2013, 08:48:11 AM
In the afternoon, the moment I ventured outside Jey-Jey's, throngs of unkempt children crowded around me, yelling "Sweets, sweets, give me money, give me pens!"  Although it's clear that the foreigner's role in Africa is strictly for giving, all that I offer is bumpy rides on a limping motorcycle.
Having trained their children to beg, scowling parents glared giggling youngsters abandoned rehearsed scam-lines and jumped with delight, lining up to be next for a spin through town.  Some- times you just have to let kids be kids.  With one eager child on the front and two on the back, it still took a whole afternoon to appease them all.  Following the Pied Piper back to Jey-Jey's, the trailing troops assured me they would stand guard as I swatted away the last of persistent horseflies and tried to forget the situation while spiralling into sleep.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 383
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 05, 2013, 08:51:34 AM
Riding toward the border, there was little to see beyond a deep-cut corrugated road evaporating into the horizon.  Endless ruts and jagged stones threatened to slice vulnerable rubber tires over thousands of flat square miles across evenly spread baseball-sized volcanic rocks.  The scene ahead looked like photos broadcast from robot cameras on Mars.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 384
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 06, 2013, 08:19:05 AM
Tracking down and clearing three of four incoming supply packages through customs was like working a second job. There is still one to go, but that should be easy after spending three days convincing department heads that I don't live here and the new Ohlins shock absorber and Avon tires are not for resale.  There is a constant stream of complications when riding the world, yet the overall experience is so rewarding that after mild grumbling, travellers only remember the good times.  Still, while winding down this journey, a smoother landing would’ve been welcome.  With 5,000 miles to go, it's hard not to dream about California, and the more I ponder returning, the bigger common hassles here seem to grow. I’ve been homeless with limited possessions for the last two years, so considerations of what to do first when returning to Palm Springs pile on top of my already considerable frustrations connected with developing-nation bureaucracies.  And in the middle of Africa, for the first time in a while, concerns about the future over-ride living in the moment- a sure signal that it's time to return to a village.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 391-2
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 07, 2013, 08:04:12 AM
On the pine tree ridge of a 9000 foot mountain summit over-looking the brackish waters of Lake Chamo, the curious inhabitants of Dorze village rushed forward to greet this invading alien.  At the end of a weekly market day, merchants and traders were busy with crystallized rock salt.  At sunset, according to tradition, women shared dried pumpkin gourds of homemade beer as men stayed home guzzling bottles of local whiskey.  But shy village children reacted the same as those in Kenya after the first was coaxed aboard my motorcycle for a ride among bulging banana-leafed huts.  Giggling pandemonium erupted as they scrambled atop my flexing aluminium saddlebags and even stood on a buckling front fender.  But the show was not to be stolen.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 393
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: StinkyPete on February 07, 2013, 12:43:00 PM
Hey Biggles,
After reading a lot of your quotes from "One More Day......." I decided to buy the book to read the bits that you haven't published on the forum.    It's certainly a great read, which I would recomend to anyone who loves adventure motorcycling stories.    :thumb
Pete
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 08, 2013, 08:14:54 AM
Yet, the smaller the society, the stricter the codes of behaviour, and no one likes a thief.  Even in Nairobi, if captured by fed-up crowds, a street criminal is sure to be beaten without mercy.  Assault here appears common among them, but they do not attack visitors, and theft of any kind is rare.  To show trust when visiting villages, without worry, I intentionally leave (but monitor) my camera and GPS left lying on top the motorcycle seat.  That's why the surprise this morning when I noticed, while repacking my laptop, a set of dangling ignition keys had disappeared. 
Like news of a death, waves of shame spread through the crowd in breathless murmuring as young and old approached with heads hung low, offering tearful apologies.  A teenaged translator explained, "This is not our way and we are so sorry.”
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 394
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 09, 2013, 09:20:27 AM
Although there were spare keys stashed under the motorcycle seat, the missing ones had no value and if an opportunity arose, were certain to be returned.  After announcing that I must have dropped them earlier, villagers immediately appeared with candles and torches, combing surrounding grasses on hands and knees.  But as the search turned fruitless, suspicion fell on the young translator who had earlier pleaded to work as my guide- if only I would stay.  For all to save face, I needed an alternate explanation so that they might resurface.  "After I dropped the keys, the children must have found them to play with.  Please announce that I will give five dollars to whoever finds the keys."
At sunrise, I awoke to dozens of chattering villagers taking turns peering in through my tent's skylight screen.  It was an African zoo in reverse.  Unzipping my nylon flaps, I discovered a bag of bananas next to a scribbled apology note.  Amidst worried frowns and hand wringing, the morning mood of sombre concern was soon interrupted by a parting crowd and shouts of delight.  Four-year-old Jalcono Makurmno rushed forward waving a set of familiar shiny keys.  Celebratory cheers led to shaking hands with hundreds of villagers and a triumphant one-motorcycle-parade for the newfound tiny hero.  But it was still time to move on, and, as always, in the wake of a reluctant departure, another family of waving friends vanished into memory through the smudged glass of a vibrating rearview mirror.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 394-5
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 10, 2013, 12:32:11 PM
Long, thick thorns embedded in motorcycle tires and sharp volcame rocks eventually took their toll, and yesterday I lost count after a dozen flats since dawn.  Even in the countryside, whenever I stopped, crowds materialized from nowhere to assist.  A stranger unpacking tools to remove a rear wheel ignites more interest than a lunar landing.  Beginning at a polite distance but edging closer for better views, there was often a volunteer in Western clothes who spoke some English.
"Father, may we be of assistance to you?"
"Father where is the place of your country?"
"I come from California." Nearly as geographically challenged as U.S. college graduates, they reply, "Oh Father, you are English?"
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 396
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 11, 2013, 08:08:15 AM
And finally, as they crowd close enough to block the sun, I rise, impatiently demanding that they all move back.  But within minutes, kicked-up clouds of fine dust indicate they again feel the need to inspect up close the progress of patching a tube.  No one wants to miss anything, and soon my wrenches and screwdrivers are buried beneath leathered feet and dirt rearranged by those pushing and shoving.  Most just wanted to help but were killing me with kindness, and I considered hiring the biggest man to drive them away.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 396-7
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 12, 2013, 08:29:59 AM
(After weeks of negotiations and struggle, Glen managed to airfreight his crated bike out of Ethiopia to Germany and thence to Mexico where he rejoined it to ride home to California.)

Dodging infamous Mexico City traffic required that I get rolling before dawn. And in Centro Historico, just as the first rays of sunlight bounced off the commanding granite bell towers of a Spanish cathedral, I was riding past fast-walking office workers bundled in overcoats with upturned collars. Accustomed to the mild temperatures of Africa, it took me a moment to realize that riding into biting mountain air required foul-weather clothes and heavy gloves. 
Passive old men on early morning strolls responded to my requests for directions with pats on my back accompanied by animations that rivalled Shakespearean players.  Unable to merely indicate the next corner where to turn, with waving arms they felt compelled to describe the building and its historical significance.  Together we formulated an escape route from an awakening megatropolis whose commuters were soon to choke the boulevards leading to the open road.  Against a background of dilapidated shantytowns and honking taxi horns, the exclusive skyscrapers of the glimmering commercial district were the final farewell as I headed northwest toward the Pacific Ocean.
Glen Heggstad  One More Day Everywhere p 408-9
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 13, 2013, 08:14:09 AM
How the old buzzard came to be on the salt was difficult to comprehend.  Under its quaintly old-fashioned fairing his machine was a battered heap, generations old and looking every day of it. He was in similar condition, an elderly codger wearing baggy suit pants that might have been fashionable once, with the cuffs tucked into his grubby socks, not-quite-worn-out tennis shoes and a weathered, black leather biker jacket.  If you asked him a question he was likely to react with the kind of loud and guttural exclamation the aged and crusty use to indicate both deafness and indifference.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 14, 2013, 08:41:36 AM
There was something spooky about the way he stood beside his red, goldfish-shaped machine, one hand resting on its dull flank were alive and in need of reassurance.  And then he was climbing into it, or onto it, with his back sticking out the top like the goldfish's fin breaking the surface.  A team of like-minded misfits was preparing to give him a push start while he yelled instructions at them in some incomprehensible patois.  They should have known better than to encourage such stupidity.  It was bound to end badly and when it did they would be at least partially responsible.
And then he was off, his helpers pushing like maniacs until the thing suddenly caught with an unholy racket and leapt away like the demented fish it so resembled, leaving one of the pushers sprawled flat on his face in the Bonneville salt.
The car full of officials was off after it, accelerating hard to catch up with the red machine until both car and bike settled at about ninety miles an hour, running smoothly across the shimmering salt. The machine was obviously a bit faster than might have been gathered by looking at it in repose. The officials nodded their Stetsons at one another and agreed that, surprisingly enough, everything seemed under control... when suddenly the red oval in front lurched while its rider groped about in its innards for something - a gear lever as it turned out - and changed up a cog.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 12
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 15, 2013, 08:30:04 AM
The machine slewed slightly as the rear tyre spat a shower of salt back at the following car, giving them a brief view through to the nose before it straightened up and hurled a further shovel load all over the car's windscreen.  The salt landed with a solid thump that made the car's occupants duck, and the suddenly bellowing machine in front lit out tor the horizon like a stone out of a slingshot.  It simply disappeared.
There was no catching him, and that was the end of the story until they found him at the other end of the run, standing beside his streamliner, which once again had its little landing wheels extended.
Earl Flanders, the American Motorcycle Association (AMA) steward for Utah's legendary Speed Week, got out of the car and strolled over.  The old guy was looking a bit flustered but, considering he must have been going over 140 miles an hour by Flanders's educated reckoning, that was hardly surprising.  Flanders nodded at him with a puzzled smile that belied a certain new-found respect and which made him look a lot friendlier than he had when he first spied the ancient combination an hour or so earlier. He said something like, 'The old girl seemed to run pretty good.'
'You think so, Earl?' replied the old guy. He seemed as surprised as everybody else.
Earl Flanders nodded again. 'She really took off when you changed into top!'
Once more the old guy looked puzzled. 'Top,' he repeated, shouting like the old deaf coot he was. 'I never got her out of second.'
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 12-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on February 15, 2013, 08:58:54 AM
Sounds like Burt Munro doing the talking/riding  "Worlds Fastest Indian"
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 16, 2013, 12:36:58 PM
Yep, It's Burt Munro.  The movie was that title.  The book covers his whole life.

What he loved most of all, however, was to run his Indian motorcycle.  He'd bought it new in 1920 and tuned and rebuilt it ever since to go faster and faster, until he was sure that with 'just one
good run' he could achieve at least 200 miles an hour. 
What he did not like were high-speed accidents.  He'd survived enough of those to last several lifetimes and he hated the sight of blood, especially his own. And the way his new streamline shell had encouraged the Indian to weave from side to side in the most violent and wayward manner as he approached 150 miles an hour had scared three kinds of crap out of him.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 14
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on February 16, 2013, 03:31:41 PM
It is a good read. He went to america 14 times altogether, not how the movie showed him to have one visit with the 'one good run'. I loved the bit about the 'big gun' and the hole in the neighbours cow!  :eek

 :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 16, 2013, 05:21:57 PM
It is a good read. He went to america 14 times altogether, not how the movie showed him to have one visit with the 'one good run'. I loved the bit about the 'big gun' and the hole in the neighbours cow!  :eek

 :bl11

Another bit of "movie licence".  The book (whose accuracy I would prefer to the movie's) says it was an old farm dog who bore the brunt of the canon's fire.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on February 17, 2013, 07:15:58 AM
No Biggles, I've read that book three times and I was sure it was a cow, so I looked it up and on page 128 first paragraph it says that Bert's daughter Margaret and son John were rabbit shooting when they found a neighbours cow dead with a large hole in it's back after Bert fired the cannon for the last time.

 :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 17, 2013, 12:10:19 PM
There you go.  I'd forgotten the last firing, recalling just the first one with his father present.
=======================================

Why anyone would want to take a 1920 Indian Scout, a fine machine in its day but no rocket, and turn it into an alcohol-burning fire-breather to attack international speed records almost half a century later, at speeds almost four times those it had been capable of when new, was not a question the old rider had ever bothered to the exercise.  He did what he did mainly because meeting the challenge gave him more satisfaction than anything else, with the possible exception of an encounter with a willing woman.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 17
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on February 17, 2013, 01:30:10 PM
Aparently Bert found plenty of 'willing women'. Lucky old bugger!!

 :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 17, 2013, 05:09:01 PM
Aparently Bert found plenty of 'willing women'. Lucky old bugger!!

 :bl11

You could try riding your bike the way he rode all of his:  as if he was invulnerable.
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on February 17, 2013, 08:23:53 PM
True, but I know I am vulnerable and how much it hurts.  :eek  Unlike Bert, I have family comitments and really want to live until I wear out my ST.  :thumb

 :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 17, 2013, 09:18:34 PM
True, but I know I am vulnerable and how much it hurts.  :eek  Unlike Bert, I have family comitments and really want to live until I wear out my ST.  :thumb

 :bl11

OK.  You can forget all the women then, and concentrate on the bike (and family).   :thumbs
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 18, 2013, 09:21:40 AM
McLean … wheeled out the Douglas out and showed Bert the brake, throttle, choke, fuel cock and starting technique.  Douglases were easy to start and Bert soon had the hang of it.  After a couple of loops of the circular driveway he was off down the road on the most exciting adventure life had yet granted him.
The day was warm and he could hear the drone of cicadas and smell the fresh scent of the roadside bracken as he gradually opened the throttle wider and wider.  Soon he was flying along, the gentle blat of the Douglas's engine bouncing back at him whenever the road went through a cutting.  He remembered McLean's warning not to speed through the several fords as the shock of the cold water could split the hot engine, and he eased the machine through the first with hardly a splash.  Then it was back up to full speed, leaning the machine into the steeply banked corners and laughing out loud for the pure joy of it.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 43
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 19, 2013, 09:07:23 AM
Ever since his experience with the Douglas, Bert had dreamed of having another ride and his opportunity came at last when one of new friends offered him a spin on his almost brand-new silver Norton.  He and another mate were going to a dance at a small country hall in Fortrose, about seventy kilometres out of town.  If Bert was keen he could ride the Norton on the way up while the owner pillioned on his mate's Matchless.  They would swap for the return journey, which would be in the dark and therefore somewhat more hazardous.
It was a generous offer and Bert was quick to accept.  The ride up to Fortrose, a small country backwater, was a further revelation.  The Matchless took off like a startled hare and Bert had to keep travelling faster than he would have thought possible and at every corner he expected the lovely Norton to slide onto its side.  But it tracked through the gravel with its front suspension jiggling up and down while Bert bounced in the saddle like a jockey on a trotter.  As he banked the bike through the corners, the exhaust alternatively cackling and roaring, exhilaration flamed through his body.  By the time they got to the dance he had made up his mind: he had to have a machine of his own.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 61-2
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 20, 2013, 09:56:10 AM
On the way home Bert was keeping company with yet another Munro, a distant uncle named Hugh, who was just a few years older than Bert.  Hugh's New Imperial had developed a misfire and he was struggling to keep up.  Bert fell back to make sure he made it home.  From time to time he slowed right down to allow Hugh to catch up and amused himself by practising stunts.  As they were clearing the foothills Hugh came around a corner to see his nephew wheeling briskly down a gentle incline with the bike in neutral, standing on the seat with his arms outstretched.  Hugh nursed his ailing machine alongside and yelled at his grinning nephew,  'Who the hell do you think you are? Jesus Christ on a bloody motorcycle?'
Bert grinned, flipped him a smart salute and then fell off, landing heavily on top of his head.  Certain that the fall must have broken Bert's neck, Hugh skidded to a stop, switched off, dumped the New Imperial on its side and scrambled back to the figure stretched out on the road.  He vaguely heard the Clyno, which had rolled on for a considerable distance, finally crash over.  Bert lay there as if fast asleep, his breathing deep and even.  A careful examination revealed no blood or obvious injuries, so Hugh pulled him over onto the grass verge and rolled up his coat to make a pillow. The Clyno puttered away happily in the background until it Finally coughed and stopped and the afternoon was suddenly awfully quiet. 
There was little Hugh could do except to make himself comfortable and hope another vehicle came along.  He retrieved both machines and placed them on their stands, grabbing a picnic blanket out of his saddlebag to cover Bert.  Dusk began to fall and it was getting dark before Bert groaned and wearily sat up.  His eyes slowly focused on the two machines standing in the gathering gloom.  He gave a puzzled sigh and then suddenly noticed the worried Hugh.  'Oh, hello Hugh,' he said. 'It was good of you to wait.'  He rubbed his head and then calmly stood up. 'Well come on.  We need to get home.'
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 63-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 21, 2013, 08:56:53 AM
Bert enjoyed the Clyno but he was not besotted with it.  It took another bike to give him a bad case of love at first sight.  He was passing the Criterion Hotel car park and saw her sitting there.  She was red but not an obvious red like the Clyno; a more subtle shade tor a more seductive creature.  The elegant script on the side of her shapely tank proclaimed her to be an Indian and at her heart was a neat and compact, narrow-angle V-twin. 
Bert's eyes wandered all over her, noting the way the soft glint of nickel plate contrasted magically with that lustrous red paint.  He patted the rich, tan leather seat, testing the spring and smiling as the saddle bounced back against his palm.  His gaze lingered on the multiple leaf-spring suspension, admiring the simple and solid design, before he got down on one knee like a suitor to gaze upon the shape of her cast alloy primary case.  Like everything about her it was beautifully executed.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 66
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 22, 2013, 08:44:38 AM
One of the best things about the job, other than the fact that paid well at a time when this was rare, was that he got to ride the Indian to work.  It was a good long haul over twisty roads and took several hours.  He always made a point of detouring at speed along the front verandah of the Waimahaka store.  There was a considerable drop at the end of the board verandah and Bert would sail over it, trying to extend his jump each time.  Anyone lucky enough to witness Bert's passing enjoyed a free and quite spectacular show. For the storekeeper, however, the sudden burst of the engine and the thudding progress along his verandah was a constant irritation.  He complained loudly that he could never catch the silly bugger who was bound to break his neck.  By the time he bustled from the counter at the back of his shop to the door to give the bastard a piece of his mind, Bert was always disappearing around the next corner.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 85-6
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 23, 2013, 09:34:34 AM
The club had decided to change the start from one end of the course to the middle, a popular innovation with the spectators, who could now easily see the start-finish line and both turns.  The crowd was kept off the track by heavy ropes strung along posts driven into the sand, although this didn't deter one man from wandering on to the course to fossick for toheroas, the highly prized shellfish that can be dug up at low tide. 
The premier event of the day, the Ten Miles Open Championship, had been flagged away just a few minutes before and onlookers watched horrified as the three leading motorcycles bore down on the man who was now bending over with his back to the action, ignoring all the shouted warnings.  The lead rider, who was mounted on a very rapid 350cc overhead-valve Velocette, veered to the left, missing the man by centimetres at something like one hundred miles an hour.  A split second later the second machine, a big 1OOOcc Indian, screamed past on the man's right.  Bert, who was thundering along in third place and whose vision was obscured by the two leading bikes, did not see him until the last moment.  How he managed to avoid the man, who was now reeling about the beach from the shock of the first two near misses, was something spectators would talk about for some time.  He seemed to almost lift the motorcycle sideways and then skate down the beach in a frightening series of full opposite-lock skids, until by some miracle he brought the machine back under control.  The toheroa hunter scuttled back to the rope barrier without endangering the rest of the field which was now streaming past.  Someone in the crowd gave him an almighty boot in the pants to the cheers of all who witnessed it.  They then turned back to the furious action on the beach.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 100
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 24, 2013, 12:10:28 PM
Casting something as complex as a cylinder head was ambitious for a number of reasons but Bert was cheerfully undeterred and forged ahead.  First of all the negative image of the head needed to be established in a mould full of sand.  This was complicated because a wooden copy, complete with cooling fins poking out at different angles, could not simply be pulled out without destroying the desired impression.  In fact, the wooden pattern had to be made in a number of pieces so that each could be extracted without destroying the desired hollow.  This hollow would eventually shape the molten cast iron Bert had elected to use for his heads.  Second, the internal shape of the head needed to be established during the pour and this required two cores, one for the inlet tract and one for the exhaust port.  These curved shapes were to be made in a core box, using sand held together with a bonding agent, after which they would be carefully positioned in the mould.  If nothing moved during the pour a rough casting of the part would result, ready for the months of careful machining he estimated he'd need to finish it.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 111
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 25, 2013, 08:19:22 AM
At last the day came when his new engine was finished. The old frame had gone through a lot of hard road and race miles and Bert was concerned it might be suffering metal fatigue.  When he saw a gorse fire raging on a hill on his way home from work one afternoon he had an idea that made him to rush back to his shed at even greater speed than normal.  He grabbed the stripped bike frame and threw in into the Model T's trailer, then raced back to the scene of the fire where he hauled the frame through the gorse until he was as close as he could get to the flames and the choking, yellow smoke.  After laying his burden down he staggered away from the intense heat, back to the safety of the road where he climbed into the Model T and drove home.  The following afternoon, once again after work, he retrieved the frame from the now charred hillside, noting with satisfaction that the fire had completely stripped all the oil and paint from it.  He had no doubt the heat of the burning gorse had been intense enough to anneal the metal, relieving any stress points that might have developed.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 113
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 26, 2013, 09:02:50 AM
Bert's trip through Europe was one of the best times of his life.  He quickly hooked up with the tight-knit Australasian contingent competing at the TT, a tradition going back to the earliest days of the contest, relishing the easy camaraderie of the group.  There were some among them aware of his achievements, which lent him a bona fide standing among the larger community of racers.  He was invited to the official TT dinner dance and met all the stars of the day, exchanging notes with such luminaries as Geoff Duke.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 155-6
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 27, 2013, 09:32:51 AM
The smiling Lancastrian had been pleased to share his tips for riding flat out with Bert, who had been equally pleased to reciprocate.  Duke had recently taken up one piece racing leathers and Bert was intrigued by the outfits. Duke assured him he would never race anything else and Bert had made him roar with laughter when he told him he entirely understood. 'I have an old pair of sandshoes back home,' he said, 'that I always wear for record attempts.'
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 156
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on February 27, 2013, 01:21:24 PM
My Quote of the day  :thumb

(http://i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd499/ozstoc/11116_500267733352716_1995371867_n_zps71249e3e.jpg)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 28, 2013, 09:47:35 AM
One such incident occurred when Ashley arrived and found them about to start the Velocette.  Bert suspected his back wheel was buckled and wanted to check it, so he mounted the machine on a block of wood that left the back wheel free to spin a few centimetres off the floor.  Duncan was kneeling behind the machine about to start it by pulling the underside of the rear wheel towards him while the machine was in second gear.  The bike fired up and Bert slipped it into top, all the better to detect a wobble should the wheel prove buckled.  But when he revved the engine hard the machine jumped off the block, bellowing away and spinning its wheel on the floor.  The handlebars were barely big enough for each hand so Ben's grip the bucking machine was marginal, but he had at least managed to grab the front brake.
As the shed began to fill with smoke, Ashley, who had been standing beside the bike and now felt helpless to intervene, backed up against the bench to get as far away as possible while he awaited developments.  They were not long in coming.  Bert made the mistake of shutting the throttle.  The tyre slowed, of course, but also suddenly found traction on the aging linoleum, rocketing the bike forward on an arced course around Bert, who somehow kept a grip but was eventually dragged under the cluttered, all-purpose table.  There was a tremendous crash and suddenly pots and pans were showering down while the engine kept booming away and the back wheel kept spinning, still gripping occasionally and throwing everything back in the air.  Finally, Duncan managed to reach in and switch off the bike.  He and Ashley dragged it from the wreckage to free Bert, who was unhurt.  The bike too had sustained little damage.  The three men looked at each other blankly for a few seconds and then laughed.  Bert recovered his breath enough to ask Duncan if the wheel was in fact buckled. 
Duncan shrugged.  'Hell man, d'ya seriously expect me to notice with all that going on?'
Bert snorted.  Well of course I do.  You could see I was busy!'
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 179-80
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 01, 2013, 10:30:05 AM
The road racing tyres Bert switched to were still far from ideal for the speeds he was now achieving, speeds that demanded proper, high-speed race tyres.  But these were beyond his budget.  He could use old road racing tyres because, of course, the first thing he did was remove the tread and smooth them off.  Sometimes he went a little far, which was easy to do, and exposed the canvas.  The scrutineer pointed at just such a patch and told Bert he could not run.  Bert was quick to respond.  He fixed the scrutineer with a look of cold determination.
‘If I’m game to run on them, what's your damn problem?' 
The hapless official looked at the patch of canvas and then back at Bert.  He was clearly conflicted but in the end he relented.  As he said later to a fellow scrutineer, ‘The old bugger's been riding on tyres like that for years.  Who was I to tell him he had to change his ways?'
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 183
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 02, 2013, 12:12:22 PM
Ashley sometimes tested their bikes and on one occasion took Bert's for a blast up the beach after the engine had been carefully balanced in accordance with several pages of calculations Duncan had made.  Once under way Ashley found the vibration disturbingly odd.  It was not exactly unpleasant but it made the handlebar grips feel as if they were growing thicker and his vision began to blur.  He returned to the two men waiting on the beach and switched off.
‘How was it?' asked Duncan.  'Good?'
'Not bad so far as the overall smoothness went, I suppose.  There's just one problem.  I seem to be going blind. Everything is going white.  Bloody hell! Now I can't see a damn thing!'
'Bugger!' exclaimed Duncan.  I’ll have to start again.'
‘What about my eyes?’ asked Ashley.  ‘I’m completely blind.’
Bert's voice boomed out of the white mist.  'Hold your horses Ashley. Can't you see Duncan is thinking?'
It was only a temporary condition, and not all of Ashley's test runs ended so strangely.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 184
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 03, 2013, 12:56:05 PM
By the time the New Zealand Grand Prix rolled around again the Velocette was going very well indeed.  Burt and Duncan decided to make an all out assault on the Rangiora Handicap.  Duncan insisted Burt buy a new race spark plug for the occasion and although Burt grumbled he finally gave way and did so.  The race started splendidly with Burt well to the fore and he was able to run in the top three or four places, lap after lap.  As the end of the race approached it looked like Burt would manage a podium finish at the very least.  But all such hopes were dashed when the Velocette suddenly gave up and coasted to a halt.
Once the dead bike had been retrieved Duncan set about performing his usual post mortem back at the pits.  The first thing he found was that an old spark plug had been fitted.  Seething with silent rage he replaced it with the new one and the bike ran faultlessly.  He switched the machine off and turned to Burt, who suddenly remembered he had urgent business elsewhere.  He had not gone five paces before he found Duncan barring the way, eyes flashing with genuine anger.
All over the pits, riders, mechanics, wives, girlfriends and assorted rubberneckers stopped to hear Duncan Meikle tell Burt Munro exactly what he thought of his stupid, idiotic, thick-headed, time- wasting, plain bloody perverse, mean as sin attitude, and to learn just what Burt Munro could, in Duncan's opinion, do with it.  This seemed to involve inserting a motorcycle inside himself, after first wrapping it in barbed wire and dunking it in battery acid.
Having made his point Duncan stormed off, leaving Burt to find his own way home.  His old friend had once again stopped playing speaks.  This went on for some months, by which time Burt was ready to catch a ship back to America.  The day before he was due to leave, Duncan turned up and had a cup of tea and a gingernut as if nothing had happened.  He wished Burt a good trip and quietly left.  Burt was much relieved.  It was bad enough when Duncan went off his head, but it was worse when he just went off.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 198-9
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 04, 2013, 01:46:47 PM
The start-finish line consisted of a narrow strip of concrete running across the track.  Over the years it had become slightly proud of the asphalt, which had slumped about half a centimetre on either side.  For some reason this was enough to send the Velocette into a horrendous tank-slapper from which there was no possible recovery.  With the bike bucking and kicking toward the infield like a bronco with a burr under its saddle, Burt decided it was time to step off and roll into a ball.  He was wearing his usual attire: sneakers, light T-shirt, battered ex-army trousers topped off with his ancient pudding-basin helmet - hardly the best rig for the occasion.
The first impact was so terrific Burt was sure it had killed him.   He felt he was hanging in the air a long time before he hit the deck again with another tremendous thump, tearing more chunks of flesh off his frame.  One massive crack on the head knocked him out completely but his flailing body carried on, losing more flesh every time it ricocheted off the hard track, one impact breaking an arm, another splitting his helmet and grinding his watch face flat while his light clothing was reduced to strips of rag.  In the meantime the bike tore off into the rough ground and launched itself nine metres in the air before smashing back to earth and dismantling itself as it cartwheeled into the infield.  When finally it came to rest it had shed the back wheel and much of its body, leaving parts all along its violent course.
Burt finally flopped to a halt, covered in blood with his arm at a strange angle, lying horribly still.  Ossie and Trevor were at his side immediately, both terrified that Old Burt, as everyone called him by now, had finally cashed in his chips.  To their tremendous relief he was still breathing and soon came to.
“Beat you young buggers then,' he said as Ossie and Trevor swam into focus.  They confirmed that he had and he tried to sit up, gasping as his moved his arm.  'Gee, that hurts,' he said, before asking anxiously where his bike was. 
Ossie gave him the direct answer.  'It's scattered all over Teretonga Park, Burt.'
Burt rested for a moment as he considered the situation. 'Right.  You two can pick up all the bits and put them on your truck and I'll get them back when I can.'  His eyes flicked to Duncan who was now kneeling at his side. 'And you can take me to the bloody hospital.'
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 207-8
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 05, 2013, 08:29:59 AM
There was time for a final run out at Ryal Bush Road.  Burt towed his long red fish there on its new trailer behind the Vauxhall with Ashley and Duncan on board.  With Burt ensconced in the cockpit, which was snug but not too tight, Duncan and Ashley began to push.  The streamliner was naturally geared for a theoretical top speed in excess of two hundred miles an hour, a figure Burt increasingly attracted to, and the two pushers had to run at a flat-out sprint before Burt judged the engine would turn over fast enough to fire when he would drop the decompression lever.
With Burt's encouraging shouts of 'Faster, faster', they were soon up to speed, hands stretched out on the machine's low rump.  Burt dropped the lever, accelerating away as soon as the engine caught Of course, Duncan and Ashley found themselves at a full sprint, bent forward with nothing to lean on.  As they picked themselves off the road Duncan waved his fist at the rapidly diminishing red dot.  'You bloody old bastard.  You gave your word you would never do that again!'
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 216
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 06, 2013, 11:35:21 AM
Burt's idea of appropriate gear for speed record attempts was clearly very different to the inspectors', although he at least had a decent crash helmet.  His old suit pants, check shirt, worn-out sandshoes and battered leather jacket were the subject of a heated exchange, with Burt insisting that he wore the gear because it was comfortable and therefore safer.  The argument went back and forth until the senior inspector finally said exasperatedly, 'Look Mr Munro, none of this stuff has a fire rating or offers any real protection if you crash.  We just can't let you run like this.'
Burt fixed the man with a hard stare.  'I got married in these pants and they are high quality, pure wool.  Everybody knows wool is great for resisting flame.  And I wear the sandshoes because otherwise I can't fit in.  Besides, it's my flaming skin and bones, so what's your bloody problem?'
By now many of the friends Burt had made over the years of attending Speed Week had gathered around and there were murmurs of support for Burt's stand.  He pressed home his advantage.
'Show me the rule that says I can't wear what I like!' The inspector glared back.
'All right, you do what you want.  But don't blame me when they take you away in a box!'
Burt grinned.  If that happens I'll put in a word of recommendation for you with the old fellow down below!  I'll tell him you're just the sort of bloke he's looking for.'
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 237
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Gavo on March 06, 2013, 01:58:19 PM
My Quote of the day  :thumb

([url]http://i1222.photobucket.com/albums/dd499/ozstoc/11116_500267733352716_1995371867_n_zps71249e3e.jpg[/url])



 :clap Dats a good one dont have to read to long  :thumb
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 07, 2013, 09:06:56 AM
Burt slipped the clutch until the bike was doing about fifty miles an hour, then he let it out and gave the bike its head.  At ninety miles an hour he reached down and slipped the gear lever into second, winding the power back on and rejoicing as the speed built up.  At about 100 miles an hour the weaving began again.  As the bike accelerated up to about 140 he began to wonder if he might have to button off and abort the mission.  At 145 miles an hour he slipped the gear lever into top.  The bike was seriously unbalanced now and it took every bit of skill Burt had, from nearly a century of riding flat out, to keep it from swinging sideways and flipping down the salt.  He kept the throttle wide open, desperately hoping the weave might go away at higher speed.  It did not, he continued to accelerate.  It no longer seemed to be getting worse. Bugger it, he thought. It's all or nothing.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 241
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 08, 2013, 07:05:01 AM
Inside the machine Burt Munro was fighting for his life, but he did it with the throttle jammed against the stop.  He no longer had any idea where he was.  He was simply determined to run until the bike broke or crashed.  After what felt like many miles the engine faltered and dropped on to one cylinder, but still he kept going, not knowing if he was heading into the vast emptiness of the salt flats or aiming straight at a trailer home.  When the bike finally ran out of fuel Burt somehow remembered to deploy his landing gear and the bike slowly coasted to a halt, the diminishing sound of salt crunching under the tyres the only noise to break the perfect silence.  Utterly exhausted he pushed his goggles up and once more looked about at a glaring, empty landscape. 'Jesus,' he croaked.  'Don't tell me I'm lost again.'
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 244
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on March 08, 2013, 06:05:29 PM
(https://farm5.staticflickr.com/4489/37311968890_080b12708e_z.jpg) (https://flic.kr/p/YR8Aqs)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: SToz on March 09, 2013, 07:18:28 AM
(http://i400.photobucket.com/albums/pp90/ST1300_photos/st1300pnw.jpg)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Gavo on March 09, 2013, 02:02:17 PM
([url]http://i400.photobucket.com/albums/pp90/ST1300_photos/st1300pnw.jpg[/url])



Aint that just grand  :thumbs  :clap


Looks alot like Pearl Corrinado  :grin
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 09, 2013, 09:24:19 PM
They loaded the bike onto the trailer and headed back to the start-finish line where the Indian had to be available to ensure it met the capacity requirements for its class, should it have broken a record.  Burt revealed that he had been blinded on the first run by fried rubber coming off the front tyre, which had grown with the centrifugal force caused by running at three times the speed it was designed for, rubbing on the leaf spring suspension.  He had decided to make the return run on the basis that the small amount of rubber in contact with the suspension had probably burned off on the first run.  He had been wrong, and his second blind charge into the desert had been the result. 
Back at the start area a beaming Earl Flanders told Burt that his bike would have to be measured because his average over two matching miles had been 178.971, a new national speed record.  Burt slumped back against the Nash and let the news sink in.  He was a champion; he'd set a record and it was bloody fast by anyone's standards, let alone a geriatric on a middle-aged motorcycle.
‘If that's the case,' he said, wincing at the pain in his leg, 'I'm never coming back here again.'
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 245-6
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 10, 2013, 10:53:17 AM
He ground off the single wide cam from the cam drive shaft and made two very narrow cams, one for the inlet valves and one the exhaust valves. To make the cams he first created a cam grinder, using an old washing machine motor.  Prior to this Burt had always shaped his cams by hand with hacksaws and files, demonstrating a remarkable facility with the simplest tools.  His new machine worked well and saved a lot of time and effort, even though most who saw it were hard pressed to decipher how exactly the thing worked.  The two new narrow cams ran side by side on the cam drive shaft and activated appropriately narrow cam followers.
He carved the four L-shaped cam followers from high-tensile steel, each forked at the cam end to take a twenty-millimetre needle bearing roller, just six millimetres wide.  When the cams were finished he drilled a hole through them so they slipped over the cam drive shaft.  Once he had the timing right a high tensile bolt was screwed through the cam wheel via a six millimetre threaded hole, locking the cam on the shaft.  He organised a healthy supply of oil to keep the cams and followers well lubricated by mounting an oil pump from a 1933 Indian, which also supplied the big ends and main bearings. The work took approximately 800 hours of 16-hour days and when it was done the valve set up was capable of sustaining high revs without any real problems.  Burt had created another unique engineering solution to a complicated problem without drawing a line on a piece of paper.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 265-6
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 11, 2013, 08:43:36 AM
Back in Wendover Burt was full of confidence that he could not only set the record he wanted, but also shatter the 200 mile an hour barrier.  But the God of Speed is a capricious fellow.  During his qualifying run Burt was horrified to discover the streamliner was again shaking and weaving, even at his comparatively modest qualifying speed of 172 miles an hour.  The next day he lined up to take his first serious run with frayed nerves and a sense of dread.  Neither Marty nor Rollie had made it to Speed Week that year and Burt missed them both.  He still had the small but dedicated band of helpers that had formed over the years, always designating whatever car Burt was driving as Team Indian HQ.  They even had Team Indian T-shirts printed.  They treated Burt like a guru and could not do enough for him.  Like Rollie, they were convinced he was from another planet where the normal rules of ageing did not hold.  Even so, as they pushed him off, Burt could not shake his anxiety.  But Burt always found confidence once he was under way.  He took the bike up to about 180 miles an hour in spite of the snaking and weaving.  It was an heroic effort, and far more than most mortals would have attempted.  Still the God of Speed wanted more.  As he approached the timed sections Burt had a split second to make his choice.  Did he back off and hope he could slow the bike down without crashing, or did he go for it and hope it became more stable in the mysterious world that waited behind the door?
It was never really an issue.  He kept the throttle wound hard against the stop.  As he hit the timed miles the bike was going faster than it ever had before.  At over 200 miles an hour, the first quarter mile - clearly marked because it was used in setting qualifying times - went past in just four seconds.
But the bike was not becoming more stable.  Far from it.  Burt knew he was rapidly losing control and a fatal crash was just seconds away.  He had used every bit of his skill to keep it on track but the vibrations were now so bad he was beginning to grey out.  In desperation he did the only thing he could do - he sat up.  The terrific slipstream immediately tore his goggles off and tried to rip the helmet off his head, strangling him with the chinstrap.  Blinded by the 200 mile an hour blast and by stinging salt flying off the front wheel, Burt lost track and the streamliner veered off into the salt flats, heading like a guided missile for a steel pylon standing all by itself in the distance.
The bike missed it - and certain destruction - by just twenty centimetres, streaking into the distance with Burt riding completely blind.  It seemed to take forever to slow but he finally a speed where he could put the landing gear down.  Burt was so dazed by this stage, however, that he could not locate the handle to drop the little wheels.  When the bike stopped it just flopped on its side, badly tearing his shoulder muscles.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 276-7
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 12, 2013, 08:30:30 AM
It was now clear that he could not really develop his engines further without a dynamometer, which would allow him to methodically test his improvements to the bikes without the complicating variables that racing introduced. 
He had talked with a number of people over the years about building such a machine, and he now set out to do it.  It was a fearsome looking device when finished, with two flat thirty-five by twenty-centimetre plywood paddles, driven by a long chain from the engine running though exhaust pipe to stop it flying off the sprockets at either end.  When the dynamometer was in use both the bike, with its rear wheel removed, and the paddles were mounted securely to a heavy steel frame.
Burt had also made an electric starter (using an old Ford starter motor) with handles on either side that fitted over the drive side mainshaft nut on both the Indian and the Velocette.  He had first seen such a thing when a local grass track hotshot named Earl Bryan built one.  Earl was asthmatic and had trouble push-starting his speedway JAP.  There were a number of copies about that Burt would borrow, until their various owners decided he could build his own, which he finally did.  He could now start the bike while it was hooked up to the dynamometer and run his tests.
Burt persuaded Norman Hayes to help with the first trial something Norman, who had followed the construction of the machine, was reluctant to do.  Burt kept at him until he relented and Burt soon had the paddles whizzing around creating what to Norman felt like a hurricane in the confines of Burt's little shed.  He was relieves when the engine refused to run properly and the trial was aborted.
The bike might not have performed but Burt was happy with his dynamometer.  The only further equipment he needed was a hand-held rev counter to ensure the one on the bike was accurate, and without which he could not accurately calculate the horsepower the engine was developing.  Luckily a friend named Vern Russell had just such a thing, which worked by holding it over the end of the crankshaft, and he agreed to help Burt. He soon regretted it.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 291
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 13, 2013, 08:28:50 AM
Having operated the starter motor to get the engine running, Vern held the rev counter over the end of the crankshaft and Burt slipped the bike into second gear.  As he let the clutch out, the unshielded paddles began to revolve, horribly close to where Vern was crouched beside the bike.  Burt opened the throttle until the paddles were spinning at about 2000 revs, at which point the din from the open megaphones on the bike combined with the clatter of the chain in the pipes and the roar of the wind generated by the paddles was enough to daunt the stoutest heart.  Papers and dust were flying around the workshop and just as Vern thought matter could not possibly become any more unpleasant, the bike slipped out of gear, the revs went through the roof, and motorcycle engine blew up.  Vern was shaking violently as Burt calmly leaned over to have a look at the damage and announced, ‘That's the first time that has happened in the history of this church!'
Although he would thereafter allow Burt to borrow the rev counter whenever he asked for it, Vern was always too busy to help out in person.  Duncan and Ashley had also heard enough to avoid being roped into a session, and Burt was forced to recruit others.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 292
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 14, 2013, 08:12:22 AM
He was forced to admit that those who had told him the magneto was faulty were probably right.  Arriving back at Bainfield Road a month later he immediately began to work to replace the magneto. Years before, Joe Hunt, American specialist, had given him a Bosch magneto.  The item was probably from a BMW and Burt had been dissuaded from fitting it because it ran the wrong way. Once he'd decided to use it, however, he quickly solved the problem by dispensing with the two idler pinions in the gear train driving the magneto.  He replaced these with a single large cam gear mounted on an eccentric shaft, to allow an accurate meshing of the gears. He had to move the magneto closer to the gear and to do this he cut about four millimetres off the base of the magneto and about the same amount off the crankcase mounting.  He drilled and tapped new holes to mount the magneto.  Because it was designed to fire a flat four-cylinder engine, rather than a forty-two V-twin, he next made a new brass cam ring and a set of cams to work the points.  The latter he created from old ball race that he annealed before filing it to the correct shape to achieve the timing he needed.  Once he'd annealed it again it was ready.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 299- 300
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 16, 2013, 04:44:31 PM
Burt's tenth and final visit to Bonneville was in July 1971.  He was disgusted to learn that the rules had been changed and that all streamliners now had to have separate engine compartments.  The year before had seen a flurry of activity as three contenders chased the all out motorcycle land speed record.  Don Vesco had fired his twin engined 700cc, two-stroke Yamaha, feet-forward streamliner across the salt to take the record with an average of 251.6 miles an hour.  A month later his good friend Cal Rayborn broke it again with a speed of 265.5.  Rayborn's head-first streamliner, powered by a 1480cc Harley Davidson twin, had been a handful to drive and he had a few high-speed slides before he got the hang of it.
Less fortunate had been the third contender Robert Leppan, who had set a time one-way of 266 miles an hour in his twin Triumph 650cc powered streamliner Gyronaut X-l.  On his return run the streamliner had become airborne at about 280 miles an hour, finally sliding for about 2.5 kilometres with a badly injured Leppan in the cockpit.  The high speeds had prompted the new safety rules, but they effectively ended any participation by streamlined machines that were conventionally ridden. Burt was allowed to make a few half-hearted passes in the streamliner for the Aardvark cameraman, probably the most frustrating thing he had ever done in his life.  He was also allowed to run his bike without the shell, but the gearing was far too high for him to do well.
On the way back to Los Angeles, alone once again, an axle broke on his old trailer which then collapsed.  He had to lash a tree branch underneath it, dragging it for miles until he found a truck stop and some assistance to slide the streamliner into the back of the $90 Pontiac station-wagon he had bought for the trip.  Once back in Los Angeles he spent time with Marty and Jackie at their home in Thousand Oaks.  Rollie came over and they talked about old times, each of them facing the reality that Burt's record-chasing days really were over.  It was a sad farewell. 
Back home Burt was soon in the thick or it again.  He and Duncan still thought nothing of driving 600 kilometres to compete in a speed trial near Christchurch, then home again for a trial the next day.  At a quarter-mile sprint along School Road in Invercargill, he kept the power on too long for his feeble brakes to pull him up, yelling as he careered down the road for someone to pull the traffic barrier out of the way.  Just in time it was whisked away, and Burt hurtled past.  Then he turned right around and lined up for another run.  He was seventy-three years old.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 302-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 17, 2013, 08:19:10 PM
He suffered a heart attack but made a good recovery, teasing the nurses with all his youthful enthusiasm, and returned to his little house where he spent his days in a comfortable chair with a two-bar electric heater always going.  He had rigged up a special wire holder on the heater for his teapot, and the many visitors were always offered a cup. His tea no longer tasted metallic.
With the sun streaming into his cosy little house, he would sit in his old armchair, close his eyes and find himself back on the salt.  The Indian would be humming along, everything operating in perfect harmony.  The black line would be flickering under the bike as it hurtled along, rock steady at maximum revs in top, doing well over 200 miles an hour.  He would raise his head just a bit against the pressure of the slipstream and lift his eyes to take in the cobalt sky.  As he drifted into sleep his perfect run would slowly fade, until there was nothing but the glittering white plain and the distant purple hills and perfect, eternal silence.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 305-6
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 18, 2013, 09:38:55 PM
Three days after the funeral, Margaret was cleaning out her father's house when she came across an address book.  She flicked through it and stopped at the letter I, which contained a single word, 'Indian', and an American phone number.  On a whim she called it.  A man answered, his voice reverberating slightly. 'Indian Motorcycles.  Can I help you?'
For a moment Margaret was silent, then remembered the purpose of her call.  'Hello, my name is Margaret.  I'm Burt Munro's daughter and I am calling to tell you that he has died peacefully at home.'
'I'm really pleased to hear that, Margaret.' The unexpected sentiment hung in the air for a moment, somewhere near the middle o the Pacific Ocean.
'I'm sorry, ma'am, that came out wrong. I'm real sad to hear Burt's gone and everybody else round here will be too when I tell them.  We already miss him.  It's just that we figured he would be awfully lucky to go peacefully.  I’m so glad he did.’  There was another pause.  'I would like you to know that he made all of here at Indian Motorcycles proud.  Real proud.'
As Margaret hung up, her eyes were drawn to the glittering trophies, waiting to be packed in boxes. She was struck by how much more there had been to the life they represented.  Her father, she thought, had always been a true individual and, like all true individuals, he had always been himself.
It was enough, she thought, more than enough.
One Good Run  Tim Hanna p 306-7
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 19, 2013, 01:11:34 PM
A long-distance motorcycle rally requires the same time-management skills as a SaddleSore, along with a few more.  It's essentially a scavenger hunt, with bonuses worth different point values depending on the degree of difficulty to get to the location either in terms of distance or road quality.  Each rally is run Rally Master who plans, advertises, and oversees the entire event.  They take great pride in creating interesting routes, along twisty mountain roads filled with animals at night, blistering deserts in the heat of the day, busy cities at rush hour, or small towns with excruciatingly slow speed limits- anything to make the ride challenging.  The goal of a rally is to figure out the best way to get the most points while also, at least in the Utah 1088, riding the minimum number of miles to be classified as a finisher.
Two-Up  Lynda Lahman p 32
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 21, 2013, 10:02:12 AM
The final few miles!  Turning west on I-80 towards the hotel, Terry said that because we had deviated from the main route, we might not have covered enough miles to be considered finishers.  The possibility that we might be short on miles had never come up.  We were well over what I thought was required, and I couldn't make any sense of his words.  All I heard was, "We need to ride a billion miles past our exit, blah blah blah, then turn around and come on back".  If I'd had the strength to strangle him, I would have. He later told me he could feel ice forming on the intercom wires from the sudden chill in my mood.  I was in a state of utter disbelief, but Terry was insistent. I reluctantly agreed to go another twenty miles farther before turning around.  I was not a happy camper when we passed by our exit and I could see the hotel from the interstate.
Two-Up  Lynda Lahman p 39
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 22, 2013, 08:52:38 AM
Then another rider, Greg Marbach, appeared, jumped off his bike, took the required photo, and engaged us in a brief conversation.  He hopped back on his bike and headed east down the mountain pass to the valley below.  I turned to Terry and asked him if he thought Greg was doing OK, if he seemed tired, and if we should we have said or done something.
Not knowing Greg well, we weren't sure if he would successfully monitor himself.  Feeling slightly uncomfortable, but also freezing cold and wanting to re-hook up our electrics, we got back on the bike and took off in the same easterly direction.  Barely half a mile later we saw a bike on the side of the road and my heart skipped a beat.  I quickly realized the bike was on its side stand, and Greg was sleeping next to it on the hillside.  Later he told us cars kept stopping to see if he was OK, and he finally had to continue further down the road to find a better place to nap where he wouldn't be constantly awakened by well-meaning drivers.
Two-Up  Lynda Lahman p 87
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 23, 2013, 06:24:34 PM
An elderly man wandered over to chat while Terry moved the equipment to different locations on the bike.  The man asked about the bike and where we were from.  I don't think I've ever spoken with anyone who talked as slowly, pausing in-between every word for what seemed like minutes.  I could tell Terry wanted to focus on fixing the bike, so I kept answering the man's questions, diverting his attention, trying to be friendly and engaging.
He had never been more than a few miles from his home in his entire life, and was struggling to believe that we could have come over 3000 miles in only three days.  He drew the words out, over and over, "Three thousand miles in three days!" as if the constant repetition would suddenly make it more comprehensible.  It was the kind of moment, unplanned and memorable, that happened often when we were on the bike.  Somehow, people were more willing to approach us, a couple sharing a single motorcycle, and pepper us with questions that they might never ask if we were in a car.
Two-Up  Lynda Lahman p 113-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 24, 2013, 12:32:29 PM
But now we were far ahead of schedule.  It was only 10 a.m. and Livermore was a short 150 miles away.  We took off down the mountain with fingers crossed that we'd find an open fire station. The instructions for the fire station were as follows: "Take a picture of the Centennial Light, the oldest continually burning bulb in the world, on since 1901. You will need to go into the Fire Station and ask to see the light.  Go to the door and ring the bell.  You MUST also sign the guest book as we will be monitoring it!  If the fire personnel are out on a call, you must wait for their return."
We arrived to find an empty station.  Not sure what to do or how long to wait, Terry tools a short nap. I studied our maps to see if there were other bonuses we could add if we stayed ahead of the clock.  I called Bob to chat and help keep me alert.  Thirty minutes passed.  I was pacing the parking lot, unsure what to do, when a fire truck pulled into the driveway. I shook Terry out of his slumber and ran over to the crew to say hello.
"Bet you've had quite a few people stopping by today," I said.  A firefighter looked at me oddly as he climbed down from the truck.
"Um, I'm not sure what you're talking about.  This isn't our station.  We're just here for a minute dropping off some supplies and taking off again.”
"Would it be OK if you let us in to get a picture of the light bulb?" I asked as they were unloading boxes.
"What light bulb?"  My heart stopped.  How could it be a famous landmark and a local crew not know about it?  What if they couldn't find it?  What if it required a special key?
"Oh, is this it?" he called as the bay doors opened, revealing a tiny wire attached to the ceiling with a small bulb dangling at the end.  I breathed a sigh of relief.
Had I been sleeping along with Terry the truck would have come and gone, no one the wiser.  We took our photo, with Terry lying on the floor to get me, the flag, and the light in the picture.  We signed the guest book, thanked the crew for letting us in, and waved goodbye as we rode off.
Two-Up  Lynda Lahman p 170-1
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 25, 2013, 03:31:36 PM
The fleece neck gaiter I was wearing for warmth had gotten twisted inside my jacket and was bothering me.  "Can you tuck this back in for me?" I asked Terry.  "I can't reach the back to do it myself."
"I can't," Terry said.  "My hands are dirty."  He held them out for me to see. I stared at him incredulously.
"Seriously? Do you really think I care?"  Neither of us had showered since the hotel in San Jose, three days ago.  Our stop in Fort Collins had only been for sleep, and we had spent two nights on picnic benches in our gear and our helmets.  Dirt was the least of my worries.  We laughed at the absurdity of what he had just said and what we were doing- standing at a gas pump in the middle of the night, filthy, stinky, and having the time of our lives.
Two-Up  Lynda Lahman p 196
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 26, 2013, 09:20:11 AM
One rider quoted Helen Keller's description of life as a daring adventure.  The quotation has always been a favourite of mine, and helps explain how these riders justify the risks to which they willingly expose themselves:
"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of humankind as a whole experience it.  Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run  than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or it is nothing at all."
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 46
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 27, 2013, 09:58:54 AM
Just after midnight, some 130 miles south of Salt Lake City, I became sleepy and checked into the Iron Butt Motel at Fillmore.  This time the Iron Butt Motel was the parking lot of a convenience store.  The Iron Butt Motel is the term endurance riders use for sleeping on one's motorcycle.  Some riders do it by leaning forward, using their tank bags as a pillow.  I was most comfortable leaning back. Anyone who has difficulty believing that it's possible to sleep on a motorcycle just hasn't been that tired.  The Iron Butt Motel has a lot to recommend it.  It's easy to find, the rates are great, there's always a vacancy, and there's no problem about having to park your motorcycle out of your sight while you steep.  And you don't have to awaken a clerk if you want to check in at 4:00 a.m.  There are a few disadvantages, too.  You never seem to be able to find one when it's raining, and there generally isn't a shower nearby unless it's raining.  They are some of the dirtiest places going. There's no service to speak of.  Security isn't great.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 78-9
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 28, 2013, 10:19:46 AM
Around midnight Charles was north of Los Angeles, dead tired and wanting an opportunity to stop to rest.  But his concern about being able to make it through the traffic in Los Angeles to reach San Diego on time caused him to try to get through Los Angeles before stopping.  Thinking that he had missed a turnoff to stay on 1-5, he tried to cheat the highway by crossing the white demarcation lines, hit an unknown obstacle, and went airborne.  The short flight and abrupt landing awakened him enough to realize that he was heading in the wrong direction on I-5.  When he exited the freeway to examine the damage to the motorcycle, he entered an area that he described as a "war zone," replete with refugees, burned out hulks of automobiles, and abandoned buildings.  He quickly returned to the interstate.  When he stopped at a gasoline station a little farther on, the attendant was sitting in a bulletproof cage.  As he dismounted he heard the voices of several youths running in his direction from a half a block away.  Leaving the refuelling for later, he jumped back on the motorcycle and once again returned to the interstate.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 82-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 29, 2013, 01:27:34 PM
Morris Kruemcke surprised riders when he arrived in Salt Lake City without the black "Stealth Bike" that had been such an attraction at the Iron Butt Pizza Party in Daytona, Florida the previous March.  Morris's Stealth Bike started as a wrecked Gold Wing but no longer had much in common with the production version.  The bullet-shaped vehicle, enveloped in a jet-black carbon-fibre skin, looked as if it belonged either on the salt flats of Bonneville or in a James Bond flick.  Mounted inside, the cockpit surrounded the rider and included such space-age instrumentation as a digital fuel flow readout as well as the more pedestrian tachometer and speedometer.  Some sort of backrest had been modified to support the rider's chest as he leaned forward to stay below the wind stream.  This reduced rider fatigue and increased mileage at the same time.  And yes, this bike was also equipped with the "Morris Kruemcke Pee-Tube".
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 85
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 30, 2013, 09:32:11 AM
Michael Stockton had a more pleasant experience on U.S. 49 twelve hours earlier.  He was stopped by a Mississippi State Trooper.  Usually, being stopped for speeding isn't pleasant, but when Michael handed over his driver's license, he noticed that the trooper wore a college ring from the University of Mississippi.  A good friend of Michael's, now a doctor in Oklahoma City, had attended the same university.  When Michael mentioned this, the trooper acknowledged with surprise that she and Michael's friend had been best friends in high school and college.
"Did you have a big, black Harley Dresser in the mid '80s?" she asked.
“Yes,” Michael replied.  "Well, your friend told me about you. She suggested that you and I meet some time, because I ride motorcycles too."
After talking for half an hour, Michael explained the Iron Butt.
"Well, let me help you make up some time," she suggested, "I'll escort you out of the State of Mississippi."  So Michael received a high-speed escort to the Alabama state line.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 108-9
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 31, 2013, 12:05:48 PM
Gary Eagan's experience the previous evening may have i been a unique one.  As he pulled into a gasoline station near Hoxie, Arkansas, lightning was flashing in all directions.  He was surrounded by clouds, could smell the rain in the air, and felt the wind blowing in strong, sustained gusts.  Half an hour later, trucks started blinking their lights as they went by in the opposite direction.  Gary believed the trucks were trying to warn him of a trooper, but he wasn't exceeding the speed limit at the time.
"A massive gust of wind pushed me off the road, across the shoulder, and into a field,"  Gary reported.  "I didn't know what hit me.  The field was muddy, but not yet so bad that I couldn't get back on the road.  As I looked to the northeast, I could see a small funnel cloud.  It scared the hell out of me."
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 110
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 01, 2013, 08:47:49 AM
So Martin decided to make his first visit to the Iron Butt Motel.  He pulled the motorcycle under an overpass, as far out of the way as he could manage, laid his head on the tank bag, and spread his arms across the fairing.  Despite the pounding rain-storm, he fell asleep immediately.  About three hours later, startled awake by a truck roaring past, he thought he had momentarily fallen asleep while riding and was about to smash into the concrete bridge abutment a short distance before him.  He tried to execute an emergency swerve, nearly toppling himself and the motorcycle to the pavement. "The emergency braking got my adrenaline flowing and I headed off relatively refreshed," Martin related.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 111
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 02, 2013, 10:27:57 AM
While preparing to grab a few hours of sleep, Suzy Johnson looked on as members of the Christian Motorcycle Association repaired her motorcycle.  She had encountered some rough roads in Louisiana and broken part of the exhaust system.  The Christian volunteers were on hand at the checkpoint to help with the repairs.  Suzy hadn't been in bed since Arizona and wanted to sleep, but the Christian bikers wanted to talk.  So Suzy talked until midnight, when the repairs were complete.
Then she checked into a motel and collapsed for the evening.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 117
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 03, 2013, 11:08:37 AM
I was in the middle of a giant traffic jam leading through Washington to the horizon.  I decided to do what had worked well for me in other places in the rally and began splitting lanes.  This worked for several miles until I found myself between a semi and a truck that was pulling a mobile home.  I could see the semi driver's face in his rear view mirrors, so I knew that he had seen me. 
The driver began to pull over, smashing me into the mobile home. I was attempting to maintain my speed to keep the motorcycle upright as I was being held against the side of the moving mobile home.  When the semi finally began to fall back, the lug nuts of the truck's front axle sheared the right cover off my motorcycle's engine guard.
When I managed to finally clear the semi, I jumped the motorcycle onto the sidewalk and stopped to examine the damage and to give my knees an opportunity to stop shaking. In addition to the damage caused to the motorcycle, my left leg, which had been pinned against the side of the mobile home, wracked with pain.  I decided that weeping wouldn't help anything. The semi was gone, so I continued on my way to West Virginia.  This was the last time that I practiced lane-splitting in the United States.  (report of Martin Hildebrand)
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 123
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 04, 2013, 10:56:12 AM
Finally, I spotted a fuel station from the interstate, took the exit, and turned into the parking area. I felt that I had entered some 'end of time' scenario.  The station wasn't very old, but was damaged with signs dangling and people hanging out.  All the pumps except one were occupied.   I parked at this pump and found that two of the three handles were unusable.  One had a hand-printed sign, 'out of orda,' hanging on it, and the other had been cut. Apparently, someone had tried to set it on fire.
I tried to use the remaining handle, but found that I had to enter the station to pay for the purchase before the pump would function.  On entering the station and having an opportunity to inspect my surroundings, I began to understand why prepayment was required.  The cashier was surrounded by bulletproof glass and there were several signs stating that the station would not accept bills over $20. One sign stated, 'In No Case Is There More Than $50 Cash Here.'  As I stepped from the cashier's window, I detected at least 20 pairs of eyes locked on me.  Although all pumps were occupied, I didn't see any vehicle taking fuel while I was there.  All vehicles were at least ten years old, and all had some major body damage.  After quickly taking a gallon of fuel, I departed.  I was careful to not make eye contact with anyone.  I had the impression that the small package that I saw being exchanged with the driver of one of the parked cars was not containing vitamin pills.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 124
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 06, 2013, 12:44:42 PM
A little after 11:00 p.m., I entered the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel and headed across the dark 17.6 mile expanse of water connecting the Delmarva Peninsula with the Virginia coast.  I knew about this engineering marvel, the world's largest bridge- tunnel complex, but had never had the opportunity to see it.
This structure, acclaimed as one of the "Seven Wonders of the Modern World," begins as a bridge where it leaves the mainland at Virginia Beach.  A restaurant, gift shop, and fishing pier are located on the southernmost of the four man-made islands.  Several miles from shore the highway disappears into a tunnel beneath the ocean.  After about a mile, the highway rises to the surface and continues once again as a bridge.  All I could see was water- the Chesapeake Bay to one side of the highway and the Atlantic Ocean to the other.
After another five miles the highway again descends beneath the ocean and continues through a second tunnel for another mile before rising one final time as a bridge, ending at Cape Charles, Virginia.  I enjoyed the crossing and only wished I had been able to make the trip during daylight.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 129
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 07, 2013, 12:37:54 PM
Murf could tell us all something about the crappy roads i this part of the country. As he was circling the nation's capital in the fourth lane of the five-lane beltway, a jarring encounter with a pothole caused his motorcycle to suddenly and unexpectedly stop running.  As with my flameout in Jacksonville the previous day, murf’s occurred in the middle of heavy traffic.  A trucker noticed his plight, understood what was going on, and signalled him to head for the shoulder.  The driver used his 18 wheeler to block traffic as murf made his way to the side of the road.  Murf's motorcycle has a sensor to detect if the motorcycle leans too far to the side.  The sensor, a pendulum suspended in oil, closes an electrical circuit if the pendulum touches the inner edge of a retaining ring.  Theoretically, such an occurrence means the motorcycle has fallen.  When the circuit closes, the engine stops running.  In murf's case, the shock of hitting the pothole generated enough motion in the device to trigger the shutdown.  The sensor recycles after the ignition switch is turned off and then back on.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 133
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 08, 2013, 01:00:56 PM
By this time, I realized that my previous thoughts about a for surviving a fall from the bridge were stupid.  If I was blown off, I was dead.  The impact of hitting the water after such a long fall would surely knock me out, and it was stupid to think about surviving the freezing water.  I had swum in Lake Michigan in August and knew how cold it was at this time of year.  The correct plan was not to be blown off.  As I headed for the bridge and worked my way through the gears, I felt that this was a strange bridge, different from others I had crossed.  The guard rail seemed only knee-high. An optical illusion? I remained in the center.
It was too dark to see the Great Lakes below- Lake Michigan on my left and Lake Huron on my right. Shoals, heavy fog and high seas in the highly navigated waters between the two Great Lakes contributed to the loss of many ships in the area.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 159
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 09, 2013, 10:47:37 AM
I was a few hours behind Gary Eagan, whose experience in crossing the bridge had been much different from mine.  He ascended the bridge as the sun was setting to his left, over Lake Michigan. The sky was filled with spectacular shades of red.  Half of the sun was visible as it sank slowly below the horizon.  And at that instant, a full moon, appearing half the size of the sun, was rising to his right, shining brightly above Lake Huron.  After the rally, Gary documented his experience while crossing the bridge:
"It was like the sun and moon were perfectly balanced on a teeter-totter.  It was surreal- so incredibly beautiful that I wanted to stop the bike and just watch it.  But not on that bridge.
"I guess that event probably happens one or two times a year there, when the sun is far enough north and the moon is full. It's impossible to describe how wonderful that was.  I yelled and shouted halfway to Manistique on Highway 2.  It was just what I needed to rejuvenate me and ease the disappointment of the problems I believed had cost me a shot at winning the Iron Butt.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 160
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 11, 2013, 09:11:32 AM
It’s amazing  that riders will continue to ride for hours in great discomfort to avoid stopping.  They'll tolerate an enlarged bladder to minimize nature breaks, put up with a growling stomach or parched throat to postpone a food stop, ride in wet clothing to avoid the interruption of donning a rainsuit, or permit a headache to develop as a result of incessant wind noise rather than stop to insert earplugs. At one time or another I’ve been guilty of all of these quirks.
Mike included advice in his long-distance riding tips about "stopping to go farther".  His advice was offered because the phenomenon described above is so prevalent, even among riders who should know better.  Stopping at appropriate intervals for meal breaks and rest doesn't cost the endurance rider time.  It  actually makes it possible to spend more time in the saddle.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 161
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 12, 2013, 09:04:06 AM
I fought the "nods" more than at any time since the rally began.  I tried every trick I knew.  I opened the face shield to my helmet and stood upright on the pegs to let fresh air blast directly into my face, unobstructed by the motorcycle's windshield.  I unzipped the front of the Aerostich to let air blow into the suit.  I performed deep knee-bends while standing on the pegs, hoping that increasing my circulation would help me remain alert.  I sat back down and shook my head vigorously from side to side. I changed my position on the motorcycle dramatically, trying to make myself as uncomfortable as possible.  I ate a Snickers and drank a Mountain Dew.  I sat on the passenger seat with my feet on the passenger pegs, my back pressed the duffel bags, and my arms stretched forward on the controls.  I sang, cursed, and shouted commands to myself to stay awake.
"Stay awake until sunrise, damn it! You can last until rise!  Don't surrender now!  Don't be such a damn wimp!  After sunrise, things will be OK!"  I believed things would be OK if I could last until daylight.  No matter how tired I get, I always become re-energized when see sunshine.  When I start a ride before daylight, I'm usually sluggish and drowsy, even after a good night's sleep.  When the sun comes up, things improve.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 168-9
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 13, 2013, 09:11:58 AM
Chuck walked to me.  Neither of us spoke a word as we embraced and exchanged hugs that were more than only sincere.  We felt the same honest happiness that two brothers feel after a separation of 20 years.  Bystanders appeared puzzled.  I'm 6'-2" and Chuck is as large. We both had full and filthy beards and were in dirty and stinking motorcycle clothes.
Neither of us was bothered by that. In one sense, I and this man didn't know much about each other. I've never seen his home and he hasn't seen mine.  We hadn't spoken more than a few dozen words to each other before we left Salt Lake City.  But now, 11 days later, we know that we share an experience that can't be bought at any shop.  We've seen the same ghosts in the same nights.  We both fought them and beat them.  This isn't something many people can tell about each other.
This poignant scene captures the feeling that many riders were experiencing during the final days of the rally.
Against The Wind  Ron Ayers p 176-7
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 14, 2013, 03:09:22 PM
Mike and Jo Hannan live on the Gold Coast of Queensland

I'm not sure about this, but I do know that there are those who get bikes and those who don't. Those who don't are usually the folk who ask, what's it worth?'.  When you tell them the retail price, they respond, “You could buy a good car for that,” as though a motorbike could only be a cheap alternative to a car.  Those who get bikes love the way they work and the relationship between the bike and the rider.  They love the way bikes make you feel; the sheer exhilaration of it.  Besides, as we were about to find out, riding a bike can teach you some useful lessons about life, if you care to learn them.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p17
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 15, 2013, 01:10:37 PM
This became' the first test for our rig at high speed and we had some misgivings about its stability. The manufacturer recommended a top speed of 140km/h with the full luggage-fit and since the freeway speed was 130, we thought this would be fine.  And it would have been, except that no one drove at the speed limit.  We joined the flow and I gradually increased our speed as confidence in the stability of the rig grew.  Soon enough we were belting along with the crowd in the not-so-fast-lane while the fast cars and Honda STl300s blasted past us in the proper fast lane.  We were still making very good time.  It was 250 kilometres to the overnight stop in Brive.  250 divided by 140 equals... a quick trip to town!
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 37
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 16, 2013, 11:18:31 AM
Needing to make about even- time (averaging 100 km/h) for the trip, we paid our money on the motorway and opened up the throttle.  It wasn't long before Jo was explaining exponential equations as we watched the fuel gauge expire before our eyes.  15 percent more speed was costing us a 40 percent penalty in fuel.  At 140 km/h you could almost see the fuel gauge move as you glanced at it.  Clearly we had the aerodynamics of a barn door.  At home, a day of mixed riding would get an easy 500 kilometres from the 30 litre tank.  With this load on board we got about 400 to a tank on the motorway if we kept the cruise at 120.  Over 140, the little 'feed me now' light came on at about 280 kilometres.  The problem with this was that 95-octane petrol cost about US$2.50 per litre, or better than US$50 every time we filled the tank!  The only saving grace was that at high speed you would run out of country after a couple of days.  We had a tight budget for this trip, however, and we didn't want to miss out on a decent bistro meal for the sake of a quicker trip up the motorway.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 45
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: alans1100 on April 16, 2013, 12:49:07 PM
(https://farm5.staticflickr.com/4509/37740229462_41bd0e3f21_z.jpg) (https://flic.kr/p/ZuYxnq)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 17, 2013, 09:12:42 AM
Interestingly, we didn't see many fast sports bikes motorways but there were a few big, fast super-tourers.  The Honda ST1300s, BMW GTs and Yamaha XJR 1300s generally had a couple on board in matching leathers and helmets with full and very neat luggage fit.  They slid by at about 150 tucked in behind the big fairings.  We watched them go with a wave and told ourselves that the decision to bring the BMW GSA would pay off later when the roads got bad and the distances got longer.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 46
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 18, 2013, 07:45:22 PM
We were not entirely new to the way things are done in this part of the world so, as soon as the ferry docked, we hustled the Elephant into the melee around the Border Police post.  We paid a generous 'tip' to get to the front of the queue and have the paperwork tor the bike sorted, and rolled out onto the streets of Tangier in about 15 minutes.  A quick stop to get fuel and change some money took only a few minutes more, then we were off up the hill and into the thick of the Tangier traffic.  Just like in other parts of North Africa and the Middle East where we have travelled, it is chaos in slow motion: folks wander across the road without any regulation, cars and trucks drift across “lanes” and no-one ever looks at their rear view mirrors. The unwritten rule is always “if I am in front, I have right of way”.   The bikes here are mostly tiny mopeds and the cars are small and low-powered so it all has a surreal feel for us.  There is nothing of the lethal intensity of our own traffic with many more vehicles and ballistic speeds.  Best of all, it happens with good humour and the traffic manages to flow despite the best efforts of everyone.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 90
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 19, 2013, 11:08:12 AM
It was during our stay in Agadir that the registration of the Elephant expired.  Our solution to this was to pay the renewal over the net and have the label recovered from our redirected mail by Jo’s sister Pauline.  The replacement label was then scanned and mailed through to us along with the registration paper itself.  At a photographic shop I had the scan printed to scale on photographic paper, trimmed the image and had it laminated.  The completed facsimile was then fitted to the label holder and was so good I left it there until renewal time.  We had found a good hotel at a reasonable price with secure parking for the Elephant so we stayed on in Agadir until Jo’s back was in fair shape for travel. 
Each day we walked a little further to give her some exercise.  A few days we overdid it and had a set back, but her improvement was steady.  Once she was walking three or four kilometres we knew our medical crisis had been averted and it was time to go.  We finished our stay at Agadir with a New Year's Eve dinner and a bottle of Moroccan wine followed by a walk along the crowded waterfront for an ice cream.  It was 34 years since the New Year’s Eve we had met in Sydney and I had given Jo her first pillion ride on a bike.  A lot had changed in the intervening years, but not so much as you might think.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 105
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 20, 2013, 10:49:50 AM
Although the road surface was often treacherous, with gravel on almost every corner, the riding was a pleasure.  There were stunning sights at every turn that kept us interested and kept drawing my eyes away from the challenge of the road.  As we climbed higher through the valleys we found many kasbahs.  Some were ancient and crumbling back to the earth.  Others were still in use.  All were spectacularly sited in commanding hilltop positions.  On days like this we felt the freedom of the road as a real and powerful force in our lives.  The idea of being out on the road, free to go in any direction, with no deadline or agenda, had always been a romantic notion and a little adolescent and silly.  A day of riding in the Moroccan mountains, even on a cold day, was enough to make us feel like we were teenagers again, off on a road trip when everything was new and exciting.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 108
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 21, 2013, 12:57:59 PM
The wind that had brought rain and snow to the mountains blew itself out across the desert creating a sand storm that limited visibility to less than 100 metres.  We had never been in a sand storm on a bike before and life became difficult in new and interesting ways.  We kept our helmet visors down to keep out as much dust as possible but they became coated with dust inside and out.  To get them clean and return some visibility, we were forced to stop and wipe down the inside of the visors every twenty minutes or so.  The fine dust got in everywhere and we kept all of the vents on our suits closed up to keep it out.  Unfortunately this also kept out the cooling air with obvious consequences.  By the time we got to The Palmeraie Hotel at Zagora we were keen to get out of the sand-blast and get ourselves and the bike indoors.  Like many older hotels, The Palmeraie was happy for me to park the Elephant in its foyer.  The Palmeraie was also like other old hotels in other ways.  The windows didn't seal and our room was covered with a film of gritty dust.  When the gusts of wind hit our second storey room, the windows shook and banged as though they were about to be blown in and the dust was so thick in the air in the poorly-lit hallways that it hampered visibility. Not that any of this was too much of a problem for us.  We had Elephant secured and an acceptably comfortable room, and we managed to find a cold beer and some very tasty food.  In our simple world view, things were just fine.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 111-112
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 22, 2013, 08:37:40 AM
In El-Kelaa M'Gouna, we shared our overnight stop with a group of about 16 bike riders from the UK who were spending a week riding dirt bikes in Morocco and following the Paris- Dakar Rally which was scheduled to pass through Morocco not far to the east.  They had only been in the country for one day and one rider already had an arm in a sling with little likelihood that he would remount his bike.  They were all heartily disillusioned because they had just heard the announcement that the rally had been cancelled for 2007 after three French tourists were shot by terrorists in Senegal.
The Elephant wasn't interested in their skinny-bummed KTMs, so in the morning we left them to it and continued to the east and into the mountain gorges.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 116
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 23, 2013, 08:29:57 AM
The proprietor of the Oasis Hotel had kindly let us park Elephant in the storeroom and had come around to open the door when we returned from exploring the mountains.  With our limited French and his limited English we struck up a conversation.
“Why are you in Morocco?” he asked.
“Oh, we're just looking around,” came the reply.
“Oui, touristic.”
“Oui touristic.”
“So, where have you been?”  We opened our maps and pointed to the pink highlighted line and date annotations that showed our travels.  He studied it closely and asked questions about places and towns.
“Amazing,” he said. “You have seen more of Maroc than me!  Where will you go next?” We looked at each other, realising we had not yet discussed our next destination.
“Perhaps we will go to the south.  Another rider we met in Agadir is down there and he says it is very cheap and there are no tourists,” I said, and looked back over at Jo, who shrugged. “Or,” I continued, we might go north to the Riff and look at the Atlantic Coast” He considered this lack of certainty for a few moments then gave a broad smile.
“I think I understand,” he said.  “You are not tourists, you are voyageursl”  His words hit us like a bolt of lightning and made us grin from ear to ear.
“Yes!” we blurted out in unison.  “We are voyageurs!”
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 117
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 24, 2013, 09:32:07 AM
While we ate we chatted to Daniele and heard about his adventure over many of the roads we had ridden ourselves.  As was often the case when we met fellow adventure riders, a bond formed quickly.  In some ways these conversations were very soothing for us.  Riders never ask each other the standard round of questions that non-riders need to give them a context for the relationship.  Much of the experience is already understood and the motivation taken for granted.  We had no accommodation organised for Marrakech and neither did Daniele so we exchanged global roaming numbers before he roared off down the mountain and we demolished the rest of our lamb.
Looking up from our plates, we saw a group of eight Honda Transalps cruising past, gleaming clean and carrying no luggage; their leader setting a conservative pace up front.  We finished our tea, paid a few dollar for our lunch and set off after them.
It seemed like no time at all before we were slipping by the shiny Transalps.  We waved each one as Elephant rumbled by; a behemoth among the spindly Hondas.  We imagined most of the riders would have rather tucked in behind Elephant’s broad arse and come along for a proper ride in the mountains.  That, after all, is what riding in Morocco is about.  That, and barbecued lamb chops by the side of the road!
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 120
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 25, 2013, 09:24:14 AM
Through all of this, we had been rubbing along pretty well with our Tunisian hosts. Big bikes like ours were very uncommon in Tunisia, so we certainly got noticed wherever we went.  I am surprised that Jos’ arm didn't fall off as she spent so much time waving to folks of all ages as we passed through the countryside.  When we stopped, young fellows would come over to look at the numbers on the speedo.  I didn't have the heart to tell them how optimistic they were with our big luggage fit.  The guys always asked how big the motor was and the answer of 1150cc left them with a stunned look on their faces.
With our riding suits, helmets, incomprehensible language, GPS and communications setup, we might as well have been space travellers in some remote villages.  Here, even more so than in Morocco, we were a curiosity.  We were, however, clearly strangers and clearly on a grand journey, something easily understood by these desert peoples with their long tradition of respect for travellers.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 142-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 26, 2013, 11:05:24 AM
In Le Kef, I needed to do some repairs to our helmet wiring looms.  These were the cables that linked the speakers and microphones in our helmets with the intercom system on the bike.   We had worn out a set each because of the constant flexing of the main cable where it exited the helmet.  I went to a little hardware store and explained the problem to the owner with an engineering drawing and a few words of French.  He and his assistant went to work finding parts that I might adapt to my needs and after 30 minutes and several revised drawings assembled the selection of bits.
When I asked him how much, he handed me the parts and with a broad smile, said there was no charge and welcome to Tunisia.  We smiled back our most thankful smiles and shook everyone's hand before taking our paper bag of bits back to the hotel to start work on the helmet repair.
It was through small kindnesses such as these that North Africa became the place where we started to understand something of the transaction we were involved in each time we interacted with local people.  We started to say that we were pushed on by the kindness of strangers, and this was certainly true, but it was not the whole story.  We found that each transaction involved an exchange. We would offer our story; the story of strangers and an odyssey, and in return they would offer kindness and their hopes for the success of our journey.  In the final part of the transaction, we would take their wishes and add them to the others we carried with us.  Each time we told the story of our journey in return for a favour done, we carried forward the expectations of yet another soul.  For it seemed that the idea of the journey transcended culture and that there was a universal belief that to journey among strangers is an honourable thing; a thing worth doing for its own sake.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 143-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 27, 2013, 09:21:59 AM
In late January 2008, on a rainy Tuesday, we stopped at a busy, muddy intersection at a small market town in the south of the Riff Mountains.  The policeman on duty saw us stop and check the road in both directions obviously considering which way to go.  He left his post and walked over to us and signalled the question “Can I help?”  We confirmed the direction we needed to take.  He then indicated the broader question, “Where are you going?”  We told him our story in a few mixed words of English, French and Arabic, together with a lot of sign language.  A huge smile came over his face: “So, you and your wife go on your bike.  You go to all the world’s countries and see all the world’s peoples.  Good luck!  Good luck!”
Perhaps that night, I said to Jo, he went home to his little daughter and said something along the lines of: “You will never guess what happened today. A man and a woman came to our town.  They were wearing space suits and riding on a puny elephant with spindly legs and a funny snout.  They told me they were going to see all of the world’s peoples and all of their places.  I gave them gift.  I gave them a smile and a wish, and they said that they would carry it over the Riff, over the high mountains, across the endless wheat plains and through the forest of the bear.  And they said that they would take it to the warm Pacific and cast it into the air and it would float back to me.”
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 144-5
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 28, 2013, 09:02:18 AM
With rugged mountains plunging straight into the sea, it was like riding your favourite bike road every day without rounding the same corner twice.  Some of it was challenging.  West of Sparta the mountain road clambered up through dozens of impossible switchbacks but, with the long winter in the Moroccan mountains behind us, Elephant’s hairpin technique was close to faultless.  We found ourselves swaying through the hills as though we were performing a kind of swooping dance; a mechanical ballet with an Elephant in a tutu.
We spent hours riding in first, second and third gear (we had 6) entering the corners wide and deep, turning late and hard when I could see the exit then keeping plenty of power going to the back wheel to keep it planted firmly (you have to think about the physics sometimes).  This is the classic bike cornering technique designed to give the rider options and traction and to keep the bike coming out of the corners on the safe side of the road.  Failure to master this simple method has killed more good men and women than the plague.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 163
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 29, 2013, 08:21:46 PM
I  have never minded riding in the rain, or riding in gusty cross-winds, or riding challenging mountain roads, but all three together is different matter.  The road twisted itself into a tortured knot of switchback corners and the rain thundered down turning the hairpins into rivers and covering them in debris.  The lightning seemed to strike on top of us and the thunder hit us with a wave of energy that shook us to the core.  We climbed on.  The storm wind ripped down the valleys and hit Elephant with a hammer-blow each time we were exposed from the lee of a spur.  High in the mountains it started to hail.  Big clumps of ice smashed into our helmets and arms and Elephant struggled to keep a steady grip on the marble road.  My arms and shoulders started to ache and I realised that I was gripping the controls too tightly trying to make each input smooth.  I tried to relax by shaking my shoulders consciously to release the knotted muscles and I found myself talking to Elephant, murmuring soothing, wooing sounds, steadying nerves.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 167-8
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 30, 2013, 08:19:47 AM
The day was also eventful in other ways.  During the two days, the Elephant sat in the hotel's front garden under its cover.  Unfortunately it also sat with its parking lights on as I had inadvertently turned the key one click too far before removal.  It was a silly mistake that left our battery so flat it wouldn't run the GPS much less spark the ignition.  As has often happened in tight situations, a friendly local went of his way to assist us.  A delivery driver was having coffee when I went back into the hotel.  He brought his van around and parked in close.  We didn't have a set of jumper cables, but we found two lengths of 10 amp electrical cable.  From (bitter) experience I knew that these would not provide the power to crank the engine so we connected the cables and let the Elephant draw some power from the van for about 15 minutes, resisting the temptation to press the starter and smoke the cables.  When there was enough power in Elephant’s battery to give a bright ignition light, we unloaded the luggage and Jo and the van-man gave a big, running push while I jump-started the beast in 3rd gear. The engine fired easily and we were away!
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 183-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 01, 2013, 11:17:11 AM
We often felt isolated by our complete inability to understand the Russian language and script but this was seldom a domestic problem.  Despite our complete lack of language, we always managed to find a bed and get fed, get repairs done on the bike, and negotiate our way through police checkpoints and border crossings.  We each had our areas of responsibility for the administrative tasks we collectively called hunting and gathering.  Jo was responsible for negotiating the accommodation while I parked the bike and kept it safe.  As she explained it, if she walked into a hotel or guesthouse, she probably wasn’t there to buy bread.  All that was required was to determine if a room was available, look at the room, signal acceptance, and negotiate the price using numbers written on a scrap of paper. 
A similar pantomime was played out in cafes and restaurants.  We would often walk around the tables and identify what looked good on other diners' plates then signal to the waiter that this was the dish we wanted.  It was a simple system and, if executed with a little good humour, generally got a good laugh from the locals and often an endorsement for our choice from the other diner.  In supermarkets Jo always stood back and let me make a fool of myself gesturing and smiling.  She had noticed that the women who inevitably served behind the counter were apt to find the foolishness of a bloke amusing, if not charming, but were not so well disposed towards charades by a female.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 229
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 02, 2013, 08:53:37 AM
Throughout our 12,000-kilometre ride across this stunning land we had rubbed along with the ordinary Russians going about their lives.  In the remote areas the only foreigners we met were other adventure riders.  The locals were friendly, amazingly helpful, curious, cheerful and pleased that we had made the effort to come to their town.  We had often said that we were propelled on our way by the kindness of strangers, but nowhere was this more so than in the Russian Far East.  Although there was always the risk that Elephant would miss-step and put us onto the road, we were confident that the Russians would stop and otter genuine assistance. It was just that kind of place.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 253
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 03, 2013, 09:06:55 AM
We found, as we travelled, that the idea of the journey had a deep cultural significance that was probably universal.  To journey far among strangers was seen as an honourable thing, worth doing for its own sake.  Our arrival on Elephant underscored the challenge of our journey; its difficulties and, therefore, its specialness.  We learned to tell the story of our journey quickly and efficiently and use it as a kind of currency.  We used a map with graphics to show where we had come from without the need for language.  We ended our explanation by saying, or indicating, “And now we are here!” This usually elicited a broad smile.  The personality of Elephant was the final element in the transaction.
Elephant was so distinctive that a small fan club formed wherever we parked.  People waved as we rode by and grown men asked to sit in the rider’s seat to have their photo taken.  People often said to us, “That's my dream, too,” and we often spent a half-hour or more answering questions and posing for photos and videos when we stopped in the street.  We spent the time willingly even when we were filthy, exhausted and hot, because we understood that this was our part of the transaction.  And, for their part, people were kind to us, and true to their own belief in the idea of the great journey.  With these thoughts sloshing about in our heads we rolled on towards Vladivostok, looking forward to our arrival and the symbolic end of our odyssey; the end of our easterly journey; the chimera at the end of a continent.
The Elephant's Tale  Mike Hannan p 255-6
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 04, 2013, 09:23:56 AM
It is indeed a vague measure of time.  In my case, the pointless wandering comprised an eleven year sleep of motorcyclelessness.  When I woke, I was in a dark hallway, stumbling forward with hopeful hands held out.  Then I saw a slice of light.  Closer, and I could see the title on the door from under which it spilled: “Bikes Here. Enter and Be Saved.”  Inside was such strangeness: Everything has changed!  At least on the surface- the great increase of riders, numbered in hundreds of thousands; the armored gear; the digitized, the carbon- fibered, the ABSed and GPSed, the piled-up complications of parts and pumps and suspensions; the listservs and forums ever-blossoming to encompass billions of words and countless thousands of clever avatars behind which masks were people who rode faster and braked better and knew more about more minutiae than was ever conceived of a decade earlier.  I reeled back.  For a moment.  Then, in the very center of the swirling din, I saw that what was elemental had not changed.  For it never could.  The joy.  The need.  The familial bond of blood.  The erotics of risk.
Finally, the realization that this all begins with miles.  And the consumption thereof.
The Man Who Would Stop At Nothing  Melissa Pierson p x
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 05, 2013, 12:57:36 PM
He had not yet fully become what some small, potent seed in him had long ago foreordained he would be: a rider of singular talent and drive, one of the top long-distance endurance riders in the world.  He would soon shatter the record on a frightful, 5,645-mile journey on some of the most difficult roadways in North America, and he would do it so fast (a blistering 86.5 hours, ten fewer than his predecessor) that no one could name the person who could have kept him in even distant sight ahead.  When he finishes this ride, the first thing he does will be to conceive of something harder to do next.  There are other people like him, who live to ride the ever more challenging ride.  But few of them think they might like to become the first person to ride upwards of two hundred thousand miles in a year; few of them are as truly strange as to think they could sit in the saddle for an average of 550 miles every day of the year, Christmas and New Year's not excepted.  John Ryan is thus alone-far and away alone- at the head of a small group, the rabid mile-eaters, that is hidden in plain sight near the very heart of motorcycling.
The Man Who Would Stop At Nothing  Melissa Pierson p 2-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 06, 2013, 08:34:51 AM
And so it is that long-distance riding can be seen as a proxy for the daily life-or-death struggle we were kitted out for as forest-dwelling hunters.  In its absence, we feel a need to find pursuits that exercise the same mental and physical capacities.  Or else they start to itch.  We want to feel fully alive, and fully ourselves.
In this way, riding to extremes takes humans home again.  The incomprehensibly extraordinary endeavour is nowhere better captured than in G. K. Chesterton's phrase “the immense act”.  Its undertaking is "human and excusable" due to the fact that "the thing was perfectly useless to everybody, including the person who did it”.
The Man Who Would Stop At Nothing  Melissa Pierson p 9
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 07, 2013, 08:51:32 AM
In order to do this, to be unlike anyone else in the world, he has cleared the decks of all the ropes and anchors the rest of humanity laboriously collects in order to feel safe, or in order to trip over.  By his own account, he has "no career, savings, or health insurance, because I have chosen to ride instead of responsibly chasing my tail like everyone else."  He does not have a car, or a house, or a wife, or children.  What he does have, as of the end of that first bun Burner Gold, is a calling.  The allusion to sacred ordination is more than apt: Ryan often refers to a special class, that of devout motorcyclist.
The Man Who Would Stop At Nothing  Melissa Pierson p 15
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 08, 2013, 10:13:25 AM
The people, and there are many, who simply don’t get LD riding seeing it in a place it does not belong: the standard motorcycling paradigm.  "Bikes take us to beautiful places (or adventuresome which in their difficulties are beautiful to a rider) that are experienced through the senses that touch the external world- sight, smell, sensation." But the way you must see this melodic variation on the motorcyclist theme is that the adventure is internal.  It aims itself toward the mountainous passes and river crossings of the mental and emotional landscape, as brutal and awe-inspiring and challenging as any route outside.  This inner country is rarely explored comprehensively, for the simple reason that the common structure of life has no quarter for it.  But engage the peculiar mechanics of deep time on a machine that focuses the mind like a laser at the same time it frees the bonds of the physical, and you go, fast, into infinite slowness.  Here is the lovely electrical charge of paradox; motorcycling taps deep into it.
The Man Who Would Stop At Nothing  Melissa Pierson p 26
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 09, 2013, 08:54:15 AM
We talk, of course.  They are heading to Hyder, Alaska, and back.  From Florida.  In two weeks.  They met six weeks earlier, he says, referring to her as his fiancee.  That is how I come to think of them as Jack Sprat and his wife, for she is as round as he is lean.
Two weeks- for somewhere around 7,400 miles?  This means they will have to keep a pace of 525 mile days, every day.  They will become intimately acquainted with every rest area and gas station, but not much else, along a route that will certainly be slab all the way.  This they referred to as their vacation.  The man has done this kind of riding for a long time; it is the only kind of riding he does.  He has read all the books related to Iron Butt rides, but he has never documented his own; he has never bothered with the membership card.
The Man Who Would Stop At Nothing  Melissa Pierson p 110
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 10, 2013, 08:46:53 AM
Gary Orr rode coast-to-coast non-stop, 2,232 miles, without ever putting a foot down- from San Diego to Madison, Florida- using a trailer hauling gas for his BMW K1200LT.  A November 2008 Rider magazine squib on the feat was titled “Depends?”
The Man Who Would Stop At Nothing  Melissa Pierson p 115
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 11, 2013, 09:57:26 AM
This was what I felt awakening in me, after my eleven-year sleep: the desire to feel again.  All that sensation- a throwing of self into a pile of leaves, game of tennis, pillow fight- is an animal expression of exuberance.  And exuberance is the lifeblood of childhood, the time we first understand and collect sensation.  To be exuberant, to ride, is to return to the best part of life; not to remember, but to re-live.  Hiding, in its physicality, connected me back with life, which itself is essentially and only physical- the body in space, the body feeling things.  Thus it connected me to my mortality, because at some point I would no longer be able to ride.
The Man Who Would Stop At Nothing  Melissa Pierson p 142
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 12, 2013, 01:56:47 PM
Next Mike pulled out another certificate and held it up for all to see- even though they couldn't, the room was so large.  They knew what it said, in recognition of an incredible eighty-six hours and thirty-one minutes for a ride of 5,645 miles.  "We have our secret clubs," he intoned, "and you, John Ryan, will forever be in the secret UCC club."  As Ryan moved to leave his seat to receive due, Kneebone started tearing the certificate into tiny bits that fell like snow to the floor. He then reached down to pull out another, this one saying only, "under four days," a mathematical vagueness. 
Ryan, who had retreated, now got up again and this time took hold of an acknowledgment, in the only form the Iron Butt Association would give.  Those who knew the rest of the story, the one that would remain written only in wind on the slate of the memory, stood up in a body to give Ryan, standing by the podium with a shy, proud smile, a standing ovation.  A moment of effusion, and then they sat down.
The Man Who Would Stop At Nothing  Melissa Pierson p 177
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 13, 2013, 08:43:48 AM
Ed Otto, who finished in tenth place on a touring  motorcycle in 1993, entered the 1995 rally riding a 250cc finished in twenty-second place, ahead of 17 modern, full- sized motorcycles!  This gives weight to IBA President Mike Kneebone's feeling that it is the rider that determines how well one finishes in the IBR, not the motorcycle.  The rider has to keep a clear head and be able to discern the best route from all of the available bonus locations.  The rider has to cope with bad weather, bad food, bad health, bad roads, and the other trials and tribulations of an eleven-day rally.  The rider has to be constantly sorting through options as the physical and mental stresses of the rally wear away at their soul.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 40
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 16, 2013, 10:13:58 AM
The IBR folk sometimes put a bonus with a large point they do this so that the new riders can learn quickly what is needed to successfully score a bonus, and so that they would be able to shoot video of the riders for a movie called Hard Miles Two.  I really think that they do it for their own amusement; they can watch the pandemonium of 101 riders trying grab the same bonus at the same time.
The first bonus in 2007 was the scene of much hullabaloo at the Gateway Arch in Saint Louis, which was less than a half hour from the start.  That bonus required parking in a parking deck, and hiking two hundred yards in 98 degree heat and 100% humidity to take a photo in the visitors’ museum under the Gateway Arch.  It also required passing through a metal detector.  I and other riders were told at the entrance to the museum (in the leg of the Arch) that we could not enter with our pocket knives, so we had to return to the parking lot to stow them away and then hike back to the Arch.  Meanwhile, almost all of the riders waited in a long line at the Arch's entrance closest to the parking lot.  Several of us figured out that the entrance at the other leg of the Arch didn't have a line and were able to get in and out in just a few minutes.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 72
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 17, 2013, 09:09:24 AM
There was humor in the BMW bonus.  The rally theme in this year is the scene-of-the-crime and quite a few BMW riders in the past decade have been stopped hard in their tracks when the final drive that connects the transmission to the rear wheel on their motorcycle failed with no warning.  This failure seems to happen more often to long-distance riders than to folks who ride a few thousand miles a year.
Typically, a mere moment before a failure occurs the rider feels as if there is some looseness in the rear wheel and then they are sidelined by the failure of the main drive bearing as it disintegrates.  A number of riders have had this happen two, three, or even four times, and some riders think that it is a crime that BMW doesn't make a reliable motorcycle any longer.  As a matter of fact, three of the top riders who have a very real chance to win this event have taken precautions against final-drive failures on their BMWs.  Two of them are carrying a spare, thirty-five pound, $1,200 final-drive unit in their kit.  This is the equivalent of a car driver carrying a spare rear axle and differential in the back seat just-in-case.  The other rider has changed motorcycle brands from BMW to Honda.   My R60 has an older design for its final drive and failures are nearly unheard of. 
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 73
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 18, 2013, 07:12:21 PM
In order to certify the Four Corners Tour the rider has to visit four remote corners of the U.S.  They are San Ysidro, California; Blaine, Washington; Madawaska, Maine; and Key West, Florida, and finish within three weeks.  They can do it in any order and they document the visit with a post card and photograph.   For most motorcyclists this is done in a circle around the country and is a monumental, once-in-a-lifetime achievement.  McQueeney rode from his home in California to San Ysidro and then returned home.  He changed motorcycles and rolled on to Blaine and then home again.  On a third motorcycle he went to Madawaska and home yet again.  On a fourth motorcycle he rode to Key West and then home.  He did all of this within the time limit by staying in the saddle hour- after-hour and completing sixteen 1,000 mile days in a row. I stand in awe of riders like Dave.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 103-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Neale on May 19, 2013, 07:57:15 AM
That is excellent. And when youtubecomes up, what is also sitting there? Arlo Guthrie singing the Motorcycle song.  Takes me back to my teens in the seventies.

Neale


Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk HD
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 19, 2013, 06:29:30 PM
The ability to puzzle out the rally packet and successfully ride your plan leads to the highest point score and that is what determines the standings.  Riding a 1976 motorcycle with a top speed approaching some of the speed limits on western roads has given me an insight into making miles.   It is the ability to stay in the saddle and ride that makes miles add up.  Fast gas stops, bathroom stops, and food stops equate to more time riding.  Eric Jewell, who was riding his fourth IBR, once told me that going through the drive-thru at a burger restaurant makes for the fastest meal breaks.  I tried his tip during this rally and it worked well.  I would pull up to the serving window and get a couple of hamburgers, unwrap them, and place them in the dog-dish that rests on top of my fairing.  It was sometimes messy but always quick.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 111
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 21, 2013, 10:58:22 AM
Every minute of every day the IBR rider is focused on time, distance, and speed.  Every bonus, every checkpoint, every rest stop is based on this focus.  I was constantly running the numbers in my mind.  Could I stay with my plan?  Would I have to drop a bonus?  Could I add a bonus?  This is not just a process of worry or uncertainty.  This is “the” process of succeeding in the IBR- constantly tweaking the plan, or not.  I just simply can't describe how this constant re- figuring can wreak havoc with one's normal way of doing every action, fuel stop, rest break, bonus confirmation, and meal revolved around the rally.  I did this constantly while awake and bet that I did it in my dreams.  It becomes second-nature to be counting down the time left for a meal break as I ate, to curse a slow gas pump, or feel great that a road could be traveled more quickly than I'd thought.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 122-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 22, 2013, 11:34:39 AM
As I rode I remembered one of the reasons for my DNF in 2007 was dehydration and I was making sure that I was sucking down water.  I carried a gallon water jug which I filled at each stop.  I made it a point to drink a few long pulls on the bite-valve every ten minutes whether I felt like drinking or not. 
At the next stop I followed the advice I'd been given by quite a few long-distance riders and sealed up my riding suit.  Yes, it's counter-intuitive to close all the openings on clothing in the desert heat, but it worked very well.  I zipped up the jacket and closed all of the vents in the jacket and pants except for a small one on my back.  I even closed the sleeve vents and my helmet visor and this made the ride considerably more bearable. Not pleasant by any means, but tolerable.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 133-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 23, 2013, 09:18:05 AM
I can fall asleep on a picnic table or on the sidewalk.  However, I do sleep lightly and every time that I would hear a noise I would wake up.  I guess that is a good survival trait but it's lousy when it comes to getting several hours of needed sleep.  I made up my mind that for the 2009 IBR I would spend the money to stay at motels every day for sleeping.  While this led to better, uninterrupted sleep, it did chew a bit into the rally clock.  It also chapped me to spend $85.00 for a four hour stay.  Motels and hotels make a lot of noise about their amenities.  Cable TV, Wi-Fi, great bedding, sterilized TV remote controls, and continental breakfasts to name but a few.  Usually all I wanted was to stumble into a quiet room and sleep for four hours.  Once I didn't even get out of my riding suit before falling asleep.  Every second in the room not spent sleeping was a second that I would regret the next day.  I had a bag on the bike that I would carry into the room.  It had the chargers for my cell phone and laptop, alarm clock, sticky notes, and a pen.   I would write myself a note on my location and wake-up time, plug in the chargers, and be asleep within five minutes.  This night, I grabbed a full, five hours of sleep.  It may not sound like much, but I was thankful for every minute of it.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 170-1
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 24, 2013, 08:25:29 AM
My goal here was to get my photo and leave before one of the unhappy denizens next door realized that there was a lone biker out front.  Conversely, I was laughing quietly to myself because I was trying to be incognito while standing in the middle of a deserted street taking flash photos of a post office building in order to get one that I thought would satisfy the IBR scoring staff.  I finally got a photo exposure that showed the information I needed and rode back out of town.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 178-9
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 25, 2013, 03:46:59 PM
This was a cool stop for me. It combined hard-to-find gravel roads and strange roads, mystery, fear, and one heck of a challenge to get to and from. This one bonus emotionally paid for the entire rally.  I was standing at an interesting place that I would never have visited if it were not for the Iron Butt Rally.  There was a strange-but-true story attached to the bonus that was both frightening and bizarre.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 184
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on May 25, 2013, 05:29:54 PM
Well, what's the strange but true story?   :crazy

 :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 25, 2013, 06:01:30 PM
You've got to buy the book, but I might take pity on you...    :grin
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on May 25, 2013, 06:44:31 PM
That's cruel, you get me interested and to an interesting part then shut the book!   :eek


 :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 26, 2013, 11:11:42 PM
OK- just for STeveo!

I had read about the biological attack when it was in the news, and even though the cult was long gone, it was an interesting feeling knowing that I was standing where the plan was hatched.  I asked the other rider to take a picture of me holding my rally flag, and then entered the bonus information in the rally packet.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 184-5

To put it in context, the Bonus Point Location was the site of a cult in Oregon in 1981.  The members introduced salmonella into local restaurant dishes poisoning over 750 people.  They were trying to reduce voter turn-out in a local election.   :eek
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on May 27, 2013, 06:58:41 AM
Thank you Biggles. Makes me think of how easily it could be done in this country and how vunerable we all are.  :think1

 :bl11
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 27, 2013, 12:27:03 PM
However, this was a good gravel road and I eventually got up to a whopping forty-five miles an hour.  This is painfully slow by most standards of riding but light-speed fast for me, until I had to make a sharp left curve and the bike wanted to go straight.  The handlebars started to slam back- and-forth from one steering lock to the other in what is referred to as a tank-slapper and I was headed for the two foot deep ditch on the right side of the road.  At the last possible, second I remembered some advice I’d been offered about riding in gravel.   I’d been told to stay off of the brakes and give the bike full throttle in order to power through the bad stuff.  I desperately opened the throttle wide and as the R60's fifty horsepower came on-line the front wheel snapped to the straight forward position and I just motored to the left and around that curve.   I was now absolutely wide-awake and full of adrenalin.  By the way, that curve had a bright yellow motorcycle fender resting at the bottom of the ditch.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 186
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 28, 2013, 08:54:58 AM
The first things Roger looked over were my receipts and he compared them to what I'd entered on my gas-log.  On the third receipt he said that I had entered an eight on my log, whereas I should have entered a zero.  I broke out in a cold sweat as I assured him that the number he was looking at on the computer generated receipt was an eight and not a zero with a bar through the center.  To my absolute freaking horror Roger then  pulled  out a magnifying glass.   Not a little pocket magnifying glass, but a large round glass with a large black handle.  The IBR folk take scoring seriously.  The rules for scoring have been explained again and again to the riders.  No matter what happens, the rider must not get upset or be disrespectful to the scoring staff.  The staff volunteers their time and they are tasked with scoring black and white basis.   The bonus meets all requirements exactly or it is denied. Being rude to a scorer is grounds for disqualification from the rally.  I began to seriously wonder if it would be considered disrespectful if I became violently ill.
Roger held the receipt up to the light as he looked at it with the magnifying glass like Sherlock Holmes studying a fragment of bone and said "No, look at this eight here and this zero over here and you can see that there is a slight angle to the zero cross bar but no angle at alI on the crossbar on the eight.”  I looked through the magnifying glass and he was right.  By a few ten-thousandths of an inch there was a difference.  It was definitely a zero when studied on the subatomic level and one hundred and twenty-five points disappeared in a mist of cheap dot-matrix ink.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 197
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 29, 2013, 09:38:35 AM
When he got to 60th place and read my name he added that I had finished with over 523,000 miles on the R60 and there was a standing ovation that lasted until I got back to my seat.
This reaction to my finish from this group of hard-riders stunned me.  I shook Bob's hand and Mike Kneebone's hand as I received my plaque and license plate-back which states "Iron Butt Rally 11 Days 11,000 miles".
I had officially covered 10,554 miles in the eleven days and had done it on a motorcycle that was a third of a century old and a half-million miles worn.  My final score was 81,106 points.  I was also realizing that this rally had been fun.  Other than the glitches with the side-stand and saddlebag I had a good time.  Sure, I was relentlessly weary at times, but in 2007 there were several times each day that I wondered why I was doing what I was doing, and that sense of despair never happened during this rally.  Not once!
Instead of cursing the rain or the traffic or the clock or the heat or the distance, I had looked at these things as challenges and I was digging the ride.  It was fun.  I certainly wasn't as good at figuring out the bonus puzzle as the fifty-nine riders who finished ahead of me, but I did remarkably better than I had in 2007.  I was a happy camper!
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 201
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 30, 2013, 09:18:44 AM
At 5:30 a.m. we left the hotel parking lot and stopped at a gas station a few block away.  The station was closed but the pumps were powered up and we filled up at different islands.  After I put the nozzle back on the pump I realized that the printer on the pump was out of paper and I wasn't going to get a receipt.  I started fussing loudly about the damned receipt and having to take a picture and document the station.  I was irate and cussing like a sailor as in a split second I had tripped from happy-go-lucky to pissed-off.
Then, from the other gas island I heard Bill yell "The rally is over."  "It's over."  "You - don't - need - a - receipt."
He was laughing so hard he could barely get the words out.  He was right of course.   But, after years of training, setting a regular routine for fuelling, and just ending the IBR where a receipt can make or break you, it is truly hard to return to the everyday.   I grinned at Bill, climbed on the R60, and we headed east.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 203-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 31, 2013, 12:48:41 PM
Getting over the rally took time.  Just like the angst I felt when I didn't get a receipt for gas in Spokane, I had tuned myself for the rally and the training took quite a while to wear off.   It was over a month before I stopped waking up in the middle of the night in a panic thinking that I had overslept and needed to get to a bonus.  Several times I was out of bed and half-dressed before I realized that Susie was telling me that "The rally is over and you are home."   Sometimes she had to say it a few times because I was busy dressing, trying to remember where I was back down to go to sleep again while still convincing myself that I really was at home and not having a dream during the rally.
I was worried about everyday things like how long it took me to eat lunch since I was used to a three-minute-meal.  Sitting in a restaurant to eat was a long luxury that made me flat-out nervous.  It was December before life returned to normal.
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 207
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 01, 2013, 11:34:15 AM
A comparison that comes up when explaining the IBR is that more people have climbed to the top of Mount Everest in a single year than have finished the Iron Butt Rally in its entire history.  Four hundred and twenty-three climbers made it to the summit of Mount Everest in 2009.  Four hundred and three riders have finished the IBR since its inception in 1984.
The first day I was at work after the Rally I was talking about the ride to several folks and one asked me how I had done. I told him that I had finished.  He asked where I had finished in the standings  and I said 59th to which he exclaimed, "You spent all of that money and time just to finish 59th?"
I was going to explain that a person climbing Everest didn’t care whether they were the first person at the summit that season or the last as they were standing on the top of the world.  I was going to emphasize the grand adventure I had been on.  I was going to speak to the challenge of covering eleven thousand miles in eleven days.  Instead, I just looked at him, grinned, and said "Yes."  Bill Thweatt was correct when he said "Some people just don't get it!"
Hopeless Class  Joel Rappoport p 208
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 02, 2013, 12:22:52 PM
I remember only too well my first two trips to Alaska in 1977 and 1981:
I took both trips with the same 1977 Suzuki - a reliable road machine, but it didn't handle well on any kind gravel or other loose surface, especially the way I had it loaded.  But on each of those trips I managed to ride on more than 200 miles of dirt and loose gravel, and sometimes through quagmires of mud for more than 20 miles at a time. There were other times during the trip that I rode through many miles of snow, and I still managed to do a fair amount of exploring.  I certainly had my hands full on both of those trips, and I'm not anxious to take on that kind of challenge again very soon, especially at my age.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 16
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 03, 2013, 09:15:45 AM
It also brought back memories of my fifth trip to Alaska in 1992, which was the 50th anniversary year of the Alaska Highway.  In spite of its being paved for its entire length, I rode my 1986 Honda Gold Wing on more than 2,000 miles of gravel roads to get to Anchorage and back while purposely avoiding as much of the main highway as I could, due to the heavy RV traffic that was expected to be using it that year - and also to satisfy a passion for exploring some of the most remote areas.  I carried extra gas in Prestone bottles on the back seat of the Gold Wing through the longest gaps in gas availability.  I met my objective of avoiding the heavy RV traffic though, in that I saw practically no vehicles at all for days, and I was in my glory, riding all by myself in the far reaches of the Canadian wilderness, where I saw bear, bison, caribou, fox, lynx, and many other animals in their natural habitat.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 18-19
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 04, 2013, 09:09:13 AM
I was finally ready to leave on a four-week, 11,000 mile trip to Alaska with a dirt bike, a patched-up pair of rain boots, no saddlebags and a windshield that wouldn't keep the weather off of me.  But I had a lot of confidence in the bike, and I was anxious to get underway on what I figured would be a great ride.
Needless to say, without the saddlebags I brought a lot less gear than usual and I packed exceptionally light; and I was well aware before leaving that it would be a rough trip for my 79-year-old body.  But I called Jim and told him I was ready to go.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 23
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 05, 2013, 10:52:37 AM
I had stopped in the middle of the scarcely-travelled gravel road for a nature break.  We hadn't seen another vehicle or sign of civilization for at least an hour, and we left Flin Flon before any breakfast places were open.  Bud naturally asked, "Where are we stopping for breakfast?"
I said, "I was thinking of right here," as I reached in the trunk of the Gold Wing for a tin of sardines that I was carrying.  Bud, who always looked forward to and treasured his sunny-side-up eggs with several strips of crisp lean bacon and a nice hot cup of coffee in the morning, said with an attitude, "You've got to be kidding!" refused to partake of the sardines and dug somewhat be grudgingly into his own bag for some beef jerky while Jake and I shared a can of the fish, and the three of us stood there having breakfast in the middle of the road in a light drizzle with the temperature in the mid 40s [F].  It's certainly not the classiest of breakfast places, but I think it worked out well enough under the circumstances.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 29-30
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 06, 2013, 08:14:32 PM
A few words at this point about my eyesight that had been getting progressively worse over the past few years: I was often unable to read road signs unless the sun was somewhere behind me and shining on the sign.  The same applied to my instruments like the odometer that I needed for following my route sheet; and the bike's clock, both of which use pale LED displays.  I couldn't read the route sheet on my tank bag either unless I came to a complete stop first, even though I used a 14-size font with bold lettering.  My eyes are on the borderline for keeping my driver's license that I can only get with a signature from my eye doctor - and she sometimes shudders when I tell her about some of my motorcycling experiences; but maybe she thinks I'm exaggerating to spice up the story!  I could rarely see the Canadian route markings during this trip, which are considerably smaller and less bold than most of those in the US. I can also rarely see motel and/or restaurant signs unless they're within less than 100 feet and I'm moving slowly.  I usually had no problem with the "Golden Arches" though, which I suppose is one of the reasons they chose that particular symbol.  Whenever the light is subdued, as it often gets on overcast days, I have difficulty seeing cars coming from the opposite direction tor any great distance - especially when it's raining and they're coming toward me without headlights, which also makes it a lot tougher to pass on two-lane roads.  I almost never execute the bold passes anymore for which I had become known a few years back when my eyesight and reflexes were a lot better.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 37-38
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 07, 2013, 10:05:19 AM
Jim's first experience with one of the infamous steel-grated bridges along the Alaska Highway with their deep grooves running in the direction of travel came that morning while crossing the Peace River.  The grooves can be disconcerting to a motorcyclist and even turn the knuckles a little white if they're not expecting it, and Jim wasn't.
We ran through our first cold, zero-visibility fog bank in Fort St. John that morning.  Truck traffic was stop-and-go and exceptionally heavy in town, causing us to lose about 20 minutes riding through a half-mile of thick fog and heavy traffic.  I eventually had to flip the face shield up, remove my glasses and ride with I bare eyeballs in order to see anything at all as we felt our way through town.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 46
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 08, 2013, 06:17:49 PM
I instinctively locked both brakes with absolutely no hope of avoiding the inevitable because I was already less than 75 feet from impact when I first spotted the sheep- and there was zero time for me to change course or to do anything other than lock the brakes, hang on and leave the rest to God.
It's the moment that we all dread and hope will never happen to us.  It comes with a feeling that's hard to describe, but once you've experienced it, you'll never forget it. The trouble with this particular feeling is that most people aren't around to describe it afterward.  There was zero time to pray.  The locked brakes threw the bike sideways a split-second before the headlight and windshield made initial contact with the head of the lead sheep.  Meanwhile, the rear end of the bike whipped around and whacked the sheep full broadside a split-second later.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 50-51
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 09, 2013, 12:49:04 PM
The powerful collision sent the sheep tumbling down the highway as I clung desperately to the handlebars as tight as I could, maybe even with super-human strength.  I'm guessing that my speed at the time of impact was still around 50 mph, with the bike fully sideways and still perfectly upright. The force of impact almost tore me clear off of the seat sideways, but I was somehow miraculously able to hang on.  My left leg got squeezed between the bike and the sheep's belly at the same instant that the left tank pannier, directly in front of my knee, took the brunt of the impact as it struck the bony area of the sheep's front shoulder.  Luckily the pannier, which holds my overnight bag, was a few inches thicker than my knee, and it was fully packed, which is what saved my leg that otherwise would have taken the force of the crushing blow and probably broken it, and maybe broken my knee too.  It was a miracle in itself that my leg and knee connected with the sheep's belly, which felt like a huge cushion.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 51
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 10, 2013, 09:29:55 AM
The impact threw the tail end of the bike back to its original straightforward position, and I suddenly found myself facing forward again with the bike now rolling only about 10 mph or less, i was still hanging onto the bars as tight as I could.  The whole incident took only a few seconds.
In spite of being in a slight daze and even before the wheels stopped turning, I thanked God, I thanked my angels and I thanked my family and friends who pray for me.  I was convinced that God had just bestowed one of His greatest miracles on me.  It was certainly one of the greatest I had ever known, and I've had a few real beauties in my lifetime.  I could hardly believe I had come through totally unscathed.  It seemed that the end result for me was simply a slightly sprained ankle - the only physical injury I got from it, other than having the wind knocked out of me - and it certainly scared me half-to-death.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 52
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 11, 2013, 10:06:25 AM
Twenty miles out, we went through another cold fogbank and for the next ten miles I rode with bare eyeballs and no face shield again, and this time it was with no windshield either.  I could barely see well enough to hold the 60 mph that we were travelling.  My eyeballs couldn't handle the cold dense fog at any higher speeds, nor was it safe to go much faster with the limited visibility.  Fortunately the bugs weren't out that early to get into my eyes.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 68
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 12, 2013, 09:33:08 AM
About 10 miles out of Meade the wind got so strong that it was picking up dirt and sand from surrounding prairie and it was blasting the side of my face with it.  It soon increased to a frightening velocity and I realized I was caught out on the open prairie in a full-blown sand storm with no shelter from it.  The first thing I thought of was to stop at the edge of the road to remove the duct tape and close the faceshield.
After stopping, my feet kept slipping and sliding on the sandy surface and I didn't have enough hands to hold the bike from blowing over and to work on the shield at the same time.  The road was totally covered with sand.  I tried to turn the bike into the wind but the sand was making the surface so slippery that my feet kept sliding out.  I was miles from anywhere and there was no place to duck into or get behind.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 117-8
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 13, 2013, 09:45:20 AM
After getting underway, I thought the safest speed might be between 50 and 55 mph because anything less wasn't offering enough gyroscopic action for the wheels and the wind was throwing the bike around a lot on the sand; and I figured that anything faster wouldn't leave enough weight on the road for adequate tire traction.  Meanwhile, the temperature was up around 100° and it was drying me up like a prune, especially after having taken my diuretic medication.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 118
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 14, 2013, 11:14:16 AM
Around noon the next day I stopped in the small town of Beloit, Kansas to inquire about US Rte 36, a road I had been looking for and thought I might have passed.  The road I was on was very lightly travelled and it went straight through the town, like in many small towns on the prairie.  I parked in front of a Case-International tractor dealer and walked inside to ask for directions.  There was no one around so I called out, "Anybody here?"  No one answered and I repeated it a few times.  My voice echoed inside the building.  There were many farm tractors and pickup trucks inside, and at least three offices, but there was not a soul around.  It looked like someone could walk off with the place.
I went next door to an open hardware store and called out again: "Anybody here?"  There was no one there either.  I walked across the deserted street to a gas station that I found to be closed and locked.  I stood for a minute and looked around.  Nothing was moving anywhere, and I saw no one.  There was just dead silence.  I was beginning to get an eerie feeling that maybe there was no one in the entire town - like on the old TV series “The Twilight Zone”.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 136
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 15, 2013, 09:24:34 PM
I went back to the bike, got on, and drove off slowly, looking into every yard for someone to ask.  As I was about to leave the north end of the town, I saw a diner with at least 15 to 20 pickup trucks parked outside.  The place was packed.  I parked the bike and went inside.  The loud din of voices that I met suddenly fell silent as everyone turned to look at me. 
I said, "Could anyone please tell me where I could find US Rte 36?" After a brief pause, I heard a gruff male voice say, "Up the road about 12 miles."
I said thanks, and I added: "Does everyone in this town go to lunch at the same time?  I couldn't find a soul anywhere."  I left while they were all laughing.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 136-7
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 16, 2013, 12:04:08 PM
I said, "Could you tell me where I might find a gas station?"  He looked puzzled and answered that he didn't know but his dad or mom probably would, asked if they were home.
"My mom's home," he said.
"Would you mind getting her please?"  He got off the mower and disappeared into the house.  Moments later an attractive young woman appeared, wearing shorts, a halter-top and sandals and I repeated the question.  She answered smiling, "We have a gas station right here."
"Really?  Could I possibly buy some? I'm about to run out."
She said, "Yes, of course.  Follow me," and she led me across the farmyard to a pump that was probably used for filling the farm vehicles.  I asked if it had a gauge and she said it probably does but the glass is much too cloudy to read.  I said I needed around five gallons and I asked if that would be OK.  She handed me the hose and turned on the power for the pump.  Gas began to flow into my tank as soon as I squeezed the handle, but seconds later she noticed that the hose was spewing gas at the other end, and she said, "Oh my goodness, we're getting more on the ground than in the tank," and she turned the pump off.  I looked into my tank and could see that I had already gotten almost a half-tank.
I said it would probably be enough to get me to a gas station.  I reached for my wallet and handed her a $20 bill.  She said, "I don't know what to charge. I don't know how much gas is going for nowadays, or how much we pay for it."  I answered that if the $20 isn't enough, I'd be happy to pay more.  “Oh no,” she said, "I meant that I don't know how much change to give you."
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 192-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 17, 2013, 12:47:54 PM
Please don't be concerned about change.  I'm very happy to get the gas and I would like for you to accept it."  I had no idea how much had spilled on the ground she might be in big trouble for using the gas pump with a broken hose and wasting so much.  She took it and offered her hand to shake hands and said, "My name is Ann."
I said, "Hi Ann. My name is Piet.  I'm very happy to meet you."  She saw my license plate and asked, "What in the world are you doing in this little farmyard in North Dakota?"  I told her a little about my trip and we chatted for several minutes.
Needless to say, it was another of the nicest encounters I had on the trip.  I thought after leaving that maybe I should keep wandering around this beautiful country meeting nice people like that along the way, and the thought crossed my mind - do I really have to go home?
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 193-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 18, 2013, 09:57:12 AM
I was totally exhausted and I hurt all over, and that fatigue and pain stayed with me for almost two weeks afterward.  My eyesight, which had been in poor shape for years, was never worse than it was on this trip.  But I'll say to anyone who might ask, "So why do you do it?”  One of the things that comes to mind is Winston Churchill's famous quote during World War II, at the height of the Battle for Britain, soon after a horrendous air raid blitz inflicted heavy damage on the city of London - he said, "Never, Never, Never give in."  Herb Gunnison was much more blunt in his book “Seventy Years on a Motorcycle” when he said, "Don't ever let the bastards take it away from you."
I feel much the same about my long distance riding.  Giving up something I've loved doing for most of my life is like surrendering to life itself, which I have no intention of doing - if I can help it.  Travelling alone on the byways of this beautiful country is what I intend to continue doing for as long as I can get my leg over the machine; and for as long as I can still handle the pain - and for as long as my eyesight holds out enough to find my way out of the driveway.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 199-200
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 19, 2013, 09:24:02 AM
I was up at 4 AM, packed, loaded and out for breakfast by 5:45.  It was cool when I left town with the morning sun glistening on the dew-covered alfalfa fields.  I love smells of early mornings in farm country, especially on a nice two-lane bike road with long vistas and sweeping curves.  The smell of honeysuckle was in air, intermingled with the sour smell of fermenting silage and other odours from the barnyards, and from the crops being exposed to the heat of the morning sun. was one of those mornings when it feels good to be alive - and riding a motorcycle.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 214
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 20, 2013, 08:45:10 AM
My most serious problem of the day was when the early-morning sun blinded me so much I couldn't read any of the signs during rush hour traffic coming into Atlanta where I-20 meets the beltway. It was a challenge for my eyesight when all four lanes of traffic were running bumper-to-bumper at a steady 80 mph and I had to switch from I-20 to I-85 without having a clue where the split was, and I was unable to read any of the signs.  It actually went well though.  I relied on my faith to be in the right lane when the time came to dive out of the 80 mph stream of madness into the relatively sedate cloverleaf at the last split-second.
It’s tough when you get old, but even tougher when you can't see!  Fortunately, I made some good guesses on which lane to be in and at what split-second to dive for the exit or entry ramps.  I learned a week later that well-known Iron Butt competitor Eddie James was killed on the same highway only a few days before I came through.  Some of the speeds they were travelling are scary, especially when you realize that many are kids still in high school; and others are older people, bordering on senility - all running bumper-to-bumper, four-abreast at 80 mph with the trucks.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 243-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 21, 2013, 10:31:24 AM
The bike was hard starting with the temperature around 14°, and the front brake calipers were frozen, causing the brakes to drag.  The interstate didn't seem that bad, but when I got to the gas station, I couldn't turn the ignition switch off because the lock was frozen in the 'on' position and the key was frozen in the lock.  My spare key was at the motel, making it impossible to gas up.  So I went back to my room and thawed the lock with a hot wet towel and got the key out, and I decided to deal with the problem in the morning.
The temperature Tuesday morning was 3°, with a wind chill of minus 12.  After walking to breakfast, I loaded the bike and got totally suited up before trying to start it.  l used a hot wet towel to thaw the lock enough to get the key in and turn it.  The starter barely turned over, and I was concerned it would run the battery down before it started.  For at least a full minute, it just popped once and failed to catch.  It took eight or ten tries before it finally started.  When it did, I left the motel wearing just about everything I had with me.  Thank goodness for the electric vest and gloves.  I wore my heavy woollen knee warmers under the riding suit.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 269-70
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 22, 2013, 09:21:35 AM
The roads were a total mess.  It snowed all week and was still snowing on Saturday.  Places near my home got much as 30 inches in five days.  I probably could have gotten out Saturday, snow showers and all, but I wanted to spare the chain and engine cases from the salt brine - so I delayed it a day and left on Sunday.  My sons did a great job of shovelling and sanding the driveway to give me a safe exit to the street.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 275
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 29, 2013, 11:48:56 AM
I'm baaaack!   :grin

I came to a roadblock where six state troopers were inspecting vehicles, I pulled in and turned off the engine - I wasn't wearing my hearing aid and wanted to hear what was being said.  One big guy said, "Don't turn it off," as he walked around to the right side of the bike, while several others stood in a line on my left side.  I said as the big guy walked around the bike, “It’s over on this side, at the top of the fork leg."  He said, "I already saw it.  Do you have a motorcycle license?"
I laughed and said, I sure do.  I've had one since they "grand-fathered" me in more than 50 years ago and I reached for my wallet.  He said, "I don't have to see it."
I said, "I'm out taking a ride to celebrate my 86th birthday" - which got a few smiles and at least one "Happy Birthday" as I restarted the bike and said, "Have a nice day," and I left.
Keep Going!  Piet Boonstra p 284-5
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 30, 2013, 11:54:47 AM
There's another stretch of asphalt nearby that's stranger and perhaps even more fun to ride than the Rowena Curves: 3.6 miles, twenty-five curves, leading to absolutely nothing. Imagine building your own private road for the purpose of sport riding.  What would you build?  Well, you’d probably start with a hillside location that would provide lots of opportunities for elevation change and curves, but would be open enough to allow generous sight lines.  You'd make sure the asphalt was perfectly smooth and grippy, and you'd probably make each curve unique, designing a smorgasbord of hairpins, sweepers, increasing-radius, constant-radius and decreasing-radius turns.  And you wouldn't waste space on a straight.  Sport riding is about leaning, so the run would consist of turns, all the way.
That perfectly describes the Maryhill Loops.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 25
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 01, 2013, 08:31:49 AM
In an aerial view, the road looks like a very squiggly line drawn with a black marker on light brown paper.  The dry, treeless slope allows for sightlines through most of the tight curves, which is always a good thing, though it mattered less than ever as I rode onto the Loops knowing that absolutely no other traffic lay ahead.  I quickly dispensed with first gear and rolled into the series of curves in second, which would probably work for just about all of the road ahead.  Shifting above third just amounts to putting unnecessary wear and tear on the gearshift lever, so I concentrated on rolling on and off the throttle, taking advantage of the grip provided by this dry, unmarred asphalt that has been lying here, curing in the sun.
I scrubbed away the vestiges of chicken strips on my tires and soon, all too soon, I reached the gravel turnaround area at the top of the hill.  The brief, 3.6-mile length is absolutely the only thing detracting from this ride.  But when you can ride it again and again, as you can during the rally, even that isn't much of a drawback.  And better yet, because I happened to get there early, I got to ride it alone.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 29-30
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 02, 2013, 09:19:21 AM
Lured by the sheer oddity of the event, I mail in my entry for Lake Erie Loop V.I have no illusions of earning any of those bragging rights, but I can at least finish, right?  In a lifetime of varied and sometimes misguided motorcycling, I’ve done a thousand-mile day, I've survived the infamous and since revised Turn 12 at Road Atlanta, I've been caught on the road by unexpected snowfall, and sideswiped by a car at 60 mph on the freeway at 2 a.m. yet lived to tell those and other tales.  I can surely survive the Loop.  The only problem is, I don't have a Loop-legal motorcycle.
Ah, but I know where I can get my hands on one.  Years ago, my father gave my mother a 1996 Suzuki GN125 as a fifty-ninth birthday present, knowing she wanted to get back into motorcycling and knowing she probably wouldn't spend the money on herself.  She's since bought other bikes, but always keep the GN125.  As her phone is ringing, it dawns on me that it is Mothers Day.  How am I going to phrase this?
"Hi Mom.  Say, I'd like to borrow your sentimental favourite motorcycle, flog it near redline for sixteen hours straight and possibly blow it to smoldering bits somewhere in Canada.  Oh, by the way.  Happy Mother s Day."
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 33-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 04, 2013, 02:17:33 PM
By the time I've survived Detroit and crossed the state line into Ohio, night and my enthusiasm are falling rapidly.  On the fly, I reach out and try to adjust the aim of the Suzuki’s little five-inch headlight, but the effort is futile, and I learn to live with the anaemic yellow smudge of light in the roadway ahead as I roll through the dark, deer-infested woods and fields of northern Ohio, butt burning, shoulders knotted and aching.  It’s that time of evening when even the mental image of a sleeping bag in a tent on the hard ground hovers in the mind like a nirvana of feathery pillows and Loopers peer deep into the abyss of the soul and ask themselves the central questions of life, such as, "Does that valve clatter sound like its getting worse?" and "Why did I think this would be fun?" 
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 36-7
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 05, 2013, 10:57:49 AM
For me, one of the rarest and most coveted feelings on any motorcycle ride is the luxury of free time.  Typically, especially at home, my rides and trips are accompanied by a small black cloud that only I can see, a nagging feeling deep in the background of my mind that I soon need to be somewhere else, that someone is waiting for me, or that dawdling means neglecting other duties.  That afternoon at El Tajin was the turnaround point in my trip.  I had no farther to go that day, my hotel room for the night was already secured (the same one as the previous night), and nobody was expecting me to be anywhere else.  That alone, that opportunity to relax on a grassy slope among ancient monuments after a 2,000-mile dash southward, was among the most savoured parts of my afternoon amidst the ruins.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 47
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 06, 2013, 10:34:50 AM
I picked my way through the narrow city streets, trying not to lose the thread of the route leading toward Tamazunchale, trying not to lose the tires tenuous grip on the greasy wet pavement, until a young policeman halted all traffic at an intersection.  Sitting at the front of the line of stopped cars, I had a perfect view of a Christmas procession as locals on foot carried figures of saints to the church.  Plodding along in the drizzle, the procession was more mournful, or at least more respectful, than festive.  This is the difference that travel makes: On a trip back home, I'd be annoyed to be stopped because of a parade, fuming about where I needed to be.  Here, nearly two thousand miles from home, I was just pleased to have a front-row view.  That, for me at least, is the transforming magic of foreign surroundings.  The ordinary can become memorable, and even mundane tasks become learning experiences. An inconvenience becomes an opportunity to peer into other lives.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 48-9
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 07, 2013, 01:00:35 PM
The checkered flag is out for the session and I raise my left hand to signal that I'm coming into the pits.  The pit entrance at Mid-Ohio is curved and slightly downhill.  I'm leaning gently through that curve, left hand still off the grip, already in first gear and already thinking ahead to the next session, when I squeeze some front brake to slow down even more and... Wham! I'm on the ground! Worse yet, I'm lying in the grass with my feet higher than my head and the rear wheel of the Ducati pinning my right leg.  I'm splayed out on the ground with all the dignity of a deboned chicken, flopped helplessly in the grass for everyone to see as they ride into the pits, having just locked the front wheel and crashed.  In first gear.  At maybe 30 mph.  On the pit lane entrance.
In the history of motorcycle crashes, many have been worse, but few nave been more embarrassing.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 62-3
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Sicman on July 07, 2013, 06:46:03 PM
 >:()
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 08, 2013, 12:24:26 PM
Of all my bad riding habits, turning in early is one I constantly battle.  You'll never find a pro racer or a riding instructor who extols the virtues of an early apex, but anxiety gnaws at my patience and whispers in my ear, "turn now, turn now."  But with McWilliams' advice stuck in my mind like the word God (only with an Irish accent), I check my worst impulses and force myself to wait until my front wheel comes even with that orange cone before banking left.  Then, I plunge over the edge, like riding off the side of a building.  It was with this very moment in mind that I showed restraint at the morning breakfast buffet.  My guts rise to press against my lungs, the bike feels light, and any feelings of two-dimensional illusions are vaporized.  As I fall over the edge and finally get to see the track ahead of me, the importance of following McWilliams' advice is instantly obvious in a way that sears the information into my mind for all future laps.  If I had aimed the bike in the direction I would expect the track to go, if I had started my turn early and lined up for a sweeping curve like I'd expect to find on any other track, I'd be six feet into the gravel and dirt.  Instead, thanks to my strict adherence to McWilliams' recommended line, I'm still on the black as gravity sucks me downward a few stories while I shift from left lean to right lean.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 77-8
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 09, 2013, 10:36:34 AM
Strempfer launches into a story about the Benelli brothers having a spat back in the 1950s, with one of the brothers stomping off in a huff to build motorcycles called Motobis.  It all sounds very Italian.  As for mechanical particulars, he explains that a Motobi 125 is a four-stroke with a single, air- cooled, horizontal cylinder.  The five-speed gearbox is operated by a heel-toe shifter on the right side.  In reverse pattern.  The rear brake pedal is on the left side.  So I'm trying to get my mind around the concept of downshifting by pushing down with the heel of what I've always considered my braking foot when I realize, I really ought to test ride this thing before I'm expected to perform anything called an "ability test," or even mingle with unsuspecting Vermont traffic.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 97-8
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 10, 2013, 09:27:21 AM
In a lucky lifetime, I've been visit some spectacular capital-D Destinations, the manmade Schonbrunn Palace in Vienna, Glacier National Park in Montana, the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., and many other "sights."  And yes, I've also spent many an enjoyable afternoon in Manhattan, seen the Grand Canyon, and even survived a couple of visits to Vegas.  But just as vivid are memories of places that never make anyone's list of Destinations, anonymous little places such as San Vito, Costa Rica, or Nipigon, Ontario, Canada.  Usually, those memories stick with me because I not only visited a place, but through chance or planning, got a look into the lives of people who live there- people unlike myself- and learned something in the process.
Such was the case with my sojourn in Tuxpan. I can't describe for you, in any detail, the rooms of the Schonbrunn Palace, though I can assure you that all the ones I saw were opulently spectacular.  What I do remember, much better, is the look on the face of the woman rushing to find the T-shirt I wanted before I changed my mind, and how glad I was that I waited.  I remember a teenager washing laundry in Tuxpan while dreaming of making a living as a musician in the United States, and hundreds of children pulling homemade carritos (toy cars) through candlelit streets in memory of children who did not survive.  And most of all I remember the surprising magic of finding myself in the best place I could possibly be on that one night of the year, even though I didn't know enough to choose it on purpose.  Sometimes, it works out that way, and a simple motorcycle journey leaves lasting memories of a very human, if not historic, scale, from a place where nobody goes.  Something to consider the next time you're choosing a destination.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 110
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 11, 2013, 09:58:06 AM
Around one of those sweeping turns I find a faded 1976 Honda CB550 Four parked in a wide spot by the road, its owner crouched at its side.  I stop to see if I can provide assistance or, more likely, given my mechanical skills and the near absence of tools on the V-Strom, provide company and commiseration.  The rider tells me that he only recently pulled the old Honda out of storage and is still tracking down electrical problems, one of which has just left him at roadside.  While we examine fuses and poke at the thirty-year-old patina of corrosion on the ground wire, he asks me about my ride and I explain my northward course on Route 100 and my general lack of plans more detailed than that.  "You should ride Lincoln Gap," he advises.  "You won't believe it.  You just go up and up the mountain.  About that time, the Honda’s lights come back on, though its hard to say what we did to achieve that success.  I suspect it wont be his last search for wayward electrons in the old bike.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 121
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 12, 2013, 07:51:08 AM
I don t remember another specific detail about the ride my wife and I took that Sunday afternoon, but I still remember the old man telling his story.  It’s one of those quirks of humanity that define us.  We may love motorcycles with an enthusiasm severe enough to qualify us for a clinical study.  We may suffer an addict’s craving for the physical sensations of riding.  We see some of the earth's greatest sights on two wheels, and experience them more intensely because we ride to them.  Yet because we are human, the most memorable part of many a ride is neither the destination nor the journey, but some unexpected character met along the way.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 127
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 13, 2013, 09:05:02 AM
If you happen to own a motorcycle bearing the logo of one of the resurrected marques, such as the Triumph I often ride, you're guaranteed to have extra conversations on the road.  It happens to me time and again.  An older man approaches me at a gas station to exclaim, "I didn't know they were still in business!"  Then he tells me about the old Bonneville he had back in the day, and at some point his gaze drifts off to some unfocused place, and I can just hear him thinking, wondering, trying to remember why he ever sold that old motorcycle.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 128
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 14, 2013, 11:56:29 AM
Once I stopped for gas in upstate New York on a Suzuki V-Strom and the out-of-state license plate was enough to trigger the forty-something guy coming out of the convenience store to run over to me, ask cursorily where I was from, and then launch into an excited monologue about a cross-country motorcycle trip he took in his twenties, one of those life-altering experiences that's never forgotten, even though he'd hardly ridden since.  His tale didn't slow down long enough for me to get a word out, which was good, because the obvious question was one I didn't have the heart to ask: "Why did you stop?”  Why did that experience have to be just once-in-a-lifetime?  Maybe I was imagining it, but there seemed to be some sadness punctuating the end of his story of excitement, youth, and adventure.  He never really asked a word about where I was going, or why.  He was still running on the fumes of a ride that was twenty years in the rearview mirror and I had places to go that very same evening.  I rode away feeling a little sorry for him, I do occasionally for the men who tell me about long-lost Triumphs and Harleys and Indians, and I promised myself yet again not to travel down the road to regrets, if I can help it.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 128

(oops- thanks Neale.  Rectified now.  Both quotes from p128, which is what tripped me up.
Glad you like the excerpts.)
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Neale on July 14, 2013, 07:42:09 PM
Are you just checking if anyone reads these or don't you realise that you have duplicated? Enjoying the read immensely though.  :thumbs
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 15, 2013, 08:28:49 AM
I stop for stranded riders because I've been the beneficiary of kindness many times myself, and from all kinds of people, not just fellow riders.  There was the guy with the shop making customized campers who interrupted his work and drove several miles to fill his gas can for me when I foolishly ran out on the highway, or, when I was a college student travelling on a shoe-string budget, the family at the campground that set up their extra tent for me after someone stole some of my camping gear leaving me without shelter as a night-long rain moved in.  It sometimes seems to me that the farther from home, the better people treat me as a traveller and the more they go out of their way to help me out of a jam.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 130
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 16, 2013, 10:48:24 AM
I could be lots of places.  I could be riding in the Rockies or the Alps, and those places make great fodder for bragging about memorable motorcycle rides.  Or I could be riding some not-quite-two-lane past the silence of little country church graveyards where my ancestors lie, past the smell of hay drying in the sun, through the coolness that drifts from a deep fold of a shady country hollow, back through time, back through remembrance, pulled along by the motorcycle’s torque, which is another remembrance in itself.  And I could say, this feels right.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 146
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 17, 2013, 09:29:33 AM
But at eighteen, even the most precocious of us are slates still mostly blank.  And that was the age at which I stumbled into being a motorcyclist, without much planning, by buying a very used, non-descript, massively mass-produced bike with a questionable history (and probably paying too much for it), falling in love not so much with the machine, but with the world of sensations and experiences it opened to me.  In other words, pretty much the same old story. Millions of us did it.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 149
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 18, 2013, 09:37:45 AM
In 1973 the big lump of the Baby Boomer bulge was in young adulthood, prime motorcycling time.  At same time, the Japanese manufacturers were importing relatively inexpensive, easy-to-ride, far-more-reliable motorcycles by the thousands to meet the demand, while Harley-Davidson limped toward its darkest years and the once-mighty British motorcycle industry continued resolutely firing repeated rounds into its foot by building the same old thing, with engines guaranteed to leak oil and headlights likely to fail at the first sign of impending nightfall.  Millions of people in the United States at least gave motorcycles a try during that time and while many drifted off, some caught the addiction and never shook it.  And the one thing that absolutely all riders share is a memory, whether dim or vivid, clear-eyed or nostalgic, humorous or heart-warming or traumatic, of a first bike.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 150
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 19, 2013, 08:26:15 AM
And yet, as much as the world changes, some human sentiments come close to universal.  Home from college for the summer, I would park that utterly unremarkable CB360T in the garage of my parents’ house after coming in from a night-time ride and listen to the tick ticking of the old air-cooled engine as it dissipated its heat, the metals contracting into their resting places. I could detect the distinct burning smell of oil pooling on the hottest engine parts and the few last wisps of exhaust drifting from the twin exhaust pipes. I lingered in the garage, not wanting to go inside the house.  Sitting there, beside that cheap and practical machine few could covet, I savoured the ride, even if it was just an ordinary trip across town to a friend’s house, and I was, without knowing it, burning deep and lasting memories into a primal part of my brain.  The right combination of hot oil on hot metal can yank me back to those moments utterly unexpectedly, decades later.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 153-4
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 20, 2013, 11:41:34 AM
Now, I could be wrong, but I imagine little happened in Okeechobee, and I'm sure the bored pump jockey hadn't seen many motorcyclists ride up to the full-service pump.  His lack of experience nearly led to my demise.
Having filled the tank, he decided to run up the sale amount to the nearest half dollar, just as he always did, no doubt, with cars.  My little tank couldn't take it.  By the time he gave up, the tank was filled to the cap, and I set off down the loneliest stretch of Florida 710 in the hot sun.  Of course as that hot sun hit my stylish charcoal-coloured gas tank, the cool gasoline inside began to expand.  By the time I was out of town and rolling down the bowling alley- straight two-lane, gasoline was flowing freely out of the gas cap and streaming down the tank toward my crotch, where it threatened to drip onto the rear cylinder of the air-cooled V-twin engine.
Let me tell you, my mind was quite focused as I considered my equally unappealing options.  The thought of stopping by that desolate roadside led to visions of even more expanding gasoline flowing out and dripping all over the hot, air-cooled engine, threatening all-out conflagration.  The thought of continuing down the road led to images of becoming a rolling fire-ball with a freshly filled tank of fuel.  If external combustion did break out, which would be worse?  Abandoning the motorcycle at the first hint of ignition and tumbling down the pavement at speed, or having a fine imitation of a flame-thrower aimed at my most sensitive parts for the time it would take me to slow down and dismount?
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 161-2
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 21, 2013, 12:15:54 PM
In 1963, the huge U.S. firm Grey Advertising came up with what is now the most famous slogan in the history of the U.S. motorcycle industry: "You meet the nicest people on a Honda".  Not Hells Angels.  Not someone wearing grease-soaked jeans and poking at his motorcycle's points along the side of the road, hoping to get it running again.  Instead, magazine ads depicted housewives and families and a young couple dressed as if they were on their way to the country club on their fun little Honda 50.  Although most people in the United States were probably as far from the country club lifestyle as they were from the outlaw biker stereotype, it was easier to buy into the Honda image than the Hells Angels image. For one thing, it required less money and fewer tools. 
Along with thousands of inexpensive and reliable Japanese motorcycles that followed in the 1960s and 1970s, the Honda 50, with its quiet four-stroke engine, step-through scooter-like styling, centrifugal clutch (you could ride it even if you didn’t know how to operate a clutch) and unimposing presence offered an entirely new way to get into motorcycling.  The biggest generation of U.S. motorcyclists was born.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 165
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 22, 2013, 02:32:33 PM
Lots of women might have argued that my money would have been better spent on a first car than a second motorcycle, something a bit more appropriate for classier dates.  Or maybe better spent on those classier dates at better restaurants than the ones we frequented.  Or maybe better spent upgrading my minimalist wardrobe.  I'm sure, in fact, that those thoughts crossed her mind, but when I surprised her by picking her up on the Sportster for a short ride to a favoured but definitely un-fancy neighbourhood pizzeria, she shared my excitement about the new bike rather than questioning my good sense.  That's when my motorcycle helped me learn another lesson about her: that she accepted me for who I was and shared my joy, rather than trying to change me and my joys to match hers.
Now anyone who has spent any time on a Sportster knows that it's not the ideal two-up motorcycle.  So I repaid her trust and acceptance by fitting the Sportster with a more comfortable seat and a low backrest to make her feel more secure.  Later, she would admit that she knew I was serious about the relationship when I modified my motorcycle to make her happier.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 173-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 23, 2013, 08:36:45 AM
Of course, lust and style are no deeper than a shiny paint job.  To get beyond that initial attraction, you have to get to know someone.  Or something.  In this case, a two-wheeled something.  You learn to appreciate its positive attributes and live with its drawbacks.  Over the years, after you've come to know the motorcycle thoroughly and have relied on it thousands of times, it may come to feel like an old friend, one you're willing to forgive when it does let you down because so many times before it didn't.
The ideal lifelong relationship, with a human partner or a motorcycle, involves a little of all of that.  It starts with a spark of lust that soon deepens into love and then ages finely over the years into the best and most lasting friendship you’ve ever had.  At which point there's no longer any question of calling it off.  You're in it for the long haul, for better or worse.  Congratulations, you've bonded.  You may now kiss your ride.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 200
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 24, 2013, 11:01:13 AM
To someone reading this book ten years from now, this chapter may be the only part that isn't viewed as a quaint relic of a simpler past, a time when we rode motorcycles for fun with a naive confidence in an unending supply of cheap fuel to drive us.  Whether they're powered by gasoline, electricity, or something else, I'm optimistic enough to believe we can continue to have fun on motorcycles that are faster and more exhilarating than cars and still contribute to the solution, not the problem.  We can help influence public perceptions, so that motorcycles are seen as a sensible way to stretch out what oil is left, rather than noisy relics of a more primitive era that should be killed off as quickly as possible.
The future ride wont resemble the ride so far, but that doesn't mean it cant be a good one.
The Ride So Far  Lance Oliver p 218-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on July 24, 2013, 05:23:14 PM
"Sometimes it takes a whole tankful of fuel before you can think straight"
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 25, 2013, 09:38:38 AM
When the rhythm sets in, I don't feel like I'm sitting on top of a motorcycle. Instead, I feel that the machine is an extension of my body, endowing me with superhuman powers. The machine is an extension of my limbs, vesting my feet and hands with unimagined abilities.  Yehudi Menuhin once said that play ing the violin is like singing through your limbs.  I often think about that as I'm riding, and feel that I'm playing Beethoven's Fifth Symphony through the motorcycle.
With the help of earplugs and a good helmet, I fly quietly along just a few feet above the solid surface of the highway.  With a flick of my wrist I accelerate quickly around other vehicles.  I shift my weight imperceptibly and glide gracefully from one lane to another.  I negotiate curves nimbly and confidently, as if the motorcycle were attached to a rail.  I'm as agile as ahummingbird, negotiating my way around 18-wheelers, automobiles, and campers, noting the location and relative speed of every vehicle within my field of vision.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 15
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 26, 2013, 09:02:44 AM
Earlier in the year, Manny Sameiro had published an account on the Internet of the mistakes that resulted in his last place finish in the 1997 Iron Butt Rally.  Manny had whimsically titled his account "Against the Pavement," a title apparently inspired by my book “Against the Wind”.
After travelling from Chicago to Madawaska, Maine, during the first leg of the rally, Manny had mistakenly filled his motorcycle with diesel fuel.  He discovered the mistake, but replacing the fuel with gasoline, and cleaning the carburettors and fuel lines caused him to fall behind schedule.  In an effort to regain the hours lost, Manny pushed his motorcycle beyond its capabilities, lost control, and wrecked his bike.  He then purchased the only used motorcycle he could find in the small town of Houlton, Maine, a 1983 Honda VT500 Shadow.  Because of the delays he experienced, along with the 10,000 point penalty that was invoked for his having switched motorcycles, Manny finished the rally in last place.  I thought Manny deserved a lot of credit for overcoming such difficult obstacles to finish.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 61
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 27, 2013, 02:01:35 PM
Like Scott Ward, Jeffery Foster also wanted to perform an Iron Butt certification ride within my 7/49 ride.  Jeff had attempted a Bun Burner Gold ride the previous October, but fell short of his goal, taking 27 hours to complete the 1,500-mile ride.  Jeff admitted he hadn't been properly prepared for the cold weather he'd encountered, and he'd tarried too long warming up at rest stops.  Jeff had established two riding goals for 1998.  The first was to complete a Bun Burner Gold ride, and the second was to complete the IBA National Parks Tour, which required visiting 50 or more National Parks in at least 25 different states in one year.  A "passport" would have to be stamped at the visitor centre in each park.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 137
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 28, 2013, 11:52:09 AM
Before I announced plans for the 7/49, Pablo Garcia sent me an email complimenting me on "Against the Wind".  He was interested in pursuing endurance riding because of the amount of riding that he could accomplish in a limited time:
This will allow me to put a lot of effort into something I really love into a limited schedule.  In other words, I once suggested to my wife that I wanted to take about a year off and break the world record for the number of countries visited by motorcycle.  She promised that she would be nowhere in sight when I got back.  So as you can see, endurance riding can work for me.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 142
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Neale on July 28, 2013, 01:17:25 PM
I like this bloke Bill.  :crackup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 29, 2013, 08:35:16 AM
Norm had written:
I don't know about the rest of you, but I feel like I on that bike with him.  It may be personal to him, but I have made it personal to me.  I have followed his progress on his web pages in my waking hours at work and at home.  I rode to Texarkana to meet him at midnight on Tuesday, getting back home at 3:30 a.m. and at work for an 8:00 a.m. meeting, but I would do it again in a heartbeat.
Those of us fortunate to have shared a few brief moments with him as he is hopefully making history, will no doubt feel like we played a small, small part in helping and encouraging him.
In his response, Ira wrote:
It never ceases to amaze me, this Internet.  The line between cyber-reality and physical reality really gets cloudy sometimes.  It's having very-long-range scanners, knowing almost minute-by-minute where Ron is and how he's doing.  At the checkpoint, Ron mentioned the repair Paul Glaves made to the turn signal.  Yup, heard about it.  The big lightning storm that had him sidelined for a while?  That, too.  Indeed, it is riding along in the most vicarious way, and once in a while weaving between the cyber and the physical.  And to dream the ride Ron is taking.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 155-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 30, 2013, 08:29:22 AM
I knew the script.  But late this rainy night in Nevada, I was disregarding my own dictum about stopping when too tired to ride safely.  I was pushing the edge of the envelope and it was bulging at the seams, threatening to tear.  I didn't like doing this, but I didn't know what else to do.
Route 93 between Ely and Wendover has always been one of my favourite roads.  Every time I've ridden it, I've felt there is something mystical about it.  Riding the road has always made me think how fortunate I am to have discovered motorcycling and especially to have discovered endurance riding.  I once told Barbara that if the sport killed me, I'd like to be cremated and have my ashes cast to the wind by a motorcyclist riding 100 mph on that route, from a spot overlooking the Great Salt Lake Desert in neighbouring Utah.  How ironic that I was pushing my limits on the one highway, of all the highways in the world, where I had talked of having my ashes spread.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 161
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 31, 2013, 09:43:48 AM
Despite my fears, I fell asleep immediately and was awakened 90 minutes later by the Screaming Meanie.  I felt very stiff as I attempted to rise from the bench, chalked it up to age, and limped toward my motorcycle.  As tired as I was, when I approached the motorcycle, I was struck by the sheer beauty of the vehicle.  It reminded me of the excitement I often feel when I walk into the garage after not having ridden for a while.  At such times I wonder how I can love the sight of a machine so much.  And then I remember that it's not just the machine, but the notion of adventure and excitement the vehicle invokes.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 194-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 01, 2013, 09:01:17 AM
When we were about 45 miles from Edmonton, a deer suddenly appeared directly in front of the motorcycle.  We didn't see it until it was directly in front of us, as it was running at full speed across the road from heavy brush.  There was no time to brake or to swerve to avoid hitting it.  We were travelling about 60 mph when the impact occurred. 
We expected the motorcycle to go down.  My first thought after the impact was, "Is Barbara still on the bike?"
As the bike wobbled and began to lose stability, a conversation that I had with Steve Losofsky a few months before flashed through my mind.
The original owner of Reno BMW, Steve was an experienced flat-track racer and an expert rider.  While on his way back to Nevada from a trip to Daytona Bike Week, Steve was our house guest.  He told us that while riding to Texas in a construction zone in heavy rain, his motorcycle slipped into a rut caused by two adjacent uneven lanes.  His motorcycle began to shimmy and he worried about losing control.  "Reverting to my old racing days, I gave the bike full throttle," Steve related.  "I remembered that in a lot of situations, blasting through with maximum acceleration is better than slowing down.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 215-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 02, 2013, 09:51:50 AM
When I hit the deer, the conversation flashed into my mind immediately.  I remembered Steve standing at our kitchen counter, laughing and motioning with an exaggerated twist of his wrist and upper torso to emphasize how he managed to regain control of his motorcycle.
I cranked the accelerator fully open.  After a moment, the bike stabilized and I slowed down and pulled to the side of the road.  "Thank you, Steve Losofsky," I thought.  "Thank you very much."
I brought the motorcycle to a stop about a tenth of a mile from the point of impact.  "Oh the poor deer," Barbara lamented.  "Do you think we killed it? What if it's just injured and suffering?” 
I couldn't help but ask, "Do you have any idea just how lucky we are?"
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 216
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 03, 2013, 07:02:55 AM
I've never been convinced one way or the other about the effectiveness of deer whistles.  But the only time I've struck a deer is also the only time I've ridden without them.  I had intended to place a set of whistles of the type Jan Cutler at Reno BMW advocates, but hadn't gotten around to it before the ride. I don't intend to ride without them again.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 217
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 04, 2013, 06:02:45 PM
There was a shallow trench running parallel to each side of the highway.  Recalling that it's safer to be in a depression in the event of a tornado, I headed for the trench.  The wind at my back, I fought against it to resist being blown into the trench.
The storm raged as I sat in the gully in full riding gear.  I got down as low as I could without entering the rising water.  At least I knew I would be able to survive anything short of a tornado.  I jumped, startled once again at the sound of a close thunderclap and brightness all around.  I could smell ozone in the air.  A shudder of fear enveloped my body, from head to toe.
"What is there to be afraid of?" I thought.  "The chances of being struck by lightning are probably infinitesimal now that safely away from the motorcycle.  And I'm not going to get any wetter by sitting here."
I tried to find humour in the situation.  Sometimes I amaze myself when forced to acknowledge that in some bizarre way, I enjoy circumstances such as this.  I enjoy every phenomenon nature proffers, including the fury and severity of her storms.  They're an important part of a totality that I don't like to avoid. I'd have missed something important if I'd remained in Augusta while the storm passed.  I'd have missed the excitement. I'd have missed the purity and genuineness of this magnificent event.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 221
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Sicman on August 04, 2013, 06:15:51 PM
I have never heard a motorcycle make a quote now I come to think about it  :wink1 :grin let alone a quote of the day :whistle :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 05, 2013, 08:53:14 AM
I hit the switch to insure that my heated handgrips were turned to the highest setting, then plugged in my electric vest.  I turned the bike around and continued south.  I've learned that electric heat can stave off discomfort when you're wet, provided you get settled into a position and don't shift around.  You're still wet, but at least you're being warmed by moisture that's been heated by the electrics.  But if you shift your body around at all and disturb the "cling" that's sticking your wet clothes to your body, you'll suffer an immediate chill until you've settled down again.
The same goes for gloves.  As long as you maintain a constant pressure and position on the handlebars, the heated grips will keep your hands warm and comfortable, even when you're wet.  But remove your hands from the grips to adjust something, and they'll be chilled for a while.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 224
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 06, 2013, 08:40:56 AM
After a few miles, the shoulder of the road turned white, where the hail hadn't yet melted.  A little further, the road, too, turned white and I concentrated on keeping my tires in the black section of the road where the tires of other vehicles had cleared the ice.  I had never before seen such vivid evidence of a hailstorm.  I was fortunate to have stopped when I did, rather than to have continued into what apparently was much more severe weather than I had experienced.  As I cautiously negotiated my way through the slick, hail-strewn highway, I thought about the incredible good fortune enjoyed in my ten-year riding career.  I wondered if God doesn't have a soft spot in his heart for motorcyclists.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 224-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 07, 2013, 09:18:48 AM
Entering a small valley west of Hwy 97,I recall that midday sun had changed the shadows of the trees lining the road.  A few minutes later I would be cresting the hill ahead.  I recall, too, there was a slight colour shift as if someone turned the intensity knob on the surrounding scenery.  Then it happened, an experience that would alter forever my perception the symbiosis of man, machine, and life in general.
As if in a dream, I hovered briefly high above the Beemer looking directly down on the rider- me! There was no feeling of fear or disorientation, in fact, the unusual part of the episode was that it felt calming and natural.  Ahead, over the rise, I could see from my vantage point above the bike that a logging truck had overturned, scattering its load along the road.  It hadn't come to a rest yet; the truck was on its right side, sliding, while disgorging logs in all directions.  Then I was back on the bike, ascending the grade and approaching the crest.
Immediately, I slowed and shifted down to 4th, 3rd 2nd in rapid succession.  I crested the hill and still had to brake to avoid a log that was crosswise in the middle of my lane.  There was no path around the obstacles, the shoulder was blocked, and both lanes were impassable.  The driver of the truck was pulling himself out of the cab- the accident had happened a moment before I arrived.  The driver had minor injuries and was concerned about getting flares out to warn approaching drivers, which we did immediately.  He marvelled that I avoided hitting the logs.  I was still sorting it out .
All manner of conjecture and explanations have been offered.  ESP, clairvoyance, good vibrations, a figment a fatigued mind- I reject none of these out of hand, they may all be part of it.  I only know what occurred and I can add that similar things have happened since, although not as dramatic.  And, they have occurred under similar circumstances.
The motorcycle is probably just another door amongst experience the other side.  Yet in this scenario it was experience the other side.  Yet in this scenario it was me, a beloved machine, and a blissful ride that opened my perception to wider possibilities and lead write these lines:
Questions, so many questions
And in their answering
The awesome suggestions
Of more and better questions.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 225-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 08, 2013, 07:49:07 AM
As I crossed the border, entered Wyoming, and began climb toward Teton Pass, I was overcome with an extraordinary I sense of happiness and serenity.  I welcomed the chilly mountain air and the solitude the ride provided.  I celebrated each twist and turn in the highway as I shifted my weight and altered pressure on the handlebars.  It was just after midnight and the PIAA driving lights had been blazing brightly for a half-hour, illuminating the mountain road and mitigating the dangers of riding such a road at high speed at night.  I increased my speed and leaned into the sharp curves, riding more aggressively than at any time since approaching Alaska three weeks earlier.
As my speed and altitude rose, so too, did my spirits. I opened the throttle even more, clearly challenged now by the twists and turns as I was propelled toward the top of the mountain.  I wanted to race to the summit as quickly as I could, then stop to smell the roses.  I had been rushing since leaving Edmonton.  I wanted to indulge in private, quiet thoughts, totally undisturbed high in these majestic mountains.  I wanted to reflect on how my abundant treasure of experiences had been multiplied by the events of the last several weeks.  As the motorcycle catapulted me toward the peak, there were signs warning that stopping is forbidden.  At the summit, there's an area for trucks to stop to test their brakes before descending the steep downgrade ahead.  I glanced up and was astounded at the brightness and clarity of the stars.  I pulled to the side of the road, into the brake test area.  I didn't, want this opportunity to look at the stars right then and there.
I removed my gloves and helmet and looked at the heavens.  The sky never looked brighter or more beautiful. The magnificent motionless Milky Way flowed silently toward the southern sky like a pearly, opalescent river.  Scorpio was in full view, with Antares, the "Fourth of July Star", twinkling red at the heart of the constellation, the most prominent star in the southern sky.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 229-230
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ST2UP on August 08, 2013, 09:56:57 AM
That was an inspiring account of a mountan ride...... :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 09, 2013, 12:06:17 PM
I'm very fortunate for Barbara's attitude.  I've asked her to summarize it.

I would be devastated if anything ever happened to Ron, but this doesn't preclude me from respecting his right to decide for himself what kind of risks he wants to take, or what level of adventure he wants in his life.  If it would make me happier if he gave up riding, but would diminish his happiness, on what basis could I decide that my happiness is more important than his?  Also, I want him to be the person he is.  My favourite quote sums this up: "Never destroy any aspect of personality, for what you think is the wild branch may the heart of the tree"
I worry a lot and I pray a lot when Ron is on a long ride, but I also believe in fate.  As human beings, we give ourselves too much credit for being able to control things.  Ron acknowledges that being on a motorcycle is more dangerous than being at home in an easy chair, but if something bad is going to happen, it can happen even if you are doing something completely routine and safe. What is meant to be, will be.
On the positive side, I've been a beneficiary of Ron's sport.  I've met some of the most interesting, original, and colourful characters of my life.  Ron has made some very good friends who have demonstrated they would do anything for him.  I wouldn’t trade this for anything.
Against The Clock  Ron Ayers p 243
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 10, 2013, 10:35:49 AM
"Over the years we have slowed down because it's not just about the riding," Lisa says who, teamed with Simon, has ridden 460,000km on the trip so far, breaking the record which previously set at 162,000km.  It’s the stopping and meeting - we've had such wonderful experiences when we least expected them.  Like waking up in the morning on a Mongolian mountain and being distracted by a sound, only to realise it's some old Mongolian riding bare back on a pony.
"So you offer him some tea and he squats down, wearing the fur of the Mongol empire.  But it's black tea and he doesn't like it, and spits it out (laughs).
The nomadic lifestyle of the two may strike you as extreme and by all accounts it is.  They live off the smell of an oily rag, joining the dots financially while joining the dots on an atlas.  Over the years they have learned to benefit in various ways from what they are doing.
Free Wheeling Magazine #1. p34
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 11, 2013, 12:31:55 PM
Simon and Lisa are a resourceful pair, but this story about finding tyres in the most unlikely of places is a ripper.

"We came through Mongolia, Kazakhstan, back into Central Russia, Kurdistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Iran and by the time we got to Islamabad over the Silk Road we'd spent the last month wondering what we are going to do about tyres,

Simon says. "The white on each front and rear tyre was coming through, and there was nobody, anywhere, that could give us tyres.  We were screwed.
"We got on the internet forums, asking anyone out there for help, and amazingly we got a post saying, "this may be of no use to you, but we were in Islamabad and we changed our tyres.  We took the old ones off that were in a pretty bad way, and where we were camped there was a rubbish tip next door, so we threw them over the fence.  They should be there.
 
"So he gave us the GPS point from where he was camped, we found it, worked out where the tyres would have been thrown, and located them.  We had new tyres; they were the right size, a bit sun damaged, but better than what we had.  That got us all the way through Pakistan and India.  The tyres were covered in shit and slime, and the stench was just terrible, but you do what you have to do.  The first new set of tyres since was when we turned up in Australia." 
Free Wheeling Magazine #1. p36
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 12, 2013, 01:05:42 PM
Simon and Lisa are more qualified than anyone to give you pointers on a successful distance adventure ride. Here are their top five essentials, some might surprise you.

Multi-fuel stove:  "It's basically a mountaineering stove," Lisa says.  "Our one is made by MSR, called a Dragon Fly.  It packs small, but most importantly can burn any fuel.  Unleaded, diesel, even vodka.  If you have a quick release connector on your petrol tank, you can cook.  If it's a constant heat, you can re-heat food.  But if you can adjust the flame, you can cook.  If you have crap water, you can boil it. If you have snow, you can melt it.  Having clean water is vital."

Flexibility:  "A degree of flexibility is essential, " Simon says.  "Your adventure really starts when all your plans have turned to shit.  It's often when you meet the best people.  Take your expectations,  put them one side, then the journey really begins.  Expectations are purely there to disappoint you."

Confidence:  "You must have a genuine and founded self belief, and ability to problem solve,"  Simon says.  "A lot of people are amazed at some of the problems we have been able to overcome, and presume we had these skills prior to departure - not so.  If you have that level of self belief and confidence, there's very little you cannot do.

Camera:  "Take the biggest and best camera you can find.  At the end of the trip you have memories and photographs," Simon says.  "Be enthusiastic and creative, and learn about your camera.  You want to share those images with clarity.  These days there are great cameras for very little.

A good riding partner:  "It sounds cliched, but a really good riding partner makes a trip," says Simon.  “An awesome experience shared is worth double than if you were on your own.”
Free Wheeling Magazine #1. p37
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 13, 2013, 09:22:54 AM
It's late on a blazingly hot Sunday afternoon as I take shelter with Austin in the cool air-con of the local chicken shop.  It only takes a couple of sips of his Passiona to see Austin's intense belief in the everyman doing the extraordinary bubble to the surface.
"You have these people that put themselves on television, and in their minds they think they are doing something incredible; it's painful, and they get away with it!... Meanwhile the really cool people are being ignored," he says.
Maybe it's the heat, but at that moment a classic Hunter S. Thompson quote completely engulfs ini my thinking:  "The Edge, there is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over."  Is this their intent, to try to explain that true adventure is possible for the everyman, to show us 'the edge' isn't as far away as we'd been led to believe?
Free Wheeling Magazine #1. p54
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 14, 2013, 10:47:47 AM
When my mood gets too hot and I find myself wandering beyond control I pull out my motor-bike and hurl it top-speed through these unfit roads for hour after hour.  My nerves are jaded and gone near dead, so that nothing less than hours of voluntary danger will prick them into life.
T. E Lawrence in She's A Bad Motorcycle frontispiece
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 15, 2013, 10:43:02 AM
Riding on the back of a friend's bike through southern Germany's excessive picturesqueness, I took in the passing sights secure in the knowledge that he was as able a rider as they make.  We took the turns at a good lean, overcoming an instinctual fear to emerge into the pleasure of having done so. Then a light drizzle started washing the streets to a gleam, and everything changed.  My seat noticed it first, a slight side-to- side motion that I almost thought was in my head.  When we stopped, I asked if I had in fact felt something, and my friend just looked pale in response.  So I mounted up behind another member of the party, whose experience was equal but whose rear tire was less bald. Confidence returned, even though the rain now fell in hard sheets.  The beer at lunch I allowed myself as consolation for being a mere passenger was having its effect under the canopy of trees. The next thing I knew my hands thrust themselves into the air.  Every sinew pulled itself tight.  In a flash the seat had gone out from under me, shimmied curtly side to side to side.  Then a second it was over, arid we were going on as before.  Who knows?  It could have been a bit of patched paving, slippery tar, some chameleon oil behind the sheen of wet.
Melissa Pierson in She's A Bad Motorcycle p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 16, 2013, 08:31:26 AM
The small glow emanating from the lighted dials is a portable beacon that remains both ahead and calmly with you.  The sight of the instrument panel's little light in the greater dark puts me in mind of a tiny spaceship floating on its way through a benighted universe of unfathomed spread.  The headlight glances off the slick leaves at the edge of the road, and what is beyond that quick beam waits there for you to arrive upon it and briefly launch it into existence before consigning it back to what is behind in the black.
Melissa Pierson in She's A Bad Motorcycle p4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 17, 2013, 09:05:30 AM
But Hell's Angels started riding Harley-Davidsons mostly because, unlike today, they didn't have much choice.  In 1957, it was either ride a Harley or settle for a Triumph or BSA.  They'd already stopped building Indians.  It’s always been important for Hell's Angels to ride American-made machines.  In terms of pure workmanship, personally I don't like Harleys.  I ride them because I'm in the club, and that's the image, but if I could, I would seriously consider riding a Honda ST1100 or a BMW.  We really missed the boat not switching over to the Japanese models when they began building bigger bikes.  I'll usually say, "%^@# Harley-Davidson.  You can buy an ST1100 and it will do 110 miles per hour right from the factory all day long."  The newest "rice rockets" can carry 140 horsepower to the rear wheel, and easily do 180 miles per hour right out of the box.  While its probably too late to switch over now, it would have been a nice move, because Japanese bikes today are so much cheaper and better built.  However,  Japanese motorcycles don't have as much personality.
Sonny Barger in She's A Bad Motorcycle p35
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Neale on August 18, 2013, 08:04:29 AM
Wise and logical words from a Harley pilot. Go figure.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ST2UP on August 18, 2013, 08:16:32 AM
Wise and logical words from a Harley pilot. Go figure.

I had to read it twice....thought i missed somthing  :eek

 :crackup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 18, 2013, 04:54:34 PM
I had drifted into the Pagans earlier that Spring.  I had sold my car and bought a motorcycle.  A 650 cubic centimeter Triumph.  Harley- Davidson is forever associated with the outlaw image.  And for good reason.  When you saw a pack of outlaws most of them were riding Hogs.  But the truth is that if you rode a Harley you needed a car.  Hogs broke down a lot, and they were hell on wet ground or snow.
The Triumph and BSA (that's pronounced Beeser) started in all weather.  The front ends were the best ever made.  You could even ride them on snow and ice.  Just put your feet down and glide along slow.  If rear wheel went sideways, you could catch your balance with your feet and straighten the bike out.  Try this with a hog, and you broke your leg.  But best of all the Triumph and BSA were also designed for off-road use.  If a cop was chasing you down the back roads of Berks County, you could take off through a cornfield.  You could never get away with that on a hog.
I rode through the winter.  And I froze.  On weekends my Triumph was the only bike parked outside the Gaslight East on Hempstead Turnpike.  In the summer the place was a motorcycle hangout with fifty bikes lined up in the street.  But in the winter these guys travelled by car.  They weren't outlaws.
John Hall in She's A Bad Motorcycle p177
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 19, 2013, 08:49:52 AM
I am a man, in a time when it has become anachronistic to be masculine, I am a man.
It's my fifty-seventh birthday and I have heart disease.
It had not and has not yet killed me and to my great surprise I am somehow two years older than Columbus was when he died. Twenty-two years older than Mozart.
I have accomplished more than I ever thought I would.  Certainly more - considering the rough edges of my life - than I deserve to have accomplished.  My children are through college and launched, my wife is set for life, and yet.

And yet.  Just that.  An unsettling thought, like a burr under a saddle, rubbing incessantly until at last it galls and still it was and is there...
There had been a time when I was content.  Not completely, and only briefly, but at least enough to settle, to accept, to live - shudder - within an accepted parameter.  Then it changed and in the change I learned a fundamental truth about myself; I saw a weakness that was a strength at the same time.

It is very strange what saves a man.
I had a friend caught in the blind throes of bottom-drinking alcoholism who was going to kill himself, had the barrel of the .357 in his mouth and the hammer back and pressure on the trigger, ready to go out when he saw a spider weaving a web and became interested in it and forgot why he wanted to kill himself.  Another friend, a soldier, was saved on a night patrol in Korea because Chinese soldiers ate raw garlic and he smelled them coming and hid.  As I drove into Mankato, there was a Harley dealer, and that dealer saved me as sure as if it had been a spider or garlic.
Gary Paulsen in She's A Bad Motorcycle p181-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 20, 2013, 09:13:37 AM
"I'll buy it." It was out before I thought.  I couldn't stop it.  Years of waiting were in back of it, a frustration-powered blurt.  "Now."
"I don't know how much the boss is asking for it."
"Go find out."  He left but I stayed with the bike until he came back.  "Nineteen" he said.  "Nineteen thousand plus tax and license.
I nodded.  "Done."  And then I thought of the first place we'd bought when we went north to live in the bush and run dogs; the whole farm, eighty acres and buildings, cost less than this bike.  We lived then on two thousand dollars a year and all the beaver and venison we could eat.  We could have lived for nearly ten years on what this Harley was costing. 
"Half an hour," the mechanic said, smiling like a drunk who has met somebody to drink with.  "Just have to check her out."
Gary Paulsen in She's A Bad Motorcycle p187
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 21, 2013, 09:32:10 AM
I felt strange but in some way whole.  It was like an extension of my body, and I cradled down in blue steel and leather and chrome and sat that way for a time, perhaps a full minute, and let the bike become part of me.  I know how that sounds but it was true.  I would meet hundreds of men and tour women who owned Harleys and they all said the same - that the bike became an extension, took them, held them.  This is one hell of a long way, I thought, from clothes pegging playing cards on the fork of a bicycle to get the sound of a motor when the spokes clipped them, but it had all started then.  The track from that first rattling-slap noise in the spokes led inevitably to here, to me sitting on Harley, sure and straight as any law in physics.
I turned the key, reached down and pulled the choke out to half a click, made sure the bike was in neutral, took a breath and let it half out, like shooting an M1 on the range.  Then I touched the starter button with my thumb.
Gary Paulsen in She's A Bad Motorcycle p189
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 22, 2013, 09:15:52 AM
If you have a Harley, there ain't a damn thing wrong with you unless you're a blatant asshole.  But even if you are an asshole, a Harley can personality spackle in that it will cover over any deficiencies.  That's why balding midlife crisis boys get them.
Sadly enough, Harleys are usually the bikes you see broken down on the side of the road.  I think they're better for riding around your block and showing off like a mating bird, but I don't know how far I'd wanna go.  A whole lotta myth, and not known for being reliable.  But you won't have to tap on people's shoulders and tell them how cool you are, because a Harley will do it for you.  Once you get a Harley you don't even need a relationship.
Erica Lopez in She's A Bad Motorcycle p235
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 23, 2013, 08:48:36 AM
Later that afternoon I had my first riding scare of the trip.  The extremely high temperatures all day had softened the road tar in Holbrook, Arizona to a consistency where my front tire began to pick up wet tar and sling it up under the fender.  The road surface actually got slippery and I a/most lost control of the bike a few times right in town.  The sticky tire would pick up gravel and sand that gradually built up on the wheel like a snowball rolling downhill.  It built up to where the front wheel began to scrape and bind against the inside of the fender.  I managed to get through town without mishap, but the tar stayed under the fender for several days and the clearance was reduced to almost nothing.  For days every time the tire picked up even the smallest stone it would rip loudly through the close clearance and the wheel would bind a little.  That night I had tar on the engine, the windshield, the tank, my shoes, and even on my face.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 24, 2013, 04:48:50 PM
In that next 161 miles I didn't see a house, a car, or even a sign that anyone had ever been there, except that someone must have built the narrow dirt road and the small single-lane wooden bridges across the many brooks and white-water streams.  Several hours I enjoyed total solitude.   I was able to maintain between 50 and 55 MPH most of the way.  I stopped at some the most beautiful spots, shut off the engine, put the bike on the center stand in the middle of the road, and I proceeded to oil the chain.  There were no sounds at all.  I would look around for several minutes admiring the incredible beauty and serenity 0f it all.   The dark-blue lakes reflected a mirror image of the evergreen trees and snowcapped mountains in the background.  The lakes were so clear I could see pebbles very clearly through several feet of water.   I took many photos and regretted not having brought a better camera.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p26
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 25, 2013, 04:00:28 PM
Quote
Now who's repeating themselves???  :wink1

Sorry folks, my system broke down.

When I stopped for gas at Jake's Corner, I saw a sign at the pump, "Do not operate pump yourself."  Another sign said, "Free ice cream with fill-up."  Jake didn't come out right away but I figured if I ignored the first sign and pumped my own gas he'd probably get mad and I wouldn't get the free ice cream.  He looked annoyed when he finally did come out and he said gruffly, "Whadda you want?"  He was a big, burly guy with long red hair and a big red handlebar mustache.  When I said I wanted a fill-up he jerked the nozzle from the pump and jammed it hard into my already open tank with a single sweeping motion.  He put only about three gallons in the tank, which didn't quite fill it.  As he was hanging the nozz/e back on the pump I asked if he would please top off my tank.  He answered gruffly, "You're full!" and he put his hand out for the money.  He scowled when I handed him a credit card because he had to walk back to the office to get the imprint and it was uphill all the way, with some steps included.  After signing the receipt I asked politely if I could have my free ice cream now.  He stood for a few moments glaring at me but finally he walked back up into the office a second time for the tiny cone.  He returned and handed it over very begrudgingly.  I smiled and said, "Thank you."
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 26, 2013, 01:19:41 PM
That night I adjusted the spokes for the first time and the chain for the third time.  About ten spokes on the rear wheel and four on the front were quite loose.  The rear tire was totally bald and almost showing its casing.  I noticed several deep rock cuts that did reach the casing.  Whitehorse was now my only hope for a fresh tire since none were available in Dawson City.
Day 19 - The weather was perfect when I left Dawson at 9 AM.  I definitely had to forego earlier plans of a ride up the Dempster Highway due to the condition of the tire.  I learned that the Dempster was completed to just beyond the Arctic Circle at Mile 245.  Gas was available at two maintenance camps - at Miles 129 and 231.  My problem now was getting to Whitehorse 355 miles of rough dirt road away.  I spent a nerve-wracking day dodging millions of sharp stones on the Klondike Highway.  I tried not to think about how much I might get torn up if the tire blew and I came into contact with some of the sharp stones in the road at that speed.  I kept pushing between 60 and 65 MPH though, because I was worried that the cycle shop, if there was one, might close before I got there.  That evening I found a sports shop and bought the only 400X18 motorcycle tire they had which was a soft-composition Yokohama sport tire.  I changed it that night outside my hotel.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p40-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 27, 2013, 09:02:14 AM
I stopped at a McDonald's for a midmorning snack although I also snacked on peanuts while I was moving.  I would put both feet up on the highway pegs and hold the jar between my knees to remove the cap.  I could then drink the peanuts from the jar as I rode along.  I couldn't possibly take both hands off the handlebars at the same time because the front end of the bike would immediately start to wobble and shimmy no matter what speed I was travelling, which was due in large part to the poor weight distribution.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p53
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 28, 2013, 09:42:19 AM
At around Mile 200 I was surprised to see headlights in my rear view mirror through the snow and dense fog.  I was struggling with both feet down at the time and travelling less than 10 MPH.  He didn't close the gap very fast but eventually he came up alongside and we both stopped.  It was the maintenance superintendent from Eagle Plains in a VW bug.  He said he had been trying to figure out what was making those strange tracks.  He said he would see three tracks, then sometimes two, occasionally only one.  He laughed and said, "Mostly three."  He asked if I was OK.  I responded by asking how far it was to Eagle Plains.  He said, "Maybe another 30 miles."  I answered, "Oh hell.  I guess if I've come this far, I can make another 30 miles, as long as it doesn't get much worse."  He said if I were not in within an hour or so from the time he gets in, he'd send help.  He wished me good luck and slowly moved away with his wheels churning in the mud.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p65
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 29, 2013, 08:35:34 AM
I was totally dispirited and somewhat depressed that morning as I climbed into the Canadian Rockies in heavy rain and very dark overcast.  I was actually wondering if God was still with me.  It seemed as though I was having such a terrible time of it with the foul weather and horrible road conditions on this trip.  Suddenly a perfectly round opening appeared directly overhead in the otherwise dark overcast and rain.  The opening was the size of a football field, exposing a bright blue sky.  It was still raining and dark everywhere else, except directly over my head.  The hole seemed to get larger as it followed me for almost a mile up the road, drenching me with warm sunshine I was awestruck, as I took it as a reply from God.  Then just as suddenly the huge gap closed, it got dark again, and the rain and darkness returned.  I was alone on the road at the time and no one saw it but me.  I was really shaken and I broke down and cried.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p80
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 30, 2013, 11:15:46 AM
I also learned early on the trip when not to use my cruise control, which I had been experimenting with on my new machine.  Sometimes while travelling on straight roads I would set the cruise control at a comfortable speed; and later after having ridden several miles with it on, I would forget about it.  Once in West Virginia as I approached a fairly tight turn I got well into the turn to the crucial point where the side almost touches the road and suddenly the cruise control decided that I needed a healthy application of throttle.  It was pretty scary.  That's when I stopped messing with it.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p104
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 31, 2013, 09:57:49 AM
Just before pulling up to a traffic light near Carrnel our four-lane detour, I noticed a young guy in a car behind us hanging out of the driver's window screaming obscenities. jumped out at the light and ran toward me, yelling and using the foulest language imaginable at the top of his lungs.  He kept getting angrier and louder as he screamed something about my cutting him off.  It was a real bad scene at the crowded intersection.  I couldn't remember what I had done to bring on his tirade.  I figured the best thing to do was to calmly say I was sorry; but that only seemed to enrage him even more, and I thought at any moment he was going to take a swing.  I was wearing an open-face helmet with both hands on the controls and Lilli was on the back.  I felt if I were alone at the time and 40 or even 20 years younger, to quote the famous mayor of Carmel, he would have "made my day."
After we got out of there, I asked Bud what I had done.  He said, "Nothing.  Didn't you see his eyes? He was strung out on something."  I was watching his hands more than his eyes.  I recalled reading about California motorists who had been shot in similar confrontations.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p116
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 01, 2013, 12:01:28 PM
From Atascadero we headed east on a road that I thought was our route; but about a mile out of town the road I took a sudden left turn without warning, and we charged straight ahead onto some soft dirt.  It took almost two hundred feet to stop.  Realizing that a road without signs couldn't possibly be the state highway, we went back into town to find the right road.
It led us through several miles of tight curves and some of the strangest terrain I had ever seen.  It twisted and turned through miles of high grassy mounds and ridges.  There was a sign at the end saying that late movie idol James Dean, who loved to manoeuvre his Porche along that road, was killed in a high-speed car crash near there.  Later we saw another mile-wide strip of the same odd terrain extending north and south for many miles, and we learned that it was the San Andreas Fault line.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p117
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 02, 2013, 09:20:59 AM
I think the "turnout law" in California is a great idea, but all drivers don't observe it.  The law apparently says it's unlawful to delay five or more vehicles on two-lane roads.  Several times we were crawling along in a string of more than a dozen cars, campers and trailers for miles, led by someone moving at a snail's pace.  Turnout areas are provided for slow vehicles to pull over so others can pass, but it doesn't always happen.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p118
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 03, 2013, 09:19:16 AM
The Morenci mine near Clifton is one largest open-pit copper mines in the world.  Billions of tons of ore have been extracted from Morenci, which is still an active mine.  Trains that haul copper ore from the mine look so small you have to look carefully to spot them, even through binoculars, as they move around in the tremendous pit.  US Route 666 from Morenci to Alpine has more turns and tight switchback curves than any road I have ever travelled.  We noticed one S-curve sign in the mountains that said "10 MPH - Next 6 Miles."
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p123
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 04, 2013, 10:36:55 AM
Near the top I met a four-wheel-drive pickup coming toward me on a very narrow section of the road.  It was the only vehicle I met going in either direction.   I figured I could probably back down a little easier than he could back up the hill, due to poor traction on the loose stones.  Holding my front brake as it occasionally skidded, I backed down very slowly for about 50 feet to a shoulder on the cliff-side of the road.  I had to lean the bike toward the edge so his side mirror wouldn't hit my arm the way by.  I could see down the scary edge of the cliff again between my forearm and my leg.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p138
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 05, 2013, 10:39:10 AM
I almost lost the bike [a GL1200 Goldwing] when I stopped on a steep incline at the cemetery gate and the front brake wouldn't hold on the loose gravel.  We were on the bike together as it slid backwards down the hill faster and faster with the front wheel locked and dragging all the way.  I managed to hold it upright with both feet also skidding backwards.  The bike finally stopped without falling over, which seemed like a small miracle on the rutted, washed out terrain.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p155
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 06, 2013, 08:43:59 AM
The sun came out after lunchtime and it was nice enough except for a strong head wind that cut my gas mileage considerably.  I came up behind an older 1100 cc Gold Wing travelling in the same direction.  I was doing about 10 miles over the speed limit and was about to pass him when I noticed it was a cop on a motorcycle.  I followed him for several miles until he turned off.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p204
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 07, 2013, 02:54:42 PM
That afternoon I came upon the largest Tramo Peligroso sign of my trip.  It was before the first of three ominous-looking temporary pipe bridges I had to cross. The bridge was made up of several long, eight-inch-diameter steel pipes, laid across the span.  Several pipes were used for each wheel track.  When heavy trucks or buses crossed very slowly, the pipes would bend under their weight.  I chose two pipes that were butted fairly close together to ride between and I kept both feet down for security.  It was tricky and I wondered what it would be like in the rain when the pipes are covered with slick mud.  I looked down between the pipes and saw water running several feet below the bridge.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p210
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 08, 2013, 12:27:26 PM
Sometimes I could see for only about 200 feet.  Another accident held up traffic for about 15 minutes on the Houston beltway.  Later a guy in a pickup truck spun out directly in front of me.  First I was following his taillights and a moment later I was looking at his headlights.
Besides the pouring rain, there was a fierce crosswind.  I got into some heavy truck traffic and got thrown around quite a bit.  The random wind currents around the trucks were so strong that my tires kept breaking loose sideways and the bike was doing a ballet as the tires would break traction one way and then the other. The deep furrows in the road and the rumble knobs between the lanes didn't help.
After I got out on I-10 I tried three times to pass a truck, but every time I got even with his front bumper, I was struck by a heavy blast of wind from his front end that would hit the bike so hard the front wheel would break traction.  I was finally able to get by when we went behind some trees, which  temporarily blocked the strong crosswind.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p225
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 09, 2013, 08:11:14 AM
We learned at dinner that his name was Mario Francisco del Castro Filho.  He was an entrepreneur in his home country, a dealer in boats.  He was a very interesting guy.  He told us about a motorcycle accident he had a few years earlier, after which he was in a coma for three days.  Before the accident he was able to speak fluent French and English; but as a result of the accident he got total amnesia and completely forgot both languages.  Although he was relearning English on this trip, he struggled with it.  He was headed for the Summer Olympic Games in Atlanta where he was entered in the competition with the Brazilian rowing team.  He said he had been sleeping on the ground in his bag, and he was travelling a lot at night because of the heavy RV traffic and road construction during the day.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p233
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 10, 2013, 05:50:29 PM
It was raining and 48 degrees when we rode into Jasper for breakfast at a fancy restaurant there.  A group of Swiss people from a tour bus came out of the restaurant about the same time we did.  We talked with a few of them as we prepared to leave.  One guy kept smiling and saying to me in poor English, "You're goving?" I answered twice, "Yes, we're going." He kept saying it like I didn't hear him the first time and each time I answered the same way.  I thought he might be a little simple, or maybe hard of hearing, but finally his wife, who spoke English clearly, enunciated, "He asked if this is your Gold Wing."  Meanwhile he was smiling and nodding.  As we were pulling out he said "Goot fahrt!" which Jake told me later was German for "Have a good trip."
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p236-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 11, 2013, 09:51:23 AM
The thought processes involved in deciding to take a 3300 mile trip on a 225cc dirt bike get a bit complicated.  It involves a lot of "been there, done that", and wanting to do something different while staying within the general definition of adventure touring.  Having been to Alaska six times on big bikes I once said that if I ever go again it would probably be on a 200cc motorcycle just to be different.  But then I may never get the desire to go to Alaska again and I may never own a 200cc motorcycle.  Besides, it would probably take me at least two weeks just to get there on that size bike.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p239
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 12, 2013, 08:55:24 AM
I soon learned that it was necessary to shift down on many of the hills.  The little engine sang soprano as it whirred loudly in the lower gears over Storm King Mountain behind West Point.  Coming down the north side it let out a high-pitched whine as my speed edged up over 65 MPH.  I swore I could hear it saying, "Hold on old man, we're going to Labrador."  I stopped briefly at Jim Moroney's shop in Newburgh before heading into the Catskills.  I got a few chuckles and a few expressions of skepticism about the little bike, but I think no one doubted my resolve - my sanity maybe but not my resolve.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p240
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 13, 2013, 08:55:17 AM
It did start to rain near the first construction activity about 30 miles out, where a large piece of machinery was cutting a swath through the trees with a huge cutting wheel.  The machine threw chunks of bark and branches all over the place.  I caught a piece of something on the end of my toe that was quite painful.  Around 50 miles out a huge backhoe was digging on one side of the road and depositing Its bucket loads on the other side.  We had to time our passing to be between swings of the huge bucket.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p247
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 14, 2013, 06:54:16 AM
About 20 miles past the construction I thought I saw a deep washout across the road in front of me as we were travelling about 40 MPH.  My clouded, rain-covered face shield blurred my already poor vision.  I thought I didn't want to hit the ditch at that speed, so I went for the rear brake.  Unfortunately I hit it a little too hard, throwing the bike into a slight broad-slide.  Consequently it was crossed up when it struck the minor washout and I did a really ugly departure from the bike, landing on my head.  Jake said when the bike landed it hit first on one side and then did a complete somersault, landing on the other side.  It's amazing how much that little machine can take, not to mention my 72-year-old body.  I bounced along the ground and heard my helmet hit the dirt road three times before I finally came to rest.  As Jake was picking me up, he said I was lucky I landed on my head; otherwise, I might have really gotten hurt!
The only damage that resulted from the spill was that the brake pedal got bent, which Jake straightened while I regained my composure.  I sustained a slight concussion and we had to stop a few times to rest when I got dizzy and nauseated each time we took off.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p247-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 15, 2013, 05:55:36 PM
I noticed that from riding a few hours with bare hands, the strong return spring on the throttle had caused all of the heavy skin on the entire palm of my right hand to break loose from the flesh like a huge blister.  It meant that I would have to use my heavier gloves and I'd have to hold the throttle mainly with my fingers and thumb until the skin a chance to reattach itself.  It also meant no more riding with bare hands until I could get different return springs installed.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p254
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Pezzz on September 16, 2013, 12:46:24 AM
"What the **** was that?"  (Anna Bligh)
I thought the mayor of Hiroshima said that. (According to KB Wilson)

Sent from somewhere using something on my phone :-)

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Pezzz on September 16, 2013, 01:31:54 AM
I have never heard a motorcycle make a quote now I come to think about it  :wink1 :grin let alone a quote of the day :whistle :grin
My bike says "something" often... Either that or the fuel tank is venting....

Sent from somewhere using something on my phone :-)

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 16, 2013, 08:50:00 AM
It rained the entire day between Beaver Creek and Watson Lake, 570 miles of the roughest part of the Alaska Highway.  Most of the dirt in the 22 miles of construction was soft from the rain and offered no better handling than the loose gravel on the way up.  At least there was no dust and it was still early, so there wasn't much machinery working and I rode through most of it between 65 and 70 MPH.
The road surface was particularly rough around Haines Junction and Lake Kluane.   Going across some of the huge breaks in the pavement at 75, the GS would let out a loud "Brrrrumf," as the paralevers and cantalevers soaked it up like it wasn't there.  Even though I had several extra pounds of air in each tire, the sound it made was sometimes unnerving.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p262-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 17, 2013, 10:10:20 AM
I left the co-op store totally exhausted and thinking, "Oh well, it could be worse; it could be raining with strong crosswinds instead of the head winds."  Almost like magic, the strong winds changed to the side and heavy rainsqualls started.  I cut my speed to 70 and a few times down to 65 when the crosswinds got up to 40 and 50 MPH.  Having had the Gold Wing break traction once with both wheels at the same time in similar conditions, I was very leery of what could happen next.  The BMW was about 250 pounds lighter than the Gold Wing, and my tall tank bag, high trunk, and back-seat luggage all contributed to giving it a huge silhouette and making it want to act like a kite, wind-surfing me across the prairie.   I had to constantly struggle for control and I worked for every mile.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p267
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 18, 2013, 10:34:57 AM
It got the most hair-raising when trucks coming the other way at the same high speed would momentarily block the wind and I would become entangled in their turbulence.  I would be instinctively making the necessary corrections behind the truck when all of a sudden I would be spit out the other end; which left me to struggle with regaining control on the wet, slippery road, while the crosswinds would again hit me hard from the side.  I'd laugh about it at the time, but after a few of those I tried to find a different track whenever a big truck approached.  The tire tracks on my side were usually filled with water, there was a lot of loose sand along the shoulder, and the center of the lane was shiny with oil drippings; so there wasn't a clear track anywhere, and I was continually aware that the wind could knock the bike out from under me at any moment.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p267
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 19, 2013, 10:42:03 AM
I also had problems with my eyesight in Saskatchewan whenever I passed long trucks.  I couldn't see far enough to get clear view for my pass and sometimes I would think I had a clear shot when I would start passing a truck moving around 70 or 75 around 80, I would realize that the truck was a tandem rig with two trailers and a huge 12-wheel dolly between the trailers.  Some of those rigs were more than 150 feet long.  I'd usually have the throttle screwed on all the way; but when I would be 3/4 of the way by, I would then see someone coming fast from the opposite direction.  It would be far too late to change my mind and drop back, so I'd have to continue my pass.  Before I could get all the way by, the oncoming car would be there, and I would have to tuck in close to the truck's cab.  The other vehicle would have to take to the shoulder, usually with his horn on high.  I think they should either ban that length truck from 2-lane roads or have a sign on the back informing motorists of the length of the rig; but with my eyesight, I probably wouldn't be able to read the sign anyway.
Motorcycling Stories  Piet Boonstra p268
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 20, 2013, 08:54:21 AM
Howard had a racer’s bias against touring.  He campaigned, sometimes successfully, a highly tuned Honda 350 Four against droves of "off-brand ring-dings" on Midwest road circuits.  He thought touring a tedious penance for some unspecified sin committed in an earlier life.  He also feared and distrusted venerable British Twins.
Howard’s last word of advice was that I send a Honda Gold Wing to the post office in Council Bluffs, Iowa, and then pray that I made it that far so I could change horses en route. No thanks, I said. I'd ridden a Gold Wing.
Too easy.  Like taking a tram up the Eiger, instead of climbing the face.
Anybody could get to Seattle on a Gold Wing. Farrah, for-Gods-sake, Fawcett-Majors could get there on a Gold Wing.  It was adventure I was after, not trip insurance.
Leanings  Peter Egan p15
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 21, 2013, 03:15:56 PM
There was some rain gear, minimum clothes, and a carefully chosen tool kit.  No compass, snakebite kit, or spare shoe laces.  Travelling light on a motorcycle demands ruthless restraint, a fine sense of asceticism, and a big wad of colourful plastic credit cards.  We left before sunup on a Saturday morning.
Two hours of ghostly pre-dawn gloom swirled past, and then at  7 am. the Twin delivered us to the crest of the palisades above the Mississippi River Valley.  The air was cool, but the first rays of the sun warmed our backs and began to burn away the mist.  Only the towers of the bridges below rose out of the fog.  The hills on the opposite bank were golden green in the morning sun.
"Not bad!" I shouted over my shoulder.
"What?" my wife replied.  We were to have many such conversations in the miles ahead.
Leanings  Peter Egan p16
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 22, 2013, 01:56:27 PM
I loved my Honda 50.  It was a 1964 step-through, C100, two-tone blue, with 6,000 miles on the odometer.  I bought it from a doctor who was cleaning his garage and wasn't sure if anyone would want the little thing, but took a chance on throwing an ad in the paper.  His doubts were understandable.  Who, after all, would want a used $75 machine that takes almost no maintenance, is reliable as a stone (though slightly faster), and takes the owner to work and back all week for 37 cents?
The day I drove out to look at the machine it was sitting in the doctor’s driveway, and even as I drove up I could see that the bike was in mint condition.  It nearly brought tears to my eyes.  My Volkswagen was still dieseling  as I wrote out the cheque.
Leanings  Peter Egan p23
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 23, 2013, 08:26:04 AM
My first gas stop, on the second morning, revealed that the Honda had guzzled no less than half a gallon during the 80 miles we'd covered the previous day, at a cost of 32 cents.  That was 160 mpg. John was numb. "Thirty- two cents?  That's crazy!  Hell, I spent over a dollar on granola bars yesterday, just so I'd have enough energy to pedal this bike."
He stared at the Honda with a troubled frown, as if trying to grasp some searing new truth.  "That's plain madness.  You can’t make a gas tank leak that slowly, much less run a vehicle.”
Leanings  Peter Egan p27-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 24, 2013, 09:35:18 AM
Just outside of town I stopped to install some ear plugs I'd bought to ward off total deafness on the long trip.  After five minutes, I had to stop and take them out.  They worked too well; I couldn't hear a thing.  They made riding surreal, and eerily quiet.  For all I knew, my exhaust header had fallen off and a broken rod was hammering my block to pieces.  I began to fantasize engine and chassis noises, much the way someone wearing stereo headphones constantly imagines that the phone and doorbell are ringing. 
Like those early airline pilots who objected to enclosed cockpits, I preferred to hear the wind in the wires and ignore the instruments.
Leanings  Peter Egan p34
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 25, 2013, 09:36:31 AM
When I couldn't stand it any more I sold my 160 and bought a sports car- a 1959 Triumph TR-3 with no side curtains and a hole the size of a cannonball in the otherwise opaque rear window of the convertible top.  The Triumph, of course, was no warmer than the Honda, but since it never ran more than three minutes at a time I never had a chance to get really cold.  Also, when you tapped the horn button the steering wheel began to smoulder and melt, which added a touch of comfort in cold weather.  The wiring harness finally burned up and I sold the car for a tremendous profit and bought myself another bike; a 305 Superhawk.  By that time it was summer.  I was done with winter riding for good.
I took the sheet off the Norton, dumped in a gallon of stale lawnmower gas, strapped its trickle-charged battery back under the seat, and went upstairs to dress.  I put on all the clothes I owned and then went down to the garage to get my waxed-cotton Belstaff jacket.  My wife won't let me keep it in the regular coat closet because she says it smells like creosote.  I wrapped a scarf around my face and buckled my helmet.  The Norton's anaemic electric starter went "dit," so I started the bike with just enough kicks to steam up my face shield with hot panting breath.
Leanings  Peter Egan p48
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 26, 2013, 09:02:54 AM
Motorcyclists in cold weather are always in a quandary over their speed.  Should they ride fast and get it over with, enduring the ravages of high-speed wind, or should they ride slowly, prolonging a slightly less terrible agony.
Jim had chosen Slow Death.  Coming down the highway his bike looked like one of those lone cavalry horses returning to the fort with a dead rider full of arrows slumped in its saddle, stopping here and there to nibble on sagebrush.  I'd never seen Jim ride so slowly, or so stiffly.  And I'd never seen a motorcycle turn a corner without leaning, but Jim did it as he pulled into the parking lot.  He pulled to a stop and sat on his bike; just sat, not bothering to shut the engine off, as though he expected some kind of emergency ground crew to run out of the restaurant and lift him off his Commando.  No help arrived, so he slowly reached for the key and turned it off.  A minute later he tilted his head downward and began to look for the kickstand.  A stiff robot leg caught the edge of the stand and kicked it out.
Leanings  Peter Egan p49
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 27, 2013, 07:50:07 AM
He walked right past my table without looking at me and went to the counter.  "Coffee," he said.  The waitress started to ask if that was for here or to take out but something in his voice made her think the better of it.  She quickly set out a large white Styrofoam cup with a plastic lid.  Jim paid and walked over to my table.  He sat down heavily, without speaking, and peeled the lid from his cup with a hand like a claw.  He took a drink and looked darkly into the cup.  I feared for a moment that he might dump the stuff over his head, or at east pour it down his boot.  But he just warmed his hands over the steaming cup and looked at me, raising one eyebrow in a sudden show of levity.
"Been here long?" he asked.
“Can’t tell yet.”
Jim looked out the window. "Lovely weather. It looks like midnight."
“Supposed to snow."  Jim nodded.
"We better warm up and head for home.  I don't want to spend the winter in this place."  He looked around. "Even it if is warm."
Leanings  Peter Egan p50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 28, 2013, 07:03:32 AM
The rear was an ancient K-70 Dunlop, and the front carried no identification at ail except the single word, "Riken," which I took to be either a brand name or a misspelled assessment  of the tire’s road- holding qualities.  Both tires were worn perfectly square across the bottom, leaving a heeled-over footprint about the thickness of a dime.  The mildest lean caused the bike to handle very oddly, cornering in swoops and dips, like a playful otter chasing trout.  Also, the rear tire tried to slide a quick 180 into every turn, which was no fun at all.  So I went down to the cycle shop and bought a pair of Universal tires, legendary for their low price and for cutting down on sparks and noise by keeping your rims off the pavement.  They were a vast improvement.
Leanings  Peter Egan p62
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 29, 2013, 12:51:43 PM
Universal shod, I rode off into town to show people my new bike.  The Honda 150 Benly drew mixed reviews that first day.  Everyone had an opinion; no one was neutral.  A friend of mine said it was "a bike only a pimp could love," and a man at a stoplight told me it was the "best damned bike I ever had."  The child across the street, who just recently learned to talk, described it as "a funny motorcycle."  People who knew absolutely nothing about motorcycles thought it was "very pretty," or even "beautiful."  Those more acquainted with the breed rolled their eyes back in their heads and snorted, or merely chuckled quietly.  Then, when they settled down to examine the old bike, their eyes took on a vague, faraway look and I knew that they were being transported back to something or someplace.
Leanings  Peter Egan p62-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 30, 2013, 01:06:01 PM
We got under way early on a Saturday morning, heading north out of Madison toward a town called Sauk City.  The first 15 miles of highway were crowded and busy.  The 150 felt smooth and crisp in the cool morning air, but just couldn't push two people and a windscreen through the air at anything over 50 mph.  We got passed by everything on the road; funeral processions, farm implements, three nuns in a station wagon- everything but a homecoming float and the Tijuana Marching Guitar Band.  Most people seemed to sense we were working with some kind of power deficit and gave us waves of encouragement.
Leanings  Peter Egan p63
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 01, 2013, 08:41:07 AM
We went back to the village and I took the Triumph for a test ride.  Everything was loose, but the bike ran fine.  So after a moment of silence for my life's savings I swallowed hard and wrote out a check. We were only 25 miles from the city, so I decided to live dangerously and ride the Bonneville home.  Barb drove our Volkswagen, "Follow me, but keep your distance," I advised.  "Watch for falling parts and blink your lights if run over anything."
Leanings  Peter Egan p73
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 02, 2013, 09:28:28 AM
The brakes were terrible, but every time I dived into a corner at unchecked, suicidal speed I discovered there was no cause for alarm; the Triumph heeled over into an easy arc and came out of the corner without flinching.  The hand and foot controls felt crude and antique after the velvet-and-Teflon smoothness of those on my Japanese Four, yet the performance of the bike was anything but antique.  The speedometer needle touched a surprisingly easy 105 mph as I moved out to put some distance on a gravel-tossing milk tanker.
The Bonneville tracked down the road with an uncanny, almost gyroscopic stability at that speed, encouraging you to go faster than 12-year-old maladjusted engines full of dirty old oil ought to.  I got a firm grip on my enthusiasm, slowed down, and made it home without blowing the thing up.
Leanings  Peter Egan p74
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 03, 2013, 08:34:03 AM
We gave up the search and headed out of town to the Interstate, where found a motel and a nearby restaurant staffed by some high school girls who seemed to be getting the most out of their grape gum.  We had a dinner of enchiladas out of a can sprinkled with a kind of cheese product.  The enchiladas were cold, but were served with hot lettuce; proof that lettuce heats faster in a microwave oven.
The number of people in the restaurant business who cant cook to save their lives is staggering.  If they were plumbers our houses would all be flooded.  If they worked for the government things would be just as they are now.
Leanings  Peter Egan p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 04, 2013, 09:16:35 AM
Beneath the relaxed magic of the sun and palm trees is a special tension that keeps people alert, their eyes moving.  Daytona is full of famous people, at least if you follow motorcycle racing.  At the hotel coffee shop you hear the rapid ups and downs of a British accent and turn to see Mike Hailwood sitting at the next table with a friend.  He is engrossed in conversation, fortunately, and doesn't notice the forkful of grits and melted butter you've just dumped on your lap.
At a crosswalk on Beach Boulevard a van pulls up and its driver turns out to be, on second take, Gary Nixon.  While dining on sweet and sour shrimp at the Hawaiian Inn that night our perfect view of four hula dancers doing a floor show is interrupted by the entire Yoshimura family filing in, led by Pops himself.  Wes Cooley joins them a few minutes later and Rich Schlachter drops by to say hello, or whatever very fast, famous guys say to one another.
Leanings  Peter Egan p98
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 05, 2013, 09:30:16 AM
The crowd in Daytona is truly international.  The British arrive in droves, escaping the same lousy weather as the Americans from the north or the eastern seaboard.  Lots of French; in the hotel lobby a French reporter with a fistful of notes is shouting a race report long distance to Paris or somewhere ( C'est Cooo-leee!  Non, non Cooo-leee!") while a blonde woman who somehow escaped from a designer jeans commercial clings to his arm and pouts and generally looks French.  Canadians are everywhere, with plenty of red maple leaves on their luggage so no one mistakes them for Americans.  At the International House of Pancakes a group of Italian men wearing Meccanica Ducati T-shirts argue among themselves over the meaning of Cheese Blintz or Buckwheat Strawberry Delight and a man behind us in line says, "By God, this really is an International House of Pancakes."
Leanings  Peter Egan p98-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Nigel on October 05, 2013, 07:22:54 PM
Key tag reads RIDE FOR TOMMORROW.

Sounds like a bit of a plan? Certainly on my list of things to do!
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 06, 2013, 12:03:12 PM
At the bike factory the stamping and machining of gears, shafts, etc. is mostly automated, but the final assembly line is handwork and the most interesting to see.  There's something strange about watching bare frames come down from the ceiling on hooks at one end of the assembly line while at the other end, just a few hundred feet away, completed machines are started up and ridden away.  Last time I restored a bike and assembled it from parts it took me about six months, and starting the rebuilt engine for the first time was a dramatic event to rival the first manned flight.  Yamaha was turning out a new living, breathing 550 Vision about every 30 seconds, fully expecting each one to start and work just fine.
Leanings  Peter Egan p108-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 07, 2013, 09:25:05 AM
The most exciting bit of assembly line technology for the visiting journalists, because so many of us have spent time chasing ball bearings under workbenches, was the installation of steering head bearings.  The workman was dipping a ring-shaped vacuum attachment into a huge keg of ball bearings, shoving them into the grease of the steering head cups, and then releasing the vacuum.  We watched in amazement. "So that's how they do it," said Editor Larry Works, "they have a bearing Hoover."
Leanings  Peter Egan p109
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 08, 2013, 09:53:32 AM
If Federico Fellini ever gets a little farther out and wants to film a truly bizarre spectacle taken from real life, he should bring his camera crew and sound men into the cargo bay of the Isle of Man ferry on a night when approximately 500 motorcycles are being cranked over or kick started all at once, packed together in a steel room about the size of a small gymnasium and lighted by a dim row of 40 watt light bulbs.
The microphones would pick up an ear-splitting confusion of shrieking RDs, high-revving unmuffled Fours, and the general chest-pounding thunder of Ducati 900s, Norton 850s and 750s, Harleys, Triumphs, BSAs, BMWs, and piston-slapping British 500 Singles, all of it bouncing oft the walls in an incredible rising and falling wail.  The camera crews would get footage of several hundred leather-clad people flipping down face shields and punching starter buttons, with others in the mob of bikes heaving up and down on kickstarters like erratic pistons in some kind of insane smoke machine, headlights flaring on to make a blanket of brilliance and flashing chrome at the bottom layer of the smoke cloud.  They could catch the bikes launching themselves row by row up the ramp into the dark night, people spinning their tires on the oil-slick steel ramp or catching traction and disappearing in half-controlled wheelies.
What no film could capture is the mixed smell of Castrol R, several brands of two-stroke oil, and all the other choking thick exhaust fumes, or the instant, furnace-like heat given off by hundreds of motorcycles lighting their engines in a confined space.  Also, they'd have to film it through the distorted starburst pattern of a really scratched yellow face shield, just to get the last effect of profound unreality.  You wouldn't want to witness this scene if you'd been smoking anything funny or you might just go mad and never recover.
Leanings  Peter Egan p116-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 09, 2013, 10:09:37 AM
The crowd is generally polite, knowledgeable, and enthusiastic.  Even with all the drinking and pub-crawling at night there never seems to be any ugliness; none of the usual fistfights, throwing up kerbside, or shouting clever things at passing women.  Even the roughest-looking characters never seem to get publicly drunk or nasty.  People stand around in groups of friends, pints of Guinness in hand, looking at bikes and talking about racing.  I've never seen so many people drink so much and have such a good time without anyone getting out of control.  They could obviously use some Mean and Stupid lessons from race fans in other parts of the world.
It probably goes back to the cost and commitment of getting to the island.  In order to get there you have to (a) love motorcycles and (b) be smart enough to read a steamship schedule, both severe obstacles to a large part of the human race.  The Isle of Man crowd is a fun collection of people.
Leanings  Peter Egan p118-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 10, 2013, 08:29:34 AM
Briefly, the circuit is a 37.7-mile rectangle that looks as though its been shipped parcel post through the U.S. Mail (crushed and dented in spots), running up one side of the island and back down the other.  Most of the narrow pavement runs through villages, farms, and wooded glens in gently rolling countryside, but at the north end of the island it climbs the side of Mt. Snaefel and then descends in great sweeping stretches all the way to the start/finish line in Douglas.
There are only about a dozen slow corners on the course, so the rest the circuit can be taken about as fast as memory and icy nerve allow.  If you can remember what’s around the next blind corner or over the brow of the next blind hill (and most people can't) you can ride large sections of the course flat out.  If your memory isn't so good there are a lot of walls, churches, houses, and other fine examples of picturesque stonemasonry waiting to turn you into an ex-motorcyclist.
Leanings  Peter Egan p119
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 11, 2013, 09:21:27 AM
The next day was Mad Sunday, when the track is open to the public and the police and their radar guns look the other way.  Barb and I joined a stream of speeding bikes for a quick lap.  Most of the riders were relatively sane, under the circumstances.  The only hairy part was the downhill off the mountain.  Every time we came up behind some slow vintage bike, like a smoking Scott Flying Squirrel, I'd check the mirrors and find we were being passed by a Honda 900F going 90 being passed by a Guzzi Le Mans going 100 being overtaken by a Bimota Kawasaki going flat out.  This telescoping speed range can make things exciting on Mad Sunday.
Leanings  Peter Egan p123
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 12, 2013, 09:35:39 AM
There are no motorways or expressways to speak of in Ireland, so there is a fair amount of commercial traffic on the main roads along the coast and between larger cities.  Leave the main roads, however, and the traffic drops off to a desultory mixture of sheep, tractors, the occasional car, cattle, donkey carts, and pedestrians, all travelling at roughly the same speed and spaced well apart.  Irish drivers tend to be relaxed and easy-going, with none of the murderous seriousness you find on the Continent.  There is a sense of good-natured flexibility and complete patience.  Making time on Irish roads is not in the cards, however, and dragging your knee in corners isn't recommended unless you wish to become One with the back of a haywagon, or are especially fond of sheep.
Leanings  Peter Egan p137
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 13, 2013, 03:57:56 PM
In the morning we rode out to the Waterford Crystal factory at the edge or the city and watched the glassblowers and cutters at work.  I'd never seen such a cheerful, good-natured bunch or workers in any factory, but then, the last factory I worked at was a gunpowder plant, where anxiety was our most important product.  Barb and I bought a crystal salt-and-pepper-shaker set, after voting them most likely to succeed in a tank bag.  Wine glasses and chandeliers were out of the question.
Leanings  Peter Egan p138
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 14, 2013, 12:35:38 PM
“Take off those leather jackets.  Okay, now open the duffel bag.  Unroll that pink thing.  What is that, a  pink tent?  Unroll it. What  are those?”
"Tent stakes.”
"What's that other thing in there?"
“A flashlight.”
"Let's see it.  Take the batteries out.  That's it.  Put them on the table."
And so on.  Then we were searched and told to empty our pockets on the desk.  Drivers licenses were checked, social security cards, draft cards of course, plans, home towns, and possible criminal records.  One officer took our ID material into his office and began dialling phone numbers.  He talked, nodded, dialled, lit and snubbed out numerous cigarettes, all the while watching us through the glass partition with unblinking reptilian eyes that said he'd seen guys like us before.  It was 1967, a war was on, we were or college age, this was the Canadian border, it was midnight and of course we were on motorcycles. All wrong.
Leanings  Peter Egan p148
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 15, 2013, 09:49:19 AM
Following the St. Lawrence River, we crossed into Quebec Province and made it to Montreal late in the afternoon.  After being turned down at three hotels with VACANCY signs burning, we learned to leave our helmets and jackets on the bikes while inquiring.  In the end, the effort was wasted.  We found a room in a downtown hotel so cheap that mere possession of helmets and jackets made us something of a success story within its dark hallways.  Most of the patrons were elderly men who talked to themselves and seemed to own nothing but a jealously guarded brown paper bag.  The rest were slightly younger women who kept funny hours.
For the next two days we walked all over the hills of Montreal, sitting in parks, poking abound in bookstores, and looking over the campus of McGill University.  We climbed Mount Royal and looked out over the grounds of Expo 1967.  The second evening we stopped in a topless bar, which at that time was a brand-new concept - or great novelty.  As we sipped on beers, a rather bored-looking woman climbed up on the bar and did some perfunctory topless dancing to Spencer Davis' “Gimme Some Lovin’”. Then she sat down at the bar and said "Give me a beer, Ernie."  Donnelly and I looked down the bar for a moment and smiled politely.  She studied us for a moment and didn't smile back.  I don't think she liked my work boots.  It was suddenly too quiet in the bar.  What do you say to a topless dancer?  That was nice dancing?  We paid our tab and left. I felt Spencer Davis had somehow been compromised.
Leanings  Peter Egan p152
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 16, 2013, 09:41:03 AM
Always wary of being refused service because of our motorcycles, I was overjoyed to walk into the office and find that the place doubled as a Yamaha dealership, of all things.  An elderly woman sat knitting kerosene by a stove.  She explained that her son ran the Yamaha end of the business and she managed the cabins.  Would we like a cabin for the night or motorcycle parts?  A cabin?  She'd get the stove and hot water turned on for us, then, and a clothesline to hang up our wet clothes.  She explained almost apologetically that the cabin would cost six dollars for both of us.
Was that OK?
It was OK. We stayed in a tidy little log cabin with two feather beds and a bathtub on feet.  In the morning the rain was hammering down on the green shingled roof and neither of us wanted to get out of bed.  We discussed staying in the cabin until the rain stopped or until we died, whichever came first.  Lack of money and a driving need for breakfast finally got the better of us however, and we pushed onward into the morning rain.
Leanings  Peter Egan p154
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 17, 2013, 08:50:15 AM
His Harley had the biggest pile of luggage I'd ever seen lashed onto the back of any motorcycle.  It looked like an overloaded pack burro.  Prominent in this mobile heap of goods was a full-sized Coleman two-burner stove, an ice chest, and the biggest tent I'd ever seen outside a circus.  Ron sipped his coffee and looked in amazement at our damp jackets.
"Don't you guys have any rain gear?" he asked.
"No."  He shook his head.  "Strange . . ."  He invited us to travel with him and said he had a tent big enough for all of us.  The weather at last began to clear, and the three of us cruised along the north shore or Lake Nipissing, across the barren yellow moonscape of Sudbury's sulphur mining district and down to the North Channel of Lake Huron.  It took us a while to get used to travelling with Ron.  He cruised down the road with his feet up on highway pegs, looking around at the scenery, never exceeding 60 mph.  It had never occurred to Donnelly and me that anyone would ever voluntarily go slower than 85 mph, as long as there were no cops around.  We rode everywhere flat out.  And here was this guy, motoring along 5 mph under the speed limit, appearing to enjoy himself.  It took some getting used to.
Leanings  Peter Egan p155
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 18, 2013, 05:58:06 PM
There was also a glassy smoothness that implied—to us Britbike fans a long engine life and a riding experience devoid of lost bolts, loose head-pipes, fractured gas tanks, and headlight filaments shaken to tungsten dust.
Also of interest and pleasure to those of us who used British motorcycles as a standard of aesthetics (if not smoothness) was the general shape and look of the 500 and 550. Hondas of this era looked less . . . well, Japanese, than they had earlier.  They embraced a kind of architectural classicism that paid tribute to both British and Italian design, with just enough Honda thrown in to reassure those who hated walking.
Leanings  Peter Egan p167
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 19, 2013, 03:53:30 PM
Where the 1200 Trophy exudes a kind of solid, head-of-the-famiiy virtue, the Speed Triple is the wild, good-looking son who smokes cigarettes, runs around with girls, and stays out too late.  It is a lithe, low, and fast cafe-racer that feels dense and compact, as if cast from a single billet It has one of the most charismatic engines to enrich our sport since Ducati got back on its feet.  Responsive and punchy, it has a growly, torn canvas exhaust note that cures depression, boredom, and ailments of the nervous system.
Leanings  Peter Egan p175
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 20, 2013, 12:51:47 PM
In the morning we rise early and don wetsuits for a whitewater raft trip down a nearby river gorge.  Our raft guide is a lovely woman of outdoor radiant health (does no one look sickly in this country?) who says her name is Ista.
"Beautiful name," I remark. "Unusual."
"Not unusual here," she says. "Ista is a name from the Old Testament.
Edwards and I look at each other for a minute, blandly. "Ah," David says, "Esther."
"Right," she says, "lsta.”
After years of canoeing in Canada, I have learned to be wary of water that moves fast enough to rip your arms off.  Nevertheless, we go through some heavy rapids, then over a 20-foot fall with me in the front of the raft and nose straight into the roiling water below like a Stuka with a broken elevator cable.  I am flung out of the raft (holding onto a rope) and then flung back in, with a little help from Ista.  Thrilling stuff, even if I have sprained my thumb and will spend the rest of the trip putting on my right glove with my teeth. Such is the price of glory.
Leanings  Peter Egan p176
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 21, 2013, 08:45:25 AM
Twenty-five miles later I pull over, flip up my shield, and say to David, "I've been thinking about that jump."
"Me too.
"Let's go back and do it. We'll never be here again."
So, we ride back, pay our money, get weighed (for bungee length), walk out on the bridge, and get in line, David first.  They wrap a towel and a nylon strap around the ankles of his motorcycle boots and latch the bungee to the strap.  David tells them, "I'm kind of worried, because my boots are about two sizes too big for me.  They're pretty loose."
The kid who hooks up the rope says, "If it feels like you're going to slip out and fall into the river, just curl up your toes."
David does not laugh as hard at this joke as you'd think.
The man just ahead of David jumps off the bridge and disappears from our sight.  The kid looks over the edge and cries, "Oh, NO!"
"What happened'?"
"Ripped both his legs off!"
David smiles wanly. Then it's his turn.
He bravely jumps without hesitation and disappears into oblivion.  Then I see he's been lowered into the tethered raft on the river below and returned to the riverbank.  He is actually waving and smiling.
My turn.  I hop to the edge of the bridge platform, my feet tied together, and look down.
If there was ever anything that goes against 5 million years of human evolution, it is the concept of diving head first off a 143-foot bridge over cold rushing water with your feet tied together.  There is a special place in your brain set aside for the express purpose of telling you not to do this thing.
Nevertheless, I jump.  The moment of jump is an odd existential experience, but the stretch and triple recoil of the bungee is pure and simple whoopdee-doo fun, like being tossed in a blanket, and is surprisingly unstressfull on the joints, muscles, and spine.  When you are lowered into the raft (like a side of beef) you feel relaxed, refreshed, and loose.  Another triumph of endorphins over reality.
Leanings  Peter Egan p179-180
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on October 21, 2013, 01:30:22 PM
"I look my best when I take my helmet off after a long motorcycle ride. I have a glow and a bit of helmet hair"
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 22, 2013, 09:56:45 AM
As on the Alpine trips I've taken, every night is essentially party night at the hotels, which are well-chosen for their local charm and colour as well as mattress and shower-stall quality.
We eat well, drink lots of good New Zealand beer, wander through towns, and sit around fireplaces telling true stories.  And making friends.  It is an unavoidable part of group motorcycle tours (this is my fourth) that you make friends for life.  This is a natural by-product of hanging around with examples of the world's only known species of consistently superior human, the avid motorcyclist.
Leanings  Peter Egan p181
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 23, 2013, 10:12:44 AM
Non-motorcyclists take the black leather jacket for granted now, as a mere fashion accessory. Everyone from the Ramones to Madonna has appeared publicly in some version of the
Brando-style "Eric von Zipper" motorcycle jacket, so that it has become as harmless a cultural cliche as carhops on roller skates or the 1957 Chevy.
We live in the age of pre-fab charisma, where mere money can buy you an artificially aged (right at the factory) Fender Stratocaster or a pre-stressed 50-mission flight jacket.  Buy the stuff, share the life.  And with a black leather jacket, the spurious risk-image of motorcycling can rub off on you without the inconvenience of learning which is the clutch lever or ever getting wet.  Or crashing. Everyone wants a piece of the danger, but no one wants to get hurt.  We want authenticity to come easy, without too much stress or conflict.
It was not always so.
There was a time in America when symbols had real meaning, and the black leather jacket was a potent one. No one dreamed of wearing a motorcycle jacket without owning a motorcycle.
Leanings  Peter Egan p192-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 24, 2013, 07:45:57 AM
It didn't take Middle America long to connect these jackets with rock-and-roll, overstimulated hormones, greasy ducktails, big sideburns, loud pipes, and the sort of trouble that rode into Hollister, California, one fine day and tore up the town.  Ordinary citizens had seen the photos in Life magazine and they were Not Happy.
You could almost say they were violently, homicidally unhappy.  A wave of revulsion for all things motorcycle swept over the country, and the black leather jacket was its arch symbol.
By the time I was a freshman in high school in the early 1960s, wearing a black leather jacket was an invitation to be ostracized by all but the toughest elements in your hometown.
Even the hoods in my high school quit wearing black leather jackets.  They were afraid some older, unemployed biker with three teeth would kill them with the broken-off neck of a beer bottle, just on principle.
Leanings  Peter Egan p194
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 25, 2013, 08:46:59 AM
Germans- and Europeans in general- seem not to have developed this simmering, Puritanical disapproval of speed you find in America.  Once they are out of the city, Germans simply travel at whatever logical speed is suggested by the road and the capability of their vehicles, be it 65 or 90 mph.  Even in slow vehicles, they don't begrudge other people who can go faster. This makes for nice riding; almost heavenly, by our standards.
Leanings  Peter Egan p199
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Beefa (IanN) on October 25, 2013, 12:46:16 PM
You never see a motorcycle parked outside a Psychiatrists office
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on October 25, 2013, 01:02:14 PM
No, it's more likely you'll see a BMW or a Merc :rofl

You never see a motorcycle parked outside a Psychiatrists office
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 26, 2013, 09:43:56 AM
On the autobahns, of course, there are no speed limits.  There, I discovered our R1 100RS would hit 215 kph (about 135 mph) if we sat in normal riding positions and did not go into a tuck, but the wind flow and noise were a lot more pleasant below 180 kph, and we settled on 160 (about 100 mph) as the most serene cruising speed.  Which, where we live- the Land of  the Free- would get us thrown in jail and our bike towed.
Leanings  Peter Egan p200
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 27, 2013, 12:09:18 PM
Germany is a hard country in which to navigate.  Unlike, say France, which has numbered roads, Germany depends on clusters of destination signs to point the way.  You come to a sudden cross-roads, and instead of an arrow that says "Route 19" you are confronted with one small yellow sign that says.

Marktoberdorf
Klosterlechtfeld
Totenschweinhocksmitstuffin .. .
and another one that reads...

Pfizerknottendinkelrude
Rotenkaisersunterwarren
Bad Rainagain
Behanginwashonderseigfriedline

As you go flying past the intersection at about 120 kph, your navigator/wife leans forward and shouts, "What did those signs say?"
Struck completely dumb in the presence of a thousand Teutonic syllables, you simply skid to a stop and put your head down on the tank and groan.
Leanings  Peter Egan p200
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 28, 2013, 08:39:47 AM
On the road, fellow tour member Peter Wylie on his Suzuki TL1000 passed us with a wave, sailing off into the distance at high speed.  Five miles later, we found him standing in the road next to his bike, at the end of a 50-yard streak of rubber.  As he was accelerating through the gears, his transmission had suddenly seized up solid in fourth gear, locking the rear tire.  The TL had been a test bike for several German magazines, so its trans had probably seen better days.
Leanings  Peter Egan p201
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 29, 2013, 08:53:41 AM
Saturday was race day, but the Friday night before was festival night in downtown Assen.  Unlike Douglas at the Isle of Man, which is Bike Central, Assen has its guest park just outside the barricaded downtown, which is as charming as Disneyland's European Village, but real.  Bands play on every other street corner, bungee jumpers leap from cranes, beer tents sell beer, food tents sell pretzels and sausages. and everybody walks.
Everybody:  Kids, grandmas, bikers, riders in full leathers, moms, young couples with prams, all circulating in a huge, swirling counter-clockwise flow through jam-packed streets.  No pushing, shoving, or swaggering, just a polite, cheerful crowd out for a mass stroll.  I've never seen anything quite like it.  In the U.S., we seldom get an all-ages family crowd at a bike rally.
Leanings  Peter Egan p204
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 30, 2013, 09:45:47 AM
On Saturday we rode to the track, joining the flow down A28 until we were ducted into one of a dozen parking fields whose size and glittering mass of handlebars, gas tanks, and headlights almost defies description.  How many bikes do you picture on Earth?  Triple that number, square it, and then multiply by your age and envision them all parked at Assen.
Ever wonder where all the cowhide goes when McDonalds is done making hamburgers?
Leathers.  At Assen.
Leanings  Peter Egan p204-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on October 31, 2013, 07:49:23 AM
"Most motorcycle problems are caused by the nut that connects the handlebars to the seat"
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 31, 2013, 09:00:46 AM
I later stopped again at the Nurburgring, the famous 14-mile race circuit tested in the Eifel Mountains.  The track was open for anyone with the 22-deutchmark ($13)-per-lap fee. So our group lined up behind various Porsches, taxicabs full of tourists, sportbikes, and teens in hot-rodded Opels (can you imagine this happening in America?) and paid our money, just as the rain began pouring down again.  Before we pulled onto the track, Christian walked up and said, "A road- racing friend of mine recently won a race here in the rain because he didn't crash. He normally finishes 14th.”  He peered in through my helmet visor to see if I understood.
Message delivered. The track was indeed quite slippery in the rain- slick with oil and rubber- so we didn't exactly set any new two-up lap records, but the length and difficulty of the track, one of the most beautiful on Earth, made its impression.  With 174 corners per lap, you feel like you’ve been gone for a month when you finally get back to the start-finish line.  And, in my case, I probably had.
Leanings  Peter Egan p205-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 01, 2013, 08:52:12 AM
El Chico Loco rejoined us for dinner that night, seated in a wheelchair.  Seems the surgeons had not only fixed his broken leg, but repaired the botched job done by an American hospital back in the 1970s after his dirt-bike accident.  He read us a hilarious account he'd written of his week in the hospital, and said he'd seen the Dutch TT on TV in the hospital lounge, sipping champagne ordered from the maternity gift shop.
Seems a German policeman came to his hospital room and served him a traffic ticket for going too fast.
"I was going fast," Chico told him, "but certainly not too fast.  If I'd been going too fast, I'd be dead.  All I've got is a broken leg."
The cop agreed and reduced the fine.  A happy ending, all things considered.
Leanings  Peter Egan p207
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 02, 2013, 09:52:22 AM
Over dinner, I learned that Stan and Herb have been riding since high school and, between them, have owned, restored, broken, or patched up just about every motorcycle ever made: BMWs, BSAs, Ducatis, Harleys, Hondas, Kawasakis, Laverdas, Nortons, Triumphs, etc.  Motorcycle guys of wide focus, lifelong and hopeless, which we now know to be the best kind of person. They've got the disease.
Leanings  Peter Egan p213
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 03, 2013, 11:00:19 AM
And, as usual, we had a great bunch of guys to travel with.  I looked around the table at our typically hilarious farewell dinner and thought of that old saying about the pioneers and cowboys who settled the Old West: "The faint of heart never left, and the fools perished along the way."
Motorcycle tours have a little of that same filtration process built into them.  Only folks with a sense of adventure and the ability to keep it on two wheels for a week ever sign up for these trips, and they are by nature a lively bunch.
Leanings  Peter Egan p225
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on November 03, 2013, 07:37:31 PM
"The best modifications cannot be seen from the outside"
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 04, 2013, 01:03:17 PM
(Remember- this is USA- LH drive, so the sidecar is on the right…)
A sidecar, of course, is not like any other vehicle. It doesn't- as some have suggested- exist halfway between a motorcycle and a car; it's simply a Third Way.  It lacks all the saving dynamic virtues of both bikes and cars, so driving one ("riding" seems an inadequate verb) is an art form unto itself. 
In right turns, the car feels as though it wants to lift and flip over on you, while the motorcycle itself leans and groans vertiginously outward in defiance of all sound motorcycling instinct. In left turns . . .  well, it doesn't want to turn left.  It prefers to go straight and can be made to change its mind only through brute force on the handlebars.  Until you get used to it both motions set off primitive alarm bells in your brain that Something is Going Wrong, inducing the occasional cold sweat.
In straight-line cruising, inertia and wind want to hold the car back, so you have to keep a steady pressure on the right bar to hold it straight.  In hard downhill braking, the car wants to circle the bike, unless you use plenty of rear brake- which, on the Harley, is linked to a nicely effective disc brake on the outer wheel of the car.
In other words, its more work than riding a motorcycle.  But once you get used to the rig, you begin to relax and it becomes fun.  It’s simply a unique and refined skill, like flying an airplane, or playing the dulcimer with a sledgehammer.
Leanings  Peter Egan p228
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 05, 2013, 10:19:19 AM
I'd been standing by the highway for some time when two full-dress Harleys came thundering by.  To my amazement, the front rider signalled a stop and pulled over.  I ran up to the bike and an older man in a white T-shirt and a yacht-captain's hat grinned and said, "Hop on."
I climbed on the back of a huge sprung saddle with fringe and conchos and we roared on down the road.  I remember looking over the guy's shoulder at the speedometer and noting that we were going 80 miles an hour.   The whole ride was a crazy overload of sounds and sensations: too much to take in.  What struck me about it, though, was the absolute sense of freedom.  I looked around myself at the Harley and thought,  "With one of these you could go anywhere."  On that big motorcycle, the open road seemed to beckon endlessly as it never had when I rode in a car.
Leanings  Peter Egan p240-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 06, 2013, 08:52:10 AM
Novellist D. H. Lawrence once asked how it was possible that so many young Englishmen were able to leave the green, pastoral beauty of their farms to work in the coal mines, living deep underground for all their daylight hours. His answer?
Motorbikes.
Young men wanted motorbikes, he said, so they could return to their villages and farms, take their girlfriends for a ride, and generally Be Somebody.
Leanings  Peter Egan p245
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 07, 2013, 08:10:34 AM
The only disconcerting part of these rides home was that there was something slightly odd about shutting down a lawn mower with a big four-stroke single, and then firing up a motorcycle with a 50cc fan-cooled two-stroke that would have been right at home on a lawn mower. I felt, as Kurt Vonnegut would later say, that some terrible mistake had been made. Bigger bikes with Turtle motor mower quality engines would come later, along with larger loans.
Leanings  Peter Egan p247
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 09, 2013, 09:48:39 PM
Not only do I have plenty to do until spring, but I sometimes find myself overwhelmed with the myriad possibilities, suffering from a condition that has recently been called "option paralysis." This is a malady where you have so many things to do that you can’t focus on any one task, so you end up (in my case) sitting on a workbench, staring happily at pour bikes, sipping on a Guinness, and listening to Bonnie Raitt and John Lee Hooker on the garage boom-box.
This is not a bad thing in itself, but it raises the spectre of spring arriving with bikes only half ready to be ridden. I still picture them, poised like a row of battle-ready fighter planes, waiting to take off at the first sign of warm weather, then to be ridden like crazy all summer without guilt or mechanical hassles.
Leanings  Peter Egan p252
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 10, 2013, 06:52:15 PM
Then, suddenly, there were Hondas. Word spread like wildfire, and so did the bikes, all through the early Sixties.
The price range was $245 to $700 new, depending on the model. Most models (other than the 50cc step-through) had slick, four-speed transmissions hidden inside engine cases, where they couldn't even snag your pants cuff and leave grease marks. Electricity actually reached the headlight, which in turn lit the road. Performance, per cc, was amazing. A Honda Super 90 would go about 60 on the highway while getting around 100 mpg. The CB160 was quicker than most of the old 250 British singles and cost less. The 305 Super Hawk was a giant killer. What's more, these bikes looked good. Someone in Japan understood. Goodbye, Cushman scooter.
Leanings  Peter Egan p258
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 11, 2013, 10:37:09 PM
It was assumed, for reasons I will never understand, that motorcycles had to be wrenched upon constantly, that they were destined to leak oil and vibrate excessively, scattering parts and vaporizing light filaments.
Perhaps I'm painting too bleak a picture of the pre-Honda era, as there were many fine and relatively refined bikes made earlier, but the majority of 1950s motorcycles had what seemed to me a World War I aircraft flavour to their mechanical innards- and outards. ("Advance the spark, Biggies! We've a Hun on our tail.")
My own first bike was not a Honda. After a brief fling with a semi-functional James/Villliers 150, I bought a Bridgestone Sport 50, mainly because we had a local dealer. A good little bike, but it was a two-stroke and had the usual oil-mix/plug-range hassles.
Shortly thereafter, I got a Honda Super 90 and decided I was a four- stroke kind of a guy.
Leanings  Peter Egan p258
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 12, 2013, 09:08:54 PM
A group of people at a party hear you ride a motorcycle and at least one person in the crowd can produce a richly detailed, moment-by-moment account of catastrophe on a first bike ride. Usually the tale ends in a vow never to ride again, or to "stick to four wheels."
As nearly as I can tell, a typical sequence of events in most of these mishaps seems to be: (1) surprise at the abruptness or speed of forward motion combined with a poor sense of twist-grip modulation; (2) growing panic in realizing that the technique for stopping safely has not been adequately rehearsed; and (3) a total loss of steering control as the unnatural instinct to countersteer is replaced, through terror, by an attempt to automatically turn the handlebars in the direction you want to go (which is effective only at very low speed) causing the rider to hit the very object he or she had hoped to avoid.
Leanings  Peter Egan p261
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 13, 2013, 10:10:40 AM
Reflecting on this later, I thought it was both sobering and a little amusing (if such serious matters can ever be said to be amusing) that so many of us who love cars, motorcycles, airplanes, etc. nearly always react to a life crisis in terms of a coveted machine- or an untaken adventure with a machine. Chest pains? Quick, call your Ducati dealer and see if that 916 is still unsold! Tornado miss your house by a few hundred yards? Might as buy a new XR and do Baja off-road, all the way down to Cabo.
Time's a-wastin'!
Leanings  Peter Egan p290-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 14, 2013, 08:36:53 AM
Yours truly, for instance, has hardly ever been without some form of late- 1960s Triumph in the garage. I like the way these bikes look and sound, but there's a little more to it than that. Part of their appeal lies in the fact that these are the bikes I most lusted after during the time I was in Vietnam. And every time I look at one now, it reminds me I'm back.
There's a little reward built into every Triumph, a little private celebration. I suppose people who don't care about motorcycles find some other way of handling these curve balls life throws at us. Maybe a new set of gardening tools, a deluxe bowling ball, or a trip to the Yucatan. Or, if they are of a non-materialistic bent, they may find renewed interest in some spiritual aspect of life, or merely be reminded of how much their families and friends mean to them, or how pointless it is to cause dissension in this short passage of time.
Leanings  Peter Egan p291-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 15, 2013, 08:43:20 AM
Inside, mixed with fishing lures, hip boots, rifles, and shotguns, were rows of new 1973 Hondas. And one of them, pulled out from the row, had a tag on the handlebars that said "SOLD: Egan."
It was a Honda CB350- first year with the disc brake- in a beautiful dark green.
I looked at Barb, who was watching my face to see if she'd done the right thing.
"How did you do this?" I asked quietly.
"I saved a little every month in the credit union at work."
Back in business, after three years without a bike. Reborn.
Anyway, when someone says, "I'm surprised your wife lets you have a motorcycle," I never get annoyed. I just reflect for a few fond moments and am too. Every time.
Leanings  Peter Egan p295
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 16, 2013, 09:55:06 AM
The author wrote this book after completing a round-Australia awareness raising ride for Batten Disease sufferers and their families.
She self-published the book, and all proceeds go to the Batten Disease charity to promote research and support families with information.
The book is only $17.50 posted and can be bought here: http://www.battens.org.au/perils-motorcycling (http://www.battens.org.au/perils-motorcycling)

During 1988 I went up to Queensland to visit my youngest sister Kylie for her 21st birthday. Her partner was a truckie and they had to go out to Ipswich to drop off a truck somewhere out west, so I went in the car with Kylie.  We followed his semi-trailer with the truck on the back of the trailer.  Whilst I was sitting in the passenger seat, a horrible thought occurred to me.  What would we do if the truck fell off the back of the semi?  I started sliding down in the seat to see how flat it was possible to lay.
The next minute I noticed all the chains had in fact snapped, and were dangling off the left side of the truck as we started heading up a hill.  I told Kylie and we madly overtook Phil to get him to pull over before he continued on.  We joked later that because I came up for her birthday, it prevented her from becoming a flat pancake.  She would have been in the car by herself and wouldn't have noticed the broken chains from the driver s seat.
I have the utmost respect for truckies and have appreciated their help over the years during my travels.  Many of them ride motorcycles as well, so their brains work on a similar wavelength.  I've lost count of their “saves” and can remember their warnings, whether it be water over the road ahead or some other potential disaster.
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p47
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 17, 2013, 12:13:59 PM
My instruction on learning to ride an outfit was a short lesson in the car park, of which all I can remember doing was a 'figure 8'.  Off we headed down to ride for what likely had been a very short distance.  I went out of control, middle of the freeway.  The rig tipped over, with the chair up in the air momentarily.  Whilst Marie was balanced up there - or perhaps it was immediately after the chair slammed back down to earth, I can distinctly remember her words.  She was so cool and didn't panic, just calmly said, "Lucky no one was in the overtaking lane at the time!"
Well I never got over that experience remaining scared senseless for the remainder of the trip. I loved the chair, but must have had a look of terror on my face during the times I was at the helm.  Firstly, I didn't feel right sitting so high on the K series, being more comfortable lower to the road.  I have a severe case of duck's disease, where my bum is close to the ground and it likes being there.  The occasional time I rode into a service station, I would forget about the chair being there, hitting the petrol bowser.  Anyway, only because of Maries’ skill, we made it to Mt Dare in one piece, to enjoy the rally over the next few days.
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p56
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 18, 2013, 08:56:14 AM
Riding the Beemer R1OO/S westward past Ipswich, it was the most suffocating heat, somewhere in the mid-40s.  It was the most intense temperature by the middle of the day.  The soles of my boots, as well as the foot pegs, were literally soft and sticky, with the rubber actually melting.
I was riding behind a line of cars, when the next moment I got whacked with a large piece of truck tyre hitting me on the lower body and leg.  I don't know how I stayed upright, but fortunately was able to pull over still in one piece despite the intense pain and sit by the side of the road.  I eventually stopped bawling,  regaining my composure.  It was only then that I realised how lucky I was not to have copped it in the head or chest, as it may have been a different story.
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p74
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 18, 2013, 08:58:39 AM
After multiple attempts to start the bike, it finally fired away.  I looked down at the engine where petrol was pouring out everywhere and noticed some electrical sparks flying about.  Being “the sharpest tool in the shed”, I considered that this may be a vital bit of information that could prevent the two of us self-combusting up there on the road.  I quickly informed Ludo and he immediately cut the engine.  That was the only time we started the motorcycle.  Besides not being able to start it, I didn't like my chances of using the right foot gear changes without killing myself.  For those reasons, we have since sold the Matchless.
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p100
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 19, 2013, 09:24:18 AM
Later that morning, as I was standing with Steve near the main tent, we saw Macka.  I knew him and Simmo from some of the previous Off Centre runs, where the New South Wales and Queensland BMW Club members would sometimes meet up.  I asked him if he remembered me, and he replied, "Of course I do."  At some stage during our conversation, Macka asked me if I was still with the same bloke, as he had met Ludo once before at the Urunga Pub.
Too many years of riding without ear plugs has shot my hearing to pieces, to say the least.  I thought he asked, "Have you still got the same bike?" to which I replied in all earnest that I had to get rid of it because it was too small, it wasn't fast enough etc.  Steve was a bit quicker than I in working out my misunderstanding.  Thankfully he did, as the conversation was going downhill  fast and in retrospect made me sound like a right tart!
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p104
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 20, 2013, 09:26:24 AM
One day whilst riding the Super Glide, I came across our club President at the time, Steve Hill.  His 1920s Douglas had expired in the main street of Bellingen.  Knowing there wasn’t anything much I could do mechanically, the best offer was my mobile phone or a lift home to Nambucca Heads.  Steve rode my bike with me as pillion, enjoying himself immensely scraping the pegs.  Then he jumped on his GS Beemer, which has a trailer, to pick up his Douglas, by which time he was sorted.  It was too easy, with such a good setup for towing a motorcycle with a motorcycle!
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p114
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 21, 2013, 08:52:59 AM
We went on another Just Girls trip, but this time we were heading down to Gloucester. The Sporty was off the road getting its gearbox fixed (no, I did not cause it to blow it up!). Instead I was taking the R60/5 with some of the northern girls. I got caught at a set of lights, with one of the girls riding barely ahead of me. As I put the Beemer into gear when the lights changed, the clutch cable broke with the bike stuck in gear. Having a 4WD and also a semi-trailer bearing down on you has a tendency to make your mind go blank, and I panicked.
The only other time I had a clutch cable break was when Mark (from SA) was riding my Beemer down Spit Road in Sydney. We were caught in the far lane and had to push it in gear across the traffic, which was an absolute nightmare. Unbelievably, I had a spare cable under the seat on that occasion which enabled Mark to get us back on the road. Anyway, the truckie jumped out of his rig and helped me get the bike out of gear, then pushed my motorcycle off the highway. You've got to love I truckies when the going gets tough. The 4WD changed lanes, nearly colliding with another car!
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p122
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 22, 2013, 08:59:00 AM
Three guys were riding through the Coffs Harbour district in the middle of the night. One young fellow happened to be behind the other two riders when he hit a 'roo. It was immediately apparent that he'd done some major damage to his leg, but amazingly hadn't come off his Harley.
The pressing problem was how he was going to pull over, lacking the strength in his legs to hold himself up without doing even more damage coming off the bike. Consequently he took off after his mates down a desolate country road, somehow catching up and then indicating to them that he was in big trouble. They were able to help him stop, whilst they supported his weight and the bike without the guy falling onto his obviously broken leg. The guys also organised/ getting him to hospital, along with all the other things needed to be done after coming off second best to a ‘roo. You can’t do without your mates!
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p127
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 23, 2013, 05:27:49 PM
I was making a fairly unsuccessful attempt to undo the oil dipstick when a guy who had done a U-turn pulled up to see if I needed a hand. He was towing an enclosed trailer with dirt bikes, and was obviously keen to help a fellow motorcyclist. I didn't have a problem as such, I just couldn't undo the oil thingummyjig. The guy came over, easily undoing the dipstick which I doing a wonderful job of tightening even more. I reassured him that I really wasn't that stupid, and he could have total faith that I would make the Territory in one piece (perhaps the bike as well). Since coming home my friend Glenn has given me some worldly advice which I shall remember forever more: “left - loosy, right – tighty”. Boy, did I feel like an incompetent fool!
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p129
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 24, 2013, 12:22:54 PM
My most common nocturnal activity seemed to be standing on the toilet seat in motels, peering out of the bathroom window to check whether my motorcycle was still there. With no steering lock or a chain with padlock as my security, I was worried that the Stroke 5 might be wheeled off in the dark.
Suddenly, I was awoken midway through the night by someone thumping loudly on my door. It took a moment to orientate myself as to where the heck I was. Logically I knew someone was there, as I hesitantly opened the door with the safety chain still on. However, the sight of a big shadowy figure in the door frame terrified me! I couldn't stop screaming hysterically, meanwhile the guy was trying to pacify and reassure me that he was from the neighbouring motel room. He was able to blurt out that my bike was on the ground, which seemed to calm me down enough to venture outside with him. Sure enough my motorcycle was spreadeagled in front of the unit as petrol poured out, with all my remaining belongings from the saddlebags scattered about. They had also broken into my neighbour’s unit but were disturbed midway through their attempted robbery. He had contacted the police. It was fortunate nothing obvious was missing from my bike. Especially lucky for me was the fact that the mongrels hadn’t thrown a match on the bike as a departing gesture. It is the only time I have been interviewed by the in my pyjamas.
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p136-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 25, 2013, 08:26:43 AM
My latest ride on the outfit was out to Nindigully Pub in Queensland for Rob Wynne's birthday bash. A big group of mostly off-road Beemer riders from Sydney, Newcastle and Brisbane were meeting up at the pub to help Rob celebrate another year down the gurgler...
The icing on the cake was a busload of girls turning up dressed to the nines in wedding and bridesmaid dresses obviously sourced from op shops, carefully coordinated with either stilettos or riding boots. They were on a long-distance pub crawl celebrating a hens' night. Priscilla, Queen of the Desert would have been proud as the girls piled out of the bus, under the watchful eye of their driver. He sported a red hard hat with a plastic cattle prod to protect himself from danger and help keep the ladies in line. Within a really short time, the bride-to-be was roaring off down the road as pillion on one of the Harleys. It became a familiar sight with the girls on the back of the bikes, their flowing dresses all pulled up out of harm's way.
The Perils Of Motorcycling  Alanna Gayko p157
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 26, 2013, 10:58:26 AM
"A pleasure," he said, shaking my hand. "Have a good, safe trip."
"The pleasure is mine," I said, and it was. I was finding out that one of the best things about a motorcycle trip is that people you would never meet otherwise will come up and talk to you. "Won't you be lonely?" some of my non-biker friends had asked before I left.
"I doubt it," I had said, and on the ride down I never was.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p23
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Streak on November 26, 2013, 08:44:09 PM
"Riding a motorcycle is like my yoga. It's a practice in mindfulness, being aware and in the moment"
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 27, 2013, 09:11:01 AM
Still, you wouldn't ride a bike if you didn't want to cultivate a bit of an outlaw status. I was working on my Entrance, one of the most important aspects of being a biker. You come into town and cruise slowly down Main Street- rump, rump, rump, cough-REVVvvv-rump- rump (obviously a high-powered machine, dangerous if not for your expert control)- and at the end of the street do a slow U-turn and come back to the cafe.
You back the bike up against the curb, taking long enough that you know all eyes are upon you, take off your helmet, put your sunglasses back on, and walk toward the door. You use the Strut: shoulders back, head high, just a hint of pelvic thrust You step inside the door and, chin still high, moving only your head, survey the room (even if it only has four tables). Then you take off your dark glasses and hook them in the left-breast pocket of your leather jacket the way fighter pilots do in the movies. Don't look. This is crucial. If you have to fumble for the pocket, you've blown it and you might as well get back on the bike and leave. Okay, by this point the men are cowed, the women trembling, and girls behind the counter moaning softly.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p26-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 28, 2013, 11:19:04 AM
Near the end I found my guide, a local in a red Dodge pickup truck who led me at 65 through a bunch of bends marked slow, and slowed to 25 for some that were not marked at all. I was happy to follow. I had learned a long time ago that on the back roads the fastest car would never be an out-of-state Porsche; it would be a dusty Ford Tempo with a bumper sticker from the hometown radio station. Horsepower was no match for local knowledge.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p29
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 29, 2013, 08:47:23 AM
Friends told me of their neighbour, a professional woman in her late forties who had started to ride. Short and soft spoken, she is not an immediately commanding presence. One Sunday during a ride she and her husband stopped at McDonald's. She was in full leathers and thought nothing of it until, with her burger and fries in hand, she had to get through the long food line-up to get to the ketchup station. She took a step forward and even before she could say "Excuse me," the line-up parted like the Red Sea. "It was wonderful," she said, "They thought I was a Biker!" Whether you're riding a cruiser or a dirt bike or a big touring rig, in the eyes of the world you're a bit of a hooligan or you wouldn't be out there. We reject it, we deny it, we explain at length that there is a difference between a Rider and a Biker, but we secretly relish it. We like the idea that we're mad, bad, and dangerous to know.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p33
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 30, 2013, 03:04:44 PM
Five minutes later none of it mattered. I found myself going a little faster, a little faster, a little faster.  My memory of the country is a blur- bright creek, slender pines- grabbed in laser-glimpses between corners. I tried to ride fast and stay off the brake, fast and smooth, using the Duke's linear power. I kept it in third- there it pulls hard all the way from 30 to 75 miles an hour, and when you back off it's like throwing out an anchor. This is why riders love big twins. Then I blew by a slow camper, snapped down my visor, and dived into a bend at 80- and found everythingoingintoslowmo. Instead of feeling fast it felt as if I could get up, do a tap dance on the tank, smoke a Havana cigar, get back down, and finish the corner with time for a snack. Glorious. Better than drugs.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p52-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 01, 2013, 02:47:21 PM
"Pull off when it starts to rain," the instructor had said at Safety School. "The road is slipperiest in the first fifteen minutes because the oil on the pavement floats on the water. After it gets washed off, the motorcycle will be stable on the wet asphalt. Be careful, though. If too much water collects in the grooves of the lane you may hydroplane."
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p84
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 02, 2013, 12:23:05 PM
The 300 miles to Roswell felt like 3,000. All day there was a 40-mile-an-hour wind coming out of Arizona and I felt as if I was wrestling with the lat pulldown bar of a weight machine. After lunch I rode for more than an hour without seeing another car. I didn't see a cow, though the land was fenced. I didn't even get bugs on my visor. Nothing, just the wind and the sage and the yellow- flowered cactus. I honked my horn every once in a while just to feel homey, and talked to myself inside my helmet. "Ain't nobody here," I told myself, "Nooooobuddy." The day was defined by wind and emptiness.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 03, 2013, 08:55:12 AM
Non-riders would always ask me, "Don't you think motorcycling s dangerous?" in the tone of a foregone conclusion. It could be, I agreed, but I was a conservative rider. Besides, I said, motorcycling is only one of a million ways you can die. You can just as easily go in your La-Z-Boy recliner. In the spring, or when I haven't been riding in a long time, I have a moment of fear thinking about what I'm going to do, but as soon as I'm up and riding, I'm fine. I would give the answer my father gave when people asked him, "Isn't mountain climbing dangerous?" "Sure," he said, "but at least you go doing something you like." Then in The Stone Diaries I read about a Canadian journalist named Pinky Fulham who was crushed to death when a soft-drink vending machine fell on him. He had been rocking it back and forth, trying to dislodge a stuck quarter. Apparently eleven North Americans per year are killed by overturned vending machines. The next time I approached a vending machine I did so warily. And the next time someone asked me about bikes being dangerous, I told them about Pinky.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p93-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 04, 2013, 11:05:29 AM
When I first put on a full-face helmet, I have a moment of claustrophobia. I can hear only my own breathing and I feel like one of those old-time deep-sea divers. The boots, jacket, and gloves feel cumbersome too- they're shaped all wrong for walking, but once you are on the bike, the gloves curl round the handgrips; the arms of the jacket flare out and forward, the wristbands are at your wrist instead of your fingertips; and the boots are snug onto the footpegs, reinforced toe under the gear lever. When you hit the starter, your breath merges with the sound of the bike, and once you're on the highway, the sound moves behind you, becoming a dull roar that merges with the wind noise, finally disappearing from consciousness altogether.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p124-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 05, 2013, 09:28:19 AM
Even if you ride without a helmet, you ride in a cocoon of white noise. You get smells from the roadside, and you feel the coolness in the dips and the heat off a rock face, but you don't get sound. On a bike, you feel both exposed and insulated. Try putting in earplugs: the world changes, you feel like a spacewalker. What I like best about motorcycle touring is that even if you have companions you can't talk to them until the rest stop, when you'll compare highlights of the ride. You may be right beside them, but you're alone. It is an inward experience.
I like the fact that 'listen' is an anagram of 'silent.'
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p125
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 06, 2013, 08:59:47 AM
They have begun using Ducati workers- "Ducati people"- rather than models in a sophisticated marketing campaign designed to hail you as a Ducati person.
We stopped first at the engine assembly. No robots in this factory: engines are made one at a time by one mechanic. She- and it is mostly women technicians in this section- moved with the engine and a tray or parts as it travelled down the line. The workers reminded me of typesetters, hands instinctively choosing the right piece from the case.
The bikes outside had led me to expect a bunch of lean, mean sport riders, but these looked like moms making money for their families. We moved on to the line where complete bikes were taking shape.
I wondered which person had assembled my engine. Maybe the blond woman with her hair pulled back. And who fit the engine into the frame? Maybe one of the older men tuning the finished bikes.  Each bike is made, in effect, by a family of workers.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p154
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 07, 2013, 08:42:17 AM
"And all the bikes are still built here, on the same site as the original factory. We have produced only forty thousand bikes, where Honda has produced eight million. Ducati is like the pumpkin at Halloween or the Christmas tree at Christmas." I think what Livio meant is that you could not imagine the motorcycle world without Ducati, that Ducati crystallized the spirit of motorcycling. Certainly part of the mystique of Ducati is that everything they produce derives from a race-bred engine and a race-tested frame.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p159
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 08, 2013, 10:57:25 AM
“That was it. And it was stable. One time coming back from the coast through the desert in Nevada- you know the Big Basin?- you come over a rise and you can see the road stretching away for miles and miles. No turns. Well, I'd always wanted to ride at 100 miles an hour for an hour. To cover 100 miles in one hour. And I did, I put my head down on the tank bag and just held it at 100. No one else out there. Straight across the desert." Will smiled, and for an instant I could see the young librarian speeding into the empty space, stretching the moment to an hour he would have all his life.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p174
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 09, 2013, 08:42:46 AM
My reading on Lawrence and Ulysses had naturally led to a little research on Lawrence and motorcycles, and in one sense his death a bike seemed inevitable. "Its my great game on a really pot-holed road to open up to 70 miles an hour or so and feel the machine gallop," he wrote to George Brough in a letter praising the firm's motorcycles. He told Charlotte Shaw how he rode down from Edinburgh averaging 65 miles an hour, hitting 90 miles an hour for 2 or 3 miles on end, "leaping" past Morris Oxfords doing a staid 30 miles an hour.
He called his motorcycles Boanerges- "sons of thunder"- and the thunderous riding was a compulsion: "When my mood gets too hot... I pull out my motor-bike and hurl it top-speed through these unfit roads for hour after hour." Like the pilots after the Second World War who formed the biker gangs in the United States, Lawrence felt his nerves "jaded and gone near dead, so that nothing less than hours of voluntary danger will prick them into life.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p176
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 10, 2013, 09:12:52 AM
Once off the bike I knew I should stop. I got directions to the Energy Park Inn, and walked out to the bike already thinking of how cool the room would be and forgetting how top-heavy the bike becomes with a full tank. I swung it off the sidestand and-  aaurghh...  thump! tinkle-tinkle- I dropped it. The brake lever knob skittered across the tarmac. The saddlebags kept the bike from coming down on my leg, but gas was spilling out around me. I struggled but couldn't get the bike up (which way do you turn the bars? there's a trick to getting bikes up but I couldn't remember).
"Excuse me?" I called to the guy at the next pump. He had his back turned and I was muffled by my helmet. "Excuse me!..." I said louder (god how embarrassing- it's like those commercials: "Help, fallen and can't get up"- maybe they should have emergency beepers for elderly motorcyclists). "Help!!" I shouted.
"Oh .. .oh ... sorry," he said, grabbed the handlebar, and together we got the bike up. I was really shaken. Not because of the bike falling over but because the fall made me realize how far gone I was. I had no business riding around the block, much less blasting into the desert sun at 80 miles an hour with my brain completely poached. L was lucky I had fallen over at a gas station.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p190
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 11, 2013, 10:01:38 AM
I had a lesson in aerodynamics that morning. As a car driver I had always laughed at semi trailers that sported swooping curves on their mammoth fenders or those spoilers on the top of the cab that made them look like bald-headed wrestlers. As if that would make a difference. Yet one of the first things you discover as a motorcyclist is that it's the shape of the truck, not the size, that makes a difference. Cube vans throw a fat blast of air that feels like it could punch you straight back off your bike. Somewhere west of Artesia I met an old moving van, completely squared off, like a brick wall chugging across the plain at 55 miles an hour. I hunched down a little, as I always do, when poum his draft hit me like someone swinging a sandbag. If I had not been holding on tight I would have been in the ditch. Those rounded corners on modern vans do make a difference.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p191
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 12, 2013, 12:44:02 PM
Later, at a popular culture conference in Albuquerque, I would learn that helmets were not just a choice, they were a corner-stone of American freedom. The last session was "Biker Stigmatization" and by this point in the conference the room was divided: bikers on the left, riders on the right. I had already learned that I wasn't a "biker." I'm a "rider." Maybe just a wannabe writer who occasionally rides. I wasn't sure. These distinctions were becoming difficult.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p207
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 13, 2013, 10:19:19 AM
The presenters talked about bikers being abused and exploited, mocked "hand-wringers" like Mothers Against Drunk Driving and other safety groups, and argued that bikers were still the victims of systemic harassment. Then the big bruiser in front got up to respond. He had sat quietly through the whole conference, but at well over 6 feet and 300 pounds, with a Mohawk haircut slicked into pony tail, and a face that looked like 20 miles of bad road, he'd been hard to miss. He wore his riding boots outside his jeans and a leather vest commemorating past rides and dead comrades.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p207-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 14, 2013, 09:18:57 AM
"Ah jist wanna thank y'all for havin' a Dumb-Ass Biker to one a these here academic conferences," he drawled. I missed his name "That's Sputnik," someone whispered behind me. He was head of the Motorcycle Rights Association of Texas. A Texan and a biker, you can't get more independent than that. He began denouncing mandatory helmet laws- which Texas had recently repealed- and told of government harassment. Of how at the conference of Motorcycle Rights in New York the delegates were under constant surveillance by the FBI, the local police, even the chambermaids. One delegate was arrested for possession of cocaine, and then released.
"Why? Because she, like I do, brushes her teeth with baking soda and salt. She was guilty of possession of baking soda! And then it came out that the maids had been paid $50- $50!- for each item that they found that might be illegal. A clear violation of the Constitution." Americans are always talking about the Constitution. Sputnik was warming to his point, "Ain't no such thing as a biker- friendly politician. And these new rich bikers? They ain't gonna help us. They don't care about motorcycles. They're just toys to them If the government puts too many restrictions on 'em, why they'll just go on to their next toy- a ... a hayng-glider or sumthin'." We all laughed.
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p208
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 15, 2013, 11:29:30 AM
"The only good thing 'bout these born-again bikers is it means more hardly used bikes on the market for Real Bikers to pick up a cheap prices." Muttered yeahs! rumbled through the audience and we all had visions of picking up a Harley softtail for ten grand from some soft-ass dermatologist. Yeah!
"We don't need biker-friendly politicians, we need Bikers in office. We need the fire in the guts, the Fire-In-The-Guts of the real biker!' He clenched his fist on the upper slope of his belly. "Because if there's anything that's going to save America, to stop the decline and save this country, to save this civilization, it's the Spirit of the Biker."
Riding With Rilke  Ted Bishop  p208-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 16, 2013, 12:56:42 PM
There's something about being alone on a bike, cruising down the road in the silence of a loud engine and pounding wind.  In these moments, everything can seem perfect.  We are elevated from the pressures of life, removed from the responsibilities.  No one and nothing can touch us.  You begin to wonder why the ride ever has to end, why you have to return to things the way they are.  You wonder why the rest of your life can't be like this.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p9-10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 17, 2013, 09:27:58 AM
Look at fear on a bike.  We are confronted by the possibility of serious bodily damage every time we go for a cruise.  Now I believe the possibility for danger exists equally in driving a four-wheel vehicle as it does on a bike (see the chapter on karma), but I’ll be a bit mundane and simplistic for the moment.  Unless you are a jerk, and I've seen a lot out there riding fast motorcycles, you probably respect your machine, appreciate its power and its limits, and cruise down the road within this power/limit grid.  Depending on your personality and state of mind, you have your own unique fear threshold.  For some people, like me, it falls around fifty miles per hour on wet pavement near the ocean-side S-curves north of Malibu.  For others it's 167 miles per hour on the drag strip in Pomona.  Still others experience it idling at the traffic light.  We all have our fear threshold.  If you don't think you do, then I'll guess that yours is with being truthful.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p29-30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: StinkyPete on December 17, 2013, 08:40:32 PM
There's something about being alone on a bike, cruising down the road in the silence of a loud engine and pounding wind.  In these moments, everything can seem perfect.  We are elevated from the pressures of life, removed from the responsibilities.  No one and nothing can touch us.  You begin to wonder why the ride ever has to end, why you have to return to things the way they are.  You wonder why the rest of your life can't be like this.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p9-10

Thanks Biggles.  I can very much relate to this quote, and a copy is now pinned to my office noticeboard.   Those very same evocative thoughts creep into my mind within a few days of getting home from a long trip, and I'll have itchy feet to get back on the road again.  :thumbs
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 18, 2013, 09:53:29 AM
I know that when I ride, I face my ability to be "present" in the moment.  Maybe it's second nature by now, but I like to feel it for a second, sitting on the bike as it's warming up, feeling how exposed I am, how sensitive the controls are, how close I am to the pavement.  It wakes me up and brings me to a place of sheer connection with everything about who I am, my mood, my fragility and my incredible sensory system that even allows me to ride this 650-pound beast.  This is the Ride.  That split-second sensation that brings you into the present moment, a moment that goes by with a flash... yet is eternal.  That's what a bike does for me.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 18, 2013, 09:54:09 AM
I don't always have a specific destination when I begin a ride.  I let the mood of the moment dictate my direction.  Do want to find solace in a desolate back road?  Do I want to be an exhibitionist?  Do I want the challenge of negotiating hairpin turns through winding back roads?  No matter what the discussion, it's all good!
At this point in my life, the rush doesn't come from speed; it comes from the freedom. I enjoy getting glances from a passer-by or cruising through a crowd.  I love accelerating through a turn on a mountain road or just tooling around the neighbourhood.  What I am trying to say is that the feeling of what the ride represents is as important as the ride itself.  The freedom is my fuel if you will.
When I return home from one of my journeys, I feel exhilarated!  Could it be from the wind pounding my face and chest?  Or does this feeling come from the clearing of my mind?  Am I exhilarated by the physical or mental stimulation?  Who cares?  The important thing is that I can't wait for my next ride!
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p98 (out of sequence- never mind!)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 19, 2013, 09:58:03 AM
So you just ride your bike to commute to work and you say it's only transportation... or it's just a hobby on weekends... or it's just a bike for heaven's sake, get off my case.  Well, that's my point. That's how mundane the rest of our lives are as well.  If you can't see the awesome beauty of nature, the depth of the Ride when you ride a bike, when the hell are you going to see it?  Somehow I'm not convinced that humans can live their lives without sensing the connection with their ultimate nature, with the true essence of who we are.  Sure, many people do, but they are the ones who are bitter, or hopeless or numb... and ultimately unhappy.  Happiness is a real option in this world, not just a fantasy.  Sure things suck sometimes, but they are pretty damn good sometimes, too.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p31-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Old Steve on December 19, 2013, 08:31:34 PM
Just had to post this.  In 1977, my wife and I left New Zealand on our OE, we took a multi-hop air ticket to Fiji, Rarotonga, Tahiti, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Seattle, Spokane, Missoula Montana, Minneapolis-St Paul, Washington, Boston, Madrid, Toledo and finally London.  We left meaning to be away for a year, and came home four years later.

While in Montana we hired a car and drove through the Glacier National Park over the "Going to the Sun Road" across the Rockies.  What a road, and one day I'm going to go back and ride across it on a bike.

I have started to read Mike Hyde's "Twisting Throttle America" and he's just reached - you guessed it - the "Going to the Sun Road" in Montana.

"My route in Montana was more or less one big loop, crossing back into Idaho near Missoula.  The reason for the loop was Glacier.  Or, more specifically, the Going to the Sun Road.  Even the name evokes adventure.  As well as bridges and dams, I have an obsession for challenging roads.  The Going to the Sun Road traversing Glacier National Park was to be an excellent introduction.  RVs and trailers are banned, and there are virtually no guardrails as avalanches wipe them away.  Built in 1933, it's open only in the summer as it takes 10 weeks to snowplough.  Remember that road from the opening credits of "The Shining"?  Jack Nicholson driving his VW up the mountain road towards the haunted hotel?  That's the easy side of the Going to the Sun.  The Sunday-drive bit.  The challenging section is the climb up to Logan Pass from the western end.  Heaven's Peak, Bird Woman Falls, Weeping Wall, Haystack Butte, Rising Sun.  Even the names of the feature on the way up sound epic.

"At West Glacier I paid my national park entrance fee of $12 and rode in.  For miles the road tracked along the shore of Lake McDonald, with only glimpses through the trees towards the huge granite mountains ahead.  And then, abruptly, the road started to climb in a series of switchbacks, clearing the tree line and plunging me into a staggering mountain landscape.  Vista upon vista of massive, craggy cliff faces and sheer rock walls were almost too hard to take in.  The drop-off a few feet to my right at the road edge was hair-raising.  The few cars I came up behind were crawling up in first gear.  None of the drivers were looking at the view.  Much of the road was one-lane, and cars were hugging the rock wall away from the precipitous drop.  I had to wait for pull-over points to overtake.  Waterfalls cascaded over green, mossy cliffs, and the whole landscape looked primeval.  I was stopping in the middle of the roadway frequently to take photos.  At one point I came up behind a water tanker spraying water over a dusty unpaved section.  Luckily a small road tunnel caused the tanker to pull over and I got past."

Twisting Throttle America, Mike Hyde.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 20, 2013, 09:00:59 AM
We got back on the road after refuelling at the single-pump station next to the bar.  This is about as much action as Wilitz gets all year.  Riders have an unspoken honour at pumps.  Even with long lines of bikers waiting to get their three or four buck's worth of fuel, there's a respect and etiquette that is effortless.  At a pump like this, the attendant has to trust you tell him the right amount; you just can't wait to reset the pump for each bike.  And riders typically round their payment up to the next dollar amount as a courtesy.  This is just the way it's done.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p42
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 21, 2013, 09:22:15 AM
It's amazing what we carry from our parents in so many unconscious and intangible ways.  My love for motorcycles began when I was a youngster, drawing pictures of Harleys and imagining the day when I would get one of my own.  I'd talk to my dad about it and he was always a bit neutral, not influencing me one way or the other.  When, at twelve, I finally saved up enough paper route money for a little used dirt bike, I went to my dad to help me get one.  At first he was against it, but with my tenacity, he finally gave in.  I was jazzed to make this dream come true, and my father got into it as time when on.  My younger brother, Jimmy, became the recipient of the bikes I outgrew, and he took to them like a fish to water.  He's gone so far as to rebuild antique Indians and is a meticulous bike mechanic and president of his local motorcycle club.  One day recently, he showed me an old picture he dug up in my father's drawer.  It showed my twenty-one-year-old father sitting on his 1947 Harley.  We both had a good laugh about it- something my dad never revealed.  Turns out he had several in his day.  Maybe an example of how the unseen forces of the past influence us in our present life?
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p44
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 22, 2013, 09:07:21 AM
I had to ride the bike home in the pea-soup atmosphere.  Intense, with zero visibility, it was like I was shining the headlights into a mirror three feet away.  The road was slick, like snakeskin.  At the last leg up to my house, way on top of the ridge, where the road is almost vertical, unlit and unpaved, I just said into the darkness, "God, please help me tonight" and it was awesome.  I blasted right through the fog layer, going up so steeply and so quickly.  I got to the top, to my house, and looking around, it was like the bike and I were floating just atop a sea of dense white fog that extended in every direction.  The only other thing I could see was the mountain range a couple miles across the canyon, peaks emerging like icebergs, penetrating toward a sky slowly filling with stars.... heaven's grace for another trippy ride.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 23, 2013, 07:24:31 AM
When you shed the images of who you think you are, you are free.  When you shed the restraints that come from what other people expect of you, you are free.
Isn't that one reason why people like to ride motorcycles?  No restraints, no safety net, nothing to hold you back?  An image of singularity, independence and total connection with the Universe… freedom.  It's not the only path to this experience, it's just one that works for me and the others that groove with it.  The question is, what's your motorcycle?  What promotes your freedom? What's your Ride?
These metaphors of life all paint the same picture.  They all converge on freedom.  If you aren't free then you are constantly trying to escape.  I see it all the time in people.  It's the "thank God it's Friday" routine, the mass exodus on holidays, the constant need to "get out" of something or from someone.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p81-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 24, 2013, 10:40:10 AM
Though the Ride is ultimately an individual experience, it can't be done alone.  This is the paradox of life on this planet.   We only discover the truth of who we are through others.  It always takes others to help us uncover our potential.  The brotherhood that exists among riders is legend.  How such a solitary event as riding a motorcycle can foster community spirit, deep ties and friendships is astounding.  I constantly see how bike riders find their personal freedom through being responsible to the club or group they belong to.  This appeals to our most basic tribal instincts.  I just heard about how an enormous group of Turkish bikers on the island of Cyprus just stormed the Greek border in a life-threatening attempt to make a political statement.  They acted from their sense of duty and faced a hostile army aiming machine guns at them.  Everywhere I travel, I discover that bikers have assembled and created associations to further their interests, whether it's to go on group rides, become politically active or just honour the brand-name bikes that they have become attached to.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 25, 2013, 10:56:32 AM
Why don't I feel the same while driving a car?  A car has way too much insulation.  I can't hear the birds, the engine; I can't smell the fragrances that are so abundant when I'm riding a motorcycle.  Most of my body goes into a sleep state while driving a car; on my motorcycle, every part of me feels alive- especially my brain.  I am processing information, controlling my hands and feet, and absorbing sounds, smells and sights that tell me I am alive and that I am an active participant in my life.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p111
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 26, 2013, 08:30:52 AM
When I ride I become exhilarated.  The adrenaline soars as I feel the power beneath me.  Sometimes, I can be at peace with the world on my motorcycle when a cruel thought invades my pleasure- "It could happen now."
“It” means another accident.  I realise "It" is my own doubt caused by negative thinking.  "It" spoils my pleasure.  I quickly push "It" out of my mind so that I may concentrate on my surroundings and the motorcycle beneath me.  Mental balance allows me to enjoy the ride.  Without a positive outlook, fear invades.  In turn, the fear steals my concentration.  Without concentration, I know I'm danger of having another accident.  Without concentration, I can have no pleasure.
It takes strong mental discipline in order for me to concentrate and enjoy the ride.  At the end of each ride, I celebrate my victory over fear and negative thinking.  I feel awe at the power of my mind and the forces that allow me to control "It" rather than "It" control me.  I feel more confident, powerful and ready to accept new challenges.  I know that I can do anything I allow my mind to imagine.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p122-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 27, 2013, 08:39:26 AM
I can recall getting up at dawn and pulling out in the damp grey chill of a fall morning to see a gopher munching on greens along the side of the road and a hawk soaring overhead.  In a car, I would have been warm, insulated, surrounded by metal.  But through that band of windshield, I would not have been even aware of the hawk soaring over the roof of the car or of the gopher.
In a wealthy country like Canada, we are too often insulated in our warm comfortable houses and cars.  With such comforts, it is easy to lose awareness of what surrounds us in nature and how we impact on the environment.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p132-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 28, 2013, 11:30:37 AM
The motorcycle is not designed for the city.  It does not like to be constantly stop and go, or to be stationary.  It is meant to move.  And like Tai Chi, when that energy is being expended, it more easily managed.  The motorcycle longs to be moving on the open road, or cutting through forests and mountain passes.  As one riding a motorcycle, I have learned that I need to that energy and to use the path of least resistance to keep the energy flowing.
Tao Of The Ride  Garri Garripoli p133
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 29, 2013, 07:04:35 AM
Skipping a few details, suffice it to say that one day twenty years of marriage, Sheila calmly said, "I'd like you to leave. Go find your happiness. It's not here."
Two days later I was staying in a motel, two weeks later in my own apartment. When the assets and liabilities were decided, the divorce was final. In one of my fits of inspiration or insanity, (they often resemble each other and I get them confused), I decided to sell almost all of my possessions, except the motorcycle. By shedding my entanglements, I thought I'd be free to search for the elusive meaning of life, i.e., happiness. I knew the answer was out there waiting to be found.
I fantasized about riding my cycle to California and mile by mile becoming enlightened to the truths of the world. Yes, in my ecstatic moments, I saw myself as America's saviour. I was making this journey not only for myself but also for every unhappy being in the world, for every individual who hated his job and for the down- trodden and humbled masses. "America, I hear you calling and I'm on my way."
In my depressed moments, I knew I was running away. I had no idea where I was running to, but that didn't matter. Running just felt very good.
Only two negatives stood in my way. The first was that I got terrible leg cramps after riding my motorcycle for as little as fifteen minutes. The second was that I have no sense of direction. For most of my life I lived in a town with a population of three thousand people and one traffic light. Still, I kept a map on the front seat of my car.
Motorcycle Enlightenment  Charles Sides p2-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 30, 2013, 12:43:31 PM
The receptionist at the auto club doesn’t understand that I only want directions to the auto club. "When I get there," I explain to her, "you can give me directions to California."
I carefully write down her instructions and take them the motorcycle. Where do I put the directions so I can check them as I ride? A flash of insight tells me to get masking tape at the apartment rental office so I can affix them to the- I can never think of the name of that dial, the one that shows RPMs. I never use it anyway. Actually, I don't know what it's for, so I follow my impulse and tape the directions on it.
The motorcycle is packed with my few remaining possessions. I get on and I'm off to find America. But first I must find the auto club. The AAA sign is right where the receptionist said it would be and I pull into the parking lot. Balancing the cycle carefully, I try to pull it up onto the stand, but it's too heavy. The kickstand is facing uphill so I can't use it. I back out of the space, turn around and back in. This time the kickstand is aiming downhill and seems to hold the weight of the cycle. I carefully get off, lock my helmet under the seat, and go inside.
Motorcycle Enlightenment  Charles Sides p5-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 31, 2013, 10:46:05 AM
Instantly, I know not to tell him that I'm searching for America and enlightenment. With a moment's deliberation I say, "I'm heading for California. May I have directions?"
He turns to get maps. Safe, I think. Even though I lost my number, I handled that part okay.
"Where in California? Panic! I hadn't thought about that. "Los Angeles," I decide quickly.
"Nice place. My brother lives there."
“I'll tell him you said hello if I see him.”
He just looks at me.
Too much, I remind myself. Relax. He lays out a map of the United States and highlights lines. "Take Route 30 to 83 to the PA Turnpike. Follow the Turnpike to Route 70. Take Route 70 the whole way to Utah. Then 15 and 10 to Los Angeles."
"That's it? I won't even have to tape that on the tachometer. Tachometer!" I say with great enthusiasm. "That's the name of the dial I couldn't think of earlier."
He waits patiently.
"Thanks," I say and leave. As I walk away I hear him call number 48. Instinctively I reach into my pocket to check if that's number and pull out number 47. Where had it been? I turn back towards the counter to show him I really did have the number, but second thoughts intervene. Somehow I don't think he cares. I put the number back in my pocket and walk outside. The cycle is still standing. Things are looking good.
Motorcycle Enlightenment  Charles Sides p6-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 01, 2014, 10:10:31 AM
Nevertheless, here I am on Route 30 heading... east, according to a sign I just passed. California is definitely west. Even I know something's wrong. I take the first exit and pull into a convenience store. With helmet still on I go into the store and ask the clerk for directions to the PA Turnpike. She looks at me strangely so I take off the helmet and try again.
"May I have directions to the PA Turnpike?"
"Route 30 to 83," she says.
"East or west on Route 30?"
"West.
"Darn.
"Pardon?"
"Nothing." I hesitate a moment, then ask, "How far am I from the Turnpike?"
"About an hour," she answers.
Four cramps, I think.
Motorcycle Enlightenment  Charles Sides p10-11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 02, 2014, 11:56:56 AM
Suddenly I come around a turn and spot the twin towers of the Delaware Memorial Bridge. My heart beats faster. I start up the bridge. I look straight ahead and realize I have no idea where I'm going in life. I look to my right and see nothing but sky and water. A strong wind could suddenly blow the cycle and me over the side. Meaningless life before me and possible death beside me. What a choice. I keep riding.
Motorcycle Enlightenment  Charles Sides p12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 03, 2014, 10:33:06 AM
Rolling off a boat on a motorcycle into a foreign land is one of the most exciting experiences I know. No matter where it is in the world: freewheeling down the ramp, the metallic clank that marks your arrival, and your first glimpse of a strange land. Everything looks different, sounds different, even smells different - you feel different.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 04, 2014, 08:42:52 AM
It was around this time that I was given a significant piece of advice. Naturally, plenty of opinions start flying around when you decide to do something like this, usually along the lines of “DON”T!” from people who watch a lot of television. But this pearl of wisdom, given to me by a world-traveller friend of mine with thousands of miles under his belt, was:
Make it a mission. Don’t just meander here and there. State your goal before you leave, whether it be to motorcycle around the world, or from A to B, or whatever. But this sense of purpose, even though it’s self-imposed, is very important in keeping you focused.
Now I must admit I scoffed a bit at first as it sounded rather too regimented and organised- all the things I wanted to get away from- but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 05, 2014, 12:42:08 PM
Although it was many years later that I finally got round to acquiring motorcycle licence, the obsession with all things noisy, greasy and rocking had never gone away, and against the advice of experienced and, frankly, sensible motorcycling friends, I cut my biking teeth on a 650cc 1963 BSA. This scheme initially involved more gnashing than cutting of teeth, but after a series of “character-building” breakdowns, accidents, electrical failures, oil leaks, snapped chains and the many miles of obligatory pushing associated with British bike ownership, (wo)man finally triumphed over machine and the suitably shiny black and chrome BSA became a trusty friend, providing me with many happy
road miles.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p14
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 07, 2014, 07:49:36 AM
Most importantly, I wanted a bike that could go anywhere, that would be a friend, not a foe, in a tricky situation, and whose paintwork I didn’t have to worry about scratching. Cheap and cheerful were my watchwords and after much deliberation I decided to fly in the face of perceived wisdom and opted for a 225cc trail bike: the Yamaha XT225 Serow. It was small, light, economical and named after a stocky little mountain deer. What more could I ask for? What I wasn’t prepared for were the howls of derision and hoots of laughter from those who considered themselves in the know.
“You’re going to do it on a 225 dirt bike?” they would exclaim. “I pity your arse!”
“Sixteen thousand miles? At fifty miles an hour!” spluttered another.
“Fifty-five,” I corrected him.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p15-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 08, 2014, 01:36:24 PM
But for some reason that I still can’t fathom, the need to keep moving was stronger than the need to keep warm. The truckers howled with laughter as I donned my extreme-weather clothing. I’d picked up a new piece of kit in a gas station, the Emergency Poncho, ninety-nine cents for a see-through yellow plastic cape that I’d been saving for a day like this. Surely, this was just the kind of emergency it was intended for. To complement my new look I had also taken to wearing a pair of rubber washing-up gloves over leather ones. Like a low-rent Caped Crusader, I trundled off into the snow, a mass of billowing yellow plastic flapping noisily behind me. Ten miles down the road my super hero outfit hung in tatters around my shoulders; this was clearly more than a ninety-nine-cent emergency.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p44
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 09, 2014, 10:36:35 AM
It wasn’t until I woke up in the alien comfort of a family friend’s guest bedroom at one o’clock the next afternoon, utterly exhausted and craving a hearty dose of healthy fruit and veg, that I realised I’d knocked out Anchorage to Vancouver in ten non-stop days, running on pure adrenalin, gas station coffee and maple syrup pancakes. Is this what Merle Haggard meant by “White Line Fever"? I had it bad. If I carried on at this rate, I'd be in Ushuaia in a couple of months and back home before I knew what had happened. It was time to slow down the pace.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p52
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: HunterTodd on January 09, 2014, 12:36:25 PM
This is a quote from my Harley riding mate Dave on our trip. It was 7 am and 8 degrees with about thirty knots of breeze directly on the  nose somewhere on the Federal Highway near Canberra.

"If someone would stop right now and offer to swap their car for my Harley I'd take it."

Of course I empathised with his predicament but I didn't hav the heart to tell him I was perfectly comfortable snuggled behind my raised screen  with the heated hand grips on!
Some Harley riders really suffer for their art!!
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on January 09, 2014, 06:05:15 PM
8 degrees and you had your heated hand grips on? Mate, what you going to do when it really gets cold????   :crackup


 :bl11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: HunterTodd on January 09, 2014, 07:03:47 PM
Swap the bike for a car like my Harley mate!
The problem was it was 42 when we left and we didn't expect cold weather so we weren't prepared for it.

I guess I'd have to admit to being a fair weather rider though. Does that mean I will get kicked of the site???

The way I look at is it at my stage in life if it ain't fun I ain't doin it!! Besides where I am we have so much good weather I don't need to ride in the bad!!!!!!!
 
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 10, 2014, 08:50:46 AM
After half an hour of tinkering, fiddling and fruitless kick-starting in the scorching heat, we were still stationary and she was at her wits end.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with it. We’ll never get out of here!” she exclaimed miserably. “Well have to sleep by the side of the road.”
“We’re at the top of a slope here, I’ll try bump-starting it if you want,” I offered. I climbed on to her bike, selected second gear, and with the clutch pulled in, freewheeled down the track descended the mountain. I quickly picked up speed and as I released the clutch, sure enough the engine roared into life. “Hurrah!” I shouted, giving Rachel the thumbs up with my left hand. But my moment of celebration coincided with the front wheel hitting a patch of deep sand at the bottom of the slope. I skidded out of control and before I realised what was happening, I had slammed her bike straight into the mountainside, smashing up the front end, snapping the mudguard and sustaining a few minor injuries of my own.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p119
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 11, 2014, 09:30:03 AM
There followed some pointing (from me), some translating (from Rachel) and attempts at English from the group of eager onlookers. But there was no need for any of this garbled explanation. Che knew just what to do and it certainly didn’t involve ordering parts from Yamaha. Judging by most of the traffic we had encountered on our journey through Mexico, the national approach to vehicle maintenance was “keep it going, amigo!” This mentality combined with a generous squirt of sealant meant I was up and running again in less than half an hour. Back home they might call it a bodge, but if it was good enough for Che, it was good enough for me.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p136
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 12, 2014, 10:48:46 AM
“Aaaaaah,” sighed Jose, turning to me with a broad smile, suddenly composed, “esta bien. Now, you come with and we do the paperwork.“
Ah yes, the paperwork.
The paperwork?
“Paperwork!” I yelped. The forklift was in mid air, the bike was almost in the plane.
“STOP! STOP!” I shouted, tearing down the runway. The men turned to look at me, pegging it towards them, waving my arms and yelling as they loaded the bike into the hold.
“My papers, passport” I gasped, “they are on the bike.” I was sure I was in big trouble, but the men burst out laughing. “Tranquilo, chica, tranquilo,” they chuckled, lowering my motorcycle to the ground. I shuffled back across the runway towards Jose, feeling rather foolish, but he was very nice about it and made me a strong cup of coffee in his office as I stared out of the window, watching the plane lift my bike into the clouds.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p206
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 13, 2014, 08:40:07 AM
By the time the night was through, Ricardo, Sjaak and I had formed our own rebel splinter group and the following day we forsook the organised Harley Riders Pig Roast for a day out riding a stretch of the Ecuador National Rally course and generally hanging out and talking nonsense. With our Dutch, English and Ecuadorian number plates, we made an unlikely international trio. Ricardo, a swarthy giant on his big rally bike, Sjaak crouched low over sports bike, blond hair dangling down the back of his skin-tight leathers, and me, spluttering along on my little dirt bike, apparent disparity being no barrier to us revelling in the beautiful Andean scenery and plenty of good-natured banter.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p227-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 14, 2014, 11:00:57 AM
But to join in the hanger racing, it was necessary to know the regs. Firstly, I had to understand that an awful lot of white paint had been wasted creating lane markings on Lima’s roads. Secondly, where traffic lights were concerned, red and green were one and the same. Thirdly, I mustn’t use my indicators, it only confused the natives. Finally, and most importantly, I must sound my horn at all times.
It took me a little while to work out these basic rules and initially my heart was in my mouth as I tentatively weaved my way through the madness. It was only when I reached the centre of the city to discover four square miles of twisty, narrow streets snarled up in furious gridlock that I realised if I was going to get anywhere I had to start acting like a local.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p245-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 15, 2014, 11:04:09 AM
But the winds were worse than the day before, and without warning a violent gust would regularly whisk my bike round by ninety degrees, sending me careering across the road, sliding and skidding in the gravel, banging through potholes and eventually off the road altogether. I soon devised a technique to deal with these incidents by simply steering the bike in the direction the wind forced me, sending me plummeting down the steep bank or flying for yards across the scrubby plain until I could come to a controlled stop.
This survival method worked well enough until such an occasion coincided with Rachel overtaking me on my left. As a furious squall rushed in from the west, spinning my bike around, the front wheel drove slap bang into her back wheel. I crashed. She looked around to see what had happened. She crashed. It was a comical sight; the two of us sprawled on the ground next to our supine motorcycles. “Are you OK?” I yelled, crawling across the gravel towards her.
She called something back at me but the sound of the wind rendered our voices inaudible. We dragged ourselves towards each other on all fours, still shouting silently into the wind, and set about picking up the bikes. With them and us upright once again, we attempted to top up our fuel tanks with the contents of my jerrycan, but to no avail. The wind sprayed the petrol into our faces, on to our clothes and all over the bikes. And then once more, straight off the Pacific Ocean, a howling beast of a gust slammed Rachel’s bike to the dirt, the filler cap still open, precious gas disappearing into the dry earth. Gasping for breath, exhausted and aching, we lifted her bike from the ground for the second time and sure enough, another vicious blast screamed across the plains, this time sending Rachel herself flying to the ground.
Lois On The Loose  Lois Pryce p345-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 16, 2014, 10:11:12 AM
Exhausted and desolated, I flew back to Toronto, staying there just long enough to organize the house and put it on the market, with more help from family and friends, then got away to the house on the lake, still not knowing what I was going to do. Before she died, Jackie had given me a clue, saying, "Oh, you'll just go travelling on your motorcycle," but at that time I couldn't even imagine doing that. But as the long, empty days and nights of that dark summer slowly passed, it began to seem like the only thing to do.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 17, 2014, 09:01:56 AM
In any case, I was now setting out on my motorcycle to try to figure out what kind of person I was going to be, and what kind of world I was going to live in. Throughout that first day on the road, as I traced the rain-slick highway north across the rocky face of Quebec, my shaky resolve would be tested a few times. Tense and shivering, peering through the turbulent wash of spray behind a lumber truck for a chance to pass, more than once I thought about packing it in. "Who needs this? I'm really not having fun, and don't think I'm strong enough to deal with this right now. Why not turn around and go back to the house by the lake, hide there a little longer?"
But no. That too would be a perilous road. When I allowed myself to consider turning back, the thought that kept me riding on was, "Then what?" For over a month I had tried living there alone, with occasional visits from friends to help take me out of myself, and I had still felt myself beginning to slip into a deep, dark hole. Various stimulants and depressants could help me get through the days and nights, but as I had recently written to a friend, "That's okay for a temporary escape hatch, but it's no kind of a life." I had tried the Hermit mode, now it was time to try the Gypsy mode.
I tried not to think of what I would do if that didn't work.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 18, 2014, 03:06:18 PM
Setting off through the forests of north western Ontario, the lonely road cast its hypnotic, soothing effect over my mood. The steady droning of the engine, the constant wind noise, the cool, forest-scented air, and my visual fixation on the road ahead occupied most of my senses, while my mind wandered above its monitoring function into the fields of memory.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 19, 2014, 08:40:17 AM
Parking my motorcycle in front of a motel at the end of a long day road could certainly be sweet, like finally exhaling after holding my breath all day, but best of all was setting out in the morning. Whatever torments night had brought; whatever weather the new day threw at me, when I loaded up the bike and swung my leg over the saddle, my whole perspective changed. Focus tightened into the mechanics and mentality of operating the machine, and awareness contracted to that demanding paradigm. As I let in the clutch and turned the throttle, my world-view expanded as I moved into a whole new paradigm of landscapes, highways, and wildlife. Infinite possibilities.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p41-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 20, 2014, 03:02:59 PM
September now, you know. It could snow any day. What you gonna do then?"
"Well, load the bike on a truck and haul it out, I guess. I don't know." I began to think of him as Mister Dismal, though time would prove me wrong. His manner was only the voice of the "old Alaska hand," impatient with naive travellers from Down South. When I mentioned my concern about the front brake pads, he asked the year of the bike. I told him it was three years old, and he said he didn't think they could be worn yet. Then he asked "How many miles on it?", and when I told him "just over 40,000,” his tone softened. "Oh, you're a rider. You're a real rider." Evidently I was now worthy of respect, and he agreed to do what he could for me when I j arrived in Fairbanks.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p64-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 21, 2014, 10:06:04 AM
But first, my route into Vancouver would delight me with a road I would later rate as one of the great motorcycle roads in the world. Highway ' 99 began among the dry hills of pine and sage near Marble Canyon, then after I Lillooet it went snaking through deep forest, up and down past fast rivers and aquamarine mountain lakes. The sky remained bright, the air cool and delicious, and the sinuous road coming toward me was so challenging and rewarding that I was tempted into the adrenaline zone. Turn by turn my pace increased until I was riding with a complete focus spiced by the ever-present danger and occasional thrill of fear, racing against physics and my own sense of caution in a sublime rhythm of shifting, braking, leaning deep into the tight corners, then accelerating out again and again. I felt a charge of excitement I hadn't known for many months, and found myself whooping out aloud with the sheer existential thrill.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p77
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 22, 2014, 10:42:25 AM
I recall writing to you when I was taking the Jim Russell course in Formula Ford cars at the racetrack at Mont Tremblant, Quebec, and while that was pretty exciting, this seemed way more serious, in the same way that riding a motorcycle on the street is more serious than driving a car can ever be.
The main pressure, of course, was not to crash, and I was happy enough to succeed on that level, but I also had some highly adrenalized fun (rare and welcome in my recent life), and learned a thing or three about bike-handling. Even riding away from there on my way up here, I felt more comfortable and confident on my old GS than I had coming down that same road a few days before.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p159
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 23, 2014, 10:18:44 AM
Back eastward to Mike's Sky Rancho! Mecca for dirt-bikers and Baja racers, but Salvadori warns "it can be a rough 22 miles," and indeed it was. Dirt, sand, rocks, stones, streams, ruts, and all that. But, he assures you, "a well-ridden Gold Wing [heavy luxury-touring bike] can make it, much to the disgust of the dirt riders," and sure enough, when I finally pulled in (after having a good, long look at the last 20-foot-wide stream crossing, full of sand and stones) a bunch of guys were standing there beside their one-cylinder, unladen dirt bikes, and one of them started shouting, "How did you do that?
"How did you do that?"
I just said, "With great fear”. They all gathered around, and he said, "You came up the same road we did?" I said, "I guess so," and he blurted out, "But you're not even dirty!" True, I did look quite smashing: the mechanic at Hollywood BMW had shined up the bike; I had on my relatively new Vansons [summer leathers] for the first time, and I'd even had my boots cleaned up nice in L.A. "Well," I said, "I guess it's 'cause I wasn't following anybody."
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p189-190
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 24, 2014, 08:41:40 AM
Anyway, with all that, it was already about 3:00 before I turned off into the mountains, taking a different road than we did, but I still thought I might make it by, say, 7:00. Fool that I am. Washed- out and potholed, endless second and third-gear twists and turns with patches of loose gravel, villages with thousands of topes [speedbumps], often unmarked, trucks and buses to get around, dodging pigs, dogs, chickens, cows, horses, and burros. All the good stuff.
And soon, it started to get dark Oh man, was I freaking! The first time on this whole long journey I've travelled at night, and of all places: in the mountains of Oaxaca. In addition to the obvious hazards to life and limb, apparently the "bandido" threat is very active these days on the roads of Oaxaca, even along the coast, and Lonely Planet warns, "the best defence is not to travel at night”. But I didn't know what else to do; there wasn't a Best Western anywhere to be seen, and camping at the roadside didn't seem a particularly clever option either.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p208-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 25, 2014, 11:52:17 AM
In truth, I think Keith kind of sympathized with my bachelor-with-a vengeance stance, for I had half-jokingly mentioned that I was thinking of putting my Ducati 916 (one of the most beautiful of motorcycles) in the living room, and when I got back from Mexico, I laughed to see it sitting in the front window, flagrantly shiny, red, and so unfeminine.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p236
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 26, 2014, 12:02:42 PM
Some mornings I would wake up freaking and sad and lonely and desperate, but as soon as I got on the bike, the world would first contract, to the size of the machine which carried me and everything I needed and then it would expand, to the wide new world of highway, landscape, and wildlife coming at me. Once I started getting out and hiking in the woods and mountains, I found the same benefits applied. It wasn't about the beautiful scenery or the peace and serenity of Nature; it wasn't the looking that mattered, it was the moving. To be on the road, or on the march, that was the thing.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p250
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 27, 2014, 09:26:16 AM
The wispy palo verde trees carried an array of tiny yellow blossoms; the spindly arms of the ocotillo cactus were studded with vibrant red; a host of small plants and bushes displayed their subtle jewellery, and the mesquite, cholla, and giant saguaro cactus wore their full-dress greens. The wind blew fierce and steady from the west, raising dust clouds along the roadside, and it was a "quartering" wind against me and the motorcycle. Bad enough riding against a headwind that buffeted my helmet around and drove stubbornly back against the bike and my body, but trying to steer the bike into a wall of wind that was slightly off-center like that was even worse, combining the wind of my passage at 80 mph against the 40 mph wind vectoring in at me.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p318
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 28, 2014, 10:08:09 AM
You know I prefer the back roads, the empty two-lane blacktop thrill-rides of the West, but there is still something special about a long, relentless journey, even on the "Superslab; Brutus and I did a couple of cross-country marathons during the Rush tour (Virginia to Frisco in four days, Toronto to L.A. in five) and we got to like the way you just keep humming along, stopping only for gas and "biological breaks," with a mental jukebox dredging up every song you ever knew and playing it back to you. Sure you get stiff and sore, and maybe cold and wet, but that's the price of admission.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p344
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 29, 2014, 11:06:03 AM
Yesterday morning I was setting off early from the Four Seasons to my folks' place in Severn Bridge for breakfast, but when I brought my bike up from the parking lot, I found the rear tire was flat. Nothing else to do- I got out my repair kit, located a big nail sticking out of the tire, removed it, and plugged the hole, as I've had to do several times before, in various exotic locations. And here's where a real hotel shows its mettle: instead of "boging out" about having me there lowering the tone of their front entrance- leather-clad Scooter Trash sitting on the ground behind his dirty old motorcycle with tools spread around- bellman ran off to get the hotel's electric compressor to help me fill the tire, and the doorman brought me a bottle of Evian and a towel- because of course it was sweltering hot in the city yesterday, even at 7:00 a.m.
So that was pretty nice, for a bummer situation.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p366-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 30, 2014, 11:38:34 AM
When the bike was parked in my garage, I was enjoying my well- earned glass of Macallan at the kitchen counter, and started to smile about it, thinking, "You know, that was a real adventure today."
And so it had been- both the good and the bad. For of course it could have been much worse, in many ways, and those ways had been avoided in large part by the "kindness of strangers". At the end of the day I was left feeling a little better about the world, and about life- for I also had to smile at a thought that sometimes crosses my mind at the end of a long, perilous day. "I have cheated death again."
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p368-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 31, 2014, 08:31:47 AM
Some lovely vistas of blue ocean, surfswept stretches of beach, giant teeth of rock sticking up, conifers shaped to leeward by the wind, tall stands of Douglas fir, and all like that, certainly makes a beautiful sight. However, once you've seen it one or two times from the end of a line of traffic backed up and crawling behind a big fat RV towing a sport-ute, or a double-trailer dumptruck. Or, just as the road finally opened up a little south of Coos Bay (nice name that), a bitter fog rolled in, hiding the road, the traffic, and the scenery. And making it 47°F out.
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p428
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 01, 2014, 11:22:39 PM
I was just thinking about how some of those other biker-guys give the rest of us a bad name, you know? This morning at the Ahwanee I woke at about 6:30, windows open and chilly, pine-scented air keeping me under the covers for awhile, and while I enjoyed that first smoke, I heard an open-piped Harley exploding, one cylinder at a time, trying with repeated blats and concussions and finally igniting into a pulsing roar of potato-potato on fast idle, then rumbling off through the woods like a flathead Ford with a broken muffler (pretty good analogy, actually).
Ghost Rider  Neil Peart p448-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 02, 2014, 12:09:11 PM
"Uncle Bill" is my Dad’s brother and at that time was a Louisiana State Trooper, a motorcycle trooper! Of course, the huge Police machine complete with siren, radio and red lights was a "don't touch" item, but no one said I couldn’t look at it for hours and idolize every bolt on it. Any opportunity to do just that was taken, because that motorcycle was the coolest thing I'd ever seen.
One particular weekend, Uncle Bill and my Aunt Evelyn invited over to spend the night and acceptance was immediate. On that beautiful Saturday morning after breakfast, my Uncle was washing and polishing the huge, white bike on the sidewalk that led from the front door. He allowed me to help him dry it and I was ecstatic. As the bike sat there and glistened in the morning sun, Uncle Bill cranked it up and asked a question that would forever shape the rest of my life, "You want for a ride?" As I remember it, that moment was almost holy and to this very day forms an indelible picture in my mind along with a warm gratitude for the Uncle that lovingly and unknowingly flipped the switch that made me the insatiable fanatic that authors this book.
Shiny Side Up  Michael Abadie p xii
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 03, 2014, 09:29:57 AM
As far as I'm concerned, grand prix is by far a greater mix of thrill-a-minute, white-knuckle,  adrenaline drenched racing. While watching an Italian race recently, I was amazed time and again to see those crotch rocket jockeys wring them out. One hundred eighty or so in the straights, do a stand up on both brakes and then dump the bikes into a series of turns so tight that there was about an inch of clearance between the track and the riders' ELBOW! I didn't say his knee, I said HIS ELBOW! Riding like that makes even non-bikers want to stand up and do a hallelujah jig! I rode like that one time; a very short distance. After waking up in the weeds against a chain link fence with pieces of my skin smeared into the asphalt, the realization occurred that I had made a serious miscalculation.
All of the motorcycles in the race were of the same class and virtually same type of construction with very similar horsepower. The difference in the winner and all of the "also rans" was the rider. The winner evidently had more courage and more confidence in his abilities and the potential of his machine. The fastest, most agile motorcycle in the world can't win a race with a rider full of fear and doubt. No chicken men are allowed in the eagle’s nest!
Shiny Side Up  Michael Abadie p28
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 04, 2014, 10:20:14 AM
Hour after hour, day after day, multiplied thousands of motorcyclists zip up and down the roads in our country, some at breakneck speeds, without ever questioning the mechanical capabilities of the machine between their legs. Truly the faith of the average motorcycle rider is to be highly respected. Having built and rebuilt a few scooters myself over the years, I’ve seen the hundreds of intricate parts that make up the puzzle of the average motorcycle. All of the parts from the tiniest bearing, bushing or circlip, to the tank, forks, swingarm and everything in between, must perform in flawless concert to make the bike carry our carcasses from point A to point B. If a critical one of those parts decides to give up the ghost, the whole thing either sputters, stops, blows up or flies apart Sometimes the truth is just plain ugly, ain't it? However, most of us just climb on, crank it up and blast down the interstate three feet from an 18 wheel behemoth without ever giving a second thought. That, brothers, is faith in action! If the rider's attention was continually centered on what could possibly go wrong, then all the great benefits of riding would be wiped out. Getting on bike would become a masochistic exercise in terror that no one in his right mind would want. But we, because we have biker faith, ride joyously and terror free trusting in and relying on our faithful scooters to take us through all of life's great poker runs.
Shiny Side Up  Michael Abadie p30-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 05, 2014, 09:26:00 AM
My riding buddies and I are chewing at the handle bars in anticipation of the eastbound scoot to join with a zillion of our comrades for the frolic in the sunshine state. As an added treat, there is a dinner and get together for the Iron Butt Association that should prove to be a lot of fun for those of us who are truly smitten with the afflictive disposition for extreme long distance riding.
With the re-emergence of motorcycle season that is now once again upon us, we will all be coming back into contact with friends and acquaintances we haven't seen in awhile. Familiar faces and the renewal relationships usually results in the nice, groovy feelings of the warm fuzzy variety. Some of those old faces are mighty fuzzy too! After a year has lapsed, a considerable amount of water has passed beneath the proverbial bridge; some good and some not so good.
Shiny Side Up  Michael Abadie p79-80
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 06, 2014, 08:49:52 AM
And how many of us have had to listen to the never ending cries? My Aunt Harriet’s third cousin’s wife bought a bike and on her first ride somebody ran a red light and ripped off both her lips with the tie rod end of a Mercedes.  You'd  better  quit riding those death machines! Isn’t it strange that to some, it s always the fault of the motorcycle? That old chick's permanent smile could have just as easily happened while strutting across the street on foot, but most non-bikers never think of that. The poor old bike always gets the blame, no matter what. But, no matter what, I'm going to enjoy my scooting days while I've got them and I'm not going to allow one of society's fear mongers to steal my joy. So there! If our riding was dependent on public opinions, I'd probably never leave the garage. Those who don't ride don't understand.
Shiny Side Up  Michael Abadie p95
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 07, 2014, 09:33:34 AM
I'd miss our regular motorcycle-maintenance and beer-drinking sessions and blats into the hills. Dave was a motorcycle journalist. We'd met years earlier. For a long time I’d thought motorcyclists in Sydney were a really friendly bunch; every time I was off the rig and belting around the eastern suburbs on my bike I'd get a wave during rush hour on the big lane split into Bondi. Turned out it was Dave every time, just on a different bike each month. When we finally stopped one day in the same place he explained he'd been waving to me for ages.
'Mate, I always had on the same helmet.' I hadn't noticed.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Old Steve on February 07, 2014, 12:02:19 PM
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p6

This guy writes a varied range of books.  "Is that thing Diesel?" is about his circumnavigation of Australia on a bike converted to a diesel engine and run on deep fryer oil (I think, but definitely a biofuel anyway).

Other books of his are:

"Don't tell Mum I work on the Rigs, she thinks I'm a piano player in a whorehouse"
"This is not a drill, just another glorious day in the oilfield"
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 08, 2014, 05:28:07 PM
As I twisted the throttle to get more fuel through the injectors I had to pull on the front brake to stop from lurching forward. Then it hit me, the most amazing aroma of cooking oil. It was an unmistakable food smell, a combination of fish 'n' chips and greasy fry-up. I turned in the saddle and looked down at the light grey smoke puffing in time with the engine’s KA DONK, KA DONK, KA DONK.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p75
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 09, 2014, 12:35:26 PM
Practice makes perfect, provided of course you have the right parts. I drilled myself over and over again changing tyres, chains, sprockets, filters, the whole lot. Betty and I went for ever longer rides from Perth. I was getting to know her, and discovering that many of her character traits were- how can I put this?- less than ideal. Betty was loud, so loud people walking down the street 50 yards away would turn to see what was making that bizarre noise. This was often followed by an open- mouthed stare and the question: 'Mate, is that thing a diesel?' Riding Betty past a group of people waiting roadside for a bus was a cringe-making, loud, smelly and smoky experience; the combination of her rank green colour, noise and exhaust fumes was as repellent as you could imagine.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p105-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 10, 2014, 08:51:27 AM
I stood in the little examination room staring at the eye chart on the opposite wall and nervously hopping from toe to toe while the doctor sauntered in and casually closed the door, regarding me with a whimsical look. 'Right, you've got an insect in your ear then.'
I twitched, my eyes big and crazy. I closed the gap between us, put both hands on his shoulders. “Get it out, for God's sake.”
He straightened up instantly, all humour gone. “Don't worry, Mr Carter. Over to the bed and sit down, please.” I leaped onto the bed. “Call me Paul. Just get it out, Doc!” He produced one of those black trumpet-shaped scope things with the little light, pulled down on my lobe and poked in the scope. As his head drew close to the lens he jerked back.
'Whoa,' was all I heard.
'What the stuff is it?' I asked.
He put down the scope. “Well, there's a big cockroach in there, but don't worry, first we're going to drown him with oil, then we can remove him.”
“Whaddya mean drown him? It doesn't need to look like an accident- why don't you send in a hit man? Drown him in oil, what do you mean in oil? I work in oil. What kind of oil? Why muck about with a drowning? Just use a gun- even better, there's a meat skewer back at the house. I was raving, but he was already gone. I sat there for what seemed like forever. My new friend, sensing he was in real trouble, began scratching around even harder. The doc came back with a giant turkey baster full of warm vegetable oil. He had to sit on my head to keep me still while a nurse squirted the oil into my ear. The roach went into his death throes while he slowly suffocated. The doc held on while I screamed and bucked wildly. The nurse held the examination bed down while the doc enjoyed his first human-head rodeo; he rode for the full eight seconds before dismounting and straightening out his hair. I lay there twitching in unison with my newly drowned friend.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p120-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 11, 2014, 09:12:54 AM
We ascended through the Madura Pass at nightfall, with rain still falling hard, and pulled up at the motel there. “Try the quiche, it's really good,” said the motel manager as I checked us in. I glanced over to the driveway; Clare was waking up in the cab outside. The manager was a big man with a shaved head, a goatee and a lazy eye. On a night like this one, my first impression was that he had probably just finished digging three shallow graves out in the bush in anticipation of our arrival. It didn't help that the motel was a big spread-out complex at the base of the pass.
Other than us and the manager, it appeared to be totally empty. Our room was at the end of a wing that stretched into darkness. “This place is creepy,” said Clare, looking through the rain as lightning lit up the wet landscape. We unloaded our bags and ran back to the main building for something to eat. The motel manager was there. “Try the quiche,” he grinned. “It's really good.” We sat there in the restaurant alone, not another soul in there. “This place is like an Aussie Bates Motel,” I whispered. Clare looked worried and put on Lola's bib. “He's scary,” she said.
“Are you going to have the quiche? Apparently it's really good.” She pulled a face. The manager returned a moment later with a pad. “I'll have the quiche,” I said, smiling at Clare. Clare had a salad and Lola demolished a big piece of fish.
The quiche was horrible, our night was long, the door had a flimsy lock on it, and Clare was convinced the motel manager was going to burst through the door and hack us up with a fire axe. She was ready to pile up the furniture against the door, but in the end the night was uneventful. The manager was in fact a perfect gentleman with a dry sense of humour and bad taste in quiche.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p122-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 12, 2014, 09:51:53 AM
Our first night's stop was due to be Mount Gambier via Keith. My initial joy at finally being on the road was ephemeral to say the least. The first thing that hit gain- was how slow Betty was. The second thing that hit me- on a highway surrounded by trucks- was the shockwave of wind right after each truck has shot past. My hands were totally numb from the vibrations coming through the bars. Now that's a weird feeling: you know you're holding onto the handlebars, you just can't feel it.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p129
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 13, 2014, 09:33:27 AM
They could not understand why this guy on a big motorcycle was only doing 80 kilometres per hour. I was in the slow lane, where you can legally do 80, but this just wasn't good enough for the average mild-mannered motorist, most of whom simply defaulted to giving me the finger and/or a verbal serve on passing. I'd had enough, so we turned off the coastal route at Lavers Hill, heading northeast. This country was much better for an underpowered bike. Betty cruised over the Otway Ranges through some really pretty country. The sun came out, the road traffic was light and I started enjoy myself- that is, until the sun went down and we hit the Princes Highway. Back to the road rage and abuse- again with the hand gestures- from fast-moving cars; trucks blew by threatening to suck me from the handlebars. It was impatient driving at its worst. One bloke even threw a kebab at me.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p131-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 14, 2014, 09:25:22 AM
This must be the start of the dreaded Betty-crushing Black Spur, I thought. Eddie swiftly confirmed this over the two-way. “The Black Spur,” he announced. “You're never gonna make it, sucka.” I overtook the truck and put-putted into the most amazing high country forest. Two brand spanking KTMs pulled alongside and Betty got the once-over. There was some pointing, lots of laughing, then they barked the engines, down a gear, on the throttle, front wheels effortlessly airborne- wankers- and off up the straight on the balance point through the gearbox. I couldn't do that; I just didn't have the power the gearbox. But I could enjoy the scenery, hairpin after hairpin straight up into the Yarra Ranges.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p140
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 15, 2014, 09:48:17 AM
The ride down the other side was a joy, all the same swervery but no longer underpowered so I could finally keep up with all the other bikes enjoying the run. The KTM duo were stuck behind a caravan, deep in conversation, doing twenty. I thumped past, rushing a really silly overtake on the apex of a right hander. No oncoming traffic but an overhanging tree nearly took my head off. Don't look back, just hold her wide open and go. The game was on. I caught flashes of their headlights in my mirrors; Betty's footpegs touched bitumen for the first time. I rode as hard and fast bike would let me. We duelled, always within our lanes, measured, experienced fun, ripping through turn after turn, the bikes well over, jittery on the lean from the leaf litter on the roadside, into the centre line and back, always thinking ahead, always looking towards the exit point and the next setup. No looking back, or they'd know I was trying, no glancing down at gauges or mirrors. We were flying. At the first straight section we came to the duo pulled up, one on either side of me. I was hopelessly out-gunned, out-wheelied and out-braked. We rode on, three in a row down the straight, no hard-faced manly nods or piss taking, just big happy grins.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p141
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 16, 2014, 11:55:14 AM
In the morning Eddie got up early and fixed us a full cooked breakfast. Dan wanted to go for a ride to get some shots, so he jumped on the back of Betty again. We plodded through a few paddocks, cresting a big hill to pull up right in front of the biggest bull I've ever seen. He was magnificent. It looked like someone had stretched a hide over a drooling city bus.
The big beast blew snot out of nostrils you could fit a fist in. ‘OK mate, we've seen the giant bull, let's move on,' Dan said nervously.
The bull turned and started walking towards us.
'Pauli, let's go, c'mon mate,' Dan said. I pulled off very slowly. Dan didn't think it was funny.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p149
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 17, 2014, 08:24:55 AM
Rory had obviously done this kind of thing before [made custom leathers]. He talked easily to the camera, he spoke well and knew exactly what he was talking about. He described the ideal fit of a riding suit for professional racers and amateurs, and explained the difference from a rider's point of view in the different suit designs as well as different types of leather. 'Right Paul, if you could hold out your arms like said. I did as I was told, and Rory started taking my measurements, then entering them into his laptop. I was rather enjoying the whole thing, until Rory got to the crotch measurement. 'OK, Paul, I need to get the tape directly on the skin here, so I'll need you to hop out of your jeans.' There was a pause while my mind raced for an answer.
Rory grinned. 'You're not wearing underwear, are you?' I shook my head. Dan looked up from the camera.
'Mate, who goes to a racing suit fitting jockless?' I tried to look penitent. 'Sorry, guys. I've been on the road and just ran out of clean undies.'
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p156-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 18, 2014, 09:28:27 AM
Stage three was a straight run up the Pacific Highway through Newcastle with a brief detour through Bucketts Way. It's a popular run tor riders. Some parts of the road are not so great to ride on but at my speed and with all the vibration it didn't really make any difference. We meandered along with the Karuah River past wide paddocks and shaded forest, then turned left at Gloucester and on to Nabiac and the National Motorcycle Museum.
Our stop for the night was a small house in a paddock directly behind the museum. As usual we arrived late. Dad and Phil had spent the day on the road chatting and both looked tired, so Dan and I wandered over to the main entrance of the museum in the dark. A massive bike was displayed out the front. Dan lit up the camera, and its beam cut through the pitch-black interior, bouncing off hundreds of neatly lined up, polished handlebars. 'Wow.' It was an Aladdin's cave in there. I was like a drooling kid outside a toy store window at Christmas. I pushed on the door as if somehow by magic it would open and automatically all the lights would come on, beaming me through the looking glass and into Bike Nirvana.
The door of course remained locked, so I had to wait till morning, but as soon as the museum opened, I was there hopping about like a cartoon rabbit ready to spend my morning soaking up bikes, bikes, more bikes, bike stuff, bike trivia- bike everything. The place didn't I disappoint. I have never seen so many bikes in one place.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p162-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 19, 2014, 10:36:55 AM
By mid-morning we had crossed over into Queensland. By then we were back on the Pacific Highway and I was back to feeling silly each time a big, ballsy, hairy-armed biker sidled up for a look. As I sat in my upright bio-fuel typing-pool riding position, hairy-armed bikers glanced over at me with a mixture of pity and amusement. Seated astride their Harleys in that laid-back, reading-the-weekend-paper-in-the-armchair position they travel past me effortlessly, their bikes sounding like several howitzers going off in unison. Even when bankers, lawyers and brain surgeons skip a weekend shave, get up early, saunter into the garage and throw a leg over their Harley, they get that face on, that look-at-my-bad-arsed-substance face. When they go past me, I can practically hear what they're thinking: I'm cool today baby, but next to this thing I'm really cool. Hey, I think it's a diesel.' I knew that for the entire ride I was never going to bump into another twat riding an irrigation pump. I was never going to go fast enough for anyone to want to ride with me, unless I befriended a retired biker in a cart. I was never going to hear someone say, 'Hey, you have a slow bio-diesel Frankenstein special, so do I- let's be friends.'
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p165-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 20, 2014, 08:26:42 AM
We met John Lloyd, an old Air Force flying mate of Dad’s, and his wife Glenda. John's a great guy; I ran into him at the Brisbane Writers' Festival last year. He had me in stitches with stories about Dad, and told me lots of things I didn't know about him. John's memories of those days, long before I was born, were clear as a bell, and by the end of the night I started to look at my father in a new light, like a veil had been lifted. They were like two young blokes again, bouncing off each other, laughing. I hope Erwin and I will be like that in years to come.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p166
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 21, 2014, 10:55:24 AM
Roma was the goal; Roma was a place to rest for the night. I focused on the road ahead, and forced myself to pay attention. You live inside your helmet on a long-distance ride, but it becomes Wally World after a while. You drift, way off into other times, other places. While I rode I made lists, thought about tits, planned extensions to my house. I thought about the past a lot, revisiting childhood streets and alleyways in Scotland, like a morbid Google Earth. I jumped forward and backward through my past, made lists of people I wanted to catch up with, then crossed off the ones who were dead.
The problem is, it you let your brain box wander. your bike will eventually follow, likely straight into an oncoming road train. Rule of thumb, as I was repeatedly told by mates who know, guys who are long-distance riders: expect the worst, plan for the worst, and know yourself before you go.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p170-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 23, 2014, 11:28:51 AM
'He's got cat dementia,' I explained to Gav.
'MMMMAWWWW Oswald started digging out scoops of earth. It had started raining, but that didn't bother him.
'Where's he going mate, China?' said Gav.
'Well, either that or he's remembered why he's digging a hole in the rain.'
'He's down to his shoulder there, how big does your cat shit?' Gav finished his beer. 'That's a bit optimistic, don't you think, Ossy?’
I shrugged.'He's an oilfield cat, mate, he'll be running casing in that hole next.'
Gav smiled and we were about to walk off when Ossy suddenly puckered up and nutted one out about a foot away from his perfectly vertical hole. Then he turned around and filled in the hole, patting down the earth fastidiously. He sprinkled leaves over the top and everything. He turned to go and stopped dead in front of his turd.
'Bloody hell!' Gav was in hysterics.
Ossy looked up at us as if to say, 'Now, how did that happen?' and sat there in the rain looking at his poop.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p184
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Sicman on February 23, 2014, 12:24:52 PM
Does this electronic book thingy come in brail for the seeing impaired?
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 23, 2014, 09:08:06 PM
Does this electronic book thingy come in brail for the seeing impaired?
Funny you should ask.  You can buy CDs with Paul Carter reading his books for the visually impaired.
So there's hope for you yet!     :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Sicman on February 23, 2014, 09:18:18 PM
Nope - Everyone tells me there is no hope for me  :crazy :o Still many a happy  :hijacked to come yet though?  :thumbs :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 24, 2014, 09:24:41 AM
I flipped open my visor to wedge a Minty into my mouth. The air was like a slap in the face- imagine sitting in a sauna while someone holds a hairdryer an inch from your eyes, that's what it was like.
'Shit!' I often swore out loud, or I'd sing, or have long conversations with myself like a mad person with Tourettes. A corner came looming up with a triple banking hard around it, always on the apex. You could sit on the bike for hours on the straight with nothing and no one passing you, then the minute you hit a blind corner, a road train the size of Brussels would be coming directly at you. There was no time to react, other than just blindly hang on and hope for the best. Because of Betty's very upright riding position, the invisible wall of air displaced by a truck doing 130 k's would hit me hard. It was often like catching a sack of flour in the chest, while the bike got blown across the road.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p189-90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 24, 2014, 12:59:04 PM
Nope - Everyone tells me there is no hope for me.

Who am I to argue with them?

Another good thing about Paul Carter is he wrote the story into a print book, which is great for hearing deficient people like me because I'm crap at Auslan.      :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 25, 2014, 10:09:27 AM
The shoulder was as wide and flat as the road; it looked like it had recently been graded. Betty was about two metres off the road when she slammed to a complete stop. Time and adrenalin put you in a weird place. I wonder if there is a word for those moments in your life when accidents happen: that out-of-body parallel universe you enter when you realise you're going to crash, just before you actually hit something. Time slows down; adrenalin transforms you from a disposable camera into a microscope.
The information I processed in those split seconds was astounding. If only I could make my brain perform like that all the time. For me, the initial horror- like the spike of a needle- then dissolved into calm hyper-awareness like I'd had a giant hit of Berocca. I was suddenly as calm and detached as at any quiet moment. As my head went through Betty's windshield, I noticed the odometer read five kilometres; I'd reset it when we left Longreach. 'Five k's,' I thought, 'that s not very far out of town for an ambulance to travel.' My body was thrown forward and to the left; I was obviously getting high-sided and was about to get slammed down on my left side, head first. I thought, 'It's OK, the airbag vest will go off now,' and then my mind flashed to image of me throwing the vest on the back seat of the truck as we left the coffee shop not ten minutes earlier.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p191
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 26, 2014, 10:25:47 AM
Matt's DVD choices were good considering he got them in a petrol station. Hitchcock's classic The Birds, Ghostbusters, an old Sean Connery sci-fi movie from the eighties called Jutland and, God love him, Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman's Long Way Round- just what I wanted to see. I'd rather rub Deep Heat on my balls and staple my tongue to a burning building.
Dan handed me my phone. 'Thanks for waiting, mate, I'll just roll.'
I called Clare. I didn't want to tell her I was in a hospital, that I'd dropped the ball. So I lied, telling her we'd decided to stay a couple of extra days in Longreach. She saw through my lie in a second though, even over the phone. She was straight onto me, and got all the facts.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p200
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 27, 2014, 11:48:52 AM
Heading out of Longreach, we stopped at that same coffee shop that we were in before the accident. I had another bucket of latte, and it hit my bladder at almost exactly the same place where I had dropped the bike four days ago. Matt slowed down as we passed the spot. 'We should do a piece to camera here,' Dan said from the back seat.
'Keep going,' I said. I didn't want to stand there looking at it. Matt nodded and got back on the throttle
and back into the story he was telling.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p210
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 28, 2014, 09:11:21 AM
Queensland's crappy outback roads would throw the truck's cab into the air every few minutes; my arse would leave the seat and come down hard, shooting waves of pain up and down my chest and shoulder. Because I could make out the potholes and bigger undulations up ahead I started tensing up and holding my breath just prior to the jolt, but this just made it worse.
As we pulled out of Winton the wheel directly under my side of the cab slammed into a bottomless pothole and I lost it. The next 2068 k's was feeling more e 10,000, and I still had over 8000 k's to ride after Darwin- that is, if I could ride after Darwin at all. It was a dummy spit to end all dummy spits, but it made me feel a bit better. After all, there was no other option, we just had to keep going.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p211
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Wayne'o on February 28, 2014, 12:55:33 PM
Four wheels moves the body.

Two wheels moves the soul.

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 01, 2014, 04:41:09 PM
My morphine reserve was helping. Around the halfway mark, I opted to lie down flat on the back seat, and the magic pills put me away. I was in limbo, when the truck suddenly stopped.
I heard Matt talking to someone and slowly sat up. There, in the absolute middle of nowhere, at an anonymous crossroads in central Queensland, was a group of eight lost backpackers. I got out of the cab; the drugs had me in their grip, and I wandered about on the baking hot road without a hat, looking at this group of carefree young backpackers. I don't remember where they were going, but one of them, a Canadian dude with a goatee, crazy hair and an eye patch, was playing a piano accordion.
My head was light as a feather, and Matt started dancing about in the middle of the road while Dan seized the opportunity to get some filming done. We all joined in. It was totally bizarre and very surreal, dancing a jig with the backpackers in the middle of the road in the blinding heat. Only in Australia.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p212-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 02, 2014, 02:13:19 PM
While I was in Darwin, I had done another ABC Radio interview. I had also done several phone interviews roadside along the way. We had been lucky with the media on this trip, and now the interest was really picking up. Random people were starting recognise the bike. 'Is that the veggie burner?' some would ask. Others had me posing in photos. A lot of people seemed really enthusiastic about what we were doing. 'Wow, is that the bike? Good on ya.' Rather than kebabs in the face, I was getting the thumbs-up from overtaking cars. And the truckies went from something feared and avoided to princes of the highway. They got on the radio to talk about the bike; I sat there listening to the chatter. 'Looks like a bugger of a way to get around,' said one. 'Our washing machine's got more grunt,' said another. But now they gave me a heads-up and a wide berth, always with a honk and a nod. On ya, fellas.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p230-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 03, 2014, 05:56:13 PM
The 75 k's to Bullo was a mix of everything. It started as corrugations formed by years of trucks passing over the dirt. These buggers were punctuated by sudden, deep tennis-court-sized holes full of soft bull dust. Hitting them was terrifying because I instantly lost all my torque and speed. Thump! The front wheel would sink; it took all my strength to avoid a flight over the handlebars while the bike snaked wildly left to right. Back to the c-c-c-c-c-c-c-corrugations until I picked up enough speed to get over the top. My shoulder and leg were throbbing. My kidneys and liver were starting to jiggle their way out of my mouth. Another patch of bull dust, and BANG, I went down.
The first fall didn't hurt at all, the second only made me drug-dependent, but the third had me on my knees. It wasn't much to look at; I was only doing about ten kilometres per hour when the front wheel just dug in once again and stopped. I just didn't have the upper body strength to rake back the handlebars; I went over on my side, my cracked ribs re-cracked, my whole face creased in pain as though I'd got a nosefull of wasabi.
Betty's impeller hoovered in bull dust, the whole right side of the handlebar was buried in the ground, her throttle wide open. The engine screamed as she choked down dirt-filled air and spewed out thick white smoke.
Gav rushed over. 'What can I do?' he yelled over the squealing engine. Betty's back wheel was spinning, throwing out oil and dirt. I was too winded to answer, so he bolted to the back of the truck and came back with a pair of pliers to cut the throttle line. I knew the bike couldn't take much more, so I sat up, grabbed the buried handlebar and pushed the heavy machine up. The back wheel bit into the dust. I twisted the throttle back and stopped. I fell back, my ribs and shoulder burning, spasms of white-hot pain in my lungs.
Gav helped me up and lifted my leg over the bike for me. We had to push on; we were so close. I was sore, but now I was getting better at blanking it out.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p235-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 04, 2014, 07:46:23 AM
A gaggle of early-retirement red Ducati roosters showed up with matching $1000 lids and no wear on their tyres. They strutted about pecking at each other's bikes for a bit, then mooched over to take a morbid but sympathetic curiosity in Betty's plumage. To them it doubt appeared she was just a nasty twenty-dollar crack whore with a university sticker on her tank. Then they started scanning for the rider. We got pinged on the far table. The head rooster squeaked over in his leather Ducati pants. 'I hope they're paying you to ride that thing.' He pulled out a cigar and manned up, nipping the end off with his teeth. What a tinea of a human.
'Good morning.' I smiled and finished my coffee. 'So.' Rooster One was not giving up. 'Is it part of some experiment?'
'Sort of.'
Dan, who had returned from the toilet looking paler than before, looked at his camera on the table. He's thinking about picking it up, no, don't touch the camera, Danny, or this punisher will puff up his feathers and start making an even bigger ponce of himself.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p250
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 05, 2014, 02:24:05 PM
At 40 I'm constantly looking to exorcise my ghosts of respectability in the pursuit of another journey. But now I realise that can't happen anymore. My girls are the real journey I couldn't see through the dream of dust and bio-diesel. It wasn't until I got my first real look at Australia, not until I was thousands of empty miles away from them, that I understood that at last. I set out on the trip wanting to feel like I used to on a bike miles from anywhere, but I didn't, I couldn't. Everything has changed. The internal road that plays out in Clare and Lola’s world is where I'm headed.
Well, as soon as I crack 300 on the salt.
Is That Thing Diesel?  Paul Carter p260
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 06, 2014, 08:22:34 AM
Whatever the cause, an instant later he's still leaned over turning hard right at a point where he should be standing the motorcycle up and steering it up the road. His exit from the turn carries him off the crown of the road, down onto pavement sloping toward the ditch. The front wheel is leaned way over, scrabbles for grip, and starts to slide. The bike stops pointing up the road and starts pointing toward the ditch. Exactly, in fact, toward the spot where I'm standing. Instinctively, the rider turns the handlebars a little farther, and the front wheel tucks. Now the front wheel is pointing the right way, but its still skidding because the rest of the motorcycle is moving the wrong way.
This rarely happens to ordinary motorcyclists, because they don't lean over far enough or wrench the handlebars hard enough, to get into this kind of trouble. Which is good, because of all the ways a motorcycle can slide, a front-end tuck is the hardest to save. If you want to try to save it, you can apply the racer’s maxim: "When in doubt, gas it." This, to honest, doesn't always solve the problem, but at least it ends the suspense.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 07, 2014, 07:17:23 AM
 Using the throttle to regain control is a hard thing to learn, for two reasons. Its counterintuitive and there is no time to think about it before acting. So racers learn, if they learn, by mulling it over ahead of time. Visualizing it on long winter evenings when it's too cold to ride. Programming themselves, even hard-wiring themselves, to do the very thing that their instincts desperately oppose when they get into trouble.
The rider, whoever he is, isn't consciously thinking. That much I know. His body feels the slide. A message - which originates in his inner ear, and bypasses his brain altogether - goes straight to his right wrist, which opens the throttle, spinning the rear tire. The rear of the bike slides out to match the front. Each wheel of a motorcycle is a spinning gyroscope. As the rear wheel comes back into alignment with the front, physics makes the bike rise out of its lean; the front tire stops sliding and starts rolling.
Had he done nothing, or done too much, or too little, the bike would have continued along its path: ditch, berm, rusty gate, me; bangbangbangbang- as it is, the rear wheel catches traction and fires the bike back onto the center of the road.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 08, 2014, 10:49:36 PM
Still, years after I'd given up every other childhood dream, put every other adolescent fantasy out of my mind, I remained nagged by thoughts of motorcycle racing. Not that I thought I could have been a TT star. But I didn't know that I couldn't have been one.
Back in high school, I had stopped riding before giving myself the chance to find out. After all, you can’t learn anything until you re willing to admit there's something you don't know. 
Confronting the reality of middle age, I realised that I did not want to go gentle into that good afternoon wondering if I could have made it in Grands Prix.
So, in my mid-30s, at an age when most motorcycle racers have long since quit the sport, I went back to school I took a road racing course, run by an ex-Canadian Superbike champion.
The paperwork for course specified, "Students must have at least one year s motorcycle riding experience" I checked the box that said "5+ years riding experience” neglecting to mention that I'd hardly sat on a bike in almost 20 years.
 I told myself I was going to racing school just to experience it. I most people who go never actually race. But I did OK, held my own in a class that was mostly 15 years younger, kids entirely lacking a sense of their own mortality. I immediately booked a slot in the following week's Intermediate session, where I crashed violently and was hooked.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p24-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 09, 2014, 12:04:31 PM
The entry to Governor's Bridge is steeper and faster, lined on both sides with stone walls. You're downshifting, downshifting, while the road gets steeper and steeper all the way to the turn-in point. There is a severe camber problem on the turn’s entry, and a steep drop off across the apex. Taking the normal racer s line around Governor’s Bridge would result in a guaranteed crash, I counted about five pavement changes, especially tricky in the rain, and what seemed like gallons of white paint had been used to direct normal street traffic.
From where I had been standing, I could see about a hundred yards up the Mountain into the braking zone, and an equal distance in the acceleration zone, (The hairpin right exits through a dark, tree-covered dip with a left-right flick onto Glencrutchery Road and the finish line. Shaded and sheltered from the wind, its often wet here for days after a rain, even if the rest of the track is bone dry.) All in all, its a racer's nightmare, a place where you're never going to make up time, but where it'd be devilishly easy to throw a race away.
If you took a modern, short-circuit racer (like me) and plunked him down in the middle of Governor's Bridge saying, "We re going to race through here," he'd tell you that you were completely mad. And you would be, unless you knew it as well as I did after staring at it for five hours. After that, it would still be mad, but it would, I now think, be manageably mad.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p42-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 10, 2014, 08:20:56 AM
So I have that two hundred yards covered. I do a quick calculation: The Mountain course is 37.73 miles long, about 66,000 yards. At 200 yards a day, it would take about 330 days to come to grips with the whole circuit. There is, actually, time to make next year’s race.
I have this idea... (Did I just have it, or was it already in my head? It certainly seems fully formed.) I could go over with a bicycle and cycle the course daily, learning it, imbuing myself with the Manx landscape and history, all while whipping myself into top shape for the race. It occurs to me that my MZ Skorpion race bike may be a lost cause as a Pro Thunder class racer, but that it is well suited to the single cylinder class I watched last Wednesday on the Island. So I actually own a suitable machine. It’s difficult for British riders to even get a TT entry. But, desperate to retain the aura of a global event, the organizers actively encourage foreign riders, so my AMA Expert license almost guarantees they'd let me try to qualify.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 11, 2014, 09:46:59 AM
Tommy was born at Strang, a spot just above Union Mills, "I was pushed down to the TT course in my pram," he says. His dad raced a sidecar but like many locals, Tommy aspired to become a star in Observed Trials (a sport in which motorcycles are ridden over impossible obstacles, the objective being to do so without falling off or putting a foot down).
"I scrimped, and saved,” he tells me, "and I bought a Greeves, that I rode in the Scottish trials when I was 17." I'm guessing that that would have been sometime in the late '50s or early '60s. He tells me that, back then, he couldn't afford petrol to practice, so he'd start at the top of the hill by his mother's house, and inch the Greeves down, stopping and balancing all the way. He calls this "jiggling it down”. At the bottom of the hill he'd get off, push the Greeves back up over and over.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p55
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 12, 2014, 09:58:52 AM
Hemingway is famously quoted as having said “There are only three sports: bullfighting, motor racing, and mountaineering; all the rest are merely games”. This is ironic, because as a motorcycle racer, I’ve always been jealous of mountain climbers, in the sense that they don't seem to face the same resistance from society when it comes to justifying or explaining their obsession. If you grow up in Switzerland and then live in the Canadian Rockies like I did, you meet lots of climbers. I've known about half a dozen people who've summited Everest, and I've always been struck by the fact that we seem understand each other well. We both appreciate a kind of self-knowledge that comes from our particular risk sports.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p56
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 13, 2014, 08:10:10 AM
Other experiences were unquestionably real but weird bits of luck. Like the time, walking down a road in Onchan toward my house, that I noticed a little boy dressed up in a cowboy outfit. He was on the sidewalk, dragging a broomstick between his legs- performing one of those feats of imagination that are effortless for little kids, turning a stick into a horse.
So there I was, having come from Alberta- real cowboy country in the foothills of the Canadian Rockies- to be here on the Isle of Man. But the first time I imagined coming here, I was that little boy’s age. I looked at that kid and couldn't help but see a weird reflection of my own life. All of that was going through my mind. Then, as I reached the corner, I realized the little boy had been walking (in his mind, riding) down Alberta Road. Alberta Road. How weird is that?
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p68-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 14, 2014, 08:09:27 AM
That article concluded with what is arguably the most bucolic crash report ever:
It was A J. Steven, on his Humber, who, endeavouring to take the bridge "all out" was unable to negotiate the curve, and in order to avoid what Jake de Rosier would call being caught "bending", ran down a narrow lane leading into the waters of Sulby Stream and the rich, herb-laden pastures thereby. Amid these pleasant surroundings he stopped his machine, falling off somewhat and having made sure no limbs were numbered amongst the lost, got on the road once more.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p74
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 15, 2014, 08:30:13 AM
The Bandit is a good bike, really, but it feels like a huge lump to me. Its been a long time since I've ridden anything at all, and it’s so different from the bikes I've been racing that it takes me a long time to get comfortable on it. Still, it is my first real lap of the course on a motorcycle of any kind. I concentrate on staying in Steve’s wheel tracks. Up on the Mountain it's foggy and raining, and my visibility gets worse and worse until discretion gets the better part of valor and I let him get away. After a while, I flip up my visor and realize that half the fog was inside my helmet. I pick up speed and find Steve parked and waiting for me farther down the Mountain, down out of the fog.
...
Over the next few weeks- it takes that long to get around to putting the CBR on the road- I ride the course on at least a dozen different bikes- pretty much anything that's been taken in on trade and has fuel in the tank is fair game. I start to feel that I know the course, maybe not as a distinct, sharp series of turns and bends, but in the way you might come to know a person; they become generally but not specifically predictable. 
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p87
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 16, 2014, 12:53:33 PM
On one of those shopping trips, I pull the bike up to the store just as a mother is leaving, pushing a baby in a pram. At the sound of the bike, two little hands wave above the rim of the baby carriage. The kid gets a grip and pulls himself up so that his wide-eyed gaze meets mine for a few seconds, until he falls back. The mother looks from her baby to me, smiles and shakes her head. I point at the carriage and then at my own chest, using sign language to say, "That's exactly what I was like!"
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p88
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 17, 2014, 08:04:15 AM
Dodging cars, I walk down through the corner to look for more hazards on the exit. There I notice a commercial florist’s bouquet that's been tied to a concrete fencepost with ribbon. It's been there a long time, I can tell. There's a tiny white envelope attached to it; the kind that comes with any basic commercial bouquet, which would normally contain a card with a message from the sender. I slip finger into the envelope, which has been softened by the elements. Its empty. No card. No clue who it might have been for, or from, I realize that there is some faded writing on the envelope itself It says, "34th milestone (Kates)"
Something about this one, in particular, sticks in my mind. Sometime later, I walk down the Strand in Douglas and look in on a florist when it hits me: It wasn't that someone put the bouquet there, they, phoned it in. That was why there was no message in the envelope: there was no recipient, at least no one who needed to read anything The florist had just written the delivery address down on the envelope, and gone out and tied it to the fence. The people, friends and family who gather in small groups to place the more permanent memorials are- at least in part- doing something for themselves. Getting “closure” to put a pop psych label on it. But whoever phoned in that florist’s order was doing something very different. He or she was never going to see the bouquet. The flowers were to be placed by someone with no connection to anything. And really, except for me, they were destined to go almost unnoticed. It was less a public thing than a private message to an anonymous rider, as if he was still out there somewhere, lapping the course. Something about that flips a neuron in me, and I suddenly realize that, read as a collective, the hundreds of memorials are not sad. Although they often express loss, "You’ll be missed” not one of them condemns the TT. If anything, they celebrate it as the high point, which it was, of every life thus recalled.
I don't want Steve polishing my memorial here either. But I cannot think of any place I'd rather have one.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p94-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 18, 2014, 08:28:08 AM
In practice for the 125 cc race, Hondas were dominant. When the race itself began, Ernst Degner’s MZ was the only non-Honda among the top six and he dropped out on the second
lap. For most of the race, every rider on the leader board was mounted on a Honda. For a manufacturer, it was a performance so dominant as to be nearly anti-climactic.
However, Taveri pushed Hailwood right to the end. After 113 miles, Hailwood won by a mere seven seconds. Phillis, Redman, and Shimazaki rounded out the top five. Looking back on it, it seems appropriate that Mr, Honda was given his first TT victory by the greatest motorcycle rider of all time. Needless to say, Honda won the team trophy as well. The Examiner said simply, "It was a devastating win for the Orient.”
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p109-10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 19, 2014, 09:06:24 AM
The 250 cc race was run later the same day. Based on practice times, this one was still up for grabs. MV Agusta claimed to have withdrawn its factory team, but the guys working on Gary Hocking's motorcycle certainly looked like the works mechanics from past years. Bob Mclntyre opened with a storming first lap, averaging nearly 100 mph from a standing start.
Hocking, on the MV, was close behind. On the second lap, Mclntyre went faster than any of the previous year's 350 cc racers. Indeed, his times would have dominated the class just three years earlier. Hocking dropped back to third, and then retired with a mechanical failure. Once again, every rider on the leader board was Honda-mounted. Mclntyre was denied the victory he deserved when, halfway round his final lap, his own engine expired. So Hailwood inherited his second win of the day, followed by Phillis, Redman, Takahashi, and Taniguchi, all on Hondas.
It took seven years, not the single year he’d hoped- but even Mr Honda couldn't have dreamed of the extent of his Isle of Man TT success when it finally came. Curiously, he himself did not return to the Island until after he'd retired. Then, before devoting himself to painting, he embarked on a final world tour, visiting the sites of all his company's most famous victories. He brought a Honda factory race bike for the cluttered private museum at the Bungalow, where it remains the most valuable exhibit.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 20, 2014, 08:32:10 AM
When you read about the TT, you come across varied counts of the number of turns and bends on the course: 137,140; depending on who's figuring, it can be as many as 180. In clear weather, sightlines are good up on the Mountain, but three-quarters of the course is tightly walled and hedged in, built up, or overarched by trees. And there are many crests and elevation changes, so no matter whose count you believe, there are literally hundreds of places where the course disappears in front of you. Around a corner. Over a crest. Behind a fence or building or hedge. Climbing or descending into a forest glade. Here's the trick: most of the time when this happens, it happens at blind kinks that can be taken flat out. You don't have to slow down as long as you know where the road goes next. So far so good, but here's the other trick: every now and then, something that looks just the same turns out to be a tight bend that requires two or three down shifts.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p111
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 21, 2014, 09:57:24 AM
When you first get to the Island and the long, long lap blurs into a series of undifferentiated bends, the knowledge that there are a few deadly traps scattered among them can be pretty intimidating. Frankly, the course seems unlearnable. Your initial reaction- at least my initial reaction- is that all those other guys must really have been riding on guts and reflexes.
Your second reaction is that you can’t do it, at least not at the speed you're going to have to go. It’s pretty depressing.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p111-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 22, 2014, 03:54:24 PM
At this point, I have to interrupt, "But its so featureless! I've been through there a hundred times and still haven't found a single landmark." The course kinks down and to the right- a blind approach with a wall on one side and steep berm on the other.
"How,” I ask, "do you time the turn-in?"
For a moment, Hislop looks at me as though he's wondering if he should give away a trade secret. Then he thinks, "What the hell, I’ll never ride the TT again anyway.
"Toward the end of the straight, you come to the crossroads, but that's much too early to turn in." As Hislop starts to answer, he closes his eyes, and leans forward in his chair. His hands float up, as if grabbing an imaginary set of handlebars. "You can't feel it at all on open roads but when you're flat out, there's a little rise after the crossroad. If you're tucked right down, you'll feel the bike come up..." eyes still closed, he exhales sharply, and lifts his chest- miming the tank hitting his chest, then lets his body sag back down for a moment. "As soon as you feel the bike settle back down," as he says it, his body scrunches into a tuck, "you throw it to the right, aiming at the end of the hedge." He opens his eyes, and looks at me with an expression that asks, Got it?
I wish Peter had been here to film. It’s been almost ten years since Hizzy last rode through that kink wide open. But when he told me how he'd done it, he hadn't been dredging up a distant memory- it was still right there, in his body. When he closed his eyes, he was there.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p119
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 23, 2014, 04:32:40 PM
There’s a huge blue and white striped tent nearby and without asking I know its "the" blue and white tent I've been reading about since I was in high school, poring over accounts of the TT that used to appear in summer issues of Cycle. It’s the tent where riders go to await the start, have a tea in the morning, or a mug of soup when they stumble in half-frozen from a wet practice.
It's as familiar as can be. Two women of the grandmotherly type ubiquitous among TT volunteers tend a pair of enormous kettles. A plywood table sits in front of them covered with styrofoam cups. Milk and sugar are laid out. An oversized tin can has been turned into a sort of piggy bank; donations are welcome but they understand when you come creaking in a race suit that you probably don't have pockets, say nothing of coins for the tin.
I ash Andrew if he wants a cup of tea. He looks down. "No thanks.” He works full time at Padgetts, but he's only 16 or 17. This is the first time he's ever had a team pass. Despite (or is it because of) being Manx, he's awed. He doesn't seem sure if the tea’s for the likes of him.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p156
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 24, 2014, 11:00:21 PM
Still, I'm glad to have a chance to review the launch procedure. Bikes are fired up in the pare ferme and then the stewards open a big gate onto Glencrutchety Road, There's no prescribed starting order to practice. Bikes pull out and line up two by two. Most riders are accompanied by two or three mechanics and friends, who help push them slowly along.
You pass a person standing in the road, supporting a plywood sign with a drawing of a crash helmet and the question, "Helmet Strap?" Then another person, with a chalkboard, which carries specific notices of the hazards of the day. This morning, it is a Manx haiku:
Heavy Rain
Standing Water- all around
Fallen leaves on road
Fog on mountain
High Winds
Be Careful
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p157-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 25, 2014, 08:38:17 AM
There are two predominant schools of thought concerning the rider inputs that cause a motorcycle to turn. The Freddie Spencer school of thought holds that the rider’s position on the
motorcycle is key. Spencer’s arch-rival, Keith Code, runs something called California Superbike School. Code's position is that counter-steering: handlebar pressure alone- is what makes motorcycles turn.
At the Spencer school, they tend to rely on what your prof called “argument from authority" back in Philosophy 101. Freddie, they point out at every opportunity, is a triple World Champion; who ever heard of Keith Code? But over at the California Superbike School, they’ve gone the gadget route. They've created a motorcycle with dual controls. It has one conventional set, and a second handlebar rigidly mounted to the fuel tank. "Think you can body steer?" they sneer, "see how far you get on this.”
As usual in such political debates, once you've studied both positions, you realize they are making essentially the same case, though they see it from opposing perspectives. Each chooses to ignore their similarities, and focus on their differences.
Strip the rhetoric away, and you'll initiate a turn the same way, no matter where you learn to do it. At the approach of the turn, you shift your weight forward and to the inside. Most good riders take care of this early, because it gets awful busy very soon. As you reach the turn-in point, you will simultaneously transfer as much weight as possible to the inside, by hanging off the bike. At this point, the weight of your body is carried by the inside foot-peg, and by the outside knee, which is pressing against the side of the fuel tank (For simplicity, I've left out all the braking and downshifting that accompany most turns, and throttle control which is essential to balance turning forces between front and rear tires).
Then, magic happens. You push on the inside handlebar. Momentarily, you actually steer opposite to the direction you want to travel. This causes the motorcycle to fall down into a
stable lean angle, matched to the radius of the bend and your speed. Your knee makes contact with the pavement, which is usually incidental but serves as a gauge of just how fast you're going. (At this point you must be looking up through the corner, planning your exit, and you couldn't look at the speedometer even if you had one.)
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p176-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 26, 2014, 11:01:35 AM
Slowly but very loudly, she tells us, "If you need a cuppa tea," she pauses, and forces a smile, as her brow wrinkles. She looks from one of us to the other to the other, hoping for some sign of comprehension, but were too bemused to react, "or summat to eat,” she enunciates- if anything even slower and louder- while miming the act of eating, "there's – tea – and – sandwiches - on at the - church hall!" One last searching look, hoping for any kind of comprehension. We re dumb-struck, but manage a few nods. She walks away.
"What's really funny about that," Jim says as she turns and disappears into the church hall, "is that when she walked up to us, we were speaking English!' I guess if you're from Kirk Michael, and you see strangers in front of Collister’s shop during TT week, you just naturally conclude they're Krauts, then make the assumption (common to all British, it seems) that loud, clear English is all that should ever be required to communicate with any foreigner.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p180
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: saaz on March 26, 2014, 12:25:07 PM
Charles Jarrott retired from racing in 1905 from what he described as 'racing over the never-ending road that led to the distant, in obtainable horizon'
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 27, 2014, 09:02:51 AM
After hearing the first few pairs of bikes launch, the line starts to move back where we are. I've worked my way almost to the front. Past the chalkboard that reports conditions are essentially ideal all the way round the course. Past the plywood sign about the helmet strap. I’ve charged Kris with the task of confirming that I've not forgotten to wear the vest, that my leathers are zipped up (as a final touch, we seal the zip with a strip of matching duct tape) that my gloves and boots are firmly velcroed shut, knee sliders well stuck on, and that, most importantly, my helmet strap is, indeed, done up. He inspects them all, tugging and tightening, like one of those birds that hops around on a hippo. Paul restarts the bike, and he and Kris drift away to the side.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p184
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 28, 2014, 09:44:24 AM
If you're just riding on the road, you take the contact between your front tire and the road for granted. It rolls along in the direction and at the speed of your travel, and that’s that. It’s
different when you're racing. Small bumps in the pavement force the front wheel up- a moment of very good contact between tire and road- then the tire is briefly airborne, until the springs in the front forks, and gravity, return it to the pavement. Even when the tire is in contact with the road, the soft rubber compounds of racing tires may or may not be conforming to the surface on a microscopic scale. The way these special compounds work, the surface area of the contact patch can be much larger than what you see with your naked eye. (Imagine rubber stretching over all the tiniest grain of the pavement. Now, flatten those mountains and valleys out.) The rubber sticks to that surface like a Post-It note- so it will pull itself off the road and roll without much resistance, but stick tight and resist sliding when the bike is at an angle. All those variables influence traction and determine a racer’s confidence that a violent steering effort will steer the bike around the corner, instead of cause the front tire to slide and make him crash. Over time (and its one of the hardest skills to learn as an apprentice racer) you get to feel, through the handlebars, what your front tire is doing down there on the pavement. This is what racers mean when they say a motorcycle is "giving good feedback ".
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p186
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 29, 2014, 09:54:25 AM
It’s about now that I start to really enjoy the ride, I lose- or at least compartmentalize- the "Oh my God this is fast" thought- I stop seeing the fences and hazards- I stop thinking how
useless one hay bale is when you're passing a telephone pole at 140 miles an hour. (The only one I notice in particular, and I'll keep seeing it until the end of practice, is a bale at the exit of Greeba, which has a hand-scrawled poster on it, reading "This is Joey's famous bale”. I think the story is that Dunlop clipped it with a footpeg, ripping it apart at God-knows-how-quick a speed I can see how he would’ve, as the last right turn leading onto the Bailacraine straight tightens deceptively, at a time you really want to begin accelerating. I just about clipped it myself, and the next time through I almost hit it again because I was thinking about the last time.)
The top of Barregarrow is another one of those places where you can t see the road ahead at all. The course drifts ever so slightly then kinks left around the church and its off down the bumpy hill. On open roads, with the churchyard wall just off your left handlebar, you've slowed down for it, but now I realize that I can ride through almost flat-out. Its a place where I can hold my own, the sort of challenge you'd only find here, and I love it. But this time as I barrel through, a dark shape breaks away from the hedge and it's a good sized bird, flying right into my path. I sense, more than see, an explosion of feathers, and my view is smeared. Instinctively, I roll off, tilting my head so I can look through a spot on the visor that's still clean.
Some guy on a 250 who must have been right behind me, passes, looks back, and shakes his hand at me. The gesture could just mean "Holy Shit!" or maybe he was miming shaking off the guts.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p188
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 30, 2014, 12:53:25 PM
What I didn't know, and wouldn't until after my races, was that one of the first riders sent off in the previous session had a problem at the top of Bray Hill, just a few hundred yards down the road. His crash took place right where, in the infamous video, Paul Orritt’s bike shook, went into that wild tankslapper, and threw him down like a rag doll- a crash that was only funny because Orritt lived.
Colin Daniels didn't live. The long delay before I got to start was the time it took to clean the wreckage of his Suzuki GSX-R600 off the course. Even some of the TT’s most ardent supporters shuddered when they learned that his body- wrapped in plastic and stashed behind a nearby wall- was not moved to the morgue until after the session had ended, in order to keep the practice on schedule. In hindsight, when I put all that together, I realized why Steve was rattled. It happened right where my bike’s been shaking.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p189
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 31, 2014, 08:24:05 AM
Once again, we stage on dry pavement, but by the time I launch, it's streaming rain. My practice partner passes me on the brakes at Quarterbridge. This is getting old. I concentrate on hitting the apex and a reasonable drive off the corner, the rear spins up in the wet, but the Honda holds its line, and I have a good run to Braddan church.
At the church, I notice something: the wake of the bike ahead of ahead. Maybe I have an epiphany, aiming for late apex, winding the throttle on, and letting the spinning rear tire slide around until I'm pointing down the road. Over the next few miles, riding the CBR as though it were a little dirt bike, I catch and pass several guys. No one passes me.
I close on my next victim at the top of Barregarrow. He's in black leathers- another Newcomer, I see by the orange vest. Even in this weather, the run down to the bottom of Barregarrow is in top gear. There's a hump where the road crosses a stream, and it kinks left around a building. It's the hump, not the corner, that limits your speed. The apex marker is a cast-iron drainpipe. The first time I came through here, I found it damned intimidating- and that was on a bicycle.
I know that I'm going to carry a lot more speed through here than this guy. I plan to pass him on the bumpy straight just beyond. But as I adjust my speed and commit, Mr. Orange Vest panics and brakes extra hard. Leaned over, in the rain, with the bike unsettled by the bridge, there's no way I'm stroking the brake, I literally squeeze through the gap, brushing the drainpipe with my left shoulder, "brushing" him a little harder with the CBR's muffler. When I look back, I'm relieved to see that he's still on his wheels.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p203-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 01, 2014, 08:37:35 AM
So it was sweet when Mike [Hailwood], a genuine hero untainted by the TT boycott, came and beat Read in the TTF1 race. If people hadn't paid too much attention to the F1 class before, they did after that. And if his other races that year, including the Senior, were anti-climactic, it didn't matter. In ‘79, Mike came one last time, winning the Senior, on a Suzuki RG500. Soon afterward, Mike was killed in a road accident near his home. He'd gone out to pick up an order of fish and chips. It was a dark and stormy night. There was a truck in the middle of the road making a U-turn. Not a happy ending, I suppose, but good for the myth.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p218-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 02, 2014, 10:55:01 AM
[After the road was opened for public riding.]  Along the way we catch up to a huge crane truck loaded with at least twenty crashed bikes stacked up like cordwood. At Windy Corner, it pulls off the road to collect several more that have come to a stop in the gravel trap. On the Isle of Man, though there is no blanket speed limit, there are laws against reckless riding. To add insult to injury, every one of the riders of these bikes will be ticketed. By Manx logic, crashing proves they were riding without due care and attention.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p224
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 03, 2014, 10:45:21 AM
Dear Reader,
If Hollywood picked up this story, the script would be rewritten so that, at the story's climax, I won. But you’ve already read the climax, such as it is, of this book.
For most Newcomers, and it was perhaps especially true for me, that the goal in a first TT is to come, to qualify, to be in the show. Having earned a start, all a Newcomer can

realistically hope for is to be around at the finish.
We live in a culture that increasingly sees in black or white. The only alternative to winning is losing. Everything is neatly labelled right or wrong. Its detractors put it simply: the TT is brutal. But the TT is not simple.
When all its nuances are appreciated, it is beautiful.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p228
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 04, 2014, 09:36:47 PM
Once I'm underway, I push a little harder than I have been in practice, until I have a huge headshake. Then I go back to my baby steps approach. Still, I find myself carrying fourth gear
instead of third through the left-hander at Greeba Bridge and I carry a higher gear at Ballacraine, too. By the time I pass the Sulby Glen Hotel, David Jefferies (who broke a valve) has already coasted to a stop there and is having a pint.
So, I beat DJ.
I beat John McGuinness, too, the only way I ever will; his motor expires on the long Cronk-y-Voddy straightaway, I see and avoid the long trail of oil he left behind him.
Up on the Mountain I drag my knee in a long and satisfying way as I pass the Graham Memorial On my second lap up there somewhere, Jim Moodie (who had about half a lap's head start on me) catches me.
After the pit stop, I know that despite my best efforts, I'm running close to last. On the final lap, in survival mode, I ride just fast enough to maintain my concentration. Do I still qualify for a finisher’s medal I wonder, if I'm passed by the travelling marshals when it comes time to open the roads after the race? (Don't laugh! It happens.)
I'm held up a little when I catch some guy around the 32nd stone. He's got a little motor on me and opens up a gap, again, on the drop down toward Creg-ny-Baa, He slows me at every bend until, finally I get past him between Signpost Corner and the Nook. (Later, when I got the official times, I wondered if he prevented me from getting my "ton up' lap, but I don't think he accounted for more than a few seconds.)
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p232
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 05, 2014, 05:59:24 PM
One morning there I was- with my computer on my lap, a coffee beside me on the carpet. In the middle of typing some altogether unrelated thought, I had a vivid, vivid sense of being out on the course, I was at Greeba Bridge. You get to the bridge after the beautiful flowing section past the castle. You throttle back a little at the kennels but then its wide open through Greeba village. The road wiggles but it's easy to see a straight approach to the bridge, which is in the middle of a sweeping left turn.
This is one of the widest, smoothest parts or the TT course. I never noticed it on open roads but there's a slight hump to the bridge, right on the apex of the turn. For two weeks, I'd been taking it in third and finally fourth gear, cautiously increasing my speed each lap. But every lap, I found myself with too much road on the exit. "Too slow!" I thought, time after time.
Anyway, sitting right there on the stairs, I felt myself braking later and less, downshifting only once, instead of twice. I saw the paint mark on the bridge wall that I used as my turn-in point. I felt my left knee on the pavement, gauging a steeper lean angle- and this is the important part- I felt the bike lift over the hump in the bridge and drift wide. But I held the throttle steady. Because suddenly I knew that the road, right there, was smooth enough and wide enough that the bike would settle, the tires would grip, and I'd get through, I knew I could carry 10 or 15 miles an hour into the next acceleration zone, which is at least a thousand yards long. There were seconds to be saved there. There, again, was my hundred-mile-an-hour.
But there I was on the stairs, not on the bike where I could do anything about it.
Riding Man  Mark Gardiner p246
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 06, 2014, 05:35:16 PM
In a picture of him [the author's father] sitting on the Harley, he's garbed in heavy boots, khakis, a tight fitting white t-shirt and leather gloves. His hair is slicked back and he's wearing cool aviator shades, and no helmet.
He's also wearing a grin from ear to ear.
Turned out flying the Harley was more dangerous than B-17's and one day he almost ended up dead. A truck ran a stop sign and he laid it down, sliding underneath the trailer the truck was towing and coming out the other side. He was lucky to be alive and pretty banged up and woke up in the hospital. That was the end of his riding career, and makings of his decision as long as his boy lived under his roof, the word on motorcycles would be "no". We all make our choices, but too bad in a way about the one he made. I never saw him grin in life like he did in that picture.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 07, 2014, 07:25:56 AM
"Uncle Bernie, that is so neat-o!" It had a headlight and speedometer with little jewel like indicator lights, deeply ribbed black rubber hand grips and it was about the right size for me. If I was drooling, Bernie was kind enough not to point it out. "How fast does it go?" Then as now, speed was under my skin and still all these years later, this question is the first I think of when looking at a bike. "Aw, I dunno. Not very.” Bernie stood there, a big easy-going hulk of a man with his thumbs in his two front belt loops. He looked like he'd swallowed a whole watermelon, so distinct was his pot belly. It pushed his suspenders out to the sides. "Y’all want to ride it?"
Oh golly. That's all it took and Bernie leaped to hero status. A halo radiated around his old baseball capped head. A rush of excitement ran through me. All of a sudden I needed to pee.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 08, 2014, 11:25:56 AM
Will and Janet were working construction. I'd known Will on the periphery for a couple of years. He was a big jolly Buddha of a guy, tattooed and pierced and a colossal character. He had a sense of humour that would go way out there and come circling back around with everyone laughing until their sides hurt. He and Janet had had his and hers Harleys for years and one day they decided they'd had enough of the studded leather scene and traded them in on his and hers Vespa scooters. One baby blue and one powder pink, It takes a big man to walk a small dog. It takes an even bigger man to ride a powder blue Vespa. I bet Will had no problem carrying Janet's purse when required. The two of them created quite a stir when they would tear off in duelling ding-ding-ding two stroke engine racket and clouds of blue smoke.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p16
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 09, 2014, 09:23:57 AM
On the return leg of a trip to the east coast, one cold grey Sunday morning I was filling up the R12 at a station in farm country near Gilman, Illinois. Two guys riding tricked out Harley choppers had pulled off to the side. They came clinking and clanking over for a chat and to check out the bike. They were local to the area and their bikes were suited only for short rides. Even though they were only twenty five miles from home they had a third companion driving the pickup. BMWs by the way come with a three year road side assistance policy. Harley's come with a pickup truck. (Sorry, couldn't help it.) When they saw the New Mexico plate I had instant big cred.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p26
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 10, 2014, 11:00:21 AM
The next morning riding the To The Sun Road across Glacier and then south though Kalispell was the turning point in the trip, I was now homeward bound. I spent the night in Missoula and had the R80's oil changed at the local BMW shop. Showrooms at BMW dealerships are the ultimate candy stores. There sat a new R1100RS, a radical design departure for BMW and a beautiful bike, this one was black. I could feel the Visa card in my pocket getting hot as the bike sang the siren's song. I didn't want the R80 to catch me lusting for it. You don't want your bike getting put off with you - ever.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 11, 2014, 08:48:29 AM
"What will this cost?
“You will of course pay for the parts.'
I stammered out some objection. "No. You will work along side of me, but there will be no charge for labour."
"TJ. I need to pay you something for this." He thought about this for a moment., and said, "Some day you will know someone who will need help. Help them. That will be my only pay. This was the end of any negotiation. I stood there flabbergasted. And relieved. TJ went on. "Further, you will not ride this motorcycle back to Santa Fe. If that bearing seizes, the rear wheel will lock and you will go over the bars. You will ride my motorcycle home tonight and use it as if it was yours while we are working on
your bike." Another foregone conclusion.
I'd known TJ for about a half hour and he was handing me the keys to his bike. There are occurrences in life, you never know when or where they will come, that change the way you see, the way you are, forever. TJ opened a door. With no special effort on my part life has since included giving and receiving on a greater level than I could have imagined.
Only some of it's been around motorcycles.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p50-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 12, 2014, 07:03:41 AM
One of the good days I was carving the High Road to Taos. Curves, hills, no cages, snow capped mountains off in the distance, on the gas and in the groove. Rpm's rising and falling with perfect shifts. The bellowing exhaust note. Who cares about chicken strips? This was heaven! In Taos I stopped for gas. The station was busy. The Ducati was beautiful, that luscious coat of red paint, the bronze painted frame and wheels, gold anodized brake and suspension components, black carbon fibre mud guards and clutch cover. And of course me, stud guy in all black leathers standing there filling the tank. And this beautiful young woman walks by and smiles that kind of smile where the whole world lights up and she says, "Nice bike.”
Looking back, if I were half as intelligent as I would like to think I am, I would have dropped down on one knee right then and there and proposed marriage. And not taken no for an answer. But instead the best I could manage was squeak, "thanks." And she and her bottle of Gatorade got in her Toyota 4 Runner and were history. Damn! OK, the next time that happens I'm proposing marriage.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p64-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 13, 2014, 01:12:24 PM
The weather was mixed, and climbing into the Diamond Mountains I ran into a snow storm, it was coming down so hard and so fast, before I knew it the road was covered and there was no traffic to make tracks. I turned back. Now I was riding on snow. Like grease. I could make only the lightest inputs into the controls, picking my way down the mountain switchbacks I reached a relatively level spot and coasted to a stop. Crashing the bike was an issue but of greatest concern was faster traffic coming up behind and in the almost zero visibility not being able to slow quickly enough to avoid tail ending me.
Pulling off to the side and coming to a stop, shutting down the bike in a full on snowstorm fifty miles out in the middle of Nevada desert with visibility so low I had no idea what my surroundings were, I felt exceedingly small. It was huge out there. And save for the slight hiss of the snow hitting the ground, quiet. I considered pitching my tent and crawling into my sleeping bag and waiting it out, but the duration the severity of the storm were unknowns. Falling asleep and freezing to death was a real possibility.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p79-80
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 14, 2014, 09:54:30 AM
It had to be either Ernest Shackleton or some motorcyclist  who said,  "Adventure is  duress  seen in retrospect." So, if our adventure experiences are so unpleasant, why do we seek them?
My friend Ben and I were having a beer at a local watering hole. Ben is a Master Technician for BMW, a quiet unassuming guy who is way beyond what any certification can attest to. Ben is a master craftsman and mechanic, one of the three. We got talking about why we do this thing called motorcycling.
We determined it all comes down to survival of the fittest, or more immediately, mating. Going back to when the guy who had the skills and accepted the greatest risk came home with the biggest one, more or less. The good provider naturally gets the girl. Of course he may die in the process, but all going to die in the process, which helps get the proper perspective on risk tolerance. So, in terms motorcycling if you make it through some nasty weather this is good. If you make it through a hurricane this must be better, right? Go out and ride, and bring it on Mother Nature. You basically go through hell, but come home with tales of adventure and get the girl (giving her a gift item helps). Either that or she looks at you like you're completely out of your tree and decides to have nothing to do with you. She goes for the guy who brings home thrilling tales of high adventure with his
actuarial tables.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 15, 2014, 11:36:25 AM
Then, of course every once in a while the adventure is fun. Imagine! A few years ago, on the second day of a ride to Michigan's Upper Peninsula, I rode Route 191 from Vernal, Utah to Rock Springs, Wyoming. The section of the road east of Flaming Gorge in Wyoming just blew my socks off. It was getting on into early evening. The road climbs into high open range country, it is rolling hills with long views all around. It was late May and must have been a wet spring. It was lush, grasses were tall and thick and green and bursting with life. The sun was going down and I had the place to myself. Rolling along on the BMW, I carved into big sweeping curves one after another. Low golden sunlight streaked across the land, making the greens more intense. The temperature was dropping and the air was full of evening dampness and grass smells. Sublime. In Rock Springs I checked into a motel, and went out for some dinner feeling so alive I could barely contain it. It was a high that briefly put me in the middle of what it's all about.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p90-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 16, 2014, 10:21:34 AM
I was dreading a little jog to the south in my route. It would be eleven miles of crosswind hell. And taking that turn, indeed hell came with thick black dust, once rich topsoil blowing off plowed fields reducing visibility to where I could only hope nothing would pop into my way too late. I put the headlight onto high beam and was glad to be running an illegal but effective 100 watt lamp. If anyone was coming the other way at least there was a chance they'd see me coming. I was one happy camper coming to the end of my southward run. I turned east and pressed on to Watertown, my destination for the night.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p93
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 17, 2014, 05:16:11 PM
Eight or ten miles down the road Mo had pulled over and shut down the R6. He was off the bike and had his helmet off and was ogling over this hot rocket. It took me a while to catch up. Eventually I pulled over next to him. His eyeballs were like white china saucers with big lurid silver blue whirlpools in them. He had that silly grin and handed me the keys.
Waving his arms around, "I gotta stay away from that thing. Holy shit, it goes SO fast SO easily! I'm slicing along and look at the speedo and I'm doing a hundred!"
He collected himself as I was pulling off my helmet.  "What did you think of the Harley?" He was all proud and grins.
"Well Mo," I said, "if what you want is a cross between a motorcycle and a farm implement it's nice.” The poor guy's face dropped. After that whenever the opportunity presented itself he gave me generous rations of shit about my bikes. And I deserved every bit of it.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p106-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 18, 2014, 01:08:14 PM
Cars just sit there when you stop. A bike at least has the inherent decency, the instability if you do nothing when you stop to fall over. So, in this most basic way a bike requires your participation to make it work, that is, stick your foot out. And from this point forward a bike demands a lot more from you than a car. Bikes will always be more challenging to operate than cars, especially to operate well.
Cars are containers. You get in a car, you get on a bike. The confines of a car isolate you from your surroundings, the windshield becomes a frame and thus the outside world becomes a movie-like abstraction. On a bike you are directly in the environment. Heat, cold, wet and dry are experienced and responded to directly. You respectively sweat, shiver, swear and smile. There is no frame to constrict the view. In a car your surroundings are designed to be functional and comfortable and impress your girlfriend. Or boyfriend. On a bike your surroundings are the whole wide outside world. Thank you Mother Nature, who was busy in the environmental design studio long before cars were even a glimmer in Adam's eye.
The Making Of A Motorcyclist  Gordon Bunker  p134
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 19, 2014, 09:45:20 AM
My mouth went dry as I threw my leg over her massive bulk and settled into the seat. Her frame had been built around mine- it was like putting on a tailored smoking jacket in a gentleman's club for sociopaths. But I had no fear of consequences, none at all. Steve strapped the red emergency stop cord to my wrist and flipped up the three bright red switch covers concealing the fuel pump start, fuel management module and the engine start button. He primed the throttle and flicked the first two switches and the bike whirred, the digital instrument cluster blinking to life, tiny bulbs glowing green and needles jumping to indicate fuel and oil pressure, battery levels, engine temp, oil temp, engine revs and speed. He looked directly at me, grabbing the sides of my helmet: 'Push it.'
I nodded, looked down over the metre-wide front end surrounded by a massive green fairing, inside a cockpit of lights, gauges and switches. Fear suddenly rose up into my throat.
Before it reached my head I pushed the engine start button and she barked, shuddering alive with that unmistakeable diesel rumble.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p48-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 20, 2014, 02:07:56 PM
I tuned into the sound of her engine as my right hand rolled the throttle back and my left released the clutch. She pulled hard, rolling forward and gathering speed much faster than I'd expected. I slipped down and back into the seat base and let my feet find the pegs. Laying my chest down over the front end, I focused on the horizon and popped her into second. She was smooth and accelerating as fast as my regular bikes do.
Third gear at 2500 rpm and 100 kph dead straight no problems, I cruised to the end of the track and discovered she has the turning circle of a battleship. The wind gusts had been picking up and I was very conscious of them and the wet track, but the bike was just so big and heavy it reassured me, so by the time I'd gone down the track four times I was ready to see just how fast we could go.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p49-50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 21, 2014, 12:59:50 PM
The first orange traffic cone was coming up fast; I held the throttle open although everything told me not to, glanced down, passing 170 kph.
I don't know what the odds are, you tell me, on a windy, rainy day, but right at that moment, not one but two eagles decided to fly across the track at head height.
I pinged the movement in my line of sight, stopped my brain from making my reflexes roll off the throttle, and smashed on. At that speed hitting an eagle wasn't going to make any difference, it was all in the hands of the gods now.
Bird one didn't see me hammering at him but bird two did; he slammed on the brakes, looking for height, while I passed through the gap between them. The funny thing is, when I tell friends these sort of stories, as I've always done, they invariably say, 'Bullshit' then 'Did you get a photo?'
Well, this time I did; one of the guys was snapping away and the moment was caught on camera.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p50-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 22, 2014, 09:43:01 AM
My ride back was interrupted by the metabolic chain reaction of riding a fast but homemade experimental motorcycle down a racetrack after consuming a dodgy curry the night before, followed by coffee. As I leant forward to lie over the fuel tank, my brain put a bit too much effort into getting the gear changes right and forgot to maintain the clench and I passed what felt like a gram of gas. No problem, I thought, I can make it to the pits, get my leathers off and find a toilet before I lose my arse. Then it hit me. The tiny fart had expanded into a cubic metre of horrendous air that rose sharply up through my leathers and filled my helmet. I gagged, my eyes stung, the bike was passing 160 kph, I sat up and flipped open my visor in a desperate effort to breathe fresh air, nearly crashing when the wind hit my open lid and tried to rip my head off my shoulders.
Pulling up fast I leapt off, handed the bike to the boys and ran off pointing at the toilet block. Our bike passed the shakedown with flying colours, so did my curry.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p71-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 23, 2014, 09:48:26 AM
[Back in Perth] There was only one hitch: we had to put the bikes in crates. So I called the companies that make crates to order, but there was either no time, no response to messages or no actual sense of effort. That meant I was going to have to build the crates myself. Erwin called me from a rig somewhere in the South China Sea while I was on my way to the timber yard to ask how it was all panning out. I got as far as explaining the crates when he laughed. Shit, Pauli, you're a dumb arse,' said the man who was, to me, like a brother, mentor, friend and Yoda.
'Well, bugger you, too, champ!” I barked.
He chuckled, which annoyed me even more. 'What kind of bike is Diego riding?'
'A new BMW 650 Tourer,' I replied curtly.
'Mate, call up the Harley and BMW dealers in Perth and ask for a shipping crate. I guarantee they'll have crates out the back purpose-built for both your bikes.'
And this is why the man is a legend.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p88
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 24, 2014, 08:59:58 AM
Showered up and happy, I was back out the front or the motel, just checking out the scene while I waited for Diego- it was party time now and the street was packed with punters.
Then I saw him running towards me like someone just stole the family empanada recipe. 'Pol, Pol .... I can't believe eet ... Eet cannot be possible .. he gasped. He was really agitated, and frantically going through his jacket pockets.
'What is it, mate?
His dark Argentinean eyes fixed on me, his expression bewildered and gutted. 'I have lost the keys to both our motorcycles.'
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p93
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 25, 2014, 10:55:59 AM
Colin and I were no longer just two guys in a bar planning to go fast on a bike, we had morphed into a team- designers and builders of an outstanding motorcycle and everything that encompasses. But now we had to put it to the test, against the implacable speed-cubed law of drag. If you're male, you will understand the quest for more speed- as pointless an exercise as it may, perhaps, be perceived. All known barriers need to be pushed- whether it's a land-speed record at age 40 or peeing highest up the wall in the school urinal at age eight, its just the way it is.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p110-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 26, 2014, 10:07:23 AM
I flipped down my visor and just hammered it as hard as I could. As she leapt through the gearbox red-lining the gear changes, I held the throttle fully open the whole time and all too soon I was reaching the point where brakes would have been applied back at Tailem Bend and it would have been over at 170 kph. But this time I had more blacktop in front of me. In fourth gear I glanced down, passing 190 kph and still pulling hard as the engine started to shriek under me, vibrations reaching a crescendo as the perimeter of the runway flickered past in a sickening blur. Her revs hit the redline again and another glance down: 200 kph. She was deafening me with noise from the darker reaches of Hades, her vibrations not letting me focus my eyes on the instruments. My peripheral vision liquefied, orange cone, orange cone ... I had two more seconds on full throttle before I had to brake.
The fear, the very real moment when I reached the braking point and passed it, tore through my mind like acid; my stomach, groin and brain had turned into stone and I could feel my heart pounding on my leathers. Then it went calm, built up to the point where speed, vibration and pressure reached a bizarre balance and for a second we were just flying on air. I was laying over the bike cocooned inside the massive front fairing, wide-eyed and high as a kite, as the end of the runway hurtled towards me at somewhere over 200 kilometres per hour.
Brake! said the voice in my helmet. She dipped down hard, the front forks bottoming out as I squeezed both front and back brakes harder and harder while the end of the runway's hold lines streaked past under my face, which was now doing Edward Munch's 'The Scream' as I desperately tried to stop the bike before we hit the end.
We stopped right on the edge.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p114-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 27, 2014, 11:23:51 AM
We didn't get there in the end, though we got very close. It only we had the chance to see what this bike could do on 16 kilometres of dry salt lake, with the proper DLRA track, officials, Federation Internationale Motorcycle timing gear and everything that makes Speed Week a world-class event. For now, Corowa’s 2 kilometre main runway was ail we had, and it was over. Frustrating does not begin to describe it. I was accelerating at a rate of 2 kilometres per hour per second; all I needed was another three or four seconds.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p117
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 28, 2014, 12:26:52 PM
The boom gate opened and we formed up in a queue waiting to enter the belly of the gargantuan ferry. While the massive line of vehicles waited to board, people got out of cars and stretched their legs, occasionally chatting with other passengers. Here we got our first look at a 'Taswegian', a species of bogan found on the Apple Isle. He emerged from a horrendously battered Kingswood that was parked next to us, wearing pyjama pants and a sauce-stained singlet, about 50, overweight; his nose alone suggested large amounts of beer were about to be consumed. He smiled and asked if we were 'goin' tourin'.
Diego froze in complete astonishment before glancing at me.
'Yup,' I replied and smiled.
'First time to Tasmania?' He was openly and unashamedly scratching his balls.
'Yes, we're really looking forward to it.'
He removed his hand from inside his pants and offered it up to shake, I stepped aside and deflected the shake to Diego. 'This is my friend Diego,' I said as the manky ball-sweat-stained-hand was redirected at Diego.
'George,' said the man.
Diego smiled serenely and put his gloves back on. Nice move, mate- and shook the offered hand then continued to smile and nod so much he started to look stroke victim. I pretended there was a problem with my bike and lay on the ground tinkering with it. Eventually the Taswegian went away and sat on the bonnet of his Kingswood, pulled out his false teeth and started polishing them with his singlet. Diego and I hid behind my bike, consumed with our all-important task of tinkering, while Diego whispered 'Unbelievable' and 'I have never seen anything like eet, Pol'.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p125-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on April 28, 2014, 01:26:03 PM
Soooooo...........what's all the fuss about, he was just trying to be sociable!! Like any good Taswegian would do!! :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on April 28, 2014, 01:48:29 PM
He had a singlet on???

Ferry crossings must be a formal occasion
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Couch on April 28, 2014, 02:28:24 PM
They are Brock, we always dress up for the occasion, it was obviously a night crossing that's why he would have had his pyjama's on! :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on April 28, 2014, 02:48:56 PM
 :beer :rofl :rofl :rofl
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 29, 2014, 11:18:55 AM
George Town offered up a warm fire, awesome hospitality and contented stomachs. Fully fuelled we consulted our map and hit the bikes. We skimmed along empty roads in a state of bliss, stopping again at Bridport, hitting some unsealed road and getting it a bit sideways on the way round, then joining up to the main road, the A3, that plugged us into St Helens for lunch and a brief game of 'Spot the Local'. Then it was back up in another big dogleg after Fingal towards the silly but fun part of the day called 'Jacobs Ladder'. This involved a world-class blat through Ben Lomond National Park; some of it was blacktop and some of it was dirt, all of it was fun. The Ladder is a curious succession of six very steep switchback hairpin climbing turns that slither up the side of the formidably wet and Scottish-looking Ben Lomond. Going off the edge of the ladder was a frightening prospect; any mistake would result in a proper caber toss into a red stain at the bottom, so we took it nice and easy to the top. Sufficiently ready to call it a day, we headed to Launceston for the night having done just over 500 ks since we landed.
Diego had it all worked out. 'I've booked us a bakery," he said, beaming. I debated whether I should ask for an explanation then decided just to go with it.
Although I have not yet fallen at the altar of Apple and am able to say ‘There's an app for that' while someone is talking about hippo mud wrestling, I'm not too proud to admit I was glad Diego had an iPhone. When the sun is going down and you're getting cold and tired on a bike rolling down a random street in a strange town with no information and no plan, that phone is a crackerjack piece of kit.
We pulled up at the rear car park, checked into bakery (converted into a very nice hotel) and enjoyed another great meal. I fell asleep to the sound of rain on the tin roof and thoughts of home.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p134-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 30, 2014, 10:20:55 AM
'Well, it would have been in the 60s. Dad was flying Javelins, I believe.'
He smiled. 'Wonderful aircraft. So is he a bike nut, too?'
I laughed. 'Mad for them, cost him dearly, though.' I went on, 'He got smashed in the officers' mess one day and on a dare tried to ride his bike right through the bar ...
Jethro sat forward, his face lit up and to my complete surprise finished the story off. 'He rode up the steps to the entrance, paused on the nice clean red carpet that ran the entire length of the hall, dropped the clutch and sat there pissed while the long red carpet was hurtled out the door under the spinning wheel. He runs out of carpet, the back wheel hits floorboards, flipping his Vincent up into a trophy cabinet, then bursts into flames and the whole bloody place nearly goes up- your dad's a legend.' I was speechless that Jethro knew the story which I had grown up with.
'You know, that bike is mounted on the wall behind now. I used to stand there with a pint looking at it.'
Now I was really stunned; my dad's bike decorating a bar, that I did not know.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p141-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 01, 2014, 11:07:56 AM
The asphalt gods were good to us that morning, the beautiful green undulating hills revealing picture-postcard town after town with names like Snug, Flowerpot and Woodstock. The road, however, was the opposite of its laidback sleepy surrounds; it was draped like a discarded black necktie over the landscape, serious aggressive riding; as soon as you're out of a blind turn you're already setting up and looking for your exit from the next one. Concentration on the relentless corners should be forcing you to slow down and enjoy the surrounds a bit more. Instead we opted for the riding experience, though we did stop at every town to take a look and almost every town had something interesting to look at as well as the occasional tourist coach to avoid slamming into the back of. It was a weird time of year to tour Tasmania, in between the energetic grey nomad ramblers of summer and the winter walkers.
As we hit the bottom of this little cape, the road offered up wonderful sweeping seaside corners that gave a visual all-clear for any other traffic and an open invitation to lay the bike over, drop a gear and use the whole road to take it as fast as you can. And that's where the local police will nab your arse for speeding, lesson learnt. Speeding fine neatly folded in my wallet and a friendly wave from the cop who just blew my beer money, we mooched along well under the limit back up the other side of the cape till we hit the A6 at Huonville, turned left and tracked down to Southport. I started thinking about the endless choices for dinner; the food was good, really good here. Progress was stress-free, and we had plenty of time to admire the views.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p146-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 02, 2014, 08:53:50 AM
Last night over a counter meal at the bar- after I'd explained to the locals that we're not a gay couple, but if we were I'd be the man gay because I don't eat quiche I eat egg-and-bacon pie, and I'm not wearing a cravat- Diego and I looked at the map and decided to ride directly across Tasmania from right to left, so that was the plan for the day: head out from St Helens straight across to Queenstown with a dip down to Melton Mowbray in the middle.
I had time for a quick shower and to get my gear and I was out the front in fifteen, then had a few more minutes to warm up my bike while Diego did his legover and mounted his. We fuelled up and blazed our way south, criss-crossing the landscape as the sun slowly warmed the earth. As usual there was no one else on and we took it in turns to lead through k after k of increasingly faster bends, cutting our way through the patchwork of lime green and banana yellow fields to hit our lefthander at the Midland Highway and start the dogleg down to Melton Mowbray.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p156
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 03, 2014, 10:09:32 AM
Diego came out into the sun and fired me 'Come, Pol, let us ride into the mountains.' He grinned at a random passerby, swaggered over to his bike then stopped and pointed at the road in front of him where two thick black burnt-rubber tyre marks snaked up the road courtesy of some idiotic petrol head. 'Look, Pol, ees bogan tracks,' Diego said, proudly showing off his command of the vernacular. Then he pushed his bike forward onto the road looking like a midget walking a rhino, humped his leg over it and rode off down the street.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p157-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 04, 2014, 12:20:12 PM
We slid and roared into an ancient forest, shattering the silence and tearing up the dust. My bike stayed as slick and slippery as Diego in a dinner jacket and I was having a ball. We were still climbing as the woods became thick with heatless layers of light, mist and cloud evolving above the treeline, then descending past us into the folds of the valleys, filling up like a Spielberg effect below me.
We rounded another climbing lefthander side by side, then on the apex of the bend we heard it first, a residual rumble over the top of our engines, bouncing and reverberating off the forest at us. Then two massive lumber trucks, also running side by side, rounded the corner straight at us. With only seconds to react we just fluked it and made the right choices. Diego and I came together in the middle and the two trucks separated and ran the outside. Everyone entered the massive dust cloud together. The trucks made a hole, Diego and I touched elbows, gritted teeth and disappeared into it. As soon as we passed the trucks and were out the other side, we both stopped and sat there for a few moments, completely blind in a red cloud until the dust started to settle and we could actually see one another. I was about to say something but Diego just gave a mumbled shout from inside his helmet and bolted off, leaving me in another cloud. I love that crazy bastard.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p158-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 05, 2014, 12:45:29 PM
Diego had noticed a sign just up the road and wandered over to take a closer look. 'Pol, how big do the kangaroos get here?' he asked, pointing at the sign.
I looked at the sign and it, combined with Diego's quizzical face distended in real concern, made me laugh. The sign was definitely not to scale and I could see how it could be confusing for a foreigner. It appeared to be saying three things to the happy motorist: first, you should be doing 65 kph; secondly, under the heading 'Wildlife', there was a visual warning of giant albino kangaroos as big as your car; and lastly that they will from 'dusk to dawn' leap out of the bush and perform a snatch-lift your front bumper. All it needed was a Monty Python foot smashing down on you as you read the sign.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p162
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STroppy on May 05, 2014, 04:29:50 PM
GETTING THERE IS ONLY HALF THE FUN, AS GETTING THERE AND BACK!

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 06, 2014, 09:12:38 AM
I woke with a start, almost rolling off the bench. Diego was snoring, his empty mug still sitting on his chest slowly I going up and down. I checked my watch; two hours had gone by, we were losing daylight fast. I gave him a shake and we both lumbered round the corner towards the bikes, only to discover two large salty-looking possums trying to hotwire my Harley.
They had already dumped the contents of one of my saddlebags on the ground and had a good look through my shaving kit, managing to also cover each other in shaving cream.
Sprung, they ran off into the trees and sat there above us, chewing on my muesli bars and smelling of lemon.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p163-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STroppy on May 06, 2014, 09:22:22 AM
NO, LIFE ISN'T WHAT I WANTED, HAVE YOU GOT ANYTHING ELSE?
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 07, 2014, 10:05:34 AM
I heard the car before I saw it. Sally and Simon Dominguez's battleship-sized 1979 Special Edition 'Bill Blass' Lincoln Continental. Even though they weren't deliberately driving like maniacs, the massive 21-foot- long two-door coupe’s tyres squealed like dying rabbits as they hurtled rounded the corner and pulled up in the car park grinning like a couple of outpatients. The Lincoln was all blue leather, the hula-hoop-sized steering wheel sat in front of the hilarious instrument cluster; all chrome and long with a Cartier clock at the end, it looked like my grandmother's silver service. Simon sat in the back sprawled out like a pungent bum in a leather dumpster. The car was bigger than the flat I grew up in.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p180
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STroppy on May 07, 2014, 03:18:06 PM
What good is it if I talk in flowers while you listen in pastry?


When I say nothing, I don't necessarily mean nothing.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 08, 2014, 08:38:58 AM
'Nice lid,' he said as I bounded up the steps to his porch. 'Pity.' He gulped his coffee.
'What is?' I asked, sitting down.
'The dog's pissing in it.'
'What?'
I spun around in time to see Boston shaking off the last few drops on the rim of my upturned no-Ionger-smells-like-brand-new carbon-fibre helmet. That dog lets go like a racehorse. I spent an hour washing it out while Erwin got his bike out of storage mode. He kept laughing whenever the image of Boston popped into head. 'Sorry, mate,' he said repeatedly. 'Hows your lid?' I had finished hand-washing the liner and scrubbing out the inside, but it didn't really matter what or how much I tried. I slipped my head inside its super-light carbon Darth Vader slick cottonwool internals, and for a second everything was fine, like shoving your head into an Aston Martin's glovebox, then finding a sodden nappy in the corner.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p205-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Shiney on May 08, 2014, 10:02:28 AM
Hi,
I just wanted to say thank you for your continued efforts Biggles, I love reading the extracts from all the books you post up for us :-++ :-++ :-++ :-++ :-++ :-++ :-++ :-++
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 09, 2014, 09:21:53 AM
First it was a little grunt, followed by the smell; I knew before I turned around what I was going to see. Take one post-spaghetti-bolognaise-fed toddler, place padded comfy-looking receptacle within range, in this case my clean lid sitting hollow side up and supported on all sides, for protection in transit, on top of my leathers and boots, then simply turn your back and let it happen. Sid was not wearing a nappy and, unlike his sister who was very good at announcing her intentions, he simply gave you a three-second warning before he defecated on the spot. So we always had his potty within his window, but this time his potty was not in the garage, so he just improvised and went ahead and backed one out in my lid. 'Daddy, ka ka,' his little voice came seconds later. I turned around and, yes, there he was, bless him.
i didn't react, I just picked him up and carried him into the bathroom and cleaned him up. We walked back down to the garage together and he went quietly back to playing with my socket set while I dropped a thousand dollars of carbon-fibre helmet into a plastic bag and threw it in the bin.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p221-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 10, 2014, 09:38:01 AM
Next was scrutineering or tech inspection, where the DLRA officials make sure that your vehicle is good to go. The rulebook is thick and very detailed so this isn't a hasty process. I jumped on the bike and rode it over to the three-lane queue forming for inspection. The vehicles that started lining up looked incredible and their noise alone vibrated right through my body: fully retro-styled hotrods, cigar-tube Lakesters with mirror-polished giant wheels jutting out that looked like full-size 1950s toy cars, the full spec Streamliners ready to push 300 mph, a Jaguar E type and an XJS, a 356 Porsche Speedster-  there was even an old split-windscreen Volkswagen Kombi in there, and a truck. The bikes were equally diverse and abundant, from a Honda CT 110 postie bike capable of more than 80 mph to vintage to ultra-modern, the lot.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p234
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 11, 2014, 11:56:18 AM
As far as Speed Week goes, it's 90 per cent waiting and 10 per cent racing.
'How'd you go?' The starter at the GPS track yelled at me, smiling with his big hat on.
I smiled back in my helmet and gave him the thumbs-up. 'Can I go over to the right?'
He nodded. 'Crosswind?'
I shifted over slightly to the right, primed myself and the bike, gave the starter the nod.
'Stand by... Visor down... Go!
Exactly the same thing happened again, at the same point: the crosswind collected me, but this time I held power, leant into the wind way past my comfort zone and held my breath, letting go on the power as the bike wobbled through the loose salt in the middle and slid towards the left edge. I remembered not to sit up or touch the brakes and changed down very late to avoid compression lock on the back wheel. The result was 95.5 mph, 153 kph.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p243-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 12, 2014, 08:34:41 AM
Lake Gairdner is widely recognised as being just as good as Bonneville, the slightly fat but funny little sister of the queen of speed in the USA. As I rolled towards my third run, she reminded me that although fun to be around, and good to look at, she's got gas, and can ruin your day if you don't give her the respect she deserves. It was at this moment she blew one of her 30 kph crosswinds at the queue and half a dozen riders stack it, including me.
Embarrassed by this, everyone sprang up and immediately heaved their bikes off the ground. It took four guys to get mine back on two wheels and, unbeknown to me at the time, I had just fractured my L5 vertebra; that is to say, a half-tonne bike falling on you is going to hurt and it did, but I did what men do and ate painkillers to shake it off.
Half a box of Tramadol later I was back at the start line; the starter, still grinning, jogged over. 'You again, we need to stop meeting like this.' He leant in to remind me of the gusting crosswind somewhere after the first mile and asked if I was sure I wanted to make a run.
I nodded and flicked my visor down.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p244-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 13, 2014, 09:16:47 AM
We loaded the bike into the trailer and headed down to the main track where only a handful of cars and bikes had qualified to race the full 8 miles. We pulled out deck-chairs and sat on the roof of the trailer with umbrellas, watching the show. And what a show it was. One car flipped at over 150 mph; its nose lifting and swapping ends mid-air, it smashed its way down the track several times while we stood on the roof frozen. The driver was pulled out with only eight-ball haemorrhages in his eyes, other than that he was fine. The safety procedures at Speed Weed work. But I was amazed that his first bounce covered 130 metres in distance, and totally floored when the driver announced he was ready to get back and do it again.
I watched other bike riders get hit by that potentially lethal crosswind and get the wobbles on, sliding all over the track at more than 200 mph, then regain control and hammer on.
There were a few who came off, but they all walked away. Well, except for the two guys who came off their bikes on the way home; one broke his neck, the other his femur.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p249
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 14, 2014, 10:01:42 AM
[In the UK] I don't know how much time passes while I talk and Dad's chest moves in a slow, uneven rhythm with his breathing. He leaves us very quietly, just a brief last look, then his eyes close for the final time, and all the while Elisabeth talks to him, her voice so soft and reassuring. After a life that had been at times fraught with danger and so much tension, of which I only know of fragments, he had a peaceful death at home surrounded by his children and his true love. It's only now that I can start to understand how close life and death are all the time, so much closer than my rational mind can process here in my safe, secure, free western democracy. It takes on a new parallel when it's your immediate family; he was gone, just when our relationship was getting interesting. I step outside into the street with a glass of Dad's Macallan; I found the bottle in his collection, one that I gave him thirteen years ago still wrapped up, a 1969 vintage, the year I was born.
Ride Like Hell And You'll Get There  Paul Carter p254
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 15, 2014, 09:17:01 AM
Motorcyclists love to ride. They don't really have a choice when the gotta-have-a motorcycle virus strikes. Dante said when he first laid eyes on Beatrice, "Here is a deity, stronger than I, who in coming will rule over me." Many have experienced such a moment, when the heavens open and something breaks into the soul that is more powerful than anything that has come before. Musicians, artists, luminaries, and lovers of all kinds have felt touched by something far beyond what can only be described as sacred. I felt that way about motorcycles for as long as I can remember. I didn't choose to swoon over motorcycles; that love found me and pulled me as surely as the ocean draws all rivers to itself.
Riding Off The Edge Of The Map  David Bryen p5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 16, 2014, 08:56:31 AM
When I discovered counter steering I realized how the journey of life is more like riding a motorcycle than driving a car. Motorcycle riding represents the inner urge to become an individual, to ride in the raw open air without the metal cocoon of a car or the restrictions of culture. Every corner, every change in temperature, every smell becomes another opportunity to intimately touch our surroundings. The soul thrives when it steps away from the habitual because in the unknown it discovers itself. Life in its richest moments is lived counter steering.
Riding Off The Edge Of The Map  David Bryen p12-13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 18, 2014, 06:49:44 PM
While riding a motorcycle, one must discipline the mind to not look backward, but to stay attentive to the moment. It’s absolutely imperative to focus on the here and now. When we make a mistake, run wide in a corner, experience a near miss, or come across some hazard in the road, it must pass from thought immediately because the next instant requires all our concentration. A moment of inattention and boom, we’re in the ditch or some other catastrophe has struck. Memory has little value while riding. Forgetting what has passed and letting go of the fantasy of what lies ahead helps the rider alive in the creative potential of every single moment. The attention demanded of every moment while riding is one of the reasons that I love to ride; I can't be anywhere else.
Riding Off The Edge Of The Map  David Bryen p34
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 19, 2014, 08:59:36 AM
When I was teaching motorcycle safety we drove the mantra, "Keep your eyes up! Look through the corner!" into the heads of our students. However, now that I was afraid of hurting myself again, I had a compulsion to look straight down at the scary rocks on the ground. That invariably upset my balance because keeping my eyes looking up toward the horizon is essential to maintain equilibrium. My fear drew my focus to the rocks below, which upset my stability, which caused more fear.
Could I make the transition? Could I use my fright to remind me that my terror came from memory, not from what was going on in the moment? This is exactly what I have been teaching my psychotherapy clients for years! Fear comes from a story of what could happen or comes from a memory of what did happen. Those stories are useless when the task is to climb the next hill, cross the next stream. Look where you want to go! Stand up on the foot pegs! Get the weight on the back wheel! Pour on the power!
Riding Off The Edge Of The Map  David Bryen p79-80
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 20, 2014, 11:32:38 AM
Jake must have figured that my resolve to continue was waning and, thinking it was time to educate us on the nuances of riding in mud, told us, "Truck tires ride in the centre of the left and right tracks and kick the loose rocks and gooey stuff to either side of the puddle. You'll find best traction in the middle where the water will be the deepest. Drive in the deepest part of the rut. The bottom will be firm there. Give it some gas and get your weight off the front tire."
Riding Off The Edge Of The Map  David Bryen p85-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 21, 2014, 09:42:25 AM
By this time of the day, after righting our bikes so many times and standing on the foot pegs, my legs had turned into wet noodles. My mind was in worse shape. While we were sitting on the road, heaving from the exertion and our bikes clinking as they cooled off, we looked across the ravine of the hill we'd been climbing and saw hundreds of trees ripped away from the steep slope. We followed the trail of the recently slashed ground, and 400 feet beneath we saw the freshly crumpled skeleton of a dump truck that had tumbled down this mountainside, lying there like an insect belly up in its death throes. I couldn't imagine what business a dump truck would have on this nearly impassable section of road. We just shook heads. We didn't need to say much. The twisted truck, washed-out road, and stripped section of forest said it all. Worse, I still had to surmount the rock face that now looked taller than the Matterhorn.
Riding Off The Edge Of The Map  David Bryen p90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 22, 2014, 10:01:36 AM
We learn things from heroes that have gone before and use their resolve when ours is too small. But how do you know when you’re supposed to stop? How do you determine if it's the fussy voice of fear that unnecessarily paralyzes, or the voice of deeper wisdom that is calling for a legitimate retreat? How to close that troublesome eye that insists on seeing all the danger when you know your task is to focus on where you want to go? Awareness was the goal I couldn't reach. The more tired I became, the less control I had. The dreaded "what ifs" boiled through my mind without interruption.
Riding Off The Edge Of The Map  David Bryen p92
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 24, 2014, 02:52:45 PM
He went on to tell me some of the scary times he had while alone. "The road I was on forced me down this incredibly steep and crumbly section. I knew that if I started down, I wouldn't be able to turn around. At the bottom I discovered that the recent rains had washed out the bridge. In order to cross the river and get to the other side I had to pop a wheelie at the edge of the stream to get the front wheel up and over the 40-inch bank. When the front wheel cleared the lip I threw my body forward and pulled the bike with me." Jake stood up and showed the way he had to contort his body to get over the edge.
"As soon as I cleared the lip and headed up the road, the bike spun around and turned back towards the river again, and I crashed headed the wrong way. The road was too slippery to drive any further and I had no idea how I was going to turn it 180 degrees to climb the hill. While I was figuring out how to get going again, the rain started. I set up camp and waited for two days in the rain without food or water before I could move."
Riding Off The Edge Of The Map  David Bryen p178
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 25, 2014, 09:28:07 PM
From the airplane flying out of Morelos, I got a taste of the Canyon's grandeur. But the glimpse didn't take care of the hole inside me. After I returned to Ajijic and had bought another bike, I found my way to a compatible bunch of motorcycle riders and began to enjoy time with Jake again. I took many rides across the spectacular Mexican Sierra Madres and rode to some of Mexico's many beaches. I rode on some more awful dirt roads and on pavement but my heart still yearned to settle into what I'd missed in the Canyon.
My deep regret about the motorcycle adventure was not that I'd abandoned the trip or lost the bike to the drug lord and an inept insurance company, or that my bank account took a hit. It wasn't even in the physical pain I endured or hurt pride. The failure that haunted me was not having reached that place on the rim of the Canyon where I could kiss and be kissed by its majesty. My longing to get to the Canyon ate at me like a cancer. While it was spectacular to have seen it from the airplane, I missed bathing in all it had to offer. The kind of immersion I wanted would take time, long, delicious, velvety time, sitting on the edge at sunset, watching the sun etch its shadow across the Canyon walls.
Riding Off The Edge Of The Map  David Bryen p198
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 26, 2014, 05:46:37 PM
The first question which you will ask and which I must try to answer is this, 'What is the use of climbing Mount Everest?' and my answer must at once be, It is no use. There is not the slightest prospect of any gain whatsoever. Oh, we may learn a little about the behaviour of the human body at high altitudes, and possibly medical men may turn our observation to some account for the purposes of aviation. But otherwise nothing will come of it. We shall not bring back a single bit of gold or silver, not a gem, nor any coal or iron. We shall not find a single foot of earth that can be planted with crops to raise food. It's no use. So, if you cannot understand that there is something in man which responds to the challenge of this mountain and goes out to meet it, that the struggle is the struggle of life itself upward and forever upward, then you won't see why. What we get from this adventure is just sheer joy. And joy is, after all, the end of life. We do not live to eat and make money. We eat and make money to be able to enjoy life. That is what life means and what life is for.
 GEORGE MALLORY, 1922
(Yes, we know he later died climbing Everest, but that's not the point)

Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll Foreword
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 27, 2014, 10:01:48 AM
I knew everything there was to know about Australia. After watching Crocodile Dundee and Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, I knew that men wrestled crocodiles, shaved with knives and dressed up as women. From further research at the local video store, I also knew that schoolgirls shouldn't have picnics at hanging rocks, and that at any given moment you were likely to round a corner and find Jenny Agutter swimming naked in a billabong. Whatever a billabong was.
Australia was an elemental land where all the men were called Bruce, and all the women Sheila.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 28, 2014, 09:51:16 AM
'Listen,’ said Colin, coming back from the fridge with two more beers, 'the only way you're going to find out is to go there. Why don't we rustle up a couple of bikes and ride all the way around Oz on Highway One? It's only 15,000 miles or so.’ He paused. 'And besides, it's about time you learned to do a wheelie.’
 He was right. Wheelies, like stoppies, doughnuts and getting my knee down on corners, had eluded me through my short but eventful motorcycle life. You see, I may have ridden a Royal Enfield from Delhi to Belfast, a Harley from Chicago to Los Angeles and a Triumph from Chile to Alaska, but in the depths of my heart there lurked the suspicion that I was a bluffer rather than a proper biker.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll pp4-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 29, 2014, 10:54:26 AM
At around 17,500 miles, it's also the longest road in a single country in the world.
Australia's founding fathers had wanted this road to tie all the states together, giving the new country and its people a sense of unity and equality, which it did successfully for over one hundred and ten years, but I had heard that in 2010 it was due to be decommissioned as a federal highway. This meant that it would be broken up among the states, with each looking after and developing its own section as it saw fit. The road would largely remain as a physical entity, but would cease to be a single continuous body that united the entire country. No longer would those black and white signs reading simply 1 run like a ribbon around the continent. I knew that I had to travel on it before that happened.
The thought of returning to the land of sharks, snakes and road trains instilled no fear in me; instead my biggest worry telling my darling wife Catherine of my plans. She was eight months pregnant at the time and I was afraid that this could bring on early labour.
 Discretion being the better part of valour, I bravely decided to wait until Geoff and his wife Cate came over for one of our Friday night pizza sessions before breaking the news. I simply announced that I was considering quitting my job, leaving her with an infant and riding off around Australia. Then, as the enormity of what I was saying sunk in, Geoff and I made a bolt for the kitchen.
Once safely out of reach we cracked a couple of tinnies and waited until the screaming stopped,
'I think that went rather well, considering,’ said Geoff.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll pp6-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 30, 2014, 08:26:19 AM
I walked up the stairs to the book-lined study at the top of our house, lit the fire, hauled out an atlas and opened it at the map of Australia, with its familiar profile of a schnauzer gazing west. It didn't actually look any bigger than the Isle of Man from my atlas of the British Isles, so it couldn't be that difficult to circumnavigate, I thought.
I got up, poked the fire into life, picked up the phone old oak roll-top desk and called Colin to give him a good listening to. Put it this way, Colin is to talking what George Best was to drinking.
 'Here, mate, I've been talking to my publishers, and they're on for that idea of a jaunt around Oz on two motorbikes. Do you fancy it?' Then I quietly put the phone down, went downstairs, made a cup of tea, fed the cat, shaved, walked back upstairs and picked up the phone again just in time to hear Colin saying.. so to cut a long story short, I think it's a bloody good idea, mate. I'll just go and break the news to Catherine that we're definitely going to do it. She'll kill me, but it'll be worth it.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 31, 2014, 09:28:25 AM
'Cate, I was just talking to Colin about another book, and I wanted to see what you thought,’ I said. 'Don't tell me: around Australia on two motorbikes,’ she said.
I know she's a psychologist, I thought as I went to open a bottle of wine, but it's still spooky how much she knows about what I'm thinking before I've even had a chance to think it.
 We filled our glasses and touched them with that old Turkish toast: 'Cam cam'a degil can can'a' - 'Not glass to glass, but soul to soul’. They met with a bright tinkle, an optimistic sound which drifted out through the French windows and rose into the sky, to join the stars as they looked down on that moment which is one of the rare, perfect moments of life, like the moment when you fall in love, or fling open morning shutters on a new city and go walking into streets fresh with rain, or land an aeroplane so gently that you do not even feel when the wheels touch the ground. The moment when an adventure begins.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 01, 2014, 08:36:34 AM
We set off, with first Colin, then me, taking the lead and Paul in behind. I don't know about Colin, but with an ex-police biker watching my every move, I was riding like a granny on Valium. After half an hour, Paul pulled us in for a natter. 'Right, you both need to ride faster. There's no point being on a bike if you don't make progress by overtaking and filtering past slow-moving traffic. Colin, you could be faster through corners as well, and Geoff, you seem obsessed with riding down the middle of the road,’ he said.
'Listen, the first LP I bought was Neil Diamond's Twelve Greatest Hits, and I've been middle of the road ever since,’ I said lamely, and we set off again, making progress, filtering furiously, making our way to the front of the queue at traffic lights, and generally behaving like well-mannered kings of the road. Especially since we'd just been told by an ex-cop to ride faster.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 02, 2014, 08:16:48 AM
It's not the wombats that you have to worry about, it's the emus! Next to sheep, they're known to be the dumbest animals that God ever put life into. They run at 60-80 kph beside you before suddenly changing direction ... straight in front of you! The good news is that if you hit them at just the right speed they'll deflect off your fairing and spin down the side of your bike, giving it a nice clean as they do so, sort of like going through an automated car wash. Then there are the snakes which like to sunbathe on the roads, and don't get me started on the kangaroos ... happy travels.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll pp25-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 03, 2014, 11:07:35 AM
By the time we got onto the plane for the short hop to Adelaide the next morning, I had become convinced that the Australian Government was putting Prozac in the water, since every single person we had met since we arrived had been unfailingly cheery, optimistic and helpful. Including the drug- sniffer dog at the airport. It was an impression confirmed by the fact that among the duty-free items for sale in the Qantas in-flight magazine was a guitar, presumably in case everyone on board fancied a good old sing-song.
 However, that discovery was not the highlight of the day. It was not even picking up the back-up vehicle, a Toyota Hiace High Top with 652,425 km on the clock which the chaps at Wicked Campers had painted up for us with inspired combination of bike adventure graphics and rude  quotations.
No, it was the moment when we collected the keys of two Tigers from the Triumph dealer in Adelaide, started up the engine and I heard that sweet hum which had accompanied me all the way from Chile to Alaska on my previous adventure, and was again in this moment the sound of freedom and the
open road.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p32
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 04, 2014, 09:12:25 AM
The next day, the three of us that were left- me, Colin and Matt - rose early and rode north heading for the city of Canberra. Our journey took us along a tree-lined high way through rolling parkland which had climbed to high sierras by the time we stopped for a break at noon. As we sat in the shade outside a roadhouse, three Harley riders rolled in and walked inside with a nod.
 'So sad the way middle-aged men feel the need to go riding around on motorbikes so they can feel like heroes,’ I said.
'Aye, what's that all about?' said Matt.
 'Beats me,’ said Colin, and we rode on, passing some wonderful old cars out for a Sunday drive - an acid-yellow Ford V8, a purple Valiant, an endless black Cadillac with fins and whitewall tyres, and a silver E-Type convertible. Australia, like California, is a land where the climate is kind to ancient metal.
The afternoon stretched on, languid and hot, and to stop myself from nodding off, I kept myself amused by spotting road signs such as 'Gordon Exit Here', and wondering how many Gordons had exited, then wondered why; or 'Howlong This Exit', and muttering happily to the inside of my helmet, 'Not so long, thanks for asking.‘
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p77
   
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 05, 2014, 08:24:31 AM
We had spent the morning exploring the only other real attraction in the city - the new parliament building, which looks like a Neolithic burial mound about to blast off into space. Not that the building was even the real highlight of trip there. That honour goes to the magnificently Australian conversation we had with the policeman who arrived on his mountain bike as I was getting off the Triumph.
'G'Day, mate. Listen, if you park there, it means a fine for you and a shitload of paperwork for me. But if you park over there, it means none of the above, and we're both apples. Nice bike, by the way. Used to have a Bonnie, but these days I've got a nice little Yamaha.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p85
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 06, 2014, 08:52:54 AM
Later that day we made our way to Deus Ex Machina, the motorcycle company operating from a renovated factory in Camperdown, Sydney.
All devotees of Greek and Latin drama, which I'm sure includes all of you, will know that the phrase Deus Ex Machina means 'God from the machine', and is a device used by crap playwrights when they realise they've only got one minute left in the last act and no denouement in sight. Solution: enter God stage-left with magic wand, and all sorted.
 He'd certainly been busy inside Deus, I thought as we wandered around looking at bog-standard bikes which had been transformed into works of art. Two of the men behind this magic are Dare Jennings, who used to run the surf-clothing giant Mambo before he and a couple of friends started Deus in 1996, and head of sales Shaun Zammit.
 'Here, are your parents from the planet Krypton, or do you guys just pick your names out of a Superman comic?' I said to Shaun as we stood looking at a Triumph Thruxton, already my favourite bike in the world, which the mechanics at Deus had made even faster and more beautiful, a thing I had previously thought impossible.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p97
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 07, 2014, 10:43:03 AM
Back then, bikers had such a bad reputation that every time Margaret and Brian went touring, they had to book ahead so that motel owners wouldn't run away screaming when they rolled up on two wheels.
 'Then one day in the late nineties we arrived in Nabiac and everyone treated us like human beings, so we bought a plot of land and built the museum,’ said Margaret. 'Here, what are you doing wearing a Deus Ex Machina T-shirt? Don't you know that most of their clients are gay men with more money than sense?'
 'Well, I'm not gay, and I haven't got either,' I said. 'Anyway, it was reduced from $70 to $15.’
'$70 for a T-shirt? Bloody hell!’ Having sorted out Deus, she then led us on a happy hour around the eight hundred motorcycles in the collection, accompanied by her arthritic chihuahua, Acme.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p103
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 08, 2014, 02:23:36 PM
For me, the most emotional moment was filming a piece for the documentary while sitting on a 1937 Rudge Ulster similar to the one my dad raced in the fifties, complete with ancient leathers, gauntlets and pudding bowl helmet. As I talked, I was filled with melancholy thinking of him as he is now at the age of eighty-four, 'old and grey and full of sleep', and of the man he was when he tore around circuits on motorcycles such as this, filled with vim and vigour in the days when he met and fell in love with my mother.
How sad it is, that we all grow old, I thought, then dealt with that sadness in the only way I know, by getting on a motorcycle and riding into the newborn day, holding aloft the torch of hope and optimism against the darkness of the unknown future and my own advancing years.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p104
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 09, 2014, 09:08:27 AM
All men want to be heroes, you see, especially to their wives, but in their misguided minds, they think the way to do it is by going out and flying aeroplanes or riding motorbikes across continents, whereas the still, silent truth is that they would probably do it better by staying at home and doing the dishes.
And talking of dishes, several weeks after this, I read a wonderful thing in a magazine in Broome: that in Italian, the word for table, tavola, is masculine until the table is set, when it becomes feminine.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p109-110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 10, 2014, 08:49:59 AM
By this stage Geoff had caught up with us, just in time for to run into some roadworks. 'Think we're gonna get pretty wet soon,' the ganger holding the stop/go pole told us.
 We told him we already had. Twice. But that we had just laughed it off as the rain was warm, plus we were hard-assed bikers who feared nothing but a lack of pies and beer. Unfazed by our chutzpah, he said, 'We had a shower last night – about two inches it was. Think we might get another one today.’
We wished him well, handed him a snorkel and sped on.
 As the roadworker had predicted, we were alternately drenched by rain and dried by sunshine as we rode along. The rain stung our hands, since it was too hot for gloves, but it was a good-to-be-alive kind of stinging.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 11, 2014, 08:47:42 AM
'Oi, you don't wanna ride Triumphs, mate. AJS is the bike,’ he said, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a large AJS tattoo. 'I used to ride everywhere with me mate on ours until he went straight on at a bend and came a cropper on a barbed wire fence. Right across the neck. Nasty.
Having thus failed his interview as head of marketing for AJS, he pottered off.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p113
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 12, 2014, 05:04:39 PM
Zen had succeeded where conflict would have failed, and perhaps it was that which led to the feeling of beautiful contentment I had as we rode up the Sunshine Coast that morning. Or perhaps it was because we had cast off our jackets and were riding in our T-shirts, feeling like boys on bicycles on our summer holidays, filled with that gloriously youthful sense whole lives in front of us, filled with infinite possibilities. Or perhaps it was as a result of weeks of being surrounded by people living in the endless summer that is Australia. Whatever it was, it lasted all the livelong day, as we sped north along the section of Highway One called the Bruce Highway, with jagged blue mountains shimmering in the distance and in the foreground a vista of hills and dales, forests and streams, pine trees and palms, like the love child of Scotland and Barbados.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p116
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 13, 2014, 12:24:59 PM
From time to time we were stopped by the roadworks which will turn Highway One from two lanes into four, after which it will presumably be known as the Bruce and Sheila Dual Carriageway.
The great thing about bikes at roadwork queues, of course, is that you can filter all the way to the front, and this afternoon Colin set a new world record as he led the way to the front of a two-mile tailback just as the man with the 'Stop' sign swung it around to 'Slow'.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p118
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 14, 2014, 05:41:32 PM
All too aware that this was the witching hour for Australian wildlife, we kept a careful eye out for assorted kangaroos, wombats, koalas and funnel-web spiders as, at speeds which would have had us in a Van Diemen's Land chain gang had there been any traffic cops about, we swooped and dived through lush grassland, copse and sugar plantations, on a road of such seductive curves that if it had been a woman, you would have married her and had her children, never mind the pain.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p118-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Sicman on June 14, 2014, 08:30:04 PM
You know  :think1 I have never heard a motorcycle talk let along give a quote of the day  :think1 :whistle :crazy :grin :hijacked but all power to those who have heard one  :-++ :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on June 14, 2014, 09:28:05 PM
Sicman,

Leave Biggles alone, he is enjoying himself and not getting into trouble... :cop
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Sicman on June 14, 2014, 10:16:00 PM
Sorry - Just seeing if the fishing was getting results today ;-*
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 14, 2014, 10:33:33 PM
Sorry - Just seeing if the fishing was getting results today ;-*

No bites from me.  I know what I know.    :p
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Sicman on June 14, 2014, 10:35:41 PM
As expected  :wink1 :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 15, 2014, 12:02:31 PM
I stood there for a long time, filled with the happiness which being around old aeroplanes and motorcycles creates in me, possibly because it blesses me by osmosis with a ghost of the heroism of the men who flew and rode them, and then I got on more modern motorcycle and rode west into the late afternoon, imagining as I did that, as well as the hum of the engine, I heard an echo of another sound, the thrumming of ancient Avros and de Havillands heading home through the dying light of the day.
 And then I realised that the thrumming was coming from below me, accompanied by a staccato thudding against my boots. Looking down, I saw that they were liberally covered with bits of dead insect, and realised that Ray's grasshopper plague had come to pass. He'd just exaggerated the height they could jump.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p129
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 16, 2014, 09:10:55 AM
And if you're wondering why the Corones Hotel is my favourite venue tor the founding of Qantas, it's partly because Poppa Corones allegedly proposed that the airline's first planes should be named after the figures of Greek mythology, such as Hermes and Pegasus, and as a reward was granted the Qantas catering contract so that, as every plane touched down at Charleville, his staff were already on their way across the grass with food, white table linen and silver service. And even more, because when Amy Johnson stopped to refuel at Charleville during her epic flight from England to Australia in 1930, she stayed at the Corones and asked Poppa for a champagne bath to celebrate the fact that the most dangerous part of her journey was over.
Poppa duly filled a bath with sixteen bottles and, not being a man to waste a penny, not only managed to rebottle the champagne after Amy had left, but ended up with seventeen bottles, so heaven knows what Amy got up to in that bath.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p129
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on June 16, 2014, 05:32:21 PM
This bloke is really enjoying Australia.   ++


 :bl11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 17, 2014, 08:58:25 AM
Our bad-luck streak hadn't quite run out though as, just out of town, Matt was pulled over by the police for driving too close to Geoff. I chucked a Uey to have word as Matt pulled away, and the cop, who was actually pretty friendly, said, 'I just thought he was driving too close to your mate, and didn't know you were all travelling together, no worries mate.
After driving along the same dead-straight road for another 80km, Geoff and I were pulled over outside a police station in the middle of nowhere - the same cop we had encountered earlier was now doing random breath tests. We reckoned that he and his partner were just bored and wanted to have a look at the bikes, and sure enough, one of them turned out to be a biker.
 After they had breathalysed us, and Geoff revealed he had left his licence at home - 'It's okay, too much paperwork mate' - we had a yarn about what we were up to and they told us that the next bend was 480 kilometres away.
‘We'll have to be re-trained,’ I said
 'No worries. Once you turn right there, there's another couple of bends before Darwin - you'll love it, it's really interesting bike country.’
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p138-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 18, 2014, 09:42:08 AM
To relieve the boredom of the endless straights, Colin and I finally decided to put them to some use by having a race, and as we were hurtling along side by side at a shade over 130mph, the thought suddenly occurred to me that this was only the average speed of the Isle of Man TT lap record set by John McGuinness the year before on winding country roads. It was about time we slowed down anyway, since a wind had sprung up from nowhere, flinging us this way and that across the road, and we found the reason why when we stopped to refuel; a sign in the window of the filling station saying, 'Fishing contest cancelled due to cyclone'. 'You're lucky. Today's just the end of it,’ said the woman behind the counter.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p141
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 19, 2014, 09:19:58 AM
Then, all of a sudden, red sandstone bluffs began fisting through the sunbaked earth, and before we knew it, we had dipped into the gorge of the Victoria River, winding through the dappled shade with the sun dancing cool blue on the river to our right and hot red on the cliffs to our left. We swooped around corners, like boys reborn. The scenery and grandeur lifted our mood after the enforced captivity of Darwin and we each hummed tunes as we sped along. We felt like the whistling kites that circled above us as we swooped through the valleys, the road rising and falling as it cut its way around the mountains. Black and white cockatoos kept us company as we drove, with the only downside being the occasional smell of death as we passed yet another wildlife traffic victim. Even cattle aren't safe from the road trains, and we saw at least two cows by the side of the road, slowly putrefying in the heat.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p161
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 20, 2014, 09:31:26 AM
West Australians are known as 'sandgropers' by the other states and looking around it was easy to see why. This area had very little soil but an abundance of white sand and it seems the local plants have evolved to survive in it. Unfortunately the town of Eucla hadn't fared so well as, back in the nineteenth centurv  it had been completely swallowed up by the shifting sand only to emerge every now and then, perfectly preserved, before being swallowed up again.
A sign from the local police kept me amused for the next few miles. It informed passing drivers that the local fuzz were 'targeting fatigue' and I wondered how they went about doing that. If they saw your eyelids drooping, did they jump out of the bushes and offer you a coffee? Or a pillow and a blanket? Maybe they drive you back to the station and tuck you in and read you a bedtime story. The possibilities for positive public relations seemed endless.
Clearly I was in need of a break, so we stopped at a hamlet called Edeabba, where we spotted a sign at the local football oval reading 'Beware Falling Limbs.' I looked at Geoff and checked my own, but they all seemed to be well attached.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p193
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 21, 2014, 11:43:43 AM
We left at lunchtime, riding south in glorious sunshine and equable warmth, bliss after the heat and humidity of the north, through gum trees lining cow meadows and vineyards, until at last - Colin and Paul having gone ahead - I found myself riding behind an immaculately restored pearl grey and indigo Jaguar.
As we fell together through the chiaroscuro of the late afternoon light through the trees, it was as if we slowly slipped back into a more elegant age, so that instead of riding a modern Triumph, I was astride a Vincent Rapide or Brough Superior, wearing a houndstooth jacket and soft-collared shirt, goggles and tweed cap reversed, on my way home to a little house in a grove tor a supper of Lancashire hotpot and Spitfire ale with my wife.
 But my wife was far away across the world, so when we arrived in Margaret River I had a takeaway pizza and a glass of wine, then fell asleep in a backpackers' dorm, my heart filled with melancholy.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p196-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 23, 2014, 08:26:11 AM
The next day, with time now on our hands after the long days in the Northern Territory and Western Australia, what bliss it was to wake late, have a leisurely breakfast and then gain all the time lost anyway by flinging the bikes around the curves of the road to Nannup, a sleepy hollow of wooden houses, a bowling green and a little cafe where we sat outside in the sun drinking organic hand-knitted free-range cappomochafrappuchinos and passing the time of day with locals walking their dogs or just themselves.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p201
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 24, 2014, 09:07:06 AM
The next morning, we were filling up at the village petrol station when owner Mick Cassidy pointed to a postcard on the wall behind him of a naked woman sprinting across the road. 'The Nullarbor Nymph, lads. Keep your eyes peeled for her, for very few are lucky enough to see her,’ he said in an accent which still had traces of London. 'Where are you from, Mick?' I said, handing over my credit card.
 'Wembley. You know, where our lot always beat you lot at football. Came out here to help my brother run the local store, then had to close it fifteen years ago when the gold mine closed down. One hundred and fifty miners left with their families and houses, and that was the beginning of the end for Norseman. Oh, and I don't want to see you lads again today.’
'Why not?
'Because I'm the local undertaker's assistant as well.’
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p207
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 25, 2014, 10:05:29 AM
Balladonia had achieved brief global glory in 1979 when the space station Skylab broke up on re-entry and fell it, after which President Jimmy Carter phoned the mayor to apologise and a brief industry sprang up overnight selling T-shirts saying 'I Survived Skylab'.
Today, the attractions of the town are even more down to earth. I had plenty of time to think about them, since they were listed on a series of signs by the road into town cunningly calculated to build the hysteria up to near danger levels: 'Swimming Pool'; 'Children's Playground'; 'Cappuccino'.
As if that wasn't enough excitement for one day, shortly afterwards was the start of a ninety-mile stretch, known for being the longest straight road in the world.
As we rode along it for mile after endless mile, I could not help but think that Zen Buddhists spend a lot of time meditating to find the nothingness at the centre of their being, which is traditionally an inch and a half above the centre of their navels. I've got news for you, chaps. You're wasting your time. The nothingness you seek is in the Nullarbor, which is full of the stuff.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p209
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 26, 2014, 09:50:05 AM
All of a sudden we came upon the Madura Pass, where the flat plain suddenly drops away towards the Great Australian Bight, offering an astounding view of the plain from above. It looked just like the Serengeti, minus the herds of wildebeest. It was breathtaking. At Madura Roadhouse the next day, the halfway point between Perth and Adelaide, we sat drinking coffee and looking down the hill at the Nullarbor stretching out to the horizon.
On the roadhouse sound system was The Power of Love', that old eighties power ballad which made women come over all funny at the end of discos and men glad they did.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p210
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 27, 2014, 09:49:33 AM
Certainly waking up these last few mornings of the adventure was a bittersweet feeling: on the one hand I was looking forward to going home, to sleeping in my own bed and having all the old familiar things around me, yet knew that, as always, I would miss getting up every morning, putting all my stuff on a motorbike and riding off down the open road in the early morning sun, not having a clue what the day would bring.
As this morning proved, for we had been on the road a mere half an hour when we spotted three Royal Enfields parked by the side of the road, as Enfields often are. As I knew only too well, from having ridden one back to the UK from India where they are still made, the vagaries of old British bikes combined with Indian quality control created a machine on which even a trip to the shops was an adventure, although radical innovations such as electric start and a unit construction engine have more recently given them a disturbing reputation for reliability. These ones turned out to be owned by Ian, Charles and Russell, who were making their way back from the Hutt River fortieth anniversary, having ridden all the way across the Nullarbor to get there. Naturally, since you can take the Enfield out of India but not India out of the Enfield, Charles had spent several days in Perth while most of his engine was rebuilt.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p212
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 28, 2014, 11:18:36 AM
In a way, they were following in the honourable tradition of Winifred Wells, who in 1950 at the age of twenty-two rode an Enfield 350 all the way from Sydney to Perth and back on dirt roads at the height of summer, arrived back and announced that her machine hadn't missed a beat. She is still alive and well at the age of eighty-two.
How strange and wonderful it was, though, to watch them kick-start the bikes into life, to drink in the familiar heartbeat of single cylinder engine, like the purr of a lion after eating a particularly satisfying wildebeest, and then to ride with them for the rest of the day, feeling for all the world as if I was back crossing the burning sands of Persia with Paddy Minne the world-famous Franco-Belgian motorcycle mechanic, Enfields painted pillar-box red and lemon yellow, on my first motorcycle adventure twelve years before.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p213
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 29, 2014, 05:37:45 PM
On the stroke of noon, we dismounted in Penwortham, walked up a grassy path past the little church, and found ourselves standing before the grave of John Horrocks, who set forth from these parts in July 1846 to find good pastoral land. From the very start, his expedition was prescient proof of W.C. Fields' later adage that you should never work with children or animals. Particularly animals: first the goats took great delight in leaping on the tent and eating it. Then Harry, a psychotic camel who was the first of his species to be used on an Australian expedition, tried to eat one of the goats, bit Garlick the tent-keeper, who was presumably wandering around redundant since he had no tent to keep, and chewed to bits the precious bags of flour.
As if that wasn't enough, one evening as Horrocks was unpacking, Harry lurched to one side and discharged Horrocks' gun, which was rather unfortunately pointing at Horrocks at the time. Harry was subsequently shot, although it took two bullets to kill him and he bit a stockman on the head before succumbing, Horrocks died of his wounds two weeks later, and 164 years later, we stood in mute homage before the plain grey cross and matching slab which marks the last resting place of the only explorer in history to be shot by his own camel.
Oz around Australia on a Triumph Geoff Hill & Colin O’Carroll p216
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 30, 2014, 09:37:37 AM
Vehicle ferries are a major mode of transportation for crossing the Puget Sound in Washington. On many a sunny Saturday afternoon you can find hundreds of cars queued up and waiting hours for the next crossing. But this is not the case for motorcycles. Yes, there can easily be twenty bikes in line, but we do not wait. It is perfectly legal to skip around all cars, butt your way to the front of the line, and rally together with the other motorcycles in the staging zone. The officials will then have the motorcycles get on first and consolidate them at the front of the ship. And for this magical moment, be it thirty minutes or an hour and a half, you are no longer riding alone. All from many directions, we join together for that time.
On the ferry, you find out really quickly that everyone has a story, and, because you are not in a car and cannot roll up your window, you enter each other's world. All introductions start with the other person's ride and usually involve the history of their former bikes and ones they currently have but are cheating on this particular day. We then can get into stories about their journey.
Ride On  Joseph Fehlen p60-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 01, 2014, 08:36:42 AM
Sunrises and sunsets. Make the effort to watch at least one sunrise and one sunset every month, preferably while on your bike. Riding at these times has a magic all it's own that cannot be described. To watch a new day come to life and to be part of it is a privilege and should be treated as such. Sunset is a sign of that days passing and a glorious reminder that no day should be wasted. Pay attention to these things. Life is a fantastic journey and sunrises and sunsets are the mile markers.
Road Tales Steve Reed p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 02, 2014, 09:39:29 AM
The love of a good woman. You'll need this one most of all. Not only in all aspects of life, but especially with regards to motorcycling. She'll need to understand your need to ride in bad weather, your desire to see distant places, the times you need to ride alone, your constant obsession for your bike, the trips with your buddies, and dozens of other things. Maybe she'll ride, maybe she won't. Regardless, she should never feel threatened by your riding. Instead, strive to make her part of it. Involve her in more than just the bike cleaning rituals. If you're out on a trip, call her so she can hear your voice. See that she knows you'll return from each and every ride. Take the time to let her know that she's special and that the best part of any ride is coming home to her.
Road Tales  Steve Reed p19
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 03, 2014, 09:13:42 AM
That black Bridgestone 125 was the biggest, baddest, motorcycle he had ever seen and he was standing right beside it. He didn't dare touch it and knew better than to ask how fast it would go. Grownups didn't like foolish questions, you know. None the less, he couldn't help but be drawn to that machine. Something about it kept beckoning him back time and time again.  It was as though he was a fish on a line and the bike kept reeling him in.  Even when he would lay in bed at night, he could feel ifs pull on his soul.  There was something mystical about that motorcycle and he was powerless  against its spell. The thought of actually owning something that grand, that powerful, that beautiful was more than he dared to imagine. Maybe when  he was grown up and rich and famous he would buy that bike and it would  take him on hundreds of adventures. Yeah. That's exactly what he would do.  He'd show everybody what a person could do if they had a bike like that! So the next day, he went to see the bike again. But this time he had a purpose.  However, as he approached the bike, his resolve started to crumble. It was so big! The speedometer went all the way to 80 mph! How could a person  drive something so big so fast! It just didn't seem possible. His dreams of  excitement and adventure started to fade when he heard a voice say "Want to sit on her?" He whirled around to see a man smiling down at him "Are you  serious? You'd let a little kid like me sit on this motorcycle?" the boy asked  excitedly.
"You wont be a little kid forever, came the answer. 'Who knows?  Maybe you'll grow up to be a motorcycle rider. You gotta start somewhere."  Having said this, the man lifted the boy up and placed him on the seat of the  motorcycle. Sitting there, the boy noticed the gasoline price on the sign was 24.9 cents a gallon. And he had not one, but TWO quarters in his pocket! All the excitement and adventure came rushing back, pouring over the boy like  rainwater pouring out of a downspout in a thunderstorm. That one voice had  made a difference. It opened a whole new world when it placed that small boy  on the seat of that shiny black motorcycle. 
To this day, it's still my favorite seat. 
Road Tales  Steve Reed pp23-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 04, 2014, 09:10:17 AM
Grab six or seven friends and take off for nowhere in particular. After about 10  minutes, have the leader fall back to the last position. In another 10 minutes, that leader falls to the rear as well. Continue this procedure until the original leader is back at the point position. During the ride, all leaders should be encouraged to get the group as lost as possible, since it would be someone else's responsibility to get the group back on track. The larger the group, the more lost you can get. After a couple of these rides, you learn to have an eye for detail, believe me. One thing to remember, don't take this ride too seriously. Enjoy the companionship and tuck those memories in a safe place.
You'll want to pull them out some cold winter night.
Road Tales  Steve Reed p26-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 05, 2014, 10:28:56 AM
Do you know how to tell if you live next door to a motorcycle rider? Tall grass in the yard, weeds in the garden, dirty gutters, windows that need washing, house in need of painting, all signs of the 2 wheeler's creed, "If its nice enough to work outside, its nice enough to ride." My long-suffering wife, Angie, can (and has) testified to witnessing my possession by unseen forces once the temperature climbs above 70 degrees. Gotten the mower out of the shed, gassed it up, went by the garage, and the next thing ! know, I'm cleaning bugs off my Gold Wing's windshield.
Not only did I claim to have a 10 hour memory gap, possibly caused by alien abduction, but those rascally aliens put 350 miles on my bike as well! And not one of them was thoughtful enough to cut the grass for me! In their defence, they did fill the gas tank before returning the bike to my garage.
Probably in the name or intergalactic peace or some such thing.
Road Tales  Steve Reed p45
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on July 05, 2014, 12:04:54 PM
Oh so true
  Car is also dirty and bike is spotless.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 06, 2014, 01:34:08 PM
"So many roads, so little time". That phrase rings true with so many of us. So many places you haven't seen. So many adventures yet to experience. So much to see and do and so little time. And finally, you get it. That elusive answer to the question you've been asking yourself these many years. You come to realize that each ride is the best ride you've ever been on. The saying" "there are no bad rides, just some better then others" takes on a special meaning to you. When you hear a guy whine about being cold and wet you smile quietly to yourself. That guy over there telling about his 800 mile ride, the kid with the gauze on his forearm, the couple in their matching vests, all give you an inner peace. You know that they are part of you and you are a part of them. All of you are taking the same ride regardless of where you're at on the journey. You say to yourself, what an incredible and wondrous adventure I've been on. It's been more fun than I could have possibly imagined all those years ago. Now, I can't wait to see what's coming up around the next bend in the road.
Road Tales  Steve Reed p110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 07, 2014, 09:31:50 AM
After a hot shower and a great dinner (thanks Dear), I can now reflect on the day's events. The elation of the morning had been replaced with pleasant weariness. The overcast skies had been replaced by the glow of my wife's smile. The coldness of the ride had been replaced with cosiness. Strange how two totally opposite sensations are so dependent on the other? Without cold weather riding, you cannot truly appreciate the pleasures and comforts of a meal in a warm home. Without winter, how can you appreciate spring? And, if you don't go away, how can you come home?
Philosophy is not my forte. I just love to ride motorcycles. However, could the two be related? I may have to ponder that puzzle for a while, perhaps over some carrot cake and coffee.
Road Tales  Steve Reed p113
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 08, 2014, 09:58:57 AM
Rouen is one of those places that, having visited once, you wonder why on earth you haven't been before. However, as I'd never visited previously I was keen to find somewhere to park my bike and take stock of my journey so far. Like most large towns, Rouen is a nightmare to navigate, particularly on a motorbike. It took about two hours of riding around in something like circles before I learnt the most important lesson of the trip: whenever you arrive at a new town or city, always make a beeline for the tourist information centre (they're usually located in the middle of whichever town or city you find yourself in, and are usually pretty well signposted).
The lady at the information centre was very helpful; unnecessarily so, some might say. She kept me talking (or rather, she kept talking to me, I've no idea what she was on about) for the best part of half an hour, and when I finally managed to flee, I did so under the weight of a hundred folding maps, brochures and pamphlets. Still, she was kind enough to point me in the direction of a cheap and cheerful hotel near the train station which I found with remarkable ease.
I booked a “chamber pour une nuit avec salle de bain”, and - with literally nothing else to say - dragged my luggage up three flights of stairs before cracking open a bottle of red wine and collapsing on the bed, a big, idiot grin writ large across my grimy face.
Bonjour!  Is This Italy?  Kevin Turner p10-11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 09, 2014, 10:08:45 AM
I spent the next couple of hours wandering around the city, taking in the various sights, stopping every now and again for a relaxing drink, but mainly worrying about my bike. The Suzuki SV650S isn't a particularly desirable machine, but it was all I had and, in the run-up to my trip, I'd heard countless horror stories about bike theft in France, which, if the tales were to be believed, was pretty much a national pastime.  Conveniently, the Suzuki has an under-seat storage area just big enough to accommodate a hefty chain and padlock - it's always a good idea to chain your bike to something, even if it's just a tramp - and this, coupled with a front disc lock and an alarm, meant it was pretty much theft-proof. Even so, I couldn't escape the nagging fear that, as I sank my third beer, my pride and joy was being wheeled into the back of a van. I decided to return to the hotel earlier than planned to check on her.
Bonjour!  Is This Italy?  Kevin Turner p14-15
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 10, 2014, 09:24:07 AM
I was hugely relieved to find my bike shackled to the post where I'd left it. Maybe it was the glow from the setting sun, or maybe was the half bottle of wine and five beers, but the SV had never looked better than it did there in the cool French evening light: the jet black, slightly bulbous semi-fairing exposed the dull silver engine casing, like a satin dress slipping off an elegant thigh. Well, not really, but in my drunken state I found myself lapsing into that strange, singularly male state of mind that equates fast bikes and cars with the female form.  I’m sure Freud would have an explanation for it, but honestly, I don't think I want to hear it. Anyway, for whatever deep-seated psychological reason, I couldn't resist the urge to throw an ungainly leg over the tank and sit there for a while, watching the world go by, ,just me and the Suzuki.
Bonjour!  Is This Italy?  Kevin Turner p15
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 11, 2014, 08:35:40 AM
From the word go I was hopelessly lost.  It quickly became apparent that the city's commuters were not in a tolerant mood. Like an ant in the middle of a football pitch I swerved this way and that, attempting to read road signs for any hint of direction. Cities aren't pleasant places to ride in at the best of times due to the sheer number of risks you encounter, but when you're lost, stressed and tired, mistakes become likely, and mistakes on a motorbike tend to hurt. Especially when they involve forgetting you're in France and turning left onto a busy roundabout instead of right... it seems that Lady Luck was riding pillion on that occasion.
Having received the sort of wake-up call that could feasibly raise the dead, I decided to call it quits: I rode the Suzuki onto the nearest pavement, took off my crash helmet and sank to the ground next to the bike exhausted and broken at 9 am.
Bonjour!  Is This Italy?  Kevin Turner p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 12, 2014, 05:40:37 PM
Then an unusual thing happened: an angel appeared out of the traffic in the guise of a rough-looking chap on an old Honda CB500. He stopped next to me and gestured to the madness behind him, "Eez fun, yes?" he said, with a big grin. I replied that if by 'fun' he meant a complete bloody nightmare, then, yes, it most certainly was! We chatted briefly and I explained, in my sub-GCSE French and via steering wheel gestures, that I was looking for the Le Mans racetrack, which he kindly offered to lead me to. I couldn't believe my luck. Thanking him profusely, I pulled on my lid and fired up the Suzuki.
Unfortunately, my saviour had neglected to mention that he was suicidal, and that he had chosen this very day - the journey we were on, in fact - to be his last on this earth.
Bonjour!  Is This Italy?  Kevin Turner p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 13, 2014, 12:52:21 PM
He rode like an absolute lunatic and it was only by following suit, ignoring every conceivable sense of self-preservation, that I was able to keep him in sight. We squeezed through gaps in the traffic that wouldn't have been possible had I had a slightly bigger breakfast that morning, and gambled with our - and every other road users' - lives at each and every junction. It quickly became apparent that my guide viewed traffic lights as a form of street decoration, pleasant enough to look at but of no practical value to a man in a hurry. In our wake a thousand car horns beeped furiously, while just feet ahead pedestrians dived this way and that, thrilled no doubt to have had their dull morning routine injected with such excitement. Through all of this my insane companion rode with heroic abandon, and I remember noting in a fleeting moment of calm that I hadn't seen his brake light come on once since he'd launched me into this hell just ten minutes earlier.
Bonjour!  Is This Italy?  Kevin Turner p18-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 14, 2014, 01:12:39 PM
But the roads are so smooth and virtually empty that big speed is almost a pre-requisite, at least on the larger roads where the throaty V-twin will wind up a hot 120 mph without a glitch and sit there comfortably while you tuck down on top of your tank bag, a big grin spread across your face.
Pin the throttle on a downhill stretch and the needle edges slowly toward 130mph, but now the SV's engine is straining. The red line approaches for both bike and rider, as instinct begins to tighten the muscles until your arms cease to function as useful shock absorbers. At this point you have to step back, at least mentally; not necessarily by rolling off the throttle, but by consciously relaxing, forcing the brain to release its stranglehold on the sinews, to unlock the talons clenched around the handlebar grips and let the forearms cushion and iron out the natural imperfections of the road. Then everything becomes slower, easier and paradoxically, faster.
Bonjour!  Is This Italy?  Kevin Turner p24
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 15, 2014, 09:51:42 AM
I'd anticipated freezing, snow-covered highways and roaring blizzards, but in reality the roads were clear and smooth, the sun shone brightly in the cloudless sky, and the entire Alpine experience turned out to be one of the most enjoyable of the journey. In hindsight I wish I'd spent days, rather than hours, amid that rugged and beautiful scenery. Parked at the side of the road, gazing out across the mountains, it was wonderfully peaceful, with nothing but a light breeze caressing my face and a long, empty winding road stretching off into the distance: the only indication I wasn't completely alone in the world.
Alpine roads demand a certain respect; not only because they are twisty and awkward and often flanked with drops measured in hundreds of feet, but also because if you do throw your bike down the road and hurt yourself, you're unlikely to be found for a while (if at all). I rode along those treacherous mountain paths with fear as my pillion. I couldn't shake the notion that the smallest mistake might end with me either plummeting to my death or lying in a heap at the bottom of a frozen ditch, totally obscured from the view of other road users and utterly helpless.
Bonjour!  Is This Italy?  Kevin Turner p96
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 16, 2014, 09:26:49 AM
Eventually, the road stopped going up and began to descend, gently first, and then with unexpected severity. It’s surprising how much physical effort is involved in riding a heavy bike downhill continuously for the best part of 90 minutes.  Under braking - which happens quite a lot – your forearms and wrists take the full weight of your upper body, including, in my case, a rucksack which was full to bursting. It’s like doing countless push-ups while also trying to concentrate on the road ahead, noting and avoiding that innocuous looking patch of gravel that could so easily rob the front tyre of its grip, or the pothole ready to hammer and send a bone-shaking jolt through the bars and down your spine. By the time I got to the bottom of the pass I was exhausted
Bonjour!  Is This Italy?  Kevin Turner p96
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 17, 2014, 09:16:31 AM
I was alone up there on top of the tower, with no one to tell me when or where or how to be. Just me and the clouds and the breeze. It's how I feel when I pull on my crash helmet and close the visor. Alone and at peace.
 I looked out beyond Nurburg, Adenau, beyond the rolling hills and the Eifel Mountains, beyond Germany even, to Europe - a vast, sweeping mass of triumph and tragedy, romance and despair, heroism and  tyranny; as diverse geographically as it is culturally. This way for scorching Mediterranean beaches, that way for the snow-capped Alps and great swathes of excitement and challenge - and I had barely scratched the surface. Still, the time had come to say goodbye, for now, at least. With a heavy heart I made my way back down the castle's spiral staircase, through its ruined walls and along the pathway to where I'd left the Suzuki leaning heavily on its side-stand. After a final look around, I slid the key into the ignition, dabbed the starter, and with the sweltering heat of the Mediterranean now a distant memory, reluctantly began the final part of my journey back to London.
Bonjour!  Is This Italy?  Kevin Turner p130-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 18, 2014, 09:32:39 AM
If you get a bit jittery because it's been two days since you last rode, or if you've ridden in torrential rain telling yourself 'there's no need for wet weather gear because it'll stop soon.'  Even if you find yourself talking to any rider about their bike, although the postie is getting tired of my questions about his CT90, either way, motorcycles are all consuming. Once bitten it s hard to shake them. The lifestyle that goes with them is just the same, not to mention the camaraderie. You don't see car drivers having an amiable chat at the lights.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p ix

This is the Greg Hirst Streak talks to on the radio all the time.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 19, 2014, 01:07:59 PM
The very first time I sat on a bike was as a young teenager. A well-meaning mate talked me into hopping on the back of his Honda 350. He gave me a helmet and we took off. Unfortunately, he did little else and when we came to a major left-hand corner he did what was required and leant to the left. This didn't make sense to me at the time, and thinking we were getting too dose to the road surface, I leant as hard as I could to the right. As a result we missed the corner and speared across the traffic into a petrol station. Thankfully we had room to stop and managed to avoid all sorts of stationary objects.  Then it dawned on him to explain to me how important it was for the pillion to lean with the rider.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p xi
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 20, 2014, 04:22:01 PM
Then there was the time I was pulled up in Victoria at another biker rock concert. I encountered yet another Police roadblock, surely the bane of many major motorcycle events at the time. As I waited in line for the 'boys in blue' to get to me I wondered what would happen. This time the wait was short before a plain-clothes cop approached me. He asked for my license and questioned my reason for coming to this particular event. After looking me over he proceeded to write me a ticket for an illegal helmet. It seems that my helmet didn't have the appropriate Australian Standards sticker and he decided this was the way to make my visit to Victoria memorable. Initially I was dumbfounded. I knew I was being done-over in order to get at the event organisers but how to prove it? Then I asked the officer to explain the Victorian helmet law to me. Was it required to wear a legal helmet or was it required to show an approved sticker? I then explained how my helmet was, in fact, an older and legal one. Suddenly he went quiet and stopped writing the ticket. He looked up at me and then in a measured voice announced he was showing me undeserved favour and was not going to issue me a ticket. As he walked off I thought how fortunate that the law in Victoria was not clear. Perhaps he just didn't know it. Either way I was not shafted by a cop bent on harassing those who ride.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p 11-12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 21, 2014, 09:14:59 AM
The crowd present was made up of acting and media types plus a selection of the 'beautiful people'. This was my first TV launch and I got the invite after an acting appearance in the 3rd episode. The launch was held at a suitably decorated studio in upmarket Balmain. It was fitted with all the necessities, a boxing ring, a Jacuzzi and, of course, a mud-wrestling pit. When I arrived there was plenty of security at the entrance and I parked my Harley in their view. Inside was packed and after looking around I found a place to set my helmet down and went off to get a drink. When I returned my helmet was gone. Security helped me search but with no luck. Pizzas 'Pauly came by and spent some time checking out possible hiding places, but at the end of the night it was clearly stolen. And by one of the beautiful people no less. In all the years going to biker events, pubs and clubhouses, I've never had a helmet or gloves stolen. But in two visits to what are supposed to be upmarket and safe venues, venues frequented by people who society looks up to, I ended up having crucial riding gear stolen within minutes. I guess you can't go by any sort of stereotype.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p16
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 22, 2014, 09:07:07 AM
For the uninitiated a gymkhana is a series of motorcycle games such as the slow race where the last bike to the finishing line without going backwards or putting feet on the ground wins. Another favourite is the blind race where the pillion guides a hooded rider to the finish line. This particular event has proven less popular after a number of broken friendships. And, of course, the famous keg-roll with the front wheel of a moving motorcycle. This one often requires the consumption of a great deal of amber fluid, in order to provide enough empty kegs for the race.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 23, 2014, 09:44:30 AM
Just the other side of Redfern I had cause to stop at a set of traffic lights. Unexpectedly the bike stalled so I prepared to kickstart it just like I had been instructed at the shop. Colleen had dutifully slid towards the back of the seat to give me room to stand and put my weight into the kick, and it started easily, which pleased me to no end considering I got the hang of it so quickly. I returned to a seating position and headed off through the lights and down the road. Around half a kilometre later a car pulled up next to me and called out, 'Mate, you left something back there!' I turned back in time to see Colleen dodging traffic as she tried to get off the road back at the lights. It seems she did a little more than just slide back on the seat.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p26
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on July 23, 2014, 11:38:45 AM
 :rofl :rofl
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 24, 2014, 09:45:19 AM
Getting blamed for things is a biker's lot. Many people think that if you get in trouble or hurt in a road accident it must be our own fault. This way of thinking has its roots in the early history of motor vehicles in Australia. From the earliest times motorcycles have been associated with risk and rebellion. Some years ago I met an old Aussie bloke who reminisced with me about riding a motorcycle down the Hume Highway to Melbourne when it was mostly dirt. He spoke in terms that riders today understand. Adventure, challenge, thrill and a sore backside. He also remembered something else; being regarded as a temporary Australian and treated as someone who needed to be looked after. Riders today get angered every time someone suggests motorcycles are dangerous. And with good cause as those who often make this claim have never had to face the reality of the car driving public.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 25, 2014, 09:17:09 AM
I had the opportunity to lead out a group of entertainers onto the Sydney Cricket Ground for a promotion for the movie Mad Max 3. Heavy rocker Angry Anderson was to be interviewed before the game and was escorted by a number of cars and lead out by our Harleys. During the week I had trouble starting my bike. An electrical problem, I thought, and spent many hours working on it. Problem solved as I rode around in the lead-up to the game. It started without difficulty for several days, but to be sure I made a point of testing it regularly. Even during the lead-up time to the game I kept up the testing. It didn't miss a beat. As we sat at the northern entrance to the ground on two Harleys ahead of an assortment of dancing girls, off road cars and celebrities, my machine turned off and on without trouble. Finally the call came to head out onto the hallowed SCG surface. Wheeling to the right we headed out and past the Members’ and Ladies’ Stands and finally stopped in front of nearly 9,000 enthusiastic rugby league fans.
As the commotion died down, Angry disembarked from his vehicle and mounted the small stage for his interview about the latest Mel Gibson flick. As a precaution I kept my motor running- after all I didn't want a problem in front of such a lively crowd. Suddenly, one of the Channel 10 crew approached. Apparently one of the producers was worried the noise from my motor could drown out the interview and I was asked to switch it off. I confidently and dutifully complied. Some minutes passed and Mr Anderson finished, jumped off stage and headed to his vehicle. My mate and I took this as a cue to start up again. To my dismay nothing happened as I pushed the starter button. In desperation I moved to the kick-starter and frantically kicked and kicked. Nothing was happening, except that the crowd was starting to realise my predicament. Finally the other vehicles moved around me and exited the field leaving me in front of the Brewongle Stand as the entire crowd roared with laughter. Even after the players had emerged and the game got under way, there was still no roar coming from my motorcycle. I acknowledged defeat when a crew member asked me to push it off the ground. I can still hear the roars of laughter as I left. To make matters worse I had a couple of friends in the crowd, one of whom had a camera. He kindly preserved my embarrassment in several glossy black and white photos. Eventually I succeeded in reaching the haven of the carpark. In frustration I gave it one last try. The bike fired up immediately. My embarrassment was complete.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p34-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 26, 2014, 01:18:53 PM
We came across the other riders and together we roared around underneath this famous Olympic venue, thirty bikers, most of whom were athletically challenged yet doing something that most in our world could only dream about, and in front of 80,000 plus screaming fans. It was a blast (fully sick, if you are under 25).
 As we neared the exit ramp something else happened that to this day has me shaking my head in disbelief. Coming around the final section of the road and on our way to head up the ramp we came across about eight cops. To my amazement they began applauding us as we passed, all of us. It was a moment to savour. Usually bikers and Police keep pretty distant from each other in social situations. Here they were reacting to us in a positive, friendly even supportive way. Even when an older sergeant stepped in at the death to stop this public bonding exercise, it was too late. Something had happened that none of us expected to see in our lifetimes. Police clapping riders instead of reacting in a negative way. I guess anything can happen at an NRL Grand Final.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p40
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 27, 2014, 11:54:37 AM
I could again see a constant stream of bikes go around Parliament and park. This time it took a full hour for all the bikes to pass which delayed the official start time by fifteen minutes. Not that anyone seemed to mind, as the band on stage was playing some jumping rock music. Finally we were ready to start. As I got to the microphone to welcome everyone I could sense the excitement amongst this huge cross section of clubs and individuals. Besides the usual riders’ rights suspects there were tourers, vintage riders, Ulyssians, Outlaws, Christian clubs as well as road and off road racing types. Darrell Eastlake got a huge cheer as did the other celebrity speakers. Impressively Triple J’s Merrick Watts and Triple M's Brendan Jones rode all the way and spoke passionately about their motorcycling life. Jonesy was particularly impressive having ridden to Canberra after stopping at Goulburn Hospital. On the way down he caught a bug in the eye, requiring it to be bandaged. Even in pain he finished the ride and spoke with passion about his clear love of riding. Politicians from the Liberal, Labor and Democrats all spoke in support of this endeavour, taking the opportunity to present written policies ahead of the next Federal election. Warren Fraser and Ray Newland represented the industry and hailed this united approach of riders, industry and sport to positively challenge society in a pro-motorcycling way. In the end this call to work in unity provided a fitting end to an event that had drawn riders from all over Australia and remarkably, in 2001, appeared as big as many of the rider's rights rides in the United States and Europe.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 28, 2014, 09:21:10 AM
However, it was on the way home that the action really started. We had decided to go back to Sydney via the New England Highway and unexpectedly ran into the mother of all inland storms. Not only did it rain heavily but a fierce, driving cross-wind made riding extremely dangerous. Regardless we rode on. As time passed Grunt, who was on the back, started to get ill. It got so bad we had to stop at a servo at one of the small towns near the border in NSW. It was a good thing too. Little did we know that the battery on my bike was in trouble. It couldn't cope with the long ride with the headlight hard-wired on and was on the verge of complete shutdown. It wouldn't start at the servo and the mechanic who inspected it gave it a death sentence. In fact if we hadn't have stopped then, the battery would have been fried. And in those conditions, with fierce wind driven rain and the number of heavy vehicles using the road at the time, we could have easily found ourselves bent around a tree or sharing the grille of an oncoming semi.
My Motorcycling Life  Greg Hirst p85
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 29, 2014, 10:46:23 AM
As I walk the bike along the riverbank, following the man with the machete, I ask him how we will cross. He points to an esplanade ahead: "Bac. I'm the captain." Bac is a French word adopted in various countries to describe a raft.
Soon we round a curve and find in front of us a floating wreck- a rusty iron platform, full of holes, 25 meters long and 8 meters wide. It's fixed on top of a dozen rusty 50-gallon oil drums, tied to a rusty, frayed steel cable that leads to rusty pulleys anchored to trees about 200 meters apart on opposite shores. The bac will cross by means of the cable, which has to be pulled by hand. Everything looks as if it will fall apart in midstream, but my biggest concern, as always, is money.
"How much will you charge to take me across?" I ask.
 "If is to the other shore, one million," he says. "You have to settle up with the pullers."
I smile at his term, "If is to the other shore." What could he mean, that he only charges half to get to the middle of the river? One million of his pesos equal $25 a fortune in these latitudes, so I start to bargain. We settle at $10, then I ask, "Where are the pullers?"
"I don't know."
“How can I settle up with the pullers?"
"I don't know.”
"When do we cross, then?"
"I don't know. Maybe when the pullers come."
"And when do the pullers come?"
He shrugs his shoulders.
'OK, who are the pullers?"
 "You. And others who may want to cross." 
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 30, 2014, 12:02:36 PM
As an adult I took a job with Pfizer selling pharmaceuticals. One day a sales rep from another laboratory said to me, "I’ve bought a motorcycle, and I have to go to sign the papers. Why don't you come with me?"
I’d never been interested in those types of vehicles, which cost as much as a car but left you looking like a cat rescued from a river when it rained, but I went with him out of my impulsive curiosity. That decision changed my life forever.
At the dealership my gaze fell upon an advertising display picture, a photo of a big, black, bulky, enormous, shining machine. It looked like a bus, a motor home. It had saddlebags, one on each side, a big trunk at the back a large protective fairing with glove compartments, a soft seat that looked more comfortable than my grandmother’s rocking chair, and a powerful 1100cc 4 cylinder engine. The ad claimed that it even came with a cassette player and antenna. Honda Gold Wing Interstate was the name of the hair-raising monster. Like a premonition, big red letters on one corner of the leaflet proclaimed, "Your future has come on two wheels."
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 31, 2014, 08:36:06 AM
I went back to the show room with he money and signed the documents. The owner knew that sooner or later the moment would come when I wouldn't be able to pay the instalments, and he would keep what I'd already paid, and the bike, which even used, would cost double the original price, because that was the way things worked in my country in those days.
A few weeks later my wonderful machine arrived from the United States. When they handed it over to me, I found another major drawback- I’d never been on a motorcycle, much less driven one, so I didn't even know how to start it. When I asked, they all looked at me in horror. They took it into the street for me and gave me a 10-minute crash course.
I started up. After 100 yards, I fell off. The left mirror broke.
My monthly salary was just enough to pay the instalments, but I only managed to pay two of them; by the third I couldn't keep up the payments. Everyone who knew me agreed that I'd made the biggest mistake of my life,  dreaming beyond the mark, and that in a few days it would be proven to me.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 01, 2014, 09:24:01 AM
But before I could lose the bike, fate intervened. One Monday, the week began with the secretary of the treasury announcing: "Those who bet on the dollar, will lose," as he always did in his speeches. On Tuesday, when the country woke up, it discovered that either the newspapers had printed the secretary's name incorrectly or during the night the president had sent him on a permanent holiday. By Wednesday, a new secretary of the treasury devalued the peso. From that moment, the American currency no longer cost 170 pesos per dollar but the incredible sum of 1,700 pesos per dollar. On Thursday it rose to 3,000 pesos; on Friday 5,000; the following Monday, 6,000 pesos per dollar!
One week before you could buy 170 pesos with a dollar, now with the same dollar, you could buy 6,000 pesos. Generally these economic calamities only serve to make the rich somewhat richer, and the poor somewhat poorer, but never to make the poor richer. Well, there are always exceptions.
My Pfizer salary was fixed to a dollar tariff, so I went on to earn almost 6,000 times more pesos than I earned when I'd bought the bike, and, as the installments were fixed in pesos, the total debt left outstanding for me to now pay became the equivalent of a pack of cigarettes. That's how I got a $26,000 motorcycle that ended up costing barely $3,000. The Honda dealership that sold me the bike survived for another year, but finally closed down.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p13-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 03, 2014, 04:15:26 PM
I arrive upstairs feeling anxious. Sonia tells me that the hotel has no parking lot. I take my passport, and I run downstairs, Sonia behind me. Less than a minute has passed. An eternity.
The motorcycle is totally naked. Empty. Everything has disappeared. Even what was inside the locked fiberglass saddlebags and the rear trunk has been carried off. Everything that was not part of the machine itself is gone. Gone. Gone.
They left me nothing. Not even a thank-you letter.
I'm completely cleaned out. I've been totally, absolutely, undoubtedly robbed. Under the moonlight of Rio, and the neon lights of the street, I walk around the bike, not believing my eyes.
I'm an idiot.
Sonia ask me, "And now?"
"I've been robbed."
"I noticed. Can I help you in any way?"
I can't answer her. I need to think.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 04, 2014, 09:07:19 AM
Of all of my essential things, only my documents and the few dollars are left. I'm wearing shorts, a T-shirt, and sneakers. And the underpants, of course, which I have on. More importantly, I still have my black flying carpet. What else do I need to go on my vision quest, my walk-bout?
With the loss of all my amenities, I could have been sunk into misery, but instead, I find a good side to the disaster. For the first time since beginning the journey, I enjoy driving. Without the extra 170 pounds, the bike rides like a grand prix racer instead of a garbage truck. Before I had a hundred things to look after, now I have only one: the bike. I can move my body, and I have space to carry Sonia. The robbery was a blessing.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 05, 2014, 09:25:17 AM
Here on the equator the days become longer and the heat becomes hotter, but as soon as the sun goes down, the shadows swallow everything faster than it takes me to switch on my lights. My skin roasts, my blood boils, and the motorcycle melts. I've driven all day, without a break, hitting cracks, falling into deep potholes, crossing faults in the ground streams, fjords, rivers. The insects have eaten me alive, and I feel as if I've just done 30 rounds with 10 boxers the same time. More dust has entered my body than I've trodden on in the last 30 years. The people who warned me how difficult it was going to be were right. I've driven 15 hours nonstop. Of the 300 miles to the next post, I've done 40.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p27
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 06, 2014, 09:48:20 AM
I start the engine. I accelerate. She doesn't move. I look around and, with horror, discover what has happened. The rear wheel is not only stuck in the mud, but is also completely deflated, squashed flat The situation is as follows: I can't get the bike out of the mud, I don't have a pump, I have no tools for repairs, and I have no idea how to get the wheel off the chassis. I've never done it before, and I barely paid attention when some mechanic did it. And it’s raining. No, not raining, pouring. The jungle has disappeared in the darkness of the night, under a curtain of water. I leave the bike in the middle of the track, half sunk in the mud and I walk back about 200 yards. There's a small clearing, with some pieces of wood laid like a roof. I lie on the ground under it, with no strength left. I can't think clearly. I'm out of the rain, not completely, but enough. It’s late. I'm very tired. I need to sleep.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p27
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 07, 2014, 09:36:03 AM
The fifth day when I'm ready to continue way, the Atroari chief, who has come to the road, goes to say something to someone from the government. It's a request which makes me proud. With a bit of help, we fulfill his wish, and sit him on the bike. The chief is happier than a dog with a bone, and hangs onto handlebars, with his legs dangling to the sides and showing off his yellowish teeth.
When he's on the ground again, he takes one of the shrunken heads off the string round his neck and hands it to me as a gift. Everyone is astonished. This is a treasure more than one of them would like to have, but the Indians do not usually give them away, as it represents their fortune and demonstrates their status. They tell me I have to accept. I do so, and I thank him by giving him a gift in return. I take the shiny key ring which keeps my keys together and give it to him. The Indian takes it and goes back to his village.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p29
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 08, 2014, 08:06:42 AM
I gently accelerate. I put the wheels in the water and go slowly forward, using my feet to help, preventing the water from knocking me over, or from going into the exhaust pipes. If the engine fails, that's it. I'm not going to let this Buraco [Hole] River be my hole. I just hope God has come to love the bike and helps us. Now I'm in the torrent. The front wheel slides one way and then the other, and the back wheel slips on the rounded rocks. I tighten my grip on the handlebars. We're going dangerously deep, too far. The water is already over the engine. I keep it revving, although not so much that I have to lift up my feet. The current hits us sideways and washes over my head. We're almost in center of the river. The bike is almost completely covered. Only the tank and the fairing are out of the water. If the water touches the air filter it's all over. We're sinking deeper and deeper. I stop.
Bad mistake.
I can't keep upright, and I'm about to fall over. The eddies push the back of the bike and slide it sideways. Now I'm facing the current, which is hitting the fairing so hard it seems it may smash it to pieces. The noise of the flood coming at me covers all the other jungle sounds, even the roaring of the carburettors. I can't go on like this, in the riverbed; I have to face the other bank, but I can't move. I'm petrified.
It's almost all over. Now I know that you mustn't brake when you're in the middle of a river.
When I jump off the bike and leave her to save myself, a message came into my head: "Facing it, always facing it, that's the way to get through. Face it!" My right hand twisted the accelerator more and more, and I’d say I sailed, rather than rode, to the other side.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 09, 2014, 01:01:16 PM
I go forward, revving. The sleepers are in pairs a foot so apart, riveted to a labyrinth of iron girders which, criss-cross below, but between them there is nothing, just the ravine. The bike's wheels get stuck in the gaps. I accelerate and push with my feet. Things are getting complicated. After about 60 yards I skid, and to my shame, I fall off, landing heavily and dangerously on my right side. I drop something which falls between the girders to the gulf below. I don't know what it is, but I haven't the time to find out. The trucks are about to run over me. They hoot. They'd like to push the bike over the edge. I pick up the dead weight of the motorcycle using all my strength. I get on and start up. The engine coughs. I try again, pushing the starter button. At last the cylinders fire. I accelerate, but this time I decide not to let myself be intimidated or pushed. I'm going to go slowly, and very carefully. I go over two sleepers, and crash! The front wheel falls into a gap. I give gas to the engine, the tire crawls out, goes forward, and crash! The rear wheel falls into the gap. I accelerate, go over the sleepers, go forward, and crash! The front wheel falls into the next gap. I accelerate, go over, and crash! The rear wheel. Accelerate, forward, crash! And so on, from sleeper to gap to sleeper and back to gap again. It’s as if the bike had big square wheels. It goes up and down, and up and down. The soldiers in the body of the truck in front of me, which is now moving further and further ahead, try to encourage me by waving at me to follow them. Some of them clap when I come out of the gaps by burning rubber from the rear wheel. The truck behind me speeds up and hoots at me a couple of times to get a move on. One thousand feet below I can see the bed of the River Lempa.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p50-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 10, 2014, 01:18:12 PM
A guttural whine from an antique taxi- probably from the time of the Mayas- alerts me to the fact that the taxi’s brakes have failed. "Whoomp!" The driver crashes into the left side of my motorcycle and sends me flying. I make a spectacular pirouette.
Luckily, I'm OK. Only my pride gets a little dented. I raise up the bike, surrounded by dozens of Guatemalans who discuss the accident. My Gold Wing has stoically endured the knock, but will need some bodywork repairs.
I'm in Guatemala, and although the taxi driver crossed the intersection at high speed through a red light, I know the law here is not any different from in any other country in which I have been. I play my part and he plays his; we exchange a few harsh words, and then everybody continues on their way.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p52
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 11, 2014, 08:21:56 AM
At the entrance to Houston, the cars are stopped on the freeway for miles and miles, bumper to bumper. I go slowly along between two lanes of cars that are almost stationary and hear a siren. It’s a patrol car racing me in the emergency lane, alongside the crash barrier, with its lights flashing. As I am now an expert in this, I move in front of them and stop. Two officers in uniform get out. The one in front starts barking at me; it seems he's unable to speak. He reminds me of a Chihuahua with hiccups. He shouts so much and so fast that all I can do is look at him carefully, because I can’t understand a word of what saying. Anyway I can't imagine that I've done anything wrong. I wasn't even doing 10 miles per hour. Then the other one, as big as Hercules, comes up to me. "Here comes real trouble, Emilio," I say to myself, but he only looks the bike up and down. "Drugs again," I think.
It’s like an obsession with them.
But no, he's not looking for drugs. He quiets his partner and asks, "Don't you know you can't drive between the cars?"
"But they're stopped. In California…"
“This is Texas, not California. Your plates are from Argentina. Why?”
“I’m from there. I'm going around the world.“
“You’re joking.”
“No.”
"When did you leave?"
"A year and a half ago."
“And where are you going now?"
“Houston.”
"Where are you going to stay?"
"At the campsite."
"Campsite! My friend, you’ve just found yourself a place to stay. We’ll go to my house. I have a Honda Gold Wing, too, and it will be an honor for me and my family to put you up. Follow us on your bike."
The other cop is speechless, and I am too. This is crazy. A cop inviting me to stay at his home!
The Gold Wing Road Riders Association organizes a meeting in Shreveport, Louisiana, and we go there: my friend Terry, the sheriff, and his son and daughter-in-law, who follow us in a van. Of the ten thousand motorcycles present, mine is the oldest, but the way the people welcome me makes me feel at home. "Americans are cold," someone once said to me. Well they ought to attend a meeting like this one. The only cold things are the thousands of drinks consumed.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p65-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 12, 2014, 09:17:17 AM
Are there no options for getting out of here? Yes: walking. Leave behind what has become an anchor to me. I look back at the bike. "I'll be back for you, Princess. I'll bring help to get you out of here." I walk off, carrying just the clothes I'm wearing, already in rags. I turn again to see her, before we're separated by the jungle. I know my chances of survival are not very high if I walk, but they are less than zero with the bike. And I'm clear about one thing. I won't go back over those terrible hundred kilometres. I walk off in thick, muddy water, telling myself- "It's only 20 kilometres. Come on Emilio! A little further. Come on!"
Somewhere-I don't know if a hundred yards or a mile further on- my spirit breaks. My legs fold, and I fall in the water and start to cry. I cry because of my failure, because abandoning the only companion I have is a failure. I'm exhausted, soaking wet, hungry, and confused, in the middle of the biggest crisis of my life. I don't want to die, but I fear death less than what awaits me: failure. I have to go on, that's true, but my motorcycle is my spacecraft. How can I get where I want without her? Yes, there is another way of getting out: the way I came, those hundred kilometres, step by step, with the Princess. I start to walk back, maybe a kilometre or two. I don't know. And I find the Princess, and I embrace her. I drink some water and lie down next to her.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p98-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 13, 2014, 11:24:31 AM
Getting the bike up the hills was difficult, but getting her down again is worse. With gravity as an unwelcome companion, I fight to control a vehicle which is heavier than me by a ratio of five to one. She gathers speed as she slides through the mud, and I even have to use my feet as brakes. Then, on a hillside, the front tire hits a stone, and we lose balance and fall. I hang onto the handlebar and pull for all I'm worth, but I'm beaten and forced to let go, and the Black Princess starts slipping down the hill. She slides 30 feet and ends up with her wheels in the air.
I go down and examine the position she's in. I conclude that her position might be an advantage to me. I contemplate pushing her and making her slide some more, using the impetus to get her up, but this plan could miserably if she slips much further down the slope.
With these horrors in mind, I decide to try and get her up without making her slide any more. I manage to upright the bike and carry on downhill. By midday, both bike and I are on level ground; the asphalt road that goes back to Bissau.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p99
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 14, 2014, 09:24:52 AM
I come to another river, the Chari, which, apart from carrying water, fulfils the function of the border. There is supposed to be a bridge, and in fact there was, but its collapsed and sank into the water. Even so, some people risk the crossing, balancing on a narrow cornice of the bridge which is still sticking out, and which the water rushes over. After a long while I admit there's no other alternative. I see two locals who are about to cross, and I offer them money in exchange for their help. We begin to move forward along the slippery cornice. The water carries all kinds of tree trunks and trash, and we can't see the edges. One man walks in front of the bike, marking with his feet where the edges are. The other goes behind, holding the rear trunk to counter the swaying. The rapids are very strong. As the water hits me sideways, it rises over the tank. Slowly, with great difficulty, we reach the middle of the river, and now the water surprises me, or surprises the three of us, because it comes so strongly that it almost goes over our heads.
A tree trunk hits us and the man in front grabs hold of the wheel so as not to be dragged away, and twists the whole bike toward the river. The wheel comes off the cement, and with the impetus the front part of the bike is left hanging off the cornice, practically submerged up to the engine. The water is about to carry us away literally as if we were a piece of paper. The engine stops, and although I have hardly any firm space at the sides, I triple my efforts, desperately hanging on, trying to save Princess. If we fall in the river, I'm sure I will swim, but she will go to the bottom, and my journey will be over.
"Pull back! Pull!" I shout to one of them. "Lift the wheel back onto the cement!" I shout to the other.
"Let's push! Together! Now! Come on!" I keep shouting, trying to direct the operations in a battle that seems lost already. Then, as if from heaven, another two boatmen arrive and willingly pitch in, holding the bike by the sides, helping us to set her straight and back on the cornice, and then managing between us all to get her upright and heading toward the opposite shore again. We're still fighting the current, but by pushing, we slowly move forward.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p107-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 15, 2014, 08:27:56 PM
When we reach Yaounde, the capital, the driver brings the train into the station to let the passengers off, but the goods wagon, where the bike is, still sits outside the station. I wait for him to move the car forward, but the guy pulls the wagon off to one of the side tracks that make up the immense railway terminal, half a kilometre from the station. He unhooks it and goes away.
I jump down onto the tracks and walk over to where he's stopped his black engine. He asks me for 500 dollars to take the Princess' wagon into the station, and another 500 for the stationmaster. The deliberations last hours, but the bastard laughs and won't accept the 100 of the last 150 dollars I have left. The other possibility is to find some strong, steady arms able to hold the Princess up when she comes off the floor of the wagon. But they ask me for 50 dollars each, with a minimum of 10 men.
They have a kind of union, commanded by a boss who is the one that negotiates with me. They have me cornered, but there's one thing I make very clear-I don't have 500 dollars. My whole capital amounts to 150 dollars, and if I give it all to them, I'll still e stuck in Cameroon. It's a war of nerves, but finally, when it's about to get dark, they give in. They want to go home with something, and I'm offering them something: 10 dollars each.
Finally, nine hours after coming into the station, I manage to get the Princess onto the ground. It takes another while to get the bike over the rails to the street. I ride the last 250 kilometres and reach Douala, on the shores of the Atlantic.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 16, 2014, 12:25:13 PM
The third morning they come back. They bring pack of cookies, but there's no sign of the officer. By mid-afternoon I start to protest loudly. I shout louder when I see they're submissive, but they're more scared of the officer, and they ask me not to pass.
At five they leave, ashamed of themselves and apologizing. It's my third night at the border, but I know it isn't their fault. On the fourth morning they come back and finally take me to M'bini where I'm arrested by the border commander. He takes away my passport, the keys to the bike, and kicks me out of his house. I move into a small hotel, and the commander has me at his mercy for four days. Every morning I have to go and stand outside his door and wait.
Finally, on the fifth day, he lets me in. He's sitting with three friends on some moth-eaten armchairs. He shouts at me, insults me, threatens me, and makes me publicly apologize for bothering him when he's so busy.
And I do so. Because this is a lesson I've learned: it's better to swallow my pride rather than have a brainless animal with no scruples swallow up me, the bike, and my future, all in one go. These are the rules of Africa. After my public humiliation, stamped passport in hand, I take to the road again. I pass the village of Kibangou and continue.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p114
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 17, 2014, 03:51:52 PM
There's no moon, but it's very damp and hot. I'm wearing sports shoes, shorts, and a sleeveless shirt. I have to hurry to get through the difficult exit formalities. In this country, all passengers at airports have to give a currency declaration, prove that they changed their money legally, and then completely undress in a changing room in front of a guard so he can see nothing is being hidden. They explained to me that they even make you separate your buttocks to make certain.
The freeway is also in darkness. As it's getting late, I accelerate to 70 miles per hour. Suddenly I enter a roundabout. The darkness, tiredness, the lack of signals: the crash is tremendous. The front wheel hits the cement border, and I take off like a jet plane. When I come down, I'm on 1,200 pounds of metal that is no longer vertical.
We roll 30,50, 70 meters. The bike slides along in front of me, bouncing off the cement, with pieces of bodywork and sparks flying out in all directions, and making an infernal racket of metal being filed down. My body follows her, like a sack of potatoes, with no will of its own, dragged along the asphalt.
I finally stop.
I get up. "I'm fine, I'm OK," I say to myself. I try to get the bike up, but I can't because my left hand won't respond. I use my leg as a lever and manage it. I try the starter. It takes a while, but finally the engine responds.
"It's all OK, just a fright," I say to myself over and over and try to get into gear, but the clutch lever has gone. I get off and push. I'm only 200 meters from the airport. "I'd better not miss the plane," I say to myself "I'd better get some repairs done in Mauritius or Madagascar, rather than stay here in Tanzania to get them done."
I park the bike right by the glass doors of the central hall. I cross the hall and reach the counter. Philippe looks sees me, and gives a shout. "Mon Dieu! What's happened to you?
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p119-121
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 18, 2014, 01:39:47 PM
Before long I am crossing the Iran-Pakistan border and find myself in Baluchistan, the dustiest, ugliest, and most depressing desert in the world. This region is the refuge of Afghan guerrillas, so I put pressure on the Princess, urging her ahead, with the intention of reaching some village before nightfall. A mound of soft sand makes me lose control. Body and bike whirl through the air and we both lie on the searing sand. I have a few skin scratches, and the Princess has a broken windshield.
 Suddenly, out of nowhere, appears a decrepit truck. Several men with thick black beards and turbans on their head get out, their Kalashnikovs in their hands. They are Taliban guerrillas. They share food and water with me, and we all stay there for the night.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p156
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 19, 2014, 08:47:17 AM
From horizon to horizon there is not a soul in sight, but the guerrillas- if they really do exist- are said to appear out of nowhere, like spirits. I manage to keep up my speed, and everything's going fine, except for the sun that beats down helmet and the helmet that burns my brains out. The terrain is mercifully hardy and I don't sink into the sand, as in the Sahara. Then the front wheel of the bike catches in a pile of stones, and the bike, with me astride, somersaults through the air. After making sure I have no broken bones, I start to pick up the Princess, but she is sprawled on a clump of sand, in a clumsy position, and try as I might I cannot straighten her. A truck drives up and stops about 50 yards away, and a group of men get out, bearded, armed with Kalashnikov rifles. They are  Afghanis- Mujahideen or Taliban rebels. I'm a dead man, I think to myself.
They all babble at me at the same time, in Farsi I suppose, pointing at the bike and the horizon, but I don't understand what they are saying. They approach, and I brace myself. They take their rifles off their shoulders and lift up the bike. Then they sit down in a circle and invite me to join them. They take out a large amount of food and water, serve me a generous helping and we sit there eating.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p158
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 21, 2014, 10:34:07 AM
There are many things that have happened to me that for space reasons, I did not include in this narrative, but that doesn't make these experiences less valuable.  Through my journey, my life consisted simply of moving forward, from Alaska to the Himalayas, from Cape North to Tasmania, from Bourbon Street to Manchuria, from Cape of Tribulation to Tierra del Fuego, from the tomb of Christ to the mines of King Solomon. I was Chinese in China, Russian in Russia, Christian at The Vatican, and Muslim in the lands of Allah. I was a poor man in Calcutta and a wealthy man at the Champs Elysee. But, above all, I was a wanderer. Along 460,000 miles (735,000 kilometres) of highways, roadways, rivers, seas, mountains, steppes, jungles, deserts, and even swamps, I experienced everything that I possibly could, and I always did it with only one intention: to feel myself alive.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p222
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 22, 2014, 09:54:37 AM
I am not the Marco Polo on motorbike that some newspapers have called me. I'm not even- for God’s sake- the last of the romantics, as a French magazine described me I am only a man, a little bit crazy maybe, who believes deeply that whoever does not invest in dreams is not living reality.
In the end, the world I have known has gone away forever. This book is already a period piece, almost a historic novel. Now I shall say good bye to all of you, my friends. I am going to dream of my roads, my enchanted forests, my yellow and desolate deserts, and the legends of distant cultures that I found at each turn of a wheel of this never-exhausted motorbike. This book is dedicated to all of you, wherever you are. Most importantly, it is dedicated to you Monica, because without you this world that I love so much would not be worthwhile.
The Longest Ride  Emilio Scotto p222
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 23, 2014, 10:40:55 AM
Folks often ask me why I ride, how it feels, and why I would take off for hours, or even days with no specific destination in mind. I have no easy and quick answer for them. Often it is uncomfortable, lonely, exhausting, and dangerous. It can also be uplifting, sensuous, enlightening, and inspiring. It can be all of these, or something never before experienced and completely unexpected.
 Motorcycling is a part of my life, a part of my soul, but it is so much more than just transportation. Would folks understand if I told them that my soul cries for it? Would they comprehend if I said that how they choose to view the world determines what they experience in it? Would they believe if I cried out that the world is magic? That the mundane threatens to overwhelm only because it is so much easier to find? Could they see? Would they see?
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer pxvi
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: rally on August 23, 2014, 06:31:17 PM
 :rd13
Phew Biggles,
you sure own this site, must have worn your fingers to the bone, but all interesting.

Rally
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 24, 2014, 01:42:35 PM
I felt it coming before it actually happened. I let off the throttle and eased toward the left shoulder just before the action started. Hard braking and intense manoeuvring were not going to be effective yet, the standing water and driving rain would see to that. Traffic was suddenly tightening up, and everybody was moving way too fast for the conditions. It goes without saying that they were not giving me any space. This was going to be ugly. Call it intuition, gut feeling, or maybe magic. Whatever it is, once again it called and I listened...and lived.
Suddenly the sound of crunching metal and squealing tires assaulted my ears. An 18-wheeler slid into my lane, covering the space I had just vacated. Barely behind me a mini-van hit the wall. In front of me a pickup slid onto the shoulder backwards, scraping the concrete barrier and sliding along the space in front of me, blocking my avenue of escape. This entire mess was moving at about 60 mph. A hair's breadth separated me from death, and even that piddling distance would not have been there had it not been for my early reactions.
In the dilated time that was spread before me a detached part my brain notes that there is a car sliding in front of the big-rig, and the driver is out of the action completely. She has both hands over her face, and has trusted her fate to her car's ability to drive itself. Probably not good.
All of this mess is sliding together, my small island of space collapsing in on itself with annoying rapidity... I have survived the initial assault, now I must make good my escape.
One chance remains, there is a small space in between the leading (back-wards) pickup, the 18-wheeler, and the driverless car. if I can get through there, I will still be taking my chances that there is not a car in the middle or right lane that will clobber me, but I can think of few things worse than what is coming at the moment.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on August 24, 2014, 05:06:37 PM
Holy poo bags!!!  :eek

Have heard that calling and survived too.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 24, 2014, 06:11:51 PM
Holy poo bags!!!  :eek

Have heard that calling and survived too.

So you don't need to know what happens next, then.     8)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 25, 2014, 12:54:41 PM
I aim vaguely for the hole and mash the back brake. This results in an instant tail slide. Normally this would be setting myself up for one of two conditions- laying the bike down and sliding along with it, or a "high-side" when I let off the brake or scrub off enough speed and the rear wheel grabs again.
In a "high-side", the bike will typically violently straighten up and throw the rider off in the direction of travel. Even if the bike does not land on or tumble over the rider, these are bad. This one would be worse; it would be directly in front of an 18-wheeler. Death and death in this case. The Devil wins. I find that a bit distasteful.
Violently twisting the throttle as she begins to whip around for the high-side. Now I have not done this since my dirt-bike days, and I have never done it on concrete or with a bike that weighs in at about a half a ton with me and fuel, but the result is the most gorgeous power-slide I have ever done. This is a controlled slide, using the power-slipping of the rear wheel to moderate the violence of the bike's attempts to straighten itself out. I do not want to get bucked off directly in the path of a sliding 18-wheeler.
I slide heavily to the right, cross in front of the big truck, over-correct and facing the direction of travel, with The Dragon idling smoothly beneath me. Yep. The Dragon and I understand each other.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p18-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 26, 2014, 09:03:17 AM
Fifty yards ahead of me where the sliding mess finally came to a stop I see the truck driver running up and down the side or his rig with a flashlight, peering under all the axles. I've a pretty good idea what he is looking for (me) so I toot the horn at him and casually wave as he looks up. He immediately drops the light, grabs his chest with both hands, and nearly falls over backwards. He turned out to be ok (no serious injuries in the wreck either), he was just so sure I was smashed underneath his truck, he said he thought I was the devil himself standing there on my black beast.
 Sometimes the Devil wants to dance.
 I was forced. No choice or quarter was given.
 So I danced with the Devil.
 But I was leading.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p19
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 27, 2014, 12:39:45 PM
An engine oil change, tire inspection, final drive oil replacement, new air filter and new brake pads were on the list of things to do. I was also installing yet another set of driving lights so I can actually see the local wildlife just before impact. This required a fair amount of disassembly of the motorcycle and to make the work easier I had the bike on the lift and jacked about ten inches into the air.
I had just finished the final drive oil change, and had dribbled a bit of the amazingly sticky and slippery gear oil on my shirt. Gear oil travels- that's what it is designed to do- and a little bit dribbled somewhere will soon spread all over the place. I wear old, torn up tee shirts when working so I just shrugged, removed my shirt, wiped the rest of the oil off of me, and tossed the shirt into the rag pile.
The heat was really starting to kick up now and I was sweating profusely. Born and bred here in Texas, it rarely bothers me and I just kept right on working. I finished installing the new relay for the lights, and was ready to begin the installation of the light-bar itself.
Those who know me know that I am passionate about my music. While singing along to the inspiring tune from my very good mp3 player in the garage, I retrieved the driving-lights and hardware from the workbench. As I stepped around the bike with the light-bar the music took hold of me and I executed a series of dance steps and maybe even a turn or two.
That was when I realized the wife was watching...
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p75-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Old Steve on August 27, 2014, 02:17:09 PM
Thank you Daniel Meyer for not taking the tale any further ....

Or should that be thank you Biggles for selective editing?
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 28, 2014, 12:07:39 PM
He left it to our imaginations.
========================

Hmmm. Cool engine, less volatile fuel. I guessed that he was flooded. I also guessed that if the bike did not start with the next try his battery would be gone.
I know bikes and I did not want to try to push start anything in this heat. I still had my hand on his engine, mainly for balance as I was kneeling. "Hold full throttle and try again." At that moment a truck whooshed by and I closed my eyes against the dust just as Kevin pushed the start button. The V-twin instantly grumbled to life. It sputtered a bit on the odd fuel, but it was running.
"Jheeze!" He was looking at me with an odd expression on his face. "Thanks man, I really appreciate this!"
I stood up and headed for my bike. "I'll follow you to the next station.”
I chuckled as I put on my helmet and gloves. As he had driven off I overheard him saying to himself, "Never had someone 'heal' my bike before, nobody's gonna believe this." 
As I followed him to the next exit I started thinking about the events of this encounter from his perspective. If he had not seen me go by the first time, or pulling off the road when I did stop I could see how the entire encounter could appear a bit.. .well.. .surreal.
He fuelled up. “Well thanks again! You've got a nice bike." The massive gleaming black and chrome Valkyrie always gets some comment. "Where are you headed anyway?"
I looked out at the blazing sky, back at the road, took a deep breath, and smiled. "West., .just west."
 I nodded to Kevin and stuck out my hand. "I'll see you on the road!"
As he carefully shook my hand he said, "I don't doubt that at all."
Some miles down the road I burst out laughing. I had just realized I was wearing one of my favourite shirts. A simple black "T" shirt with white lettering. It has a paraphrase from Shakespeare on it... my favourite... kind of my motto, "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p86-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on August 28, 2014, 06:10:22 PM
Good one, "heal my bike".    :rofl
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 29, 2014, 08:40:06 AM
As I passed an oncoming car, a brown furry missile shot out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me. It was a squirrel, and must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. I really was not going very fast, but there was no time to brake or avoid it- it was that close.
I hate to run over animals, and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger to me. I barely had time to brace for the impact.
Animal lovers, never fear. Squirrels can take care of themselves.
Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest.
Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty of his little buddies along for the attack. Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of activity. As I was dressed only in a light t-shirt, summer riding gloves, and jeans this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was doing some damage!
Picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t- shirt and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph down a quiet residential street.. .and in the fight for his life with a squirrel.
And losing.
I grabbed for him with my left hand and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off the left of the bike, almost running into the right kerb as I recoiled from the throw.
That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there. It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could have headed home. No one would have been the wiser.
But this was no ordinary squirrel. This was not even an ordinary pissed-off squirrel.
This was an evil attack squirrel of death!
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p110-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 30, 2014, 09:27:37 AM
Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left glove with him!
The situation was not improved. Not improved at all. His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him.
I was startled to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it.
The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in...well...I just screamed.
With the sudden acceleration I was instantly forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle...my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little effect against the massive power of the big cruiser.
About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face, I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little effect on the squirrel however.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p111-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on August 30, 2014, 12:41:05 PM
I am so pleased we don't have squirrels in Oz.   :rofl
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 31, 2014, 12:39:08 PM
Finally I got the upper hand. I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked, sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.
Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.
Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, wearing one leather glove, moving at some incredibly unsafe speed, on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.
I heard screams. They weren't mine.
I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control as I dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.
I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crab walking- backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser.
So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. So be it. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist me. I think he was shooting me the finger.
That is one dangerous squirrel. And now he has a patrol car.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p112-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 01, 2014, 12:20:44 PM
I stepped outside into the warm winds and my soul cried. If you are a motorcycle rider, as opposed to just a motorcycle owner, there is no way that you can NOT ride on a night like this. I bungied my heavy leather jacket and winter gloves on the back seat, and took off into the night winds in nothing more than t-shirt, jeans, and light leather riding gloves. I grabbed a pair of clear wrap around glasses and left the helmet stabbed onto the backrest.
"Safe" was not a demand of my soul tonight.
Riding the winds north was pure pleasure. The brisk tailwind made the ride calm, quiet, and smooth. The temperature was perfect and as the speeds increased my soul began to sing.
Occasional waves of clouds would briefly obscure the view, but mostly the sky was clear, the stars were intense, and I could see the universe spread out in amazing detail above the highway. This night the atmosphere was so clear I could see galactic clouds with the naked eye. From my perspective the highway led straight into the stars, and I aggressively twisted the throttle and sped into the sky.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p123
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 02, 2014, 10:07:12 AM
Another hailstone thumped into the water covered ground nearby, and by the sound of it, was substantially larger than our usual dime and quarter sized stuff. I heard it whistle through the air before impact. The winds rapidly began to climb, a gust nearly blowing me over. This was about to get dangerous.
I eyeballed the tank and gauges on my beloved Dragon, and quickly pulled the bags off the back seat and arranged them to cover the hail-vulnerable parts. Just as I finished I was smashed in the left wrist by at least a three-inch stone. My hand instantly went numb, and I cursed and crouched on the left of the bike as the shooting impacts began raining down around me. This was going to be a bad one. I should have given up protecting the cruiser with the bags and pulled them over me instead, but it was too late for that now.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p141
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 03, 2014, 09:56:37 AM
6000th post.

Beaten bloody and senseless, it took quite some time before I was aware of the break in the storm. The first obvious sign was the cessation of noise. I had not realized just how loud the hail on my helmet and the roaring winds were until they stopped. Blessed relief!
Cautiously I dropped the arm from my face and looked around. The sky was amazing. Purple and black clouds were visibly roiling overhead, and I could see white of hail falling like rain some miles away across the water. Everywhere that was not purple was a bright, deep, and somehow familiar green. A green that was not a good sign.
The landscape was even more bizarre. Hail rivers and drifts were everywhere! They made complicated patterns where they had flowed with the heavy runoff, and many could be measured in depths of feet! I could still hear some thunder in the distance, but everything was eerily silent except for the crunching of the settling and flowing hail. Carefully I pushed piles of ice back from my side of the bike and stood up. It took tremendous effort, as my exposed leg was not too keen on supporting my weight, and I had to be careful not to let The Dragon fall as I rose. She was none too steady on her stand.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p141-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 04, 2014, 11:06:38 AM
I surveyed my situation and would have whistled long and low had I actually been able to whistle. It came out more as spitting blood and an agonized moan as flexing my lip caused my nose to throb in pain. I settled for a grunting, "Wow!" instead. I had stopped merely feet short of a line of large rocks and broken concrete separating the road from the water. I had travelled a number of feet down the shallow embankment from the road and I was within spitting distance of the water. There were drifts of hail against the bike and the rocks that had me pretty well bunched in.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer p142
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 05, 2014, 08:35:09 AM
Carl Stearns Clancy and Walter Rendell Storey arrived in Dublin on 18 October 1912, all set to conquer the world on their Hendersons. Except for one small but significant detail- Storey had never ridden a motorbike in his life. A fact which even the normally imperturbable Clancy admitted people might find a little queer.
Undeterred by such a hurdle, they did what any men in their right minds would do: saw the sights and went shopping.
They visited the Bank of Ireland in College Green which, until the passing of the Act of Union in 1801, had once housed the Irish Parliament; admired the Book of Kells in Trinity; bought woollen underclothes and waterproof shoes and gloves; and at City Hall registered their machines and secured UK licences for 10 shillings each. Clancy's verdict on Dublin at the end of the day: 'nearly everything at least 50 years behind the times'.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p2-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 06, 2014, 08:48:41 PM
Then, filling their petrol tanks to the brim for a shilling and seven pence, they set off for Phoenix Park so that Clancy could teach Storey to ride. It was, according to Clancy, a relatively successful lesson, 'By dark, he had mastered his steed completely, but we were compelled to leave our machines in a nearby house till morning, having no carbide in our lamps.’
The next morning, they affixed to the Hendersons two around-the-world pennants made by a pair of charming Irish girls who had befriended them on the transatlantic crossing, mended their clothes and adopted them as brothers, and set off at last on their grand adventure. Only to be stopped before they got to the end of the street by a policeman - 'a beautiful specimen of a gigantic, almost wax "Bobby"' - who insisted they get number plates for their front mudguards.’
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 07, 2014, 12:27:27 PM
And then it struck me: there were two things that had not changed a bit. One was the same urge that drove Clancy, me, Gary and all the bikers around us: the unstoppable desire to get on a motorbike and ride off with the sense of infinite possibility we had as children but lose as adults, and in the process forge the sword of our destiny in the crucible of adventure.
Since we were mostly blokes, maybe we were just victims the bugger-off gene, which compels men to bugger off now and again. Resistance is futile.
 And the other thing that had not changed, of course, was Clancy's boots, which were nestled in one of my panniers along with an around-the-world pennant which I would give to Dr Gregory Frazier in San Francisco some months hence.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 08, 2014, 02:26:49 PM
I climbed back on the BMW, filled with admiration for how Clancy had ridden the Henderson on these steep and winding Donegal roads with luggage on the back and Storey on the front; and wondered what he would have made of the sure-footed but nimble GS, never mind our armoured Gore-tex suits and state-of-the art flip-up helmets.
Although the Henderson engine was the fastest and most advanced motorcycle in the world, with a top speed of around 70mph, the 934cc engine made just 7bhp and the bike had only one gear and no front brakes. In comparison, our machines made 110 bhp from only a slightly bigger engine, never mind having traction control, ABS, heated grips, fog lamps, everything from average speed and mpg to the time of high tide in Hong Kong on the dash, and what I imagine would have been most astonishing to him, an electronic suspension system you could toggle on the move between Normal,  Comfort and Sport, and within those modes set it for every riding load from 'Victoria Beckham on Diet' to Two Fat Ladies with Kitchen Sink'.
No, on second thoughts, what would have astonished him most was the fact that to fill the tanks of both Hendersons back in Dublin had cost him a shilling and seven pence, but to do the same with the Beemers worked out at about 92 quid.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p10-11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 09, 2014, 09:20:27 AM
Warmed, fed and watered, we fell gratefully into bed. Gary took turns at keeping each other awake by snoring in shifts, and we rose at seven and were on the road at eight, heading for he balmy south. Before long, the temperature on the dash had climbed to a positively sub-tropical three degrees.
It is, I thought, remarkable how simple the pleasures of motorcycling are. The snow or the rain falls, and you're sad. The sun comes out, and you're happy. You crash and nearly kill yourself, and you're sad. You realise you're lucky to be alive, and you're happy again.
As were Clancy and Storey, for with an equally early start, they made a record 133 miles that day, proceeding speedily along splendid roads past assorted bleak moors, ravines waterfalls and assorted picturesque shepherds with story book crooks minding their enormous flocks, and stopping briefly in Gretna Green.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 10, 2014, 10:18:48 AM
As Gary was setting up his camera to replicate Clancy's photograph, a young man came wandering down the street clutching a coffee and stopped to admire the bikes and their burden of baggage. “You're not just out for the day on those, then,” he said, then turned out to be a biker and IT technician called Oliver Stirling, and the first person we had met on the trip who had actually heard of Clancy. “Read about him in a motorbike magazine. What a fabulous thing to do,” he said, heading off to work as another biker came over.
Bikers are always doing this, which makes travelling by motorcycling such a sociable experience. You don't really find Toyota Corolla drivers wandering over to other Corolla drivers and swapping thrilling tales of another day on the M25.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p35-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 11, 2014, 12:04:44 PM
Clancy arrived at  the garage to find their bikes had been cleaned, topped up with fuel and oil, and the tool bags supplied with metric spark plug adapters and a road map, for all of which their good Samaritan refused payment except for a short ride on the Henderson.
It was hardly surprising. The Dutch are model Europeans, and bikers are always friendly to each other, generally stopping to see if another rider stopped by the roadside is okay, and nodding to each other when they pass which, along with the visored helmets, the armoured suits and the gauntlets, always makes me think of them as modern-day knights.
Or possibly ants, the only other species to nod at each other as they pass.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p52
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 12, 2014, 09:25:49 AM
What then followed was the worst ride of the trip so far.
Clancy set off at 5.30 p.m. on 'wretched roads' that shook him to a pulp, and by the time darkness fell at nine, he had only covered 60 miles. After an hour in which he saw neither a living soul nor a house, and now unable to see the holes and rocks in the road let alone avoid them, he fell twice, the first time smashing his light and the second almost breaking his leg.
He pressed on into the night, pushing the bike across countless rivers, until his nerve was badly shaken when the shadows at the bottom of a steep descent suddenly turned out to be a raging torrent.
“After a while I got so I didn't care - philosophically reflecting that one must die sometime and to die with one's boots on is very noble; so I rushed all the fords that came later, and surprised myself each time by reaching the other side alive. My dear old Henderson seemed to enjoy the excitement,” he wrote in his diary.
With no moon and no lamp, he had to quit at last, and found a bed for the night in the 'crumbling village of Tordera, where, watched by the entire village, he had a late supper of coffee and toast.
I wonder what he would made of the eight-lane motorway along which we sped at 80mph, or the smooth-surfaced side roads, bright with rapeseed, that led into Tordera. Which, by the way, is still crumbling away nicely.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p83-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 13, 2014, 03:18:57 PM
In Italy
With the autostrada empty before us and a queue of cars and trucks coming the other way, it was like a perfect advertisement for motorcycling as we swooped and dived through bends as fast as we dared.
In the next half hour we were passed only once, by the driver of a scarlet Alfa who swept past us with a wicked grin, doing at least 130mph. As we were filling up at the next service station, a police car pulled up and the driver got out and walked over.
Whoops, I thought. “Nice bikes, guys,” he said in flawless English. “The corners south of here are great, so enjoy them.”
We laughed, and thanked him, and half an hour down the road we saw him pulling over a driver with Swiss plates, presumably to fine him for obeying the speed limit and then send him home for being more interested in money than the important things in life, like love, beauty and who won the football last night.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p88-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 14, 2014, 12:17:29 PM
Tragically, what he had been about to say - that Bassolino had cleaned up the city centre, dealt effectively with its traffic problem and was tackling the stranglehold of organised crime, was drowned out by a group of well-dressed businessmen nearby shouting at each other at the tops of their voices while waving their arms around so extravagantly that it could only be a matter of time before one of them took off and rammed one of the few pigeons who still bothered flying in Naples.
'What are they arguing about?' I'd asked Antonio.
“They are not arguing. They are discussing last night's football match,” he'd said over a constant racket of honking horns and policemen blowing whistles at Swiss motorists who had actually stopped for a red light rather than, like local drivers, accelerating through it.
Like Clancy, we rode south for a few miles and took refuge in the cypress glades of what was once Pompeii, where he paid 60 cents admission and, armed with a local guidebook and a well- thumbed copy of Edward George Bulwer-Lytton's “Last Days of Pompeii”, fought off a horde of guides offering to show him around for a mere $20.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p109-110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 15, 2014, 01:45:07 PM
As we were unloading the bikes, a local man pulled up on a dusty Africa Twin and came over for a chat. “Nice bikes, guys, although I prefer mine for off-roading/ he said. 'What are the wheels on those?'
“The back's 17 inches, and the front's 19,” said Gary.
“Hang on,” I said, “does that mean the back wheel goes around faster and overtakes the front?”
“Aye, and it's happened to me several times.”
 Clancy, meanwhile, had left the Henderson in Naples and hopped on the express train for the four-hour journey to Rome after declaring the roads in Italy too wretched to even consider motorcycling because of the huge, square slabs left behind by le Romans and the dust which, when it was dry, clogged up the engine, and when wet turned to treacherous mud.
He would have been slightly surprised by the volume of traffic today, in a country whose government boasts a fleet of 629,000 official cars, ten times as many as the US government. And he would have been stunned to see the amount of motorbikes in Rome, from burbling Moto Guzzis through snarling Ducatis to the squadrons of buzzing Vespas.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p112
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 16, 2014, 09:41:23 AM
“So how did you get into biking, Alfons?” said Gary, changing the subject in the nick of time.
“It's a weird story,” said Alfons. “When I was at university in Antwerp, I got a scholarship to Santa Cruz in California, so I flew to LA, got a car for $20 on one of those one-way delivery schemes, then got lost in the worst part of LA after dark and ended up in a street where all the lights were broken and all the shops boarded up.
“Suddenly I saw lights about a mile away, and when I got there I saw it was a pub. I pulled up to ask for directions, all these Hell's Angels piled out and swarmed around the car, and I thought they were going to kill me.
“Instead, they led me to the freeway, invited me back for a rideout the following week, lent me a Harley Sportster,  then let me keep it tor the three months I was there, so the moment I got home, I bought one, and I've been a biker ever since.”
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p123
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 17, 2014, 09:32:01 AM
As the Bulow docked in Nagasaki, Clancy emerged on deck, breathed in the salt sea air, and almost certainly grinned with pleasure to see, as his Henderson was lowered onto the dockside, a sight he had not seen for some time: roads.
Indeed, as he cranked the engine into life for the first time in weeks and motored north, the roads were so good that not even being restricted to 15mph by culverts, mysterious 90-degree bends, rickshaws and pony carts dampened his spirits.
Around him was a country more delightful, beautiful, peculiar ar*d above all different to anything he had ever seen, particularly the quaint habit of locals to dash out of their homes and into the road when they heard his horn, thinking it meant the arrival of the fried fish salesman, the pipe cleaner or the clog mender.
Still, apart from kamikaze pedestrians, rickshaws and carts, he had the roads to himself, since he saw no motorcycles and only a single car in his whole time in Japan. It is, as you can imagine, much the same today.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p171
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 18, 2014, 10:20:43 AM
And so, at last, it was time to meet Dr Gregory Frazier, or Dr G, as he had become dubbed in our email correspondence. Or indeed Sun Chaser, the Indian name his grandfather had given him when he was four after his habit of running around the reservation chasing the sun.
It was a habit he carried into adult life: after a motorcycle racing career, he'd ridden around the world five times, the last time with a sixty-three-year-old grandmother of six who had been diagnosed with Parkinson's disease.
Although she had never been on a motorcycle before meeting Dr G, she convinced him to take her around the world on the pillion in an adventure lasting fourteen months and covering nearly 30,000 miles.
In 2010, aged sixty-two, he announced that increasing costs, red tape and age had caught up with him, and he was giving up the gentle art of circumnavigation and was now going to spend the summers in the US and the winters in Thailand.
“It's likely I'll keep logging between 30,000 and 50,000 miles rear, but I simply plan on being more fiscally conservative and responsible during these lean economic times and less of a wastrel merely circling the globe,” he said.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p191
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 19, 2014, 08:48:58 AM
''Sacramento always has and always will be dead, they'll tell you in San Francisco, and they sure are right,” fumed Clancy, who at least got some solace when one of the dealers invited him to a hill-climb challenge on a nearby railway embankment.
When the dealer's well-known twin-cylinder machine, probably a Harley, got stuck, Clancy climbed on his machine whispered to the old boy to do his best, and the Henderson responded with pride, sailing past the dealer with ease in spite of the 14,000 miles on the clock.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p194
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 20, 2014, 03:37:41 PM
Since the roads were straight and empty and the sky was blue, I dumped my jacket in the top box and rode in shirtsleeves, savouring the sun and feeling like a boy on summer holidays.
Absolutely disgraceful and irresponsible, of course. Don't tell the Institute of Advanced Motorists, or I'll be thrown out; and whatever you do, don't tell Adelaide and BMW, since they think I'm working.
By lunchtime we were rolling into lone, which you'll be pleased to hear won the State volleyball championships three years running; and possibly surprised, since to call it a one-horse town would be a victory of marketing over reality.
The sole pub had long since closed, but the owner of the deli down the single street rustled us up some sandwiches and her husband rustled up a potted history of the town, which when Clancy passed through was a thriving railroad hub and wheat freighting town of several thousand souls served by six grocery stores, eight churches and three brothels.
Today the population was 340, and falling, because back then a grain farmer needed thirty or forty men to run his concern.  These days he just needs a combine harvester and an iPad app.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p206
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 21, 2014, 06:22:24 PM
Further down the road, a series of billboards heralded the forthcoming week-long Rock Creek Lodge Testicle Festival, presumably culminating in a series of gala balls.
This, since you ask, is a celebration of the time of year when young bulls and rams are deprived of their family jewels, which are then fried and eaten as a delicacy known as prairie oysters. They are, by all accounts, delicious, but you'll have to take Rock Creek Lodge's word for it, since, although I've eaten everything from grasshopper to guinea pig, a chap has to draw the line somewhere.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p213-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 22, 2014, 09:22:36 AM
Richard led the way around a tight bend, only to skid on some gravel then tumble off into the grass ditch.
He and the bike were fine, but as Murphy's Law would have it, two cops in a patrol car came around the bend a minute later. Still, after they'd checked his driving licence and were satisfied he was legally entitled to fall off, they let us go.
Lucky it hadn't happened in Singapore, or he would have got life for damaging the grass.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p222-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 23, 2014, 08:34:41 AM
And then, at last, the holy grail: the only original 1912 Henderson in the world.
Of the fifteen or so Hendersons made in that year, John Parham knew of only three in existence today, and the other two had been restored with later parts, making this the only unrestored one, down to the original paint and tyres.
 And while Paddy Guerin's Henderson at the start of our trip had been a 1922 three-speed model, this was the real deal, with 7hp, one gear, a hand-crank starter and no front brakes.
I stood there looking at the motorcycle which would soon be joined by the effects of the man who had ridden one of them around the world a century ago, and as much as I had marvelled at Clancy's courage in making the journey we had followed, I now marvelled even more when I saw the machine he had done it on. To contemplate it was the act of a madman, and to complete it the act of a hero.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p225
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 24, 2014, 08:42:04 AM
Naturally, now that we were handing back the bikes in couple of days, I had become almost proficient at riding mine. I could do tight circles at walking pace, and come to a dead stop at junctions, look around me, read War and Peace and then move off again, all without putting my feet down. Another million years of this, and I might even be able to go around bends half as fast as Gary did while he was standing on the pegs and taking a photo.
“You are getting better,” he said when I mentioned it. “I actually saw you leaning into a corner the other day.”
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p231
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 25, 2014, 09:02:54 AM
The weather, as it had been pretty much every day in the States, was perfect, and I rode in a T-shirt along the freeway savouring the perfect harmony between the hot sun and the cool wind on my arms, and as we turned onto the backroads for the last few miles to the Clancy home, the chill of plunging into the shade of trees, then the warm balm of emerging again into the light.
As I said right at the start of the journey, motorcycling provides the simplest of pleasures.
I was savouring, too, the visceral growl of the engine beneath me. On its own, it was just a collection of metal bits and bobs, but brought to life by the spark of ignition, it could take you to wherever your heart desired; in the same way that the spark of inspiration had made Clancy set out around the world, had made Dr G spend sixteen years digging up dusty magazine articles to write Motorcycle Adventurer, and had made me realise as I read it how wonderful it would be to recreate that same journey on its centenary.
In Clancy’s Boots  Geoff Hill  p232-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 26, 2014, 10:36:14 AM
That same afternoon I blasted down the Pacific coast tor a year of roaming the western U.S., drifting from town to town with only an extra change of clothes and a sleeping bag. Friends were off in college warning me on the dangers of motorcycling- I was never so content.
One accepts numerous risks when embarking on the two-wheeled path to salvation. We learn to tolerate unmerciful weather, from painfully blazing heat to tooth-clacking freezing cold. For the most part, we’re invisible to other drivers, who run us over then claim, "Sorry, I didn't see the guy."
If that's not enough, as we lean blissfully through mountain curves, there's that nagging threat of what's around the next bend. Water, sand, or gravel spell loss of traction and an abrasive body-to-pavement slide as the layers of protection disintegrate, starting with our clothing, down to skin, meat, and bone.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 27, 2014, 09:18:19 AM
On the other hand, the wind in our face combined with blood draining from our brains under hard acceleration toys with our reasoning. Or maybe it's being swept under the influence of inertia and centrifugal force in a fast hard lean through the curves of a well-engineered banked turn that keeps us gasping for more. Winding out through the gears on a high-performance motorcycle is rapture.
But adventure travel on a motorcycle is more subdued. And although it can be a roller coaster ride of surging adrenaline, that's due more to the danger of unpredictable consequences exploring regions and countries where little makes sense to the uninitiated and sometimes unwelcome.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p4-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 28, 2014, 08:46:05 AM
One moment the air is damp and sweet with the fragrance of fresh cut fields. The next it is filled with angry flying insects swarming in a dark formation, obviously annoyed about running headlong into a pack of invading motorists. As they harmlessly bounce off my shirt and splatter on my helmet, I'm miraculously escaping without being stung. Suddenly, I feel a buzzing sensation of tiny furiously vibrating wings, right where I'm sitting, followed by several sharp stings in my left testicle.
The pain is incredible. Swatting the bee increases the pain. There is no shoulder to pull off on and I'm stuck between two giant tour buses trying to break the land speed record. One hand is down the front of my trousers groping through a manual checkup when the bus behind me decides to pass. I look up in time to catch an audience of fascinated tourists gawking at me, unaware of my predicament. As the bus slowly slides past, a few senoritas smile with a blush and men hoot while saluting with a thumbs-up.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 29, 2014, 08:07:39 AM
The best part of the day is in the early morning when my mind is most alert and I'm freshly saddled up with my gear cinched down and rocketing past the last traffic signal out of some crowded Mexican town. Choking clouds of filthy exhaust fumes disappear as the sweetness of the countryside fills my soul. There is no greater feeling of freedom.
It's always a welcome relief to stop at the end of a long day's ride and relax in a friendly family-owned hotel with the promise of a refreshing shower and exotic meal. But nothing tops the exhilaration of taking to the open road before the brutal heat of day intrudes. It's like a pleasing mystery unravelling, the unknown evolving into reality as one bizarre scene after another reveals itself with as much casual grace as utter confusion.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p22
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 30, 2014, 08:50:22 AM
I have not seen a car or human for hours. I daydream that I am the last man on earth. There is no hustle and nowhere I have to be. I can stop and dive into paradise, or continue slowly meandering, as a lazy leaf drifting down a twisting river, without worry. I can't recall what day it is; time is no longer a factor. I only think in terms of now. There is no before or after. I rejoice in the splendour of solitude, marvelling with the tropical sun. It's only early fall and I will travel through winter into spring, guided by summer rains of a distant southern hemisphere.
There is no place to be, no one to meet, and much to peer into. I'm often unsure of where I am but I know I'm always where I want to be. As in a dream, so deeply alone, my only companion is the shadow beneath my wandering spirit.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p23-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 01, 2014, 10:25:33 AM
Incredible forested scenery unfolds as I wind back up through the steep rocky hillsides surrounding a crystal blue lake ringed by snoozing volcanoes and mountaintops hidden in the clouds. The old Indian warned that the road is rough and narrow- that was an understatement. Hairpin turns are so sharp and continuous it's impossible to shift out of second gear for almost seventy miles. The best thing about bandit country is that there's no traffic and I have the mountains to myself.
An hour into the ride, whatever sickness that has been lurking kicks in and soon I slump over my gas tank wrangling for balance. Although the mountains are chilly I get by in light gear while sweating profusely. It's better to stop and rest but I heed the Indian's warnings. In this isolated territory getting caught out alone is a bad idea.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p41-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 02, 2014, 10:40:48 AM
When manufacturers call their rain suits waterproof, they lie. There is no rain suit made that repels water indefinitely. As any geologist will attest, water will ultimately have its way and travel where it wants. In this case, water wants to be inside my rain suit and make my situation miserable. Water has its way.
The initial phase begins with headwinds forcing chilling trickles around my rain suit collar and down my neck to the front of my chest, causing waves of muscle-tensing shivers. Next, persistent cross breezes push little streams around my wrists, past the cuffs and up arms. Drop by drop water seeps through the plastic zippers and to the brim with chocolate coloured muck.
Fortunately, this whole process requires a few hours, during which time I stay fairly comfortable. I started at three in the afternoon and it is now six in the evening and pitch black. I'm not only well soaked under the rain suit, but also visually impaired by darkness and freezing cold. Traffic is heavier than normal and the rain is only getting worse. The drenching is so strong that the only time it stops crashing straight down is when it blasts diagonally head-on. Combined with the wind, it feels like a crush of water pushing me backwards as though swimming upstream against a powerful current.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p66
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 03, 2014, 08:18:04 AM
Because of numerous daily assassinations carried out in Colombia on motorcycles by two-man hit teams wearing full-faced helmets to prevent identification, legislators have created special laws. When riding a motorcycle here, everyone must wear a bright orange vest with license plate numerals written in big fluorescent numbers on the back and front. If caught not wearing this vest, you'll be treated as a potential assassin. This is deadly serious in Colombia, with warnings of certain arrest if even attempting to ride back from the airport to the hotel without a vest. There's no place nearby to buy one, so using a sheet of white paper, I write my plate number with a black marker on it and tape it to my back, hoping this will suffice until I find a shop to have a proper vest made. It works; none of the lurking motorcycle cops on street corners looks twice.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p76
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 04, 2014, 06:47:51 AM
I am including only three excerpts from the kidnapping event, since it’s not directly motorcycling action or philosophy.  It’s included here since it’s central to the book as per the title.

They grow annoyed by my answers and charge, "Mentiroso" (Liar.) Next, the Comandante’s assistant delivers a swift boot from behind to the side of my head, causing an explosive ringing in my right ear. I don't want to take a beating on the ground and try to get up, which only provides a better target. Thus far I had complied with all their orders and had not given them any reason for abuse. From their political ranting it's apparent they consider me as an American, their enemy and responsible for their misery. They take great satisfaction in venting their rage, laughing while they kick and stomp my chest and back. They tire of it after a minute then drag me back to the loft, untie my hands, and order me to climb up.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p93-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 05, 2014, 06:30:43 PM
We march again for a few more hours to another confinement area where I am locked in an old abandoned wooden shed with nothing inside except a filthy cement floor surrounded by wasp hives and insect nests in the ceiling. These are the most hideous bugs yet, and they proceed to devour me without delay. The heat is unbearable. Sealed inside the well-guarded perimeter and left to do battle with aggressive critters, I'm unable to brush them off fast enough before reinforcements join in.
 Guards deny permission to relieve myself as before; instead, they hand me an empty jug and order me to remain inside. There's nothing to do but stand and wait. If I sit, the bugs attack twice as fast and it's a constant battle swatting them off.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p100
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 06, 2014, 08:45:27 AM
While waiting to be locked down after bathing, I lean against one of the wooden support posts holding up an outside wall of the ranchita when an unexpected explosion booms through the air. The noise is so loud I feel the concussion against my skin. Stinging debris sprays across the front of my body accompanied by the irritating acrid smoke of discharged gunpowder. My first thought is that someone had detonated a cherry bomb as the echo under the porch painfully resonates like a slap against my ears.
 It takes a few moments to realize the pole I'd been resting against had disintegrated into wooden fragments and splinters across the front of my shirt and face. I'm baffled by what's happened until noticing one of the younger rebels, who had been carelessly cleaning his gun, sheepishly looking up at me with a "woops" expression. Even stranger is my lack of reaction- I'm so numb over what has occurred in the past several weeks, I'm unfazed and merely shuffle back inside and fall asleep. Life has evolved onto a new level: I now exist within a psychological vacuum, without emotion, mentally withdrawing at every opportunity from this world of misery, my captors' and mine. They too, along with the local campesinos, live within a prison of despair.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p132-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 07, 2014, 01:07:05 PM
Liberated from other people's time schedules, chronic delays, and bureaucratic complications, I tumble back joyously into the freedom of the road and excitement of adventure that only motorcycle travel can create. Dark moments are gone and negative images are on hold. I emerge from a foggy haze and what was so frustratingly dancing at the end of my fingertips is now in the firm grasp of my heart. Even the slow pace of traffic is welcome. Inquisitive children at gas stations, gently banked turns through the mountains, and the sweet smell of fresh-mowed meadows all remind me of why I'm here. Tantalizing exotic fruit peddled roadside next to open-air restaurants serving sizzling local meals cooked on open fires once again tease me with the urge to lay down another mile.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p190
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 08, 2014, 09:39:24 AM
Ahead there's a string of monstrous semi-trucks spewing black clouds of filthy fumes big enough to command my immediate attention, and the race is on to the rapidly approaching curves. I'm back into the rhythm of duelling with multi-wheeled, rolling monolithic beasts hell-bent on ignoring little motorcycles. The lumbering danger quickens my pulse, reminding me that speed and agility are all that a motorcyclist has to compete with. As anyone who has ever travelled roads like these is well aware, size does matter.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p191
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 09, 2014, 09:55:52 AM
Traffic in Peru lives up to its reputation as some of the wildest in South America. Drivers play a non-stop, nerve-racking game of bumper-car chicken. The rules: vehicles travelling in the same direction must maintain light contact, barely tapping the next car’s fenders. Amidst the synchronized chaos, horns are used in the same way that motorists in other countries use their brakes. Travel reports indicate Argentina is even worse- I can hardly wait.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p199
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 10, 2014, 08:45:19 AM
With nothing to hinder the relentless winds, blurs of blinding dust spin into malicious sandstorms, ending as unpredictably as they began. The abrasive crud accumulating on the outside of my body also accumulates inside my nose and throat. This irritates my sinuses but I'm more concerned about the air filtration system on the carburettor and effects of abrasive grit on the inside of my panting little engine.
Two-man teams of bored Transito police inhabit scattered isolated military outposts, sporadically flagging over unlucky motorists as a means to pay their rent. They usually wave me on: I'm too insignificant to bother with. If they do stop me, it's only to ask about my journey and relate a few tales of their own travels. Everyone is amiable in Peru, even the cops.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p200
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 11, 2014, 07:19:01 AM
We turn to plan B- finding someone to rebuild the factory shock. One man tells us to come back at five o'clock and he will have it done. I explain in broken, near impossible to understand Spanish, this won't work, it must be earlier. No problem, how about three o'clock? That's perfect. I can be on the road by five and only have a few hours of difficult night riding ahead.
Later that day, with the sun gracefully retreating below the horizon, I blast past the last tollbooth exiting Lima and ride onto the autopista, hoping for an overnight in Pisco. From there, I'll deviate off the Pan American Highway and spiral back into the Andes.
Yet in my hurry, I failed to inspect the rebuilt shock when we re-installed it and later discovered that all the mechanic did for the fifty bucks I paid him was clean it. Even though there was no improvement, there is still a bright side. At least toll roads in Peru are free for motorcycles and the government does something here that I found in few other countries- they repair their potholes.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p203
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 12, 2014, 12:46:12 PM
As the winds subside, a light ocean mist deposits a film of salt on my face shield, which I stop to clear every twenty minutes. During these moments, I shut down the engine just to savour the roaring silence. Marvelling at the enveloping chilly desolation, it's difficult not to linger. I love the desert as much as the mountains the jungle, and am continuously captivated by the contrasts this planet has graciously offered its inhabitants. While a prisoner in Colombia I dreamed of these moments, knowing if I survived, I would one day complete this ride no matter how long it took. Once again, I eagerly plunge southward, overwhelmed in the pure ecstasy of feeling alive.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p204
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 13, 2014, 08:57:42 AM
There is a paved road leading to Cusco that would have been much easier to travel, so why would anyone intentionally set out into such extreme conditions? Because on a journey like this, challenges define life and make a man feel alive. Also, it's the best darn ride since departing California. Storybook Andean scenery opens like secret pages of ancient mountain marvels unfolding for only those who witness it firsthand. Grinning until my jaw aches, I peer outward through my face shield at the sharp multicoloured canyons and towering peaks above- it's as though I'm ricocheting through time with little to indicate what century this is. For hundreds of miles in all directions in the frigid mountain air, no two viewpoints are alike, rendering me breathless in awe of this natural phenomenon that I've only imagined. This is the reason to experience Peru and it's worth every second of hassle and discomfort.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p205
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 14, 2014, 09:12:12 AM
As the back end of the bike abruptly begins to sway, I'm not sure if it's due to a rutted road or my rear tire going flat. I don't want to stop and find out which. The bike is too unstable to shift out of second gear and suddenly the road ahead leads downward. Yet this is a sword that cuts two ways; I’m rapidly descending but also out of control on frozen ground. My brakes are useless and all I can do is keep my legs stretched out, wildly paddling with my feet in an attempt to remain upright.
Within thirty minutes I'm exhausted from struggling for stability but at least I'm descending. As the foul weather lessens and temperatures climb, the frozen road returns to mud. Another mile down the steep grade, twinkling lights appear. Maybe a car, a truck, a farmhouse? At this point, anything means relief from shivering. My rain suit is completely soaked but my electric vest pumps lifesaving heat.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p212
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 15, 2014, 08:52:27 AM
When my rear tire finally fails, within seconds, I 'm riding the rim, wobbling all over the road. I could possibly continue rolling at a slower pace but would quickly destroy the tire. I opt for running next to the bike, guiding it downhill toward the distant lights. For the last two months, people from around the world have sent emails wishing me well and praying for my safety- and maybe tonight those pleas were answered. There's no other way to explain how, on this miserable stormy night, the only other vehicle on this deserted mountain road happens to be a flatbed truck with a crew who have just finished unloading their cargo at a distant farm.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p212
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 16, 2014, 08:32:16 AM
Even though the road is well paved through open spaces and nearly all straightaways have zero traffic, we agree to a limit of sixty mph. Back in the States this would call for ninety mph cruising but here, I'm driving him crazy riding slow and eventually, foolishly allow myself to be drawn into matching his pace.
Suddenly out of nowhere bolts one of the thousands of dogs that chase motorcycles in South America. Unaware there are two of us, El Fido attacks the lead bike travelling at seventy-five mph. Unable to match the biker's speed, he slows to a fast walk, directly across path of my fishtailing Kawasaki 650, infamous for its poor braking ability. Were both lucky, as he barely leaps out of the way while my front tire gobbles up sections of tail fur.
Collision with anything at this speed means loss of control and a tenth of a second difference could've brought us both down. I consider how this might have ended. There are no emergency helicopters here to whisk an injured biker off to high-tech trauma centres. I likely would lie here until a speeding truck or bus rolled along to finish the job.
My companion never notices or looks back, violating a cardinal rule to keep an eye on your partner. The lead rider should always keep track of the rider behind in his mirror, in case he runs into trouble. This distraction increases the hazard of riding lead, yet it is part of the responsibility that comes with that position, a reason I prefer to ride lead.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p218-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 17, 2014, 09:13:29 AM
The upcoming ride across the southern half of the Bolivian Andes will cover some of the most remote and scenic regions of the country. From here on, I'll be experiencing the Altiplano at altitudes of 14,000 to 17,000 feet, across hundreds of miles of salt flats and deserted plateaus. Vast segments are unmapped and those maps that do exist often disagree about where, or even if, there's a road. Even my GPS shows only open, high-altitude plains of barren landscape between international borders. Mostly, I plan to follow tire tracks in the sand or salt across immense, dry lake beds- tracks that may not show up in the rain.
There are several 300 mile stretches with no fuel available but my bike's range is about 260 depending on conditions. Even with a spare three-gallon fuel supply, if I take off in a wrong direction against a headwind, it could mean trouble.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p224-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 19, 2014, 03:21:29 PM
An extended stretch of windblown decomposed granite quickly becomes the worst washboard surface imaginable. The cross-grooves are from six to ten inches deep and are spaced wide enough to prevent smoothing the bumpiness by riding the tops a little faster. There is an inescapable, violent jarring at any speed with no relief from the relentless punishment of eyeballs jiggling so bad I can barely focus.
When the road is not washboard, it turns to soft coarse sand, without any visible warning in advance. A firm wrenching of my handlebars as the front wheel digs in signals its too late to slow down. What's left is to accept the new direction the front wheel is twisting into, and fight to remain upright. These stretches drag on for miles and, for the last few hours, I can't shift out of first gear without sacrificing control. Even at five mph, at this altitude it's an exhausting struggle to maintain a straight line.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p226
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 20, 2014, 09:25:32 AM
The first stretch of wet clay whisks the bike out from underneath me, sending us both sliding sideways, tearing a saddlebag off in the process. There's been no other traffic all day, so I'm alone trying to pick up the bike on a sloping surface I can barely stand on without slipping. With some serious grunting, I turn backwards, lifting with leg power, and just as I manoeuvre the bike upright, my boots slide and we both go down again. I use every bit of remaining strength on the next few tries until finally managing to put the kickstand down and rest for a moment before jumping back on to continue. There's a second to waste; I'm already behind.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p227
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 21, 2014, 09:39:04 AM
The final bouncing blast to catch the elusive Land Cruiser lasts only seconds, just long enough to build up enough speed to kick into third gear. Instantly the front end washes out from underneath me, and I shoot forward, head first over the handlebars, straight to the ground like an arrow. An excruciating crack is followed by silent, empty black.
At first I think it's Dutch being spoken, then Hebrew, then German. Somewhere in the swirling unconsciousness surfaces a soft familiar echo ... "I think he is still breathing." Finally, in a distinctive Kiwi accent, I hear a young New Zealander ask, "You spyke English? Can ya 'ear me, mite?"
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p233-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 22, 2014, 09:50:13 AM
When it's first switched on, the GPS screen features a series of rotating balls that spin around the viewer screen to indicate a search mode for satellites. I know from experience how fast those balls should rotate. Not only does the screen fail to cycle on time to the next phase of satellite signal strength readout, but they process in slow motion as the balls barely move. I recall reading in the manual that this unit should operate in sub-freezing temperatures. I can only guess that it must be more than ten degrees below zero. I chuckle at the thought of going for a motorcycle ride when it is cold enough to shut down an all-weather instrument like a GPS.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p238-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 23, 2014, 09:40:40 AM
I planned on staying in Santiago for three nights, but after only two, I yield to the familiar pull of the road and ecstatic rush of asphalt passing under my butt at ninety feet per second. Since the ordeal with Colombian guerrillas, the psychological aftermath has been gaining on me. I know the bullet I dodged will eventually catch up, however I figure if I keep moving, I can stay ahead of whatever is in store. At times, the turmoil feels as though I'm charging down a mountain trying to outrun an avalanche. For now, I need to continue on so whatever is going to hit will do so when I'm safe at home. Motorcyclists know the therapeutic effects of twisting a throttle- I keep twisting mine to outrun the avalanche.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p246
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 24, 2014, 09:33:40 AM
Worse than predicted, the ride south on Route 40 becomes a steady fight to remain upright for 320 miles- average speed is twenty-five mph while I'm on the edge of control the entire time. The gravel is deep and loose, forcing my front tire in directions I don't want to go. There are twelve-inch-deep tire grooves carved down to solid clay. If I remain within them, employing total concentration, it's possible to hit third gear.
It's hard to believe what is happening as the fiercest crosswinds imaginable blast in laterally. A gas station attendant casually remarks, “You're lucky- the wind is not too bad yet." Still, it's as though enormous, invisible hands randomly slap me across the road without warning. With each explosive gust, I veer off uncontrollably across the deep ridges of gravel with outstretched legs, wildly wobbling back and forth.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p261
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 25, 2014, 09:20:20 AM
Although the road is solid enough to support speeds up to fifty or so, incredibly ferocious winds blasting in off the prairie force me to slow into a second-gear crawl. If someone had described these conditions earlier, I wouldn't have believed them. Even in the midst of a vicious gust, it's difficult to comprehend turbulence of such intensity. Leaning to the right as far and hard as possible, raging wind currents not only hold me up, they lift the bike off the ground, shoving us sideways. As the wind snaps my neck from side to side, I feel like a crinkled paper bag being smacked around the landscape. Why I've not been blown across the desert is beyond me. It's so crazy I laugh out loud.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p263
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 26, 2014, 12:23:04 PM
When gale forces revert to a tailwind, the silence sweeping in from behind evolves into a spooky tranquillity. A light pressure against my back indicates the wind blowing faster than I'm moving forward. My curiosity aroused, I slowly increase my speed to seventy mph, trying to determine how fast the forward air is blowing. Equilibrium is reached at seventy-three mph in a still pocket of air. If I'd wanted to, I could've kept a match lit. I raise my face shield and feel nothing. Dead calm.
Normally when driving at a rapid pace and spotting the shadow of a cloud on the ground ahead, it takes only seconds to overtake and pass through it. Today the shadow remains a few feet beyond my front tire as we travel at the same speed- continuing in unison until the wind shifts, then the shadow flashes behind me in an instant as though the world suddenly skipped ahead.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p268
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 27, 2014, 08:53:04 AM
The angular headwinds switch directions unpredictably, flinging me about while I struggle to maintain lane position. On the plus side, there's no traffic and the road is paved. Even with the throttle wide open, the seventy to eighty mph headwinds keep me at fifty. Gas mileage drops from fifty miles per gallon to the low thirties. I crouch behind the fairing, throw all my weight toward the gale-force blast, and hang on. When slowing down to stop for fuel, the moment I pull in the clutch, it's as though I squeezed the front brake. Once, I came to a complete stop without braking and actually started rolling backwards, blown by the wind. It's far too intense to ride more than six hours at a time, but there are 1,200 miles left to Buenos Aires, and I want out of this madness.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p275-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 28, 2014, 10:21:41 AM
Waiting at a small-town traffic signal, above the sound of the engine's idle, I hear the dreaded noise that sickens hearts of motorcycle riders- metal to metal contact. The low-pitched grinding noise, barely audible above the roar of the wind, compels me to stop and inspect, hoping it's my imagination. Perhaps something caught in the fender. No such luck.
Motorcycles are not popular in South America and outside of major cities there are few shops that sell or repair them. Even in capital cities, Kawasaki dealers are rare. Argentina is more up-to-date and I keep my fingers crossed while asking around for a repair shop. Yes, two blocks down and turn right- a small miracle. Close enough to push and coast. A lucky day after all. The owner is a professional motocross rider who also builds motors, and is about as good a man as you'll ever find. We unbolt the top end to check the valves and work downward from there. Finally we pull the timing chain and alternator to discover an ear broken off the crankcase and the balance chain tensioner is  shattered into five pieces. No parts available in the hemisphere.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p276
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 29, 2014, 09:42:24 AM
The motocross team shows up to assist. Amazingly they reassemble the components in the correct order with no shop manual for technical guidance. To remanufacture the broken part, they saw off the end of a case-hardened wrench and weld it on to what's left of the original balance chain tensioner. Then they countersink the bolt hole inside the crankcase for the broken ear and use a longer bolt to hold it. The balance chain has stretched too far and won't adjust any further, leaving excessive slop. Add to that, the alternator is missing a magnet and out of balance. Still, I'm going to give it a shot, hoping it provides enough charge to keep the bike running.
A few hours later, I make it farther north to the city of Trelew where the lone motorcycle dealer only handles Yamaha. He says I may be able to order Kawasaki parts up ahead in Bahia Blanco, another 450 finger-crossing miles. The engine noises are getting louder, but I opt to roll those dice again and take a chance.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p276-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 30, 2014, 10:18:37 AM
A hundred plus is the norm and apparently without consequence, as I've yet to see a cop anywhere. Speed seems to be a popular though perilous pastime, despite the vehicles being packed with families. When cruising at 100 mph and encountering a vehicle in the distance they wish to pass, drivers accelerate to 120, get as close to the rear fender as possible, and then barely drift to the left to overtake at the last second.
Used to zero traffic, I allow myself to be lulled into ignoring my mirrors. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a two-ton rocket blasts by, close enough to buff the bugs off its bumper, using the rubberized fabric of my saddlebags as a rag. In Argentina, this type of driving is the rule, not the exception. Everyone drives this way as if this manoeuvre is taught in school. I ask myself if these maniacs are the same helpful folks I met earlier in roadside cafes. They had been so friendly. What happened to these wonderful people when they got behind the wheel of a car?
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p278
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 31, 2014, 02:55:57 AM
Nothing surprises me anymore. What was before considered bizarre is now the norm. Sometimes while lost in thought, I realize there is no baseline anymore. I’m no longer certain of who I am but, more important, who I'm expected to be. Nothing is written in stone and I feel as free as the winds of Patagonia. Reality is still foreign to me. It wouldn't surprise me to wake from a dream still a prisoner of the ELN in the mountains of Colombia. In moments of depression I still wonder if these are the final seconds before death. Am I awake or asleep? The avalanche is still closing in, and in times of open nightmare, I seek the only refuge I know- a twist of the throttle and another new town. At times, I sprint to outrun the lunacy.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p284
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 01, 2014, 08:15:41 AM
Despite the numerous warnings describing the dangers of motor cycling in Brazil, so far, the gentle countryside is a biker's paradise. Main roads are well paved and engineered with smooth banked turns through rolling hills. Most are double lane, and motorcycles are exempt from expensive tolls, but gas is three bucks a gallon. Even truckers are polite. If they inadvertently cut me off or switch lanes too closely, they smile and wave apologetically.
Sunday traffic is surprisingly heavy with long lines of rumbling semi-trucks moving fast in tight convoys. It's intimidating to ride between them- caught up in their hot forceful wakes and know how easy it is to get sucked up by powerful currents and drawn underneath their enormous, grinding wheels.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p293
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 02, 2014, 08:28:19 AM
That is what I am doing when, over the popping of my engine and the wind whistling past my helmet, I suddenly hear a high-pitched grating sound. It's the kind bikers are always on alert for and dread.
My heart sinks while I hold my breath, straining to hear and identify the noise. It's definitely getting louder. I pull in the clutch to see if it subsides when the revs drop. No luck. I hear the grating more dearly. Oh no, I think, what the hell else can go wrong? When applying the brakes there's no discernible difference in volume or pitch until coming to a complete stop with the engine shut down. I tear my helmet off, and the muffled sound becomes a roar. Zillions of crickets, locusts, or giant bugs of some species are rubbing their legs, grinding their wings, or just talking loud in their unique pulsating rhythm. The sound fills my head. It's coming from every direction, yet I do not see a single insect anywhere. If somebody were standing next to me, I would need to shout to be heard.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p308
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 03, 2014, 06:13:34 AM
Following this string of lumbering boxes is maddening. I can't wait any longer. Truckers operate on narrow margins, with only three-foot gaps between front bumpers of one to the rear of another. Once taking on the pack, there will be no room to return to my lane if another vehicle approaches from the opposite direction. What the heck, here we go.
I kick it down a gear, hang the throttle open, and pull out of position, determined to pass a mile-long convoy of fellow frustrated motorists. Oncoming traffic forces me to weave in and out of my lane until I reach the front of the line of cars and the back of the monotonous procession of trucks. It's another now-or-never moment. I make it past the first dozen grinding monoliths okay, when suddenly an oncoming car appears over a slight rise ahead, closing in fast. There's no chance to brake, return to the rear, and get back into the correct lane. My only option is to nuzzle my right rear saddlebag as close as possible to the trucker's massive spinning trailer tires and hope for the best.
The approaching car manages two wheels on the shoulder, barely grazing my left rear bag while I fight overpowering hot-air currents sucking me under the trailer's belly. The deafening moan of the semi-truck's mighty engine is like a roaring animal inside my helmet, yet I seem to be in one piece. It's only a hundred miles more.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p313
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 04, 2014, 09:11:52 AM
A simmering situation with the leftist government in Caracas led by the staunchly pro-Castro strongman Hugo Chavez is unpredictable at the moment, and I'm apprehensive about riding through an area known for its support of the rebel movement in Colombia. There are rumours of impending violent civil war. I won't rest until I'm riding safely back in Panama again.
CBS News's 48 Hours television documentary has just aired, and it included my web site address, so I’ve spent the last eight hours reading and attempting to answer as many emails as possible until my eyes give out from staring at a screen so long. The emails number well into the thousands, with an even split between the U.S. and Canada. The documentary's producer told me the program will show again later, with a sequel. I'm astonished at the number of people taking time to write profoundly inspirational words of encouragement- and intend to answer them all. At last count the number rooting me on is nearing 15,000. I save and file each message.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p325
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 05, 2014, 11:13:42 AM
The drizzle finally subsides long enough to witness the renowned but elusive Amazon sunset as a pale indigo sky is soon ringed by huge billowing clouds. My favourite star in the universe sets creamy puffs ablaze into flaming orange with cotton-candy trails of flaring gases erupting outward from the depths of hollow canyons burning somewhere in the heavens. If I had to envision the first moment life sparked on earth it would be one exactly like this. The cosmos joins in this fiery, roaring silence while the heavens make love in the shadow of the earth.
Teakwood decks brim with spellbound voyeurs standing shoulder to shoulder in solemn reverence to the commanding solar array beyond. Each mumbles tribute to their God for a gift of such majesty. Children stop playing, babies cease crying, and lovers grow closer as all are equally awed by this mesmerizing otherworldly scene.
Gradually daylight fades into black velvet night as the finale of cosmic orgasm subsides. Suddenly the overhead sky pops with diamonds cast magically across the void- precious sparkling jewels from far away, yet near enough to caress like raindrops on the tips of my outstretched fingers.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p332
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 06, 2014, 09:20:32 AM
While making preparations for the departure to Panama, I am sad to realize that the most significant experience of my lifetime is ending. It isn't the amount of time I spent in South America. It's the intensity of that time, from enduring the continuous onslaught of some of the worst weather conditions this planet could conjure up, to surviving whatever the darker side of humanity could thunder down upon me. Through it all, there have always been people and places to make the journey worthwhile.
While seeking the pulse of mankind, I encountered spirit-tingling extremes tempered only by the blind justice of Mother Earth. I came to experience life as South Americans do, and in times of despair, often recalled the saying: "Be careful what you wish for".
In life's bleakest moments we should search for silver linings, now more than ever. The time I spent in the vengeful hands of a terrorist organization was like holding my finger in a light socket for five weeks. That brain-frazzling experience taught me as much about myself as well as the world around me. There is a lesson in everything- often the greater the pain, the greater the lesson. The hell my tormentors inflicted upon me can only be answered by one of two attitudes: vile hatred and desire for revenge, or patience and understanding for those born into the misery of poverty and exploitation. Once again, I have learned that living well is the best revenge. Yet while I am free, the rebels are still prisoners of their own misfortune and misguided deeds in the mountains of Colombia.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p333-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 07, 2014, 08:48:39 AM
At times, at the peak of frustration that travellers in strange lands so often endure, just when I thought I couldn't stand anymore, it was the sparkling eyes of a laughing, soft-haired child, the kindness of an ageing Indian woman, or the stunning splendour of the Andes that rocked my spirit and tugged me back eagerly into the wholesome embrace of a land of many faces. When I needed a friend most, one always appeared. There had invariably been someone or something to restore the fire of passion for this continent of such intriguing mysteries and sullen tragedies. My body and soul bear the fingerprints, bruises, and caresses of this magical kingdom, and although I will soon be on a plane out, I know my heart will never leave.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p335
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 08, 2014, 07:18:29 AM
Complications arose quickly in Manaus as the political situation in Venezuela deteriorated and, according to local reports, was headed for civil war. Several warnings from the FBI via email convinced me to fly out of Brazil directly into Panama. Problems of lengthy red-tape delays and a 2,700 dollar cost to ship a broken-down, 3,000 dollar bike didn't make sense. With a tremendous amount or clever footwork by Whitney Parsons from the Aspen Silver Company, my limping KLR was transformed into a bright yellow BMW F650GS in Panama City.
Even better, Brad flew in on time with his motorcycle so the two of us could ride back to California together. Although we had communicated only by email for the last seven months, we were finally ready. When we met in the Panama City airport, I squeezed him so hard I nearly broke his neck. He is the reinforcement I needed. The cavalry arrived just in time.
Two Wheels Through Terror  Glen Heggstad  p339
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 09, 2014, 12:40:15 PM
“Sons Of Thunder” is a selection of a few pages from some of the editor, Neil Bradford’s favourite writers.

Lawrence's relationship with his motorcycles was intense and the machine was the exhilarating means of escape from the constrictions of the army camp:
When my mood gets too hot and I find myself wandering beyond control I pull out my motor-bike and hurl it top speed through these unfit roads for hour after hour.
This feeling of release and exhilaration is one shared by all who have reached for the crash helmet, swept up the keys and opened the front door. The environment, climate and character of the road are all absorbed by the rider who makes corresponding physical adjustments to deal with the demands of every journey, whatever the length. This sensation is unique to the motorcyclist.
Sons Of Thunder p14  Neil Bradford
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 10, 2014, 09:04:52 AM
The modern motorcycle is a sophisticated construction with little in the way of roughly hewn edges such as the kick-starter, an inducement to injury and post-traumatic stress disorder, so well described by Matthew Crawford elsewhere in his book:
Before taking that final kick, it is traditional to light a cigarette and set it dangling at an angle that suggests nonchalance. While you're at it, send up a little prayer for fuel atomization. You wouldn't be riding a motorcycle if you weren't an optimist.
Sons Of Thunder p14-5  Neil Bradford
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 11, 2014, 08:44:54 AM
Out in the early-morning street there is little traffic, for which the rider sends up thanks: on a bike, cars are irksome, their slow-motion ways infuriating. Pulling out of the drive, the rider shifts into second, this time with the boot toe under the lever to push it up. The small jolt of increased speed from rear wheel is experienced in the seat, just as in the elastic pause when a horse gathers strength in its haunches before springing into a canter from the trot.
Sons Of Thunder p21  Melissa Pierson
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 12, 2014, 08:53:10 AM
When things conspire - the traffic is thick and wild, the sun is leaving moment for moment, rain slicks the surface of the road - the rider best understands what can otherwise remain hidden: that a motorcyclist is both the happy passenger on an amusement park ride and its earnest operator. The rider  splits into two, navigating between vacation and dire responsibility.
Sons Of Thunder p24  Melissa Pierson
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 14, 2014, 11:34:18 AM
The burble of my exhaust unwound like a long cord behind me. Soon my speed snapped it, and I heard only the cry of the wind which my battering head split and fended aside. The cry rose with my speed to a shriek: while the air's coldness streamed like two jets of iced water into my dissolving eyes. I screwed them to slits, and focused my sight two hundred yards ahead of me on the empty mosaic of the tar's gravelled undulations.
Like arrows the tiny flies pricked my cheeks: and sometimes a heavier body, some house-fly or beetle, would crash into face or lips like a spent bullet. A glance at the speedometer: seventy-eight. Boanerges is warming up. I pull the throttle right open, the top of the slope, and we swoop flying across the dip, and up-down up-down the switchback beyond: the weighty machine launching itself like a projectile with a whirr of wheels into the air at the take-off of each rise, to land lurchingly with such a snatch of the driving chain as jerks my spine like a rictus.
Sons Of Thunder p30  T. E. Lawrence
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 15, 2014, 05:17:59 PM
Traffic this morning was mainly Morris Oxfords, doing their thirty up or down. Boa and myself were pioneers of the new order, which will do seventy or more between point and point. Like all pioneers we incurred odium. The Morris Oxfords were calculating on other traffic doing their own staid forty feet a second. Boa was doing 120. While they were thinking about swinging off the crown of the road to let him pass, he had leaped past them, a rattle and roar and glitter of polished nickel, with a blue button on top. They waved their arms wildly, or their sticks, in protest. Boa was round the next corner, or over the next-hill-but-two while they were spluttering. Never has Boa gone better. I kept on patting him, and opening his throttle, knowing all the while that in a month or two he will be someone else's, and myself in a land without roads or speed. If I were rich he should have a warm dry garage, and no work in his old age. An almost human machine, he is, a real prolongation of my own faculties: and so handsome and efficient. Never have I had anything like him.
Sons Of Thunder p35-6  T. E. Lawrence
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 16, 2014, 12:58:47 PM
I had bought my motorbike soon after I was sixteen. It was a second-hand Ariel 500cc and it cost me twenty-two pounds. It was a wonderful big powerful machine and when I rode upon it, it gave me an amazing feeling of winged majesty and of independence that I had never known before. Wherever I wished to go, my mighty Ariel would take me. Up to then, I had either had to walk or bicycle or buy a ticket for a bus or a train and was a slow business. But now all I had to do was sling one leg over the saddle, kick the starter and away I went. I got the same feeling a few years later when I flew single-seater fighter planes in the war.
Sons Of Thunder p41  Roald Dahl
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 17, 2014, 01:22:38 PM
With my clarinet strapped behind me I got almost to Rochester to encounter the tail of what proved to be a six-mile queue. As carefully as one does in such circumstances, I rode past it all - and was dismayed by the anger and hostility of all those stationary motorists, blaring their horns or even waving fists at me. There was no way in which I could have been harming them, but the thought that I was going and they were not aroused furious jealousy. Even on a good motorcycle, the world can be a sad place.
Sons Of Thunder p52  L. J. K. Setright
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 18, 2014, 09:24:57 AM
Down the Hoggar Massif, descending 1,000ft, skimming over sand dunes like surfing sea waves, we grappled drifts with high revs in low gear. It was like tackling hazards in a club trials event. Chiding each other several times about intentionally picking out every rock and rift and nearly having us both fall off, we kept rolling along. We fell about three feet over an unseen rim that put a strain on every nut and bolt. Bienk on the 'Moseley' rear mudguard pillion seat, came down just right to hold on to something, saving herself from being dumped. Dark patches of hard mineral ground were showing up through the sand here and there and between them were these treacherous hollows of powder-like sand. We pounced from one hard patch to another to skim across these sand-traps until they became longer, deeper and softer and eventually trapped our wheels. Everything was unloaded again, carried across and then the unladen combination coaxed through these dangerous sink holes, while we sung the oarsman's chant, 'One - two - PUSH!'
Sons Of Thunder p73  Theresa Wallach
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: hondabob on November 18, 2014, 07:35:04 PM
 :dred11
as a motorcyclist why don't the blue heelers understand :law - ---what are double white lines!?? just painted white lines on the road of life! no ticket required:-)) :thumbs
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 19, 2014, 09:44:07 AM
As we rounded a bend we ran into a drove of oxen, and I heard Ernesto call out in a slightly shaky voice, “The brake's gone!”
We were going downhill and we could see that the slope ended in a row of poplars some 400 yards ahead. The bike was still picking up speed, but in fact I felt no fear. Looking back on it now, knowing that a river ran behind the poplars, I reckon this could have been the end of the line for us. At the very least we might have broken a few bones. But all I did was tell Fuser to brake using the gears and run the bike into the hill.
With a degree of confidence quite unwarranted in an inexperienced driver, Ernesto got the bike into third, then into second, which reduced our speed considerably, and finally, with difficulty, he got it into first. At once, taking advantage of our slower speed, he aimed the bike straight at the bank. As I jumped off the back he spread his legs, and I saw him come off the seat just a fraction of a second before the front wheel hit the mountain. We ran to switch off the engine to prevent a fire, and then shook hands, happy still to be alive.
Sons Of Thunder p81-2  Alberto Granado
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: hondabob on November 19, 2014, 10:05:37 AM
 :dred11 too much dribbble biggles - short nd sweet is the go ;-*
in the words of a famous 60's singer song writer -- - -i don't want a pickle--just wanna ride ma moda cycle & i  don't wanna die --just wanna ride ma moda cy -cle!!!! anyone know who it was?? :think1 :-++ my theme song every time i twist the go gas :clap :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 19, 2014, 10:56:27 AM
  anyone know who it was?? :think1 :-++ my theme song every time i twist the go gas :clap :thumbsup

Woody Guthrie.

Just don't click on the Quote Of The Day and let those who enjoy a bit of biking literature enjoy it.
Not everyone wants the simplest possible text.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on November 19, 2014, 11:21:31 AM
With 48 pages of stuff, Biggles must be doing something right....


Oh no, I just went on Biggles side.... must need a holiday
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 20, 2014, 08:58:31 AM
There are moments on a motorcycle when all the glory of motion is distilled into one purposeful package. Chasing curves over a swelling landscape, a motorcycle enters the pure expression of physics and is bound to the road in a way no car will ever know. The rider and machine are literally balanced on the infinitely thin line where centripetal forces meet gravity. Despite this state of suspended disaster, the sensation of risk is largely a sensation; the motorcycle is in harmony with the road, and risk comes overwhelmingly from other drivers. Any moment of travel on a motorcycle is a light and essential moment, an agile rebuke to a life conducted in one place. The raw force of the engine is not hidden beneath a hood, but alternately purrs and growls a few inches from the knees, demanding consciousness of power. Sealed behind glass, insulated climate control systems and music, the driver of a car knows nothing about the directions of the wind, the lay of sunlight, the small changes in temperature between a peak and a valley, the textured noise of differing asphalts, or the sweet and sour aromas of manured fields or passing pine forests. Engaged in all the senses and elements, balanced in the present tense, a rider on two wheels can taste moments of oneness with the road.
Sons Of Thunder p91  Patrick Symmes
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 21, 2014, 09:29:57 AM
Driving out the peninsula, the wind knocked me over twice more, sending me into knee-scraping mounds of pebbles. When the bike blew over the second time the windshield cracked. Gasoline leaked from the carburettors again; I watched the liquid evaporate from the stones in horror, quickly righting the bike each time but losing several pints that I could not afford to lose. Yesterday's trip to the north shore suddenly seemed a foolish waste of fuel. I hit the reserve tank with an hour still to go. Somehow I made it to the steep ridge of hills at the neck of the peninsula, but the motor began to cough and hesitate on the way up the last hill. I threw the petcock from Res. back to Auf and got one last burst of power that pushed me up to the crest : a wobbly five miles an hour. It was two paved miles from there to the gas station, but all downhill, and I eventually coasted into the little settlement of Puerto Piramides like some pathetic bicyclist. I mailed a postcard to my girlfriend and bought a vanilla milk shade and a full tank of gas, and then sat on a chair on the beach drinking the milk shake, watching the tide surge right past the No Parking signs, up and over the legs of the chair, and while I sipped my milk shake the water ran forth and back beneath me, chilling the aluminium. I said over and over to no one in particular that this was a very fine town indeed. Six days,
and already I was talking to myself.
Sons Of Thunder p99  Patrick Symmes
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 22, 2014, 08:59:09 AM
You could try to go coast to coast, but chances were you wouldn't make it, some vertical guys with pitchforks and shotguns living in Hicksville were bound to resent your freedom and try and drag you down. Let's face it, there is definitely an element of death-wish built into the motorbike. You have to enjoy the pain and the heartache. Better to go out with a bang than a phut.
Even though Alberto and Che and a whole generation of easy riders have gone up in exhaust smoke, the mystique of the long-distance biker lives on. A true nomad and wanderer on that endless ride into the sun, weaving in and out of lanes of gridlocked cars like a Brazilian winger going round plodding fullbacks. Two wheels good, four wheels bad.
Sons Of Thunder p104-5  Andy Martin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 23, 2014, 11:22:13 AM
The Grand Trunk Road again broadened out into a four-lane highway and we were going flat out just to keep pace with the local taxis and mini-buses - the Pathans seemingly even more addicted to speed than their Punjabi brethren. Then, beyond the garrison town of Nowshera, we ran into a series of road-works.
Even on this unmade surface the faster traffic, private cars and pick-ups converted into taxis, kept overtaking and cutting in at the last minute. I was trying to keep up with the pace, jockeying for position, when the road-works suddenly stopped and we bumped through a succession of muddy potholes and back onto a metalled surface.
 I accelerated to get clear of the pack but there was no traction whatsoever between the rear tyre and the road. Instead of speeding up, the bike started to roll from side to side. I struggled to correct the steering, but the back end was swinging around, completely out of control. The next thing I knew the bike was on its side and my head was skidding along the tarmac. Somehow my helmet had got wedged between the handlebars and the road surface.
Sons Of Thunder p136 Jonathan Gregson
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 24, 2014, 07:58:27 AM
We were splayed out across the middle of the Grand Trunk Road. All I could think about was the line of trucks coming up behind us, ready to crush us beneath their huge tyres.
'Get out of here,' I shouted to Sarah, but her leg was trapped beneath the weight of the bike. She was yelling at me, something about a bus coming. With my head pinned to the tarmac I couldn't see much. But she could look backwards and what she saw was a bus bearing down on us.
 We were saved by the driver of a private car who deliberately swerved, placing his vehicle in between us and the heavy traffic The bus' tyres came into my line of vision. I felt the vibration in my bones, waited for the sickening crunch. Nothing came. The bus driver must have swerved to avoid the car, and in doing so he also steered clear of the fallen bike.
Sons Of Thunder p137 Jonathan Gregson
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bloodman on November 24, 2014, 09:20:13 AM
The ONLY time you have too much fuel is when you're on fire !!!
 :blu13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 24, 2014, 09:24:59 AM
The ONLY time you have too much fuel is when you're on fire !!!

usually cited in the context of aviation where fuel weight is critical and therefore sometimes under-supplied.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 25, 2014, 09:00:32 AM
It was only when I removed my own helmet that I realised how lucky I'd been. The chin guard was deeply scoured. If I hadn't been wearing a full-face helmet I'd have lost half my jaw. I reached for a cigarette when the man who'd stopped his car to help us shouted something. Petrol. The bloody stuff had leaked out over the road. I put back my lighter and examined the fuel tank. Strange, nothing seemed to be leaking. Then the car driver pointed down the road. “Benzine,” he shouted.
 The whole surface was covered with an amalgam of mud and diesel fuel. A tanker or lorry must have spilled some of its load coming through the bumpy section before rejoining the asphalt road, which would explain why it had felt like a skating rink when I opened up the throttle.
Sons Of Thunder p137-8  Jonathan Gregson
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 26, 2014, 09:27:04 AM
The road south from Lubango to the border had been almost destroyed by the sixteen years of fighting. What was marked on my map as a smooth-surfaced road had been turned by bombs, landmines and strafing jets into a battleground of rubble and craters. At times even the suggestion of an asphalt surface was gone. A thick layer of mud, pocked with deep pot-holes, was all that remained of the only route south. It was agonizingly slow work weaving around the craters, like trying to stay on the ridges of a honeycomb. At times I missed the line completely, plunging myself into ankle-deep water, and once I was thrown off-balance by a particularly large hole and forced off the road down a steep bank to a boggy marsh below. I held my breath while I scrambled the bike back up to the track.
“Oh ja, there's still plenty of active mines out there,” Rolf, one of the Afrikaner truck drivers I'd seen coming from Namibe, had happily informed me in a restaurant the previous evening, “so be sure to stick to the tracks. Only three days ago I saw a cow get it. Blew the feckin' thing sky high.” He had laughed maniacally at the memory and slapped his hand on the frail table. He told me the drivers had christened it Desolation Road.
Sons Of Thunder p147  Jonny Bealby
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 27, 2014, 09:44:21 AM
Eventually I saw it: a road sign marked CA-1. Oh joy! Thank you, thank you, God of Motorcycling, get me out of this labyrinth of grot! But relief soon gave way to dread when felt a strange sense of deja vu creeping up on me. Hadn't I passed that building with the fountains before? And that gas station looks awfully familiar... but weren't they on the other side of the road last time I saw them? My sense of direction had become so utterly addled that although I was indeed heading out of the city on the CA-1, it was back the way I’d come in. Now I had to start the nightmare all over again! I pulled into the petrol station and looked up the word for 'lost' in my dictionary, completely frazzled by my geographical disorder.
 “Zona 1, very dangerous, do not go there,” warned the gas station attendant, in response to my plea for directions.
“Yes,” I replied wearily, “I've just spent an hour riding around there, now please, can you tell me- "
“Six people killed every day in Guatemala City,” he interrupted in earnest tones.
“Yes, yes, jolly good,” I said impatiently, “but I'm actually looking to get out of here- "
“They stop you, they want money, and bang bang!” he said, imitating a gun held up against his head.
 “Yeah, I can believe it!” I replied.
 The shelves of the little shop were crammed with bottles of oil, exhaust repair bandage and lots of other bits and bobs for the Guatemalan boy racer. But there was a distinct lack of maps. Yet another idea, along with road signs and ring roads, that hadn't caught on in this neck of the woods.
Sons Of Thunder p163-4 Lois Pryce
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 28, 2014, 08:54:33 AM
I strolled back to the bike and sat astride it for a while, smoking, thinking, feeling a bit dislocated. The guy who looked after the car park walked over and said hello. He'd been admiring my bike, he said, rode one himself, and told me how he dreamed of hitting the road one day.
 His name was Marc. He'd signed up for the Romanian secret service after leaving college “thinking I'd be tracking people down on my motorbike”, but he'd been put in an office in a suit where he typed up reports all day until he could stand it no longer and quit. Now he was looking after this car park until something came up and he could afford to take his road trip.
“But with the money I earn here, maybe this is something I never get to do,” he said, and held his shoulders in a shrug and turned his palms towards the sky. “But I dream about it all the time. You are living my dreams. You are a very lucky man.”
Sons Of Thunder p169-70  Mike Carter
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 29, 2014, 08:44:40 AM
It had begun to rain again, with the odd low growl of thunder thrown in for the requisite Transylvanian ambience. Just as I was about to pull over and make camp, the forest ended and I emerged somewhere in the sixteenth century.
 The main street of the Roma village - just hardened clay really, turning swiftly to mud - was full of horses, and oxen, pulling carts piled high with straw, the drivers in pork pie hats, ancient bolt-action rifles slung over their shoulders.
Wizened old Roma women in headscarves carried their grandchildren on their backs in slings fashioned from rugs. There was a hand pump in the street from which villagers were drawing water. People sat out on their steps to watch this strange creature pass, and scruffy, shoeless urchins chased after me.
I felt a tad vulnerable, uncomfortable. Five years earlier, I had been in Romania's most cosmopolitan city imagining I was in mortal danger. Now I was in the middle of the forest, in the middle of nowhere and darkness closing in, and I was drawing a crowd, many of whom were armed. It's not easy to be inconspicuous riding a 1200cc motorcycle through a Brueghel painting.
Sons Of Thunder p170-1 Mike Carter
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 30, 2014, 12:03:02 PM
Before I knew what was happening, a succession of small boys were carrying my luggage into the room. Shortly after, the entire village came round to see the stranger. There was lots of giggling and nudging and I poured my vodka into small glass tumblers and chipped mugs and then I cut my sausage into slices with my Leatherman and offered it around.
But they weren't too keen on the sausage and instead the woman of the house produced a steaming tureen of sour soup with pork and beans, and we slurped it and ate heavy, dark bread, and drank more vodka. They spoke Romanian and I spoke English and we seemed to get along just fine. Vodka makes polyglots of us all.
I went through my guidebook's conversations and essentials section and tried to ask my host in Romanian what his name was, but I don't think I pronounced it correctly as he kept pointing to his hat.
Sons Of Thunder p171-2 Mike Carter
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 01, 2014, 08:26:18 AM
The greatest hazard was still the horse-drawn carts that outnumbered cars in the villages. Weirdly, Romanian geese that, unlike any other geese I'd encountered on the trip, seemed to have a personal issue with the engine pitch of a BMW R1200GS.
 Some distance off I'd spot them pricking up their ears, or whatever it is that geese prick up, and start to spread their wings an avian version of “you wanna piece of me, huh?” By the time I drew alongside them, they would be in a right old flap, squawking and hissing and chasing me down the road. Once at a safe distance, I would pull over and watch other people on motorbikes pass by. Not a peep. Bizarre.
Sons Of Thunder p173  Mike Carter
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 02, 2014, 08:30:15 AM
I approached a bend. Fast. I couldn't see the exit. It was tight, and as I leaned into it, it got tighter and tighter. I couldn't touch the brakes. On a road like this, with loose shale on the surface, and potholes everywhere, it could have been fatal, my wheels falling away from under me. This is one of the most common causes of death on a motorbike: misjudging your speed coming into a bend.
I started to drift across the road, unable to keep in my lane. The bend showed no signs of opening up, smoothing out. On the far side of the road were spruce trees. I looked at them. There was one in particular, thicker than the rest. I stared at it. The bike started to straighten, move upright. I headed for the tree. I went to hit the brakes. I was going to crash, no doubt, but any reduction in speed might make all the difference. The whole thing had taken perhaps less than a couple of seconds, but somehow time was stretched.
 I remembered Kevin's words. Have faith. Look where you want to go. The bike will follow. It has to.
I ripped my eyes from the spruce tree. It was an act of will. And I turned my head to look at the bend once more. The bike dipped again, leaned in. I think I left the road at one stage, crossing the line on the far side, riding over needles and cones, trees flashing past. But I couldn't be sure, because all I was looking at was the road ahead, the bend opening up, my right hand twisting back the throttle, me whooping like a lunatic.
Sons Of Thunder p176  Mike Carter
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 03, 2014, 10:43:19 AM
“The fine will be eight million lei,” the police officer was saying to me.
“But that's... that's about 200 euros,” I replied, which a quick calculation told me was roughly the average Romanian wage for a month. I could feel my bottom lip trembling.
“You should not go so fast. This road very dangerous,” he said.
“I'm sorry.”
“No good. You under arrest. You get in car and we go to bank.” I felt like the victim of a cashpoint mugging.
He ordered me to leave my bike by the side of the road and get into the passenger seat of the police car. Then we drove away heading for God knows where. After about 10 minutes, down a quiet country lane, the officer pulled over into a lay-by. Unless there was an ATM in one of the adjacent oak trees, which I was pretty certain there was not, I was guessing that this wasn't the end of the journey.
The officer switched off the ignition, slowly, deliberately, and turned to me, his gun nestling against his thigh.
“Okay. For you, for lei cash, there is 20 per cent discount,” he said.
“Discount?”
“Yes. Consider it gesture of goodwill from the kind Romanian people.”
As he was talking, he was fishing around in his wallet. He pulled out photographs. My prejudices started to resurface. I imagined they might be of bloodstained cells, or show corpses lying face down besides a lay-by, this lay-by.
“This my sister, she live London,” he said, showing me a picture of a smiling woman toasting the camera with a large glass of red wine.
“You married?”
“No.”
“I give you her address. She is very nice. Make good wife.”
“I’m not looking for a wife,” I said to him.
“You no like my sister?” he said.
“It's not that, it's...”
“How about this one?” He'd pulled another picture out. “She live Coventry.”
“She seems very nice, too... Look, I'm flattered you think I might be good enough for your sisters, but I'm not interested!”
 “Thirty percent.”
“What?”
“Discount. Thirty per cent, as goodwill and because you think sisters very nice.”
I laughed.
“What would the discount be if I married one of your sisters?” I said.
The policeman suddenly looked at me solemnly, gravely.
“Mister. You try bribe Romanian police officer? Is very serious offence.”
Sons Of Thunder p177-8  Mike Carter
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 04, 2014, 08:25:57 AM
When Cycle World called me to ask if I would road-test the new Harley Road King, I got uppity and said I'd rather have a Ducati superbike. It seemed like a chic decision at the time, and my friends on the superbike circuit got very excited. “Hot damn,” they said. “We will take it to the track and blow the bastards away.”
“Balls,” I said. “Never mind the track. The track is for punks. We are Road People. We are Cafe Racers.”
The Cafe Racer is a different breed, and we have our own situations. Pure speed in sixth gear on a 5,000-foot straightaway one thing, but pure speed in third gear on a gravel-strewn downhill ess-turn is quite another.
But we like it. A thoroughbred Cafe Racer will ride all night through a fog storm in freeway traffic to put himself into what somebody told him was the ugliest and tightest diminishing-radius loop turn since Genghis Khan invented the corkscrew.
Cafe Racing is mainly a matter of taste. It is an atavistic mentality, a peculiar mix or low style, high speed, pure dumbness, and overweening commitment to the Cafe Life and all its dangerous pleasures... I am a Cafe Racer myself, on some days - and it is one of my finest addictions.
Sons Of Thunder p183-4 Hunter S. Thompson
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 05, 2014, 08:55:14 AM
The Ducati 900 is a finely engineered machine. We all love Torque, and some of us have taken it straight over the high side from time to time - and there is always pain in that... But there is also Fun, the deadly element, and Fun is what you get when you screw this monster on. BOOM! Instant take-off, no screeching or squawking around like a fool with your teeth clamping down on your tongue and your mind completely empty of everything but fear. No. This bugger digs right in and shoots you straight down the pipe, for good or ill
On my first take-off, I hit second gear and went through the speed limit on a two-lane blacktop highway full of ranch traffic. By the time I went up to third, I was going 75 and the tach was barely above 4,000 rpm...
And that's when it got its second wind. From 4,000 to 6,000 in third will take you from 75 mph to 95 in two seconds - and after that, Bubba, you still have fourth, fifth, and sixth. Ho, ho.
Sons Of Thunder p187  Hunter S. Thompson
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 06, 2014, 02:48:47 PM
No one told me to retard the spark. True enough, it was in the manual, but I had been unable to read that attentively. It had no plot, no characters. So my punishment was this: when I jumped on the kick starter, it backfired and more or less threw me off the bike. I was limping all through the first week from vicious blowbacks. I later learned it was a classic way to get a spiral fracture. I tried jumping lightly on the kick starter and, unfairly, it would blast back as viciously as with a sharp kick. Eventually it started, and sitting on it, I felt the torque tilt the bike under me. I was afraid to take my hands off the handlebars. My wife lowered the helmet onto my head; I compared it to the barber's basin Don Quixote had worn into battle, the Helmet of Mambrino.
Sons Of Thunder p201 Thomas McGuane
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 07, 2014, 12:17:01 PM
You might think that one motorcycle is much like another and they are all equally soulless, dangerous, thrilling. I'm not so sure. A biker would tell you that the motorcycle is the nearest humanity has come to imbuing an artefact with character and soul. A car is simply an envelope in which you are posted more or less efficiently from one place to another (albeit with the usual vagaries attendant on the mail services). With a motorcycle, the biker would argue, you attempt to harmonise, establish some sense of balance and rhythm, even mutual understanding. At this point I want to make clear just how apposite is that terse epithet bestowed upon every two-wheeled product of the Harley- Davidson factory in Milwaukee. A Hog is a Hog is a Hog. In certain situations - on a die-straight desert highway for example, or posing at an agricultural show or stationary at a gas pump, which is its version of the feeding trough - it is perfectly capable of behaving itself and concentrating on the matter in hand. But show a 1340cc Electra-Glide Classic full-dresser in glitter-fleck metallic crimson 200 miles of narrow, twisting mountain road with a loose surface, roadworks, instant 180-degree hairpins, radical gradients, ruts and gullies and it transforms into some jittery, darting, groaning monstrous thing with which you wrestle and fight, and the harmonies of those desert highways on which your relationship was founded become a distant dream.
Sons Of Thunder p223-4  Jim Perrin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Philbo on December 07, 2014, 01:05:09 PM
In the 1980's I was a member of the Gold Coast Motorcycle Enthusiasts Club.  The old guys had a saying, especially when a young guy was showing off on his bike:  "There are old riders and there are bold riders, but there are no old bold riders."
You have probably heard this one, but I reckon it is good advice (I am now an old rider)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 08, 2014, 08:22:07 AM
“How d'you like the bike, son?” he growled.
At that precise moment I didn't like the bike at all, and the feeling was probably mutual. But this was American soil, the Stars & Stripes was flying, and I was being asked about the other great American icon. Sometimes you just get put on the spot:
“Well...  (long pause, not for emphasis)... it’s got character... the, er, saddle's very comfortable, I like the riding position, and the way the sound system volume turns up when you twist the throttle's... amusing. And I love the exhaust note...
“Yeah, yeah - offset crank - atmosphere at the expense of performance...” he responded, a little impatiently.
I’d dried up. He was watching me. 'What the hell?' I thought, and launched in:
“O.K. It's got performance half of what that engine size should offer, handles like a tank, steers like a wasp in a jam jar, push it hard on bends and neither you nor it knows where it's going, feed in the gas and it gets the message five minutes later, the gears are borrowed off a tractor…”
“Hold it right there!”
He held up his hand, reached in his pocket, handed me his card:

C. William Gray
Vice-President
Harley-Davidson Motor Company

“That's me, and you and I are having dinner together tonight to go through this thing in detail. You European riders are just aggressive. Chill out, man. Get in the hot tub. See ya later.”
Extracting a foot from my mouth, I hobbled away at his command.
Sons Of Thunder p225-6  Jim Perrin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on December 08, 2014, 05:22:48 PM
 :rofl
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 09, 2014, 10:48:40 AM
I even talk to my bike. 'Come on, little hmar, don't fail me now!' was the superstitious battle cry that led Germans and Tuaregs alike to turn away, slightly embarrassed, tapping sides of their heads. Divvy as it sounds, it's even got a name - the Yamahmar, 'hmar' being the Arabic word for donkey. The parallels are obvious - both much-maligned beasts of burden, overloaded and abused by cruel owners. And I like donkeys 'cause they invariably wink when I say hello.
Yep, I love my bike. Which is good, because it's all I've got left. 'Dear John,' said Lou as she made a laughing-stock April Fool of me. Home no longer exists. So I'm packing my bags again, and hitting the road again, whistling 'Hey Joe' while pushing hard for motorcycle emptiness.
Sons Of Thunder p237  Dan Walsh
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 10, 2014, 09:08:37 AM
Honda-san, and later Mr Suzuki and others, knew full well that Norton, Triumph, MV Agusta and a dozen other factories had built their brand image at the TT, making millions by testing their engineering prowess against the gruelling Manx roads, proving that their machinery was both rapid and rugged. It was motorcycling's ultimate exercise in corporate PR.
And yet the event had the genteel air of an English village fete about it, with the discordant twist of death and destruction lurking in the shadows. The TT was run by old boys in blazers and enthusiastic ladies who might otherwise have invested their energies in the Women's Institute, They talked about the Island's capricious weather like they were getting ready for a spot of gardening, apparently unaware that fog and rain usually meant more accidents, more broken legs, more fatalities. Tradition mattered on the Island, so practice went ahead whatever the conditions. As the chaps in blazers would say: 'No such thing as inclement weather, old boy, only inappropriate clothing.'
Sons Of Thunder p242-3  Mat Oxley
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 11, 2014, 09:20:53 AM
That long left turn where I made two of the overtaking moves I enjoyed the most in my entire career, is probably the most exciting stretch of a fantastic track that will forever be close to my heart. At Philip Island, there is the long initial straightaway, and following that you reach the ocean after a series of turns - some wide, some tight, with changes in speed and elevation. You reach the ocean and then you leave it behind, twice, before joining a long ramp which takes you straight up to the famous long left turn. But just before that, there is a very fast chicane: you arrive in fourth gear, at 200kph, go down to third gear and 170kph to negotiate the right-left change in direction and, finally, you take on that long uphill curve. On that long turn, you spend what seems like an eternity bent over, flying along at very high speeds, unable to see what's ahead. It is one of the most beautiful, fastest and difficult turns in the whole MotoGP tour. You have to be extremely accurate and sensitive to negotiate your way through it, and it's one of those spots where the quality of the rider makes all the difference. Just as, to me, it makes all the difference if it's the last lap or not.
Sons Of Thunder p257-8  Valentino Rossi
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 12, 2014, 08:34:15 AM
Instead of insulating its owner like a car, a bike extends him into the environment, all senses alert. Everything that happens on the road and in the air, the inflections of road surface, the shuttle and weave of traffic, the opening and squeezing of space, the cold and heat, the stinks, perfumes, noises and silences the biker flows into it in a state of heightened consciousness that no driver, with his windows and heater and radio, will ever know. It is this total experience, not the fustian cliches about symbolic penises and deficient father figures that every amateur Freudian trots out when motorcycles are mentioned, that creates bikers. Riding across San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge on his motorcycle, the biker is sensually receptive to every yard of the way: to the bridge drumming under the tires, to the immense Pacific wind, to the cliff of icy blue space below.
“Se tu sarai solo,” Leonardo da Vinci remarked five hundred years ago, “tu sarai tutto tuo” (If you are alone, you are your own man). Biking, like gliding, is one of the most delightful expressions of this fact. There is nothing second-hand or vicarious about the sense of freedom, which means possessing one’s own and unique experiences, that a big bike well ridden confers. Antisocial? Indeed, yes. And being so, a means to sanity. The motorcycle is a charm against the Group Man.
Sons Of Thunder p266  Robert Hughes
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 13, 2014, 08:43:12 AM
I needn't have worried - the police roadblocks have simply moved the travelling salesmen to the other side of the mountain, and as soon as I left Ketama, it began - a car in the mirrors, lights flashing, horn blaring, closer and closer until it was alongside, swerving violently as its mirror-shaded driver waved a brick of hash, shouting, 'Very best quality, come see my house.'
 Apart from the slight embarrassment of being unable to outrun a 25-year-old Renault 9, it was quite a laugh - a proper car chase. After a mile or so he gave up and passed the spliff baton to a 4x4, parked across the road ahead. As Ken said, hit the dirt, so I foot-down-wobbled past, onto the next. And the next. And the next. To be honest, it all got a bit much. After an hour of this nonsense, I'd gone from excitement to anger to jaded weariness - there's only so many car chases a man can take - even the Dukes of Hazzard had the occasional break from the action to splash around in the creek with Daisy.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p14
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 14, 2014, 11:18:10 AM
I was heading for Erfoud and the ironically named Hotel Majestic, a grubby little gaff notable only for the nosiness of its patron. He started slowly, leafing through my passport, graduated to watching me unpack and for the finale picked up a postcard I was in the middle of writing, examined the front and then started reading on the back in a Stavros accent, 'Hello Mum and Dad, how are you ?'
But people don't come to Erfoud for the hospitality, they come for the Erg Chebbi, Morocco's only section of rolling dunes. So the next morning I dumped the luggage, kinda guessing that within ten minutes of my departure the patron would be running round the lobby with my pants on his head, shouting, 'Look! Now I am the Eengleesh man!', and took the surprisingly perky XT on the 36 km trek to the sand, dreaming crusty-demons-of-dirt fantasies in my motocross helmet.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p15
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: toddie2 on December 14, 2014, 01:36:48 PM
The best time of your life is the 3 seconds between you and the vehicle in front.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 15, 2014, 08:30:36 AM
Once officially official, the next thing to do was to change the tyres, or more accurately, find someone else to change them for me. The XTs OE Dunlop Trailmaxes had squared off, and I was desperate to change into the Pirelli MT21s, mainly so I wouldn't have to carry the bloody things any further. Fortunately, I bumped into a Moroccan kid on a battered Cagiva motocrosser. Yes, he knew a local shop, yes, he'd take me there, but he's just on his way home for dinner, and would I like to join him?
So we had a pleasant hour in his apartment with his wife and extended family, and filled up with food and hospitality. We found the mechanic, who fitted and balanced the tyres, hosed clean the air filter and adjusted the chain (yes, all right, I know), all for a fiver. And when we were finished, the three of us went off together for coffee. Motorcycle City? Bite me.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 16, 2014, 09:10:39 AM
Once again it was me, the XT and Africa. On my right, the sparkling Atlantic, roaring to and fro; to the left, the desert, textbook Technicolor cathedral dunes crashing down into the water. And beneath me, the engine thumping and the knobblies strumming over fresh, wet, hard-packed beach. Forget everything else I've ever done, from riding a Harley through Vegas to blasting a Busa down the autobahns, this was the reason I learned to ride a bike. A real right-here-right-now moment.
And this shit goes on for 100 miles, which at 45 mph is more than two hours of slithering over slippery rocks, inadvertently jumping dunes, scattering angry gangs of seagulls, alternately axle-deep in sand or knee-high in the surf, past more shipwrecks and ramshackle fishing villages, until finally arriving at Nouakchott and tarmac and a hotel. And over a table of cold Chinese beers and fresh African fish we toasted the desert for letting us pass and tried to work out exactly how we'd just crossed the Sahara.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p25-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 17, 2014, 11:45:20 AM
Desperate, starving, and still broke, I explain to the manager that I need a room, a meal and a beer, but I'm carrying sterling. The hotel's full, but he'll find a staff room. The restaurant's shut, but he'll cook me a chop. The bar's dry, but he'll send boy and a bike. The bank's gone, but his brother has a bureau change. All he needs now is my passport as a deposit. I know what's coming, but I need to eat, drink, sleep. And when he announces next morning with a crocodile smile that the room rate's doubled and the exchange rates halved, I surprise him with a grin.
Four days late, I hit capital Conakry and an ATM. Funny how a little money makes everything alright. A bike cop stops and I'm ready for his “donnez moi un cadeau” tale of woe. Then thrown when he leads me to a hotel, negotiates a better room rate, lets me park up in the police compound. and in the morning, we will meet and I will buy you breakfast'.
Yeah, we'll see.
Next morning he buys me breakfast, leads me to my cleaned bike, and palms me a handwritten letter of safe passage. When he asks me why look like I'm gonna cry, I tell him I've been having a few problems with corruption. He looks genuinely sad. Apologises. And reminds me that people are especially tense because the country is at war.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p34-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 18, 2014, 09:56:20 AM
Out of the blue, Mike announces he's actually a motorcycle mechanic, and after ten minutes of grunting, knuckle skinning and double-Dutch cursing, he emerges from under the tank.
'I think maybe the problem is here.'
Damn, an octopus - how the hell did that get in there?
'No, Dan, it's not an octopus, it's a carburettor. This is where the petrol goes.' Stupid Dutchman. Petrol goes in the tank - everyone knows that. But just to humour him, I stripped the so-called 'carburettor, cleaned out the sand that was snagging the vacuum and, guess what?, good as new.
And what do you think caused the problem, Mike?
'Because your air filter is so dirty you could clean it with dog shit, maybe?
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p44
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 19, 2014, 09:17:40 AM
Couple of hours earlier I'd goophered my left leg footing down at fifty when the front blew out. Miles away on a Burkinan highway, thinking about nothing but TL1000 flat-trackers, Scott Walker and am I in top?' when, whoopapa!, the front sinks, folding like dough and I'm slaloming left to right, riding the rim into a busy, jumbled too-long half-minute.  'Please bike, don't fall over.' 'Damn that tarmac looks sore.' 'Why am I wearing slacks rather than armour?' 'Has the bus behind me realised what's going on?'
 By the time I'd patched the hole, my foot had swelled too big for my boot. Which is why I ended up hitting the border wearing one Tech 6 and one flip-flop, squealing like a pig with Tourette's at each and every jarring movement. No wonder the Burkinan officials shooed me through so quickly. I made it as far as the barrier, lost my balance, the leg buckled and I entered Ghana horizontal and dusted.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 20, 2014, 09:35:56 AM
The Grand Opening - me, the Swiss kids, Steve and a customs officer with a set of bolt cutters. It's a tense moment. Steve's been regaling us with horror stories - skippers jettisoning containers in high seas, containers arriving upside down, empty or full of illegals. The fear is that the Land Cruiser will have slipped the leash and slid about. We're expecting to see the XT embossed in a crushed Nissan beer can.
Lucky again. The bike's exactly as I left it, nailed down and strapped It starts first time. Damn, I've missed this. It's only been two weeks, but that's long enough to start jonesing for two wheels, filled with that pre-test longing when any bike, every bike, even shit bikes are desirable. I took to hanging round bike parks, cooing at commuters. 'A GT550, you say? Boy, that baby must really fly,’
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p75
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 21, 2014, 12:37:23 PM
I ask if I can take some pictures. 'Does your magazine come out in South Africa?' asks a feral-looking kid with funky dreads and a kung fu tattoo on his neck. Yeah, I think so. 'Then don't take any pictures of the bikes. We don't want the owners coming looking for them.
The Desperado interrupts: 'You can take a picture of me with my bike, but make sure you can see my cannon, huh?’ He opens his jacket and spins round with his gun. All across the bar, people duck, a reverse-rippled Mexican Wave. He laughs. ‘Er, are all the bikes stolen?' The Desperado calls up the table, the gist of which is 'Whose bike is legit?'
No one answers.
The bikes are stolen from white South Africans, the old enemy. There's no guilt. The Apartheid regime funded, trained and armed the bad guys in Mozambique's thirty-year un-civil war. Bad guys who killed at least 100,000 people, mainly civilians, destroyed the railways, burned down hospitals, ran the country into the ground. As in Ghana, grand theft auto is small potatoes.
Last year the Johannesburg cops launched a cross-border operation, snatching and returning snide vehicles. The Mozambican government complained to Mandela and got it stopped - officially 'cause they considered it an illegal intrusion'. 'The real reason,' explains Bruno, was that if the South Africans reclaimed all the stolen cars, buses and scooters, the country would stop. No one would be able to get to work in the morning.'
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p87-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 22, 2014, 01:41:39 PM
Two klicks down the road there's a level-crossing sign. I dunno whether it's live or dead. I slow, the van behind impatiently overtakes, hurries onto the level crossing and gets hit by a very dark, very solid train.
The next bit doesn't make any sense. My eyes aren't expecting to see what they see, my brain doesn't know how to process it. I get off the bike and walk to the ticking, twitching van. The bike light shadows as much as it shows. 'You'll be all right, amigo, I'll get help.' The driver's side has been ripped off. 'Can you move, amigo?5 The driver's right arm's missing. 'Can you hear me, amigo?' The driver's right leg's missing. 'Wait here, I'll get an ambulance.' The right side of his head is missing. 'Are you all right, amigo?' He's very dead.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p92
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 23, 2014, 11:27:11 AM
Try to conjure up an appropriate deity. Papa Legba, Lord Shiva or St Jude. I settle for the Ghost of Future Dan - picture myself up the road with a belly full of food, mouth full of beer, ears full of soap. It works. An old man wobbles past on a bicycle burdened with palm oil. If he can make it, I can. An hour later I shuffle into Inhaminga's oil lamp-lit sandy streets. I find a pensao. The cook's just about to go home. She says she's not killing a chicken at this time of night. The chicken looks relieved and clucks off. Two hours later she returns with a plate of undercooked chips and a bottle of beer that stinks of mutton. I eat and collapse. Kid next door's playing with his radio. Just as I'm about to bang on the wall, he finds 'King of the Road'. I drift off. Ain't got no cigarettes.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p95
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 24, 2014, 10:07:43 AM
Where to park? Bike bay on the left but it's full of scooters and commuters. And a Renault Sprinter. White-van man pulls up, sticks it in reverse and dominoes a Superdream into a CBR into a couple of Piaggios. Third time I've seen that in a week and every time it makes me more uncomfortable about the responsibility of an eight-grand bike.
The XT has brush guards and folding levers - the Fazer's got brittle plastic and vulnerable plumbing. Gives me the willies. Anyway, that bay was too scratty. Parking a flash bike in London means playing the 'Which one would I steal?' game. The idea is never to have the most desirable bike in the bay. Avoid CX500s. Sniff down unlocked RSVs.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p117-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 25, 2014, 03:05:02 PM
First exit, down the ramp, take care on the roundabout 'cause it leads to a builder's yard and is always awash with diesel, under the flyover, filter between the lanes and gas it just as a car noses across from the right. Nowhere to go. Lock front and back. And stall it. Clutch is so light I keep thinking the cable's snapped. Hit the starter, nothing. Tap the gear change to check it's in neutral, pull in the clutch, swing in the side stand, nothing but a quiet relay click. Bugger. On with the hazards, reach for the kick-start. Er, what kick-start? Guess I'm still too used to the XT.
A cop pulls up. 'Problem, mate?' Nah, just a dicky switch. 'That any good? I'm thinking of trading up from the 600.' Er, yeah. But it wheelies everywhere and makes me ride like a twat. 'I've noticed.' He grins and drives away. Inexplicably, the bike fires up. Home in time for tea.  Bounce up the kerb to the pub, lock it to the railings.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p121-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 26, 2014, 08:48:42 AM
Came back, sold the knackered Tenere and bought a CR500 - the nastiest, hardest motocrosser available.
'First time out, I vanned it to a track in Wiltshire. An old boy watched me unload and started laughing - "Evil bastards, those. This will be fun." It took me half an hour to start the sod. First lap, first time I put it in second gear, it spat me off and broke my foot. The old boy couldn't contain himself - "That's the funniest thing I've seen in years." I was like, "Right, good, anyway I'm just off to the hospital." The bike was left in a mate's garage. I never rode it again. I was so scared and ashamed of it that I used to take the long way round to avoid walking past his house.'
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p131
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 27, 2014, 09:54:04 AM
Harley's are officially old. One hundred years old. Happy Birthday, Harley. Or Happy birthday, Davidson. The present president Willie G Davidson is son of co-founder William Davidson, father of Vice President Bill Davidson. Someone should get those Davidson women a book of names for Christmas. 
It's a family affair. Willie and Bill smile for the cameras and unveil the 100th Anniversary, extra-special, all-new, revolutionary, explosive, never before see on a motorcycle, laydees and gennulmen we give you, ta-daaaa - er, a new paint job. And redesigned badges. Sorry, cloisonnes. Only Harley would fly the world's press all the way to Milwaukee admire a new spray job. And only the Harley press would respond excitedly with low-whistles and flash-gun pops. Can't imagine Ducati doing that. But then again, can't imagine Ducati selling sixty percent of the big bike market in the US.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p145
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 28, 2014, 01:18:57 PM
A trucker sits down, arms sleeved in faded road tattoos, sunglasses perched Rommel-style on his mesh cap peak. 'Brother-in-law had one of those Kawa-sarkis.' Don't tell me - broke every bone in his body, wife carries him around in a Thermos, talks through a straw, eats through his bum.  “I guess.”
Peckerwood follows me out. His perfect Peterbilt fills my mirror. There's a poster of a missing child on the side. That's common enough, but it seems like this fella is showing off, not helping out. I decide he's a jinx and give him the slip in a town called Enigma, home to the Mona Lisa, Gregorian trance chants and smiling cats. God throws his 'Rays of Sun through the Clouds' trick. I run over a snake. A butterfly lands in my mouth.
The next town's called Climax. I stop to take a picture of the sign. 'What's so funny about that?' straight-faces the Sheriff. A nine-hour, five hundred-mile day and I'm still in the same state. Georgia on my mind? Georgia tattooed onto my rosy-cheeked arse. I collapse in Donalsonville. When I close my eyes, all I see are black-on-white road signs.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p176-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 29, 2014, 09:02:44 AM
There's even a UFO museum. It's free, but after five minutes I still want my money back. Until a nipper runs past and right into the perfect gag. 'Did those aliens come from Mars?' All together now - No kid, they came from Uranus. I've never been thrown out of a museum before.
Britain has climate, America has weather. I leave Roswell with a greasy sweat on. An hour later, the dazzling desert sunshine turns purple then turns horizontal white. Snow? Snow, and wind, wind so fierce it has the bike slapping like a sail as we dodge car-chasing tumbleweeds the size of scribbled thorny dogs.
I stop for a smoke and a snivel. A cop pulls over. To check I'm OK? Er, no. To throw a cheap gag. 'Know why it's so windy in New Mexico?' Go on. "Cause Texas sucks and Arizona blows.' Right. Thanks.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p184
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 30, 2014, 08:59:28 AM
Stroll back to the bikes, stretch out, one foot on my front tyre to gently rock the hammock, watch the yellow moon sparkle on the waves and drift into dreamy sleep.
Yeah, right. After an eighteen-hour watch in a wind-lashed, salt-stung crow's nest, fending off the amorous advances of a lonely bear from Portsmouth, I'm sure a hammock is heavenly. Otherwise, it's just sleeping in a rope bag. I feel like an old lady's shopping. I try to enjoy it, I try to concentrate on the lullaby wash of the waves, but you can't fake sleep. When dawn hits my cross-hatched, cross-patch face I give up, rub seawater in my eyes, pour coffee up my nose and get back on the off-road.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p194
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 31, 2014, 09:12:59 AM
Until I hit Mexico City. Just as I'm congratulating myself for toasting the crush hour with 'old couriers etc' nonsense, I get pulled. Two smiley cops point to my number plate and say something like 'No circulo' and 'Jueves’ No traffic on Thursday? Bugger. A speed-read, quick-forgotten by-law  to reduce congestion, they've set up a scheme limit traffic based on number plates. No ones or twos on Thursday, no threes or tours on Friday and so on. And it's Thursday. And my number plate ends in a two. And bugger. Sometimes a little local corruption is a good thing. Truth is, I have broken the law. I am riding illegally. In England, corruption involves figure donations to the inappropriate election fund. Here, it's more democratic - it's chump-change figures, so everyone can join in. The cop gives me a lollipop and we haggle. 'One hundred dollars.’  Five. 'Ten.’ Done. Best of all, he gives me a receipt. Next set of lights, another cop points at the plate and blows his whistle - I flash my chits and, bingo, he apologises, smiles and waves me on. I think I'm gonna like this city.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p199
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 01, 2015, 11:25:40 AM
In between, a summer's worth of spicy jungle mountain roads compressed into one green, dizzy day, buzzing on nothing but the bends' motorcycle emptiness and high on histamine after a giant wasp flew into my shirt and stung me like a taxman. Like a small boy on a swing, like a little girl dancing on her dad's feet, that relaxed, that happy, lolloping side to side, side to side, side to side for mile after mile after mile, and if this isn't nice, what is?
And the second truth. For many British riders, the US coast-to-coast is the biking dream. Which is good, but this is better. Beautiful beaches, belting roads, tasty trails, bouncing bars, punny people. Really. These are the days that must happen to you. Viva Mexico.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p204-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 02, 2015, 08:24:01 AM
I don't like to generalise, but for these bastards, I'll make an exception. Hondurans are the worst drivers in the world. Shit and slow is one thing, but these maniacs are shit and fast. Their preferred road position is wheels on either side of the centre line. Which I suppose gives them fighting chance of avoiding the children and dogs, cows and taxis dashing out from the verges with the fatalism of suicide bombers.
The road whistles through palm forests, industrial sprawls and dramatic mountains. I only know because I keep stopping to smoke and calm down. When I'm riding, I don't see a thing - too busy looking round oncoming buses for the inevitable head-on double overtake. By the time I reach the US garrison town of Comayagua, I'm a nervous wreck and decide to call it a night. Though it's only afternoon. 
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p226
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 03, 2015, 08:16:55 PM
Pull over, though I don't know what I'll check. Oh, right. Even I understand that the rear brake disc shouldn't be, er, on fire. For some reason, the smoke and red glow don't completely convince me and I still feel the need to touch it, just to make sure. My fingers sizzle and stick to the calliper. Bugger.
Seems I've been watching too many History Channel stories about heating machine guns. Why else would I decide to pee on the brake? I've got no water and I can't just sit here, nowhere. I start the splash, then panic that the heat will travel back up the stream and scald my willy, so pinch the end and this running interference turns the stream into a spray. Just as I spot the farmer. At a very basic level, there's something deeply wrong about saying ‘Good afternoon' to a man with a machete in his hand when I've got the lad in mine. A lad that's pissing all over my boots, bags and bike. I guess from the look on his face that he agrees.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p228
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 04, 2015, 06:50:33 AM
Next morning I email the boys at Bike, magazine for advice. 'Yep, it sounds like the bearings; yep, it's dangerous; nope, you shouldn't ride : says Stevie Westlake. I try to find a mechanic, but no one's innarested in helping this barely comprehensible anglo with a weird bike. Their advice- 'Managua’.
 I have me a big decision. Should I stay or should I go? Managua's over a hundred miles away - not country-backwater miles, but Pan-American Highway miles down the main truck route from LA to Panama City. If it goes shit-shaped, if the buggered bearings crunch too hard against spindle, if the disc gets jammed in the calliper, it could be sorta fatal.
What's the alternative? Live in Esteli for the rest of my life?
Managua or bust. As stupid calls go, this is right up there with riding across a Saharan minefield and cuckolding a stone-cold killer. At least it'll give me something to write about. First, I'll change my pants – my gran impressed upon me the vital importance of always wearing clean pants in case of an accident. I guess it stops any confusion about which set of skid marks the investigating cops should measure.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p230-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 05, 2015, 07:04:51 AM
On my own again, On The Road again. Everything's going well, and I should be in Cali by early afternoon. 'To make God laugh, tell Him your plans,’ say the Mexicans. Heading into another armed village, the bike cuts dead. Nothing. Coast downhill to an army post, smile 'Buenos dias' so they won't shoot me, try to think of something useful to check. Two boy soldiers wander over, chatting happy shit ('You know Meek Jagger?'), gurning for photos, while I unpack the tool kit and scratch my arse. 'Good bike,' nods one and slaps the tank. The lights come back on, it fires up again. We look at each other and laugh.
What to do but keep going? Maybe I can find a mechanic in Cali. Please, bike, don't break down' prayers whinge pathetically round my lid. Heading out of another armed village, the bike cuts dead again. Coast uphill to a muddy verge and try to think of something useful to check.
This has happened once before, all the way back in New York State; trying to leave a snowy Albany gas station, turned the key and nada. What did I do then? Had a smoke, kicked it, tried it again? What's the connection?
Slow as Homer, tumblers fall in my daft head. Albany. Bogota. Albany. Bogota. Planes? Planes. Damn. I bet I haven't properly reconnected the battery. I haven't. That's all it is. Maybe I really will make Cali.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p268-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 06, 2015, 05:54:02 AM
An hour out of town I guess I catch a branch in my chain, 'cause I hear it snapping. Two hours out of town, and the rain just won't stop, so we do. We wring out and I glance at the sprocket. It's got fewer teeth than MacGowan's grin. Guess that wasn’t a twig. Bugger.
Next day I stick Brian on the bus and the bags on Trys and limp back to Quito, hoping the slipping chain doesn't jump off the sprocket and through my leg. By the time we get back to the Turtle's Head, I've two clutches. 'That'll be you stuck here then,' says Albert.
He's right. There's a BMW dealer in Quito, but despite the liveried logos and shiny new 1200GSs in the showroom, the spares department is empty as a Soviet shop. I play my cheat trump card and call BMW GB's David Taylor for help. He just happens to be visiting Panama City. And they just happen to have a chain and sprocket set in stock. 'I'll Fed-Ex it tomorrow.'
That was two months ago. The parts were sent, snared by Ecuadorean customs and swallowed whole. Two months of emails, phone calls, websites. Two months of 'no se puede'. Two months without the bike, watching the rain fall hard. This town can drag you down.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p277-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 07, 2015, 07:19:00 AM
A BMW dealer service should smoothly reassure like an opium draught. These monkeys have me spooked like a face at a dark window. Despite the shiny showroom floor and flapping liveried flags, the workshops run by backstreet abortionists. That's not a white lab coat, it's a butcher's apron. First, they fit new sprockets, but not the new chain. Why? They shrug. Er, it's normal to change them at the same time. They look at me like I've got my lad in my hand. 'Manana.' No, today. Then I catch them oiling a freshly waxed chain on the outside. Er, it's normal to oil a chain from the inside. They look at me like I've just stuck my hand down their sister's pants. Praise the Lord and pass the knitting needle.
A quick test trip round the car park, once I've fixed the newly sloppy clutch, shows that the front brake doesn't, despite a dickhead's too- strong handshake, and the newly slack throttle's got maybe half a turn's play and needs wringing like a wet towel. I hate to think what happened inside, hidden under the engine casings. Smile and say thanks and get out of their harm's way.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p287-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 08, 2015, 06:54:03 AM
The bike shudders, dragging its arse like a dog that's been hit by a car, and stops dead in the outside lane. Trucks and buses parp past and rasp round. Two lads from the Indian market help me bounce the bitch to the safe side. Nothing to do but smoke, shrug and murmur ‘I wonder what the hell's wrong with the back brake?’ as a Gatorade splash sizzles into sweet steam.
For appearance's sake, I dig out the tool kit. Trying to prise apart the lock-jawed pads, I snap a screwdriver, which makes me burn my hand, which makes me bang and scorch my head on the pipe. The market claps like they're watching Punch and Judy. All I need now is a rake to stand on. Painful, but works a treat. What to do but wobble off?
There's an urban myth that medical students play a game, an anaesthetist's relay, where they jab each other with ketamine and see who can run the farthest before the sleepy drugs kick in and the muscles collapse. That's how this trip feels. Not if, but when. I'll see just how far south I get before the bike nods off.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p288
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 09, 2015, 06:51:15 AM
While I relax in a picture-perfect paradise, the Dakar deteriorates daily. A squeak becomes a rattle becomes a knock. It's not a bike, it's a game of KerPlunk, and any moment now marbles and straws will clatter out of its bottom.
'Sounds like yer bearings are bollocksed, lad.' His name's Ian, he's a 61-year-old farmer from West Yorkshire and he's travelling the world on an Africa Twin. ‘I told the wife I were going for four months. That were in '99. She's not best pleased. Shall we have a look at that hub?'
I’ve been riding this luck too long. And what once felt pleasingly punk-rock now grates as dumb. Big trips mean taking more responsibility. Rather than bitching about bad services and depending on the kindness of strangers, I should be grown up enough, organised enough, knowledgeable enough, to fix my own problems. Until I sort that, I'm still half stuck at home.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p288
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 10, 2015, 06:19:48 AM
This is the world's Wild West, the edgy West End where deserts, mountains and oceans collide with a jagged scream that settles into a soothing spray; where skies are so high, it's disorientating; deliriously, delightfully dizzying. This desert's defined not by its cities or towns but by the empty spaces in between, by the dramatic pauses between the noisy people.
I'm in love. In love with this road and the way it makes me feel. Bubbling, warm, soulful, real love that sings inside like Otis. Slip-slide down a dirt track and up a cathedral dune 'cause I want to look down from the gods. When the bike topples sideways in soft scrunch, I don't bother picking it up, but keep going on foot. Collapse outside a cave and look. Two buzzards watch me from the wooden arms of a giant, paganised cross…
Three days later I hit Lima. Off the bike, this sophisticated city of eight million seems too quiet. I miss the deafening wind rush, the anonymous momentum, the stimulation that stretches thoughts like gum as riding alerts interrupt every internal conversation. The Road works.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p294
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 11, 2015, 01:31:04 PM
Happy with the company, concerned about the compromises, we’re all prickling with 'Who's faster? Who's smoother? Will he mind if we stop to pee? Will they mind if I stop to smoke?' nonsense. Irrelevant meta-clutter that becomes just that as soon as we stop worrying and start riding.
The sign reads El Camino Sinuoso, the winding road, but it could read 'The Most Beautiful Road in the World'. Ten minutes out of town and we already know this is gonna be very special. Smoky ochre hills concertina like folds on a bulldog’s neck, and as we climb into the Andes there are snowy peaks above, sandy desert behind and below, the road falling away like coiled rope.
Magnificent views, rubbish riding. The Dakar's under-steering and 'umm?' vague. Stop for a smoke and kick the tyres. They're proper hot. 'When did you last check the pressures?’ asks Dick. Umm? He whips out a digital gauge: 18 and 23. He whips out a compressor. And the bike's transformed from squelching in wet wellies to strutting in slutty heels. Air pressure, you say? Who knew?
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p297
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 12, 2015, 09:28:20 AM
Sorry everyone- technical glitch- the story continues...

They're celebrating a tap - the first time they've had running potable water in the village. I'm expecting some interest, but I'm overwhelmed by the no-angle hospitality. The bike's surrounded by ‘Who? What? Where? Why?' questions, handshakes and hugs and I'm showered with shots of chicha.
Halfway through my second cup of cold sick, my host reminds me how this moonshine is made - the raw maize needs an enzyme to break it down before it will ferment. An enzyme found in human spit. Old women chew the grain for hours then spit it into barrels. A gurning gummy granny offers me a refill. How could I say no?
Dick and Jane follow me down, English hesitancy drowned in grubby kids' kisses. Three lads produce a table and chairs and we're sitting targets. Kids on knees, hanging off arms, climbing over heads. 'Will you dance with me?' a pigtailed girl whispers in my ear. Why would I say no?
 Exhausted by the hokey-cokey, dizzy from ring-a-ring o' roses, half-cut on granny phlegm, we hit Cusco just as the setting sun's backlit the red roofs like dashboard light. An hour later we're plotted up in the Norton Rats pub, admiring owner Jeff’s '74 Commando. Two hours later we're in a back room with a pint, a pie and pipe of Peruvian pollen, chuckling along to ‘Easy Rider’.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p300-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 13, 2015, 09:18:07 AM
The gang's all here. Dick and Jane on their banana-yellow VW camper van GS1150, Nutty Jerome from Richmond on his matt-black KTM Adventure with Akropovic horse-scarer, and expat Jeff, our leader, owner of the Norton Rats pub and a very shiny '74 Commando.
A proper bloke on a proper bloke's bike, with a proper bloke's tank badge, kick-start and pretty, ponytailed pillion. We're all proper jealous, this old Brit iron making our Teutonic plastic look as desirable as disposable razors.
And damn, does he know it. The old boy double keen to prove that his old girl s still got it, he charges away, bouncing up steep-as-spires cobbled alleyways, down 'it's not a road, it's a storm drain' short cuts, and out into the Sacred Valley. It ain't what you ride, it's the way that you ride it, fatty.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p303-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 14, 2015, 11:12:49 AM
(In Chile)
But something's not quite right.
First, the border crossing was just too damn easy. Polite professionals in coordinated uniforms helpfully guided me through the immigration process, asking logical questions and entering the answers into a working computer. No daft 'I heart Disco' hand-me-downs, no 'Favourite Spice Girl?' non-sequiturs, no 'Not if the day starts with a "t" bureaucracy, no $50 white boy tax corruption. It's shockingly normal. And after nearly two years in Latin America, normal feels very odd indeed.
Then there's the roads. Two hours in, and I've still not met a car on the wrong side. Drivers actually wait until they can see it's safe before over-taking. They've got odd orange lights on their corners that blink when they're turning and rear red lights that flash when they're stopping. Which is a damn good idea, 'cause they stop at the oddest places - traffic lights, 'Give Way' signs, even pedestrian crossings. Even when there are no cops watching. It's really freaking me out. Normal is the new odd.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p326
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 15, 2015, 09:15:20 AM
In the beginning, Buenos Aires was all good. After two years On The Road, the cultured, cluttered, clued-up capital of the deep, deep south was the perfect pissed-up pit stop. Truth is, I needed a rest. Long- range, long-haul, long-time-from-home travel is liberating, stimulating, astonishing, but tiring too. Behind the fizzy spectacles, the friendly strangers and the laugh-out-loud lunacy is a background hum of stress. Border stress, breakdown stress, 'Bloody hell, that was close!' stress. Every time a child, a dog, a lorry-load of llamas swerves into harm's way and misses by 'Sheesh!' inches, the stress volume gets cranked another notch. And the whisper becomes a nag becomes a ‘this one goes to 11' shriek. A shriek that sweet home Buenos Aires shushes and soothes away with a randy cuddle and a brandy-stained kiss.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p340
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 16, 2015, 01:39:39 PM
Email from the family. 'Why aren't you coming home, Dan?' Because I've spent the last months living in the Buenos Aires Ritz. Because my girlfriends have my telephone number but my bosses don't. Because I can get a rare steak, a real coffee and a cold beer at four in the morning in always-hissing cafe below. Because the bars never close.
 Because I'm three days' ride from the Bolivian Andes, four days south of saucy Rio, five days north of the Ushuaian End of the World, and a million miles from any Gatso. Because licences and lids, shirts and shoes, speed limits and sobriety are optional extras for Argentine riders.
Because down here, Numero 10 Diego Maradona is more important than Benedict XVI. Because down here ‘tango’ means a stylised, sensual knife-fight-in-a-brothel dance, not sugary crap in a can. Because down here 'revolutionary' means the angry poor invading the presidential palace, not a really small phone that's also a camera. Because down here ‘Visa' means three free months in a new country, not a lifetime of dreary debt.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p342
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 17, 2015, 09:38:25 AM
Motorcycle travel doesn't really make a lot of sense. Expensive and exposed, often filthy and frustrating, there's no obvious reason to pick two wheels over four. More comfort, more room, more security, and no one ever fell off a Jeep, right? Maybe on paper. But we don't ride on paper. We ride in Mexico. 'In a car, you're watching a movie - on a bike you re starring in it,' as some cowboy poet slurred. A starring role that's maybe produced by the rider's unique opportunity to be two things at once - sat still while swooping swift, heavily armoured but completely exposed, dagger-proof and always vulnerable, fully concentrated and miles away. And I've gone again, haven't I?
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p357
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 18, 2015, 08:30:07 AM
The bike - a drum-braked, twin-shocker junkyard knocker, a Honda XL185 of indeterminate age. Like all old peasants, no one's too sure exactly when it was born. And no one really cares. This a barely working bike, an errand-limping bike, a hobbled donkey bike that's slumped beyond the standard snotter, rotter or grotter. I know teenage Irish tinkers who'd turn their gluey noses up at this old knacker. But right now, it's perfect. I'm not trying to shave a tenth off a lap of Laguna. I'm just popping out for a ride. 'You gonna take me home, sweetie? Sure, sweetie.
I jump on. The seat falls off and the rusted-through tank stains my shorts. Mike talks me through its idiosyncrasies. 'No key, no brakes and there's a problem with the clutch.' It slips? 'It slipped off.' Oh, I see. Guess I should have spotted the missing lever. 'You sure you've ridden a bike before, sweetie?' Yes, sweetie.
Rotter or not, I'm delighted to be back on a bike. Any bike. Three months is too long to be out of the saddle. Even a saddle that needs holding down with duct tape. Rock it into neutral, clatter the spiny kick-start, give it some gas, crunch it into first and, woah, hold on, sweetie, lurch and go.
These Are The Days That Must Happen To You  Dan Walsh p359-60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 19, 2015, 08:20:17 AM
The vast majority of the book concerns the under-cover infiltration of the Mongols motorcycle club.  There are some bits directly relevant to motorcycle riders, rather than hardcore criminals.

I rolled into the parking lot of the In-N-Out Burger followed by Sue and Ciccone. Sue parked her truck and got herself ready while Ciccone waited in his car and I sat on my idling bike. Ciccone and I looked at each other across the parking lot and gave a thumbs-up.
 Sue walked over to my bike and then, like something out of an old western, hopped onto one of the back passenger foot pegs as if it was Trigger's stirrup. For the uninitiated, any Harley-Davidson could rightfully be called heavy metal, and an FLHTC is heavier still. There was no way I was going to be able to hold up that bike with her big glow-in-the-dark white ass hanging off one side. Though I desperately held on, down we went with a horrific crash in the parking lot- me, my CI, and Steve Martin's revered Harley. It was a less than auspicious start.
From the ground where I lay, I looked up at Ciccone. impossible to describe the look on his face. I think he wanted to laugh, wanted to apologize, and was praying to the ATF gods that this was not a harbinger of things to come. I picked up the bike and my ego and prepared for round two. As if I were talking to a six-year-old, I explained to Sue that there was no way I was going to be able to hold up a thousand pounds of motorcycle and her same time. She was going to have to use a different technique to get on the bike. She looked at me with a wounded expression but then took a deep breath and carefully got on.
Under And Alone  William Queen p13-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 20, 2015, 10:35:35 AM
But by January 1998, I was no longer doing neo-Nazi investigations; I was now riding a Harley around the biker underworld of Southern California.
That's the one thing I didn't need to fake about my undercover persona: a genuine love affair with motorcycles. I’ve ridden bikes my whole adult life. I have a brother who bought a bike before me, when I was sixteen years old, a Triumph 650cc high-compression piece of crap. Somehow we got the thing running, but my brother was almost killed riding it. After I got out of the army and became a police officer in North Carolina, I bought my first Harley-Davidson. I was twenty-four. I've owned Harleys ever since, from hot-rod choppers to straight-off-the-showroom-floor stackers.
Since the beginning of the year, playing my Billy St. John role, I’d been riding an ATF-owned Harley- Davidson and hanging out with some Hells Angels in the San Fernando Valley, trying to gather intelligence for an investigation being run as a joint effort between ATF, the IRS, and the Ventura County Sheriff's Department.
Under And Alone  William Queen p30-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 21, 2015, 09:59:09 AM
As I turned onto Valley Boulevard from the Long Beach Freeway I rolled on the throttle of my Harley. It wasn't long before the sea of bikes came into view: truly an awesome sight. There were easily eighty to ninety motorcycles lined up, standing curbside sentry in front of Tony's Hofbrau. Rounding that corner, I felt a sharp pang in my gut, the kind I'd felt in Vietnam. But there was no platoon to back me up, and no one else to look out for. The only ass on the line was mine.
I slowed the Harley down as I approached my target. Slowly, they came into view: dark, shadowy figures that seemed, at first glance, like some mob of grim reapers. With no obvious place to park my motorcycle, I cruised past the hordes of rough, bearded, tattooed, black-leather-clad Hispanic bikers. Predator and prey, eye to eye.
Under And Alone  William Queen p50-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 22, 2015, 12:31:38 PM
Shooting pool is a mainstay of the biker lifestyle. So is getting shitfaced on Jack Daniel's and being an asshole, but I decided to try pool first. It could be either my ride in or my ticket to the intensive care unit. I'd been shooting pool since I was a kid and figured I could handle the competition. But I couldn't help wondering if beating a few Mongols at pool would constitute some kind of disrespect. The first Mongol patch I played was good, but he only got off one shot before I ran the table. After sinking the eight ball, I looked up to see him coming straight for me with his cue stick clenched in his fist like a club. I straightened up and tightened my grip on my own stick. To my shock, he lowered the cue and extended his free hand. He was the first Mongol to do so all night.
"Good shootin'," he said. "Name's Lucifer."
Under And Alone  William Queen p55-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 23, 2015, 09:18:48 AM
I’d been inside for about thirty minutes when I heard the unmistakable roar of mechanical thunder outside. In just a matter of seconds the street in front of The Place was filled with black-clad Mongols on their iron horses.
A loud voice pierced that thunder: "Yo, Billy, let's roll.”
I went straight to my bike, grabbed my helmet off the mirror, put it on, and mounted up all in one motion. I gave the kickstand a nudge with my boot. The blast from my pipes matched those of the pack, and with a roar like that of a squadron of F/A-18s, we were off. The pack moved in unison, and as a lowly hang-around, I assumed my position at the rear, sucking up the requisite amount of burnt motorcycle oil and exhaust. Every now and then I would have to duck out of the way of mirrors and other motorcycle parts that flew off the bikes ahead of me.
Under And Alone  William Queen p58-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 24, 2015, 10:16:37 AM
Fire 'em up.
And there was a thunderous roar of Harleys: Pan-heads, Shovelheads, Evos, Softails, FLHTCs, and so on- as we began to roll out of the cemetery. More than 150 bikes formed into ranks, winding through the streets of Los Angeles like a great anaconda. Under Red Dog's direction, the sergeants at arms from the various chapters blatantly blocked intersections like rent-a-cops as the procession moved through the city. With impunity we blew right past real cops- stunned LAPD officers, overwhelmed California Highway Patrolmen- as well as red lights, stop signs, speed limits. No law had any bearing on this outlaw army. As we rode through one intersection after another at breakneck speed I realized that the Mongol Nation- like those shrieking warriors on horseback terrorizing the known world under Genghis Khan- were in absolute control of any territory they occupied.
Under And Alone  William Queen p60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 25, 2015, 12:57:54 PM
We were hauling ass one night on the 210 north of L.A. I was running better than 130 miles per hour when my astonishment Evel flew past me doing a good 20 miles per hour better. And he had Carrena hanging on the back! He later told me that he still had throttle left when he passed me but had started having visions of teeth, hair, and eyeballs spread all over the concrete.
The first time I saw Evel's bike-thieving skills in action we were in Pasadena, on a sunny afternoon, and the side-walks were packed with eyewitnesses. There were some sixty Mongols partying that afternoon at a trendy restaurant and bar called Moose McGillycuddy’s. There were also four preppy, good-time Harley riders in the restaurant, and they'd left their machines in the parking lot, at the mercy of the Mongol Nation.
 I watched as Evel and a few other Mongols walked straight to the chromed-out Harleys in the lot. In a matter of seconds, wires were ripped out from under tanks, engines were roaring, and the four bikes were speeding out of Pasadena, closely followed by a carload of Mongols carrying guns.
(John Ciccone, parked a hundred yards away on surveillance duty, managed to capture the whole bike-theft operation with his telephoto lens.)
Under And Alone  William Queen p154
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 26, 2015, 12:46:18 PM
We trucked it to Needles without incident. I hunkered down low in the passenger seat to make sure that no Mongols spotted me on the road along the way. After gassing up in Needles we found an out-of-the-way location to offload the bike. Everything went exactly as planned. I threw on my patch, along with my other Mongol regalia, and fired up the bike. The plan was for Ciccone to follow me into Laughlin and break off just before I got to the Riverside Resort Hotel.
We were about five miles out of Laughlin when every- thing went to shit. First, I felt my bike starting to slow down. Even though I rolled the throttle, it got slower and slower. I began to smell something burning and turned to see that my back brake was seizing up. I pulled off onto the shoulder, and Ciccone stopped behind me in the U-Haul. I told him that I'd have to stay put until the brake calliper cooled or until I could get a pair of pliers to bleed it off.
At that very instant a Las Vegas Metro car rolled up. The cop asked me if I needed help, and explained to him that my brake had just seized up and that I needed a pair of pliers. He stared at me, then at Ciccone, then back at the U-Haul. Shit. I knew what was coming.
"Who's the guy in the U-Haul?
 "I don't know, I've never seen him before in my life. He just saw me on the side of the road and stopped to see if I needed help."
The cop wasn't biting. I tried to keep his eyes- and my own- on my mechanical problem.
"Got a pair of pliers I can use, Officer?"
The diversionary tactic didn't work.
Under And Alone  William Queen p225-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 27, 2015, 08:57:23 AM
Adrian Scott lives in Melbourne.  Having just obtained his L plates, he set off to ride his KLR650 on the Road Of Bones across Russia and down to Istambul.

The next day, after some final bureaucratic hurdles, I retrieved my bike from its container, re-assembled it (slowly) and rode back Vladivostok Airport whereupon I promptly disassembled it again for the promised flight to Magadan. But this time I had to reduce its footprint even further so that it might fit inside the hold of the small Soviet-era hulk that would carry us to Magadan. The Chief of Cargo was called, and armed with his official tape measure and plane specifications he gave my bike a thorough once over before shaking his head solemnly and saying laconically "Is too big for plane. Is not possible. Goodbye." Undeterred, I continued late into the night, reducing my motorcycle into so many small pieces that I could have posted it to myself. But I did eventually get the required approvals and three days later found myself on the tarmac at Magadan Airport, alongside the cargo crew desperately trying to retrieve all of the pieces of my motorcycle which had been packed in randomly with all of the mail and other parcels and supplies on this weekly lifeline delivery from the outside world.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 28, 2015, 08:59:53 AM
Upon checkout I asked whether I could borrow some tools to complete one final - but critical - maintenance job on my bike. By the time I had got to the garage there were two men (one a young mechanic) ready to assist - or rather, actually do the job while I watched. They worked hard and quickly had the job done. The young mechanic was clearly a motorcycle enthusiast so I offered him a ride.  which thrilled both us for different reasons as he roared away, out of sight and then came skidding back into the garage, stopping just a few inches in front of us, transferring much of the rubber from my tyres onto the concrete floor.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 29, 2015, 09:00:24 AM
Suddenly my front wheel sunk into a deep patch of soft dirt more like sand - and I immediately lost control of the bike. My handlebars swung back and forth and buzzed in a wide arc before my eyes, triggering that sickening sensation, almost in slow motion; the voice inside my head saying "Now, there is nothing you can do, you are going to crash and this is really going to hurt." Oh bugger! But there was more to it as I felt a sharp tug at my left ankle. Jammed under my pannier, it had become the pivot; I was a human catapult and my head the pay load. Oh dear. And before I knew anything else, the ground rushed up to meet me in a bone crunching collision.  My head slammed into the hard gravel of the road like the atoms in a particle accelerator colliding with six feet of cement. Colourful sub-atomic particles whizzed about inside my head in a wonderful show, like sherbet fireworks exploding against the blackness of my skull.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 30, 2015, 08:22:40 AM
The only issue now was actually riding the bike with an ankle was numb from the pain so I mounted the bike carefully, turned it on, held the clutch tightly with my right (wrong) hand while bending over from the waist to move the gear lever up into 2nd gear with my left hand before lurching off along the road. I could brake and use the throttle, but, apart from steering (with warped handlebars), that was the extent of my control. I would just keep riding until I found someone or ran out of petrol, whichever came first. And I didn't even think about in which direction to head, for turning back was never an option. So, injured, deeply depressed but faintly optimistic, I headed off deeper into the wilderness, another victim of the Road of Bones.
Then I began to think how lucky I had been - my helmet and safety gear had saved my life and my heavy motorcycle boots had probably prevented my leg from being completely snapped off. Slowly, and with a wry smile on my face, I began to whistle and sing...
Always look on the bright side of life...
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 31, 2015, 09:17:06 AM
The drivers were friendly and very interested in my bike. They shared their tea and food with me and I offered them what little I had but they refused. My Russian-English dictionary was invaluable as we worked through many topics. The older men in particular were very interested in Australia and what is was like to live there. When I explained the concept of long service leave they all fell about laughing - these men all worked every day of the year hauling diesel  and other critical supplies up and down the Kolyma Highway (or at least the sections where it was possible to drive). They were away from home for long periods and often slept in their truck cabins. There was certainly no regulation of driving hours, a/though each truck usually had two or more drivers (the machines ran continuously) and speed was not an issue as it was impossible to drive more than 40kph in even the best weather on these roads.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p18-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 01, 2015, 12:22:50 PM
This lifted my spirits no end - I had conquered the Road of Bones and was about to get through on the winter road to Yakutsk! I rode on - the channels got deeper and the mud thicker, the bike was struggling and so was I. I was drenched with sweat from the physical effort required to keep the bike upright and move forward. I made it to the corner. Almost there... I could see the end of the mud marked by a bridge and dry road ahead. I rode on for another few hundred metres until I reached a particularly bad patch. I had to stop - the bike had lost traction and I was worried I was bogged. I looked down at the back wheel and found it covered in thick mud, but not bogged. I clicked into gear but the wheel just didn't move ~ no drive. I checked again. I got down into the mud and pawed as much of it away from the drive chain and frame to give the wheel some clearance - again there was no drive, no power to the back wheel. Bugger - what had I done? Why wasn't the wheel moving? I had been OK with minor mechanical issues up until now, but an engine problem three hundred kilometres from the next major town I did not need. I kept working at it - I was convinced something was jammed in the chain stopping it from moving. I spooned the wet mud out with my bare hands from every conceivable part of the bike. My boots and legs were covered in mud. I took off the luggage and panniers and tried again - nothing. I tried pushing in neutral and the bike moved forward including the back wheel so there was nothing jamming it- it just wouldn’t engage in gear and drive forward.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p51-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 02, 2015, 09:35:15 AM
As soon as he slid his finger across his throat and said in his best English "ghum ovah" I knew that the game was indeed over. Lyo-ha carefully pulled the lightly baked clutch discs from the engine and showed them to me. These had worn severely from my incompetent riding and were now slipping over each other giving no traction and hence no drive from the engine. A search party was formed and they went scouring the auto-markets of Yakutsk in vain for replacement parts; for these were proprietary parts and the nearest Kawasaki dealer was ten thousand kilometres away in another country - but at least we had tried. After some complicated preparations, I managed to speak with my local dealer at home; he could have the parts within two days but then it would be over to an international courier to get the parts to me in Yakutsk.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p61
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 03, 2015, 08:18:15 AM
In the morning, Sergei cooked me a full breakfast and then he and Sasha escorted me out of town and to the ferry across the Lena - some hundred kilometres away. As I sped away across the countryside, my two week stay in Yakutsk didn't seem so bad after all; I had been rescued from the middle of nowhere by am incredibly generous and hospitable man and his colleagues. I had been welcomed into his family and shared many things with them, I had explored a frontier town, hopefully understood the Yakut people and their culture a little better, I had seen fabulous wealth in gold and diamonds, I had seen and touched ten thousand year old life in permafrost and been granted honorary membership of the Nord Brotherhood motorcycle club. What else could I ask for?
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p78
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 04, 2015, 08:12:56 AM
I spent the morning checking over my bike - it was amazing the number of factory-tightened nuts and bolts that had somehow loosened themselves in the course of riding over these rough roads. I checked each and every one and tightened many. Even the twenty seven mm nut at the top of the steering column was loose so that I could easily turn it by hand! I wasn't exactly sure of its purpose, but I suspected it was important and critical to be tight when riding - I had visions of the handlebars coming off in my hands as I tried (and failed) to corner a dangerous bend, As I went about my work the old lady owner was belting the living daylights out of the carpets that were hanging up in the yard for cleaning. She might have been old, but she sure packed a punch. Note to self: don't argue about the bill when checking out.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p85-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 05, 2015, 08:29:25 AM
There was stuff every where; tyres, panniers, bags, toolkit, helmet, jacket, nuts and bolts - all spewed out onto the platform in a hurry, for the train had to vacate its position to let others come and go. This was a busy station in a large city with many train services both long distance and urban. People came and went too, inspecting my work but not bothering me. It was hot and sunny - over thirty degrees - and I quickly worked up a sweat putting all the pieces back together AGAIN. I sure was sick of doing this job. Within an hour, however, I had it all back together and was riding down the busy platform dodging commuters and travellers. I crossed the tracks with some tractors and cargo moving equipment and was suddenly on the streets of Novosibirsk, solo and dangerous - all I had to do now was ride down through Barnaul, to Semipalatinsk, across the steppes of northeast Kazakhstan to a remote and seldom used border crossing with China in the next eight days.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p102-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 06, 2015, 08:39:24 AM
It felt as if I had been spat out of a time machine, so stark was the contrast between where I had come from and where I was now. I had spent over a month in the far north east corner of Russia in remote parts of Siberia. I had lived on a diet of bread, tea, sausage and tinned food. I had lived with locals and shared in their difficult conditions, stayed in the occasional "hotel", bathed in muddy tap water, ridden through mud, bog, swamp and rivers, drunk too much vodka, shared feasts of the best local food with generous hosts, eaten freshly cooked fish straight from rivers, slept in police stations, Kamaz cabins, workers' camps, apartments and camped in derelict ghost towns. Now I was riding along the wide open boulevards of central Novosibirsk in the hot summer sun.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p105
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 07, 2015, 07:12:53 PM
By 9:30pm, however, I had made it to the outskirts of Semipalatinsk. It wasn't particularly well lit and there were absolutely no signs and when the road came to a fork I had to stop and ask for directions. I pulled up at a petrol station in the middle of an unofficial taxi rank. Out of the darkness came faces and bodies of all shapes and sizes. This was the place where the Russians had exploded over four hundred and fifty nuclear bombs - right up until the late 1980s - and it looked to me as if most of the guys here were a few chromosomes short of a full deck. It was like I had landed on the Island of Dr. Moreau. One man in particular was very peculiar - he had short hair on the top of his head, but big side burns and long curly hair from both the sides and back of his head down to his chest and I don't know how he ate without puncturing his lips - so badly arranged were his teeth. But he, like all of them, was extremely friendly and curious about me and my bike. It was as if an alien had landed and they were trying to make sense of it - that's impression I got anyway. Another man, dressed in a shell suit and looking the most normal, approached me. He was drunk and insisted I stay with him and his family - an offer I politely declined, but after asking about hotels three of four times it was clear I wasn't going anywhere. We talked about where I had come from and where I was going and they all inspected my bike in detail and were impressed. Some teenagers on motorcycles pulled up and also joined in.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p110-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 08, 2015, 12:28:44 PM
In the morning I awoke to find Mischa meticulously cleaning every inch of my bike with a small rag and a bucket of water. He worked from top to bottom and around both sides for at least an hour, scouring and scrubbing and washing until the bike looked almost brand new. I tried to help, but he wouldn't have a bar of it – insisting that I was his guest and this was a gift from him to me. I ate a huge breakfast of kolbasa, eggs, bread, jam, sour cream etc, etc, and was completely full by the time we headed into town to say goodbye to Bolyat and Olya (sans Lyuba of course). Then the torture of breakfast #2 began. I couldn't believe it, it was an even larger fare than I had just consumed. I didn't know how I was going to manage it, so I just ate very, very, very slowly, chewing each mouthful as much as I could before trying to force it down. I felt they were at risk of breaching the UN charter for the protection of human rights. It took me a full two hours to get through just a fraction of what they had laid out. Luckily they weren't too offended and packed the balance in big plastic bags as add-on luggage for my trip. There was half a loaf of bread, honey, nuts, biscuits, potatoes, tomatoes, eggs and more. This would be lunch and snack food for the next few days.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p121-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 09, 2015, 08:19:57 AM
I waddled down the stairs and flopped onto my bike, said my goodbyes quickly and rode off, following Mischa who had promised to show me the way out of town. But we weren't heading out of town at all. We soon pulled up at a large Russian Orthodox cathedral along the river bank near the centre of town. Mischa motioned that I follow him inside, so I entered the solemn space of the church vestibule facing the wall of icons common to all these churches. The priest was chanting prayers in deep monotones, seeing other people and trying to deal with their issues and requests. Mischa interrupted and politely dragged the priest over to meet me. He explained what I was doing and pulled out of his pocket four tiny golden crosses which he had purchased earlier. Mischa then gave these to the priest who blessed them and then carefully and earnestly hung one around my neck, singing softly in prayer as he did so. He then landed the other three crosses to me for safe keeping (one for each member of my family). Mischa definitely had a tear in his eye now and I was touched yet again by the depth of his feelings and his efforts to support and help me. We composed ourselves (well, Mischa did anyway) and I followed him in his car to the very edge of the town at the start of what looked like a barren and rocky desert. He stopped and got out, we gave each other a big hug, observed a minute's silence (a Russian tradition?) and then I was off across what turned out to be a barren and rocky desert; this was the beginning of the Steppes.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p122
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 10, 2015, 09:10:14 AM
Omar rolled out a detailed map of Xinjiang Province which had pictures of famous and beautiful scenic locations for tourists plus a little descriptive text. I looked at each scene hopefully and asked Omar whether we would be going there - "No, that's not near our route" he said each time, or "That's close, but we don't have time to go there". He told me that Xinjiang has many beautiful mountain ranges, lakes and pastureland (where most of the scenes on the map were from) and the rest is desert. And where were we going I asked? "The desert"; we were headed along the southern Silk Road, across and around the enormous Taklimakan Desert. At this scale our journey (just in China) looked epic, and even though I had already ridden several thousand kilometres, this leg alone was going to be a few thousand more. It's funny- when I planned this trip I really had no comprehension of what riding a thousand kilometres would be like - distances between cities and across countries were just added up and averaged out in a mathematical exercise to spread the journey out over time. I had no real appreciation of the effort involved or the reality of relentless riding.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p133-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 11, 2015, 09:37:29 AM
He worked quickly with deft hands and had soon removed the engine oil, coolant and all of the engine bolts, placing the removed parts carefully to one side on the pavement on a towel. He worked in silence and alone but the engine cover just wouldn't come off - the long rod that runs vertically and turns on its long axis to push and pull the clutch plates was jammed in position, stuck to the plates preventing the cover from releasing. He tapped, pulled, pushed, inserted screwdrivers from many angles but it simply would not come off. It would move a few millimetres back and forth but no more. Undeterred, Mr. Fan persisted until finally after a couple of good thumps with my rubber mallet (I knew it would come in handy for something) the engine cover came off, and as it did, little pieces of broken metal fell from the open clutch and rained onto the pavement. Mr. Fan looked up at me slowly from his prostrated position and there was no need for words - his expression said it all; it was bad, very, very bad and wasn't going to be fixed quickly or simply here on the side of the road in a remote village. 
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p137
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 12, 2015, 07:50:10 AM
We found Mr. Shu inside, crouched on his haunches, carefully re-assembling the broken pieces of my clutch plate cover, drilling out the broken and locked-in-place bolts and re-tapping the threads in each of the holes. It was painstaking work, had little chance of being successful in my estimation, and I couldn't believe he was even attempting it, but he persisted and told us confidently that he would have it fixed later that day! He then went on to show us a replacement long bolt (for the one that was bent and stuck in my engine cover) that had been fashioned earlier that day from a piece of scrap metal. It was an exact replica of the broken part but in shiny new metal - it was incredible and I couldn't get over the level of ingenuity here. I still doubted whether it would all work and unkindly reminded Mr. Shu that I still had over ten thousand kilometres to ride to get to Istanbul and I needed any sort of repair work to hold up for at least that much riding. I'm not sure if he was offended or not, but he shook his head violently from side to side and let fly with a torrent of Chinese invective that Omar simply translated as, “Mr. Shu says don't worry, it will be alright for you".
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p141
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 13, 2015, 08:22:50 AM
They went to work like a swarm of vultures devouring an animal left to die in the desert and soon all that was left of my bike was a skeleton frame - they had taken everything removable off to examine the wiring. I can't adequately describe how disturbing this was for me. There were at least six of them and each had removed different pieces and it was hard to see what system they were using to keep track of all the pieces and the bolts. How on earth would they re-assemble it all correctly? I tried to tidy up a little and keep things organised but I was outnumbered so retreated to the back seat of our car to eat a bread roll - my breakfast. My bike has a moderate level of circuitry but I had no diagrams and these guys just kept going, checking circuit by circuit trying to isolate the problem. It took about an hour but eventually they stopped and started putting things back together which I took as a signal that all was better. I tried to help put everything back together properly but when they had finished one of the kids was still holding a few largish bolts which he handed over to me quickly.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p153
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 14, 2015, 11:33:22 AM
As soon as I shut off the engine I was overwhelmed by the immense silence and simple stark beauty of the mountains.  The sky seemed a deeper blue up here and it was incredibly still and peaceful - a moment frozen in time for me. I had to pinch myself- for here I was, a rank outsider and amateur who had achieved this part of his unlikely plan - to be alone in the middle of the one of the highest and most remote mountain ranges in the world independently - it was wonderful and I felt special. I thought about my family and wondered where they were and what they were doing at this moment. I imagined a perspective from space looking down at me here, and them, at home. It was a strange sensation and all at once I felt utterly alone but totally connected. I thought about how far I had come, all the wonderful people I had met and all of the help I had received so far: Vassily, Anton and the Caravan of Love along the Road of Bones, Big Mama and Zhenya in Yakutsk, the train crew across Russia, Mischa, Lyuba and Bolya in Semipalatinsk, Mr Shu in Urumchi, the boys in Kashgar and many others. It was already a long list and my journey had indeed been rich in experience for me.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p174
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 15, 2015, 01:38:05 PM
I stopped at the side of the road on a wide curve high above the plateau on a steep hillside and ate some of my biscuits and drank some of my lemon fizz. But as soon as I did I knew it was a mistake - it was if someone had initiated my own internal gastro launch sequence - my stomach was full of liquid propellant and it had just been ignited. I figured I had about ten seconds to find a suitable launch pad. It's funny how, even in times of great distress like this, where time is critical, you stop and consider things like "now, where can I go to do this in private?" I could not have been more alone, but I couldn't bear the thought of soiling the Pamir Highway so I scrambled down the steep and rocky hillside, loosening my pants as I ran, quickly locating a large flat stone upon which I perched and mercifully relieved myself. My backside hung out over the long valley like a piece of giant artillery and I sat squatting like a fat cane toad in the sun, waiting patiently for this horrible episode to end. Suddenly I heard the crunching of gravel and the heavy grinding of gears above me - I looked up and realised immediately that I was positioned in clear line of sight to the road as a big Kamaz full of road workers passed by, the men in the back smiling and waving to me as the driver honked hard on his horn. I couldn't move quickly, but did manage a small salute.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p181
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 16, 2015, 08:37:48 AM
By the late afternoon though, the mountains had closed in again and I was riding deep down inside tight canyons on a twisting dirt track teetering precariously at times just above the roaring Pyanj River. The road had deteriorated now to a pulverised mess of gravel, rocks and fine grey powder. Recent landslides frequently spilled out onto the track too, making progress difficult and slow. In places the rock walls went beyond vertical and hung out over the river and the road had been blasted out of the rock face creating gigantic and extended granite eaves which I rode under very nervously, accompanied by the frighteningly loud reverb from my exhaust. What held them up? My, that's a big crack isn't it? What was that creaking noise? Would the noise of a motorbike engine (not heard here often) vibrate the rock ceiling loose? I held my breath instinctively as I rode carefully under particularly large blocks of granite.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p208
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 17, 2015, 09:19:06 AM
My back wheel fishtailed violently underneath me and I fought hard to regain control. I lost traction and speed, got bogged deep and then fell over. I cursed again. My chain and cogs were coated in tiny gritty granules like fresh sandpaper. The bike, with me on top was far too heavy to continue riding safely on the soft sand so I walked with the bike the last fifty metres or so off the dunes and I rode back onto the track.
I rode out high above the river; the track, carved into the mountainside narrowed, and became hard and rutted, dusted in a thin film of fine grey powder and sprinkled generously with loose gravel. I had to concentrate hard to steer a steady line, but when I did look up I was astounded to see a huge eagle gliding silently just a few metres above my head. It must have measured six feet from wing tip to wing tip. A thick beige stripe ran from one wing tip to the other in a shallow v-shape and then bled into its chocolate brown fuselage. It was majestic and I stopped to watch the beautiful creature glide effortlessly away, swept along by invisible eddies of wind.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p210
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 18, 2015, 09:33:53 AM
I ate two big bowls of thick delicious meat and potato stew with fresh bread and sweet tea with the other men. I never tired of these conversations where I explained what I was doing, why I was doing it and all of the other ancillary topics that spawned from them and tonight was no exception. A puzzled "Why?" was always the first question. Unlike almost everyone I met on my journey, I could, a) afford to travel, and b) probably travel anywhere I wanted and do anything I wanted - within reason. They knew this and the fact that I had chosen to come here and be with them now was astounding, and I sensed their pride as hosts by their unconditional willingness to share as much as they could of themselves and their culture with me and I felt privileged to be able to receive and experience it so directly. I reflected that like so many of my best experiences so far it was unplanned and spontaneous. 
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p211-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 19, 2015, 10:44:58 AM
I rode directly into the huge blazing orange fireball of the setting sun and had to shield my eyes dangerously with my left hand while steering and maintaining the throttle with the other – I was tired and getting lazy and should have stopped. The road widened into a vast expanse of wide smooth and unmarked fresh bitumen and I sped up excitedly for the last hundred kilometres or so into Dushanbe in the crimson dusk that had now settled over the countryside. Just as I started to enjoy the smooth, easy riding, I was flagged down by two pot-bellied policemen, who came running out from under a tree waving a radar gun at me. I had no idea what the speed limit was, but knew I had been riding too fast and had resigned myself to being fined, but once they realised I was from Australia the conversation quickly turned to kangaroos, Kostya Tsu and crocodiles and, after I had told them that I had come all the way from Magadan - which of course they knew of - I was beyond reproach and immediately elevated to the pantheon of Tajik folklore. I shook their hands and they both slapped me hard on the back before I rode off into the dusk.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p219
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 20, 2015, 09:15:34 AM
Dushanbe was a watershed in my journey; it had been a complete break from the relentless riding and the hardships of life on the road. I now felt completely rejuvenated, my previously flagging confidence now soared and I felt my mojo, conspicuously absent to date, had finally arrived. Riding was instinctive now - the bike simply an extension of my body as I glided over the landscape on my exhilarating magic carpet ride.  The road continued to follow the narrow river valley and now rose above and away from the river. I hit some muddy road works in a busy but otherwise dusty village and then rode a lonely stretch of more difficult track before emerging into a small secluded valley of striking Arcadian beauty. There were lush meadows filled with flowers and grazing livestock, a crystal clear mountain stream splashed gently over smooth rocks and ran away under a pretty stone arch bridge, an old carved wooden tea platform sat peacefully in a shaded glade by the riverbank and, in the distance, perched on a low hill overlooking this idyllic scene, stood an old stone farmhouse and compound. Beyond the bridge the road ended, abruptly forking at an obtuse angle into two equally unappealing stretches of dry loose gravel track, one rising steeply to the left, like an emergency truck stop ramp straight up the mountainside, and the other, which lead away more gently, but then rose up to meet an endless series of switchbacks slashed into the hulking mountains ahead.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p233-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 21, 2015, 09:40:59 AM
I cleared the village and rounded a hill high above the river and came to a temporary track, recently cut and graded that climbed steeply above the village. The track was loose, soft soil and I watched with some alarm as the fully-loaded jalopy bus ahead of me slid around on the treacherous surface, before being enveloped in the dust cloud that it spewed up. It was difficult to judge how long I spent on the track, or how high above the river it climbed, or how close I had ridden to the edge so intense was my concentration as I rode cloaked in a curtain of thick dust. Eventually, drenched in sweat and with my wrists throbbing painfully from the intensity of my riding, l emerged onto flat open higher ground where the track petered out into two feint tyre tracks as it crossed paddocks, orchards and fields. In a surreal scene, I came to a lone soldier who sat at an old wooden desk at the edge of an  apricot orchard where he manned a checkpoint over a cattle grate. A colourful dilapidated gypsy wagon sat forlornly in the far corner of the orchard. He inspected my papers without saying a word, until I broke the long silence asking simply "Penjikent?" He laughed and told me to keep going. I rode on through a large plantation of tall maize being harvested by sinewy sun-dried women who worked rhythmically removing the precious cobs, unhusked from their stalks, in another age-old back breaking ritual.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p249
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Tully on February 21, 2015, 07:43:59 PM
If you don't ride....you wouldn't understand

 :blu13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 22, 2015, 12:49:29 PM
The last few days had been wonderfully stimulating and I felt rejuvenated both mentally and physically, but it felt good to be back on my bike, moving again, almost like this was my natural state now. And riding three hundred kilometres after lunch across the parched plains and thirsty cotton fields of southern Uzbekistan didn't faze me either; I was slowly clearing the bogeymen that I had carried like deadweight for so long. Then I thought about the multi-coloured springs, homemade parts and agricultural blobs of welded scrap metal that currently held my clutch together and a big warning sign flashed in my mind: proceed with caution.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p277
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 23, 2015, 09:05:15 AM
Eventually the desert receded, quickly replaced by fertile farmland and rustic villages as the road converged again with the Amu-Darya. This was the ancient Oxus - and today it still sustains a narrow corridor of habitation and cultivation running in a gentle arc to the north-west, where it peters out in a semiarid delta as it trickles  into the rapidly receding Aral Sea. But the river here was full and wide and free flowing - albeit shallow and heavily silted - and I crossed it cautiously on a makeshift pontoon bridge of flat-bottomed barges, tied together and joined loosely by sliding metal ramps which sizzled like BBQ plates under the midday sun and moved dangerously underneath me as I negotiated each seam while battling the unforgiving and impatient oncoming traffic. But I didn't stop for fear of the rubber of my tyres and boots melting, and was soon safely across. I drove on through the modern, bustling but ultimately drab city-town of Urgench, before travelling the final twenty kilometres along the bizarre trolleybus route connecting the two towns. Massive and modern, it was an outrageous piece of expensive and unnecessary capital works designed solely to impress foreigners who had visited Khiva during its recent millennial celebrations and was now a white elephant.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p301-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 24, 2015, 08:50:20 AM
I squeezed the ignition and turned the throttle, but instead of the wonderfully comforting soft throbbing of internal combustion, all I got was a hoarse rasping cough and soft splutter and then a cold silence. I tried and tried and tried again with no success. Oh bugger. They both looked at me blankly, as if this was somehow not unexpected. I rested my arms on the handlebars and rested my head on them gently and closed my eyes - selfishly absorbed in my own misfortune. There was nothing left to do but push, so I mounted my bike and slowly heaved it forward with firm strides, pushing past my sleepy-eyed sentry and the now-bewildered hotelier. There was a large open area in front of the hotel where I paddled up and down repeatedly, desperately trying to build enough momentum for a clutch start- all of which ultimately failed. I looked at my watch - 8:45; I certainly wouldn't be meeting anyone, anywhere anytime today at this rate. Eventually my two comrades took pity on me and, without saying a word, came over and began pushing me tirelessly around the square until, after many failed attempts, the bike eventually groaned hesitantly into life. Exhausted, they stood breathless and steaming in the cold morning air, but smiled proudly as they waved me away merrily, and suddenly, I felt bad about my tainted perception of Nukus; I realised that like everywhere else I had been, people were almost always good at heart and predisposed to help a fellow human in need - the only difference here was the extent to which they had been worn down and hardened and had had the life almost completely sucked out of them by their environment and their bleak, empty prospects.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p318
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 25, 2015, 08:36:04 AM
In Iran…
But those first few minutes on the freeway were just a warm up act ahead of a mad main event as the half-crazed drivers of cars, buses and trucks all jockeyed for pole position in this deadly drag race across the desert. And it wasn't long before we passed the first of many fatal accidents; a crumpled mini-van and a battered family sedan lay near each other upside down on the rocky desert floor some fifty yards from the road, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers, emergency workers and distraught survivors. And it was difficult to understand how such an accident could occur on such a long straight stretch of one-way traffic across an empty desert; speed and driver error the only obvious reasons. But witnessing this carnage didn't seem to deter anyone, as our procession continued on at a breakneck 120kph (and this was in the slow lane). I could barely keep up, but, more afraid of the consequences of slowing down I pushed my bike even harder. And, with all the aerodynamics of a refrigerator, even a gentle cross breeze caught me like a wet sail and blew me around dangerously across, and then outside my lane. My arms began to ache from wrestling with the bike as I tried to maintain a constant heading into the teeth of the wind. I had never ridden so fast. I was in top gear and climbing through 6000 rpm, approaching the engine's red line - unchartered territory for both of us and, despite the emphatic assurances of the inscrutable Mr Shu - whose face I could see clearly now in my mind's eye - that nagging feeling that I was sitting on an time bomb that might explode at any minute filled me with a deep dark fear.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p352
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 26, 2015, 10:13:02 AM
But darkness descended quickly over the desert and it was a sprawling web of twinkling lights under an indigo sky that ultimately resolved into the large and surprisingly modern city of Shahrud. It also had a modern, well equipped and aggressive police force, most of whom greeted me at the end of the freeway explaining that it was in fact illegal to ride a motorcycle on an Iranian motorway. But with the cultural and language barriers just too high and too wide to bridge tonight, I was pardoned on account of my own ignorance and allowed to proceed. Navigating by instinct I negotiated a series of large roundabouts and found my way onto a bizarre avenue of pulsating neon palm trees, before finally emerging into the throbbing heart of Shahrud along a narrow dog-legged street clogged with traffic.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p354
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 27, 2015, 09:19:06 AM
"You want us to open up the engine?" he said bewildered.
"Ah... .yes... please" I said, a little perplexed, wondering how I could have been any more explicit. "But what if we find something wrong?" he shot back.
"What do you mean?" I said - a little exasperated. "My clutch has been re-built with scrap metal by a little Chinese man who lives in a closet and works on the pavement under a beach umbrella. I've ridden thousands of kilometres across deserts, along rutted mountain tracks, through rivers and been bogged knee deep in sand dunes. My bike needs to be examined and repaired properly! That's why I came here!" - I was ranting now.
The office manager listened politely and with great restraint, sensing my growing frustration, and said calmly, "Well, you know, the clutch, it is a complex piece of the motorcycle."
"You're telling me... I stuck a wrench in there two months ago and almost killed myself!"
"You know, it is illegal to ride bikes larger than 250cc in Iran; we have never actually serviced a bike like this before..." he confessed. The Mexicans looked away.
"But I saw a bike like mine in your showroom!"
"Shipped here in error... it's only on display because we have nowhere else to put it and can't afford to return it. We don't know how it works."
"No problem, just do your best," I said cheerfully.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p363
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 28, 2015, 08:41:39 PM
Depressingly, I could now trace my remaining journey on a single map and could count the days left until I finished with my fingers. Whether the road actually got better from here was almost a moot point now; for I was certainly going to finish. The roads were all well made and paved, people spoke English, there was solid and reliable infrastructure, and barring any mechanical disaster or traffic accident, nothing really stood in my way anymore. The goal that had seemed so far away when I set out from the Pacific shores of Russia up near the Arctic Circle and had then became a pipe dream, as I broke myself and my bike in the bogs and marshes along the Road of Bones, was now becoming a reality. It was a strange sensation that left me feeling melancholy.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p385
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 01, 2015, 12:15:39 PM
And I knew it was time to finish when, just a few days before the end of my journey, I came to a fork in the road where a muddy unmarked dirt track led off in one direction and a neat sealed and signposted roadway continued on. Where once I would have instinctively taken Frost's “road less travelled” I now craved the certainty and reliability of the big, wide easy path - the bigger the better - for sadly, the highways and freeways had now become my preferred domain; I had simply lost the desire or gumption to explore and take risks anymore.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p395
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on March 01, 2015, 05:20:32 PM
Be sad to see this one end.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: StinkyPete on March 02, 2015, 06:31:14 AM
Be sad to see this one end.

I bought the book. :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 02, 2015, 09:11:30 AM
I paid only $22.46 for the 400 page illustrated book from Book Depository, post free, arrives in under 2 weeks.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 02, 2015, 09:11:58 AM
Upon reflection, the great joy of my trip had revealed itself slowly, delivered in a complex and seemingly unrelated series of events and encounters. But now, suddenly, all of these fragments resolved themselves in an epiphany: the source of my quiet elation and deep tranquillity was absolute and fundamental: the simplicity of life on the road (eat, sleep and ride), the spontaneous generosity and genuine camaraderie of the people I had met, the immense, diverse beauty of Nature and the wonder of Man's achievements.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p396
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Sabie on March 02, 2015, 11:10:47 AM
 Get your motor runnin'
 Head out on the highway
 Lookin' for adventure
 And whatever comes our way
 Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
 Take the world in a love embrace
 Fire all of your guns at once
 And explode into space

 I like smoke and lightning
 Heavy metal thunder
 Racin' with the wind
 And the feelin' that I'm under
 Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
 Take the world in a love embrace
 Fire all of your guns at once
 And explode into space

 Like a true nature's child
 We were born, born to be wild
 We can climb so high
 I never wanna die

 Born to be wild
 Born to be wild
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on March 02, 2015, 11:28:05 AM
If you put that to music, you could have a hit song.....

 o:) o:)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 03, 2015, 08:53:18 AM
I picked a lane at random, dodging buses, trucks and cars and edged forward to the little booth where the Greek border official reached out nonchalantly to take my papers, not even bothering to look at me as he did so. He flipped the pages of my passport deftly but without emotion, like a bank teller blankly counting cash notes, as he looked for a suitable place to land his stamp. And then something strange happened; I watched him closely as his eyes bulged and his expression changed from one of casual interest to deep astonishment, as he slowly pieced together my entire route from the jigsaw of visas and entry and exit stamps that littered my tattered passport - from the remote gulag town of Magadan in Siberia, a world away, across the entire continent of Asia. The cogs inside his head turned and ground as he computed what stood in front of him now. And then, finally, with some obvious emotion, he thrust his hand through the small window and shook mine vigorously, saying over and over again “Congratulations! This is incredible!" And that's when it started to register with me: my journey had ended, but it had indeed been extraordinary. But it would take a long time for me to fully process this.
The Road Gets Better From Here  Adrian Scott p397
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 04, 2015, 11:34:05 AM
The downside of motorcycles is that they have the capacity to scare me absolutely rigid, so it is hard to explain to anyone who has never ridden one why I would want to do it. Perhaps it's some latent masochistic streak in my personality that I need to frighten myself as a reminder of my own mortality. Or maybe I am just plain stupid.
 On the other hand, riding a bike on an empty winding road on a warm summer's day without another human being around is simply exhilarating. Riding a motorcycle and riding it well heightens my senses and somehow makes me feel more alive, allowing me to focus on just staying upright and staying safe and nothing else. There is no time to worry about money, friends, whose birthday I have forgotten, taxes or what needs to be done around the house. All the trivia and cares of modern life disappear as I struggle to maintain my balance and control 1,584cc of engine slung beneath a fuel tank on a two-wheeled missile that is guided by handlebars, has two brake levers and a throttle so sensitive that I can go from walking pace to 60mph in just a twist of the right wrist.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 05, 2015, 09:41:57 AM
My quick-fix solution to all my troubles was to go out and buy myself a Harley-Davidson. I have no idea why I bought it, but I found myself consciously pretending that I wasn't having a mid-life crisis - indeed, that it was perfectly normal for a man of my age, experience and responsibilities to go and do just this, it was back to an old mantra that has dogged me all my life: it seemed like a good idea at the time.
There were a couple of other issues I had not quite thought through properly. For instance, I had not ridden a motorcycle since my teens; I had no motorcycle licence; and I knew I was the epitome of the middle-aged biker trying to recapture his lost youth. I was trying to make my mark in life, which to all intents and purposes might probably be a hideous bloody mess at the first road junction that I came to.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p14
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 06, 2015, 09:45:26 AM
Our family house was surrounded by farmland and I rode for hours with my Jack Russell terrier balancing on the fuel tank. I loved that BSA, but there was another motorcycle that had already caught my young eye in the form of my stepfather's Triumph 750cc Tiger. It was definitely off limits to a teenage boy, but I seized my chance one weekend when my stepfather and mother went away leaving me in charge of the house, some fine classic cars and the motorcycle.
My stepfather rarely used the Triumph but I found it fascinating. It looked fast just standing still and was painted in metallic orange that sparkled seductively in the sunlight - a splendid combination of speed, amazing looks and danger. That weekend I decided I would try to ride it. No insurance, no licence and absolutely no on-road motorcycle skills: the perfect combination for an idiot teenager. And it was the start of that mantra - it seemed like a good idea at the time.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p15
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 07, 2015, 08:50:27 PM
My motorcycle, being all black, was heating up nicely in the fiery desert sun. The matt paint was absorbing all the sun's rays while the air-cooled V-twin engine, which relies on the bike being kept moving to remain cool, was slowly cooking the lower part of my body.
I had also learned early on this trip to read the road signs. In a car I tend to ignore the suggested cornering speeds at the side of the road. On a motorcycle they are invaluable. The road surface through the desert was excellent, but it had some odd cambers that threw you off balance in the middle of a corner. I really had to begin concentrating and spend less time admiring the landscape.
The bug population seemed to have increased dramatically and my screen was now awash with debris and the remains of insects. I was having a hard time looking through all the blood and guts that were smeared across it, and I found the only way I could see the road ahead was to stand up a little on my bike's footpegs and peer over the top of the windshield.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 08, 2015, 01:02:21 PM
It was also freeway riding at its worst for me. My hands were numb again from a combination of the engine vibration running up through my bike's frame and still holding on to the handlebars too tightly. I couldn't feel my fingers, which made it difficult to use the brake and make turning signals, and I was constantly being buffeted by hot gusts of turbulent air as trucks and cars tore past me. I just hung on to my motorcycle for dear life for the next two hours as we headed towards Yuma and Arizona.
Right behind me was Anne. She had absolutely no problem with freeway bike riding and was running rings around me. If she was frustrated with her scared and pathetically slow husband she didn't show it, instead keeping up a constant conversation via the intercom on things that she had just seen or wanted me to look at as we rode along.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p64
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 09, 2015, 08:12:43 AM
The gauge had gone rapidly from an optimistic 150-mile range to just 70 miles in the space of 20 minutes. And I was sure there was at least another 90 miles to ride until I stood any chance of being able to fill up the tank again. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I have an unquestioning faith in modern technology and while my Harley-Davidson had not let me down I was beginning to discover that its fuel gauge had some serious estimation problems. I had been too trusting of its abilities. It's always tricky trying to guess how much fuel you have left in a motorcycle tank, and if you take the fuel cap off and peer inside you can't see anything except a black empty hole.
I began playing out scenarios in my head as to what I would actually do when it finally spluttered to a halt, literally miles from anywhere, watched by the opportunistic vultures that were waiting for an easy meal like me. You can die in the desert out there in Arizona and I had, of course, forgotten to pack any water. It was mid-afternoon and the temperature was well into the upper 90s. If I stopped I would use up precious fuel restarting. Despite the intense heat I was starting to break into a cold sweat. I was very concerned.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p76
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 10, 2015, 09:57:26 AM
Every morning, when I swung a leg over the motorcycle, was like the start of a new adventure. It may sound a bit of a cliche, but I found the thought of the miles ahead and what I might find there a very exciting prospect. I had grown in confidence on the bike and now, with close to 2,800 miles on the odometer, it was feeling a lot more comfortable to ride. Something had gelled. I wouldn't go so far as to say I was at one with my bike, but I definitely had a better understanding of how to ride it. Consequently, I had relaxed my grip on the handlebars and was starting to lose the numb sensation in my hands so that I found I could actually steer and ride better. Who would have thought it?
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p94
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 11, 2015, 08:52:18 AM
The one thing I could not find a solution for were the bike's standard 'mini-ape' handlebars. On our previous long trip the riding position had killed my arms, and for some unfathomable reason whenever I rode on interstate freeways there was such bad vibration that my hands and arms went completely numb so I could barely tell if I was touching the indicator buttons or squeezing the brakes.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p117
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 12, 2015, 09:05:45 AM
I had read somewhere on the internet that by taking off a few bolts and moving things around I might find a more comfortable riding position so, armed with a small Allen key, I started undoing a few things, thinking how easy this was going to be. When the entire top end above the bike's forks fell backwards with the mirrors resting on the tank and the indicators pointing at the sky I realised I was out of my depth. Again. I had created a motorcycle that looked as if it was controlled by a handle from a baby's pram. Furthermore, if I adopted this interesting steering rake, I would have to lie stomach down on the bike's fuel tank with my legs stretched out behind me, unable to reach the rear brake or gear shifter.
I also appeared to have an extra bolt that did not fit anything and what looked to be a very important cable was now pressed hard up against the fuel tank. It was a mess. What had taken me four minutes to take to pieces took the best part of two hours to put back together again and even now I am not sure what that extra bolt was for. But I still carry it around in my pocket today, just in case I should ever need it.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p118
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 13, 2015, 09:01:04 AM
I have lost count of the number of times I have been asked the question 'Are you riding a motorcycle?' in the US, when I am standing before the person in full motorcycle riding gear. The sarcastic English streak in me always wanted to reply in the way I wished I could have done to Pat – “No, I am an exceptionally nervous passenger and the only way you will ever get me to ride in a car is for me to wear a leather jacket, big boots, gloves and a crash helmet” - but of course I didn't have the gumption, and took the lower road with her. She was much larger than me anyway, and she had tough look in her eye. I just nodded and mumbled and said that I hoped the weather was going to hold out for me.
Pat's reply was perhaps unexpected: “The weather ain't nothing. What you have to look out for is the 26-mile mark out there on the highway. That's where they always go down on their bikes. It's very dangerous, real twisty, and it's also annoying for the emergency services as it's midway in the county and it can take a long time for them to get to you and then scrape you off the road.”
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p161
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 14, 2015, 10:25:10 AM
My confidence on the bike was at an all-time high when I was out on the open road. Mile after mile of straight roads stretching ahead through empty places were an absolute breeze and a pleasure, embodying to my mind what motorcycle riding is all about. There was a constant sense of freedom that I had never experienced in any other walk of life; not even the expensive Ferraris or Aston Martins that I'd driven ever came close to the way a motorcycle made me feel.
It wasn't even a question of speed -I have paid the price for driving too fast in a car both in court fines and in personal injury. A good steady 70mph on my bike was more than sufficient, giving me the opportunity to focus on riding the machine well and concentrating on the road ahead, which cleared my mind. But every time I returned from the vast open spaces of the US to more populated areas my brain went into overload. I couldn't cope with the traffic signals, the other vehicles, or pedestrians and intersections. It completely fazed me, after eight hours on open roads, to be thrust back into everyday town traffic and have to locate the nearest motel. I forgot to look over my shoulder when overtaking, became a nervous twitchy mess and went back to riding like a beginner.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p180-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 15, 2015, 08:04:27 AM
I am a bit of a sceptic at heart and have never felt inclined to give names to mechanical objects or refer to them as 'her' or 'him'. Nor did I believe all the stories about bonding with your motorcycle. Lots of people had told me about how attached they had become to their bikes for various reasons and how they could never, ever bear to sell them. I liked my bike very much the day I bought it, but I felt then that I could quite happily sell it for another. After all, it was just a motorcycle - a means of transport, albeit a fun, exciting and sometimes downright dangerous way of getting about.
But something strange was happening. I definitely looked at my bike in a different way in Idaho. I felt more comfortable and at ease with it now, with several thousand miles behind us. I knew its limitations and it clearly knew mine, it had taken me up mountains, across vast plains and through deserts and it had been 100% reliable.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p218-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 16, 2015, 08:51:32 AM
There was a proper 'biker bar' in town called the Sage Brush, though, with darkened windows facing Vale's Main Street and motorcycle paraphernalia up on its walls. A number of motorcycles were parked outside. The bar was staffed by a friendly woman who appeared from a multitude of different doors every few seconds as she moved furniture around the bar, served drinks, cooked food and talked everyone who came in. She insisted on giving me a ton of literature about local motorcycle enthusiast groups and bike rides; I didn't have the heart to tell her I had no intention of passing this way again for some considerable time.
There was nobody else in the bar except for a trio of motorcyclists from California, among them a loud, annoying woman who seemed very pleased with herself. She had spotted that our bikes were from California too and she started to interrogate me about what I was doing there, but she quickly lost interest in me when her meal arrived. She and her two male travelling buddies were to reappear after lunch as we rode alongside the beautiful Malheur River on Highway 20, overtaking Anne and me three times at crazy speeds as if to show they were extremely proficient motorcycle riders and we really should pay attention to them.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p226-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 17, 2015, 08:56:02 AM
I have found that in my time riding in the US there are two clear groups of people. The first lot know nothing at all about motorcycles and, perhaps understandably, they don't need to know about them or even care about them. Then there is a second group of people who also seem to know nothing about bikes or riding apart from the fact that they do know of someone who was fatally injured, dismembered, suffered brain damage or had some truly frightful injury inflicted upon them because they chose to ride on two wheels. Not once has a single member of this latter group ever told me a great story about someone they knew who had a tremendous motorcycle ride across an empty desert, or rode up a lonely mountain road, or just went out for a ride and still came back with their limbs intact.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p234
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 18, 2015, 08:52:08 AM
PCH was literally dug into the side of the California cliffs in the 1930s, and as well as hugging the coast it has some fantastic bridges spanning deep canyons that run into the ocean. It was extreme nature spanning deep canyons that run into the ocean. It was extreme nature at its very best. I had never seen a road like it and it was certainly one of the best I had ever ridden - dramatic scenery, craggy shorelines, crashing ocean waves that are so close you feel you could reach out and touch them, and an empty, fast, twisting road that compelled you to ride faster and faster. It ticked all the bike-riding boxes for me and was a superb few hours of riding. I had to stop every 20 minutes to pull into lay-bys just to peer down at the Pacific Ocean and try and take in all this astonishing scenery. It really was nature gone wild.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p251
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 19, 2015, 09:22:27 AM
Anne slammed on her motorcycle's brakes and I could hear her shouting in surprise as she slid towards the pavement, but she managed to bring her bike to a halt without hitting the Mercedes or some nearby pedestrians waiting at a crossing. It was a very close thing and I was incensed - so angry, in fact, that I went charging after the Mercedes driver. He whipped past me, back into the left-hand lane, and tried to get away. I began shouting profanities at him while chasing him up the road, and then the traffic lights turned to red and he had no option but to stop. He looked very sheepish, and was clearly trying to avoid eye contact with me, but he had left his passenger side window down.
“You idiot!” I shouted. “What the hell were you thinking? Didn't you see that motorcycle? Why did you pull out like that without looking?”
I was furious on two counts. First, because he had nearly knocked my wife off her motorcycle, but second, because we had spent the past few months riding through eight US states on some wickedly dangerous roads, covering many thousands of trouble-free miles (although I'd caused a few problems) only to get almost within sight of our house for something as stupid as this to happen.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p255
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 20, 2015, 09:02:34 AM
The Mercedes driver was a young guy, about 30 years old. He looked across at me and said: “I'm really sorry, dude. I didn't mean to do that. I'm in a hurry and J am really late. I am though really, really sorry. Please don't make this out to be a big deal.”
I got a glimpse of myself in one of my bike's mirrors. I had six weeks' worth of beard, I was filthy dirty on a great big black Harley- Davidson and I looked very angry, even to me. Heck, I'd be sorry if I saw myself in my rear-view mirror coming up the road and shouting and cursing.
“Well it is a big deal,” I said. “Use your frigging mirrors, man, if you are going to pull out like that. Just don't drive around without looking. You could have killed her.”
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p255-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 21, 2015, 08:26:47 AM
If I'd been in a car I would never have seen some of these things or met some of the people we encountered along the way. From the saddle of my motorcycle I got to see, up close and personal, the real, raw beauty of the American landscape and it's far, far better and more diverse than anything you will ever see on film or in a photograph. I'll remember those broad horizons, staggeringly beautiful mountains and the silence of the deserts for the rest of my days.
I also learned to ride a motorcycle just a little better. If I could just get those right-hand corners sorted I might find I'd stop going round and round in left-hand circles all the time. As I pushed my bike back into my garage in Santa Ana, California, at the end of the final leg of our journey, I stopped for a second to take a look at it.
It was really dirty. It was absolutely covered in layers of road grime and dead insects. And so was I. In the twilight of that Californian evening I started to think to myself that I could do that road trip, every single mile of it, all over again, beginning tomorrow morning.
There And Back Again To See How Far It Is Tim Watson p257-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 22, 2015, 01:07:31 PM
The road over the Andes doesn't disappoint. Around every corner (and there are plenty of them) there's a vista that takes our breath way. Brian is thriving on it and there's no chatter between us. Brian is at one with the bike and I relax into the groove.
Brian: This magnificent piece of road is as I imagined it would be. The road surface is just about perfect. The bike's handling the tight corners so well I forget that we're fully loaded and would probably tip the scales about 500 kilos.
There's snow on the peaks that tower above us as we take on the 50 or more switchback corners. Looking back down into the valley the trucks look like toys, slowly making their way up the Andes. It is truly amazing. As we head higher and higher the temperature drops from mid 30°C down to a comfortable 21°C.
The Cristo Redentor Tunnel that takes us to the border between Chile and Argentina is 3,080 metres long. At the Los Andes Paseo Libertadores, the mountain pass, we're more than three kilometres high, remarkable when you think Mt Kosciusko, Australia's highest peak, is about 2,228 metres.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p15
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 23, 2015, 09:05:31 AM
Last night the wind howled across the desert but just as dawn breaks there's an eerie silence, as if Mother Nature is taking a break. Today will be tough so we want to hit the road early. Just as we're getting dressed, the wind picks up again and keeps getting stronger. I soften the front suspension dampening, which will hopefully make the bike soak up the corrugations. I also let some air out of the tyres to allow them to grip a little more.
The wind is gusting and continually tries to push the bike into the loose stones. You get used to the front end skipping sideways. I try pick my way through as best I can but get caught out every now and then. We pass a tip truck, its trailer blown over onto its roof. We take a break and rest behind the only poor excuse for a tree we've seen for over 250 km, have a bite to eat and get back on the bike. Just standing in the wind is tiring so we might as well push on.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p28
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 24, 2015, 09:11:17 AM
It's a normal work day so Avenue 9 de Julio is teeming with traffic. Negotiating it and the city's system of by-passes, freeways and tollways is a little tricky and stressful. We get bamboozled, even with the GPS, and end up going on and off the tollway and then back on again when we miss a turn.
Eventually we find Dakar Motos in a tiny, leafy street in the suburbs. Plenty of travellers begin or end their South American odysseys here. Javier is big, powerful man who's ridden many of the roads we're travelling. Sandra, his very glamorous Mrs Fix-It wife, helps travellers through the bureaucratic maze of shipping bikes in and out of the country. They even offer a bed and a hot shower. Their generosity to total strangers is a lesson to us all.
There's no rushing to get things done here. Everything works on Argentinean time. There are breaks to chat with friends, or sip on a Mate (pronounced mar-tay), the herbal tea concoction that so many constantly drink in this part of the world. It's an acquired taste that we don't acquire.
Javier changes the tyre by hand, using the side stand of another bike to break the bead, then three tyre levers. Putting the tyre on is a real struggle, and it takes Javier, his son and I wrestling tyre levers to get it mounted in the correct position.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p58
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 25, 2015, 12:27:14 PM
Negotiating the border with the motorcycle is easy. After the obligatory photo at the Argentina, Brazil and Paraguay border we head to the border post. It's a drive-through - just like McDonalds.
Within minutes we're riding across the bridge spanning the Iguazu River. The border is in the middle: one side is painted with the Argentinean national colours of blue and white; the other side is in the Brazilian national colours of yellow and green. Theoretically you shouldn't stop in the no man's land between borders but we can't resist this majestic river and the multi-coloured bridge.
 Now we're in Brazil the only map we have is the one in the Lonely Planet’s guidebook. Luckily our hostel is in the same street as the Paraguayan Consulate so I manage to get there without a hiccup.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p76
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 26, 2015, 09:11:12 AM
We know we're high in the mountains but we're not sure how high. This is altitude sickness for sure. The pass over the Andes to Mendoza was about 3,500 metres and we both handled that well. This must be higher.
In the restaurant we meet Pepe and Valentina who are riding their single-cylinder BMW 650. They don't speak much English but we work out they're locals taking a short break to Machu Picchu. I notice they don't seem to be having any trouble with the altitude and let us in on their secret - coca leaves. Valentina kindly gives me some and shows me how to roll up a leaf and put it under my tongue. You don't chew it or swallow it. Your saliva breaks down the leaf and you swallow that.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p86
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 27, 2015, 08:56:31 AM
The road to Bolivia takes us into the foothills of the Andes and back through the valleys to the coast. It twists and turns and requires some concentration. I love these roads.
Back on the coast we get to Arica and find the on-site parking promised by the hotel is actually in a building site on the corner. I just stand back and let Shirl take on the staff in her monosyllabic Spanish.
 'Parque aqui,' (parking here) she says determinedly. 'No, parque esquinal (No, parking on the corner) is the reply. She's not going to back down. Finally the owner is called and organises for the bike to spend the night at a parking area across the road that'll be locked at dusk. I'm impressed with her negotiating skills, considering it was all done in Spanish.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p94
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on March 27, 2015, 07:06:12 PM
Loving the stories Biggles, keep 'em going please.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 28, 2015, 05:10:02 PM
A lone black dog trots along the side of the road, his matted fur covered in snow. He doesn't seem to notice. My left hand is so cold I can't feel my fingers. The right one is constantly on and off the throttle so the blood's still circulating. It stays like this for a good 50 kilometres and there's nowhere to stop under shelter, so we push on.
The front of the bike slides out on an oil patch on the slippery road. I save it, but strain my back. I guess a strained back is better than sliding down the road.
A bit further on I dodge a pothole big enough to do some real damage to the front wheel by crossing onto the wrong side of the road in a hurry and we slip again. One thing about the riding here, there's never a dull moment.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p113
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 29, 2015, 01:12:00 PM
After spending a day and a half at Bogota airport trying to organise the bike we arrive at the passenger terminal convinced this will be a breeze.
We get called up to the check in counter only to be told that can't get on the plane because we don't have a ticket out of Panama. Of course we don't. We have a motorcycle in Panama and will be riding out of the country.
The very pleasant young lady behind the counter is adamant. The fact we have a motorcycle in the freight terminal, and probably on this very flight, accounts for nothing. We still have to have a plane ticket out of the country. It is something to do with travelling on Australian passports.
Oh, you've got to be kidding. I'm angry. I get pissed off. I shout. I cajole. I demand to see the supervisor. The supervisor tells me she's rung Panama and they tell her we may be refused entry to the country if we don't have a ticket to leave.
No matter what I say they will not budge. Shirl goes and buys two tickets from Panama City back to Bogota. I hit the roof when she tells me they cost $800 until I find out they're fully refundable.
“Thank you, Sir. That's perfect.”
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p139
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 30, 2015, 08:28:11 AM
We've battled plenty of borders with our very average Spanish. When Rae, our taxi driver who speaks English, offers to help us through the customs process for a few extra dollars we readily agree. It turns out to be money well spent.
The airport freight area is a jumble of small buildings and warehouses with no signs. Without Rae's help it would have taken ages to find the customs and freight offices, let alone get the paperwork done. The bike is brought out and I try to start it. It won't kick over. I can't believe the battery is flat after just a couple of days. There's no option but to try and push start it. I get a run up on the driveway and the Woody thing overbalances. Next thing I know it's lying on its side and Shirl is running towards me, panicking.
 The bike is fine and I'm fine, but a little mystified. I didn't need to disconnect the battery for the flight. Then it dawns on me. I put the kill switch on when I lodged it at Bogota. It's something I rarely do. How embarrassing. A flick of the switch and it starts first time and we're on our way to the petrol station.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p141-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 31, 2015, 08:59:24 AM
There's a fair bit of lightning about while we have dinner, but rain. We need an early night after organising a wake-up knock on the door at 3.45 am. We've been asleep for a while when the rain comes, by the bucket load. The bike is parked right outside the room, but we can't see it from the window, the rain is that heavy.
We've been listening for a while when we hear an almighty crash. We get dressed, sort of, with just T shirts and undies to check it out. The bike was on rock hard dirt when we parked it outside the room this afternoon. That dirt is now mud and the bike is lying on its side against a stone fence. The bike has rolled forward making it difficult to undo the front of the bike cover. Once we manage that, Brian balances the bike while I get the disc lock off so we can move the bike. We shift it onto the stone path at the side of our room. We can't see if there's any damage, it’s pitch black and it's pissing down. We put the lock and cover back on and go back to bed, listening to the rain until we eventually fall asleep.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p155
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 01, 2015, 10:57:34 AM
Brian is getting sick. He has an ear infection and a sore throat. It's been a long six months on the road. We've had long days on the bike. The roads are not great, the maps are not great and the bike is heavy. All in all there's a lot of pressure on him. Because of the weight in the bags I can't help him repack the bike, so he ends up doing that everyday too.
After months of battling with the language, the bad roads and bad drivers, we're both looking forward to getting to the US. Just about every town in Mexico is guarded by speed bumps every 10 or 20 metres. They slow us down and they're not good for the bike or Brian's good humour. Each one seems to be a different size and design and they're in different states of repair and disrepair.
While Brian sleeps I check out Monterrey, our destination for the final run to the border. On the Trip Advisor website there's a travel warning. Foolishly I click on it. It's a big mistake. The Australian Government warning is quite clear. Don't go there. In August, 52 people were murdered in the casino. They also advise travellers to stick to the toll roads and keep doors locked while driving. Well, that's helpful.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p163
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 02, 2015, 01:02:23 PM
Shirley: The wind picks up and now there's really nowhere to stop and put on our wets. The wind's howling and the rain starts to belt down. So much for skirting the storm. We have to pull up or we're going to get saturated. The wind makes getting our waterproof jackets on a real struggle. And then the rain turns to hail, hailstones the size of golf balls. They're so big they hurt when they hit.
We crouch down behind the bike but it doesn't help. Brian says should try and ride through it. It's as black as Hades and the hail is still pelting down. I try and tuck in behind Brian but that doesn't stop the pain. And it's cold, really cold, in the blistering wind. We don't get very far before we have to stop again.
The hail stops but the road's covered in ice a few centimetres thick, making it very dangerous. Brian picks his way through following tracks made by the cars and trucks ahead of us. He does an amazing job keeping us safe at times like this.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p174
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 03, 2015, 08:57:07 PM
Brian: There are 5,000 people at the Overland Expo and somehow we need to track down our Aussie mates, Ken and Carol Duval. They're on their second ride around the world. Ken's in his early 60s and still rides despite having two hip replacements. Carol thrives on life on the road and is the master packer. She's so good at fitting every little item onto their bike she holds packing classes. I'm wandering through a group when an Aussie voice says, 'Aren't you Brian Rix?' I don't expect to hear that, this far from home. It’s an older bloke, who tells me it's my fault he's here. He met us after our last trip and that encouraged him to get off his arse and travel. Now he's riding a bike around the US. Good on him.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p178-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 05, 2015, 09:30:41 PM
Shirley: San Francisco - what a city. Our hotel’s in the Cow Hollow area. We love the houses, the bars, the restaurants. We ride the trolley cars, wander along Fisherman's wharf, eat fabulous seafood and even take in a movie.
 We love San Francisco and what better way to farewell the city than to ride down Lombard Street, the world's most crooked street. It's great fun riding down the steep street with its eight hairpin turns. I get the feeling the driver of the car in front of us is scared we're going to end up in his boot. Poor Brian is being squashed against the tank because I can't help but crawl all over his back and push him forward, the road's so steep. It's a little discomfort for massive fun.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p187
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 06, 2015, 08:49:51 PM
(In Alaska)
Brian: We're cruising along about 95 kph on the lookout for bears. Apparently they graze beside the road up here. Ken and Carol are behind us. All of a sudden the bike starts to sag at the back end and then there's an almighty grinding sound, the back wheel locks up as the whole rear of the bike collapses onto the wheel. I'm sure we're going to end up sliding down the road. I grit my teeth, brace my arms and ride it to a halt, coming to a stop with a screech of things grinding and the back wheel locked up. I know it's not good before I even get off the bike.
 Ken pulls up and says, “Shit that was amazing! Bits and pieces flying everywhere! Have you blown a tyre? Is it bits of rubber?”
I wish it was that simple. When I look at the bike it's clear what's happened. The rear shock shaft has snapped in half, pushing the shock and spring into the plastic rear hugger I put on to protect the shock from mud. That's disintegrated and it’s bitten into the tyre. It's a bloody mess, to put it mildly. The whole rear of the bike is resting on the back wheel. It's something I didn't expect to happen; it's an Ohlins Shocker, the best money can buy.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p203-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 07, 2015, 09:23:58 AM
John wants to take us to the town of Whittier while we're in the area. Built on the other side of the mountain during World War II, the only way to it is through the rail tunnel - on the bikes. It's only one train track wide and 4.2 kilometres long. They open the tunnel up to the town on the half hour and back on the hour.
While we wait for the tunnel to open Shirl reads the safety leaflet. She’s a good worrier so this gives her something to worry about. John and I don't bother. She'll tell me if I do something wrong.
It's narrow, slippery and slow, but it's an amazing experience. I take the track between the rail lines, riding cautiously. A sudden rush of air gives me a hell of a fright and moves the bike around. It's the air duct pumping fresh air into the tunnel. I wonder if they're mentioned in the safety brochure. This is a real one-off experience. You don't get to ride a railway track every day.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p243-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 08, 2015, 11:12:18 AM
We ride the Needles Highway - a most incredible road that winds its way through pillars of granite, known as needles. It's a twisty road through narrow canyons surrounded by stone cliffs, pines and fir trees. One tunnel's a single lane wide. A couple of blasts of the horn before heading through and you hope there's nothing coming the other way.
I don't think it can get any better and then we hit the Iron Mountain Road, highway 16A. It's 27 kilometres of incredible road through the mountains and boasts 314 curves, 14 switchbacks, three pigtails, three tunnels, four presidents and two splits. The presidents, of course, is the view of presidents Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Lincoln at Mount Rushmore you can see as you ride out of one of the tunnels.
The tourist authorities describe it as an historical work of art. Some people might dispute it, but for a motorcyclist it's possibly the best road in the world. I know that's a big claim, but it's awesome.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p268
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 09, 2015, 08:55:46 AM
(In France)
Brian: The bitter cold and persistent fog make me realise we made right decision not to head to Turkey. Instead we go south to Spain for some better weather. Our first stop is a cafe in a little town just over the border. There are photos of motorcycle racing champion Carlos Checa on the walls. In broken Spanish I find out he has a villa nearby and often drops in for lunch, but not today.
 The sun breaks through late in the morning and it turns into one of those magic days on the road. The sun's shining; the road is twisty with very little traffic. We hit the edge of the Pyrenees.
There are plenty of tunnels through the mountains - two kilometres, four kilometres and five kilometres cutting down our journey time. It's not cheap, though - the longest costs €11 (over $16.00) - and we spend more on tolls than fuel today.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p295
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 10, 2015, 09:11:23 AM
We finally get the bike on Wednesday afternoon. What a palaver. It hasn't been damaged in transit, but it won't start. After using jumper leads to crank over the battery I remember that pesky kill switch. I forgot I used it - again.
Back at the hotel everyone is keen to see the mystery bike we've talking about for days. At last we can get on the road. It feels a little like leaving home when we finally ride out the gate.
First day on the road and the rear drive seal is leaking again. BMW's head office suggests we contact BMW Hillcrest near Durban. This is the eighth time and we've only ridden about 300 kilometres since the last fix in London.
The people at BMW Hillcrest are so helpful they even organise a B&B for us for the night. There's another Aussie at BMW, David Gow from Brisbane. This lanky biker is heading into Central Africa and is loping all the troubles that kept us from the north will be resolved before he gets there. BMW fix our bike for free, as a warranty job. They've been so helpful, Dave and I do the good Aussie thing and buy them a case of beer. Thanks.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p304-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 11, 2015, 09:39:33 AM
(On the Nullarbor)
The fuel consumption is over seven litres per 100 kilometres today and that just isn't right, even with a strong head wind. I put the bike on the centre stand and spin the back wheel. It should run freely and it isn't. It's sluggish, like the brake is on. I think we're in real trouble. I'm hoping it's just the constantly weeping rear drive seal and I'll be able to nurse the bike home by topping up the oil every day or so. The only way to find out is take the rear wheel off.
It's doesn't take much to unbolt the wheel and what it reveals is reality bad. The metal in the rear drive is scarred. It looks as though it's been white hot. That's not good. I drain the oil and can't find any metal shavings in it, which is a good sign. It means nothing's been grinding away inside the drive.
Shirl’s hovering around, trying to be positive. About the only thing to be positive about is she reactivated our RACV roadside assist membership when we were still in South Africa. I give them a call and explain the predicament. The operator says she'll get the local mechanic, who we didn't know existed out here in the middle of nowhere to come to the motel and check out the bike.
He pulls up outside our room about half an hour later. He's very laid back and has no hesitation offering his opinion. The bearing or universal joint is gone.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p339
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 12, 2015, 08:05:59 AM
Brian: I can't believe it. We're home and everything's pretty much as when we left. Have we really travelled around the world over the last 16 months? I sit back and let all the chatter turn into white noise. I'm lost in my own thoughts of a fantastic journey with my wonderful wife who enthusiastically embraced my passion and dreams.
Life on the road on a motorcycle isn't always easy, but to me, the adversities are far outweighed by the sights, sounds and smells. Your senses are alive. The people you meet, the camaraderie of fellow motorcyclists, are the icing on the cake. Before I get too old, where to next?
Shirley: This has been the most incredible journey. While I've suffered homesickness that, at times, actually caused me a physical pain, I've had the time of my life. I've missed family, friends and the comforts of home, but I've visited Antarctica, Galapagos, seen the bottom of the world and the top. I've seen bears, penguins, whales, seals, iguana, giant tortoise, elk, moose, lions, elephants, buffalo, monkeys, zebra, giraffe and much, much more. We've made lifelong friends and now we're home to catch up with old friends and family. Bring it on.
Circle To Circle  Shirley & Brian Rix  p343
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 13, 2015, 08:24:47 AM
"Does the ignition light come on?"
I looked. "No."
"Take out the bulb. It's probably blown." On the Guzzi, a blown ignition warning bulb will mean an infinite resistance across the charging circuit. In layman's terms, this means the wire (as it were) from the alternator to the battery runs through ignition warning light. Blown bulb means the charge can't reach the battery. This had been explained to me by a knowledgeable sparky some years ago. In 12 years the V50 had never blown a warning bulb. It had, however, fried both a stator and a rotor, as I reminded myself and him.
"Can you get the bulb out?" he asked.
"It's a hassle. It's difficult to get out, hard to put back. Can you just quickly check the front?" He sighed and got on his knees to run the multimeter over the stator and rotor. I sighed and stood up to undo the front of the instrument binnacle.
This is all okay," he said after a minute.
"This bulb is blown," I said a half-second later. He carefully extracted the blown bulb, put another one in, charged me $10, and I was off.
Once Upon A Distant Journey  Hendrik Gout  p17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 14, 2015, 08:46:56 AM
So now the bike is in Jack's shed. I'm taking a day off work tomorrow and I'll start the engine-out process. Meanwhile, I've got wheels. My mate Phil has a V50 Monza, but, because of a minor administrative matter, has allowed his licence to lapse until the heat cools off. Also his registration. Which meant there was an unused V50 in Phil's garage.
I was going to take my number plate and rego sticker off my V50 and put it on Phil's, but Jack said, "Oh, are you sure that's legal?" So I decided against it. I certainly wouldn't want to do anything of dubious legality. Instead, I put Phil's engine in my bike, also his frame and indicators and speedo and electrical cables and footpegs and gearbox and wheels and tyres and brakes and seat. And headlight and starter motor and swingarm.
 The only thing, in fact, I left on my bike was the number plate and registration sticker. So now I'm riding around on my bike again, although with all those changes, it looks a lot like Phil's.
Once Upon A Distant Journey  Hendrik Gout  p57
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 15, 2015, 10:29:44 AM
I would have asked her, but such conversations are difficult on a bike. When you travel with someone special as your pillion you often think of things you'd like to say, and then the scenery changes or the moment passes, and it's unsaid eventually forgotten. Certainly it's possible to slow down, lift the visors, and shout a sentence or two, but usually communication consists of a point with a gloved finger and a nodded acknowledgment. Yet there is something quite intimate about having someone you love on the back of your bike, and there's a level of communication that transcends speech, or even signals. There is a bond established, a bond of experiences shared, of sights enjoyed, of the senses in harmony. You even feel when your pillion's arse gets sore as they squirm around on the seat. And there's the joy of responsibility, of knowing the trust someone puts in you, knowing that you'll look after them and carry them safely.
Once Upon A Distant Journey  Hendrik Gout  p76
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 16, 2015, 09:01:39 AM
The track, of course, was dirt. Then we found it getting rougher and rougher, well rough. Then we saw a sign which said "Four Wheel Drives Only" in big red letters. We rode on past.
 And then the track got steep. Ahead of us was the steepest incline I've ever seen on a vehicular track. This was so steep you'd have trouble walking up it. I snicked it into first gear, gently held the throttle evenly open and the Guzzi began to climb ... and climb ... and climb.
 "Don't lean backwards," I said to Juliette. The bike was at an angle greater than 45 degrees. "I won't," came the voice from the back.
On and on and on the slope continued. Finally at last there was a cattle grid and the road flattened out for a dozen metres.
I stopped the bike.
Shit," I said.
"Yeah," Juliette said.
I sat on a rock and looked around. I couldn't remember having gone up such a precipice on my previous trip, but was still too convinced that I was on the right track to realise I was on the wrong track. In fact, I hadn't even gone down the track of thinking I was on the wrong track.
The mountains here were steep. One ravine dropped away out of sight. Eventually we got back on the Guzz and continued on. And on. And the track kept getting rougher. Then we saw a parked four wheel drive, its owners obviously off bushwalking. Then there was a barbed wire fence and a locked gate.
"Shit," I said to Juliette.
"Yeah," she said.
Once Upon A Distant Journey  Hendrik Gout  p108-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 17, 2015, 08:14:15 AM
Clearly something was amiss.
Almost certainly it was the uni joint in the driveshaft.
Now when these things let go, they let go in a big way. They fly apart at the same sort of revs, generally speaking, that the output shaft of the gearbox  does, and that's a lot. The disintegration of the uni joint is usually followed within microseconds by the pulverisation of the rear of the gearbox and collapse of the swingarm. This often results in the rear of the bike no longer being connected with the front of the bike except by the shock absorbers, and band aids are often required to be worn while ordering and then waiting for many expensive Monza parts.
So I wasn't taking any chances. I rode home slowly. I tried not to change gear often because of the snapped clutch cable. This meant I had to split the traffic, it being peak hour, and go at walking pace approaching red lights in the hope they'd change to green when I go to the intersections. I tried to keep the revs constant and the load on the back wheel even and unstressed all the way from the city to the Toll Gate at the foot of the freeway, then up the steepest longest climb on the entire national highway network, all the way to Aldgate. I stayed in the slow lane and hardly passed any trucks. I got to my little cabin in the forest and brought the bike to a stall (couldn't get it into neutral because of the absence of a clutch cable) to stop it at my back door.
Once Upon A Distant Journey  Hendrik Gout  p150
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 18, 2015, 04:56:40 PM
Then I had a stout, which I enjoyed.
 I took out the axle and removed the back wheel. I undid the shock absorber mounting bolts and the nuts holding the front of the swingarm to gearbox.
I pulled out the driveshaft.
As I did, the universal joint fell apart in my hands. Into many bits. I rang Thunderbikes and ordered a new driveshaft. Mario said I was very lucky. He said it was a miracle that the uni joint hadn't exploded and taken out half the gearbox.
But it wasn't a miracle. It was thrift. I like to get as much mileage out of my components as possible, down to the last centimetre.
But not a millimetre further.
No use taking risks, you know.
Once Upon A Distant Journey  Hendrik Gout  p151
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 19, 2015, 11:56:46 AM
Two in the morning, and I still couldn't sleep. Simon the Wonderful Cat was already curled up, chasing pigeons in his REM, but I was mulling over too many decisions.
So I took an easy one. I decided to go for a ride. It's almost a full moon. I rode to West Beach, on the Gulf St. Vincent, and then north along the esplanade, turned east at Grand Junction Road, and then the bike decided it wanted to show me it could still do a reasonable lick along a sweepy road. It took me to Mannum on the banks on the Mighty Murray, where the ferryman woke long enough to take me halfway across. I think he fell asleep mid-river because his head drooped and he hit the wharf-thingy on the other side with a clang which rocked the bike. South following the silver river, a hipflask of weak tea under a ghostly gum on a hugely high cliff overlooking a long bend on the Murray, hit the highway at Murray Bridge, and home again at a steady 120 kilometres an hour.
Where Simon the Wonderful Cat was still curled up. They lead good lives, cats. And welcoming as his purrs were, I had in this three hour moonlight ride seen something that might even have made him jealous and which gave me smiles – lots of corners, and ten thousand cat’s eyes.
Once Upon A Distant Journey  Hendrik Gout  p164
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 20, 2015, 01:59:37 PM
Hendrik's handy tips for your motorcycling enjoyment
Don't spray silicone on tyres to make them shiny.
Don't put grease on tyres to protect them.
Don't spray silicone on the seat just before a ride up your favourite scratching road.
Don't leave home without several licences.
Don't leave your PIN number with your motorcycle - it will know how to go to the bank and draw out money for new tyres, fix the indicators, etc. Don't forget to check the level in your hip flask before a trip
Don't drink and ride - pull over to take a sip.
Don't cross double lines, unless it's safe.
Remember, roads are a dangerous place to be. Always go as quick as possible so that you spend the minimum time in a dangerous place. That's logic. That's safety.
When riding in a group in inclement weather, always get one person to put on their waterproofs. That way it won't rain.
Always leave your helmet on in a service station - your face could be a security risk.
Take your gloves off in the toilet.
 Never say "Do you mind if I kick your bike over?" to a Hells Angel.
Never rev the engine hard and make a loud noise to wake a residential area at night, unless your motor is warm.
Remember that roads are slippery in the rain. Don't try to brake for an orange light.
Speed guns are dangerous. Get really angry if someone points one at you. Tell them it might be loaded.
Don't tow a motorcycle by the handlebar.
Don't worry when your motorbike won't start. It's probably just something.
If you have a nervous pillion, paint the inside of their visor black.
Objects in your mirror should always get smaller.
If you're freezing and shivering on a long trip, never say to yourself that this is the coldest you've ever been. In another five minutes you'll know you were wrong.
Never, ever go on a bike, and hop off before you've smiled.
Once Upon A Distant Journey  Hendrik Gout  p238
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on April 20, 2015, 05:48:44 PM
I like that last one. Should be compulsory.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 21, 2015, 09:22:07 AM
The traffic in eastern China is insane. There are literally millions of cars on the roads at any one time, and the frustration generated by the inevitable chaos is at least partly responsible for some crazy driving. As Colin and I rode out of Shanghai, our lungs were instantly filled with the smoke and diesel fumes that spewed out of the trucks crowding the road like the carriages of a colossal, slow-moving, and filthy train. The temperature  was rising steadily  and the humidity was high, which is fine when you're riding at speeds of 80 kph or more and the air is rushing in through the vents in your protective gear to keep you cool. It isn't so great at 30-40 kph. At whatever speed you're riding and on whatever road surface, you still have to wear all the gear, because you never know when you might take a fall. So, before long, I felt as if I was slowly boiling to death inside an increasingly damp, uncomfortable, sealed plastic bag, at the same time being suffocated by hot exhaust fumes and all the crap that was blowing up into our faces off the road.   
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p25-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 22, 2015, 09:29:15 AM
One of my main impressions at the end of day one was that the driving in China is wild.  At one point, we were riding on a four-lane highway that had dividing barriers at intervals down the middle. It sounds like a normal road, right?  Except that they have crosswalks for s small motorcycles, scooters, and   pretty much any type of farming vehicle.  When you're driving along the highway, you don't stop at these crosswalks: the people who want: to cross  from one side of the expressway to the other are supposed to pick the right moment. That's great in theory; in practice, however, they go when they want to go. I guess they just hope that you manage to stop before you hit them. It's unbelievably dangerous. And then there are the drivers who decide that they like your side of the road better than theirs, for some reason I haven't managed to work out.  So they cross over and drive on the wrong side.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p36
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 23, 2015, 10:07:20 AM
When we stopped for the first time on day 3 and were told by an agitated, arm-waving gas-station attendant to park off the forecourt, I didn't know what was going on. Handing us an oversized teapot, complete with handle and spout, the attendant explained that we had to take it to the pump, fill it up with gas, carry it back to our bikes, and then empty its contents into our tanks. Despite it sounding like something dreamed up by bored TV executive for a reality game show, there is a practical reason behind what he was telling us to do. The nozzles on gas pumps in China don't have automatic shut-off, so if you stick one in the small gas tank of a 150cc bike and it overflows, you end up with gas all over your hot motorcycle engine - which would constitute a fire hazard at the best of time, and particularly in a gas station. A car’s tank is bigger and the opening to it isn't near the engine. And it's different with an 800cc motorcycle, which has a 16-liter gas tank. But rules are rules in China, and no amount of arguing, explaining, or reasoning could change the guy's mind: If we wanted gas, we had to use the teapot.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p46-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 24, 2015, 08:39:56 AM
The riding was exciting but intensely nerve-wracking. Neither Colin nor I had ever ridden in conditions like that before, and I could feel the adrenalin pumping as we manoeuvred our bikes through an obstacle course of constantly shifting piles of sludge and rubble that formed on the road for a few seconds before being swept away by the surging water.
The only way to take corners on our bikes was very slowly, which was fortunate, because when we rounded one of them, we came face to face with what at first sight appeared to be the immediate aftermath of some devastating natural disaster. A few cars and trucks had stopped at random angles on the road and alongside it, and at first I couldn't work out what had happened. Then I realized that a huge chunk of the mountain had been dislodged by the cascading water and had come crashing down onto the road, forming a massive mudslide.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p72
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 25, 2015, 09:51:38 AM
He was probably riding at a fairly reasonable speed, but, in my role as big brother, I thought he was going a bit too fast. Colin's more reckless than I am - I don't know if he’d agree with that statement. I'd say that he's a risk-taker, whereas I'm more conservative. It's all relative, I know, and some people might be of the opinion that the fact that it had been my idea to ride motorcycles around China in the first place rather negates any claim I might make to being a conservative man!
Colin does like to move faster; not because he's impatient, he just enjoys pushing the limits more than I do. Or maybe my sense of caution is simply due to the fact that I know China, and I know that even if the road you're travelling on is great, around the next corner there might be no road at all.
Colin had just rounded a corner ahead of me when he hit some loose gravel and then a patch of mud. When I reached the same spot a few seconds later, it was like trying to ride on an ice rink. I only just managed to keep my bike upright, but Colin lost control of his and he went down. You can't use your brakes when you're riding a motorcycle in conditions like that. So I put both my feet down and slid with my bike through the mud. I did use my brakes when I'd stopped sliding, and then I turned the bike around and went back to where Colin was lying on the ground.
'It's okay,’ Colin called, lifting a gloved hand above his head. 'It's okay. I'm fine.’
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p79-80
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 26, 2015, 12:13:45 PM
'No foreigners allowed.’ The man at the desk raised his hand, palm outwards, as he spoke. 'The town is closed to foreigners.’
'What does that mean?' I asked him.
'It means that foreigners are not allowed to stay in this town,’ he told me. 'Only Chinese.’
I was usually the one who argued to get us what we wanted when things weren't going our way, but I was exhausted, and as Ted - who speaks flawless Chinese and was our translator as well as our driver - took up the case on our behalf, Colin and I sank onto the floor of the lobby.
A few minutes later, when it had become clear that Ted wasn't getting anywhere and I could feel the last remnants of my energy dripping onto the floor with the rain from my clothes, I suddenly lost it and snapped at the man behind the desk, 'Well, we're not leaving. It's dark, we're freezing cold, and it's pouring with rain. We've been riding for 3 hours in horrible conditions. I'm not getting back on my bike and riding another 100 kilometres to the next town. You don't want to be responsible for my death, do you?'
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p92
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 27, 2015, 09:37:19 AM
The police chief wasn't there to answer other people's questions. 'National security!’ she snapped at Ted. Then, glancing down at Colin and me, she added, in a voice that was slightly less unsympathetic, 'I can see that you're struggling. But you have to move on.’
When we refused again, there followed another heated discussion, and then the police chief phoned the mayor, who gave us permission to stay - for one night only and on the conditions that we ate at the hotel, didn't talk to anyone, didn't attempt to venture outside, and left, with a police escort, by 8 o'clock the next morning.
All I wanted was to be dry and warm again, and by that time I’d have agreed to almost anything. So we signed all the documents the police chief gave us, I handed my credit card to the hotel manager, and a few minutes later a shower of warm water was driving the numbness out of my body. It was probably 10° Celsius outside. That isn't too bad if you're just walking around, but it's very cold if you've been wet all day and riding a motorcycle, when even a cool wind can have a strong chilling effect.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p94
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 28, 2015, 09:54:49 AM
The security guards who pulled us over were clearly annoyed. 'Not allowed!’ one of them told us angrily. 'No motorcycles on the expressway.'
'I didn't see a sign at the toll booth,’ I answered. ‘I’m not aware of any law that says that.’
But the security guard was adamant. 'Follow us to the next exit,’ he demanded. 'And then get off the road.’
I tried to explain my point of view: that although the rule was sensible when applied to motorcycles with small engines, which can't go fast enough to keep up with the rest of the traffic on the expressway, 800-cc motorcycles can cruise along at high speeds quite safely. The men weren't interested, so Colin and I had no choice other than to follow their car as it pulled out into the traffic.
The speed limit on the expressways in China is 120 kph, but, for some reason, the guy was doing only 40 kph, which meant that we were being overtaken by huge speeding trucks whose drivers didn't notice us until it was almost too late and they had to pull out abruptly to avoid hitting us.
'This is too dangerous,’ I told Colin over our helmet sets. 'Damn it!' As I spoke, I pulled out, went round the security guards' car and took off, with Colin right behind me. I hadn't even thought about how - or whether - we were going to get away with it. Fortunately, they didn't follow us, and there were no more road blocks on the expressway.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p100-101
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 29, 2015, 08:23:49 AM
There were highlights to the day, the main one for me being the sense of peace I had when we stopped for lunch and watched a Uyghur man rolling out the dough to make naan bread in an oven. Another was talking about motorcycles to some Uyghur men in a small village. And another was riding up towards the clouds until we reached a high pass through the mountains, 3300 meters above sea level, where I looked around me at the incredible view with an almost poetic sense of accomplishment.
On the downside, we had a lot of problems with dogs that day. We'd be riding through an apparently completely deserted landscape when they'd suddenly come running at us, snapping and snarling at our heels and chasing our motorcycles as they tried to bite our legs. Once when it happened, Colin almost got caught: I don't even want to imagine what those dogs would have done if he'd fallen. I knew it was a problem that would get worse as we headed into Tibet, because I'd seen it there before, and that really bothered me.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p150-151
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 30, 2015, 10:40:30 AM
There's a vast world beyond the tiny fragment that each of us inhabits, and going out into it is the only way to understand other people, their cultures and religions: you can't travel and have the sorts of experiences were having without learning something from the interactions involved. We'd travelled 8000 km from Shanghai on a journey that was exhausting, exhilarating, frustrating, rewarding, scary, fascinating, and, most of all, a privilege to be taking part in.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p158-159
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 01, 2015, 09:34:53 AM
At the military checkpoint just outside Tashkurgan, one of the soldiers said, with a wry smile, ‘In the rain, on motorcycles: it isn't wise.’ But he handed us our permits and waved us through anyway, and we set off on what was to be a 260 km round trip. It was still raining and just 10° Celsius. Half an hour later, it was 3°, the rain had become frozen pellets of hail, and the temperature gauges on our bikes had started to flash a warning potential for ice on the road. After another half an hour, it was -2° Celsius and the hail stones were the colour - although not the consistency - of snow.
I can't even begin to describe what it's like riding in a hailstorm at -2° Celsius, 5000 meters above sea level. Colin and I are Canadians and we do a lot of skiing - quite often in the sun and always below about 2000 metres. There was no sun that day; just a bitterly cold wind and frozen hail. Riding a motorcycle in those sorts of conditions is a supremely miserable, uncomfortable experience.
 The visors on our helmets kept fogging up so that we couldn't see the road ahead of us, and our hands were so cold they were burning - the hand warmers on the handgrips on our bikes were only good to about 10° Celsius. Stupidly, we hadn't bought any of the really good waterproof clothing we'd seen in July at the shop in Germany, and as the wet seeped through our jackets and pants and turned to ice, we slowly lost the feeling in every part of our bodies.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p179-179
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 02, 2015, 02:17:00 PM
They taught us how to fall during the training course in Germany and told us, 'Aim to bit the ground with your shoulders, because that's where all the padding is. Never put your hands down as you fall: if you do, you'll bust both your wrists. Just hit the ground and roll.’ If you told ten people the same thing, maybe five of them would react correctly when the occasion arose; the other five would probably follow their instinct and reach for the ground with their hands. It all happens so quickly you don't really have time to think. Luckily, I did manage to hit and roll, so I avoided any really serious injuries: my shoulders and ribs were badly bruised, but I hadn't broken my collarbone.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p181-182
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 03, 2015, 01:12:39 PM
When you're riding off-road on uneven terrain, the back wheel of the bike slews and bounces all the time, and if you sit down, your spine takes every hit. So, to avoid the risk of breaking your back, you stand up and let your knees, hips, arms, and elbows act as suspension. After doing that for 10 hours, every muscle in your body is screaming, and when you get up the next morning and do the same thing all over again, a pain develops in your back and neck that's like no pain you've ever
experienced before.
On day 35 - our third day of riding on Highway G219 - we did 354 km, which is a serious haul over that sort of ground, and Colin and I began to feel more confident about our off-road skills. It felt as if we'd been battling the road and were finally beating it. All the riding we'd done since we left Shanghai had required little more than an ability to navigate; whereas what we'd been doing for the last 3 days had involved a different level of competence. We thought we were ready to tackle the Dakar!
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p196
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 04, 2015, 09:36:03 AM
The first clutch that reached us - after we'd been waiting in Lhasa for 3 days - was the one that had been sent from Toronto via Hong Kong. Now all we had to do was fit it! Neither Colin nor I had ever done any major bike repairs before and the work took us two days. We wouldn't have managed it at all without the help of the guys in Toronto who sent us pictures and told us what to do, and without the support and assistance we received online from the motorcycle community.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p211
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 05, 2015, 09:36:58 AM
I did a search for ‘F800’ clutch on a well-known motorcycle blog for adventure motorcyclists called ADVrider and, amazingly, came up with a complete DIY repair schedule. I printed it off at the hotel and when the guy from Hong Kong arrived with the new clutch, Colin and I put the pages on the floor beside us and followed the instructions step by step.
 I wrote a blog on the ADVrider site afterwards, saying that my brother and I were circumnavigating China on motorcycles and that the repair blog had saved our whole trip. The guy who'd written it, who goes by the online name of ‘Lost Rider', posted a response, saying that he'd seen our website and thought what we were doing was awesome, and that he was glad to have helped.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p211
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 06, 2015, 09:12:37 AM
A week earlier, we'd been on our way to Everest when we'd had to take a detour to Lhasa to get my bike fixed and hadn't known if we were going to be able to continue with our trip. We'd had to deal with frustrations, anxieties, and added costs, and then we'd had to backtrack more than 600 km. It had all been worthwhile, because it had led to the moment when I stood in the shadow of Mount Everest with my brother beside me. I was really proud to have made it there, despite everything, and I don't think there are words that can adequately describe the enormous sense of achievement I felt.
Colin and I have talked about that day many times since then, and we agree that it was the most exciting and challenging day we'd spent on the bikes, as well as the most memorable experience of our lives. It took us nine hours to cover 75 km of incredibly difficult off-roading at an altitude of between 4500 and 5200 meters above sea level. It's a road well never forget.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p229
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: ppopeye on May 06, 2015, 10:27:10 AM
I've got PMS. (Parked Motorcycle Syndrome)

I like them all. But this is specccial
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 07, 2015, 08:38:30 AM
The fact that I'm still happy after riding more than 500 km in the cold and rain must say something - I'm not sure whether it's something about resilience, cussed determination not to be beaten, a previously unsuspected tendency toward masochism, or the pure pleasure of riding a motorcycle through some of what must be the most gorgeous scenery in China. The landscape we rode through today was what I imagine Vietnam or Cambodia to be like.
The road was great too. It was possibly the most impressive example of road building I’ve ever seen in my life. Instead of winding its way around mountains via a series of switch-backs, it cut straight through them - bridge, tunnel, bridge, tunnel. Sometimes it was like riding through the clouds. The mountains are a lush green colour, and there are lots of tiny villages that seem to be suspended in  mid-air. It was a wonderful ride - apart from the weather.
The Middle Kingdom Ride  Colin& Ryan Pyle  p248-249
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 08, 2015, 09:30:45 AM
My father even encouraged the project, more or less on the quiet. In his youth he had undertaken a similarly crazy journey - two thousand kilometres through Italy to the Ligurian Sea in 1905 on a motorcycle with no gears and no clutch! Carburation, ignition systems, the starting mechanism and slipping belt drives were the technical problems of that era. But the machine was amazingly reliable.
Far greater were the troubles caused by whip-lashing coachmen, shying horses, stone-throwing lazzaroni (beggars) and biting dogs. But the sensation he created was colossal - for example in Bologna: “The hotelier had the machine cleaned up and when I came into the restaurant, there stood the motorcycle next to the table that had been reserved for me. The numerous other diners were crowding round the vehicle whose red enamel and shining nickel trim made a grand spectacle”.
My father described this sensational journey in various newspapers and it is delight to read of the patent starting mechanism, the ignition problems and of course, many tyre defects.
In the final instalment of this 'account of a modern motorised journey' we read: “I had covered nearly two thousand kilometres and climbed over five thousand metres. It was a pleasure to contemplate the miracle of technology which had carried me like wings over hill and dale and which had justly earned the official rating 'Perfect'.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p1-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 09, 2015, 09:13:21 AM
To this day I can't explain how it happened, but after only a few metres we ended up lying together with the bike in the ditch next to the customs house. The disgrace of it! I was horribly ashamed and the customs men were grinning all over their faces. Somebody muttered something about 'young fools' and a third party volunteered the following calculation, "It's sixty kilometres from Vienna to Kittsee. 13,000 divided by 60 makes 217 crashes. So you see," he opined cheerfully, "if this goes on all the way to India, there's not going to be much left of you.”
We gathered up our pantechnicon. It was so heavy that I couldn't get it upright on my own. Helpers and onlookers stood around with serious and sad expressions. I noticed at once that the forks were bent but I said nothing about it and we both reseated ourselves on the monster.
Amid hesitant calls of "goodbye" and "be seeing you", I got the machine moving and succeeded in getting out of sight of our friends without falling off again. Thank God, the India Expedition was under way.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p21
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 10, 2015, 12:21:18 PM
According to regulations, the Turkish military zone could only be crossed if we carried an armed soldier. We explained that, with our machine, this was impossible. We were promptly deposited, together with the bike, in the courtyard of an army barracks and abandoned like a suitcase in the left luggage office. After a few hours we gave in and realised that this was no way to get to India. We resigned ourselves to the impossible: a soldier took his place on the pillion and Herbert climbed up behind on the tent, and off we set, three up, bumping over the rough Turkish tracks. The strange load frequently threatened to tip over. My brow was bathed in sweat from sheer fear. At any moment I felt that the whole machine would break in half. I could not bring myself to consider such an ignominious end. "Did you hear what happened to those chaps who thought they could ride to India? Didn't even make it to Istanbul..."
 I couldn't let it happen. I gritted my teeth and drove the double load in first gear at full throttle along the dusty track. This went all right as long as the steppe remained level, but then it became undulating, and on the first rise, we stuck.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 11, 2015, 08:22:55 AM
The soldier was the good old-fashioned sort. His orders were to keep his eyes on us all through the military zone, and he intended to stick to those orders, however many days it took. Eventually we hit on a solution that suited him too. First, I would ride ahead carrying the soldier while Herbert followed behind on foot. Sometimes I'd go just a few hundred metres, sometimes over a kilometre, just as long as we could still keep Herbert in view. As soon as he was no more than a speck in the distance, the soldier would thump me energetically on the shoulders and point back suspiciously at Herbert. I noted with amusement that the fortifications hereabouts must have been massive but so cunningly concealed that we never saw a thing except grass and a couple of storks! But leaving Herbert too long to his own devices always ended up making our Turkish escort decidedly jumpy, so I would rush off and bring Herbert back under the watchful authority. Then the whole game would be played all over again.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p30-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 12, 2015, 08:57:15 AM
Istanbul is certainly a city full of curiosities. It is also the city with the worst road surfaces. If you haven't seen this, you can't begin to imagine it. You begin by cursing Istanbul's streets, then comes enlightenment, born out of sheer necessity: you ride on the tramlines. Some people are of the opinion that this is dangerous with a bike, but once the initial nervousness has been overcome, it works like a dream, providing that the weather is dry and that you avoid the points. I was very pleased when I learned how to ride the tramlines. It proved to me that I was at last in control of our monstrosity of a bike. Riding tramlines is a sport with a charm all its own - you glide along the smooth ribbon of steel as if hovering on air, gazing contemptuously sideways at yawning pits and holes a foot deep.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p33
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 13, 2015, 09:57:10 AM
A small incident provided us with another example of Turkish phlegm. I had been riding a bit too fast and the sudden appearance of a deep irrigation ditch proved our undoing. Over the verge we went, whizzing through the air in a high arc into a field of onions where an old peasant happened to be working. No damage resulted from the crash but it must have seemed spectacular to an onlooker. I ended up at the old man's feet and was able to observe him closely. The engine which had stuck on full throttle in the crash was making a hellish din. The peasant gave us a single bored glance but carried right on working and paid no more attention to us. Time and again we encountered this complete lack of interest, the very opposite of insatiable childlike curiosity, and it was quite hard to understand.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p38
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 14, 2015, 08:57:36 AM
Even before dawn the next day the temperature was already at a ferociously high level and the glowing red bail of the sun gave us the impression of some dreadful scourge. We made ourselves face-masks out of linen which we wore under the front of our tropical helmets, hanging down to our chests, with big round holes cut out only tor the eyes. Short trousers and sleeveless shirts also proved an agony the midday heat. Long trousers and long sleeves would have kept off the heat better.  Seeing the Bedouin going about muffled up to their noses like skiers in a snowstorm, we realised that warm clothing, especially wool, gives protection against heat as well as against cold. That's why in the heat one should put clothes on rather than take them off, but we were not yet wise to these desert tricks.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p48
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 15, 2015, 08:53:57 AM
It is an error to think of the pillion rider solely as a passenger. Much depends on him and on his state of alertness. Just like the man in front, he has to be constantly aware of the state of the ground. He must know by the sound of the engine how hard the machine is working in the sand, and whether it is going to make it or is liable to get stuck. The main thing when riding through sand is to keep up the momentum. The watchword is "Don't stop!"
Whenever Herbert noticed that the engine was straining at its last gasp, he would nip off behind and get pushing. He did it so neatly that I often didn't notice that he was no longer on the motorcycle. This resulted in half comic, half tragic situations. When the surface eventually grew better and I chanced to turn round for a quick word with Herbert, he would have disappeared! This meant that the good chap had been left standing far behind in the desert, sometimes many kilometres back, all alone and callously abandoned by his friend. As far as road conditions allowed, I would ride back, but Herbert had many a long walk through the desert. Then he would begin to revolt and say, "Why don't you let me have a go up in front for once? Then you can see how you like pushing and being left behind and having to traipse along on foot..."
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p51
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 16, 2015, 12:17:05 PM
Besides this, our hearts were set on actually sleeping in the desert. Night in the desert is overwhelmingly beautiful and can be described only with difficulty.
We stopped just where we were. The last explosions of the engine died away and an uncanny silence descended, but soon we got used to the lack of sound and enjoyed it. The ground was dry and we laid our sleeping bags in a hollow in the sand. A thin linen sheet was the only covering needed, not so much as a protection against cold as against venomous insects. Then we lay still. The sky was a gigantic hemisphere above us, the stars were brighter and more radiant than at home and the moon was almost painfully white.
The silence was so complete that we could almost hear it - paradoxical, but true.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 17, 2015, 11:49:17 AM
We had scarcely left the last workmen's huts of Hadithah behind us than we became aware that the storm was still too fierce for the safety of our two-wheeled vehicle. Things had not looked so bad from the window of the cosy bungalow.
It took all the power of the machine and my sense of balance to brace ourselves against the violent squalls that came at us sideways and several times forced us to the ground. Sand got into our clothes, mouths and noses and behind our goggles. It was a most unpleasant ride.
We struggled on for eighty kilometres to the oasis of Hit, in the course of which we frequently lost our way and because of poor visibility made several long detours. In Hit we stayed overnight in a miserable caravanserai and were thoroughly unhappy with our wretched surroundings. After abandoning ourselves to luxury with the British in Hadithah, we were bound to be discontented. There is nothing harder to bear than a run of good days...
The following day, to our enormous relief, the storm dropped, and high time too, for our eyes were sticky with sand and sweat and our bodies in torment from the thousand pinpricks of lashing grains of sand.
Our clothes were heavy as lead with huge deposits of sand in every pocket and fold. I had burned my left leg badly when the exhaust pipe came down on top of me in a crash. Because the machine was so heavy, it had needed all Herbert's help get me free again.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p65
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 18, 2015, 09:40:09 AM
I had got as far as picking up a pair of pliers, ready to prise the seals apart and dismantle the gearbox. I feared that the awful nerve-racking judder would start happening in first and second gear as well, and then it would be 'curtains'. All the same, I couldn't quite pluck up courage to undo the seals. Perhaps a miracle would happen after all. So we crawled all the way to Baghdad in the two lower gears. There was no miracle, but we did find the solution to the mystery. This solution was ludicrously simple and lay in a completely different area from the one I'd suspected. I'm almost ashamed to have to tell the story. As I was giving the machine a thorough check and clean-up in the yard of the Tigris Palace Hotel, I noticed that the back mudguard was bent and was clearing the back tyre by only a few millimetres. It must have happened as we were crossing an area of scree and had several collisions with large stones. At any normal speed it did no harm, as the back wheel could still move freely. However, when the tyre expanded in the heat and when its circumference was further enlarged at higher speeds in third gear by centrifugal force, then the blocks of the tyre tread caught intermittently on the bent end of the mudguard.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p78
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 19, 2015, 09:00:03 AM
While in Baghdad we had heard of another motorcyclist somewhere ahead of us who was also intending to get to India. This made me a bit uneasy, because can honestly say, hand on heart, that competition is welcome? I would not have been too pleased at arriving in India in second place.
I was naturally all agog to find out more. Who was it? What country were they from? What machine were they riding?
At the border between Iraq and Persia, where we were held up for a whole day, I had plenty of opportunity to make inquiries. From the local records I was able to make out that the man's name was Walter Tonn from Hannover, riding a 750cc Indian-Mabeco with a sidecar. He had crossed the border five weeks previously. He had a massive start on us. Would I ever succeed in catching up with Walter Tonn? It seemed unlikely. Our light motorcycle compared very unfavourably with his heavier machine.
I confess that this business irked me very much, but in the meantime things turned out very differently and I am sorry that I grudged Walter Tonn his five weeks advantage. We did indeed catch up with him, and soon. We found him, and yet we didn't. In Kermanshah we stood by his grave - he had died here of sandfly fever and typhus about two weeks before.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p86
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 21, 2015, 09:28:58 AM
The crisis affected us in various ways. We asked ourselves why we were subjecting ourselves to all this physical strain instead of staying comfortably home. Instead of risking our lives here under the burning sun in Persia, we could have been lying on a beach by a lake in our own country, with a nice girl. That would have been vastly preferable!
Thoughts like this are dangerous. Fortunately we recognised this in time and took counter measures to beat the crisis. This usually took the form of swearing at each other very violently by mutual agreement. We gave each other a thorough psychological shake-up: there was to be no weakening. Life must go on. Getting our grand destination was worth our best efforts. Gradually the fairytale quest cast its spell over us once more.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p87
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 22, 2015, 08:48:40 AM
I never cease to marvel at these Semperit tyres. It must not be forgotten that our 'pantechnicon' was being carried on the pneumatic tyres of a light motorcycle. We were really a couple of irresponsible idiots, running heavily overloaded tyres on Asian roads, but these were pedigree tyres! The inner tube on the back wheel was constantly getting holes because of all the nails and we worked hard patching it, but the outer tyre suffered no damage at all.
It seemed very odd that we did not get a single puncture on the front wheel, considering we went thirteen thousand kilometres through Asia. Whenever Herbert felt homesick, I used to advise him to take a lungful of Viennese air out of the front tube! He actually did this on one occasion, in the Baluchistan desert when we were finding the salt dust and the heat so oppressive. "That's better!" he said. I fetched the pump in order to refill the tube, and as I looked up I saw Herbert staring happily into the distance, under the calming influence of home. "You try it!" he said, and so I took a lungful of Viennese air too and all the hardship of our journey suddenly became easier to bear.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p98
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 23, 2015, 06:50:19 AM
A few days later the pernicious sandfly fever laid hold of me too. I felt as if my skull were full of hot molten lead. The optic nerves were affected and I saw everything through a red haze. Far off, everything was a mess of bloody purple.
 We often fell off and stayed lying there for hours. Once a Persian came by and helped us up. I was so feeble and was trembling so much that I was totally unable to pour petrol from the reserve drum into the main tank. The Persian helped it, then I just sank back into the roadside ditch. Thinking was a terrible effort, but sometimes I saw in my mind's eye that grave in Kermanshah where Walter Tbnn had made his last stop on the road to India.
No, no, no, the blood seemed to hammer through my brain
Somehow we managed to pull ourselves together and ride on. I can't explain how, but we did. We ate nothing, sometimes drank nothing for a whole day and then frantically lapped up another salty puddle. We seemed to be becoming less than human, but we rode on and on, as if in a dream, because we felt that it was only by constantly moving that we would beat the crisis. If we lay down, we were lost. Somehow, almost unconsciously, we even took a few photographs.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p106-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 24, 2015, 07:00:22 PM
What takes only a few minutes to read here lasted in reality for many weeks. I have been unable to give you such a detailed picture of this part of the journey as you might have wished, simply because this great crisis took us so close to the next world. There are borders with the hereafter which no pen can describe.
The missionaries looked after us and got us well again, except for the sal jek sores which take a whole year to heal; and then came the day when, full of hesitation and expectancy, I felt able to set my foot to the kick-starter.
Together again, dear little motorcycle! If it had had any idea how much it meant to us! I believe it did know and was overjoyed to have us back. Fate was being kind to our bike too, kinder than to Walter Tonn's Indian-Mabeco in Kermanshah. So, I thought, sing us your steely song again, carry us onward, on to the south, on to our heart's desire at the end of the trail. Now, thank Heaven, we were back in the saddle. The sandfly fever had been a bad business.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p107-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 25, 2015, 08:32:19 AM
It may have been some small consolation to our faithful machine to be surrounded by people whenever we halted at a Persian oasis. Here, the clean-up routine was completed without difficulty, since the strange vehicle was explored all over wherever the human hand could reach. What a wondrous race are the Persians! Their joyful child-like curiosity soon made us forget all our tribulations. They were particularly taken with the lovely red-enamelled Tyrolean eagle which I had mounted on the petrol cap as a mascot. They couldn't keep their fingers off it, and it really is a miracle that the Tyrolean eagle stood up to all that pulling and tugging.
During the Second World War the Tyrolean eagle and the motorcycle with it Iay in safe keeping in the Technical Museum in Vienna. It remained under the museum’s protection throughout the confused years of the Occupation, when some Russian or American might well have taken a fancy to such an unusual machine. My sincere thanks are due to the head of the Mechanical Engineering Department, Hofrat Dr Seper. These days I have the India Puch at home with me. It stands in my garage alongside eighteen other veterans. As anyone will understand, this motorcycle my favourite and the one I carefully maintain and keep in running order. It has to start on the first kick, as I have often claimed (and won bets with some who wouldn't believe me!). I ride out on the India Puch several times a year and it simply changes my outlook. As I like to say on returning from these excursions, "It keeps me young!"
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p115
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 26, 2015, 09:26:21 AM
We spent the night of 7th to 8th October in the shelter of a deeply eroded wadi. Our larder was looking distinctly bare, for we had been so well-fed at Badi Massud's that we had quite forgotten to stock up on provisions. You don't think food on a full stomach. We made supper off a tin of sardines from our iron rations and for dessert we swallowed a couple of quinine pills, just for luck. Quinine gives you buzzing in the ears, so you can't hear very well, but the stars in the southern sky made the night so magically beautiful that we were yet again perfectly happy in that lonely place. We didn't bother to pitch the tent, but just spread it on the ground and lay down on it, with the power of almighty God above us and the silence of the desert round about us. It was indeed a wonderful life, and how we thanked our stars for the privilege of such a great experience when we were so young. To be sure, there were many things on our journey which we could take in only superficially, but we did so with wholehearted enthusiasm. I do not envy Americans who slave away their entire lives in order to go round the world in their old age. For them, such a journey is the fulfilment of a life, but for us it was an education. It is only today I realise how much we unconsciously learned which can never be learned in school or college.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p134
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 27, 2015, 09:11:30 AM
Going by our maps and the distance we had covered so far, we estimated about another four hundred kilometres. That was going to be another hard slog and the motorcycle was giving me plenty of cause for anxiety. Because of our wild ride along the railway track and the constant bumping over stony ground, spokes in the back wheel had been snapping, one after the other remorseless regularity. Every morning I had a tricky time fixing the remaining spokes so that they were spread evenly around the rim, until my fingers were scratched and bloody, but it was no good. The back wheel was no longer round but was becoming more and more of an oval. Eventually I took nine spokes out of the front wheel and fixed them in the back. That was all right for another half a day but what would we have given lor a few dozen spokes! We would have exchanged everything we had on board, valued at several thousand Schilling, for a handful of spokes costing one or two Schilling, if only we had been able to buy them. But any shop selling spares was too far away to be readied.
We did not talk much during this time. Death was breathing down our necks, for, it the back wheel collapsed, we would be done for – finally done for. Herbert dragged himself for long distances on foot in order to take the weight off the machine. I drove as carefully as if I had had enormous eggshells on the axles instead of wheels, but it was all no good. The wheels went on getting squarer, and we waited from one hour to the next for the final collapse.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p149-50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 28, 2015, 08:31:45 AM
We were dead tired when we lay down at the roadside on a piece of flat ground and fell asleep immediately.
I must have been sleeping so deeply that I did not turn over very much, otherwise I would not be telling this story. I was awakened by Herbert grabbing my arm and hauling me vigorously towards him. His behaviour was enough to scare me, although I was still drunk with sleep. Could he have gone crazy? Anxiety was written all over his face and he kept holding me tight up against him, staring rigidly past me. Oh, I thought, a scorpion, he's seen a scorpion! Then I turned round too and looked where Herbert was looking. I saw immediately why I had thought for a moment that Herbert had gone crazy. He had that strange distant expression often seen on mad people of the quiet and dreamy sort. However, he was not mad: he really was looking into the distance. Two or three feet from where I had been sleeping, the mountain fell away vertically for several hundred metres, and below us lay the Indian plain spread out like a map. With great caution we packed up our sleeping gear and tiptoed softly back to the safety of the roadway.
India The Shimmering Dream  Max Reisch p164
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 29, 2015, 08:24:59 AM
The hardcore lover of motorcycles, the one whose head turns at every growing sound that promises a bike will soon flash into view, can't help it. There is a peculiar kind of motolust that inspires some people to fill their garages with bikes and the "pre-restored" carcasses thereof and still be unable to resist the next one they see that has a for-sale sign around its neck. They go away for a weekend of riding and come back with new friends whom they stay up with half the night talking of bikes and other destinations at which they will meet new people who will phone them the following week to tell of farther destinations. The calendar fills; the season is not long enough. The pocketbook is rarely large enough, for bikes, like boats, are black holes in the universe of money.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 31, 2015, 08:18:39 PM
I am a motorcyclist, and though I recognize I am not the "usual" motorcyclist, I also don't anticipate ever meeting one of those in per son. All I know is that over the years I have occasionally sat back and thought how strange it is that motorcycles can completely overtake your being and act as if they own it. Certainly nothing in my life before them- and certainly not my parents, whose own interests run to chamber music, books, gardening, art, and cocktail parties- had prepared me to fall in love with bikes. I had gone through prep school, college, graduate school without knowing they existed. Those years were filled with sequential or concurrent passions: horses, the Civil War, dogs, bicycling, photography,  poetry, the dream of true socialism, literary theory, and a couple dozen boys. I am still interested in all those things to some extent, except for the boyfriends, whose names I have largely forgotten, but the desire I came to feel for bikes eclipsed all of them, even though I still dream of having a horse.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p22-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 01, 2015, 09:00:48 AM
I don't want to sell my bike, which is another friendly suggestion I receive. I love riding- and although I can't say I love trying to look this damnable fear in the face, I realize the possibilities for self improvement. The bike has merely become the concretisation of the free-floating terror that lives inside me, and if I didn't have a bike, it would attach itself to something else. I would be unable to go to the grocery store, or make phone calls, or show up for work. I don't want my world to shut down any farther; I need it to open up, and a motorcycle does nothing better than propel one outward. A few years ago I started going through the travel and adventure section of the library, looking for books by people who did dangerous things, preferably again and again. I always found what I was looking for The autobiographies invariably carried a variation of the type of statement made by Sir Edmund Hillary, the first to climb Everest: "Fear is an important component of any challenge. If you feel fear, and then overcome it, you feel a special thrill." I was getting special thrills every time I went out for a spin.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p54
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 02, 2015, 09:02:50 AM
ELVIS PRESLEY The King was a devoted motorcyclist, much to the dismay of those with a financial interest in his continued celebrity- and to the delight of the savvy PR organ of Harley-Davidson, the magazine “The Enthusiast”, which often pictured him astride the Milwaukee product. In “Roustabout”, a supremely forgettable movie, Presley is a baby-faced rebel who hits the road on a shiny red "Japanese sikkle" (which he rides while singing) and joins the carnival. This 1964 flick is wonderfully resurrected in 1986's “Eat the Peach”, in which the bike-riding, down-on-their-luck Irish protagonists obsessively watch their favourite movie, “Roustabout”, until they hit on a plan intended to change their fortunes: building a Wall of Death in the middle of the depressed Irish countryside.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p81
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 03, 2015, 11:20:52 AM
ROBERT HUGHES Long the art critic for Time magazine and an unapologetically opinionated observer of culture at large, he is also an unapologetic lover of riding. In 1971 he published an essay in the newsweekly titled "Myth of the Motorcycle Hog." He tried to define the core of the experience:
Riding across San Francisco's Golden Gate Bridge on his motorcycle, the biker is sensually receptive every yard of the way to the bridge drumming under the tires, to the immense Pacific wind, to the cliff of icy blue space below... There is nothing second-hand or vicarious about the sense of freedom, which means possessing one's own and unique experiences, that a big bike well ridden confers. Anti-social? Indeed, yes. And being so, a means to sanity. The motorcycle is a charm against the Group Man.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p82-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 04, 2015, 08:43:57 AM
At the outset, with a solid mass of machinery trying to dive into turn one as if it were a single unit, relatively few risks are taken. Control and nerve. A bit more control and nerve than those other twenty-nine are showing. That's what begins the process that leads straight to the finish. Finally, since someone must take the lead, the rest of the field strings out behind, making it more possible to witness the concurrent intensification of the drive to win, to beat both the track and anyone else on it.
On and on they go. Twenty laps, thirty, shrieking by so fast in the front stretch that the spectators who stand at the fence are blown back, can't move their heads fast enough to watch them go by, so they pick one direction to look in and stay stuck to it. For their part, the racers are so precise about the line they choose that if it's raining you can see a five-inch-wide dry path forming, and no matter how many times they go around, a mile and a half later their tires will be exactly on that stripe each time.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p97-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 05, 2015, 09:18:55 AM
One has to suspect nothing but such compelling cause when so many racers are blurring down the course wearing splints, bandages wrapped tight to keep the swelling out of the way, broken ribs and foot bones, and disregarding doctors' advice and, on occasion, threats. Getting back into the ring is the only thing that matters, and most people would hardly believe the sacrifices made to do so. Grand Prix racer Wayne Rainey fell in practice before the 1992 season, injuring a hand that might have healed but not in time for the first race; instead, he had a finger amputated so he could compete. The next year his colleague Kevin Magee, with a similar injury, made exactly the same choice. Just before participation in the Mille Miglia claimed his life, the Marquis of Portago, a celebrated automobile racer of the fifties, firmed, "Racing is a vice and, as such, extremely hard to give up."
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p106
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 06, 2015, 11:13:03 AM
My motorcycle was very happy to be home. Franz would pull her up onto the lift in the back room and instruct me on whatever minor dismantling needed to be done. It was not lost on me that one trouble I had had working on my bikes at home was not having the proper tools; in Philadelphia I first felt the silken weight of a Snap-on tool, a true joy to hold. Once Franz looked over as I was extracting the oil filter from the bottom of the sump during an oil change, saw my right hand under a river of black oil, and said, "You mean to tell me you haven't figured out how to pull a Guzzi's filter and keep your hands completely clean?" Damn, I thought; changing the oil is about the only thing I know how to do well, and now he tells me I don’t. A few minutes later I came to my senses. I was such an easy mark. "There's no way to do it, you liar." He guffawed through his nose as he ran up front to avoid the dirty shop rag coming his way.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on June 06, 2015, 05:02:38 PM
 :rofl  Good one.  :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 07, 2015, 11:50:12 AM
If the glue that binds is Italian-made, there is sure to be more than one person cruising the rally site wearing a sweatshirt that states vivere per montare, montare per vivere ("Live to Ride, Ride to Live"), and it is not to be taken as a joke. Nor is the related sentiment expressed by one Moto Guzzi owner who affixed large bas-relief dinner forks to the side covers of his bike over the legend MANGIERE PER MONTARE, MONTARE PER MANGIERE ("Eat to Ride, Ride to Eat"). The pleasures of long-distance riding are inextricable from those of eating, and one heightens the other. It is partly a trick the psychologists call "excitation transfer," which makes even the raggedest diner chow seem exquisite, and you can eat lots, too, so long as you get back on the bike and let the wind and cold and stress of constant watchfulness burn it up for you.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p113-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 08, 2015, 03:22:23 PM
People continue to make epic journeys on two wheels because, like Fulton, they want a way to feel fully engaged with and even vulnerable to their surroundings. Many people feel free to come up and talk when you are on a bike; you have eschewed certain protections and shields in exchange for the fullest possible experience of a place. And there is the appealing athleticism of the endeavour- on a long trip across continents, you will get bruised, baked, and knocked about and be given plenty of opportunities to challenge your physical and technical wits. The resulting rugged experience has the effect of reordering one's priorities, making one look at the scope of a single life a little differently. It has much in common with camping (and indeed is often combined with camping) and with what camping can teach. Motorcycle journeyers would no doubt sense an echo of the familiar in what John Burroughs wrote early in this century in "A Summer Voyage": "The camper-out often finds himself in what seems a distressing predicament to people seated in their snug, well-ordered houses; but there is often a real satisfaction when things come to their worst, a satisfaction in seeing what a small matter is, after all; that one is really neither sugar nor salt, to be afraid of the wet; and that life is just as well worth living beneath a scow or a dug-out as beneath the highest and broadest roof in Christendom."
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p150
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 09, 2015, 10:19:54 AM
You may have to take my word for the fact that travelling by bike is superior to travelling by car. All right- I will allow that it's very, very different. Especially in the dark: the road seems to tilt ever upward, and you start imagining things. There will be rivers rushing in the blackness near the roadside; there will be a cliff looming overhead. You can ride into imaginative space, which is real travelling, because you are not anchored by anything. Look around. There is nothing between you and the weather, the smells, the colour of the sky. All impress themselves on your consciousness as if the ride had turned it to wet cement. And there they will stay, apparently forever, so you can recall those sensations with an almost frightening precision years later.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p151
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 10, 2015, 10:05:15 AM
For some reason, riding the interstates on a motorcycle confers automatic, if only temporary, membership in the brotherhood of truckers. Often in a car I've felt I was the sixteen-wheeler's enemy, annoyingly in the way of a proper eighty-five on a downgrade and chugging forty on the incline. But on a bike I've felt protected by trucks, given wide berth, leeway to pass, signals on the all-clear. Maybe it's because so many drivers are bikers too. Maybe it's because both vehicles become more like comrades than agglomerations of parts. Or maybe it's because everyone needs friends out there in the big bad world.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p151-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 11, 2015, 08:39:15 AM
They had one book, and it was one I did not yet own.
One Man Caravan, 1937. With a dust jacket. First edition. The author's signature on the flyleaf.
I was feeling poor that day, and I decided the twenty-dollar asking price was too rich for my blood. I carried it around the barn for two hours, then told the friend I was with I was going to put it back. He looked at me like the feebleminded wretch I was and took it from my hands and wordlessly marched to the cashier.
On the way home I started doing math in my head. If Fulton twenty-two in the early thirties, how old would he be now? Well, old. But it was just possible that he was living in the New York area.
 I called the publisher of the book, Harcourt Brace. It had on file addresses for the author current to the fifties, the last of which was care of an airline at an airfield in Connecticut. I sent a letter off into space, fairly certain it would land in the modern equivalent of the lead-letter office, and forgot about it.
But I can never forget, a month later, the evening before New Year's Eve. It was powerfully cold outside, which meant you could feel the frigid air with your hand an inch away from my apartment's walls; in the winter I became like a heat-seeking cat, spending much of my time standing next to the special old gas stove in the kitchen that provided the apartment's only warmth. I was pressed up against its vents, staring absently toward the windows I had ringed with little white Christmas lights, when the phone rang. The voice on the other end was strong and clear, and it said, "This is Robert Fulton."
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p155-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 12, 2015, 08:23:25 AM
I was encouraged to slow down only when I reached the Adirondack, whose trees and altitudes and gentle warmth made riding the perfect pleasure. I stopped for a root beer, from a brown bottle embossed with cowboys, and an ice cream cone, the kind of treats-from-the-past that are most appropriate to the area. I was growing about as relaxed as I ever got while travelling by myself, when I usually force myself to make a stop, even though my bladder had long been screeching for help or my stomach protesting its needs in minor sea squalls, and even then I would only pause long enough to get take-out sandwiches to eat in a few gulps outside on the kerb where I could be eye level with the Lario's carburettors.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p162
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Old Steve on June 14, 2015, 09:18:36 AM
I've started writing a book on my motorbike experiences and views.  So here's an excerpt from the first chapter for your entertainment.

"Into the second week that I’d had GLORIA, I was coming down a two lane hill after work, towards a couple of sets of traffic lights where the city by-pass goes over the urban roads.  I was riding in the lane closest to the centre white line because that was the lane which would eventually take me straight ahead towards home.  Because the traffic was bunched up, I was riding up just behind the driver’s door of the car in the inside lane.  Something made me nervous, young male driver, open driver’s window with an elbow hung out in the breeze.  It was an older car painted matt black, exhaust pipe the size of a large tomato tin, the base of the music being played on the car stereo was thudding from the door panels.  “Watch this one,” I thought to myself.  So my eyes flickered from the car in front of me to the driver’s hands on his steering wheel and the front tyres of his car.  Then suddenly, just short of the first set of traffic lights and with no indication of his intentions, his hands twisted the steering wheel and the car lurched sideways right into my riding space.

As I saw his hands start to move, I swerved and braked into the empty right hand turn lane beside me.  If I hadn’t moved I’d have been sideswiped and thrown off my bike into the path of the oncoming traffic.  The car pulled to a halt at the next set of traffic lights in the entry lane onto the city by-pass.  So I pulled up beside the open driver’s window and emphatically explained, using ancient Anglo-Saxon expletives, that he hadn’t looked to see if the lane beside him was empty before he’d turned into it, he hadn’t indicated before he’d turned, he could have injured or killed me, and that his parents were definitely not married.  Having delivered my road safety lecture, I thought that being right beside his driver’s window wasn’t the best place to be, so I walked my bike back behind his car where I could turn into the lane which went straight ahead.  I looked around me and there beside me in the inside lane was a lady driving a Toyota RAV4, with her window down.  She must have heard all of my discourse on road safety with the errant driver.  I looked over at her and said, “Sorry about the language.”  She looked back and said, “You tell him, he never (same Anglo-Saxon expletive) looked.”  Maybe she was a motorbike rider herself, or had a husband, brother, sister, son or daughter who rode a motorbike."

On my own Two Wheels, Old Steve
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 14, 2015, 02:07:34 PM
If ever I wish to test the elasticity of my consciousness by posing fundamentally unsolvable conundrums along the lines of "Try to conceive of infinity” I have only to recall the night I stopped at a highway tollbooth and held out my money. The toll taker, a guy in his twenties, fairly started blubbering. Finally he squeezed it out with incredulity in his voice: "Did you ride that motorcycle here all by yourself?"
Every woman who rides in this country has been asked that perspicacious question at least once, and some so often they now amuse themselves with thinking up commensurately smart rejoinders: "No, I carried it on my head." "You've heard of the Immaculate Conception? Well, it's sorta like that."
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p167
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 15, 2015, 08:22:55 AM
January 2nd only comes around once a year, thank goodness. This year, 1995, marks my 46th birthday, by itself no great feat, but it was also the day that I embarked on my 30th birthday ride! I began this tradition in Cleveland, Ohio, with a ride on my brother's Vespa. He was in Korea and graciously left it behind. I assumed it was mine to ride and simply told my folks that this was Jim's gift to me. I don't know why they believed me but they did. So I threw my leg over the ugly thing and rode until my fingers were nearly frost-bit. It was a personal celebration.
Over the years I rode BMWs, BSAs, Triumphs, Harleys, Suzukis, and Hondas of my own, plus friends' Yamahas, Harleys, and Kawasakis when mine weren't running or in those lean years when I didn't own a bike (never again). There were rides in the rain, snow, slush and sleet as well as beautifully sunny days. The temperatures ranged from very close to 0 all the way to the 60s. I’ve been healthy as a horse and ready to go and seen the other side of that coin, too. In 1987 I took my birthday ride on my R65 Beemer only a few short weeks after being released from the hospital for open heart surgery. That was definitely the most painful ride of the bunch but also the most inspiring. I knew I was alive and had never been so happy about it! My birthday rides have been as short as around the block (during a blizzard where you couldn't see ten feet in front of you) to several hundred miles in the northern snowy mountains of Iran where it was very cold, slippery, and scary.
As the sticker on the back of my helmet says, "Motorcycles saved my life." Again and again
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p208
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 16, 2015, 09:35:45 AM
Since I come from a family that found anything more technical than changing light bulbs a job for experts, my love of motorcycles is not mainly based on the engineering miracles that send others into raptures. And although I feel a fascination born of both envy and the exotic appeal of foreignness for those mechanically oriented souls who are fearless in the face of exploded diagrams and who have obviously divined the mysteries of tools, always in possession of the proper implement for any job, my kind of admiration starts from outside.
Thus, to me, some of today's Japanese crotch rockets look a bit too much like Mighty Morphin Power Rangers to command high aesthetic respect, not to mention the fact that they call up in me the vestiges of a vague childhood fear of toy robots. The genesis of their design can be traced back to Astro Boy; the mammoth tanks over which riders stretch like figures clinging to missiles, the impossibly wide rear tires, the squashed, biomorphic tails remind me of a sight from which I always recoil- the over-pumped, steroidal practitioners of obsessive bodybuilding. But they are a hell of a lot of fun to ride.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p216
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 17, 2015, 09:51:36 AM
When the sun is at the correct angle, your shadow races next to you as you fly along. The dark shape is your own hair streaming a mobile portrait in the medium of light on asphalt. It's a peculiar sight, but the start it gives is not like when you catch yourself in a mirror. This one is almost someone else, mysterious, featureless, perhaps even fearless.
 When everything is going just fine, you can raise your weight off the saddle by standing on the pegs and the air itself seems to carry you; the smells of countryside or suburb or industrial fief are immediately upon you, then gone. There are uncanny presences all around. Rotting pumpkins, manure, road salt, Spanish moss in humid wind, a scent like a million burning tires in the yellow sky over Newark, pine, oyster shells. Some will never get a name. Not half of them would reach you in a car, even with all the windows down. This weekend, for four miles, I had the odour of cigarette in my nostrils, from the lit end hanging out from the pickup truck ahead. Then again, some smells just tell you you are riding much too close behind.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p232
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 18, 2015, 09:29:30 AM
It is possible to feel more alone on a motorcycle than anywhere at rest. When you're sealed in your apartment, or even standing in a secret field halfway up a mountain, there is always the chance that someone could find you; someone could call, could spot you from a plane, could come walking up at any moment. Knowing where I can hide if necessary is always on my mind, and where else but on a bike is there somewhere truly safe to be? On a bike, there are people all around, in a car in the next lane not five feet away, but they can't get you. You may communicate with the friends who ride along by using signals, but you can't talk. You are spared the burden of words. There is so little privacy anywhere these days that this knowledge feels like the last available comfort, in the absence of knowing there is someplace left on earth not infected with Colonial brick houses or cut through by a new Wal-Mart's access road.
Your thoughts are pinned close to your head by the helmet, where they may exit only a fraction of an inch from your scalp but then stay to buzz around, thousands of little trapped sand flies.
The Perfect Vehicle  Melissa Pierson p233
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 19, 2015, 09:06:57 AM
Cast aside those western notions of traffic, where cars queue with bovine patience and bicycles glide down neatly painted lanes. The chaotic, raging torrent that barges its way through Hanoi's narrow streets is a wholly different beast. This is traffic red in tooth and daw; a seething, surging, clamorous cavalcade of man and metal. Lissom girls weave through the melee on Honda mopeds, their faces and arms covered from the sun, high heels teetering on running boards, Taxis career I all directions, horns blasting. Girls riding large old-fashioned bicycles wobble insouciantly between the lanes, pedalling gracefully at the same unhurried speed. With their conical hats and flowing black hair, they seem to float rather than pedal, oblivious to the hooting machines that flow around them. Women in their traditional non la, palm leaf, hats stagger under back-breaking yokes of fruit and vegetables. Mopeds loaded with whole families, pigs, cupboards, washing machines and beds squeeze through non-existent gaps. And through the middle of it all pedestrians dash hopefully. It makes Pall Mall in rush hour look like a Cotswold backwater.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p28-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 20, 2015, 09:01:10 AM
There were other reasons behind my choice of vehicle. Firstly, I was a novice when it came to mechanics. It wasn't that I couldn't do it, it was just that I'd never applied myself to learning about the inner workings of an engine. In all my previous travels there had always been someone else to do that bit. My role had been filming, passing the odd spanner or sitting on the kerb smoking and offering verbal support. Marley had taught me some basics before I left home, such as how to tighten the brakes and chain, - despite Digby's confidence and my desire to learn - there might be times when I needed help. Cubs are simple machines to fix and, where I was going, most boys over the age of ten knew how to bash one back into shape. The same couldn't be said for a new-fangled BMW tourer.
Secondly, my route would pass through some of the poorest parts of Southeast Asia; mountainous tribal lands where the sight of a foreigner was still an extreme rarity. Some of the people still lived in near Stone Age conditions; in bamboo huts absent of schools, sanitation, electricity or material wealth. Me with my white face and motorbike gear were going enough of a shock. I hoped that riding a cheap, familiar bike might fractionally lessen the cultural chasm between us.
And finally, doing it on a proper dirt bike seemed too easy. There was infinitely more comedy value in attempting trundle up and over the Truong Son range on a twenty-five-year-old pink Honda Cub C90.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p31
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 21, 2015, 08:35:15 AM
A motorbike is the most dangerous mode of transport in the world. Fear of being killed or injured while riding one is entirely rational. In Vietnam, where ninety million people crowd the roads and around forty people die in traffic accidents every day, the risk is far higher than in England. Drink driving is de rigueur and traffic rules are routinely ignored. Yet bizarrely I wasn't afraid of this. Not a single thought regarding death or mutilation on the road crossed my mind. I realised that what I was afraid of was myself; of letting myself down, of my reactions to obstacles and solitude.
A few months earlier I'd read Christopher Hunt's book “Sparring With Charlie” about his one-man Minsk ride through Vietnam in the mid-nineties. Several times in the book, Hunt refers to the aching loneliness of the jungle. Would I feel the same? For almost two months I would be travelling alone. In Laos I might go for several days without seeing anyone. Lots of people had told me I was brave, but would I prove myself worthy of such a compliment? I wasn't feeling brave today. To be afraid of my own mind as opposed to the very real fire and metal of an accident was ridiculous. George and Ilza were right - the greatest danger was indeed myself.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p51-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 22, 2015, 09:37:47 AM
Winter was still clinging to the north, and I shivered under my fleece and waterproofs as I rode south from Cam Thuy. Rain made wearing goggles impossible and water lashed my face, stinging my eyes and clogging my lashes. Soon my gloves were soaked through, and my hands froze around the handlebars. Travelling alone makes you acutely aware of the fluctuations of your emotions, intensified by the purity of solitude. This morning - cold, wet and homesick - my mood sank. Chastising myself, I remembered a Tim Cahill quote a friend had told me before I left, “An adventure is never an adventure when it's happening. An adventure is physical and emotional discomfort recollected in tranquillity.”
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p58
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 23, 2015, 11:13:54 AM
That morning, among the pomp and thrill of religious fervour, my anxiety about the journey fell away. This was what it was all about, being immersed in the unpredictable ebb and flow of life on the other side of the world. Every day was going to be a dive into the unknown; every moment unpredictable.
How glorious.
Riding away from the church, I felt my shoulders drop and my face split into a smile. It was the kind of elation you only get from the freedom of the open road, meditation or drugs; a certain liberation of the mind. The kind of elation that makes you want to do a wheelie, whoop excitedly and wave at everyone you pass. I couldn't wait tor whatever the Trail was going to throw at me. As if echoing my happiness, the first bit of sunshine I had seen all week elbowed its way through the clouds.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p68
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 24, 2015, 09:26:36 AM
Dressing in my floral shirt and best underwear for luck, I crept down the dark stairs. No one else was up and I quietly packed Panther and rode through the gates into the bracing dawn air. I'm not a morning person, but there's something magical about riding a motorbike at dawn as the world is just waking; the ghostly grey light suggestive of Other Worlds and Unseen Beings. Heading north west through the fairy tale landscape of Phong Nha Khe Ban National Park, I barely saw another human - unusual for Vietnam. High peaks of limestone karst rose imperiously out of the paddies, floating above a sea of mist, and to my far left were the sheer ramparts of the mountainous border.
At 7 a.m. I stopped to buy some bread - banh mi, pronounced bang me - from two women. They held up one finger, asking was I alone; laughing when I said yes. Urging Panther on, I reached a record speed of 35 miles per hour along the stretch of an old MiG runway before starting the slow climb into the mountains. A silvery vapour hung in the valleys and swirled around the jungle-clad slopes, occasional rays of sun flooding the scene with an ethereal light. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and again I felt that rush of exhilaration, that purity of solitude. I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p91-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 25, 2015, 09:07:50 AM
I watched the jeeps rumble across then rode down a steep sandy bank towards the waiting canoe. The old man held the meagre vessel steady as I crept Panther forward to the bow, walking my legs along the foot-high sides for balance, only a few inches spare either side of my tyres. I heard two extra passengers squat down behind me and with a thrust and a wobble the aged pilot pushed us slowly off the bank. Thrust, wobble, thrust, wobble - I gritted my teeth and swore quietly as we lurched forward, my passengers laughing at my outburst.
“Think yogic, think yogic,” I muttered to myself. “Just look straight ahead, balance and don't move.” I knew if I panicked and moved, all of us would be in the water.
Gripping the handlebars, hardly daring to breathe, I watched the opposite bank inch closer noticing, out of the corner of my eye, a large green lizard paddle past, eyeing me with a beady yellow eye. Sweat and suncream ran down my face, stinging my eyes and collecting in small pools at the base of my neck.
Finally the canoe slid onto the opposite bank and I paid the toothless man 6,000 kip - about eighty pence - pulled the throttle and rode shakily away, Digby cackling as he filmed my escape. That definitely counted as a significant small victory.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p115-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 26, 2015, 09:04:57 AM
Panther lay on her side in a large puddle, her front basket bent and caked in mud. Shards of glass from the smashed left wing mirror glinted in the dirt. Hauling her upright, I saw her left foot peg was bent backwards and a section of paint had been scraped off. She no longer looked like the pristine pink city girl that had left Hanoi ten days earlier.
That'll teach me to go around waving at everyone like an imbecile, not looking where I’m going, I thought.
By now about ten people had gathered around, watching intently as I opened the top box and extracted the toolkit. No one spoke a single syllable of English, but it's amazing how far you can get with sign language and a smile. A young man in dirty blue overalls took my hammer, kneeling down to knock the basket and foot peg back in to shape while I unscrewed the useless wing mirror. To explain that I was from Ang – England - I handed out postcards of the Queen, Buckingham Palace and Big Ben. A little girl in a ripped, dirty orange dress poked Queen's face and said 'Mama' delightedly, as if recognising her. I doubt they had ever heard of England, let alone ever seen Her Maj. An old man then pointed to the mountains, made thundery noises and shook his head sympathetically, as if saying 'Don't worry, it's not your fault, it's the rain'.
With a cheery wave and a throbbing shin I set off, leaving them to puzzle over their unexpected morning interlude. The incident reminded me that an adventure isn't an adventure until things go wrong. Falling in that puddle had forced me into a pleasant interaction with the villagers, which I hope had brightened their morning as well as mine. If I ever pass again, I hope to find the Queen's face still adorning several of the huts.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p124-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 27, 2015, 05:02:14 PM
At Ban Dong I stopped for a Vietnamese coffee- rocket fuel laced with viscous condensed milk. As I drank it, a small Vietnamese woman pulled up beside Panther on a moped. Or at least I think it was a moped, for it was piled with such a peculiar paraphernalia of objects you could barely see the wheels. The woman was perched on an inch of seat in front muddle of fishing nets, cooking pans and pink plastic bonsai trees. Either side of her, panniers made of chicken wire and wood bulged with flip flops, sandals, packets of instant noodles and more cooking utensils. Another basket attached to the handlebars contained plastic helicopters, spotted headbands, T-shirts and tracksuits. Somewhere in there she probably had an inflatable shark, a kitchen sink and an antique hatstand.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p156
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 28, 2015, 08:44:57 AM
The farther I went, the harder it became: steep hills, horizontal slabs of slate-grey rock, deep ruts and that nefarious orange mud. We bumped and slid down, revved and clanked up. Panther's poor little engine strained and wheezed and her tyres spun in the mud, struggling for hold. Several slopes were so steep and rocky I paused at the top, wondering how on earth would do it. Resting Panther on her side stand I walked ahead, picking out the best path, usually a narrow strip of harder mud right at the edge. Wedging my right boot on the back brake, holding the front one on with my right hand and dragging my left boot in the mud for extra braking and stability, we would jolt down. Go too slowly and I’d lose balance, too fast and I'd lose control and risk going over the edge.
On the hardest, rockiest inclines I put both feet down, took weight off the seat and heaved her up with all my strength, the engine struggling in first gear.
It was the toughest riding I had done yet. Keep buggering on, I told myself, and metre by metre, mile by mile we nosed forwards. All I could think about was that moment, those rocks, that deep rut, which gear I was in - nothing else mattered except that place and that instant in time. As hard as it was I felt fully engaged, spurred on by the same fire of determination that had ignited in me on the road from Ban Laboy.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p172-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 29, 2015, 12:58:19 PM
Panther, it seemed, was less keen. Numerous attempts at her kick-start produced no more than a loud pop, then ominous silence. I had seemingly done the impossible; I'd killed my C90. Dialling Cuong's number, I explained her symptoms and asked his advice.
“It sounds like the cam chain,” he diagnosed. “You'll never find decent mechanic in Kaleum, get the bike on a truck to Sekong and find a Vietnamese mechanic there. Whatever you do, find a Vietnamese mechanic, Lao ones no good.”
Sekong was the provincial capital, about fifty miles from here. Getting a truck would be expensive. Digby called back a few minutes later.
“'Look, if the worst comes to the worst we can always send you a new engine. There are worse places to be holed up for a few days than Sekong.”
 Strangely, instead of worry, I felt a frisson of excitement. Seemingly disastrous situations like this often lead to memorable incidents. Or as motorcycling legend Ted Simon d of saying: “The interruptions ARE the journey.” Whatever my immediate future, it would likely be interesting.
Watched by the one-eyed cook and the transvestite from the hotel, I pondered my predicament beside the stricken Panther. Almost instantaneously, a man walked up to me and said in faltering English, “You need mechanic? I'm Vietnam. There's Vietnam mechanic just up the road.”
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p192
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 30, 2015, 09:23:38 AM
I took a few photos s and kicked Panther into action. But the lever slipped uselessly between first, second and third. The gear mechanism had gone. Without gears I couldn't move an inch. Flicking to 'Chapter-1: Engine and Gearbox' in the Haynes Manual, I was confronted with a terrifying-looking exploded diagram of the inner workings of a C90 gear system. Since the geary bits are inside the enginey bits, it meant taking apart the whole engine to see what the problem was. I'd become pretty good at basic tweaking but I feared this was beyond me.
Crouching in the dust, I fiddled with my spanner set and peered at the diagrams. Several overloaded pick-up trucks rattled by, the drivers and passengers all hanging out to shout, “Pai Sai?”
“Attapeu!” I shouted back hopefully, not wanting to ask for help yet.
They laughed and burnt past without taking their feet off the gas, engulfing me in a storm of dust. So much for chivalry in Laos.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p225
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 01, 2015, 10:45:45 AM
Racing the storm and time, I leant forward over Panther and twisted the throttle, nearly jumping out of my skin as a deafening thunderclap cracked over my head.
Something at that moment made me remember it was Easter Sunday. It was 3 p.m. About now, back in England, my parents would be belting out hymns in church and my nephew and niece would be tearing open Easter eggs, their faces smudged in chocolate. How far away that all seemed from my present situation - not enough food and water, no idea where I would sleep tonight and about to get drenched by a tropical thunderstorm. But I was happy; happy to be alone, happy to be pushed like this, enlivened by the adventure. Easter eggs could wait until next year.
It was on days like today that I really revelled in the solitude. I was engaged, focused, determined. On my own, there was no one to help me and no one to complain to. If I was with Marley I probably would have grumbled about my leg hurting, the thunder, being tired. But so what? So what if my leg hurt?
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p229
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 02, 2015, 07:56:25 AM
Lao children like these are a world away from our mollycoddled urban offspring. Smart as bobcats, by the time they're eight they can hunt, fish and look after each other, roaming the jungle in feral packs. This raggle-taggle bunch of Mowglis may have only come up to my waist but they were tougher than most British adults would ever be. Small as they were, I had to trust them. I jokingly made strongman gestures with my arms, at which they giggled and bounded off through the trees, naked bottoms glinting in the sun. By the time I caught up with them they were swarming around Panther, the leader hacking at lengths of bamboo with a machete, marshalling his tiny troops. It was a scene straight out of The Lord of the Flies. Removing my luggage, I watched as they thrust two long poles through the spokes and hoisted my precious Panther over their heads.
The leader barked his orders and in they all dived, five or six children on either side. I stood on the bank with the smallest ones, clapping and whooping with encouragement. The bamboo buckled. Brown water lapped at the wheels, but slowly they wobbled across. Triumphant, they put Panther down on the far bank and hurtled back for their money. The leader took my fistful of notes and sat on a rock, divvying out the booty with the professionalism of an Irish bookie. When it had all been snatched away he looked at me with imploring eyes and said, 'Dollar, dollar.' I knew then I wasn't the first foreign biker to come this way.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p238-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 03, 2015, 10:10:56 AM
When Mr D arrived just after 8 a.m. I was kneeling on the gravel beside Panther, replacing her blackened spark plug.
'Where you get your bike from?' he asked, looking at Panther disdainfully.
He screwed up his face when I told him. 'Your friend in Hanoi no good - why he not get you better bike?'
Biting my tongue, I looked over Panther's seat at his hired 125-cc Honda Wave moped and asked if it was any good.
'Better than yours,' he said curtly, cupping his hands to light a cigarette.
 If he carried on like this we were not going to enjoy a harmonious relationship. Panther may have let me down a few times but she was my Trail partner, and I was fiercely protective of her.
Armed with the old and new maps we set off east towards the Vietnamese border along the same unblemished tarmac of Highway 78. Mr D rode in front of me, slouching over the handlebars, flip flops hanging off his feet. Several times we overtook mopeds carrying wide trays of water snails, their drivers advertising the slimy snacks with the aid of crackly megaphones. Lightly cooked in chilli they were quite delicious, insisted Mr D. Judging by how people rushed out of their houses waving for the mopeds to stop, he wasn't the only one who thought so.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p267-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 04, 2015, 10:39:31 AM
South of here lay the Tonle Srepok River and a single dirt road known as the Mondulkiri Death Highway. Really a skein of oxcart trails, the road ran 30 miles south to the town of Koh Nhek in Mondulkiri province. From there it continued another 60 miles to Sen Monorom, a popular trekking destination. The Chinese had just started work on upgrading it but for now it a dirt track through uninhabited forest, notorious enough for the Lonely Planet to dedicate half a page to it. It warned that the road was impossible in wet season, and that in dry season it should only be attempted by 'hardcore bikers' with 'years of experience and an iron backside'.
 I'd heard about the road, I'd read about it in the Lonely Planet, but never for a second did I consider not attempting it. The North Vietnamese boi dois had walked this same route, trudging the last few hundred miles towards Sen Monorom and Saigon. The only other way south was a 300-mile diversion back via Ban Lung and Stung Treng. Panther and I had survived the Truong Son, surely there was nothing we couldn't tackle now.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p281-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 05, 2015, 08:35:24 AM
Early the following morning Panther and I were ready to hit the road again. There she was outside the mechanic's shack, sunshine glinting off her glossy pink flanks, her idling engine purring like a contented cat. The freshly-showered mechanic squatted beside her, a clean red sarong wrapped around his pint-sized waist. Through Nisse's Cambodian stepson, who come to help me translate, he explained that the whole bike had been taken apart, washed and rebuilt. She'd had a new piston and valves, a new cam chain - the fourth one – a new clutch, a new crank shaft, a new gasket set and an oil change. Since the new piston needed to be kept cool for the first hundred miles, he had rigged Panther to a homemade drip. A 10-litre water container had been strapped between the seat and the handlebars, from which a tube dripped onto a damp cloth wrapped around the cylinder barrel. It made her look like she was fresh out of intensive care.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p297-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 06, 2015, 08:15:59 AM
Blue sky, scudding cotton wool clouds, hot wind, scorching sun and the smooth quiet buzz of Panther's drip-cooled engine. It was a beautiful day to be riding a Cub in Cambodia. But as I rode west towards the Mekong town of Kratie on that same dull Highway 78 my mind interrogated the events the past few days. Should I have turned back when the first man warned me about the mud? Was I too hasty in giving the engineer and his driver water and lending them Panther? If I'd left the two men under the tree, ridden on to Lumphat and sent help back to them I would have probably been OK. Was I right to leave Panther and walk for help or should I have stayed and waited for someone to pass? Did I panic unnecessarily? Round and round the questions tumbled, exploring, questioning, doubting, blaming. The engineer had shafted me. That was for sure. If I had a crash between now and Saigon and died of head injuries, it would all be that bastard's fault.
No. Stop.
Dwelling on the engineer or my missing helmet was futile. Anger wasn't going to get me to Koh Nhek or get my helmet back. Maybe the helmet thief needed it more than me. Maybe day it would save him in an accident. What had happened had happened. It was all part of the adventure. I must accept it and ride on.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p298-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 07, 2015, 08:38:06 AM
'Don't you get lonely?' he asked me. 'I mean, what did you do on all those nights in Laos when there was no one to talk to?'
I considered his question, thinking about those nights in Ta Oi, Kaleum and Attapeu; those long days of riding. I'd felt alone at times, yes, but never lonely. Not once. When I wasn't occupied with Panther or fiddling with equipment I'd spent contented evenings just sitting, watching, thinking, writing. I had revelled in the simple art of observation, undistracted by companionship or television. Consumed by the purpose of my journey, I hadn't had time to feel lonely. Backpacking can be a purposeless occupation; drifting between towns, islands, hostels and air-conditioned buses, only talking to people if you have the courage. I may have been alone in the jungle, but I always had the Trail.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p303-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 08, 2015, 10:00:36 AM
I wasn't finished yet. I had to remain in the present, drink it all in, concentrate on the road. Anything could happen between now and the Palace.
 My anxiety gave rise to indignation as to Vietnamese driving habits. I may have been used to them by now, but I was far from understanding the illogic or it. How could people turn onto a busy road with neither a glance to the left nor the right? How could people never ever look in their mirrors and think it was fine to swerve all over the road while texting, smoking or holding their baby? Why did young girls cycle the wrong way down the road in the middle of the counterflood of traffic? Several times the same people I had cursed then slowed down to wave, smile and ask me questions. People paid so little attention to other road users they might as well drive blindfolded. Their traffic sense defied every iota of human survival instinct.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p330
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 09, 2015, 08:39:08 AM
I pictured Mick and John, the Lumphat road workers, the mechanic in Kaleum, all the people who had helped me along the way. I thought of those days in Laos when I'd fought to get Panther through the mud, sand and mountains. At the time I had cursed those execrable roads, but twenty years from now I knew those to be the days I would remember. I thought about Cu Chi and how, beyond the mannequins and propaganda, it epitomised why America could never have won. United by a mission to unify their motherland, the Vietnamese communists would have fought to the last man.
More than anything else my mind dwelt on how futile the War had been. More than six million men, women and children from Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia, America, Thailand, Australia, South Korea, New Zealand and the Philippines died. Tens of thousands have died since from UXO and the after-effects of Agent Orange. And for what purpose? The Reds won anyway. The outcome would have been the same if America had never fired a single shot.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p334
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 10, 2015, 08:41:44 AM
Panther had spent her last night in a shed next to the hotel, in the company of several other mopeds and a resident old couple. 'Hanoi?' said the man, as he watched me check her over in the morning tuning her for the home run.
‘Hanoi, Lao, Cambodia, Saigon!' I replied, hardly believing it myself.
His face creased into a smile and he shook his head, gabbling something to his supine wife. She rose from their mattress to watch, and the two of them waved goodbye as I cranked the kick-start and rode away through the palms.
On the final 30 miles into the heart of the metropolis there was no countryside anymore, just a seamless stream of little concrete houses and bending palms funnelling me south. Today was 20 April, ten days before 'Liberation Day', the anniversary of Saigon's capitulation and the end of the War. Already commemorative flags lined the roadside, red and gold silk fluttering between the trees. Riding in the midst of them I thought about those last days of the War in Vietnam, how almost thirty-eight years ago to the day communist tanks were streaming down this very road. All the key southern cities had already fallen to Hanoi; only Saigon was left. In the end the tanks rolled into the city almost unopposed, along streets strewn with the abandoned uniforms of the deserting ARVN. The last Americans had fled in helicopters and most foreign correspondents had been evacuated. Among the very few who remained were the English writer and poet James Fenton and the soon-to-be-fired Rolling Stone journalist Hunter S. Thompson, who had flown in with $30,000 in cash strapped to his body. Both survived to tell the tale.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p335-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 11, 2015, 04:06:35 PM
Thanking her, I kicked Panther into life. But the kick-start sputtered and popped. The engine remained silent. I realised what had happened at once. In my anxiety to find my way and reach the Palace in one piece I'd entirely forgotten about petrol. Now, 5 miles before the end, I had run out of fuel. What an idiot! As luck would have it, there was a petrol station less than 400 metres up the road. I wheeled Panther there along the pavement, laughing at my ineptitude.
Now it was truly the final furlong. We inched towards the finish line, pulled along in ten lanes of traffic, a tiny particle in the city's endless two-wheeled cavalcade. Half an hour later the New World Hotel rose up on my left. I must be close. Outside it, the traffic lights turned red and I stopped in the front row amid a battalion of revving mopeds.
'Does anyone speak English?' I asked, addressing neighbours.
'I do!' replied a teenage boy, leaning over the handlebars of his moped a few rows away.
'Brilliant! Do you know where the Reunification Palace is, please?’
'Yes. I'm going that way, follow me.' What a stroke of luck.
The lights turned green and a hundred tiny engines thrummed into life, leaping forward; the charge of the Honda brigade. The boy ducked and dived through the streets, past grand French buildings and down leafy boulevards. Every time I thought I'd lost him I caught sight of his brown helmet, bobbing like a cork on the sea of traffic. Then, there they were, the grey iron gates of the Reunification Palace, the same ones the NVA tanks had surged through on 30 April 1975.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p337-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 12, 2015, 11:31:17 AM
The boy said goodbye and I waved as he vanished into the traffic.
This was it. I rode Panther slowly towards the gates, savouring the last 100 metres of our journey, stopping only when I felt the front wheel bump against the gates and knew I couldn't go an inch further.
'We've made it, Panther,' I said out loud, leaning over the handlebars. 'We've bloody made it.'
A group of Japanese tourists stopped photographing the Palace and looked at me.
I didn't want to get off my beloved Pink Panther. I couldn't believe we'd actually done it. For ten minutes I just sat there, staring at the white facade, smiling, savouring the moment. Six weeks, three countries, 2,000 miles, four engine rebuilds and one hell of an adventure later, my Ho Chi Mission was finally over.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p339
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 13, 2015, 08:34:52 AM
I considered if the experience had changed me, if I was returning to England a different person. Fundamentally I didn't think it had. Bar a few kilos less, a new scar on my left shin, a much-improved knowledge of mechanics and a vault of extra memories, I was still me. I hadn't undergone a spiritual transformation or 'discovered' myself in some ecstatic epiphany. But I had learnt a few things on the Trail; insights that could only have come from travelling alone. In times of adversity, when the mire and the mountains had conspired to beat me, I had faced myself and passed the test. I hadn't cried or given up; I'd stuck my chin out and kept on going, mile by muddy mile. For someone as self-critical as me, this felt like a significant achievement. I hesitate to use the word proud, as it reeks of vanity and arrogance, but I did allow myself to feel a smidgeon of pride. Whatever the future held, I would always have the knowledge that I'd cajoled an ailing twenty-five-year-old Cub over the Truong Son. If I could do that, I hoped I could overcome a lot of life's difficulties.
A Short Ride In The Jungle  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p348
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 18, 2015, 10:38:24 PM
Sorry for the hiatus. Been out to Carnarvon Gorge- no phone, no TV, no internet.  Would drive one nuts!

'Mr Carter?' he enquired, looking at his clipboard, then scanning the otherwise empty room.
 That's me,' I tried to say, stumbling to my feet, but actually said something like 'haaaaashme' in the style of an asthmatic drunk, owing to the fact that my legs were no longer working and my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
'I am your examiner. Mr Pass,' he said, offering his leather- gauntletted hand. The words of W. H. Murray flickered once more across my mind.
‘Is that really your name?' I asked, looking for the cameras.
'Yes,’ came a voice, deadpan, from somewhere beneath the helmet, in the manner of a man who hadn't heard anybody point out the absurdity of his name. Well, not for 10 minutes anyway. 'Shall we start?'
I managed to dodge the souped-up Novas and weekday shoppers of Neath, and when we eventually pulled back into the riding school, Mr Pass went through the litany of cock-ups that I'd managed to squeeze into 30 minutes of riding.
These included failure to indicate, failure to execute life-saver and failure to resist taking the piss out of his name. Though the latter was not officially listed on the charge sheet.
I was braced for 'You're a disgrace, Carter, what are you? Drop and give me 20.’ But instead he said, 'You’ve passed.' I thanked Mr Pass for passing me and uttered something about being happy that I’d avoided Mr Fail's shift, which went down about as well as my original comment.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p16-17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 19, 2015, 05:12:44 PM
I got back on the coast road heading north. Shortly after, a biker overtook me. On the back of his jacket was embossed: 'If you can read this, my bitch has fallen off.' Then another passed, and another. I looked in my mirrors.  All I could see was a great snake of beards. They turned off into a ferry terminal and, owing to my hangover and my new map-free life, I followed them.
'Where are you guys going?' I asked the nearest Hagar the Horrible.
We are going to Gotland,' he grunted, cigarillo gripped between his teeth, 'for Scandinavia's biggest biker festival. We get very messed up, ya. You should come.'
Gotland. It sounded Gothic and sinister, like an island shrouded in mist where a princess, guarded by a dragon, lay imprisoned.
I weighed up my options. Arguing most firmly against going to Gotland was the fact that I would have to share it with Hell's Angels from all over Scandinavia. Now, I didn't have anything against Hell's Angels per se. What consenting adults got up to with live chickens was no business of mine But unless I could somehow hook up with the Quaker chapter, I doubted my liver in its current condition would survive the week.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p67
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 20, 2015, 12:48:06 PM
Tent erected (25 minutes), I walked up a nearby slope. From there, there was a view over the entire campsite.
All I could see for miles was canvas and motorbikes, each bike stationed outside its tent like a guard dog. There must have been a few thousand bikers milling around, stopping to admire the machines and draw on the bottles they produced from their pockets.
Nearly all the bikers were men, mostly corpulent middle-aged, wearing leather caps and waistcoats, studded wristbands and extraordinary configurations of facial hair. It was like a huge open-air gay bar where everybody had let themselves go a bit - although that was an observation I kept to myself. The air was suffused with beery breath and the fug of farts.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p69
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 21, 2015, 08:50:23 AM
Then the tunnels started. On the road to Bergen there were 45 in all, drilled through the mountains. The first went sharply uphill and then corkscrewed, like a Disney ride, shooting me out high above a fjord with waterfalls tumbling down the massive bluffs and minuscule white cruise ships humbled below. Then, plunging back into another, over 15 miles long, this time the road falling away from me steeply down into a diesel fug, like a descent into hell.
I took in the clutch and (look away Kevin Sanders) let myself roll, bottling it when the speedo glowed 60 mph and I was still accelerating. After an eternity in the gloom, I was fired back blinking into the bright light again and flying, leaning sharply into the bends, buttocks clenched, the tyres slipping slightly. Inside my helmet I was screaming at the top of my lungs. For this was the landscape I had imagined when I first dreamed of hitting the road: majestic and vast, wild and remote.
And whether it was because I'd got a few thousand miles under my belt or something else, I didn't know, but for the first time it was difficult to feel where the bike ended and I began.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p81
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 22, 2015, 10:19:36 AM
I logged on to the Internet again. It had been over 45 minutes since I'd last checked. There were dozens of messages from the motorbike site inviting me to come and stay in countries on my route. This only confirmed my growing conviction that motorcyclists, along with gardeners, are the nicest people on earth. Put motorcycling gardener on your CV and I guarantee St Peter will have you down on the VIP list.
One Aussie couple, Joe and Sue, emailed me to say they were riding around Europe and were currently heading for Poland. After that, they'd be going to Romania and Bulgaria and Turkey. If our paths crossed, they said, it would be great to tour around together for a few weeks. I emailed them back.
‘Would love to,' I wrote. 'Hopefully see you in a few days.'
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p155
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: bazza1946 on July 23, 2015, 07:22:29 AM
Never ride your bike where your eyes haven't been already  :slvr13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 23, 2015, 09:34:06 AM
On the single-lane 'motorways', the tarmac was warped from wear and cold and heat, and the ruts trapped my wheels from time to time like tram tracks and took them off towards the oncoming juggernauts. Target fixation's not an issue in Poland. It's perfect midlife crisis territory. You just get in a rut and see where it takes you.
Leapfrogging a track at a time was the only way to progress - escaping the fog of exhaust, a brief face-off with a wall of metal speeding my way, a sonorous blast of a horn, and a return to a warm lungful of diesel. It was like a perpetual game of chicken.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p167
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 25, 2015, 11:43:37 AM
I rode through one of Europe's last primeval forests in Bialowieza, and as I emerged an acute pain shot up my left leg. At first I thought I might be having a stroke, but then it occurred to me that it was possibly even worse: there was a wasp in my boot.
Ignoring the sensible action of pulling over and removing my boot, I started to smash myself in the left foot while riding one-handed through the traffic. This only seemed encourage the wasp to intensify his attack.
It also encouraged the attention of the local police who'd been sitting in their squad car in a lay-by and, in this most Catholic of countries, probably concluded that here was some kind of self-flagellating tour of penitence.
They drove behind me and gave their siren a quick toot. I pulled over, dismounted Frankie Dettori style and hopped around in circles, simultaneously punching myself in the foot while trying to get my boot off, shouting 'wasp! wasp!,' which, in all probability, was not the Polish for wasp. The two policemen looked confused, unsure of what the appropriate action was to take.
The stings kept coming. Finally they stopped. I removed my boot and a battered wasp fell out. Can wasps smile? This one looked pretty happy. The policemen looked pretty happy, too.
'Wasp, wasp,' I said, pointing to the lifeless stripy corpse.
'Osa, osa,' they said together.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p168-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 26, 2015, 12:46:28 PM
In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Robert Pirsig talked about his motorbike and the moods it had and its living, breathing soul. And you think, for crying out loud, I know you've had a nervous breakdown, matey, but it is only a machine.
But here's the thing. You spend hour after hour, day after day, listening to your bike, and you do begin to hear it speak. Some days, there's a sweet mellifluous, contented purr and on others a distinct grumbling and weariness.
And the really weird thing is, you start to talk back to I encouraging it, patting it gently on the petrol tank like you would a horse when it's done something desirable, like stop in time in an emergency, for example, and gently scolding it when it does something not so clever, like wobble or slip on a bend.
And you know logically that this is arrant nonsense, that maybe you need to seek out more human company, that a BMW R1200GS is not a horse, despite its dead-sheep saddle and coterie of flies, but simply a marvellous piece of Teutonic engineering, that the only variable here is the lump sitting astride it, and that if I were reading this instead of writing it, I'd be making that twirling gesture against my temple, but...
I'd been talking to my bike a lot in Turkey.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p224
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 27, 2015, 09:08:41 AM
So, as the bike pointed due west for the first time in three months, I opened the throttle and hurtled, helmetless, across the desert, touching 70, maybe 80, miles per hour, egging the bike on, patting it on the petrol tank, slipping and a sliding and a hollering and a screaming in the pouring rain; the exhilaration and sense of freedom quite indescribable.
For about two minutes, anyway, until the smell of burning filled my nostrils. I pulled up and killed the ignition. There was smoke rising from my radiator grill. The engine was oil-cooled. I'd only discovered this a couple of days before when the same thing had happened after I'd pulled in for petrol.
Seeing me looking puzzled at the smoke pouring out of the bike, the garage owner had come over.
'Your bike is oil-cooled,' he'd said.
'I know that,' I'd said. 'Tsk.'
'In this heat, it will use much oil.'
'I know that.'
'You need to fill it up more often here.'
'I know that.'
'Or else it will overheat.'
 'Obviously,' I'd said. 'Tsk.'
Would you like to buy some oil?'
'Of course,' I'd said. ‘That's why I stopped here.'
He'd gone off, returned with a bottle of oil and handed it to me.
Thank you,' I'd said.
We'd stood there for a minute or two. I was subtly scanning the bike.
'Nice garage you've got here,’ I'd said.
Would you like me to show you where the oil goes?' he'd asked.
‘Yes, please,' I'd said.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p228
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 28, 2015, 09:09:36 AM
We stood there for a minute, awkward. I was frustrated that I couldn't ask him anything about his life. I had so much I needed to tell him. So much I wanted to ask.
He looked over at my bike again.
I pointed to him, then I pointed to myself, then I pointed to the bike. His face broke into a huge grin.
I lifted him up on to the pillion seat, climbed on myself and fired the engine. Then I took off across the scrub, slowly at first, then getting faster, faster, in the rain. His hands dug through my T-shirt and into my skin. I could hear him screaming. I slowed down. The screaming stopped. I turned the throttle, the screaming started again.
Finally, I pulled up outside the tent, put the bike on its stand and lifted him off. He stood there grinning. He didn't look old any more. He looked like a boy.
 He put his arms around me and squeezed tightly, then he ran off towards the tented village.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p230
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 29, 2015, 10:43:47 AM
I stopped at a garage for petrol. As ever in Kurdish Turkey, and most other places in Turkey for that matter, I was immediately mobbed by men looking at the bike and asking me questions: always 'how fast?' followed by 'how much?', then gazing at the bike with awed reverence. It was always men. Women, I had disappointingly discovered- were supremely indifferent to motorcycles; if women responded to them the way that men do, I'd still be on the road. Perhaps next time I'll ride a giant shoe.
Tea was always brought out as a matter of course and, as at every garage in Turkey, I was presented with a man-size of tissues. Finding space on a motorcycle for dozens of breezeblock-sized boxes of tissues was problematic. refusal was impossible without causing major offence. Believe me, I'd tried.
And so I took them graciously and cleaned my visor with them, my sunglasses, my windscreen, my exhaust pipe, rocks by the side of the road, mopped up oil spills, plugged holes in dams and, just when I'd managed to get through a whole box, the petrol gauge would start flashing and soon I'd be saying '125mph', '£9,000' and 'thanks for the tissues, just what I needed'.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p232-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: jackndon on July 29, 2015, 11:05:21 PM
 :blu13left
has life has gone full circle????? when I was sixteen with no arse I was trying to push my Royal Enfield up onto the pavement, off the double yellow lines in the town of Pontypridd  ( look it up?) steep pavement, two Telecom blokes with nothing better to do watching, after said bike made it up over pavement, me covered in sweat, one bloke said, well mate that's the only thing your likely to have hot and throbbing between your legs in the near future, I would not trust you with my sisters pram! I am heading for seventy and what little arse I did have has now disappeared, but I still have a bike hot and throbbing between my legs! ;-*
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 30, 2015, 08:50:50 AM
I'd never ridden along listening to music before, because clearly that would be hazardous on a motorcycle. But whereas listening to music on a normal road might prevent you from hearing a car horn, and thus failing to take evasive action, I doubted that, on a deserted road in these parts, hearing an incoming RPG would leave you much time to do anything apart from say, 'Fu-'
I put on my headphones, replaced my helmet, clicked play, put on my Best of MGM Musicals came the soothing tones of Debbie Reynolds: 'Good mornin', good morrrrrrrrnin.
It's something the world has seemingly known for some time, but only latterly discovered by me, about just how totally music can affect your moods. In no time, I was riding with a happy heart, joining in with Debbie and Gene and Donald, all thoughts of snipers and landmines and RPGs gone.
The iPod shuffled into its next song. If there's another disadvantage to listening to music on a motorcycle, it's that, what with the thick gloves and the iPod being tucked away in your pocket, and the desirability of keeping two hands on the bars, you're kind of stuck with what you get shuffled.
On this occasion it was 'The Ride of the Valkyries'.
On the shadowy ridges, there were small figures moving everywhere I looked.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p234-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 31, 2015, 08:46:57 AM
I rode south from Cappadocia, across the Anatolian plateau and up into the Taurus Mountains. I was flying quickly around the bends, recklessly even, the false sense of invincibility that can infect you on a motorcycle - like riding with angels - burning strong. I was in a hurry to get to Bodrum.
But there was an atmosphere on the roads that day, a dissonance, like there sometimes is, where the synchronicity was missing.
Everybody seemed nervous or distracted, things that you are far more attuned to with the vulnerability that comes with riding a motorbike. You can instinctively tell if somebody is on their mobile, or having a row with their passenger. Bad driving just becomes so obvious.
Maybe it was the full moon, but the near misses came thick and fast. Something was going to happen; I knew it, everybody else on the road seemed to know it. 
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p245-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 01, 2015, 07:04:05 AM
I came round a bend. Ahead of me was a crowd gathered in the middle of the road. As I drew nearer I could make out the body of a man, lying on his back, hideously twisted and contorted into an impossible shape, thrown clear from the mangled wreckage of the car some 50 metres away.
I noticed a big, dark stain on his trousers around his crotch, and then the woman, a wife or girlfriend maybe, bent over him, bloodied, sobbing. I pulled over and sat on my bike at the side of the road, some distance away, smoking a cigarette. I don't know why I didn't just ride on. It seemed somehow more respectful to wait, quietly.
An ambulance arrived, and they gently, tenderly, straightened out the man, put him on a stretcher and loaded him into the back. Then the woman climbed in, too, slowly, reluctantly. I followed them down the mountain, hurtling along, sirens blazing, although there was little traffic on the road now.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p246
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 02, 2015, 04:33:50 PM
I had no idea of what was going to happen. For a split second, I stood there, all the benign and quixotic explanations rushing around my brain. They're out hunting with AK47s? They're lost? He wants to look at my bike? He's from northern Cyprus and wants to practise his English? It all went into slow motion. I stared at the scarf tied around his face. Then I stared at the gun. I remembered the border guard's warnings. I thought about Herr Flick. He was about 60 yards away now.
My legs were growing rapidly heavier and my hands had started to tremble. Any longer and I would become frozen and whatever was going to happen would happen. Weirdly, there was a grain of comfort in this thought, the passive prostrating before the aggressor, curling up in a ball, at the mercy of others. Fifty yards. It was now or never.
I swung my leg over the bike, kicked it off the stand and pressed the ignition. As I smashed the bike into gear and released the clutch too quickly, causing it stutter before catching, I hunched my shoulders, waiting for the sound of the gun. The bike picked up speed, I stayed in a crouched position on the saddle, braced for the impact. It never came.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p283-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 03, 2015, 08:22:52 AM
Boris drained his can, crushed it on his forehead and let fly with a sonorous belch. 'Now we go to the Pit. Follow me!’
By now, Boris had perhaps drunk enough to not be considering anything more complicated than falling over. But for some reason he thought it a good idea to jump on a powerful motorcycle and speed off through the Zagreb traffic. Just in case balancing on two wheels wasn't difficult enough, Boris rode the first 50 metres pulling a wheelie.
‘The cops here are idiots, plonkers. They never pull over bikers in Zagreb,' Boris told me at the next set of traffic lights,
We waited for the lights to go green.
'But if they try to stop us,' Boris added, 'we will make a run for it. We can cut across the parks. They'll give up. Just follow me and everything will be cushtie.'
It seemed to me somewhat unfair that my blood had been refused when, if anybody was showing the signs of a fondness for tainted Aberdeen sirloin, it was Boris Trotter here.
'Let's go,' he yelled. 'Yeehaa.' And he was off again on one wheel.
Uneasy Rider  Mike Carter  p303
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 04, 2015, 08:39:18 AM
My mum will not share in your pleasure. I'm not even sure I want her to read this book. You see, my mum really believes that one day I shall come to my senses and stop riding these wretched, stupid and improbably perilous motorcycles. She has believed this since the first day I started riding them, more than thirty years ago. It is a constant in our relationship.
Every time she sees me she asks me if I'm still riding bikes. I tell her I am. She frowns and advises me, yet again, that they're very dangerous.
Because I love her, I refrain from telling her that that I exactly what attracts people like me to motorcycles in the first place. Instead, I lie to her and assure her that I am always careful. I know she doesn't believe me, but I tell her anyway.
The uncomfortable truth is that I actually came to my senses the day I started riding bikes. I so very much came to my senses it was simply not possible to come to them in any greater degree. All the senses there ever were for me to come to, had been arrived at on that fateful day. And the ensuing decades of riding have only served to confirm that arrival.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p2-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 05, 2015, 09:43:26 AM
'Giz a go!' I screeched unthinkingly, convinced I'd never get one, but I was a little maddened by the smell of burning oil and exhaust fumes.
'Can you ride?' he asked. A fair question, given Gronk didn't know me very well.
'Yeah!' I lied, fully aware that a detailed rundown of how I crashed a two-stroke Rockhopper into a tree six years before was clearly not what Gronk would want to hear at this pivotal moment.
He shrugged and got off. I had a quick look around to see if there were any teachers nearby, and got on. My toes could barely touch the ground and the bike felt vast. It was hot too, and seriously heavier than I had imagined.
Suddenly I was a little scared. My mates all stood around me, honking and giggling and keeping a look out for teachers, so there was no question of a change of heart In the eyes of my peers, a backdown would be tantamount to admitting you preferred kissing boys. It was a ride-or-die moment.
I revved it. Nothing happened.
Put it in first!' Gronk instructed.
Easy for him to say. I had a vague notion he was talking about gears, but none at all about where they might be found.
'Hold the clutch in!' he demanded, tapping helpfully on the lever.
I duly pulled it in and held it. He kicked the bike into first for me, via a small lever near the left foot peg, and I felt the Honda lurch a bit.
 'Now give it some revs and let the clutch out slowly.’
 And that was pretty much that, as far as my riding lesson went.
It also pretty much sealed the deal on the sale of my soul to the infernal two-wheeler. I was doomed before I'd even pogoed madly out of the car park and onto the street, helmetless and in school uniform - an instant and irredeemable motorcycle tragic, world without end, amen.
I couldn't sleep that night. I had never got the bike out of first gear, stalled it 100 times and ripped open my leg kick-starting it 101 times. But something profound had occurred inside my head in the hour I'd spent 'riding' Gronk's bike in the streets behind my high school - and it was playing on a constant loop as I lay awake in my bed. The sheer atavistic rush of speed that only a motorcycle can provide is so addictive it makes crack cocaine look like a bitch.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p8-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: HONK on August 05, 2015, 07:35:11 PM
So.
Are you going to put in the story about Squirm and the dog?
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 06, 2015, 09:36:18 AM
Right then I was about as thrilled as a fifteen-year-old boy could be without bursting spontaneously into flame. All of this excitement stemmed directly from the fact that I was at the controls of a proper motorcycle for the second time in my life and I hadn't the vaguest idea what I was doing.
I understood that a horrible outcome awaited me if I crashed. I wasn't precisely sure what it would be, but I was sure it would be horrible on a scale yet unimagined by me. Interestingly, I did not even consider the physical implications of hitting the road at 80kms per hour dressed in a school uniform. I was more concerned about how I would explain riding and crashing bikes to my father, who was delusional enough to imagine his only son was at school being taught to read and write and hate quadratic
equations.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 07, 2015, 08:38:47 AM
I nodded, kicked the bike into life and roared off. It took me thirty seconds before I successfully slotted the Honda into second gear.
My heart sang and I must have been grinning and gurning like a fat chick eating biscuits. I subsequently found third and fourth and ultimately fifth, whereupon the bike stalled violently and slammed my balls hard into the petrol tank as I slowed to make a U-turn.
Obviously, there was more to this gear-selection caper than my spray-painted mate had revealed. It took me the best part of the next hour to work out that one must be judicious in one's gear selection by picking the gear most suitable for the speed at which one is travelling. The price for failure was pulped testicles. I was also quickly discovering that motorcycling is a cruel, Darwinian mistress.
But as I worked the gears and felt the bike responding with even greater speed as I careened up and down Cardigan Lane, motorcycling held me ever tighter in its grip and bound me ever closer to its bosom.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p14
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 08, 2015, 09:12:41 AM
I discovered true fear by riding the track at night, the wrong way around, which meant going up Conrod Straight in the other direction - back when it was a real straight and not the effete chicane-shamed atrocity it is today. I can still taste the acerbic tang of pure dread as I hammered up that long, long straight at almost 190 km per hour behind one of the Laverdas, then leaned my bike into the sharp, totally blind uphill right of Forrest's Elbow, followed by the even blinder and steeper uphill horror of the Dipper. This feat was made all the more memorable because people were actually riding the other way at the time.
Oh, and we were drunk. So that helped.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p35-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 09, 2015, 12:47:20 PM
'What's that stinkin smell?' Terry groaned as we stood beside a heater inside the Holbrook truck-stop at some obscene and frigid hour of the night.
 'It's piss,' I hissed.
 'What piss?' Terry asked, iris nostrils twitching and his head swivelling from side to side due to his recently acquired blindness.
'My piss,’ I said through clenched teeth. 'I thought we were dead when you ran off the road. I didn't see any point holding it in.’
That was a lie. I could no more have held in that wee than I could have turned the tide. When Terry's bike left the road and started tankslapping along the verge, my bladder unilaterally emptied, clearly of the opinion I should arrive at the Throne of Jesus with a freshly flushed urethra.
 'Why's the back of my pants wet?' Terry gasped in horror as his hands patted the arse of his jeans, which were steaming as they dried in front of the heater.
'Please don't make me tell you,' I grated.
‘AARRGGHH,' Terry moaned, wincing in revulsion as my fright-wee dried on his body and made his skin prickle.
It was too cold to go outside and wash our clothes in the toilet, and in any case our more immediate concern was Terry's blindness and how that would impact on the fact that we had to be in Albury to get my bike off the train in three hours.
'How blind are you?' I asked him.
 'What?' he keened, his head radaring from side to side as it locked onto my voice.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p43-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 10, 2015, 09:14:25 AM
Radiant dealerships full of embossed leather duds, piratical bandannas and faux Nazi helmets were still some way off as I began doing time with My Shovelhead.
And what a time it was! We were nothing if not busy, that's for sure. I spent more time with that bike than with any other bike I have had before or since. And a lot of that time was spent on the side of the road in places as diverse as inner-city Melbourne and the table drain on the Hay Plain eighty-five kilometres from Balranald. I've sheltered beside it in pouring rain outside of Murray Bridge and cursed it from the shade of a solitary tree near Coonamble. I would have put in, and observed the departure of, at least 10,000 litres of 20W-50 Pennzoil, smeared a billion metres of Silastic around its ever-leaking primary and wondered how, by all that is holy, anyone could build a bike using self-tapping wood screws to hold the headlight in its nacelle. A nacelle, I might add, I had obsessively rubbed some sixty kilograms of Autosol alloy polish into over the time I owned the bike.
My Shovelhead never stopped leaking oil - though it did vary the amounts from a few drops to 'How the hell am I gonna get home now?' And it never failed to excite me when it barked its unmuffled hatred at the world. Except that one time when I ran into the back of a stationary car while admiring my tattooed he-glory in a shop window. Then it kinda pissed me off.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p96
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 11, 2015, 09:41:17 AM
As we headed further up the coast the next morning, I found myself riding behind Jabba. It was both oily and hilarious. Sitting just behind him coming into Taree, I noticed that every few kays his bike's exhaust note would change. Apparently, one of its leads kept falling off. Not wishing to annoy us any further by stopping to fix it, Jabba would simply reach down and plug it back in. This would send massive spasms of pain shooting through his already road-battered body, as 35,000 volts coursed through him, causing him to swerve wildly across the road as he fought to regain control of the Triumph and his twitching limbs. I was laughing, but I also wondered just how much more of this abuse he could take.
We stopped in Taree tor breakfast, which gave Jabba a chance to forage through some nearby rubbish bins for more cardboard. He also asked each of us in turn if we had any spare foam handlebar grips. When I giggled at him, he held up two very dirty and badly swollen hands. The bike's inherent vibration, amplified by the fact the motor was missing two head steadies, was causing the solidly mounted handlebars to buzz with crippling intensity. The swelling of his hands got worse the further up the coast we got By Port Macquarie, Jabba was no longer gripping the handlebars. He was operating the throttle by pushing the heel of his right hand against it and moaning. His left hand would only go to the bars when he was forced to reach down and reconnect the plug lead with his right.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p143-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 12, 2015, 10:40:48 AM
We were to meet at Wisemans Ferry West Crossing at 6 am on the day of departure. This was the ferry one caught to cross the Hawkesbury River in order to ride to the old St Albans pub - a popular Sunday beer-and-lunch spot for lots of Sydney's motorcyclists. But we weren't going to St Albans. We were turning left immediately after the ferry crossing and heading up to the e Putty Road, then down a dirt road to cross the Colo River on some old wooden bridge that had been built by convicts a thousand years before Sydney got electricity. From there, we'd head up into the Great Dividing Range, to Bilpin and Mount Wilson via the Bells Line of Road and onto the Bowens Creek track - which, according to the knot of contour lines, was nothing but a narrow path cut into the arse of a great sandstone cliff with a surface designed to murder the stupid novice dirt-rider with immense malice.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p191
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 13, 2015, 08:52:34 AM
Day Two was to begin with fuelling up, then following the bitumen through Canberra and out onto the Cotter Road to the Cotter Dam. But before plunging into the waters of the dam, we intended to turn right onto the Brindabella Road - which I saw came with its own handwritten aside for me to absorb. The aside said: ‘You will die on this road if you do not pay attention and take it easy. It is steep, twisty and if you make an error, you'll plummet off a cliff and into one of the most beautiful valleys in Australia.'
Should I somehow make it to the bottom on two wheels, I would notice that Brindabella Road met Crace Road on a bridge over the Goodradigbee River. Ten kilometres further up, we would turn onto Boundary Road, then Forest Drive, Broken Cart Track and the Long Plain - which had been marked on the map as twelve kilometres of 'super-fast open plains dirt' - and a place I could crash the bike at velocities I had never even dreamed of.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p192
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 14, 2015, 08:24:39 AM
I showered quickly as tiredness started to set in with a vengeance. I then fell into a bed that was more akin to a hammock, only to find Mick bellowing it me the instant I'd closed my eyes.
'Come on!' he yelled. 'It's four am, we have to go!'
Damn good thing I'd tucked the almost empty bottle of Turkey in Al's snoring arms before I put myself to bed, or he'd be shaking me even harder, I thought I struggled to my feet and started to dress myself. I knew no one had shat in my mouth because I'd been hung-over before and I was on familiar ground, but my head was sore and murky as I squirmed into my boots.
'Good job,’ Ian grinned as he watched me curse and mutter and search for my wallet and phone which had somehow found their way under my mattress. 'I always get pissed on good whiskey before riding 400 kays of really difficult dirt,’ he observed.
 'Yeah me too,' I growled back and swallowed some gooey spit that tasted rather more like some liquefied internal organ than I would have liked. Then I went downstairs, got on my bike in the frosty darkness and headed for Canberra along the Federal Highway.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p204
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 15, 2015, 09:06:10 AM
It was all I could really do, because I could certainly no longer ride a motorcycle properly. All my bastard shit hurt. My helmet ground into my thudding skull and the rest of my body throbbed with a strained ache I'd only ever experienced the morning after a big fight with angry bouncers. As I sourly burped my way past the Mount Stromlo turn-off and the bitumen got twistier, my riding skills deserted me altogether. I must have been about a kilometre behind as I saw the rest of the crew turn off onto the dirt and head up into the Brindabella Ranges.
The DR, its knobby tyres and I just could not get it together.
'Shit,' I chanted over and over as I lurched and yawed up the winding track that had the traction of greasy kitchen lino. The dirt was hard-packed, but heavily peppered with shiny buried rocks that caused the bike to skitter alarmingly from side to side. I couldn't stand up on the pegs because I was too busy hanging on for grim death and it was getting colder the higher I climbed. Yesterday afternoon, I had been planning on entering the Dakar. Today I was planning on throwing up in my helmet.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p205
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 16, 2015, 12:19:23 PM
'You good?' he asked, helping me wrench my bike upright.
I nodded. I was okay physically - again a breathing, sweaty testament to the sanctity and glory of body armour.
‘I”ll ride it up to the level bit for you,’ Miles offered kindly.
‘I’ll have your flamin’ babies for you if you do,’ I muttered, but I don't think he heard me. I then watched agog at the ease with which he did just that, with Ian right behind him. I took a deep breath and commenced to clump up the cliff face after them. In ten metres perspiration was cascading off me and I was puffing like a blown horse. In twenty metres black spots were exploding in my vision and there was not enough air on earth to satisfy my needs. I stopped, hands on knees and retched emptily into my helmet. It smelled like old lollies. Miles, Ian and Mick watched my glacial progress from above.
'When were you giving up the smokes, Borne?' I heard Miles ask from on high.
Since my remaining time on earth was measured in minutes, I didn't waste it replying. I resumed clumping up the hill, got on my bike and went at it again.
 But the scenario I just described was to repeat itself several more times. Sometimes Ian helped me, sometimes Miles helped me. Once, Mick almost ran over me, which would probably have helped by putting an end to my misery.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p222-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 17, 2015, 09:28:14 AM
I have always known there are demons in the night. Fanged, red- skinned horrors, playing at the edges of your vision and capering through your mind as you ride.
Hemingway, in ‘A Farewell to Arms’, understood the night to be a time and place of great 'otherness' and wrote: I know the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist...'
A mate sent me the above wisdom just before I set off at 11 pm one muggy Friday night on a run unlike any I'd ever done - and the words rang with a fierce truth. I am no stranger to night riding. I actually quite like it. I am also no stranger to banging out big miles, and I don't mind that, either. But doing 1000 kilometres in a twelve-hour period and riding 250 kilometres past my destination and then 250 kilometres back was something I'd never done before.
How this came to pass is not as important as the ride itself, though you probably need to know why I wedged myself upon a tiny, screaming 600cc Yamaha R6 and howled northward from Sydney through the murk. A man called Dave had invited me along on what he called a ‘FarRide'. A FarRide is a type of ride undertaken by a group of blokes known as FarRiders. They are a unique breed of motorcyclist, for whom the ride is purity incarnate - the be-all and end-all. Some of them have accomplished distance-riding feats that beggar belief and which prompt the question, 'Why?'
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p244-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 18, 2015, 08:35:19 AM
And this is the Darkness before the Dawn, too. The time of night when people become werewolves and rip their neighbours' throats out. The time of night when nothing is possible but anything is likely. The time of night when you're most mortal, and yet feel immortal.
I'd consumed a Red Bull twenty kilometres back, and am now so wired I could do duty as a dingo fence. But I am comatose compared to the twenty young bucks having an ice-smoking party in the Kempsey servo I stop at. Three old cars, plastered with the Koori flag and various land rights logos are parked there. Around them, drinking and yelling and wrestling are some of Kempsey's more excitable residents. To have ridden straight out would have been an act of cowardly wisdom. To stop, turn off my bike and fuel up is the act of a crazed man - which I doubtlessly am by this stage of the game. The ice-smokers don't bother to stop smoking when I pull up, but since they only have one pipe between them, many of them are free to engage me in manly banter.
'Heeey, bro/ one of them says, his eyes glistening with insanity, 'Det your bike?'
'Yep,' I lie cheerily, willing the petrol faster into my tank and spilling some because my hands are trembling.
'Heeey, bro,’ the lunatic smiles wickedly, 'you're shaking .. hee hee hee . .. we'll hev to ride your bike for you ... hee, hee, hee.
Then he stalks back to the group to report that he's scared the motorcyclist so badly he is shaking like a leaf.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p249
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 19, 2015, 11:39:03 AM
9 am to 10.30 am
The final forty kilometres. I don't know what they were about, and I don't care. If you want to find out, do the miles and see. I know is I pull up outside Nambucca's V-Wall Tavern on a glorious sunny day. An immense feeling of achievement fills my sugar-crazed body. I have done it. I have challenged myself and been found worthy. I am unhurt, unbooked and so gloriously alive I almost kiss Thommo, the first FarRider to arrive just after me, but that would have been very strange for both of us, 'cos we've not yet met.

11 am onwards
That afternoon, I manage to eat two T-bone steaks (one for lunch and one for dinner), drink a metric shitload of beer to flush away the evil energy-drink gravy that has been coursing through my body, and indulge myself in some very appropriate self-congratulations. My sense of achievement is vast. I even manage to sing some Johnny Cash songs with the jukebox. When my buzzing, demon-filled head finally hits the pillow in the small, air-conditioned cabin I have rented in the caravan park behind the pub, I am sure I hear familiar voices whispering: 'You done good, bitch. See you next time.’
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p253-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 20, 2015, 08:59:35 AM
Victoria should be proud of itself. It has created the single most boring road in all of creation and stocked it with police cyborgs. I saw four different patrol cars taxing motorists for exceeding the 110 km/h limit on a road one could do 200 km/h on with absolute confidence. It's a road I have done 200 km/h on. It used to be the road you made up time on during your trip to Melbourne by putting your head down, your bum up, and aiming for the horizon with the throttle nailed to the stop. It was the done thing.
But not anymore. Now it's just a magically eternal cash register for the government.
 
But I grinned, I bore it, I agreed with Jon Bon Jovi that there should be no silent prayer for the faith-departed, and then I turned off the Hume at Euroa. The Merton Gap warmed the of my tyres, Marc Bolan informed me that Telegram Sam was my main man, and I pulled up outside the Country Club Hotel in Yea right on sundown. A light rain had just started greasing up the roads.
Jamie handed me a filthy scotch as I lurched through the pub doors, stiff from the road. We toasted my safe arrival, put on our gear and made for Uncle's house like vampires fleeing the dawn. One hour later, and ten hours and forty minutes after I left Sydney, I was in the warm embrace of good mates. There was a great fire, a functioning hot water system, several fridges full of beer, and a safe place to rest my head. Done right, this motorcycling caper rewards the soul on many levels.
My Mother Warned Me About Blokes Like Me  Boris Mihailovik  p261-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 21, 2015, 09:36:01 AM
When I returned from taking Tom home, I needed to find a place to park the Wing. We didn't have a garage so I parked the bike in our carport, in the space where my pickup normally sat. I did not want to leave it outside. Our house had a double front door and a large living room. Since Marguerite would be in Omaha for some time to come, and my son and I were the only ones home, I decided to park the Wing in the living room, right in front of the fireplace. As I rolled the Wing through the double doors onto the carpet, the words of my friend who told me to get a Goldwing, ran through my head. 'They don't leak and they don't break." It took a little manoeuvring, but I finally got the Wing settled into a position and dropped the kickstand. A Goldwing looks a lot bigger sitting in your living room, than it does outside!
I found myself strangely tired, so I went to the kitchen and mixed myself a large drink. I returned to the living room, sat in my easy chair, stared at the Wing, and thought about what I had just done.
Winging It  Marguerite & William Spicer  p11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 22, 2015, 05:49:44 PM
Coming off the Keys, I missed the turn for Highway 997, to go back through Homestead and on up Highway 27. Neither of us noticed; we were just following the crowd. I knew something was wrong when I saw a road sign out of the corner of my eye that mentioned Miami, but I didn't notice the mileage. The next thing I saw was the Miami skyline. The traffic was picking up in volume and speed by the second. All of a sudden, the road had gone from two lanes to four. Now I'm on an eight-lane road, surrounded by cars and trucks running at seventy miles per hour. I had only experienced this type of traffic in a car a couple of times and found it scary. On the Goldwing, it was just plain terrifying. I had no idea what road this was, or where it was going. I just knew we had to get the hell off as soon as I could get the Wing safely in the far right-hand lane. This was not going to be quickly accomplished. The speed kept increasing, and cars were changing lanes with reckless abandon. I am not an overly religious person, but I promised God if he would just let us live through this I would never come back to this place again. I knew we had to get off and head due west. If we could do that, eventually we would run into Highway 27.
After twenty or thirty terrifying minutes, I see an exit for a county road that heads west. I don't care how far west it runs. At this point, I just know it will get me off suicide alley and get me heading west. I hit full throttle, make a couple of moves, and make it to the exit lane. At the bottom of the exit is a stop light. Stopping the bike for just a few seconds was a welcome relief. Marguerite and I had both worked up a sweat. The light changed and I made my left turn, heading west.
Winging It  Marguerite & William Spicer  p29
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 23, 2015, 12:47:54 PM
I was hoping to get to Clewisfon and find a motel for the night. In the Corps, we used to joke about night flying. "Only fools and owls fly at night. Do your feet fit a limb?" or "Night operations are characterized by darkness and periods of reduced visibility." I was a little nervous about the whole thing. I didn't want to worry Marguerite, but this could turn in to a real bag of crap. We had a long way to go before we reached any level of civilization, there was very little traffic, and any mechanical failure or accident would be serious. I was getting tired, but had to reach civilization for any hope of a room.
I kept telling myself to just keep the scan going and stay alert. After a while, everything was okay. The air was cool. Marguerite and I were getting comfortable with sights and sounds of night riding on the Wing. We kept hearing these little popping sounds. There were things hitting our helmets and leather jackets. I could see swarms of bugs in the headlight, and watched them bounce off the windshield. They weren't soft and squishy. The bugs were hard. When they hit the back of my gloved hands, it hurt. The swarms would come and go. Eventually, Marguerite noticed the dead bugs accumulating on the seat in between us. The bugs were also piling up in between my legs. I was able to take my hand and sweep some of them away. We actually thought if things got any worse, we could just stop and use the Wing cover for shelter and spend the night on the road. When we considered how many mosquitoes would descend on us, we decided to let that idea go.
Winging It  Marguerite & William Spicer  p30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 24, 2015, 09:37:49 AM
A couple more Harleys had just pulled up. We didn't see the people come in because just about that time, the waitress showed up with a whole armload of food. I really don't know how she could have stacked that many plates on her arms, but was doing a great job. She placed Marguerite's food down and was just putting my cheese omelette in front of me, when someone pulled the chair out beside me and sat down. I was still concentrating on what the waitress was giving me, but I glanced to my right. The first thing I saw out of the corner of my eye was a titty nipple and some breast sticking out of a black leather circle. The nipple had a gold earring pierced through it. This sight broke my concentration on the cheese omelette, and everything else. I looked straight at Marguerite's face. If she saw anything unusual, it didn't show on her face. I risked a sidelong glance. The pierced nipple was still there. There was a short, greasy looking guy sitting down next to Marguerite. He was middle-thirties, about five-foot-seven, plump, dark long hair with the standard Harley rider bandana on his head. He was wearing a black tee shirt with the words, "Connoisseur of Cheap Wine and Sleazy Women". The guy looked like he needed a good bath, his hands were greasy, and it had been some time since he cleaned the grease out from under his fingernails. I looked at him, and then at Marguerite for some reaction. She had on her best poker face.
I heard the titty nipple say to me, "Gee hon that looks like a really great omelette!'
There's no concentrating on an omelette when a titty nipple with an earring in it sits down shoulder to shoulder next to you. I turned my head to complete the look and answer this person. She was middle-thirties as well and had a real weathered look. She wasn't unattractive, just hardened. Her hair was long and she had the Harley rider bandana scarf fashioned over a ponytail. Her ears were adorned with extremely heavy looking, long earrings that were made from horseshoe nails. The earrings hung down almost to her shoulders and tugged heavily on her earlobes. Her weathered face had a nice smile. She was wearing a black leather outfit with a bib front and a strap going up and around her neck. The bib had two holes in the leather, allowing the nipple area of her breasts to stick out. The nipples of both breasts held gold earrings. A gold chain connected the two earrings. The whole arrangement made my nipples hurt.
Winging It  Marguerite & William Spicer  p33
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 25, 2015, 07:51:00 AM
On one corner, we noticed a guy wearing what looked like a caveman get up. He also wore a horned, Viking style hat and was holding a rubber chicken. His ride was an old Harley trike, the kind police used years ago. His bike looked in perfect condition. He was waving at everyone that passed by and seemed to be having a hell of a good time. At the next light, a guy pulled up next to me on a really old Harley. He was a little, bitty, skinny fellow wearing a chrome German army helmet, sunglasses of course, black leather jacket with colours on the back, jeans, and really big, black boots. His lady riding on the back was enormous. I didn't know how he could hold the bike up. She too had a chromed helmet, jeans with knee length boots that were very high-heeled, and a reddish colour fake fur coat that was shaggy. She looked like a grizzly bear in high heels sitting on the back of the bike. The bike had two large flags mounted on the back, one American and I couldn't tell what the other was. It was quite a sight. The crowning touch was on a small platform mounted over the front fender. The platform covered with a green artificial turf rug. On the platform stood a little, bitty Chihuahua dog, wearing a little, bitty chromed German army helmet and sunglasses. I almost forgot to put my feet down as we came to a halt at the light. This guy and his bike stole the show for that trip up Main Street.
Winging It  Marguerite & William Spicer  p36-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 26, 2015, 09:57:10 AM
Just as I put the nozzle in the holder, I heard a scraping noise behind me. I turned around and saw the Wing slowly moving forward down the hill. The side stand was scraping on the asphalt. As the Wing moved forward, the side stand was slowly collapsing to the rear, which allowed the Wing to fall to the left. I stepped down off the fuel pump island just in time to halt the forward motion, but not the fall to the left. It was a slow motion fall, only I'm between the Wing and the pump island. The Wing was coming down and pinning me on the island. I fought as hard as I could to keep the Wing from coming down hard enough to hurt anything. At the last second, I managed to move my legs to keep them from getting hurt between the pump island and the Wing. I am in a semi-sitting position, with my butt on the pump island, and the Wing resting on my chest and legs. I can feel the moisture soaking through my jeans and cooling my ass. I can feel the sweat forming on my face as I strain the Wing up. There is no one around to help. I am embarrassed to be in this position and feel stupid that I didn't see this coming. 
Winging It  Marguerite & William Spicer  p68
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 27, 2015, 09:46:59 AM
It was taking all strength I had to keep the Wing from collapsing any further. I remembered a technique from motorcycle school, to help get a bike up if you were not strong enough or were unable to lift it on the two wheels. The technique called for starting the bike, putting it in gear, making sure the rear wheel was on the ground, letting out the clutch, and adding a little throttle, while simultaneously pushing the bike up. By doing this, the bike should pull its own self up. Of course this was on level ground, not pinned against the pump island on wet asphalt, on top of a damned mountain. In sheer desperation, I decided to try. I had put the Wing in neutral before I got off, which my first mistake on a hill. I got the key on, hit the starter, and the engine fired right up. I managed to slide my left foot to a position that I could just get a toe on the gear shifter, and clunked it into first gear. I took a deep breath and added throttle, letting the clutch out. The Wing jumped. I rocked off my butt at the same time and sure enough, the Wing came right up. The Wing and I came up so fast I almost went over the seat. I hadn't let off the throttle quick enough, so I just grabbed the clutch. The engine raced, the Wing started rolling down the hill, and I did a couple of ungraceful hops running alongside. I jumped to throw my leg over the Wing, like they used to do in the old-time cowboy movies. By the time I got to the bottom of the hill, I had the Wing and myself under control.
Winging It  Marguerite & William Spicer  p69

P.S.  I'd never heard of this technique.
Biggles
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on August 27, 2015, 11:52:02 PM
 Sounds sus? Never heard of this before.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 28, 2015, 08:10:18 AM
We left Swift Current just after sunrise. The traffic was nonexistent; our only road companions were a couple of long-range truckers. We listened to their conversation on the CB.
Unlike a lot of trucker conversations we have heard in the lower forty-eight, which normally always centre on low pay and lack of female companionship, these guys had an in-depth discussion on Canadian economics that only once punctuated with profanity.
We were paying close attention to what the truckers were saying and the next thing we knew, we were airborne. The road surface had separated and we had just flown off a good eighteen-inch shelf in the road. The trucks were about 600 feet behind us and both started screaming about the big bump. We hit hard enough to bottom out the suspension. We were doing sixty-five miles per hour at the time. For a split second, we thought we would lose control. We just sat real still and I tried not to make any steering inputs for that split second. The Wing settled out nicely. From listening to the truckers, the weather may have caused that section of the road to sink. Had this happened to us going the other direction, we would have been killed and so would the truckers. Absolutely amazing. The truckers stayed with us all the way to Moose Jaw.
Winging It  Marguerite & William Spicer  p95
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 29, 2015, 05:41:09 PM
I noticed as the day wore on, the Wing had been handling funny. I didn't figure it out until I was doing my post-ride checks. The temperature extremes we had experienced in Omaha had greatly affected our tire pressures. The tires had been okay when we stopped in Omaha, but the Wing sat there for the entire weekend, with temperatures in the upper twenties (oF). I didn't check the pressures before we left. Now, when I checked, both tires were low. The low pressure in the front tire had been affecting the handling, at both high and low speeds. I made a mental note to be more attuned to temperature change. I had done so in the mountains because I knew both altitude and temperature would have a big effect. I just didn't realize it would have such a big effect at lower altitudes.
Winging It  Marguerite & William Spicer  p189-90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 30, 2015, 12:05:53 PM
We finally got around Mount Tobias and passed by a little town nearing the lake. According to the map, the next town south would be Wofford Heights. We continued to ride, until the road ended at Highway 178. No Wofford Heights. We knew we were in the right place, but all we had seen was a big lake, no town. We retraced our route back to the northern end of the lake and took the turn into the little town we had passed earlier. Our butts were killing us, we had to get off, and I couldn't wait to ask directions.
The lady clerk in the convenience store watched us get off the Wings and come inside. You could tell that she had already labelled us as "the bikers from Hell”. We all got something to drink. The clerk watched our every move. I said, "Ma'am, we were trying to find Wofford Heights. Could you help us?" She gave me a strange look and said, "It isn't there anymore. They moved it. It's all flooded and under the lake now." I asked, "Where did they move it to?" She said, "Up here." I'd had enough. "Is there a motel and restaurant close by?" The clerk just pointed up the road to the east. We left the store and headed up the road to the east.
Winging It  Marguerite & William Spicer  p224
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 31, 2015, 08:47:49 AM
The roar in "Roaring Twenties" was the sound of an overheated stock market, not motorcycles. However, it was a great decade for hundreds of now-vanished manufacturers.
George Brough was a motorcycle maker who really captured the spirit of the times. His Brough Superior models were "the Rolls-Royce of motorcycles" and that wasn't an empty boast – the bikes were so well made that when Charles Rolls and William Royce examined one of them, they gave Brough permission to use their names in his advertising.
Most Brough Superiors were sold with engines outsourced from James A. Prestwich. Those "JAP" motors were supplied to many other builders, but Brough's came in special tunings that allowed him to guarantee that his SS100 model would really go 100 miles an hour. Each of Brough’s machines was specially fitted to its owner, like a custom suit. They were fast, comfortable and built to last, so it's not surprising they remain sought after to this day.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner Day 3  (day numbers up to 365, not page numbers in this book)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 01, 2015, 10:08:24 AM
In '62, American Honda sold 40,000 motorcycles through its 750-dealer network. When management set a target of 200,000 units the following year, Honda's ad agency, Grey, knew they had their work cut out for them.
Grey's creative types proposed a set of print ads showing students, women and couples - not the "typical" motorcyclists - on Honda's 50cc step-through Cub. The ads proclaimed, "You meet the nicest people on a Honda". In 1964 Grey produced a "nicest people" TV ad that ran during the Academy Awards.
The campaign not only launched Honda in the U.S. market, it redeemed the image of motorcycling as a whole.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner Day 7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 02, 2015, 09:55:29 AM
Here's a note from the Department of Scary Thoughts: many early motorcycle "carburettors" were just pans of gasoline that were heated by an open flame. Vapours produced that way were then burned in the cylinders. Back then, "crash and burn" was not simply a figure of speech.
Spray carburettors were obviously much safer, but early carbs lacked throttles. Riders controlled speed by simply choking the air intake, or by changing their spark advance.
Oscar Hedstrom, the engineer behind Indian "motocycles" was one of the first people to devise a throttle-controlled carburettor. That was in 1901.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner Day 13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 03, 2015, 09:36:23 AM
It is impossible to overstate the impact of the first truly mass-production four-cylinder, disc-braked motorcycle. When the CB750 was unveiled at the 1968 Tokyo Motor Show consumers gasped and the world press (and rival companies) were taken by surprise. It had been developed by a small team  working in total secrecy. The team leader was Yoshiro Harada.
Harada toured the United States a few years earlier, meeting American riders and Honda motorcycle dealers when Honda introduced the CB450 twin. That bike had sold poorly in America respite the fact that it outperformed much bigger British twins. He realized that the U.S. with its wide- open spaces, would embrace a big, powerful bike The decision to make it 750cc was based on the knowledge that Triumph and BSA were developing 750cc triples. It would be a four-cylinder bike to evoke Honda's Grand Prix racing heritage (and up the English). Finally, it would produce at least 67 horsepower, since the most powerful Harleys made 66!
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner Day 23
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 04, 2015, 11:11:08 AM
A few hundred motorcyclists got rowdy in Hollister on the July 4th, 1947 weekend. Townspeople admitted it had been no worse than what the cowboys did each year at the annual stock fair (and in fact the town staged motorcycle races in Hollister again just a few months later.)
A few days after the so-called riot, a photographer staged a photo of a beefy, threatening looking drunk, slumped on a motorcycle surrounded by empty beer cans. Life Magazine ran it, tnggering a media frenzy that lasted well into the 1960s. In a bizarre example of life imitating art, real gangs motorcycle outlaws were formed in response to those stories.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner Day 62
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 05, 2015, 09:48:21 AM
The Mont Blanc Tunnel is one of the longest and highest tunnels in the world, connecting the highway systems of France and Italy through the Alps. When a transport truck caught fire in the middle of the tunnel, the smoke and flames trapped about 50 people. Of those, 12 survived. All of them reached the mouth of the tunnel saying, "That guy on the motorcycle saved my life."
 That man was Pier Lucio Tinazzi, an Italian tunnel employee who rode his BMW K75 in and out of the tunnel - a seven-mile round trip through choking smoke and fumes - to bring people out. On the final trip, he came across an unconscious driver who he could not get onto the back of his motorcycle. He refused to abandon him and dragged him to shelter in a small room off the tunnel. Both men died.
Tinazzi was posthumously awarded Italy's highest honour for civilian bravery, as well as the Federation Internationale Motocycliste (FIM's) gold medal for exceptional courage and service to the sport of motorcycling. Every year, several hundred Italian motorcyclists ride to the tunnel mouth on the anniversary of Tinazzi's heroic deed.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner Day 69
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 06, 2015, 09:25:00 AM
Long before there was a Daytona International Speedway, races and record attempts were held on the sandy beachfronts of Daytona and neighbouring Ormond, Florida.
At low tide the damp, hard-packed sand provided a straight, dead level surface that ran for miles. It was perfect for land-speed record attempts. In 1904, the pioneering aviator Glenn H. Curtiss rode his two-cylinder motorcycle 67.36 mph - a class record that stood for seven years.
In 1907, Curtiss returned to the beach with a motorcycle powered by one of his V-8 airplane engines. That motorcycle made about 40 horsepower - a heck of lot in the day. It reached a speed of 136.27 mph.
Curtiss' V-8 wasn't just the world's fastest motorcycle - it was the fastest thing on wheels, period. The daring young man held the land speed record for twelve years until Ralph dePalma went faster in a Packard car, also on Daytona Beach. That was the last time that the outright land speed record was ever held by a motorcycle.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner  Day 96
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 07, 2015, 08:34:32 AM
Kenny Roberts had been frustrated that his Yamaha- powered flat tracker was nowhere near as fast on mile tracks as the Harleys. Then Kel Carruthers stuffed a four-cylinder TZ750 road racing motor in a flat track frame. The bike had far too much power even for Roberts. Carruthers had to rig it with a "kill switch" that shut off one of the cylinders, or it would spin the rear tire all the way down the straightaways. Still, the one time Roberts rode it, he won on it.
That was at the 1975 Indy Mile. After wrestling with it the entire race, Roberts somehow found traction coming off the very last turn. The bike shot down the track and Roberts passed a shocked Jay Springsteen a few feet before the finish line. After the race, he blurted, "They don't pay me enough to ride that thing!" He needn't have worried, the AMA soon banned it.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner  Day 128
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 08, 2015, 10:41:54 AM
Mike Hailwood established himself as the greatest I motorcycle racer of all time in the 1960s. With nothing left to prove on two wheels, he set out to become the Formula One car champ.
He won the European Formula Two championship in '72, driving for John Surtees' team. The next year he switched to McLaren and again showed good speed but crashed heavily at the Nurburgring, ending a promising car-racing career.
In 1978, Hail wood announced a return to the Isle of Man TT races, where he'd won his greatest victories. Between the late '60s and the late '70s, road racing had changed dramatically. Thanks to improvements in tires and suspension, cornering speeds were much higher. Racers now all hung off and put their knees down - a technique that was faster but far more physically tiring than the classic, tucked in style from Hailwood's championship years. Mike the Bike proved his doubters wrong when he won 1978 TT on a Ducati. Ironically the class he won was, also, called Formula One.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner  Day 150
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 10, 2015, 01:20:03 PM
The most-watched jump in the movies was a stunt in the 1963 film The Great Escape. Although the film's star, Steve McQueen, was a skilled and aggressive motorcycle rider, the producers wouldn't allow him to perform his own stunts, so that jump was made by McQueen 's friend and racing mentor Bud Ekins.
Ekins was a veteran Hollywood stunt man and one of the top desert racers in southern California. Although in the story, McQueen's character has stolen a German military-issue motorcycle, the stunt was performed on one of Ekins' Triumph desert racing I bikes, repainted in drab military colours.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner  Day 155
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bill Held on September 10, 2015, 01:31:10 PM
Triumph invented the oil leak & Harley perfected it.

Told to me by my father around 50 years ago.
 :blu13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bill Held on September 10, 2015, 01:32:12 PM
Only one thing better than a good ride and that is Two.
 :blu13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bill Held on September 10, 2015, 01:33:15 PM
Never walk when you can ride.
 :blu13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on September 10, 2015, 02:06:21 PM
Local supermarket here is opposite my mailbox, less than 100 metres.
I never walk to the supermarket.
I have two rides... one there, the other, back.  :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 11, 2015, 05:46:10 PM
The aptly named Rollie Free was a motorcycle racer as a young man but is remembered mainly as the subject of the most famous motorcycle photo ever. The picture shows Free, laying flat on a Vincent Black Shadow, wearing nothing but a bathing suit, on the Bonneville Salt Flats.
 Free had set several speed records at Daytona Beach before going to the Salt Flats in 1948. That year, he set a record at 148 miles per hour but wanted to reach 150. Thinking that his leather suit was causing drag, Free stripped and put on a skimpy bathing suit. Lying horizontally on the Vincent's fuel tank, stretched out like Superman, he did in fact go 150. Although Free was the guy who earned eternal fame for the stunt, he later admitted that he got the idea after watching Ed Kretz do the same thing at a speed trial on a California dry lake.
In 1950, Free returned to the salt and pushed his record to 156. He survived a high-speed crash that Speed Week - thankfully while wearing full leathers!
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner  Day 160
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on September 11, 2015, 05:53:52 PM
Brave/stupid man!  The salt surface is rough and course like highway bitumen, but the crystals have sharp edges unlike the rounded edges of the tar embedded stones.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 12, 2015, 01:22:05 PM
In 1979, Honda made an abortive attempt to build a four-stroke 500GP motorcycle that could compete with the two-strokes. The NR500 was one of the company's rare failures although it proved that the unique "oval piston" technology was viable. It was not until 1992 that oval pistons briefly appeared in a production motorcycle - the NR750.
The NR750 was Honda's "ultimate motorcycle" and the incredible motor (nominally a V- four but with 8 con rods, 8 spark plugs, and 32 valves) was only part of its over-the-top specification. It also had electronic fuel injection, a single-sided swingarm, carbon-fibre bodywork, magnesium wheels - and a $60,000 price tag. About 200 were made.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner  Day 184.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 13, 2015, 12:17:18 PM
"Mike the Bike" Hailwood was widely recognized as the greatest motorcycle racer of all time, based on his Grand Prix racing exploits and many TT victories in the 1960s. With nothing left to prove on two wheels, he became a car racer. Although he won the world Formula 2 championship, his car career ended when he crashed a McLaren Formula One car at Nurburgring. That crash severely injured his legs.
Mike retired to New Zealand. Years later, he announced he would return to the Isle of Man. In the interim, motorcycles had changed a lot. There were many who feared the worst. In practice, Mike was not the youthful hero people remembered; he was bald, he limped, he looked older than his years. But come the TT Formula 1 race, he gave Ducati one of its most famous victories. He proved the adage, "old age and treachery will always defeat youthful enthusiasm" when he returned again in '79, winning a fourteenth TT before retiring once and for all.
Bathroom Book Of Motorcycle Trivia  Mark Gardiner  Day 257
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 14, 2015, 08:56:20 AM
When I looked at the map, Route 80 would be a good choice to get to Chicago. Straight East and West travel. It was the fastest and most efficient way to get a lot of miles in before I broke off and toured the country. The first day of travel was rather nice. It did have a shower or two and I found out that a poncho was not the best rain gear. It flapped in the breeze and it didn't cover my legs. Oh well. I decided that I wouldn't travel in a downpour. When you're travelling on a motorcycle for 8+ hours a day you find that you must change positions quite a few times. Sometimes you crouch over like a café racer, sometimes legs are fully extended to the pegs, sometimes you stand tor a few seconds, just because. The Norton also had vibrations through the handlebars. After a while my hand became numb. It took my body about a week to adjust without becoming numb; the Norton wasn't the best touring bike.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p21
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 15, 2015, 08:37:44 AM
I must take pause here to take note about riding a motorcycle. On my adventure I will encounter many problems, (I mean challenges). There is a real thrill to riding a motorcycle and facing the elements head on. The elements give you a feeling of acceleration. You feel the wind rushing and the movement of the ground surging beneath you. There is no enclosure; you are part of whatever is around you. You are exploring the earth in its natural form. There is risk and adventure capturing its mystique. It's not getting from one place to another... it's the ride. I felt euphoric many times during this trip: riding through the canyons and valleys in New Mexico, sheer cliffs on one side of me and deep ravines on the other, accelerating over the hill coming down into a canyon with the setting sun giving the coloured cliffs an orange tint.
Hell! I was the Lone Ranger.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p22
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 16, 2015, 10:50:07 AM
Somewhere in Ohio I found a hotel after asking around. It was dark and I was in a town and I didn't feel like sleeping on the ground that night. I was directed to a hotel that had a lobby with seating, and a young guy sitting at the front desk.
He was dressed with a collared shirt but no tie and looked semi-businesslike. I asked for a room and he asked how long I was staying. I told him overnight and I would be leaving in the morning and I gave him a briefing about my trip. He said that overnight guests could stay for free.
He only charged people who wanted to stay for weeks at a time. He had inherited the hotel from his father and that's how he ran the business. He gave me fresh sheets and a pillowcase and gave keys to my room. Sometimes you just get lucky.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p23
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 17, 2015, 08:56:29 AM
I was putting a lot of miles on the motorcycle. The territory I was driving through had a lack of facilities and service stations. It was mile after mile of farmland. That's when my throttle cable broke. It severed at the handlebar and left the stem of the cable sticking up through the wire cable shield. I pulled over to the side of the road and tried to figure out how to keep feeding gas to the engine. I lifted the seat off the bike and took out my toolkit. It wasn't much of an assortment of tools but I did have a vice grips. I thought if I attached the vice grips to the stem of the broken cable I could pull the cable and activate the throttle. I squeezed the vice grips on the cable and kicked over the engine and bingo, it worked. I got on the bike, readjusted the vice grips so that I could drive the bike to accommodate the variable pull on the throttle and away I went. It was very clumsy but I thought I could make it to a service station that I hoped to reach soon. I drove about five miles and the clutch cable broke. I pulled over to the side of the crossroad, sat down and pondered the situation. I was somewhere in the middle of Nebraska with no one around and not in a heavily travelled area. Here's another fine mess I got myself into sat there I wondered why I didn't bring extra cables with me. It would naturally be one of the first things to break on a long trip. Oh yes, hindsight.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p26
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 18, 2015, 09:02:39 AM
I was at a remote crossroads in the middle of Nebraska. It was a wooded area and I planned wait until a vehicle appeared to see if I could get help. It wasn't too long before a truck with a flatbed and several motorcycles on the bed halted at the stop sign. I quickly ran over to the truck to ask it he could help out with my dire situation. One of the bikes on the truck was a Triumph. Norton and Triumph, both English bikes, have interchangeable parts. I asked if he had a spare clutch and throttle cable, and he did. Now I wonder if reading this, you think I am making this up. What are the probabilities of spare parts for an unusual motorcycle finding their way to the middle of Nebraska at this exact time? Very, very, very remote. I like the word dubious. We fixed the bike. I gave him a few bucks for the parts and away I went. Sometimes you get very, very, very lucky.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p27
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 19, 2015, 08:39:15 AM
While heading back from San Francisco I was pulled over police in Oakland. After a show of the twirling lights on the roof of the police car, I pulled over. I don't remember the reason they pulled me over except it had something to do with my license plate. I had a bad feeling about this because I never went for my motorcycle license test in Pennsylvania. I had a permit but it had expired a while ago. They exited the car and came over to meet me and asked for my license and registration and insurance card. The blinking lights drew a small crowd of black kids who were playing on the sidewalk.
The police looked over my cards and examined them carefully. I tried to look casual while they circled around my motorcycle a few times. Evidently they don't require a motorcycle stamp on the driver license as they do in Pennsylvania. They found no fault with the paperwork. One cop walked back to the police car, about 30 feet behind me, and told me to get back on the motorcycle. He then told me to look in my rearview mirror and asked me what his badge number was. If that wasn't entrapment I don't know what would be. I don't have eagle eyes. Fortunately by that time the kids were sensing a vehicle stop with the beginning of harassment. They got a little louder and I heard them remark with some phrases like, "He didn't do nothing," "leave him go," "wadda you doin?" I heard the word pig mentioned a few times. The police must have thought better of continuing the vehicle stop and got into the car after handing back my paperwork, and left the escalating scene. I got on my bike, gave the kids a thank you nod, and off I went.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p71-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 20, 2015, 05:52:47 PM
I was having fun. As I approached one of the curves, which was a blind curve, all of a sudden a tractor-trailer cab coming the other way passed me on my left. Following behind it was a large flatbed filled with redwood logs piled high. I was already into the blind curve and the cab passed me. I was looking at a very large flatbed and large trees charging at me with no place to go. This all happened in less than a second.
Perhaps you've had a   similar experience when time slowed your mind speeded up the factors that were about   to happen. figured that if I went forward any further I would be run over the  attacking flatbed. The    same would happen if I dumped the bike to the left. To my right was a sheer vertical hillside of dirt that would not allow me to dump the bike. All these options lead to death. I was about to die. Actually, I was okay with that.
What really happened without thinking was just instinctive. I leaned to the right and because the dirt was soft enough and I was going at the right speed, the hillside stopped the motorcycle without going another inch.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 21, 2015, 08:58:42 AM
Another event worth mentioning was the ticket I was issued in Washington State for not wearing a helmet while driving motorcycle. Every state has different laws about wearing helmets. I dropped my bike often enough to always wear a helmet while driving a motorcycle unless it was 110° in the desert. The officer caught me in a state of unawareness and issued me a ticket. After I made it home and had been in college for a few months, I got a letter in the mail from Washington State informing me that I hadn't paid the ticket. They were right, I had not. I had good intentions but at the time I was in college without any income besides the G.I. bill. I received a few mote letters without a threat to my license. Evidently there is no reciprocity between Pennsylvania and Washington. Finally they sent me a letter stating that my driving privileges in the state of Washington were revoked. I guess I'll always have to avoid driving through Washington State.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p94-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 22, 2015, 08:59:44 AM
Somewhere around Moose Jaw I caught up with a motorcycle pack going east along what I call Maple Leaf 1. I never rode with more than three or four other bikes. At the end of the pack was a single motorcycle and I drove alongside him and nodded my head and shrugged my shoulders and with my face gesturing, presenting the question: Is it okay to ride with the group? He shrugged his shoulders and gave me the yes gesture. Just like that I was part of the pack. There were a dozen or so motorcycles claiming authority over a half-mile stretch of the highway. A pack like this creates enough thunder to turn heads as you pass by or stop for a red light. You have the feeling of being part of a powerhouse that is questionably legal. I was allowed into this group without initiation. Like robbing a bank or letting my girlfriend, if I had one, ride with the leadership for a few months. Actually, the group started with a half a dozen bikes and picked up more stragglers like me as they continued their journey.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p105
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 23, 2015, 10:04:03 AM
There was a park on the right side of the road and a car pulling out of the park exit. It looked like a white, long, old Ford. It was filled with people and lumbering its way onto the road. There wasn't any traffic on the road except for us. He started his left hand turn to get on the other side of the road and continued his short but slow turn. I was pretty close to him but he still had plenty of time to make his turn. That's when he stopped.
His big old car was covering the whole right side of the road and came to a complete halt. Once again time slowed down to make a decision. I didn't have enough time or distance to go around in front of him. Nor did I know if he would step on the gas and I would windup T-boning the car. The only choice I had was trying to get round the back of his car without  hitting   the dirt shoulder and dumping the bike doing 50 mph. I was closing in fast and I went to the right and hoped that I wouldn't hit him or the shoulder. Well, I hit him and the shoulder.
It was a glancing blow off the bike and to his rear bumper. That part of the bike had a foot peg with my foot on it. The hit threw the rear end sideways onto stones on the shoulder. I kept the bike from falling somehow but kept going from one side of the shoulder to the other until I managed to get it back on the road and stabilize the ride. I was almost to the top of the hill when I could finally stop. I looked up and I was about 20 feet away from a hitchhiker. He must’ve witnessed my entire daredevil, Evil Knievel ride.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p109-10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 24, 2015, 08:27:43 AM
It was time to see if I could drive the bike with a cast on my leg. The cast had a small heel built into it so I could use that for pushing on the pedal for the rear brake. My toes stuck out the front so I put a sock over the cast. I had to make a slit up my blue jeans to get them over the cast. With the aid of crutches I got to the motorcycle. I attached the crutches to the sissy bar with all the other stuff using bungee cords. I got on the bike, kicked over the engine and away I went. It worked really well for a while. I must've looked like a wounded refugee on motorcycle, cast, crutches, and floppy jeans but I was putting some miles on the bike. Probably about 10 miles. I heard some clanking noises from the housing below the engine. Then I heard a snap. The secondary chain broke. I had enough momentum to pull into a gas station. The gas station was more of a repair garage. It had a couple of bays with cars on the lift and people working on them.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p115-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 25, 2015, 09:24:14 AM
I changed buses in Buffalo, New York and the next stop was Reading, Pennsylvania. I slept all the way through the ride and was still groggy when I got off the bus at Reading. There was a bus loading to go to Allentown and me and my crutches with the bag went over to the Allentown bus. Unbeknownst to me it was Sunday morning. The bus was packed with passengers. They were all silver haired church ladies. As I shuffled down the aisle after awkwardly getting up the steps with crutches and bag, all eyes looked down to the floor or out the window. They were as afraid of me as I as of them. Fortunately there was a mafia looking guy down the right side of the aisle who gave me eye contact and motioned that I was acceptable and I could sit next to him.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p117
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 27, 2015, 08:33:38 PM
We finally reached the garage. The owner was there and so was the motorcycle. I paid him storage fees and rolled the bike out to put on the rack. The motorcycle weighs 450 pounds. It was not an easy thing to lift and fit in the back but we did it. It fit very snugly against the rear of the Corvair. The Corvair's engine is in the rear and so was the motorcycle. Standing beside the car and looking at it was a sight to behold. It looked like it was ready for lift off. The front end of the Corvair barely touched the ground.
We piled in the car and drove it about a quarter of a mile. There was very little front tire contact with the ground. The car seemed to seesaw between touching the ground and being air-borne. This would not do. We turned around and went back to the garage. We took the motorcycle off and put the rack in the front of the car along with the motorcycle. I sat in the front seat and stared at the motorcycle which was eye level with me. I couldn't see over it. This would not work!
This was surely a comedy of errors.
Those Were The Days  Edward Walls p122
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 28, 2015, 08:07:27 AM
Driving a motorcycle is a sensual, visceral, and immediate experience. It's the blast of air parting in an almost physical way around your body. It's the feel of heavy steel machinery between your thighs and knees as you move through turns, running a good road on a clear warm morning. It's the taste of wet grass, deep woods, damp riverbanks, and freshly cut hay that finds its way to the back your throat. You know and experience what is around you and feel the very sensation of motion itself, in a way that you never can behind the wheel of a car.
In a car you drive a road, on a motorcycle you feel it. On a motorcycle every rise and dip, every change in surface or cant, every turn and straightway, is a temporal and physical experience. In a car you are enclosed, removed from what is without by the machinery that moves you. The windshield, the air-conditioning, the heater, the radio, the upholstered cradle of your seat, the locked doors, the surrounding frame, they all separate you from the reality of the road and weather. On a motorcycle the machine and the environment are an integral part of the experience. As you come home in the afternoon, the sun touches your shoulders with great warm hands. Somewhere in the middle of a long day of riding - especially on curves, where lean and torque, body and bike angle, gravity and speed, determine the physics and the line of movement - the machine becomes an extension of the body, a melding of what is human and what is mechanical.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p xii
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on September 28, 2015, 06:22:39 PM
So true!  ++
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 29, 2015, 09:53:25 AM
I walked a fine line as I taught. I loved my classroom and my students, but it was often mentally exhausting work. On the bike, however, out there with Rosie between the fields and the forests, I could leave the restrictions of my classroom behind. Out there, with four hundred pounds of machinery humming beneath me, my thoughts would center on what was immediate - the road and the surrounding environment - and my mind would relax and renew. Out there, hundreds of miles of secondary road riding later, I came to know, and to love, a region that was not my own.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p xv
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 30, 2015, 10:08:47 AM
It was on the way back to campus that I saw a motorcycle parked on someone's front lawn with a sale sign tucked between the handlebars and the windshield. I pulled over and walked across the grass to look at a piece of machinery that somehow had just started a song playing inside my mind. She was a Harley-Davidson 1200 Sportster, red with chrome accessories, black leather saddlebags and seat, custom straight pipes, a peanut tank, and less than three thousand miles on the odometer. I wrapped my right hand around the throttle and immediately realized that this motorcycle was something I recognized. Maybe she could teach me - as Rosie had taught me - love for, and connection with, a region that was not my own. Maybe this motorcycle could, as Rosie had done years ago, open a whole new landscape of thought and motion.
Lucy, as I came to know that Sportster, did all of that and more.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 01, 2015, 08:44:01 AM
The man behind the register had steady eyes, brown skin, and a sweet smile. He took my five-dollar bill and, looking through the window at the bags on Lucy, asked me where I was going. I almost didn't believe the unnatural squeak of my own voice when I heard the word "Alaska." Two minutes later, out on the pavement by the pumps, I was wedging my water bottle between theT-bag and the backpack when the attendant appeared.
"Here," he said, pressing a tiny tiger-tail keychain into my hand. "You should collect something from each state that you go through." He cast no judgment on my destination or choice of vehicle and in that gift, a promotional Exxon key chain, and the small suggestion to gather mementos along the way, was the implicit statement that such a journey was possible. My mind quieted and my confidence returned as he shook my hand and wished me luck.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 02, 2015, 08:22:18 AM
The metal grating that formed the roadbed of the arch was like that of the bridges that I had driven many times before across the Delaware River between New Jersey and Pennsylvania, but the span was longer, and not flat. I can understand why bridge builders like metal grating: it's relatively cheap, strong, and will not collect pooled water, or ice and snow, like solid surfaces. The problem with metal grating, however, is that its rough corrugations pull the wheels of motorcycles from side to side. It's an unnerving feeling to have a bike shift unbidden beneath you, and for a moment, coming over the uphill slope toward the apex of that bridge over the Mississippi, I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck as Lucy slid toward the guardrail. In the shift of the bike one must consciously control the instinctive reaction to set a foot down hard to correct an unexpected sideslip. I know people who have done this on metal grate bridges and have had broken ankles to show for it. Feet on the pegs, feet on the pegs. The words ran through my mind, a self-repeating mantra, and I tried to consciously relax and let Lucy run between my hands, guided yet loose, slow enough to keep control, yet fast enough to keep a driving forward momentum. We passed into Iowa without incident and I stopped to take a picture of that Mississippi River bridge: the divide between the eastern and western United States as well as a tiny personal victory.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p30-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 03, 2015, 10:20:42 PM
A tiny woman, sitting with her husband at a sparkling white Formica table onto which sandwiches had just been deposited, stood up.
"C mon, honey, Til take you down to the pump and you can use my card."
"No, I'm interrupting. Please, sit down, finish your lunch, I can wait."
"No, no, it's not going anywheres. C'mon, I've done this for others before, and I can certainly do it for you." Pat was in her late fifties with twinkling green eyes, carefully arranged hair, green slacks, and a white sweater so spotless it glowed in the misty afternoon light. At five feet three inches I towered a good head above her, but she seemed a woman who, for whatever she lacked in stature, more than made up for it in warmth and kindness. At the pump she ran her card through and we talked about her part of Kansas and my desire to see the country as I ran a little less than two dollars' worth of gas into Lucy's tank. I asked if she had ever done any travelling around the States.
"No," Pat said. "I'm not one of those travelling folks, going here and there. I like it here, the furthest I been away from Logan is Colby, and I don't want to go anywheres else. Some people they go here, they go there, but me, I like to stay home, and I've never really wanted to go and see... you know... the Grand Canyon ... or Las Vegas." The pump stopped. I screwed the cap back on the tank and reached for my wallet.
"Now you put that away," Pat said. "What is it, all of two dollars? I'm not going to take that from you." She wished me good luck, told me to be careful, stepped back into her white Cutlass to drive up the street to where her lunch waited. I pulled my driving gloves back on, watching her taillights and thinking about the people who spent years, and sometimes their entire lives, searching the world for what Pat knew she had in Logan, Kansas: an understanding of place, a sense of belonging.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p46-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 04, 2015, 09:42:03 AM
I pulled Lucy up and onto the narrow concrete porch that fronted the motel and tied her tarp down. There, under the overhang, she was partially sheltered and I could see her through my room's picture window. Perhaps three minutes after closing the door on the dust devils in the parking lot, the rain began in opaque slanting sheets and hazelnut-sized hail pelted down in a snare drum of noise on the metal roof. There are few things so blissful as to be dry and safe and sheltered when storm rages just inches away. With Lucy parked just outside the window, shedding rain and out of the worst of the weather, country music videos on the television, and a can of chili for dinner eaten cold with a spoon, I was content.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p52
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 05, 2015, 06:54:01 PM
Most motorcycle trips are olfactory experiences. I think it's true what I've heard said: that only bikers genuinely understand why it is that dogs like to ride with their heads, tongues lolling, ears flapping, and noses sniffing, out the windows of cars. The wind carries with it a thousand observations of the land that it brushes over. I had spent the last eleven days breathing the continent in. The forests and lakes of the east left the perception of dying pine and soft wet leaf mould in the air. Corn, springing from the black earth of Iowa and  Missouri, had a heady, fecund scent. The smell of growing wheat is different when a cool breeze shakes the heavy dew from its golden heads early in the morning and when it bakes in the sun late in the afternoon. It is the same plant but each scent is entirely different. In Colorado, what filled the air in the climb up toward the central ridge of the Rockies were the clean dry scents of meadow grasses in the sun, sage at roadside, and the upwelling of fir trees from the valleys.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p55
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 06, 2015, 08:22:26 AM
Route 82 continued in a long sloping drop that followed the Roaring Fork Glenwood Springs. At the Harley dealership the mechanics replaced my rear directional signal. They also suggested that my oil leak problems were due to failing umbrella valves. They could fix the valves, they said, if I left Lucy and a few hundred dollars in the repair bays on the following day.
"Could I use your phone to call my mechanic in New Jersey?" They were surprised by my question but graciously let me call from the office. Steve Scherer was in the shop when the call went through to Trenton, but he left what he was doing to come and talk with me. Five-foot-eight, all attitude and lean muscle, heavy on tattoos and light on patience for casual chatter, Steve had overhauled Lucy before I left. He was a good mechanic and I trusted him implicitly. I explained the oil, Independence Pass, and what the mechanics had said about the umbrella valves.
"Oh shit, Karen, them guys are just trying to make a buck. How high did you say that pass was? It's the pressure change, man, not the valves. Have them drain off some oil, change the filter, and if you're still having problems in a couple of days, then do the valves. Unless you want to spend a shitload of money and time? No? All right then. How's the trip, good? Good. Now put those assholes on the phone and call me back if you have problems."
I turned to the mechanic with a smile. "Steve would like to speak to you.”
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p61-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 07, 2015, 07:36:32 AM
The embodiment of his business, and a possible character out of a gunslinger paperback, Dave wore a black cowboy hat low atop his ears. Broad, gray mustaches swept across his face and joined forces with the substantial sideburns descending from his hat brim. His legs and hips were slim within dark blue jeans, and a huge "Dave" belt buckle sat at the bottom of a line of neat pearl buttons that closed his blue-green shirt. I handed him two dollars for the gas.
"Would you pour me a cup of coffee? I'm just going to go out and move the bike. I'll be right back.
"Sit down," he growled, not unkindly. "It can stay where it is." There was one pump and Lucy was blocking it. I mentioned this to Dave. It was the wrong thing to say. Bushy gray eyebrows dropped over narrowed eyes. "This is my place, ain't it? If I say it can stay where it is, it can stay where it is. Sit down!"
"OK," I squeaked and dropped onto a stool. Dave poured my coffee. I reached for one of the spoons bundled in a mug near the register and looked down to see a fund-raising letter from the National Rifle Association. The return envelope was sealed and stamped.
From the overhead beams hung a collection of hard-used baseball and cowboy hats. Most were ragged, sweat-stained, misshapen, and frankly filthy, mute testimony to the lives of 
the men who once wore them. He collected them from his patrons, Dave explained, sometimes forcibly removing the hats from their heads once he deemed them to have enough "character" to hang beside the rest of the collection. Five were nailed slightly lower than the rest: the headgear of deceased, but not forgotten, friends. Dave was gruff, yet warm, 
concerned, and curious about my trip. We talked for a while about my route through Utah and where I was going next. Then he reached behind the register and his hand reemerged holding an enormous heavy pistol. Crafted from solid steel, it was an evil-looking thing, a six-shooter with a long barrel and bone inlay grips.
"You carry one of these?"
"No." I thought it might not be prudent to mention how much I disliked firearms and how I thought that carrying one tucked away in a saddlebag would be one of the more useless things that I could do.
"You should. I don't leave home without it."
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p78-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 08, 2015, 08:21:40 AM
Charlie Hunt had the top-of-the-line blue BMW R1150RT, complete with CD player, and was the best-looking septuagenarian that I have ever seen. Only a few gray streaks peppered his thick auburn hair and the muscles of his chest and shoulders moved visibly beneath his tight black T-shirt. Charlie Applebaum had a Honda ST1100 ABS with sleek lines and a candy-apple red finish. A decade younger than his friend, Honda Charlie was no slouch either, and although he claimed that BMW Charlie could out-ride and outrun him, he seemed to be holding his own.
We rode out of Delta together, bounding over the open expanses of the flats and the hill country approaching the Nevada border at speeds in excess of eighty miles an hour. It was a glorious run; the roads wide and straight across the flats, banked and well turned up through the hills.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p80
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 09, 2015, 09:24:48 AM
It was a slow drive back to Cave Lake. A full moon was rising and the dark, open landscape began to shift and streak with long, nickel-plated washes of light. A combination of the night's beauty and my concern about the browsing elk that I had seen at roadside earlier in the day kept my hand on Lucy's throttle light. By the time I got back to my tent the moon was huge and full, a shining sphere that shimmered like mercury in the soft clear air and brushed the landscape with silver.
Months later, a letter from BMW Charlie arrived in New Jersey and, looking back on that evening in Ely, that conversation took on extra importance. As each of us attempted to articulate what it was that brought us to ride that high, hot, desert country, as we agreed that moving across America with the flow of the land beneath our wheels was an awakening of sorts, we did not know that their friend, riding Route 66, had been killed that afternoon. He had crossed an intersection and did not see the oncoming truck.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p82
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 10, 2015, 07:43:17 AM
I stopped at one of the gas stations on the main strip. A barrel-chested man dressed in full leathers was fuelling up a powerful new Kawasaki. The bike had Pennsylvania plates.
"Morning," I said. He nodded wordlessly and gave me a tight smile. "Nice day for it." I gestured at his bike. Something that sounded like a snort was his reply before he launched into a monologue of just how miserable he was riding his motorcycle, across Nevada particularly, and America generally. This was his first cross-country trip and he had planned it to spend time on his new machine, to visit with his family in California, and to be able to tell his friends that he had ridden all the way across the country. The last reason was a bad  one and he was not happy. He'd been riding interstates as rapidly as possible for the last six days and had seen nothing but wind, miles, highway embankments, and the taillights of trucks in his hustle to get from one coast to the other. He had found the previous day's storms as unnerving as I had, and he had little that was good to say about the enormous landscape that let wind roar unchecked across its incredibly open spaces. Not even to his destination, he dreaded the trip home.
He shook his head in utter disgust. "So where've you been?" I gave him a synopsis of my winding route of the previous three weeks and watched as his face took on a sickened aspect. "God, that's even worse!" he croaked. He paid for his gas and was gone, riding hard out of town before I finished pulling my gloves back on.
I thought about the unhappiness of that biker from Pennsylvania for a long time and wondered why, despite the occasional rough stretch of road or weather, my own experience had been so positive. It was late in the afternoon before I finally figured it out. Although both of us were going coast-to-coast and back again, we had vastly different agendas: I had no real destination, just a journey; he had no journey, just a destination.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 11, 2015, 08:02:21 AM
From Detroit, Oregon it was sixty miles of deep woods through the Mount Hood National Forest, following first the Breitenbush and then the Clackamas River. The road moved over low ridges, sometimes dropping with the rush and fall of the river, sometimes shooting into green-tunneled, dense-foliaged avenues, where shafts ot sunshine scattered like gold pieces over the road. Lucy sang and lifted easily over the rises, and my speed crept up as I watched the flash of light and shadow and breathed in the wet leaf mould and warming fir-needles smell of the forest. Oregon. The Greenest State. Maybe one day I would come back here, too.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p107
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 12, 2015, 08:55:24 AM
As the weeks and then months passed, I should have gotten used to the comments about women and motorcycles, as well as other people's perceptions about what "girls on bikes" were supposedly capable- or not capable- of doing, but I never did. It happened every day, without exception, that someone at a gas station, a parking lot, a diner, or a stop sign would make a comment about how surprised, delighted, shocked, irritated, or inspired they were to see a woman traveling alone on a motorcycle. Sometimes I appreciated it. Comments like A. J.'s earlier that morning were an affirmation and would have meant the same thing and carried the same weight if the word "man" was substituted. I was fully aware that not many people of either gender had the time, the opportunity, or the inclination to do what I did, and if people noticed, appreciated, or commented on that fact, I was delighted to hear it. It was, however, the purely gender-related negative commentary, offered simply because I was "a girl," that raised my hackles. People will question men on motorcycles about the power and safety of the machines they ride, their destination and the distances they drive in a single day, and whether they travel with companions for safety or company, but no one, ever, will question the fundamental abilities of a man to ride a motorcycle. It happens all the time to women.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p113-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 13, 2015, 07:02:02 AM
People always say that you cannot run from your problems. I have not found that to be entirely true. Especially with Lucy, and the intensity of focus required when negotiating two wheels through tight corners, problems are- at the very least- tucked away for a time. There they rest, back and out of immediate potential for damage, until the bike stops. With the cessation of motion they emerge again, but often with greatest circumspection and objectivity.
The diminishment of pain was not immediate, however, and in my loneliness I talked to Lucy and to myself as we crested the rolling hills coming out of Prince George. In the low rumble of her engine, she seemed to respond. "Shhhhh ...it doesn't matter. Let him go. Let's just disappear. There's nothing to regret except that he didn't love you as you loved him. I'll take care of you and you we care of me. We'll run together, far and fast, and everything will be all right. Lose this thing in the road." I was crying again inside my helmet, big slow tears. I thought about stopping, just sitting and watching the dissolved landscape for a while, but the desire to get away from Prince George, away from the pay phone at the Esso, and away from Dave was stronger.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p139
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 14, 2015, 08:50:24 AM
"How much rain did you get?" I removed my helmet, hung it with care on one mirror, took my earplugs out, and stared at him for a long moment. For some odd and perverse reason, looking at the mudless bikes just off the ferry from Seattle, at the women in their carefully applied coral pink and burgundy red lipsticks and their patches embroidered with roses twined into the Harley logo, I took grim pleasure in what I told him.
"Two days. Folks up in the Cariboo say it's not supposed to clear until Wednesday." For their sake I did hope that this assessment was pessimistic, but they were riding west, up and into challenging country and heavy weather. Their brand-new leathers would be pristine for about another hour. They were RUBs- Rich Urban Bikers- with the maximum of expensive gear, new bikes, and minimal experience. This was their first road trip, they said, and their plan was to ride into Jasper and then head south, down the Icefields Parkway and back to Seattle. I wished them luck and drier weather as they stepped onto their bikes, the women riding on the back, the straight pipes roaring. No one put in earplugs and no one put on rain gear. They would be considerably deafer and wetter by the end of the day.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p140
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 15, 2015, 08:43:17 AM
There was something odd about those bikers, however, they looked too ... clean ... and where was all their gear? None of the five bikers carried anything more than a single set of modestly sized saddlebags.
"Guys, where's your stuff?" I was genuinely impressed that they had managed to travel this lightly and hoped that they might be able to suggest ways that I could cut down on the bulky gear I carried. Not one of them seemed to be packing as much as an extra sweater. Now this was efficiency.
"Uh... well..." One of the tougher-looking men suddenly appeared sheepish. He rubbed the back of his hand across ten days of stubble. "... the girls came, too."
"The girls?"
Yeah, our wives. They're in one of the motorhomes back there." He jerked a thumb toward the line of the convoy. "They carry all the gear and we get a shower at the end of the day."  Ah, I get it now. This was not a bad deal; these men didn't even have to carry rain gear, and they could ride all day without having to worry about where to find spare parts, tools, or a dry place to sleep at night. From the women's perspective, if they did not drive bikes themselves, I could well imagine that taking turns piloting a motorhome, while still having a vacation with their husbands, would be far preferable to bouncing around on the passenger seat of a motorcycle all the way to Alaska and back from Pennsylvania.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p161-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 16, 2015, 08:15:39 AM
"You want to ride point?" The thought of leading five men on heavy bikes plus twenty or more other vehicles through the construction zone did not appeal to me. Riding point meant that the leader was responsible for finding a solid line through soft corners and for setting a pace that was safe for all concerned. It was always easier to watch and follow someone else's line and pace when going through such areas. Unlike many riders who learned to drive motorcycles as children, rocketing through sandpits and woods roads on dirt bikes, I had started driving relatively late, at sixteen, and had never learned to be comfortable riding gravel or soft surfaces.
"No, if you've gotten this far on your own we trust you to lead." The other four men nodded in agreement. Ah shit. Too embarrassed or too macho or too something to admit that I did not want to ride point, I pulled on my helmet, fired up Lucy, and grimly swung into the saddle. At the flagger's signal I moved feeling very much like a tugboat leading a line of tankers into treacherous waters.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p162
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 17, 2015, 10:06:06 AM
Sometimes, at the end of a long, cold, wet ride, when hands lock in frozen claws around the throttle and every downshift is a conscious effort to break and move paralytic muscles in the hands, lower legs, and feet, reaching the immediate destination- getting off the bike, finding food and shelter- becomes an animalistic need. Vision narrows, the mind slows, and the body assumes whatever position or mechanized function will best achieve speed and the terminus of the day. In the intensity of that focus, there is a temporary loss of some of what it means to be human; weather and pain become tangible, and internal conversations about anything other than the immediate cease.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p169
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 18, 2015, 07:46:13 AM
"I saw your bike outside." His tone was more aggressive than friendly and the smile dropped from my face. "It has New Jersey plates."
"Yes, it does."
His eyes narrowed and his voice became loud and challenging. "Do you mean to tell me that you rode that bike all the way from New Jersey?
Conversation at the counter stopped and the cashier and other customers were silent, staring at us.
"Yes."
He considered me for a long moment. "Are you on drugs?"
I laughed.  A skeptical eyebrow raised itself above the right lens of his glasses. I took a long swallow of coffee. "However, on days like this" - I motioned to the rain buffeting solidly against the plate glass, sheets of water coming in directly off the Cook Inlet- "I really think they might be helpful."
There was silence and then a giggle from the grinning cashier. Ultimately the man gave an amused snort and told me that he and his wife were from Pennsylvania and were, like me, spending the summer on the road. He asked about Lucy, how I chose my route, where I put my tent at night, and when I expected to return back East. His wife re-emerged from the ladies' room, the gas bill was paid, and he moved toward the exit. Nearly at the door he stopped and turned back to me.
"What a great trip ... I envy you."
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p186-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 19, 2015, 10:47:39 AM
There was more rain in the early grayish light, but it was diminishing, lighter than the torrents that had swept through the village hours before. Lucy's engine, as always, turned over with a low rumble as soon as I pressed the electric start and we rolled out onto the Alcan as the last of the rain fell. The bare, mineralized slopes of Sheep Mountain glowed copper red and sulphur yellow, and gravel-bedded streams channelled the snowmelt from thousands of feet above toward the topaz waters of Kluane Lake. With the wet road, new snow on the peaks, and winds howling down the slopes of the mountains, it was a dramatic ride; primal and bleakly beautiful, yet bitterly cold and damp. Ninety miles later, pulling into Haines Junction for coffee, chocolate, and gas, I stepped off Lucy, half frozen and feeling much less than half human. It was incredible how physically draining prolonged cold could be. I could ride ninety miles in a single shot on a clear warm day and never feel a hint of weariness. That same ninety miles, in the teeth of a freezing wind that chewed the sensation out of hands and feet, was an exercise in agony and exhaustion.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p207
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 20, 2015, 10:38:40 AM
The voice of Steven, my bicyclist dinner companion in Whitehorse, was in my ears: "I take three days to travel the same road that you do in three hours, but I know that road better than you ever will." Like the RV, I too, was rocketing along, blowing through thousands of miles. Over the previous six weeks I had seen the grandeur of forests, the tracery of coastlines, and the ramparts of great mountain ranges but I had to admit that, save for the occasional roadside stop, I was missing most of the roadside microcosms. Queen Anne's lace nodded on slender green stems, great filigreed heads bowing above the yellow primroses tucked in at their roots. Below, the slow gurgle of the river sang in time with the insects and I felt myself grow drowsy. How much we each missed, but how much we could each see in our different modes of travel, my bicycle acquaintances and I. I got the grand sweep of the continent, they got the intimate examination of a section of the same. Which mode was right? Which was better? I did not know and it did not matter. There was no absolute, each wanderer must find their own way.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p214
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 21, 2015, 09:03:10 AM
Although the Muncho Lake section was perhaps one of the most beautiful on the Alcan, it had also been one of the most difficult to build. In 1942, engineers had blasted the road, yard by yard, into the rocky slopes, hauling the rubble away with horse-drawn sledges. Lucy leaned and swayed into the corners. Nearly ten thousand miles into our journey, we were now less separate entities- rider and machine-  than a single moving being. It was fantasy, but sometimes she seemed to correct for frost heaves in the pavement, for the tightening lean of an accelerating curve, before I consciously realized it. Riding had become as natural as walking or breathing.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p219
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 22, 2015, 08:54:49 AM
The Alcan Highway cuts through the heart of Fort St. John. Although slightly wider in town than on the outskirts, it is still a single lane going in each direction with narrow gravel shoulders and a deep ditch on either side. At 8:30 in the morning, driving on the left side of the southbound lane, there was little warning and less time to react when a blue pickup truck, driven by a boy of no more than seventeen, forced past me on the left at probably double the speed limit. I edged toward the other side of the lane as his bumper barely cleared my front foot peg, but there was nowhere to go; his friend and racing companion was coming by on the right, one set of tires on the pavement, set churning through the gravel on the shoulder. For a heartbreak moment, as the boys jockeyed for position and an oncoming eighteen-wheeler appeared in the distance, I was sandwiched between two half-ton pickup trucks. There was no point in locking up the brakes, it would have done nothing but slide me one way or the other, into the side, or under the wheels, of a truck, from which there were now three to choose. A single clear thought flashed without panic, anger, or avoidance into my consciousness: I am going to die. The only thing to do was to release torque on the throttle, let the forward momentum decrease with deceleration, and hope the boys got past and away from me as quickly as possible. They did, one pulling in behind the other, a corrugated steel bumper narrowly missing my front wheel. The oncoming truck passed and both darted across the opposite lane and into the parking lot that fronted a shopping center. There they raced and circled one another like overgrown, metal-clad, and deadly puppies.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p227-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 23, 2015, 11:25:18 AM
Her name, as close to the pronunciation that I can approximate, was Kisiael. She was a university student in her home country (Japan) and had flown to Alberta six weeks earlier than the English course, which she was planning to take in Edmonton, would begin. Carrying two duffel bags and a selection of bungee cords, she had walked into the Edmonton Honda dealership, bought a single piston four-stroke 250cc Savage, bungeed her bags to the frame, and taken off into the Canadian wilderness for a month of solitary riding.
On any machine this took guts, but on the one she had it took more than that. Her bike was tiny, almost toylike, when parked beside the heavy steel contrast of Lucy's frame. It was new certainly, and Honda had a fine reputation for mechanical solidity, but where people often questioned the power and small size of the bike I rode, at 1200ccs Lucy had nearly five times the power and was half again as heavy as the Savage. However, Kisiael told me that for her this was a big bike; at home she was used to driving the 125cc bikes.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p141-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 24, 2015, 03:56:21 PM
Eureka was the first town and I stopped for gas and groceries and drank an entire bottle of iced tea while reading the cover story of the Montanan Standard. It seemed that Sonny Barger and the rest of the Hell's Angels were having their annual gathering and vacation outing in Missoula that week, and police presence was expected to be heavy. Aha, I get it now. Did the officer at the border think I was some sort of an outrider for the Angels, on my way to hook up with the gang in Missoula? It explained her initial frostiness. The newspaper's front-page picture was of Barger. He was photographed with three fingers closing the hole in his throat, a memento of cancer surgery, so that he could speak to the reporter. At his side was one of his lieutenants, a massive, black leather-clad man with a goatee and a spill of dark auburn curls that fell well past his shoulders. Although there was little to admire about the criminal activities of the Hell's Angels, I did have to laugh at Barger's quote, given in response to a clearly nervous reporter's question about the expected behaviour of the Angels in Montana: "We're just like your neighbours, only better looking."
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p269
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 25, 2015, 02:48:41 PM
Motorcycles are a great leveller of humanity and an enormous point of connection between people who take them, and their riding, seriously. You may have a thirty-five-thousand dollar custom machine straight off the dealership floor, and I may have a six-hundred dollar fourth-hand clunker with a suicide clutch and three gears out of five that actually work, but we are both out in the same wind and the same weather. Both of us are going to get hit with splattering bugs and have to watch for the same ignorant parent chauffeuring their kids to piano lessons who just doesn't "see" us as they make that left turn across our lane. We are all going to see the beauty of the landscape, to inhale its scents, and to experience the lift and drop of the road from a very different perspective than those within enclosed vehicles do. Regardless of race, class, gender, creed, language, or sexual orientation, regardless of whether we talk for five minutes or spend an evening over burgers and beer, and regardless of whether or not we ever see one another again, we are going to have common ground. We are bikers. At a gas station I have never seen anyone step from a car, turn to a stranger getting out of another and say, "Hey, you drive one of those, too? Isn't it great? How’s it running? How's the road ahead?" This happens all the time between motorcyclists.   
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p272-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 26, 2015, 08:24:09 AM
It was so easy to edge the pace higher and higher. I hadn't seen a police officer in days. Perhaps they were all in Missoula hanging out with the Angels? At a long sloping stretch I ran Lucy up to sixty, then seventy, eighty, and ninety miles an hour. She was a powerful machine for her size: we hit ninety five miles an hour, and could easily have flown faster.
Wide-eyed mule deer watched a few yards from the pavement, ears lifted long and alert above their delicate faces, as I whistled by. Occasionally a flash of white painted metal glittered at roadside. The state of Montana had placed as many small white crosses as there had been deaths at the sites of highway wrecks. The memorials were an attempt to remember the dead, but even more so to remind the living of the fatal consequences of excessive speed and inattention. After a few miles of earthbound flight I slowed Lucy to an easy seventy-mile-an-hour pace, thinking of my own reaction time, the speed of bounding mule deer, and the small white crosses beside the road.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p277
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 27, 2015, 09:03:44 AM
At the other end of the pull-off a biker with an immaculate green Electra Glide crouched near his front wheel adjusting the footbrake with an equally gleaming wrench. It is one of the understood codes of the motorcycling community that if you see a biker who looks like he or she is having mechanical difficulties, you pull over and ask if you can help. Prevalent stereotypes are such that people in cars will rarely, if ever, stop to help a biker parked on the shoulder of the road.  However, before I even started walking toward him, I knew that the man didn't need my help. He had a look of control and capability about him, expressed in the practiced fluid rotation of his wrist on the wrench, but there are times when code should be followed.
"Problems?"
"Nope. Loose foot brake."
He was tall. Even as he crouched I guessed that he stood about six feet, maybe a little more. A beaded belt fed through the loops of his spotless blue jeans and a pressed denim shirt hung across broad, square shoulders. The shirt buttoned to the neck and wrists, but as he worked and one cuff rose, I saw the band of heavy tattooing that encircled his lower arm. It was the terminal edge of an elaborate design and I guessed that his arms, if not his entire torso, were gloved in ink.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p290-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 28, 2015, 08:40:55 AM
Just like the time that I lost my balance in Colorado, there was not even a scratch or dent to mark her fall, but dropping Lucy on the outskirts of Sturgis as bikers went by in the hundreds, was devastating to my pride. More importantly, it nearly caused an accident as three bikers locked up the brakes on their own machines in their attempt to stop, turn around, and come help me. I already had Lucy back up on her kickstand and was checking her over when my three would-be knights errant roared up the gravel drive. All were truly beautiful men in their late twenties or early thirties, cut-off T-shirts exposing heavily muscled, tanned, and tattooed arms. This was awful. Was it too much to ask that the people who witnessed my humiliation should be kindly grandfatherly types? Was it strictly necessary that the men who viewed my weakest moment as a motorcyclist look as if they had stepped directly from a Chippendale calendar? At that moment I fervently hoped that the fuel-saturated earth would open and swallow me whole. It did not.
"Are you all right?"
Fine, just damaged my pride. "We saw you go down and thought you might need help." I could feel the scarlet of my face. I felt like an idiot. I was an idiot. I babbled some nonsensical explanation about slow turns, gravel, and distractions, thanked them for pulling over, swung a dusty leg over the saddle, and got the hell out of there as rapidly as possible. Dropping a motorcycle at Sturgis is the equivalent of the springboard diver who does a belly flop at the Olympics or the professional ballroom dancer who steps on her own dress and lands in a most ungraceful heap in front of the judges.  Humiliation.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p313
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 29, 2015, 09:09:38 PM
In the distance, thick bolts of lightning dropped straight out of the lowering cloudbank, followed almost immediately by thunder so intense that I could feel it through my sternum. I was only ten minutes out of Rice Lake, driving the line of an eastbound storm of Wagnerian proportions, when I decided that it was time to look for roofed shelter for the night. I estimated I had half an hour before the system was on top of me and real trouble began. Hunching down behind Lucy's windshield as the rain began to fall, I twisted her throttle and ran for the next community. Birchwood had a single motel; at forty-four dollars a night, had what looked like a flight of Valkyries not been lowing in, I would have kept driving. However, after one last hurried perusal out the motel office window, I dropped a credit card on the reservation desk and asked the woman to charge it.
Wrenching my luggage from Lucy's frame, I tied her tarp as tightly and as strongly as I could through her wheels and forks, gave her gas tank one final pat, and sprinted for the room. Five minutes later, walnut-sized hail joined the drenching rain and blasting wind. After changing into dry clothes, and tuning in the Weather Channel's tornado warnings for Rice Lake and northern Wisconsin, forty-four dollars did not seem so extravagant.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p333
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 30, 2015, 09:00:42 PM
In the elegance of the cafe with its polished glass cases or handmade chocolates and cakes, I felt tattered and a little road weary, but also strong and experienced, accomplished and capable. What a magnificent journey this had been. Now that there was so little of it remaining, I resolved to do the last four hundred miles with reverence, to pay attention to every lift and curve, and to make a song of this last stretch or road that I could carry with me for life.
Back on 221 noticed anew the sensuality of moving through space, riding the back of a motorcycle that swooped over hills and swung into corners like bird on the wing. Fifteen thousand miles and I still loved that flying, floating feeling and could wonder at it afresh each time I called it to consciousness.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p348
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 31, 2015, 11:13:23 PM
On the open road I had learned to accept each day for what it brought and each turn for what it revealed. I had learned something of strength and stamina, something of vulnerability and loneliness. I had learned when I had reached my limits, and when to push on. I had learned how to listen to both my machine and my inner voice, and to pay attention to what they suggested. Rather than looking to find myself, I learned how to lose myself in the road, to take each moment for what it was, and to open my eyes and heart to what surrounded me.
Breaking The Limit   Karen Larsen  p358
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 01, 2015, 11:47:28 PM
That, I thought, could be my last ride: to rediscover the United Kingdom before the age of motorways, very slowly, between towering hedges, over moors, along leafy lanes and back roads, to places I've been, and even more I haven't. There would be all of Ireland to conquer, and much of the north. There would be pubs, inns and B&Bs galore. I'd be on a small bike, very understated, no fancy gear or space-age suit, preferably just carrying a toothbrush and a credit card; I'd never do more than a hundred miles a day. Perhaps I'd find Trench Hall, the stately home where I spent two years as an evacuee, and I could reminisce about the house where my sweetheart lived on the Dumbarton road.
And then, as I thought about it, more and more episodes of my early life came to mind, some hilarious, some sombre.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p4-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 02, 2015, 09:44:20 PM
Trying to identify what this bike would be, I began to wonder whether I had trapped myself with an idea that couldn't be realised. And then, while l was in London, a strange little machine came tootling past me on Putney High Street and I was sold.
It was a scooterish affair with two wheels at the front. I had never known that such a thing existed. I looked it up on the Internet and there it was, the MP3, half scooter, half bike, made by Piaggio who also made the Vespa. It was strange enough, I thought, to unseal the lips of all the bibulous bystanders in Blighty. I had in my mind's eye an enticing, if rather quaint, picture of myself as an elegant gentleman of a certain age, probably in kid gloves and a silk scarf, rolling up to a rustic coaching inn where loquacious locals lounging around with foaming pints would be intrigued by this phenomenon - "Why, sir, may we enquire what brings a fine gentleman like yourself to these parts, and on such an unusual conveyance?" - thus unleashing a tide of tales and reminiscences, which I would dutifully transcribe that night behind mullioned windows by the light of a guttering candle... maybe the picture was somewhat overdrawn, but you get the idea.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on November 02, 2015, 10:09:07 PM

What an odd little toy?

(http://i1029.photobucket.com/albums/y352/kjm47/piaggio-mp3-lt-10_zpsjrsnfqml.jpg)  (http://i1029.photobucket.com/albums/y352/kjm47/PiaggioMP3400LT24kW-168734_zps4pakmzgr.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 03, 2015, 12:53:23 PM
I was really surprised, but by now even it I'd had the chance to change my mode of transport I wouldn't have taken it. How can I explain why this little contraption I was riding seemed so perfectly appropriate?
It has the innocence of a toy, nothing so purposeful as a motorcycle, let alone a car, yet at the same time it is a definite conveyance, a rolling seat, a vehicle out of a children's story - you get on it, and off it goes, like an ambulatory armchair. No gears to think about. All you have to do is steer it. I could have been Toad of Toad Hall, or Pooh Bear. I was wearing my elegant light tan leather jacket, my yellow kid gloves and a silk scarf. The only thing wrong with this picture is that I wasn't wearing my flat hat and goggles.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p29-30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 07, 2015, 11:39:56 AM
Sorry about the hiatus.  I've been through a house move, a house sale and am still trying to retire by selling my business.
I am reading (when able) "Rolling Through The Isles" but it's more about his youth and the English countryside, so bike-specific quotes are a bit scarce.
I'll be back to full service soon, hopefully.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on November 07, 2015, 01:20:44 PM
 :popcorn :popcorn :popcorn
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on November 07, 2015, 02:35:13 PM
 ++
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Shiney on November 07, 2015, 04:23:15 PM
Thanks mate, I look forward to the next quote.
I hope the sale goes well and you settle in to you're new place soon :grin :thumbs

Sent from my SM-N9005 using Tapatalk

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 10, 2015, 10:37:31 PM
Still hoping to find a route away from the main roads I wasted a lot of time dodging off into inviting little lanes only to find myself forced implacably back on
to the highway. The weather - my enemy - looked awkward, and I could see I was fairly sure, sooner or later, to get wet again. Of course, getting wet is a big part of biking, but I couldn't bring myself think like a biker. I clung to the illusion that I was a gentleman of leisure, ambling across the countryside, and
such a person travels in sunshine. He would not be seen cocooned in waterproofs. The rainclouds were interspersed with patches of blue and I rode on determined to slip between them. And, in fact, I managed quite well for about twenty minutes, until a great ugly black mass reared up in front of me. With my tail between my legs I scooted back to the last petrol station and waited until the doom-laden cloud had passed over.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p70
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 11, 2015, 08:58:48 AM
At the time, of course, as we sailed down the A6 in the Austin Baronmobile, everything appeared normal, but in my mind's eye I can still see the open road. Imagine it. An open road.  In England.  Not just a gap in the traffic. Emptiness.  Ah, here comes a bus, all alone. It stops. It starts again, and disappears in the distance.  More  emptiness.
On this journey, as I ride around on my little praying mantis I curse the traffic. There are times when I see the endless onrushing horde of cars hurtling towards me as a Hitchcockian nightmare in which blind metallic things have taken over world.  And they have, and it is a nightmare.  Even though the people in the cars think they know what they're doing, where they're going and why, the sum effect is mindlessness.  Outside the metallic skin of the car, at a different level of perception, it is all insanity.  No intelligent being would ever design a social order in which hundreds of millions of people are forever dashing around in boxes on wheels.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p77
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 12, 2015, 08:47:10 AM
Today the volume of traffic on British roads is ten times what it was when I started travelling around, and the consequence for drivers in this small, densely populated island was inevitable.  Most driving in Britain today is like navigating a board game - snakes and ladders but without the ladders.  On the main road system, at junctions and elsewhere, the surface is a grid laid out with multi-coloured lines and symbols, and every square confronts the driver with signs imposing new rules and threatening new punishments.  It has happened gradually, and I suppose most British drivers scarcely notice it, but coming from the wide open freeways of America it hits me hard.  Today the control exercised over the average journey is so thorough that it is now quite reasonable to expect thinking machines to do the driving for us, and there are plans to make that a reality.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p81-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 13, 2015, 10:00:08 AM
The next day I made a life-changing discovery and, as with all such revelations, wondered what had taken me so long.  I found that I could set my Tom Tom to a maximum of 30 mph, and the result was breathtaking.  It was like stepping back into a different world where everything was small-scale and local, where the important thing in life was not how to get to London or even the nearest big town:  what really mattered was the shortest way for your horses to go from the hayfield to your barn.  Most of the way from Newport Pagnell to Dorchester, I travelled on tiny lanes without names that skirted fields of rape and corn and cattle, sometimes between high hedges, sometimes with glorious views.  I disappeared into forests, plunging through viridescent tunnels of greenery to burst out into sunlight again.  Most of these roads were so narrow that two cars could scarcely squeeze past each other.  Sometimes my path would dog-leg across a busier road, or pass through some small village, but hardly ever did I meet anything that could be called traffic; when I had to cross over a motorway or some other high-speed corridor I could look down and gloat over the poor creatures caught up in their mechanical madness.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p94-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 14, 2015, 01:53:03 PM
And because the buses in those days all had open platforms, with a single vertical rail to hold on to, there were challenges to be met when running to catch a bus or jumping off at the lights - all much too dangerous, of course, for our modern, foolproof age.  It was generally assumed that people would behave reasonably, and the conductor was there to control things, with shouts of "Move along, please," and "No standing upstairs".  Although I never personally saw an accident caused by letting passengers take their lives into their own hands, there must have been some.  My cold-blooded inclination is to believe that there are people who will find a way to have an accident however hard you work to prevent it, and the more you do to prevent it, the more tedious life becomes for the rest of us.  Perhaps this cynical attitude was born during those days on the 31 bus because quite often, as I rode to school, a house that had been there the day before was now just a heap of tangled iron and masonry where, during the night, a flying bomb had landed or a rocket had ploughed into the ground.  At the corner of the High Street and Earl's Court Road, there was a big restaurant that was blown up during the lunch hour.  Nobody could tell where the next bomb would fall. Life was evidently a lottery.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p106-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 16, 2015, 02:01:26 PM
One evening after dark, when I was driving with a friend through the Hammersmith area, two cars passed us, one following the other in close succession. They were both black and unmarked, and in the second or two that I saw them I thought they might have been Jaguars. They were moving at a speed that seemed utterly impossible. There was a reasonable amount of traffic on the road but they moved through it silently, effortlessly, and so unbelievably fast it was as though we were at a standstill. Indeed that was the effect they had on me. One second they were there, the next second they were gone, and we had hardly moved. Their drivers' ability to manoeuvre through the traffic was superhuman. They might have existed in a different dimension. Never before or since have I seen anything like it. I waited to hear the crash which must surely come, but they vanished into the night without a sound. Who and what they were I never knew. Was one chasing the other? Were they together? Nothing surfaced in the news, and there was no one to ask.
The memory of it recurred many times. Gradually it settled into a realisation that while we follow our normal behaviour and assume it to be the only reality, there may be others living at a quite different level which we only occasionally glimpse. A similar window opened when I once saw, quite incontrovertibly, a ghost - or rather, as would-be experts later told me, an 'astral projection'. It changed everything about my beliefs, and nothing in my life.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p120
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 17, 2015, 12:17:47 PM
At one point, where the road with its hedgerows seemed almost unbearably beautiful, I thought I really should take a picture, and just as I had stopped to get out my camera, a girl came cycling up the gentle slope. I asked her if she would snap me. It was probably thoughtless of me to stop her on an uphill climb. With a French accent but not much pleasure, she agreed, took two pictures and cycled on up the hill. Annoyed with myself for stopping her, I thought rather stupidly that I might make amends by taking a picture of her, giving no thought at all to how I would get it to her, but imagining that in some way it might become an amusing episode to write about.
So, some way after I had passed her I stopped to take her picture, and found myself taking a picture not just of her but of a man cycling behind her who was obviously her father. When he glanced across at me I suddenly saw myself, through his eyes, an elderly man lurking in the bushes, grey hair blowing in the wind, surreptitiously photographing his daughter.
Mercifully they didn't stop. I have no idea how I could have explained what I was doing. This confusion that I have with my own identity is ongoing. The person I see when I look in the mirror is not at all who I think I am, but usually when people talk to me they seem happy to accept me as the person I feel myself to be. Suddenly, and disturbingly I saw that this might not always be the case. I could get into trouble. Soberly I rode on, digesting this unpleasant information, as I made my way to my next destination, the Smuggler at Lyme Regis, where I had a friend.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p144-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 18, 2015, 01:54:11 PM
When I rode around the world on a motorcycle it never occurred to me to do it for charity.  I wonder why not.
Perhaps I'm just not very charitable, but something about the whole business makes me uneasy. There's a sweet smell to it. If people want to give away money (and I'm all for that), why does someone have to push an ice-cream cart across the Sahara or bicycle backwards to Burundi to make it all right? From the point of view of the performer, I guess it stiffens the resolve to know that there are people watching. Otherwise, if I were halfway across the Sahara, unobserved, and all my ice-cream had run into the sand I might question the meaning of it all and give up. Doing it for charity, I suppose, gives the goofiness some kind of cachet. You'd never do it if it wasn't for a good cause and, in the end, you get a shot at celebrity. These days, that's as good as gold.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p149
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 19, 2015, 09:27:44 AM
I had an important meeting in Sussex in a couple of days, so there was no time to go further west. I plucked a couple of B&Bs out of my book, at strategic distances, and started buzzing back through Bodmin, Liskeard and Tavistock, and before I had come to my senses I was in the middle of Dartmoor without much petrol in my tank. I suppose of all the ways of dividing people into two kinds, one of the most common would be between those who are prudent (and boring) and go back, and those like me who are in denial (and stupid) and decide to chance it.
There are not many parts of England where I feel vulnerable, but I suppose Dartmoor might be one of them. For the first thirty miles I can't remember any traffic, or any sign of life. A perfect location for a highwayman to be operating, I thought. Well, at least that scourge has disappeared off the roads of England. Little did I know what would be coming my way.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p167
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 20, 2015, 11:50:41 AM
The spinach back then was quite unlike today's light green, tasty leaves: it was dark and leathery and so packed with oxalic acid that it set your teeth on edge, which was why Popeye was pressed into service to sell it to us.
It was quite customary then to eat more or less the same thing every day, just as we wore the same clothes every day. In fact, sameness was the outstanding feature of life in the forties. Every day was more or less the same, and Sunday was like the rest, but emptier. The interest and excitement in day-to-day life was what you conjured up for yourself, which I realise now was no bad thing. In my case it came from what I was learning in school, from books I was reading, from hobbies and, of course, the overarching excitement of a war in progress. What were Voroshilov's tanks doing today? How far had Monty got in North Africa? Food was only a minor source of pleasure. When I could get away with it I took the threepence I given to pay for the school lunch and used it instead to buy a much tastier fishcake from a lady with a little shop in Fulham Road.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p198-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 21, 2015, 12:25:52 PM
In a way I see the fast-food trap as a metaphor for our life today. You can load the salt, sugar and fat on to everything. Films? Think special effects, mayhem and superstars. Politics? Think non-stop news cycles, Murdoch and fear-mongering. Sport? Think grossly overblown multi-billion-pound circuses like Formula One and the Olympics. Lifestyles? Think second mortgages, everything on tick, drugs and booze ad nauseam (literally, at two a.m. on weekends). The excess is both wretched and mediocre. We know none of it's very good but we're too lazy to work for anything better. For many who grow up without any particular aim in life (an all-too-common condition today), the only thing that seems worth doing is to make money. Those who can prey on those who can't, but none of it is very satisfying. I am fairly sure that what really lies behind the latest rash of riots, which are happening as I write these words in 2011, is not criminality, or resentment, or original sin: it's boredom and a dim sense of self-loathing.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p201
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 22, 2015, 12:10:56 PM
Even on such a pleasant day there were winding sections and sharp bends among rocky outcrops, wreathed in patches of heavy fog, enough to give me an inkling of what a winter crossing would be like. And then on the uplands I just gave myself over to the joy of moving through beautiful country, immersed in the scents wafted on the wind, one of the special pleasures that come with riding a bike.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p202
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 23, 2015, 09:25:40 AM
Plainly this whole area I'd been travelling through lately is no stranger to water and I'd been lucky to stay dry. There were clouds above and moisture in the air as I rode on some sort of a ring around Dumfries. Too lazy to dig out the map I told my TomTom to take me to Thornhill and pretty soon what started as a decent little road turned rough and rugged. Then it began to rain. Not much. Not enough to force a decision. Just enough to make life miserable. The hedges closed in on me, wet leaves tried to slap me in the face, the tarmac reared up, puddles formed, the little front wheels skittered about on the bumps and, although I knew they were stable, I never got over the feeling that they were about to slide into the ditch. The road made sharp, blind turns but luckily there was almost no traffic. I'd forgotten that my TomTom was set for tiny roads, and when I remembered I was too far along to go back. Funny how difficult it can be to rise above expectations. I'd programmed myself to travel in comfort. In my normal travelling mode these conditions wouldn't even have raised an eyebrow. But I must admit that rain has always dulled my appreciation so, as I came up to Thornhill, I didn't absorb the beauty of my surroundings as I should have.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p205
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 24, 2015, 08:10:23 AM
Well, on our way back we came through Ballymoney because it was inconceivable to Drew that I would leave Northern Ireland without paying my respects to Joey Dunlop, and of course I deferred to his wishes and kept to myself the embarrassing truth that, although I dimly recognised the name. I was by no means sure what he was famous for. Even as I write these words I blush with shame, but nevertheless that's how it was. As we entered Joey's bar, almost the first thing I saw was that very fast Honda motorcycle hanging from the ceiling, with a number 3 on the tail, so I had a pretty good idea of what it was Joey Dunlop did for a living. I also grasped that he was no longer doing it, due to death.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p234-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 25, 2015, 11:31:19 AM
My relationship with death-defying sports is complicated. I don't do them mainly because I'm scared. On the other hand, I do other things that scare me, so fear can't be the only reason. I understand the need to take risks, but not for their own sake. I have enormous respect for the determination the discipline and the focus that enable people like Joey to bring everything they have so close to the edge, again and again. I know a lot more about Joey than I did when I entered his bar. I know that he won the TT Formula One in five consecutive years, that he rode and won a phenomenal number of races, that he is considered one of a handful of the most admired racers of all time, and that he was a smashing bloke who cared for his family, who did a tremendous amount for children in Romanian orphanages, and was honoured for it. And this is what gets me. He must have loved life as much as I do. He avoided all the nihilistic sectarian strife, must Have seen it for the dreadful waste it is. With the mental and physical qualities he possessed, with his skill and dexterity, he would surely have succeeded at so many things. Why put your life on the line every time? Well, I've had this discussion with others, and there's a lot I obviously don't understand.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p235
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 26, 2015, 08:45:27 AM
Jochen works for a company in Dublin that installs security alarms but he himself is big and strong enough to frighten off any intruder, and he rides an appropriately big motorcycle. He was kind enough to suggest that we go off together next day to inspect the Wicklow Mountains, even though riding beside my tiddly three-wheeler might expose him to scorn and derision.
We rode south and crossed the Liffey at Newbridge, where I forced him to take picturesque shots of me by the river, and then into the national park from the north, through Blessington.
Rolling Through The Isles  Ted Simon  p240
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 27, 2015, 08:55:19 AM
On frosty winter mornings, I stuffed a few newspapers — hot off the press — down my shirt to ward off the cold. And, in what I thought was a stroke of genius, I filled the handlebars of my bicycle with boiling water and plugged each end with a cork. My hands stayed warm for at least 10 minutes, and two or three nine-penny meat pies staved off hunger until I made it home for breakfast. I worked at after-school jobs and on weekends I picked strawberries. During the holidays I apprenticed for an electrician. Despite my good work ethic, I was caned regularly at school and my most favourable school report read, "Ronald is a born leader. It's just a shame he leads others in the wrong direction." At the age of 12, I rode on the back of a family friend's motorcycle, an experience that left me with a burn on my leg from a hot exhaust pipe and a fire in my belly to ride a machine of my own.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 28, 2015, 11:24:59 AM
The FN's handlebars, controls and pedal gear had been removed in Brisbane to keep the crate as small as possible. Reassembling it, with every man and his yak getting in the way, wasn't easy. Each took a turn at passing me tools I didn't need; and each just had to check that the horn worked. My patience was being sorely tested. No sooner had I unbolted the metal crate than it vanished. The Nepalese know a bargain when they see one.  No doubt the container would be sold for a tidy sum.
Caught up in the urgency of the moment and suffering the effects of high altitude, I was all fingers and thumbs. The gas tank had been emptied before the flight, so I needed fuel. All the fuel outlets in the city seemed to be waiting for a delivery. What now! One fellow finally relented and parted with two litres from his own bike — at an exorbitant price.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p19
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 29, 2015, 05:26:01 AM
Dark clouds gathered overnight, and when I set out for Pokhara early next morning, the storm hit with a vengeance. The FN started well initially, but when the motor became saturated it died. I tried roiling it downhill, but it refused to start again until I took shelter and dried the spark plugs and distributor. I don't mind riding in rain, but this was over the top, especially with the electrics constantly dying on me. My Huskie gear stood up to the elements for nearly four hours, which was remarkable considering the deluge. Eventually though, moisture began to seep through the seams, and my fancy waterproof boots also gave up the ghost. I refused to give in. Hunched down low over the tank, I was barely able to see a thing through the pissing rain.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p23
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 30, 2015, 08:33:12 AM
Once, when negotiating my way through a convoy of trucks, one driver decided to reverse, missing the bike by centimetres. My shouts fell on deaf ears. Only when his passenger jumped down from the cab to give directions was I noticed jammed between the truck and cliff face. His incredulous stare attested to my narrow escape. I leant against the bank and waited for my heart to stop pounding before I pushed off again.
At Palpa, Nepalese customs stamped my passport, then insisted I get a copy made for them. I followed their directions to a printer. An hour-and-a-half later, when the power came back on, I got the copy. I had chosen this route to avoid the endless paperwork and long delays usually encountered at busier border crossings. Something wasn't working.
On the Butwal side of the border, it was election time and the immigration office was closed until 1.00 pm. A strong military presence persuaded me that taking photographs wouldn't be welcome. While I and waited, the tea wallah was sent to get refreshments. When he returned, with hot tea and ginger-nut biscuits, I was contemplating a vast compound full of derelict trucks, motorcycles, and 4WDs.
"Why are all these vehicles here?" I asked. "Where did they come from?"
"Many travellers with no papers," he replied, his head wagging rhythmically side to side, "so police lock up their transport."
Each vehicle, tyres flat, bodywork weathered and dusty, stood testament to unfilled overland dreams.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p26
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 01, 2015, 11:36:43 AM
Each morning, the same routine: stretch inlet-valve springs; check tyre inflation; remove grit and water from carburettor bowl and jet. It was puzzling me that the contact points in the magneto were widening quickly yet reducing engine performance. This is the opposite of what normally happens.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p29
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 02, 2015, 12:32:21 PM
A little later, I stopped when I saw a sign, on the side of a building, for Airtel. It turned out not to be a shop selling phone cards, as I had hoped, the sign being simply Airtel advertising. But my stop was not entirely in vain. When it turned out that the owner's daughter lived in Brisbane, he dashed to the phone to tell her that a man from Queensland was in his store. Although it was the middle of the night in Australia, I was invited to exchange a few pleasantries with Rosa. She was extremely polite, insisted her family give me all the support I needed. Without hesitation, her father urged his son to take me on his motorcycle to a phone shop. Something must have been missing from our conversation because, once I had my phone card, the boy then took me to the bus station.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p56
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 03, 2015, 10:21:16 AM
About 2 About 25 biker club members gathered in a park on the weekend to raise motorcycle-safety awareness. A large crowd attended, and many, young and old, paid a lot of attention to the FN. One lovely gesture, among many, came from a woman who apologised for not having a gift for me-  so she bought me an ice cream instead.
The FN and I appeared on television across the nation. It wasn't surprising therefore, that from then on I was often recognised. People everywhere wanted to shake my hand. I found it strange to be treated like a celebrity, but understood people's fascination with what I was doing.
At night Omar took me on a street crawl of some of his favourite eateries. Among regional delicacies we savoured bulls' balls. Omar used a novel way of paying the bill; he would buy a phone-card for a specific amount, tell the retailer the scratch number to install on his phone, and everything was square. I'd never seen anything like it before.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p64-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 04, 2015, 08:16:10 AM
I needed to get a shim made to adjust the crown wheel. It had to be 0.7mm thick. Had I been able to make it understood that all I needed was a piece of tin and a pair of tin snips, I could have cut out one in 15 minutes. But no- the workshop men, after being gone for four hours, returned, proudly showing me a shim they had manufactured. It was 1.5mm thick!
Why did I keep doing this? I couldn't seem to help myself. People always did their best to be helpful, usually professing to know far more than they did. It was as if that, by saying they couldn't do something, they would lose face. Even if they had experience working on modern motorcycles, coping with a veteran machine needed all sorts of other knowledge and skills. By not wanting to be condescending or unappreciative, I kept allowing myself to be sucked in every time. I sighed, and set about doing what I should have done in the first place: rummage around for something that would fit the bill. Among the rubbish, I found a used oilcan — and, with scissors, I cut a correct-size shim in minutes.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p84
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 06, 2015, 12:48:56 PM
More and more, I found myself talking to the motorcycle, so much so, that I felt she deserved a name. So it was Effie.
I'd been mostly happy with Effie's power since changing the rings. All still appeared to be going well apart from a repetitive 'clicky-clacking' noise, which now seemed more pronounced. Maybe I was imagining it,or simply the sun was frying my brain. Effie and I chattered away for miles, coaxing each other to go just a little further before the next rest stop. I sang to her, mainly songs from the 1960s. I didn't know any from 1910.
Because of the heat, I only managed 26 kilometres that morning before pulling into a cafe. The Coca-Cola was cold and quenching. I asked a policeman why all the trucks were overloaded. Knowingly, he replied: 'Because then they only have to do one journey. It would take two trucks to carry the legal load.'
Logical, my dear officer, logical!
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p88
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 08, 2015, 10:27:16 AM
Jalil, a young custom officer, presented me with cold cans of peach nectar and insisted we give him a call when we reached Zahedan, capital of Sistan and Baluchestan Province, where he lived. Before we left, he said: 'Your escort is very worried because the police have explained to him, in English, that you are both tourists. But he has interpreted that as terrorists, and does not want to take you.' We all laughed.
Once Hayashi had sorted out his paperwork, we rode on, with police motorcycle escort in tow. We travelled about four kilometres and then waited 45 minutes for another escort. This time, none of the escorts had vehicles of their own, so police commandeered a pick-up from a reluctant passerby, relieved us of our passports and accompanied us halfway towards Zahedan.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p102
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 09, 2015, 07:59:48 AM
Finally, tempers cooling, we were chaperoned out of Zahedan. One car sat immediately in front of our bikes, another close behind. For the first few hours, the escort changed every 30 kilometres or so, then we went much longer distances before there was a change of bodyguards. All the time, we were being urged to speed up. I understood the sense of urgency in getting us through the restricted zone as quickly as possible, but this just wouldn't work for Effie — it was ridiculous to expect her to maintain such an insane pace.
My preferred routine was to stop regularly, rest the motor and check the bike. Because of the forced high pace, I was pumping more oil into the engine than I knew was needed because there was no way of guessing when the level was correct. I knew that if I saw oil dripping onto my boot everything was well lubricated. And I was afraid to push Effie any harder.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p105
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 10, 2015, 09:40:56 AM
During one of my nightly Skype sessions with Lynne, 1 had mentioned that I wondered why people kept refusing payment for the petrol they bought for my bike.
'What are you saying to them?' she asked. 'Nothing. I just show them the scrap of paper that Jalil translated for me into Persian. It says, 'Can you help me buy petrol?'
'Maybe it doesn't read exactly what you intended,' said Lynne.
'You could be right. I'm now wondering if they think I'm on a pilgrimage and that their donation will help me on my way.'
Only later, when someone who spoke English and read my note, did the light dawn. Basically, the message was asking everyone to buy petrol for me! I recalled one man, after he had filled my tank, said, 'We re all terrorists right?' It was embarrassing to realise that the note might have come across as if I was begging. My mistake.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p108
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 11, 2015, 11:14:20 AM
Now something new was on my mind: a high-pitched noise from the rear. It happened as the day drew to a close, and I was coasting down a particularly long hill. The light was almost gone and it was too late to do anything until morning. As part of my regular maintenance, I religiously packed fresh grease into the crown wheel, so it had to be something else in the driveline that was causing the noise.
At first light I removed the back wheel, pulled the crown wheel and pinion apart, and repacked the pinion bearing with grease. It was several hours before I was able to drive away from the Hotel Bezginier, where I'd spent the night.
Cresting more hills than I cared to count, I only managed 120 kilometres before camping well after sundown. My oil-stained, grimy cargo pants and shirt clung to a bone-weary body. How much longer could I keep this up? Mile after mile, hour after hour, day after day, the hills were relentless. Just one moment of glee: Effie, on her second wind, actually passed a truck!
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p152-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 12, 2015, 08:57:24 AM
Beyond Central Anatolia, I was riding on the gentle undulating 100 highway that meanders through a farming region. It was a comfortable, effortless ride. But conditions didn't stay that way for long, and, with strong headwinds, it was taking immense concentration to keep Effie on the right side of the road.
During this ordeal, I was stopped by two young men driving a van decorated with an image of one of their Repsol super bikes. These riders were trying to tell me something, so they phoned a friend to translate.
The man on the phone said: 'They want to eat you.'
I hoped he meant: 'They want to invite you to lunch.'
The guys threw my backpack in the back of their van, instructed to follow them, and took off. Doh! I'd just committed the cardinal sin of giving my gear to someone I didn't know. I might never see it again. Everything I had was in that backpack — including the carnet. If Lynne had been there, she would have had my guts for garters. Jeez, am I a slow learner!
But they were genuine, and directed me to their motorcycle shop, Inan Motors, where they put Effie into the showroom. There, a mechanic, who set about cleaning her, was in for a rude shock. As he turned the back wheel, the motor kicked into life. An incredulous look spread across the startled fellow's face. It was priceless, and everyone fell about laughing. We were still chuckling as we tucked into a tasty lunch of kebabs, rice, bread and the ubiquitous watermelon.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p161
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 13, 2015, 12:06:07 PM
On my way to Sugag, after one long hard climb which got tougher as it went, I suddenly found myself over the top and hurtling down the steepest road I'd ever had the misfortune to encounter. Brakes full on, engine killed, yet Effie was still doing her minimum speed of 19 kph and I had no hope of stopping her.
I hung on, knuckles whitening as we slalomed. Thinking it couldn't get worse, I skidded around a sharp bend and was horrified to see excavator clearing a rockslide spread across the road. Escape? Over the edge of the cliff, infinity! On the road, a tiny gap, but only as long as the excavator didn't fill it! Could I squeeze through? For a second, I wanted to pray (but to which gods should I turn?). Was unseen traffic coming up the hill I was careering down? Would I slam into the loader? Whichever course I took, I felt I was a goner.
Effie, her little valves clattering, tore into the stretch of roadworks. No traffic controllers in sight, but suddenly workmen gesturing and shouting. No chance to wave back — and photo opportunities were definitely out!
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p178
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 14, 2015, 09:14:44 AM
I made it to Szolnok, where I had booked my first nights paid accommodation in Hungary. The engine noise problem had been nagging me all day, so I checked Effie all over. I noticed, as I attempted to undo the spark plug terminal, that the porcelain on the steel body of the spark had come loose. This was allowing air to be sucked in and a small amount ot compression to be blown out. But none of this was happening until the plug had heated up. By replacing the Bosch plugs with NGKs the frightening noise went away. However, compared with the plugs I had started out with, no replacement was quite as efficient.
I tried to avoid freeways whenever possible, even though at times they were preferable because of the helpful signage. The downside of freeway travel was that I attracted the attention or the police. 'You're going too slow,' complained one officer.
'The minimum speed on the highway is 60 kph,' said his partner.
The FN's handbook emphasised that Effie was capable of 100 kph because of its high gearing. However, with beaded edge tyres it was more reassuring sitting at a much lower speed. Because I preferred to travel at less than 60 kph, I carried a bogus document saying my bike was only capable of only 40 kph. I'd met no minimum speed limits earlier in my travels, so it usually made sense to produce it when police insisted I travel faster. But now the tables were turned: no good me claiming the bike could only do 40 kph, so I agreed to turn off at the next exit.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p185-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 15, 2015, 07:26:39 PM
During the planning stage I decided I wanted to ride the Bertha Benz Memorial Parkway. It was on this route through the Black Forest in 1888 that Karl Benz's wife, Bertha, drove her husband's hitherto untested car without his knowledge. The parkway runs between Mannheim and Pforzheim.
There was no petrol in those days — or, for that matter, cars — so Bertha fuelled her contraption with alcohol bought from pharmacies. It is also said she used a long hairpin to clean a fuel pipe, and one of her garters to insulate a wire. On her arrival in Pforzheim, she told her husband by telegram of her success. And then a few days later she drove the 100 kilometres back to Mannheim.
Bertha's adventures enabled Karl Benz to make important improvements to his vehicle, including lower gears to tackle hills, and better braking power. I felt it an honour to ride Effie on a route taken by such a forward-looking auto-pioneer. Markers now commemorate Bertha's feat.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p209
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 16, 2015, 03:12:10 PM
"Congratulations, Ronnie, you got to live your dream," she cried, her eyes glistening, "I never doubted you would."
I should have been jumping for joy, but I doubt I had it in me. Instead, I had goosebumps, and felt giddy with relief. Congratulations showered on me from motorcycle friends and factory workers crowding around. I posed for cameras in front of the impressive FN logo and factory. Lynne captured Effie's bicycle speedometer — 14,606 kilometres. Some distance!
Robert Sauvage, CEO of the Ars Mechanica Foundation, joined us. A keen motorcyclist himself, he shook my hand warmly and invited us to return for a formal reception two days later. I hadn't expected any recognition, but it was gratifying to know that he and others in the field truly appreciated what an epic ride I had made; a journey that had taken stamina and endurance, both of which, at times, I hadn't always been sure I had in me.
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p219
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 17, 2015, 10:52:49 AM
I plan on returning to Europe to take part in a few veteran motorcycle events, and last, but not least, to ride coast to coast across the USA. A tall order I know, but I'm confident that once the restoration is completed Effie will be as good as new and able to rise to the occasion.
My journey was a test of endurance for man and machine. And I admit it's not a challenge that would suit everyone. Despite experiencing several close calls, I rarely felt unsafe. Luck, karma, call it what you will, does, I believe, play a large part in any bold undertaking. For me, it isn't dying that is scary. It's doing nothing.
I love the saying by James Rohn, 'If you are not willing to risk the unusual, you will have to settle for the ordinary.'
No Room For Watermelons  Ron Fellowes  p225
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 18, 2015, 11:01:23 AM
For one reason or another, Tony had to delay working on the Wing until the fifteenth of June. I was getting a little anxious. I wanted to be with him to learn as much as possible, in case I had trouble along the way. I was most interested in how to get the fairings off. Once the fairings are removed, it is straightforward mechanic work. We found our problem in the brake master cylinder. The location of the master cylinder is not one of Mr. Honda's better ideas. To get at the brake master cylinder all the lower fairings must come off, the battery, battery box, left-hand baggage compartment, exhaust pipes, and several other bits and pieces. It's a big job just to get at the damn thing. Luckily, all that was needed was a rebuild kit. However, when you take apart the exhaust system, there are some gaskets that need to be replaced along with some other minor parts. Having to order these and then wait for their arrival took some time. Since the tear down was so extensive, I asked Tony about doing the timing belts. Honda recommends they be replaced at about ninety thousand miles. That's just about what the odometer was showing. I told Tony we might as well do it now while we are all torn apart. Tony agreed. I finally got the Wing back home in one piece on Monday, June 23rd 2008. With the exception of an oil change, I felt the Wing was ready to travel.
Winging It Again!  Marguerite and William Spicer  p7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 19, 2015, 11:46:20 AM
The first motel we come to is a Best Western. The motel parking lot is a sea of Harleys. The desk clerk provides a room for a mere $198.00 and that was after lowering the price $100.00 because there were only three rooms left and she wanted to fill up and turn on the "No Vacancy" sign. Some people paid $298.00 for the same room.
There is some urgency as we unload and cover the Wing for the night. There are some impressive lightning flashes and heavy claps of thunder. Fifteen minutes later, the heavens open up and it rains and hails (dime size) for almost an hour. There is about a foot of water flowing down the small street in front of the hotel. It's both scary and impressive watching the water rage down the middle of the narrow main street.
We make our way to the motel restaurant and bar, get some great seats by the window, and watch the storm while having our dinner.
We are both extremely tired after such a long day and are asleep by eight o'clock that evening, after a gruelling 466 mile day.
I don't know how long the storm lasted last night because we both fell asleep as soon as we got back to our room. We awake to clear skies and cool temperatures, fifty-eight degrees. For the first time since leaving home our big jackets will be required for riding. The rain last night has soaked everything and it takes a while to wipe down and dry off, even though we had a bike cover. The Wing is the only motorcycle at this motel to have a cover. The Harley guys were looking longingly at our equipment. I get a couple nice offers for the Wing cover but decline.
Winging It Again!  Marguerite and William Spicer  p20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 20, 2015, 12:23:38 PM
While unloading the Wing, I was concerned about the crowd that was gathering on the sidewalk. Most were indigenous fellows that piled out of a bar next to the hotel. I was becoming quite worried about the overnight safety of the Wing. I went inside and talked to the desk clerk about the situation. She told me this was the "Yukon". I couldn't argue with that and this was a very tough looking crowd. When I went back outside, these guys were even closer to the Wing. I got the impression they were wondering what might be of value. I kept a smile on my face and continued putting the cover on the Wing. One guy wanted to sell me a slightly used GPS and another native wanted to know if that was a CB radio on the left side of the Wing. I knew if I didn't come up with a plan there was gonna be trouble of some kind, for sure. By now, the crowd of natives had grown to at least a dozen. I was definitely outnumbered and most likely outgunned. I could tell they were feeling strength in numbers and might just decide to take whatever they wanted. Suddenly, I had a brainstorm. I announced in a very loud Marine-like voice, "Marguerite, break out your camera and start taking pictures of every one of these guys. Take every damn one of their pictures. That way, if anything happens to our motorcycle anything else, we can show the police exactly who was here." Marguerite caught on before I finished talking and by the time she'd snapped the third or fourth picture, the natives were scattering. By the time I finished securing the cover on the Wing, there wasn't a soul in sight. I went inside the hotel and watched the Wing through the lobby window for about fifteen minutes. No one even came back to the bar next door, so I felt our tactic had pretty well made the Wing safe for the evening.
Winging It Again!  Marguerite and William Spicer  p39-40
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 21, 2015, 09:09:13 AM
We think our only option is to return to Fairbanks before it gets too late. She calls the Bridgewater Hotel, the one we stayed in last night. Suddenly, the rate has gone from $90.00 to $150.00. We take a pass.
We haven't eaten all morning. It's noon; we are very cold and getting hungry. A couple of guys who look like locals tell us there might be a restaurant and some place to stay in Cantwell, but it's off the main road a couple of miles. They give us directions. I say we give try, but only for two miles. Sure enough, there is the place. It's closed. There is a sign on the window that reads, "No Food, No Booze, No Rooms, No Nothing. We Are Closed. The Woman's Crazy and She Has a Gun!" There is a railroad track right near the place and there are some workers. We see a worker walking near the track and stop to talk to him. We ask if he knows anything about the road closing. He does. The road is closed for ten miles in either direction from the wreck site. They are evacuating anyone within that circle. The railroad guy says they have to evacuate some ot their personnel as we speak. As for the sign on the place across the road, the guy says it's all true. There is nothing here at all.
Winging It Again!  Marguerite and William Spicer  p46
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 22, 2015, 09:33:35 AM
The tailgate on the truck was down. Kenny had placed a couple of homemade loading ramps between the tailgate and the edge of the ditch. This had lessened the angle considerably but still gave me cause to wonder. The ramps weren't solid; they were more like ladders because the rungs were almost a foot apart. They were probably perfect for loading a quad runner with large tires but I wasn't so sure about a near 1000 pound Wing. We discussed this for a moment but Kenny seemed confident the whole thing would work. All I had to do was ride the Wing up about a 10-degree incline, using a wet metal ramp, with enough speed to get up the ramp but then stop the whole thing in the 8 foot bed of the pickup truck. I couldn't put my feet down until I was in the bed of the truck, so if I tipped to one side or the other it would be a long fall. To add just another small element of difficulty to the manoeuvre, the Wing was coughing and spitting, making it difficult to apply a smooth throttle application.
Marguerite had decided to remain in the warm, dry motel room and not come capture this evolution on film. I was glad. If this went all wrong, I really didn't want her to see any of this process.
I decided to approach this much like a carrier launch in a Harrier. A lot of things are going to happen very quickly in a very short distance. If you don't get the sequence right you could get wet, injured, dead, or even worse, look bad. I ran through the sequence in my head and let out on the clutch. I was amazed that it all worked, a little shocked at how quickly I was into the bed of the truck and how short and slick the bed actually was. Kenny was nonplussed during the whole process. As soon as I shut the engine off, he was right there to start tying the Wing down. Within a couple of minutes, the whole thing was over and he said he would see us at eight the next morning.
Winging It Again!  Marguerite and William Spicer  p62
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 23, 2015, 09:04:02 AM
We rode the Wing into Haines to sightsee and check its performance, it ran so rough; I didn't think it would make the two miles into town. Our son, Rob, had been keeping close tabs on us via the internet and cell phone. When I told him about our problem he did some research and came up with the name of a fuel additive that was supposed to work wonders for water in fuel, bad carbs, etc. I located the one and only NAPA store and purchased a can of "Sea Foam". I got the only can they had left in stock. There was about a half tank of fuel still in the Wing. After reading the instructions very carefully, I guestimated the amount I needed to add and after carefully pouring it into the tank, I closed the tank and shook the Wing from side to side. I hoped it would mix up pretty well before trying to start the Wing. The Wing managed to start but was running rough. I held my breath as I pulled away from the store. It was a miracle. I hadn't ridden two hundred yards and the Wing's engine suddenly smoothed out. It had been running rough for so many days that I almost didn't know how to act. This stuff was living up to all the claims on the can. I didn't know what the hell was in it, or why they called it "Sea Foam", but I knew I would replenish my supply as soon as I could and keep this stuff handy for the remainder of our trip.
Winging It Again!  Marguerite and William Spicer  p67
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 24, 2015, 09:36:03 AM
We had a few glimpses of the "Rock", Alcatraz, and the Golden Gate Bridge but now I could take as much time as possible going across without holding up traffic or getting run over. I had sailed beneath liie bridge several times in my life, bound for some exotic places. I had driven across a couple times in a car, but on a Wing it was just a great experience. We were both shocked when we had to pay the $6.00 toll. I guess they have to pay for that red paint somehow. All too quickly, we were across and I could see the dome of the Presidio. We got off the 101 and were now on Lombard Street. We hoped to find a reasonably priced place within walking distance of Fisherman's Wharf. This area of Lombard Street would put us within five or six blocks. After three or four tries at some very small out of the way motels, Marguerite managed to get us a room in a Travel Lodge. It was the closest walk to the Wharf and the most reasonable price. Even with the hassle of the traffic, it was exciting to be in such an interesting city again. We settled into the motel and decided to save the Wharf until tomorrow. We were both joking about how chilly it was and the same yellow jackets we wore daily in Alaska sure felt good here. We remembered the old Mark Twain saying, "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco."
Winging It Again!  Marguerite and William Spicer  p82
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 25, 2015, 08:37:52 AM
I have no particular memories of motorcycles as a child except for an occasional story about my father having one as a young man. In the early years of my marriage to Brenda we bought a 1967 Triumph Bonneville which was the hot bike for its day. As anybody who owned a 60's Triumph knows, you couldn't go far from home without a tool kit. The longest ride I can remember taking was about 50 miles round trip, but every ride seemed fun. When Brenda became pregnant, the bike was sold.
After receiving tenure I decided it was time to seek balance in my life. I began to think of that 1967 Triumph Bonneville and the enjoyment that it had brought to Brenda and me. Each Spring the thoughts would occur. It was not until Spring 2000 that I decided to take action. One day I called Brenda from work and said, "I'm going to buy a motorcycle."
"You are?" Brenda replied. "Okay."
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 26, 2015, 09:41:14 AM
There was an unexpected consequence from buying the Goldwing. My motorcycling friends were primarily those I had met electronically (not in person) on the Shadow Riders' Forum. Now that I no longer had a Shadow, it seemed that I did not have as much to share. I suggested that there needed to be a forum for all kinds of bikes, focused on touring. One of the members agreed and said, "Why don't you start one?"
I didn't know much about how to go about starting a forum, but managed to get one set up, calling it the Motorcycle Tourer's Forum (MTF). I didn't really expect it to grow but the next thing I knew, a couple of people showed up to post messages.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 27, 2015, 11:57:55 AM
The Dusty Butt 1000 is 1,000 miles in 24 hours on gravel, and is a ride developed by Will and Jen Mender, and Dan and Beth Huber. I tried the Dusty Butt and that is my only true DNF (Did Not Finish). I was officially considered a DNF in the Iron Butt Rally, but I got to the finish line - so to me, it is a DNQ (Did Not Quit). During the Dusty Butt I lost my eyesight in one eye before four in the morning. We were riding cow paths. When riding a Dusty Butt, you can't get on pavement except to get to the next dirt. So it was a total of 1,060 miles. The 60 miles were just to get you to filling stations. They don't have filling stations on dirt roads.
The route had about seven questions we had to answer, such as writing down a certain name at a graveyard, to make sure we didn't cut across or cheat. Other than gas stops, we were in remote areas with wildlife and cows everywhere. It was free range so we had to be very careful.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p34-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 28, 2015, 09:27:15 AM
Terry Hammond was a hugely popular figure in the motorcycling community, having established the Moonshine Lunch Run. In November 2010, he died of a heart attack at age 53. It was a shock to everybody, but Terry's death hit Tim and me especially hard. Every day of our ride Tim wore a Moonshine sweatshirt with Terry's picture on the back and left his passenger pegs down, a sign that there was an invisible passenger riding.
I started to think about how many of my friends had to stop serious long-distance riding in their late 60's and early 70's. I also thought that, at age 68, this might be Tim's last big ride and, given my health issues, mine as well.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p44
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 29, 2015, 10:24:49 AM
We had decided that we were also going to try to complete the Iron Butt Association's USA South-West Challenge (Key West, Florida to Homer, Alaska in 14 days) as part of our ride. With a starting time of May 15, 2011, 10:21 a.m. EDT, we would have to arrive in Homer no later than May 29, 10:21 a.m. EDT. We would not be taking a direct route. Our 35 Bay by Bay Adventure route required us to ride along the southern coast to San Diego before heading north, turning a 5,448 mile ride into a 7,629 mile ride. However, our planned schedule said that we should arrive in Homer on Day 10 so it appeared as though we had plenty of time for the USA South-West Challenge.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p69
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 30, 2015, 09:23:10 AM
Ray had waited alongside the road for over half an hour just to show his support. After a few minutes of chatting, we went down the road to Fanning Springs to get gas at the "Tackle Box" on U.S. 19 and chat a bit more. Ray understood Tim and I were on a mission and that we needed to go on, so we soon parted ways.
It is hard to explain to the average person why friends would to such extremes just to share a few minutes with another rider who is doing a big ride, it is also hard to explain how much it means to the rider that is doing the ride. We had spent no more than 10 minutes with Ray and we were so excited that he made the effort and couldn't believe he had waited alongside the road for a half an hour. Ray was going to get some lunch and head back home, likely feeling me same elation.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p77
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 31, 2015, 09:28:55 AM
You probably noticed that I have not said much about stopping to eat. This is primarily because we really didn't eat that much. If we ate breakfast, we would typically not eat lunch. If we didn't eat breakfast, we would sometimes eat lunch. If we stopped at night and there was anything open and we were not too tired to eat we might eat dinner. Both Tim and I lost about 20 pounds on this trip. Our staple was energy bars for me and jerky and trail mix for Tim.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p101
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 01, 2016, 11:53:07 AM
While we were eating, Tim got a call from a friend.
Friend: "Where are you at?" Tim: "I'm not sure. We stopped at a small town in Canada to get some lunch."
Friend: "It looks like you are in Lillooet."
Tim: "I think that is it."
Friend: "It looks like you are sitting on Main Street in front of Dim's restaurant."
Tim's friend had been following our satellite tracker and by looking at the map in Google Earth, knew our location better than we did.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p119-20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 02, 2016, 01:11:01 PM
However, this Haul road is different than any other road:
- The road crews use heavy amounts of water with calcium chloride which makes the road very slick and difficult to navigate.
- The road is constantly under construction.
- The road has many textures and surfaces: Pavement, hardpack, loose gravel, pea gravel, base rock, dirt, and occasionally sand.
When riding the Haul Road it is critical that you not over-ride what you can see. The surface can change from pavement to deep pea gravel at the top of a rise. It is also important that you watch for textural or colour changes and slow down until you figure out the road conditions. The people who crash on this road are usually the ones who get overzealous. The road is constantly changing, and one should not assume their return trip will be the same as the trip they just made up to Prudhoe Bay.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p137
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 03, 2016, 12:09:32 PM
The ride on the Top of the World Highway was definitely a experience that I will not soon forget and one that I hope to repeat. Ordinarily, when you cross mountains you travel through the valleys between the mountains and then have a steep ascent and descent over a high pass. On the Top of the World Highway, you wind along the top of the mountains, which provides amazing vistas of the mountains and the valleys below.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p161
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 04, 2016, 08:41:08 AM
Then he told me that he had crashed between the Mackenzie and Peel ferries. This section of the road had a narrow tire track and loose gravel. Harry was running street tires on his BMW GS Adventure and had gotten out of a track, causing his front wheel to wash out and resulting in a low side crash. He came off the bike, but was just a little banged up. His bike had slid all the way off the road and several feet down the bank, lodging itself upright in the willows lining the road. Fortunately for Harry, a passing truck and two other riders stopped to help.
One of the riders was Australian, while Harry is British. During the 18th and 19th centuries the British sent many convicts to Australian penal colonies. The connection between the British and Australians is undeniable, and is sometimes the source of some good-natured ethnic humour. The Aussie rider said, "I have to get a picture of an Aussie helping a Brit get his bike out of the ditch. Wait until I post this on Adventure Rider!"
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p184
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 05, 2016, 09:42:52 AM
After breakfast, we backtracked the 18 miles south along the paved road to the 64-mile-long Eastman access road. At the start, the access road was in good shape even though the gravel was 2-4" deep. The deep gravel was difficult but negotiable because it had a hard base. After about 10 miles, the access road turned to "crap" - the gravel was still deep but on a very soft sand base. This made riding extremely difficult, even when standing on the pegs. Tim and I fought these extreme conditions for about five miles and both of us had moments where we thought we were going to crash. We had no idea what the condition of the road was going to be for the remaining 50 miles to Eastman, but we knew that if it was like the last five miles, one or both of us were likely to be picking ourselves and our bikes up off the ground. We decided to return to KM381 and evaluate our options. Our morning adventure had resulted in a 69 mile detour.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p217-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 06, 2016, 09:08:26 AM
As we rode, we enjoyed beautiful vistas with the ocean on our right and green mountains to our left. But with the on-again-off-again rain, we were not enjoying the ride like we had hoped. Around lunch-time we spotted a small restaurant serving moose burgers. We were the only two guests and took our time studying the menu of unique items: moose steaks, capelin (a smelt-like fish), seal, and seal flipper pie. Tim was interested in the capelin and I was interested in the seal. I asked the lady about the seal and she said, "I don't eat it. My mom wouldn't cook it. It smells." Both Tim and I decided to go the safe route and ordered a moose burger, which was very good.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p234
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 07, 2016, 09:44:48 AM
The question we have been asked the most since completing the ride is, "Would you do the ride again?" My initial response is that it's hard to believe that I even did it at all! Had my core values not driven me, I'm sure it would have never happened. And even then, I don't think I really understood the magnitude of the ride until getting to Prudhoe Bay and realizing that we were less than 40% done.
The short answer is no. Harry Farthing, when telling us about the various mountains he had successfully peaked, commented that "Once it was done, it was done." I feel the same way about long-distance rides. I don't have a desire to repeat rides that I have already completed.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p267
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 08, 2016, 10:01:54 AM
I also confirmed that, at heart, I am a loner. I think this is why I've never had the successful family life that I desire. And why mild disagreements with Tim were blown out of proportion in my mind. It is odd how I can enjoy the company of others yet at the same time not fully appreciate it.
Joseph Juran in his autobiography, written at age 98, noted that he was not often liked by his peers. He realized, at that late age, that it was due to the circumstances of his youth and he could have corrected it by his actions, but chose not to do so. I'm only 60, and I acknowledge that I need to be much better appreciating others. But I have difficulty being consistent at it. I hope it is something I will learn before leaving this earth.
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p269
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 09, 2016, 09:34:07 AM
When Tim and I were standing by the ocean taking in the view of the elephant seals, we definitely felt small. When we looked at the mountains in the distance we proceeded with joy. When there was an opportunity to give up on our trip, we did not yield to the path of least resistance. Many feel that motorcycling is dangerous, particularly long distance riding, and would view that Tim and I were "takin chances," but they were worth taking.
When you look back on the years, don't wonder where the years have gone!
This was an amazing experience and one that I hope will be duplicated by many other riders in the future. If not the whole ride, then the components of the ride as we have developed them.
Ordinary people can do extraordinary things, if they only dream, believe, and strive to achieve!
Passion In The Wind   Alan Leduc  p271
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 10, 2016, 12:10:17 PM
Then a booming French voice startled us all. We turned around to find a tall, immaculately dressed elderly gentleman, complete with overcoat, hat and walking cane, who put his a round my shoulder in a protective manner and roared at the Tunisian men, waving his cane at them until they backed ray hissing and muttering. I was steered back to the ticket window by my saviour.
"Merci monsieur, merci beaucoup," I said gratefully.
"De rien! You travel by motorcycle?" he asked, pointing at my crash helmet.
I nodded.
"And where do you go after Tunisia?"
"I am riding to South Africa."
"Non! Mon Dieu! On a moto, all alone?"
The rest of the punters, who had witnessed my dramatic rescue, were listening to every word and gave a collective "Oooh!" As soon as I got my ticket, the old man swept me out from the crowd, twirled me round on the ticket office floor, grasped my shoulders and planted a continental kiss on each cheek.
"Bonne chance, ma cherie, bonne chance!" he bellowed, to the delight of the other customers, who began clapping and cheering. He gave me a giant bear hug, and with that, he was gone. I wished he was coming to Cape Town with me.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p19
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 11, 2016, 09:36:42 AM
It was every man, dog, and donkey for themselves as I threaded my way through the mayhem. On the outskirts of a large town the havoc went into overdrive when I was narrowly missed by a moped which overtaking a car which was overtaking a truck which itself had started the whole overtaking furore by trying to get round a horse and cart. A bus coming the other way was forced off the road on to the verge, but it was also being overtaken by a beat-up yellow taxi which refused to get out the way of the moped/car/truck/horse/cart formation. Just as I was steeling myself for an almighty pile-up, a man shouting into his mobile phone wandered into the path of the taxi. The blasting of horns and yelling was deafening, and I was expecting to witness a spectacular crash, or at the very least, a good punch-up, but somehow everyone survived unscathed and off they all went as if nothing had happened. I had seen some loony driving in my time, but this was the best yet. As I continued on my way through the numerous small towns and villages, this scene, or similar, was repeated approximately every five minutes. I realised this was the Tunisian Highway Code in action, and I'd better get used to it.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p31-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 12, 2016, 07:46:35 AM
I don't know what happened that day - maybe that sticker had some magic effect, or maybe it was a simple case of sink or swim. But I swum like I had never swum before. It was as if a switch had been flicked and suddenly it all came together; I was flying along across the sand, keeping up with John and loving every moment of it. But more importantly, I wasn't wilting in the desert heat, or even feeling in the least bit weary; if anything it was quite the opposite. Any nervousness had completely disappeared, to be replaced with utter exhilaration, and as we roared across the desert I relished every dune, every rock, every grain of sand! I knew I was experiencing a significant turning point, and for the first time since leaving home I felt nothing but pure excitement about the Saharan adventure that lay ahead. It dawned on me that I had spent the last few months chewed up and dragged down with fears about this trip, but now here I was, completely free of any anxiety. The sensation was almost like an artificial high, and I realised how easily desert riding could become a serious addiction. Even if it only lasted today, I knew I had experienced an epiphany.
"Wow!" said John, when we stopped at a track junction to wait for the truck. "You seem to have got into the swing of it!"
I was riding on air.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p44
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 13, 2016, 10:33:00 AM
Josianne and Angel were safely behind the glass of the Land Cruiser rear windows, and it occurred to me that the exposure of travelling by motorcycle is both its appeal and its downfall. Here I was, laid bare to everyone and everything, to the hawkers and the gawping men, the persistent children and the burning sun. There was no door to lock between us, no button to press that would roll up a window and remove me from their world. I was a sitting duck. But there was also the smell of the spices that drifted out from the market, the occasional gentle breeze that brought such relief from the heat, the sound of a hundred Arabic conversations competing with the warbling Rai music that pumped out of a little cafe. Despite the awkward situation that we currently found ourselves in, I wouldn't have swapped the saddle of my bike for the confines of a seat in the back of a car.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p69-70
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 14, 2016, 08:00:51 AM
"What snakes?" This was the first I'd heard of snakes; being on the bike meant I missed out on the group conversations that took place in the Land Cruiser.
"He said we shouldn't camp near rocks because snakes live under them, and now look where we are, nothing but bloody rocks everywhere!"
"I'm sure there won't be any snakes," I lied hopefully.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Josianne said. "Just ignore me, I'm being silly."
She stared at the ground, thoroughly dejected.
"Well, look, I've got an idea - there's an airport at Tamanrasset. We should be there in about a week or so. Maybe you could fly from there to Cameroon somehow, or to somewhere else, and we could meet you after we've crossed the desert?"
Josianne looked at me apologetically and shook her head.
"No, I can't do that."
"Why not? I'm sure Jacques would understand."
"No, it's not that," she hesitated, "it's just that, well, it sounds silly, but I'm scared of flying."
"As well as snakes?"
She nodded, and managed a small smile. I wanted to ask her seen Snakes on a Plane but I managed to resist.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p74
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 15, 2016, 06:28:52 AM
For me, this incredible ride across the heart of the desert was everything I had dreamed of back home as I had pored over my maps of Africa, marvelling at the sheer size and might of the Sahara. All my fears and anxiety about the heat had proved to be unfounded, and although it was indeed blisteringly hot, and the riding was physically gruelling at times, it was still a magical experience to be riding my motorcycle across sands to Tamanrasset, a place that had been in my dreams for so long that it had taken on almost mythical status. The last day's ride that took us into the town was the grandest finale a motorcyclist could hope for, through the foothills of the Hoggar Mountains and along the most exhilarating rocky trails I had ever ridden. The track had all but washed away, and
there was nothing else to do but hang on tight and go for it, flying and bouncing over huge rocks, in and out of steep-sided gullies, making accidental jumps and wincing as the rear suspension bottomed out again and again. But the bike never failed me, and even with the luggage, the heat and the brutal terrain, its 250ccs of power were plenty to keep me whizzing along at a fine pace. It was exactly what I had come here for.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p100-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 16, 2016, 10:34:27 AM
The residents of Assamaka waved us off and within a few minutes the village had disappeared from view and we were alone in the Saharan emptiness, blasting across a flat plain of brown sand, moving ever southwards. The morning was still cool and a layer of dew had settled overnight on the ground, creating a thin crust on the sand which made a firm surface for fast, effortless riding. The exhilaration of travelling at speed across this landscape without the menace of the midday sun or the perils of deep sand was just what I needed to conquer the demons that had resurfaced during the previous day's trials.
After a few hours our route took us through an area of giant orange dunes, which the bike climbed and crested effortlessly, reaffirming my love affair with desert riding. As far as motorcycling goes, this was as pure a thrill as I had ever known, and I put yesterday's traumas down to a blip. I was back in the game.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p122
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 17, 2016, 12:35:21 PM
"So, you, from Belgium, are in the car," he said slowly, as if trying to clarify a matter of great confusion. "And you" - he gave me a quizzical look - "are riding the motorcycle?"
"Er, yes. That's right," I replied.
"Maybe you are a man, yes?"
I wanted to laugh but it didn't seem like a good idea, so I assured him of my feminine attributes with poker-faced earnestness. He didn't look very convinced.
"And you come all the way here from England on your motorcycle?"
"Yes."
"'And where do you go?"
"I'm going to South Africa, to Cape Town."
He stared at me aghast.
"But why?' His voice bounced off the corrugated iron walls of the hut as it increased in volume. "Why do you do this, why do you ride a motorcycle all the way through Africa?"
"Um... for fun, for an adventure I suppose," I replied.
"Women do not do that in Africa!" he bellowed, although I wasn't sure if he was angry or merely baffled. "They stay at home and look after the house and the children. I wouldn't let my wife go off on a motorcycle in the name of, of..." - he spluttered out the word - "adventure!"
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p162
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 18, 2016, 09:36:29 AM
The same group of curious guys who had greeted us followed us outside to give us a rousing send-off. As I mounted the bike and fired up the engine, one of the men stepped forward and took my hands between his. Oh no, I thought immediately, he's going to ask me for money.
"I am full of inspiration when I see you on the motorcycle," he said, his face beaming. "It is good to have adventures, not just for you, but also to tell your grandchildren."
I smiled back gratefully, thoroughly touched and not a little guilt-stricken at having my suspicions shot down in such style.
"Well, if I ever have any I will tell them about you!" I said, and I rode away with a light heart and the image of his smiling face burned into my memory.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p174
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 19, 2016, 09:10:58 AM
Everybody struck up conversations with me, in the street, in cafes, in shops; they looked me in the eye and sometimes held my hand. Most of the time they weren't even trying to sell me something, it was just what they did. They were the same with each other, too: friends and strangers exchanged greetings, news or just gave a friendly slap on the back or a touch to the arm. It was impossible to do anything in Cameroon that didn't involve real human contact, and I wondered how and when this simple ingredient of our existence had ebbed away from our lives back home. Did it all come down to the fact that, unlike in England, there was no sense of immediate distrust, that people weren't scared of each other here?
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p187
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 20, 2016, 08:55:34 AM
The make-up woman worked away in silence, and although their wasn't a mirror in front of me to see what she was doing, I was beginning to get a little worried as she continued to pile on the slap. My face felt as if was covered with pancake batter, and that was before she'd applied several dollops of red blusher to my cheeks. My eyelashes were soon clogged into a sticky black lump and then, to my horror, she came at me with a palette of sparkly blue eye-shadow. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, a rummage through her box of lipsticks resulted in a shade of iridescent purple being applied to my reluctant lips. It reminded me of the horribly 80s 'Twilight Teaser' my friends and I used to wear when we were thirteen, in our (unsuccessful) attempts to catch the eyes of the bad boys who hung around at the local shopping centre.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p229-30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 21, 2016, 02:03:03 PM
Chris didn't strike me as a typical motorcycle adventurer, although I knew by now that there was really no such thing, despite BMW's best efforts to create a worldwide army of identically dressed middle-aged men striking out on their massive e machines. I had met all sorts of motorcyclists on my travels, and the motives that propel these ordinary folk out into the world on a motorbike are as diverse as the people themselves. Married couples having the final hurrah once the kids have left home; divorced, disillusioned men trying to create the youth they never had; likely lads chasing adventure and a a girl in every port; and the romantics, the aimless wanderers for whom life on the road means never having to commit to anything, trying to convince themselves that there's poetry and meaning to be found among the fleapit hostels and the Laughing Cow cheese.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p233
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 22, 2016, 11:07:12 AM
My spirits were cheered by this unsubstantiated piece of news, and when I asked about somewhere to sleep in N'Dende he offered me a hut at the back of the petrol station. There were a few of them dotted about in the back yard; they were nothing more than concrete cells but the doors were numbered so he obviously operated some sort of lodgings here. Either that or it was a Gabonese young offenders' institute. He opened the door of cell number 4 for me to have a look, and I recoiled as if I'd been smacked in the face with a warm sodden sponge. The hut had no window and had been cooking all day in the jungle heat; it was like walking into an industrial oven and within a matter of seconds the sweat was pouring off me. Inside, a 1997 calendar hung on a bare wall and as I stepped in a few cockroaches scuttled away into a corner. "I'll take it," I announced, and threw my helmet on to the soggy mattress that lay on the concrete floor.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p259-60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 23, 2016, 08:24:50 AM
My immediate response was to protest, but a split-second assessment of the situation forced me to accept the harsh truth. This man was my only hope. I was at his mercy and he could name his price.
"Combien?" I asked.
"Cinq mille francs," he said.
Five thousand francs? That was five quid. It seemed pretty steep and I made a few hollow, British attempts at haggling, but it as I did so, I remembered that I didn't actually have anything less than a 5,000-franc note anyway, and I guessed that, like a stroppy bus driver, he would demand the exact money only. And besides, I didn't have the nerve to ask for change.
"OK," I agreed. "Cinq mille." But he made it clear that he wouldn't so much as touch the bike until the 5,000-franc note is safely in his pocket. Grudgingly I handed over the cash, and he rolled up his trousers, removed his sandals and strode into the mud. I watched as he grabbed the bike's handlebars, heaved them towards him, and with a loud comedy squelch, the bike rose from the mire. He pushed it on to dryish land, wiped his hands on his trousers, and with that, he was
gone.
I estimated it had taken him about ten seconds to right the bike, and as I repacked my luggage and made a few fruitless efforts at wiping off the mud, I calculated that at this rate he was on a wage of £1,800 pounds an hour. Nice work if you can get it.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p267
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on January 23, 2016, 04:49:08 PM
 :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 24, 2016, 03:24:09 PM
The jerrycan was leaking from the filler cap, and every bump and sway of the wagon sloshed a bit of diesel out until I could feel it soaking through my trousers. I could have sat on the floor but I couldn't bring myself to move a muscle. My arrival had caused quite a commotion and some of the soldiers had tried to engage me in conversation, but I pretended I couldn't speak French and ignored their attempts at a parley. A few of them entertained their colleagues with comments about me that I genuinely didn't understand, but which prompted raucous laughter and backslapping among them, and paranoid terror in me. I felt sick with dread, and my gut-feeling was to stay perfectly still in the pathetic hope that the soldiers would forget I was there. This response was strangely at odds with my usual approach to sticky situations - I normally relied on smiling, flattery and being ultra-polite to get me out of trouble. But this was different; something innate in me warned against making any kind of connection with these men. I knew what drunken soldiers got up to in the Congo and the very thought made me shudder with raw fear. I'm not equipped for this, I thought, this wasn't meant to happen, I'm not cut out for this. I felt a terrible, hopeless dread and, like a hunted animal, my instinct was to remain motionless until the danger had passed. But that was going to be an awfully long time.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p286
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 25, 2016, 12:55:37 PM
I didn't know what else to do but sit there on the jerrycan and avoid all eye contact with the soldiers. I stared at my bike, tied up next to me, and concentrated on its smallest details, its scratches and scrapes, each one telling a story, reminding me happier times. Although I've never been one for bestowing names or human characteristics on my vehicles, at this moment just having my bike next to me gave me comfort. It was more than merely a means of transport; it had become my home over the last few months but most of all it represented fun and freedom, two things that were sorely absent from my current situation.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p289
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 26, 2016, 11:21:04 AM
"OK, let's go!" Jean-Paul was calling out of the passenger window. The car was a battered green Citroen, but the driver had ideas above his station and was dressed as an airline pilot, complete with uniform, cap and aviator shades. He was also wearing a headset which, as far as I could make out, was strictly for show, as when I followed the lead that dangled down over his shoulder I realised it was not connected to any device in the car. Maybe he was a pilot, moonlighting as a taxi driver, or was he just a cabbie with an ego problem? I had way of telling; I had only been here a few hours but I suspected that no explanation was too far-fetched for Kinshasa, this bizarre city that teetered permanently on the tightrope between absurdity and disaster.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p317
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Draco (Heartbreak Kid) on January 26, 2016, 09:05:40 PM
 :bl11 "May your roads always be clear, and NEVER rise up to meet you"  ;-* :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 27, 2016, 09:20:08 AM
As I was ploughing slowly through a stretch of flooded road, a minibus in front of me stopped without warning, forcing me to slam on the brakes. The driver jumped out and came round to open the rear doors and I could see that every seat in the bus was taken. Nonetheless, he was stopping to pick up more passengers, and the very second he opened the door a bunch of about forty men and women waiting by the side of the road charged inside, pushing each other out of the way, shouting and shoving and climbing on top of each other, elbowing their way inside. In less than a minute the minibus was at bursting point and I could no longer see any of the interior, just a mass of humans piled high: arms, legs, a pair of trainers, the occasional flash of teeth or the whites of someone's eyes. The driver went to shut the doors but there were still eight women from the crowd who had not managed to elbow their way inside the bus. Undeterred by the reality that was staring them in the face, they hitched up their ankle-length dresses and began clambering up the bodies of their travelling companions, using the random collection of limbs as a ladder. They squeezed their heads into tiny gaps, grabbed hold of feet and hands and balanced themselves on any spare square inch of human they could find. The driver, realising there was no way he was going to be able to close the doors now, returned to his seat and peeled out into the traffic, soaking me with a spray of muddy water in the process but leaving me with the fantastic view of eight brightly coloured, shapely bottoms sticking out of the rear doors, bouncing and wobbling as the minibus bumped away up the road.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p327-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 28, 2016, 08:29:37 AM
"Sim, Sim!" he said. Yes! Yes! He was pointing to one particular phrase. A inmdacdo repentina. He looked at me apologetically as if he himself was responsible for Angola's weather systems.  I looked at the book. It translated as 'a flash flood'.
But even this ominous exchange wasn't enough to dampen the excitement that always accompanies the entry into a new country. An invisible line in the ground is crossed and everything changes; another language to grapple and stutter with, strange names, new places and people, another currency to count and convert and confuse, banknotes bearing portraits oi national heroes you've never heard of; a whole new set of mores to absorb, to be befuddled by and to attempt understand. It was like being a kid again, gazing around and lapping up the novelty; my tongue was practically hanging out, panting for more. This is the stuff that drives me, I realised, and I was reassured that my zeal for the new and the unknown and the weird was still safely intact. There had been moments when I feared the Congo had knocked it out of me, when I'd lain awake at night in some grotty flophouse, dirty and doused in sweat, listening to the scrabble of cockroaches or to strange men's voices shouting in alien languages outside my door; and I'd promised myself a future of holiday cottages in Dorset, cream teas and sedate ambles around National Trust gardens, if I only made it home. But Dorset could wait, Angola couldn't.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p346-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 29, 2016, 08:45:45 AM
Predictably a crowd gathered around me as he filled up my bike, pouring litre after litre into the tank using an old water bottle. But there was no hostility among the onlookers, just lots of questions, some valiant attempts at English, less valiant at Portuguese from me, and lots of laughter.
"It is very good! I am very happy to see you!" said a middle-aged man who was carrying his small son on his back.
"Oh! Thank you," I replied a little nonplussed. Did I know this man?
He took my hands in his and gripped them tight.
"I never think I see tourist again in Angola. It is so good you are here! You make me think Angola has future. Thank you for coming here, thank you."
Crikey! I was so touched I had to choke back a tear. Of all the people I had met and the countless fleeting contacts I had made with strangers on my journey, I had never expected to incite a reaction quite like this, and I left N'zeto with a full tank of fuel and a warmer feeling than when I had arrived. I had been in Angola for less than a day, but I had the distinct sensation that there was something special here and I cursed the stupid Angolan consulate and its five-day transit visa for hurrying me through.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p357
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 30, 2016, 08:49:41 AM
"Do you think they'll let me in?" I asked David when we finally pulled up outside the hotel. It certainly wasn't posh, but they had every good reason to refuse me entry, considering the state I was in.
"Of course!" he assured me. The security guard did a double-take as we stepped through the door. We made an odd couple: David, a spruce young man about town, accompanied by Swamp Thing. The receptionist, however, was a consummate professional and he barely raised an eyebrow, treating me like a VIP. David arranged everything, even organised parking for my bike, and before leaving wrote down his address and phone number.
"Please call me if you need anything while you are here," he said with his lovely, patient smile. I could have hugged him, but I didn't want to spoil his natty duds with a muddy embrace. Instead I settled for a marginally cleaner handshake.
"Thank you so much! I really appreciate your help, thank you," I told him from the very depth of my heart. Another guardian angel had been sent to me and I knew how lucky I had been.
"De nada." he said with another gentle smile, and with that he was off. No hassle, no sleazy come-ons, no demands for money. Just the kindness of a stranger. I hoped that a little bit of David's magic had rubbed off on me, and that I could keep hold of it long after I returned home, and pass it on to someone else.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p363
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 31, 2016, 01:10:40 PM
Trying to avoid another flooded crater, I hugged the side of the track, sticking to a gulley, but my front wheel hit a submerged log, the bike jolted and before I could correct the steering it toppled over to the left, taking me with it and trapping my left foot between the crankcase and a rock. The pain sent shockwaves through my leg as I felt the bone-crunching impact of the rock and my ankle being wrenched and twisted as I struggled to free myself. Summoning up some adrenalin-fuelled superhuman strength, I pushed my body-weight against the bike, forcing it upright again. Swinging my right leg over the saddle, I restarted the bike and continued onwards through the mud and rain without a pause. I had reached some weird state of mindless, almost hypnotic doggedness, and I realised with shock that my customary, very vocal, response to such an incident had not been forthcoming. I hadn't howled, screamed or even whimpered in pain when my foot had been crushed; in fact, not a single word had passed my lips, not even a swearword. If I had given up complaining and swearing, things were really bad.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p375
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 01, 2016, 09:26:00 AM
Despite all this petty bureaucracy, the novelty of my reverse culture shock was enough to keep me cheerful, and for the next few days I revelled in Namibia's comforts. Life was ordered and efficient again, I didn't feel my stomach tightening at the sight of a policeman, and the roads were so smooth could have kissed the tarmac every morning. As my aching limbs slowly recovered, I swore to myself that I would never again stray from the blacktop on this journey. Namibia's towns were Germanic in style: neat, clean and organised, complete with street names and house numbers. There were supermarkets which sold everything my heart and stomach desired, and even banks that let you in to change money. But after the anarchic world of Central Africa I struggled with the sudden plethora of rules and regulations. I had crossed an international border and now there were parking restrictions, no-entry signs, fences and gates, and signs that shouted 'PRIVATE PROPERTY' and 'KEEP OUT'.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p394
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 02, 2016, 08:48:41 AM
For me, life was easy again. The sun shone every day and I flew along through this huge empty country unhindered. But after the full-throttle, high-octane, sheer intensity of riding through the Congo and Angola, I was overcome with a profound sense of anticlimax. There was no challenge, no excitement, no adventure for me here. In my quest to spice things up a bit I sought out the dirt roads and the desert tracks, forgetting all about my pledge to never leave the blacktop, but even this failed to ignite a spark in me; and with more time for thinking, rather than merely surviving, I pined sorely for Austin and home, and, most strangely of all, for Angola, or more accurately, for its spirit.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p395
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 03, 2016, 10:01:07 AM
Long overland journeys invariably end on some sticky-out bit and somewhere, often a far-flung outpost that has become a tourist destination merely due to its extreme location. As I approached Cape Town, I ignored signs for the city centre and skirted round to the east, heading for the southern coastal road that would take me to the tip. As the ocean came into view I recalled my arrival at the tip of South America almost three years ago to the day, remembering how I had gazed out at the cold sea, knowing that Antarctica was just a stone's throw away, and marvelling that I had ridden all the way from Alaska. Soon I would be standing on another sticky-out bit of land once again staring out to sea, with the entire African continent behind me. Although my journey through Africa had been just half the time and distance of my ride through the Americas, it had been ten times as tough, and I felt truly grateful to be here.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p403
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 04, 2016, 10:12:29 AM
I'm nearly there! I was squealing to myself, I've made it! I've ridden across Africa!
The bike gave a little splutter, but I didn't take much notice. It had been running fine for the last 10,000 thousand miles and I had the utmost faith in it. Then it spluttered again, as if it was running out of fuel, but it couldn't be- I had filled up only a few miles back. But like a painfully predictable scene in a bad sitcom, fifty yards from the Cape of Good Hope it gave one final splutter and ground to a halt.
I couldn't believe what was happening. Of all the places to conk out! I dismounted and started investigating, but there was nothing obviously amiss. There was plenty of petrol in the tank; I pulled off the fuel hose and it was coming through fine, pouring out all over the ground. I quickly shoved it back on before I created an environmental disaster. The electrics were fine, the battery was good, I had ignition, the engine was turning over, but nothing was happening. I fiddled with a few more things and had another go at starting it, but to no avail. Again, the engine turned over, coughed, spluttered and died. After repeating this pitiful process a few times, I resigned myself to the sad truth that I would be pushing my bike to the tip of Africa.
Red Tape And White Knuckles  Lois Pryce  p404
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 05, 2016, 12:23:04 PM
Trish has a unique claim to fame because, unlike most motorcyclists who collide with kangaroos, she had a kangaroo collide with her. No, that is not a fib from a drunken sod. Trish told me that she had gone on a ride with a group of people and stopped at a dam somewhere to admire the scenery. Suddenly a small kangaroo had bounded out of the bush and leaped onto her head, knocking her, the motorcycle and the kangaroo onto the ground. The kangaroo had got up, dusted itself off and disappeared back into the bush leaving a stunned Trish lying on the ground under her bike. She was helped up by the rest of the riders and rode away unscathed.
Motorcycling Adventures  Michael Sourjah  p12-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 06, 2016, 09:10:32 AM
We left Esperance ahead of lan and Yvonne who had decided to ride separately to Albany. It was another glorious day for riding and we rode along the South Coast Highway until we reached Albany, after covering 500 kilometres. We had done 4,500 kilometres by then.
Along the way, we stopped at Ravensthorpe (population of about 500 people) for fuel and had a snack on the verandah of the roadhouse. The pumps for Autogas for the backup car were located some distance away down an incline and I relaxed while having a sausage roll. Just before we departed, I saw a cattle road train leaving Ravensthorpe and thought to myself that we would be overtaking it soon. Shortly afterwards, we caught up with the road train and as I was overtaking I got splattered with cattle dung and urine. The front of the bike, my helmet and visor and parts of my clothes and boots were stained a brown colour and the smell wasn't pleasant (to put it mildly) and I had to ride for at least 150 kilometres before I could clean up at the next service station. Yuk!
The things we undergo to fulfil our dream of crossing the Nullarbor.
Motorcycling Adventures  Michael Sourjah  p41-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 07, 2016, 02:27:47 PM
Edward also stopped his bike at Corrigin as he desperately needed a drink of water. We noticed a statue of a dog and read that it was to commemorate the "Dog in a Ute" where some locals had set a world record for the most dogs (1,527) in utes in a queue. Apparently this event is held each year. The things you learn while on a motorbike trip.
We eventually reached Hyden and refuelled at the service station. I parked my bike in a corner, well away from the building but a bloody idiot reversed his vehicle without looking and nearly collided with my bike.
We checked-in at the Wave Rock Resort. The resort is really great and it is next to a salt lake named "Lake Magic." I dumped my stuff in our lovely cabin, jumped on the bike and went to Wave Rock. What an absolutely fantastic sight. I walked to Hippos Yawn which is a rock cave that looks like you are entering a yawning hippo's gaping mouth.
Motorcycling Adventures  Michael Sourjah  p58-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 08, 2016, 09:14:01 AM
I got my only real scare of an accident on this stretch of road, as I noticed an oncoming vehicle in my lane overtaking a road train. As I drew closer, the bloody idiot was still in my lane. I switched my lights onto high beam which also lit up my driving lights but the skunk still kept coming in my lane. I was just releasing the throttle and thinking of stopping in the gravel (bad option as it was sloping down into the scrub about 5 metres below the road) when the clown finally overtook the road train and swerved sharply into his lane. I blasted him with my air horn and gave him the "bird" when he passed. It was a pity he couldn't hear the juicy words being uttered inside my helmet.
Motorcycling Adventures  Michael Sourjah  p90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 09, 2016, 09:27:42 AM
At last the motorbikes were packed and the engines had been started and warmed up. This was the first time Tim had ridden a motorbike in Australia and he had never got onto his steed for this trip, a 21 year old BMW K75 RT. That was my biggest worry and he almost confirmed my fears when he got onto the bike, lifted it off the sidestand then promptly overbalanced and couldn't hold the motorbike upright. I was already seated on my bike watching the spectacle unfold in front of me as Tim's bike teetered on the point of falling down. I knew I would never have been able to jump off my bike and rush over to help him keep the bike upright. Thankfully, my son was standing nearby, smiling at Tim's flailing efforts to keep the bike from falling. A yell from me, however, got him into action and he helped Tim. Both Tim and the bike were safe but it was a very close call, even before we had moved a millimetre from my house. What a way to start a  5,500 kilometre trip!
Motorcycling Adventures  Michael Sourjah  p123
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 10, 2016, 09:08:14 AM
Wilcannia is a dead town with everything closed and barred. It has a population of about 600 people and proclaims that it is in the "middle of nowhere, centre of everywhere". We rode our bikes along some of the side streets looking at the lovely old buildings which had been built in the 1800's. There was nobody walking on the roads but I had been following a sign that said "BP petrol" because the service station on the highway sold an unknown brand of petrol. The signs led us to what looked like a backyard operation away from the highway and I wasn't going in there. We returned to the service station on the highway, pumped petrol and then used the washrooms. Unlike the last time I was there in 2010, there were only a few Aboriginal people hanging around. I walked to the beautiful old church next door to take some photos. There was a lone bike and biker in front of the church and we got talking. He too was heading to Alice Springs and we met up a couple of times along the way.
Motorcycling Adventures  Michael Sourjah  p137
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 11, 2016, 09:14:56 AM
The difficulty of stopping a motorcycle on the side of the Stuart Highway (and also across the Nullarbor) crossed my mind. In most places, there is only a little bit of bitumen from the line marking the left edge of the road to where the gravel or soil begins. The ground outside the bitumen was quite boggy because of the recent rains and wouldn't support the bike's side stand. Parking the bike in this area would almost certainly result in the side stand sinking into the ground and the bike toppling over. If that happened, it would be a real bugger to get the bike upright again. But parking the bike on the small verge of bitumen leaves it dangerously close to passing traffic, especially if two trucks are passing simultaneously.
Motorcycling Adventures  Michael Sourjah  p191-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 12, 2016, 09:35:05 AM
Since leaving Alice Springs we had met some road trains with four trailers. These were so long that we needed a clear road for at least one kilometre ahead to be able to safely overtake them. Fortunately there hadn't been a crosswind since leaving Alice Springs so we overtook these mammoth beasts without difficulty. Maybe the trees on either side of the road prevented any wind from affecting the bikes. Some of the road trains were travelling at more than 110 km/h but we were only being buffeted, sometimes very badly, when they were travelling in the opposite direction.
Motorcycling Adventures  Michael Sourjah  p200
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 14, 2016, 07:13:06 AM
Wally provided an interesting titbit of information when he said that the ides of the road in the Northern Territory are cleared of vegetation five metres on each side so that motorists and particularly motorcyclists have an opportunity to spot wildlife and maybe avoid a collision. A further advantage is that motorists and riders won't collide with trees and other vegetation that can cause serious injuries or even death. I think that's a great idea and wonder why the other Australian States can't follow that example. Oh! I am sure that enough excuses and reasons will be provided by politicians and government agencies but this is a serious issue that all motorists (not just motorcyclists) need to question.
Motorcycling Adventures  Michael Sourjah  p217
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 15, 2016, 08:25:16 AM
Three days prior to this discovery, the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge had departed Key West and was on a hard ride to Homer, Alaska. The initial description outlined a number of requirements, making it a bit more difficult. Riders had to sleep next to their bikes; no motels allowed. (For the 2013 ride, that "no motel" rule was relaxed a bit; it went from "no motel" to "motels are frowned upon you sissy." For the 2014 ride, the earlier rule was reinstated as a hard-and-fast rule, as it should have been.) You could not speed (speed being a relative term), and you had to stay on a very specific, predetermined route. If you got off route, you had to return to the point where you took that wrong turn before proceeding. No global positioning systems and no outside support. The more I read about it, the more I liked it.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p10-11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 16, 2016, 07:23:58 AM
I had yet to fully convince my wife this was something that needed to be done, but I was wearing own. It was just a matter of time before she threw her hands up in surrender and let me participate. Now, all guys know its not as though we need the permission of our better halves for anything, we have the right to do what we want, when we want, and how often we want. But guys also know it's prudent to give their better halves the illusion that they seek their permission. If you're reading these last couple of sentences, if they got past the editors, it means "I permitted" my wife to lay claim to the illusion she had allowed it. Okay, I think I might be digging a hole here. I think it's best to stop digging.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p13-14
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 17, 2016, 10:18:10 AM
By late Friday afternoon, I was bored to death but at the same time anxious to get underway. I'd completed my registration, and my bike had passed inspection. I'd packed and repacked the bike six times, checked the lights eight times, checked tire pressure twelve times (actually six times, but there are two tires on a bike), and played with the camera angles more times than I could count. I sent a text message to my brother Dan mentioning I was bored to death, and his response enlightened me to the fact of just how muddled my brain was. His reply to my text was short and simple: "Go for a ride." Whereas I'm pretty sure I was properly using my brain, it became obvious to me some of my synapses had shut down because that option had not occurred to me as an alternative to boredom.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p38-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Phntm0 on February 17, 2016, 11:54:50 AM
Not sure if this counts...
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 18, 2016, 05:28:33 PM
Anyway, I was on the right side of the [USA] lane monitoring the activity around me, paying particular attention to the riders close by. I'd never been in a group in which a rider behind weaved in and out between the staggered formation in an effort to achieve a lead position. Until that day. Out of nowhere a rider came up behind me, weaved around my left, and cut in front of me to weave past the right side of the rider in front of me. He weaved a bit too soon, and had I not moved in the only direction available to me, we would have made contact. That's a long winded way of saying, "He cut me off and ran me off the road." In an instant I was bouncing across those rough stones thinking, I can't believe this! Twenty minutes into the ride and I'm gonna crash. My wife is gonna be soooo mad at me! I recall wondering what my corpse would look like.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 19, 2016, 01:01:55 PM
The lesson I learned here was if you are in Canada and see a gas station, you better stop and get gas even if you don't need to. My bike has a 6.2 gallon tank, and I was getting an average of forty miles per gallon. I'll let you do the math. The scenery was great, the road was great, the weather was great ... all in all life was good. Even the moose that watched me ride by from the of the road looked like he was having a good time. I was livin' the dream, that is, until I got down to about a quarter-tank of gas and started looking for a gas station.
Since my last wrong turn, I hadn't seen two pieces of wood nailed together let alone a gas station. I'll shorten this story for you. The needle was rapidly approaching the E on my gas gauge and no station in sight. I just knew I was going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere waiting on a Good Samaritan, a serial killer or a deranged moose.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p62
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 20, 2016, 02:54:11 PM
We gassed up and headed down US-71S; I for one was happy to be back on familiar turf. About an hour down the road, we stopped on the side or the road to take a break. I'm glad we did, as one of the riders I was with was all over the road, and I mean that literally. We call that "road drunk" — you're so tired that not being able to keep the bike straight is a foregone conclusion. It was obvious he was riding and sleeping at the same time. The rider and I were flashing our lights, honking our horns, trying to get his attention to pull over. We didn't dare pull up beside him because his path was so erratic that the chances of his steering into us approached absolute certainty. We eventually got him to pull over.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p67
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 25, 2016, 12:58:57 PM
I came to an intersection where I could go right or left. I needed to go right. I was thinking it was somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. There was not a
light in sight. Normally, when I come to a stop sign, I make a full stop (not always, but most of the time), but at that point, my hips and backside were so
sore I wasn't so sure I could safely stop and keep the bike upright. So not seeing any hint of vehicle headlights anywhere, I slowed to almost a stop and
rolled through.
What kind of police officer sits in the middle of nowhere waiting on a Hoka Hey rider to come through and run a stop sign? Apparently, there is at least one
deputy sheriff in Minnesota. The whole area lit up like the Fourth of July; red and blue lights and a big spotlight saturated my meager existence. I felt it
wise to pull over. He may have just been bored on night watch and needed something to do. He didn't write me a ticket or even a warning; we just sat and
talked for about twenty minutes. That, with the application of hindsight, was probably exactly what I needed to get the fuzziness out of my head. I believe
his concern was genuine. He told me the wildlife on that road had been exceptionally active that night and that pulling over for the night might be in my best
interest. I told him I had seen some wildlife, but I decided to not elaborate. I was pretty sure lions, tigers, and flying dinosaurs did not, nor have they ever, resided in the trees in northern Minnesota.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p74-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 26, 2016, 11:54:36 AM
I said it before and I'll say it again: as a Hoka Hey rider, I know it's bad form to sleep in a motel, but I had convinced myself I deserved a nice, soft bed in a room I didn't have to share with pesky bloodsuckers. I rolled into a motel and got a room. When I got the key, I asked for an 11:00 p.m. wake-up call. I had grown weary of hot days, so I thought riding through South Dakota at night would be my best option. I took a shower and crawled into bed. I believe I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. I woke up after a bit. The sun was still up. A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand told me it was almost 6:00 p.m. I was irritated at myself that even though I had ridden solid for thirty-three-plus hours, I could sleep for only a couple of hours. I looked at my watch and saw it was almost 6:00 the next day. I had slept for almost fourteen hours.
I was very angry with the motel staff because they had failed to give me a wake-up call as I had asked. I packed my bag and went to the counter, ready to grab someone by the upper and discuss their transgression. Turns out they had given me a wake-up call; I just hadn't heard it.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p77
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 27, 2016, 02:22:07 PM
I continued through Nebraska and Colorado. As the sun went down on day six of my adventure, I was in the open expanse of the plains. While riding the plains in the middle or the I  night, I decided to stop for a bit. I was tired and needed to stretch, walk around a little, and get the blood flowing in my legs again.
As far as the eye could see, there were no lights, no traffic nothing but me and my ride. I shut the engine off and removed my helmet. The lack of sound is hard to describe. The only thing I heard was a slight breeze. You can sit in a quiet room, but it's not the same. In a room, there are still the sounds of the furnace or air conditioner, the buzz of the refrigerator, or the ticking of a wall clock. Out there, the only real sound is your thoughts. As hard as you try, you can never escape your thoughts.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p88
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 28, 2016, 12:55:03 PM
After I passed through Cloudcroft, NM the rain and cold turned to hail and cold. The rain and cold was tolerable, but if you add hail to the mix, you rethink the level of discomfort associated with rain and cold.
The sting that accompanied the hail was still tolerable but I will admit it was very close to the limits I was willing to deal with. It was not something I would have selected as a way to spend part of my day. The two-lane road leading through the mountain was narrow and offered very few places to pull over for shelter. All I could do was hunker down behind the windshield and ride through it. On those few occasions when I did see places to pull over, it was always too late, as I didn't catch sight of them until I rode by, and there was no option available to turn around. As one might say, I was stuck like Chuck. I'm not sure who Chuck is, but apparently at one time in his life, he found himself in a difficult situation.
I was rolling along about twenty miles per hour, which means my exposed hands and legs were running into hailstones the size of marbles at twenty-five miles per hour. Try it sometime, You won't like it. I'm sure the guy in the truck behind me was entertained.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p90-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Draco (Heartbreak Kid) on February 28, 2016, 01:09:41 PM
After I passed through Cloudcroft, NM the rain and cold turned to hail and cold. The rain and cold was tolerable, but if you add hail to the mix, you rethink the level of discomfort associated with rain and cold.
The sting that accompanied the hail was still tolerable but I will admit it was very close to the limits I was willing to deal with. It was not something I would have selected as a way to spend part of my day. The two-lane road leading through the mountain was narrow and offered very few places to pull over for shelter. All I could do was hunker down behind the windshield and ride through it. On those few occasions when I did see places to pull over, it was always too late, as I didn't catch sight of them until I rode by, and there was no option available to turn around. As one might say, I was stuck like Chuck. I'm not sure who Chuck is, but apparently at one time in his life, he found himself in a difficult situation.
I was rolling along about twenty miles per hour, which means my exposed hands and legs were running into hailstones the size of marbles at twenty-five miles per hour. Try it sometime, You won't like it. I'm sure the guy in the truck behind me was entertained.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p90-1


 :blu13 Thanks for the very interesting stories here Mr Biggles, enjoying the read  :popcorn :thumb :blu13left
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 29, 2016, 01:29:22 PM
I was about to step off the bike when an elderly couple walked I out of the restaurant. We made eye contact, and after a brief discussion between them (words I didn't hear), they turned and walked back into the restaurant. I can't say I blamed them; I'm sure my appearance was reminiscent of a bag of dead rat hair that had been dipped in festering swamp water. I looked in the mirror to verify what I felt to be the case and was rewarded with the sight I had expected. Yeah, I couldn't blame them at all. I just smiled to myself and wondered it they were, at that very minute, dialing 911.
I sat for a minute looking at the many hailstones covering the ground, and wondered if I should venture into the restaurant for a cup of coffee and risk being arrested. About that time, the couple walked out of the restaurant and handed me a cup of coffee. They said it had been apparent to them I was in serious need of some. The coffee warmed my body, and the conversation with them, coupled with their kind act, warmed my heart. After a bit, they wished me safe passage. I went on my way knowing I'd never see these selfless people again but would never forget them.
Solitary Without The Confinement  Steve Briscoe  p91-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 01, 2016, 01:55:57 PM
"Guide" would be too grand a description for Mohammed's services, but he is available to aid the stranger in town, interpret and answer questions.  He has an impressive habit of hacking up great gobs of phlegm to punctuate his conversation.  Much as I might "erm" and "umm" my way through a dialogue, he uses throat clearings to emphasise the importance of a particular point, to critique the ways of the world, to clear his airways and just to amuse himself.
We skip up a narrow staircase to an empty rooftop tea-room.
"There are forty thousand peoples in this village; it is very old but lots of poor here and around," hack, "but we live in beautiful place.  Look around."
Spit.  "Many Berber people come and sell food in the medina but I," says Mohammed, stressing the distinction, "I am Arab."  Big garggly hack.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bill Held on March 02, 2016, 11:47:16 AM
There are those that ride motorcycles and those that wish they did.
 :blu13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 02, 2016, 07:33:04 PM
I spend much of the next day at the  Mauritanian embassy applying for a visa.  Still finding it difficult to judge the width of the panniers on the bike, I leave a deep scratch and a dent in the side of the ambassador's Mercedes, which is parked outside.  The incident is spotted by some sharp-eyed villains lounging on the bonnets of three parked Mercedes waiting for their own visas.  They say the won't tell anyone as their own Italian-plated cars are in transit to Mauritania.  I am a little uneasy that they treat me as one of their own.
With the visa stamped in my passport, I make Casablanca in an hour- and spend another hour fighting my way through the city's traffic to my next Tea Encounter.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 03, 2016, 06:46:05 PM
Marrakesh is much further than I anticipated, and with dusk approaching the petrol gauge seems to be dropping like a stone.  After a worrying half hour, I
finally reach a village.
No fuel.
"Prochain village?"
"Vingt-huit kilometres."
Oh shit. Twenty-eight kilometres to the next village and no guarantee there is anmy fuel there either.  I open the fuel cap and give the tank a shake.  I can
hear a feeble slosh of petrol and decide to take a chance.  I ride on at around 50 kph now to conserve the precious fuel as darkness falls with just the feint
silhouette of the mountains for company.  I reach the village and allow myself a small inward whoop of joy when I see the gaudy, battered sign of a gas
station.  There is no 'sans plombe' but this is no time for having a crisis of conscience about CO2 emissions, and I fill up with lead-rich Super.  In fact,
it is many thousands of kilometres before I use unleaded petrol again, and in any case, the bike runs better on the more polluting fuel.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p27
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 05, 2016, 09:36:45 PM
For weeks before the send-off I would show up at the dealership and pump Philip for some much-needed spare parts and supplies, or ask him to show me how to change a tyre or adjust the chain tension.  In return I said I'd arrange some puff for him through local media interviews, for which I was to wear his branded T-shirt for photo shoots.
I asked him if he thought the bike, now fitted with an impressive collection of mostly free off-road extras - making it even heavier - would successfully complete the trip. 
Without a moment's thought, he said, "It'll be reet."  (That's Lancashire for 'don't worry about it').
He then braced himself for yet another request for bike extras, but instead I asked, "Do you have any advice, Philip?"
He asked, "Are you going to Nigeria?"
"Yes."
"Well, if you get kidnapped by some crazy militant group and they force you to make one of those hostage videos... just make sure you're wearing my bloody T-shirt!"
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p34-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 06, 2016, 08:36:11 AM
Bwedra, for it is he, greets me warmly and, seeing that I am struggling to find my way, trots off ahead with the dog.  I follow, but soon lose the front wheel and fall.  Seeing me hit the ground brings Bwedra running back to help me right the bike and then wait for me to catch my breath before continuing on.
I try to keep up with him jogging across the dunes (I can't believe he is jogging anywhere in this searing heat), I drop the bike, he runs back, we pick it up, I pause to catch my breath, and so it goes on. The sand is now so deep and fine that it is difficult to get the bike moving at all, and when I do, I drop it again.  This routine happens six times in quick succession, each time with longer rests in between.  I am soaking, I'm gasping to draw a decent breath, and I;m so far out of my depth it's comical.  I use a million excuses to Bewdra to cover my embarrassment but he speaks no English, which is probably just as well.  He keeps encouraging my futile efforts while indicating the encampment is not far away now, his expression never changing from cheerful optimism when he should be laughing at me.  This carries on for forty tortuous minutes while I murder the clutch.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p47-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 07, 2016, 03:23:43 PM
I cross a couple of dry riverbeds and ride over some rocky outcrops where I lose the track completely. I ask for directions in a small village, but I can barely
believe the track I've been sent down: an overlapping succession of large boulders emerge out of the ground down a steep decline over which I must wrestle the bike. If I stop or hesitate the bike will certainly go over, and this is not forgiving soft sand; if I drop it here the fall will do some serious damage to it and to me. I fortify myself with advice from an earlier Tea Encounter in Burnley with Dave Edmundson ('Whatever happens, keep going') and get back up on the pegs. The decline in first gear soon segues into an equally steep incline. It's impossible to sit down, even for a second, as the seat bounces around
underneath me like a rubber ball.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p104-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Cerebral Knievel on March 07, 2016, 07:36:26 PM
Are you on the road to perth yet Biggles  :popcorn
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on March 07, 2016, 07:58:09 PM
On the way tomorrow
I think
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 11, 2016, 05:42:05 AM
He calmly explains, in little more than a whisper, that there is no way I am going to reach my destination today, but so what. I should take it easy and slowly ride to the next town: "Manger, du the, reposer... apres, Bafoulabe." But Bafoulabe is only another centimetre or so further on the map, and he can see my disappointment.
I am beginning to feel this man's sense of peace, the kind often found in the familiar act of brewing tea, as formal as any religious ceremony. I take the glass offered to me and drink; the tea tastes as sweet as sin, like the first and last pot of tea ever brewed. The moment thickens into something unexpected. Is this the cup I have been searching for? Is this the end of the quest? As a feeling of serenity gradually bubbles up from inside, he looks deeply into my eyes and repeats, "Manger, du the, reposer.'
Even though I am out of my depth, I am meant to be here. It is as if he has been waiting for me, for the last six weeks on the road, for the last forty-odd years, sitting here waiting to give me the advice I need: "Eat, drink tea, rest." As Tea Encounters go, it would have to go in the 'poignant' file.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p107-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 12, 2016, 12:13:27 AM
Next day the stay becomes memorable when someone tries to sell me a rifle. It isn't a surreptitious rendezvous under a bridge or in a deserted car park but in broad daylight while I am waiting for the lights to change.
I make the mistake of using sarcasm. "If you can find any room on this bike for a rifle, I'll have it," I say.
At which invitation the man begins unfastening the bungee straps to wriggle the rifle onto the back of the bike.
'NON, NON, NON!' I yell, and manage to ride off, leaving the arms dealer in the road holding aloft two rifles, looking like Jesse James.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p147
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 12, 2016, 09:02:56 AM
My new tactic approaching roadblocks - sometimes nothing more than a piece of rope stretched across the road - seems to work: I wave, signal as though I have something urgent to attend to on the other side of the barrier, thumbs up, then nod convincingly. This usually results in some bewilderment from the guards, crime control units, bandits or whoever they are; they relax their weapons and uncertainly wave me through, especially when I time it so they are interrogating a car driver ahead of me. For the ones that look more menacing, I slow down to put them a bit more at ease, wave, yell 'THANK YOU!' and then give it some gas. It seems to work well enough until on one occasion a mischievous thug pulls up the rope at the last second nearly garrotting me in the process.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p173
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 13, 2016, 08:48:00 AM
One particularly nasty-looking group of glassy-eyed teenagers swishing machetes who have set up a slalom of roadblocks around some deep potholes look as if they mean business. But there is no way I am stopping for them. I slow down and indicate as if preparing to stop, then manage to slip past all four individuals shouting menaces at me as I weave perilously around the huge holes in the road. Three scream vicious threats and tear after me while another scrapes the tarmac menacingly with his machete, but I'm off.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p173
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 14, 2016, 08:47:28 PM
"Quick, Mister Alan, the rain is up. Continue!" calls Tabot. With no more warning the rain pelts down as if someone is emptying a bath of warm water over us. The ground quickly turns to a greasy sludge - even the solid bits - and the bike slides out of control off the edge of the road. We pick but I have to keep it down to a cheek-rippling 10 kph in first gear to prevent coming to grief again.
I paddle with both feet as I protest through the roar the downpour, "Tabot, we can't go on like this! If I went any slower I'd be in reverse. This is ridiculous!" He has an answer for everything. "But we are moving, are we r not? Keep going!" he says, echoing the Lancastrian Tea Encounter advice of Dave Edmundson and Paul Burke. At this moment, I hate them all.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p209
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 15, 2016, 02:03:37 PM
The hills also make it difficult for the taxis to get about, especially going uphill, as no taxi driver will ever shift out of top gear, no matter how torturously slow the going gets. He will be hunched over the steering wheel trying to kick the accelerator pedal through the floor with a look of mild despair on his face while the bronchitic car strains and creaks and rattles and shudders and the engine threatens to cut out before it reaches the summit. I want to shout, "FOR GOD'S SAKE, MAN, CHANGE GEAR!" but I remain silent, shudder and rattle along with the loose interior and pretend it's perfectly normal to be going nine kilometres per hour in the outside lane. The drivers' body language changes dramatically on the downhill sections when they slip their cars into neutral and freewheel as far as the traffic allows. Then they're all smiles and slip off their baseball caps to wipe the sweat from their faces in preparation for the next minor Kilimanjaro.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p224
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 16, 2016, 03:42:31 PM
The next day the mechanic and I take around six hours to correct the tricky problem with the overflow tank using makeshift items from the town dump. Then I somehow succeed in using two thin strips of electrical wire to jump-start the bike from the battery on the hospital ambulance. By the time the bike fires into life there is a mixed crowd of the sick, the lame and the plainly curious all cheering me on.
I take the bike around the hospital car park a couple of times in the rain, which is a strange sensation for which I am unprepared. The sheer speed of the bike relights a sense of freedom and purpose, and it is exhilarating. I knew I was missing the bike, but I had not allowed for how much I physically craved the act of riding, how my muscles had missed certain repeated functions. Now that they are required to be of use again all the comforting, familiar routines start to re-engage. When the crowd sees me smile, I get a round of applause.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p272-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 17, 2016, 02:29:55 PM
The road gets wetter and the puddles deeper with every immersion, and I'm now permanently wet from the knees down. As it reaches the hottest part of the day, I ease the into a thirty-metre stretch of standing water. Halfway in the bike hits a rock under the surface that stops it dead in the water. I put my foot down to steady it but my boot sinks into the soft mud; the bike is going, Oh NO!... beyond the point of no return, it's gone. I manage to get my leg out from under the falling machine but lose my footing and splash backwards up to my neck. After thrashing about like a baby having his first bath I manage to stand up when all I can do is stare at the bike - submerged except for most of the right pannier and the exhaust - slowly sinking with a taunting gurgle as the pannier fills up with water.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p283-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 19, 2016, 10:49:37 AM
Necessarily, in the act of retelling the African Brew Ha-Ha in book form, I have had to leave out much of the random nature of the trip, which in many ways is what made the journey so unforgettable: a glance, a smile, a helpful lift of the bike, a delighted child, a curious immigration officer, a generous maman by the roadside, a big-hearted sweaty hug, a talented mechanic and all the time the ingenuous smiles in the villages and towns and along the roadside. How do they do it? Three months before I left, the advice from one of my Tea Encounters was to bring a smile with me; well, that wasn't too difficult on this astonishing continent.
In this and in many other ways, Africa has never failed to surprise (more than the word, as Tabot would say). I may not have been able to rely on systems, institutions, timetables, road signs, the law, embassies, petrol stations, brand names, medication, plumbing, electricity supplies or opening times... but I could rely on the people. And I'm fully aware of that paradox. Essentially, I have learned to expect the best out of people - someone who has fallen over and needed rescuing as many times as I have can reach no other conclusion.
African Brew Ha-Ha  Alan Whelan  p348-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 21, 2016, 02:44:34 PM
What more could a girl want?  For some strange reason she wanted to pray about it.  I can't understand why... a few weeks later though she said yes and we made plans for our wedding and a long honeymoon riding to Cairns in northern Queensland.  The wedding went well, although I got so nervous I forgot my vows.  Other than that everything was coming together and we headed off from Arcadia in north western Sydney for our first night on the Central Coast.  Just around Gosford on the Old Pacific Highway my 1979 Triumph started to misbehave.  Large amounts of oil kept coming out of the engine breather and so we were forced to spend several hours of our first night trying to repair a 750 Bonneville motor.  Who says I'm not romantic?
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p1-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 22, 2016, 11:09:22 AM
Seeing them coming I headed off down to meet them.  It is standard practice for me to do this as   my club role as Sgt-At-Arms is to try to head off any potential trouble.  Because we had seen and experienced times of unjustified Police harassment I also wanted to make sure this was going to be a friendly visit.  Thankfully it was, although not in a desirable fashion.  One of the local "boys in blue" wanted to date one of my daughters, so he and his mate had dropped by to say hello, all in front of my motorcycle and church mates.  I recognised him and shook their hands.  Patiently my motorcycling friends watched.  Their apprehension was clearly visible.  Was I going to be arrested?  Finally my daughter Jemma appeared and took over this friendly conversation.  Sheepishly I went back to my motorcycling friends.  In their faces I could see the unanswered question.
"What's going on?"
I told them of a daughter whom Policepersons wished to date (this was the second one) with the expectation I would cop a stir of gigantic proportions.  I was right.  What I got from one biker was both to the point and a reflection of the antipathy towards the Police by many who ride.
"You haven't brought up your kids very well!"
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p16
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on March 22, 2016, 11:14:03 AM
 :rofl
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 23, 2016, 09:16:42 AM
Treating with respect and friendliness those who are different is not an attribute of many in this country.  There seems to be a prevailing view that if you are different then you must be less.  In 2006 a rider on a new model Triumph motorcycle and wearing a helmet arrived at the entrance of the Ministerial car park at Parliament House in Canberra.  He was there to start a new job in that section of our national political edifice but was refused entry.  Even after he explained he was the country's new Minister for Defence, Dr Brendan Nelson was met with incredulity.  After all, no government mister would look like a "biker" and ride to work.  Surely he'd come in a Commonwealth car, wouldn't he?  Well, no.  He rode his bike to work like many other long term motorcyclists in Australia, but he ran into fully fledged "bikism", that is, discrimination based on the appearance of being a biker.  Not uncommon, I reckon.
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p51
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 24, 2016, 09:49:21 AM
Generally speaking being judged by your appearance is not something you want to have happen to you. It happens to all sorts of motorcycle riders. I once heard an ABC radio personality refer on-air the Ulysses Club as a 'gang'. Nothing could be further from the truth as they are simply a bunch of older Australians who have discovered motorcycle fun, many of them having returned to motorcycling after the kids are gone and the mortgage is paid off. I have been told by someone who should know that even Police motorcyclists have to deal with this type negative stereotyping. I recently spoke to a retired officer active in his knowledge of these types of motorcycle groups. Apparently there are two of these, the Blue Liners who are a touring motorcycle club and the Blue Knights who wear a back patch. Now having an outlet for their typical Aussie behaviour with other serving officers clearly meets an important need for them but interestingly, the Blue Knights are regarded with concern because they wear 'colours'. I have it on good authority that in America, where they originated, the Blue Knights are regarded by some enforcement authorities as a 1% group, even though their members are part of the 'Thin Blue Line'.
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p56
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 25, 2016, 10:02:52 AM
They did this at a tri-partisan level, which is quite rare I believe, joining together at the entry to the Federal House of Representatives on Thursday December 4 for an historic press conference where they came out of the closet... that is to say garage, and publicly called for the positive side of motorcycling to be recognised and encouraged amongst governments of all persuasions. Who were they and what do they ride? In the Labor Government Chris Hayes the Member for Werriwa and Government Whip rides a Honda Firestorm. He replaced controversial MP Mark Latham who vacated this seat. Chris Trevor the Member for Flynn (Qld) rides a Harley-Davidson Fat Boy around his geographically large electorate. Steve Gibbons the Member for Bendigo (Vic) restores British bikes and has a much more realistic view of the biker scene. He realises that the stereotypes don't apply to most riders. Then there is Senator Kate Lundy. The Senator rides off road in the ACT and is a great advocate for motorcycling in her territory.
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p59
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Old Steve on March 25, 2016, 02:21:24 PM
One of the candidates in the upcoming election for Mayor of Auckland rides a Bonneville.  Guess who's getting my vote.

I was at a fair the other weekend, wearing a Norton Tee-shirt, and he came over and said he wished he'd never sold his Norton.  Never mentioned a word about the election, just wanted to talk motorbikes.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bill Held on March 25, 2016, 02:25:54 PM
Old Steve, A lover of motorcycles is no proof that he would be a good politician but it woyld be a good place to start.
GOF54

Sent from my SM-G900I using Tapatalk

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 26, 2016, 09:20:56 AM
In the Opposition parties the Liberal's Dr Brendan Neison, the now retired Member for Bradfield, a former Government Minister and Opposition Leader and rides a Triumph Speedmaster. In 2006 he rode to the National Motorcycle Awareness Ride in Canberra and often attended the Silverwater Street and Custom Motorcycle Show in Sydney. Alby Schultz the Member for Hume (NSW) rides a Goldwing to support his son who suffers from depression. Also blind in one eye Alby claims this has surprisingly made him look to the left (a joke for the media at the media conference - he really is conservative). David Hawker, the Member for Wannon (Vic) is a former Speaker of House of Representatives and rides farm bikes. He has a long history of championing motorcycle causes in Parliament including the overturning of compulsory motorcycle daytime light-on laws, support for the 2006 Bikers Australia National Motorcycle Awareness Ride and was responsible for helping track down many of the riders and supporters in Parliament for Shaun and I, including Senator Cory Bernardi (SA) who rides a Hyosung Cruiser and has a ball riding through the windy Adelaide Hills. They were joined by the Nationals Luke Hartsuyker, the Member for Cowper (NSW) who rides a Ducati and will often ride to rounds of the Australian Superbikes and any other race meeting he can get to. Lastly John Forrest, the Member for Mallee (Vic) who rides a Softail Heritage Harley-Davidson.
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p59-60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 27, 2016, 12:22:39 PM
Coffs was a challenging ride, mainly because of the heavy rain that I encountered. This meant visibility was limited and the roads dangerous. At one point the Pacific Highway was closed because of a fatal car accident. All the traffic was sent inland on the closest available back roads. Rather than an inconvenience this was a brilliant diversion. Most riders would feel the same. Its a great adventure to go down roads untravelled and I had a ball. When I told ABC radio of this great adventure on my way to Coffs they were inspired to ask local bikers to call in and nominate the best motorcycle roads in the region.
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p65-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 28, 2016, 09:15:04 AM
The next morning we rode into the heart of Melbourne for the book signing. Elizabeth Street is the central road leading down to Flinders Street Station from the north. If you travel down this famous stretch of road then you will notice an amazing spread of motorcycle shops on both sides. About half way down is the central Peter Stevens store incorporating Harley Heaven. Now Melbourne is famous for many things, the least of which is the television series 'Underbelly'. It is also famous around Australia as the city that allows footpath motorcycle parking. While this is a great advantage when you're going shopping on your bike, it makes for a tight fit for an outside book signing.
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p67
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 29, 2016, 09:39:11 AM
So with the help of Fraser Motorcycles and others with similar vision I started filming a pilot that I hope to offer to 'free to air' and cable' television in late 2009. The pilot includes a story on the Pacific Highway to Gosford, affectionately known to motorcycle riders as the 'Old Road' and where I talked to riders as they travelled this famous Australian motorcycle attraction about the fun and adventure they have found on two wheels. It also reveals their opinions on the controversial '60 kph' speed limit recently imposed on their fabulous road. Another story will allow viewers to witness the closing of the 'Road Warrior Cafe' at Mt. White and the 'Farewell Ride' from the Old Berowra Tollgates where over 1,000 riders gathered in December 2008 to bid goodbye to motorcycling institution and to Max its mercurial proprietor.
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p74
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 30, 2016, 09:00:52 AM
The Darrell Eastlake inspired Celebration Rides in 1996 and 2001 raised enough money to produce several acclaimed motorcycle awareness 30 second television commercials, also Darrell's idea. Launched in 1997 on Channel Nine's Midday Show with Kerrie-Anne Kennerley, the campaign ran for months initially around the country on all the commercial channels as a paid advertisement, thanks to sponsorship from motorcycle distributors and as a community service announcement. Channel 10 gave it an exceptional run on its network and when it mistakenly aired the commercial at the wrong time during the Australian Motorcycle Grand Prix, the network ran it prominently during the coverage of the Bathurst V8 Races at no charge. Interestingly the motorcycle accident statistics nosedived directly after this campaign began, a clear indication that the road behaviour and attitudes of car drivers could be modified by good motorcycle television.
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p75-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 31, 2016, 09:05:40 AM
1%ers, politicians, journalists and the Police often get a lot of bad press but I have met many who have shown decent human qualities, not the least of which is an impressive sense of humour. One that immediately comes to mind is Federal Liberal MP Alby Schultz. As I mentioned, last December when supporting the campaign to raise the profile of the positives of motorcycling, Alby made a crack that made everyone smile. Alby is famously known for his conservative political views. When addressing the press conference he revealed that he took up motorcycling to support his seriously depressed son who was a biker. This very personal revelation revealed a human side to Alby that many of us had not seen before. It also revealed an impressive sense of humour as he also explained that he was blind in one eye and therefore even he was surprised that motorcycling had made him look to the left.
My Motorcycling Life Part 2  Greg Hirst p81
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 01, 2016, 09:32:08 AM
But off I go for a day of riding, more often than not, in my trusty blue jeans. Why? Well, there's heat to consider. On a hot summer day, jeans are cooler. And then there's "appropriateness" of dress; I always feel a little odd sitting in the dentist's chair in a full set of leathers. Also, the creaking of body armour can be distracting at movies and dinner parties.
But mostly I wear jeans on days when I don't plan to crash. If I do think there's a high likelihood of a get-off, going on a fast sportbike ride with friends, for instance, I wear my full street leathers or Aerostich suit.
Same with helmet selection. Open or full-face? Do I feel lucky today? On "Safe" rides, I often take the open one, despite full-face helmets having saved
my chin and teeth from the tarmac grindstone in two roadracing crashes.
All of this is total lunacy, of course. Most of us aren't very good at predicting when or if a bike will go down. Accidents happen randomly, despite our best efforts to choreograph fate. We can't see the future; if we could, we'd stay home that day.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p14-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 02, 2016, 05:54:49 PM
We'd ride over the mountains, stop at The Lookout to warm our hands on coffee, then descend the serpentine road into Lake Elsinore for breakfast at a Main Street cafe. We'd tank up on coffee to the point of nerve damage, jitter out of the place, and streak back home. On one return ride, John and I had a little speed contest on a long downhill straight, and we both hit a dead-even 135 mph (indicated) on the Ducati and BMW. As we crouched behind our windscreens, all glassy-eyed with speed euphoria, two cars emerged out of the distance, coming toward us. At closer focus, they turned out to be police cars. Lights and sirens came on. John and I sat upright and pulled over.
The cops kept going and didn't turn around. They must have had larger fish to fry. John and I looked at each other and shrugged, then quickly rode down to the freeway and split for home, before they had time to set up a roadblock. It was one of those rare lucky moments in life, like being hanged and having the rope break. Over a fast-moving river.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p26
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 03, 2016, 12:05:53 PM
On a recent road trip I found myself thinking about our late and much-missed Editor-at-Large, Henry Manney III. Henry was what you might call a cheerful curmudgeon. He had a darkly humorous view of the human condition, and often prefaced his corrective anecdotes with the words, "If I were King of the World ..."
For instance, he'd walk into your office, ease himself into a chair, toss tweed cap onto his knee, and say: "If I were King of the World, motorists who block the fast lane on the freeway would be instantly vaporized with large ray guns mounted on overpasses." Or: "If I were King of the World, people who write checks in the Cash Only line at the supermarket would be turned over to the Barbary pirates and sold as palace eunuchs at the slave market in Al Qatrun."
His imaginary punishments for bad behaviour were always hilariously specific and harsh, yet apparently well-deserved.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p34
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 04, 2016, 08:02:03 AM
About 12 years ago, I'd felt almost exactly the same mixture of regret and relief in selling an old airplane— a 1945 Piper Cub that Barb and I had owned for many years. A fine old aircraft, but, like the boat, it needed winter storage, professional maintenance, licensing, a time-consuming drive to the airport, careful preflight examination, and good weather.
And it also required you to spend a perfectly good sunny summer weekend doing something other than riding your motorcycle. And there was the rub.
Many times I'd walk out of our house into a perfect summer morning on my way to the airport and think to myself, What a great day for a motorcycle ride.
Not that I didn't want to go flying, but riding was more... accessible. Less hassle. More immediately inviting. Less regulated and more free.
Exactly the same thing happened when we owned the sailboat. We'd be loading the car with food and supplies for a weekend of boating and I'd glance at my bikes sitting there in the garage. I'd look up at the sun, feel the warm breeze through the trees, and shake my head. What a great day for a motorcycle ride.
And, as we sat around in my workshop the other night, I leaned back in my festive plaid lawn chair, gazed fondly at my nearby DR650, and said, simply, "It's hard to beat a motorcycle."
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p44
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 05, 2016, 09:26:12 AM
So, as we sat discussing these things, our little gang of vehicle addicts gradually came up with an informal list of advantages the motorcycle has over other equipment-intensive pastimes—such as flying or boating—which enumerate as follows:
Motorcycles have no wingspan, draft, or mast height, so you can keep them at your own house, and you never have to rent a hangar, slip, or warehouse.
When the engine stops, you can pull over and put your foot down, instead of doing a dead-stick landing in a cornfield. Or getting towed to port.
When the weather turns really violent, you can retire to a place called "Nibble-Nook" and order a cheeseburger instead of sinking or crashing.
There are no mandatory and costly annual inspections.
You don't need permission from a control tower or harbourmaster to visit the men's room, refuel, or eat lunch.
During a big storm, you don't have to lie awake at night and picture your motorcycle bashing itself to pieces on some rocks.
Your selection of motels, restaurants, and acquaintances is not limited by shorelines or airports.
You can leave right from your garage and return to it without filing a flightplan. No one needs to be notified of your intentions.
Your "navigation system" fits in a back pocket or under the clear plastic of your tankbag. A compass is optional.
Your passengers generally don't require Dramamine.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p44-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 06, 2016, 10:36:20 PM
Some years ago, I was on a group ride with my friend Bruce Finlayson who was one of the best natural riders I ever knew. He made speed look easy. When the two of us rode together, he calmed himself down to my level, just out of politeness, but in a large group of fast guys he liked to run at the front.
Why? Because he could, and most of us hate to follow riders who are markedly slower than we are. It's almost painful. We are most comfortable dropping into our natural spot in the Great Mandala, and, in Bruce's case, that spot was generally in the lead.
Anyway, at a rest stop on this fast-moving ride, one of the guys (who I will call Bob) walked up to Bruce and said, "You've gotta slow down, man. You're gonna get someone killed."
Bruce looked at the guy thoughtfully for a long moment, then put his hand on his shoulder and said, "Bob, ride your own bike."
That phrase has stuck in my mind ever since. Even now, when I get pushing too hard to stay with another rider and things get a little loose, I calm the
situation down by saying to myself, "Egan, ride your own bike." 
Naturally, no one really likes to admit being slower than someone else, at least not in a group of friends off for a sportsbike ride through the countryside. But, as age and enlightened self-preservation (i.e. mortal fear) set in, I've developed a psychological defence for that problem, too.
When someone pulls away from me these days, I just shrug and say "So what? He's still slower than Rossi."
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p50-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 08, 2016, 09:37:43 AM
You don't talk to Surtees Jong before you realize you're dealing with a racer who has the soul of a mechanic and craftsman, with a deep, abiding love for
machinery and its place in history. He's one of us.
Or, with luck, we are one of him, inasmuch as we are able. And this past cold winter weekend, I sat down and read John Surtees' Motor-Cycling Book cover to cover. A well-written, fascinating look at riding and racing in the late 1950s.
When I finished the book, I set it down and went out to the workshop, turned up the heat, and spent some time dusting off my three hibernating bikes, Suddenly, all my riding synapses were firing again, and spring didn't seem so far away. Funny how energy and enthusiasm can travel across decades, like an echo whose resonance doesn't diminish with distance or time.
This old green book was like something I'd been waiting for without knowing, and it provided that rarest of all things, a good day in winter, when the driveway is frozen and snowflakes fall silently out of a dark sky.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p74-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 09, 2016, 07:19:29 AM
We were winding down a cliff-hanging road above the town of Urique, motoring through a canyon of huge rock spires, falling streams, and green foliage, when the road opened up on a spectacular view of the chasm below and the distant mountains. On a spur of land in the foreground was a small farm with burros roaming and apple blossoms blooming. The beauty of the spot was surreal. We shut off our bikes and just sat for a while.
Then I had one of those odd shifts of focus and looked down at my bike, and my dusty, worn gloves on the handlebars. We were in the greatest place in the world, but what had it taken to get here?
Quite a bit.
Learning to ride, getting a driver's license in high school. Acquiring tools, learning to change flat tires and clutch cables. Gaining dirt experience and going to dealerships to shop for the right bike. Installing knobbies and handguards and a skidplate. After years of youthful indigence, moving through a series of jobs that finally allowed you to afford a truck or a bike trailer. Learning to read maps and cross rivers in deep water. Finding helmets and enduro jackets and motocross boots that fit. Getting a passport, paying your bike registration, learning a smattering of useful Spanish...   
And living long enough to have friends who were crazy enough to do all these things, as well. People you could count on who'd gone through the same lifetime of motorcycle connections that had brought us to this perfect spot in time.
As I put my helmet back on, it occurred to me that you are never more completely the sum of everything you've ever been than when you take a slightly difficult motorcycle trip into a strange land. And make it back out again.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p77-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 10, 2016, 03:12:53 PM
A few weeks ago, I put two new Metzelers on my vintage Ducati 900SS and had both wheels off the bike while I ran them over to my friend Al Gothard's shop for a session on his tire machine. So here's this beautiful old black Ducati with no wheels, teetering on a floor jack, nearly two feet off the ground. I attached tie-down straps from the bike to an overhead beam in my garage, just to help reduce the level of paranoia, but it was still an iffy deal.
The wheels and new tires went back on the bike the moment I returned from Al's shop. I couldn't have slept that night with the bike on a jack. But then I can't leave a car engine dangling on a chain, either. It causes nightmares in which I'm visited by the ghost of Sir Isaac Newton, who shakes his head sadly and leaves me a printed copy of his universal law of gravitation, only it's in Latin and I can't read it.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p102
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 11, 2016, 09:23:31 AM
But there may be a new market emerging, a demand for adult-sized bikes that specifically get mileage worth bragging about, while also keeping up with modern commuter traffic. Honda produced a whole range of bikes like this— with stunning mileage— in the 1960s. So did the Europeans, for that matter, and the Brits. We know how to do this stuff. Have forever.
So if I were designing a new bike for myself right now, it might turn out surprisingly like a modern version of the old Velocette I'm riding, a bike originally designed as real transportation in post-war England, when fuel was costly and money hard to come by.
It would be an adult-sized 500cc Single with handsome engine architecture and a dry weight of no more than 375 pounds. It would have a flat, comfortable dual-seat, quality chrome, exquisite finish, a great exhaust note and owner-adjustable valves, and handle well enough to do track days— if anyone felt like it. It would be an object of pride, rather than just dismal utility.
Best of all, it would get better mileage than a 2,890-pound Toyota Prius. Which, of the six bikes I have in my garage, only the Velocette now does. The only thing it wouldn't do is leak a large puddle of oil when parked. Good mileage is nice, but I hate leaving carbon footprints all over my workshop.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p111-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 12, 2016, 10:50:07 AM
I recalled that my dad once said all my actions when I was a kid followed a predictable pattern. "You'd go to the Elroy's Theatre," he said, "watch a movie about paratroopers, and then go straight down to the Elroy Library and bring home every book they had on the subject. Then you'd make a parachute out of an old bed sheet and jump off our roof and sprain your ankle."
My dad was exaggerating, of course. I didn't jump off the roof— I jumped out of my second-story bedroom window— and I didn't sprain my ankle. I hurt my back, and it still hurts today.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p128
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 13, 2016, 11:15:24 AM
We made it home the next day, all on backroads again, riding just a little farther than our avowed 300-mile-per-day laid-back limit.
A minor failure' but the evening light was so good with the sun behind us we didn't want to stop riding. And we got home without seeing a drop of rain or a dark cloud for three days.
Blue skies, no wind, unlimited visibility.
I unpacked and washed my bike yesterday. Today it's raining like crazy, and this morning I threw my back out again for the first time in months. Meanwhile, in the Southeast, heavy rains and floods are washing away entire trailer parks. Mike called and said it's 53 degrees and raining in Fort Collins today. Terror suspects were arrested in Denver. Suddenly it feels like National Back-to-Reality Week.
But, once or twice in a lifetime, you get lucky. The weather gods forget where you've gone, your bike runs perfectly, your helmet fits fine, and time stands still, mysteriously stuck in neutral on the best week of the year.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p148
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 14, 2016, 09:40:34 AM
Motorcycling is basically a happy business. No one has to own a motorcycle in this country— cars are often cheaper and more practical- but we buy them because they make us happy. And we ride and hang out with other riders for the same reason. Bikes and motorcycle trips add colour and texture to life, in the same way that rock-n-roll brought new life to grey old Liverpool when the Beatles came along. Like that music, they stand out in sharp contrast against everything predictable and ordinary. Those of us who know this have stick together.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p151
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 15, 2016, 09:06:52 AM
Now the Norton is on the workstand in my garage, snowed in for the duration. I spent yesterday polishing the cases with Simichrome (the most rewarding job, per minute, in all motorcycling) but haven't taken anything apart yet. I need to look at the thing for a few days in its complete form, just to soak it in.
It's a strange thing to say, but when I have a Norton in my garage, I actually feel more relaxed and content with the world, almost as if some part of my soul
is fully at rest.
There are a few select things, I believe, that every individual is intended to have in this life, almost as a matter of course. Objects that seem to have been designed for someone with your exact genetic wiring, and you know it instinctively when you see them. For me, there are a few guitars like this and a small handful of motorcycles. Besides the Norton, a black Les Paul Custom comes to mind ... with three pickups...
Crass materialism?
Perhaps, but I like to think of it in more spiritual terms, as a classic example of Predestination. But with more chrome and no funeral.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p157
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 16, 2016, 10:05:15 AM
The only drawback to Road King ownership, really, is you have to put up with droll comments from some of your riding buddies who wouldn't own a Harley at gunpoint, put off as they are by all the lifestyle nonsense that goes around the marque.
I get to hear a constant litany of "Don't you need more conchos?" or "Where's your do-rag with skulls on it?" I often play along with the joke and attack these people with my brass knuckles.
Just kidding. All this harmless flak never fazes a person of my low sensitivity and awareness, nor does it affect the quality of the bike. I ride for my own pleasure so the motivations of others are moot. They have their fun; I have mine. In any case, this reaction to Harley ownership is interesting for its reflection on technical progress, if nothing else.
In the bad old days (a.k.a. the 1970s), in order to cough up the money for a Big Twin, you had to really want one, ignoring the slow acceleration, bad brakes, clunky transmissions, destructive vibration, vague handling, etc.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p163
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 17, 2016, 12:12:58 PM
Norton owners have been installing fatter rubber on Commandos for decades now, apparently in search of more traction for stoplight drag racing or just a wider selection of modern tire compounds for better grip in corners. Admittedly, the stock 19-inch rear wheel looks almost like a bicycle rim by modern standards— and the typical 4.10-size Dunlop K81 has the same basic tread footprint as a large ring of Polish sausage.
Nevertheless, this stock, narrow combination looks "right" to me and gives the Commando a proper tall and rangy look, like an MG-TC with its "four harps supporting a coffin" 19-inch wire wheels. In other words, I'm willing to give up some grip for good looks— which reminds me of an unfortunate date I had in high school, but that's another story.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p165
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 18, 2016, 09:20:32 AM
That evening, Ren and Marilyn had everyone over to their cabin and opened a few bottles of the eye-wateringly excellent cabernet from their own vineyard (Paradigm), and I accidentally magnetically wandered, glass-in-hand, out to the garage to look at the black R100S.
A lovely bike to ride, and quite an impressive piece of motorcycle sculpture I think.
Barb and I'd had some good times on these bikes. We rode that yellow testbike from Colorado to Wisconsin and back to California across Texas and the Southwest. Took a silver one through the Alps for a week, and Ren's black beauty through northern California a few years ago. And now this trip. All with the same group of people. But three of them are no longer with us.
This black one was special, of course. We'd ridden with Ren Jr. when he first got the bike, and it was a nice reminder of those times and the thing that had
brought and held us together all these years, which was riding. Sometimes it's hard to separate the symbolism and personal meaning of a bike from your attraction to it.
I guess that's because you can't, and shouldn't even try.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p202
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 19, 2016, 08:43:50 AM
When you absolutely have to be somewhere, the slow progress on a two-lane road—stuck behind slow drivers, with a few detours thrown in—can almost reduce you to tears of frustration. When you finally hit the interstate and twist that throttle open, you feel like Superman bursting out of a phone booth. Free at last.
Conversely, when you have time to spare and can take that exit onto Farm Road 233, you feel like someone who's rocketed in from the coldness of outer space and landed on a new green planet. Everything slows down, colour intensifies, noise is muted, and the world takes on a serene, life-in-a-fish-tank quality. brain occupied, and you stop calculating distance and looking at that digital clock on the instrument panel. Progress slows, but time flies.
I had a nice dose of both kinds of road on this trip and enjoyed the contrast. But I must say that if the day ever comes when I have all the time I need— and enough travel money for all those inviting small-town cafes and rustic cabins and motels— my tires will seldom touch the interstate.
The exits still have the on-ramps beat.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p205
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on April 19, 2016, 05:56:02 PM
This is good reading Biggles, please continue.   :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 20, 2016, 08:46:47 AM
There days, a lot of younger, less experienced riders come up to me and say, "Mr. Egan, you have an almost legendary reputation for being able to change the oil and filter on your motorcycles without spilling more than about thirty percent of the oil onto the garage floor or your own clothing. How the heck do you do it?" I tell them, "Well, kids, part of it is experience. I worked for almost a decade as a foreign-car mechanic, and I've also owned and maintained a lot of motorcycles in my life. But basically, it's a Zen thing; you have to work thoughtfully and carefully, planning every move and wasting no motion to be at one with your motorcycle and the molecular flow of lubricants in the universe."
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p230
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 21, 2016, 08:34:08 AM
Back home, I followed the oil-change instructions in the owner's manual and began my sublime work. Here's where the specific instruction kicks in. Pay careful attention.
Step 1: Place a "suitable container" under the sump or oil reservoir— which, in the Buell's case, is in the hollow swingarm above the end of the muffler— and remove the plug. A stream of scalding hot oil will run down over the rear of the muffler and cascade into the pan, like Niagara Falls in a nightmare. Some will run down to the far end of the muffler and onto the floor. Or trickle warmly down your forearm and into your sleeve.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p231
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 22, 2016, 08:06:27 AM
Step 2: While oil is dripping from the drain hole and muffler, remove the small chin fairing and place another pan under the oil filter. Remove the filter with a web-type tool, and stand back as oil from the engine and filter run over the front of the muffler and into the pan. Much of the oil will follow the bottom of the muffler and run onto the floor. Expect some to drip off the filter wrench onto your blue jeans. Accidentally drop the slippery, hot filter into the pan for a
nice splash effect.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p231
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 23, 2016, 09:34:42 AM
Step 4: Carry the main oil drain pan across the workshop and dump it down a large funnel into a disgustingly filthy, oil-streaked, red plastic five-gallon gas can with the words "DRAIN OIL" scrawled across it so people don't accidentally drink from it.
Step 5: Check to make sure this can isn't already almost full. Otherwise, about two quarts of drain oil will well up around the sides of the funnel and run onto the floor, as mine did. Expect some oil to run down the back side of the pouring spout on the drain pan and drip onto your running shoes.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p231
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 24, 2016, 11:46:39 AM
The sharp reader will note that some oil was actually spilled during this process, but that the majority of it ended up in either the bike or some kind  of container. Is there a truly perfect, Zen-like way to change your oil, working calmly and logically, without spilling a drop?
I suppose somebody somewhere can do it, but not me. There's a remote possibility that I'm too impatient and impulsive or just too unskilled.
In any case, I've found the best substitute for skill is to work alone. That way, no one knows you're not at one with the serene, clock-like machinery of the universe. Or how much you swear.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p232
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 25, 2016, 01:25:22 PM
It could have been a bad moment for a new rider. But luckily, I'm an old rider who's already fallen on his elbow in a situation exactly like this, so I stayed
off the brakes, took the gentle "rain line" through the corner, and slithered through without incident. Holding your breath helps. 
Wet, new-fallen autumn leaves were the problem here. Seems we had a wild spell of wind and rain last night, which pretty much stripped the woods of their last vestige of fall color and pasted all those red and yellow leaves to the road surface. And these babies are slippery, belonging as they do to the banana peel family of deciduous foliage. I hit a patch of them while riding my CB160 to class when I was in college and learned to see the world from a whole new angle.
Incidentally, I see here in my dictionary that deciduous comes from the Latin verb decidere, which means "to fall off." I guess this also means some of
us are deciduous riders. One fall begets another.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p236
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 26, 2016, 09:10:51 AM
I don't think I'm exaggerating much when I say my BSA 441 Victor ran last weekend. Yes, the thing actually carried me up the hill to the nearest stop sign and then roared back down again. Exactly two miles under its own power. It was a little brisk out there— almost too cold for combustion— but I hardly noticed because I was drenched in sweat from kicking for 20 minutes and then physically running the bike up and down the driveway to break the clutch loose and bump-start it. This is something I do every few years to see if I'm overdue for a massive heart attack. It's a lot cheaper than having a stress test at the hospital, and it allows you to perish right at home, with your loved ones nearby. In any case, the second I popped the clutch in third gear, the Victor fired up and took off like a bazooka round, only with more smoke. This is a bike from England's black-powder era.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p242
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 27, 2016, 09:54:24 AM
When I got home I called a couple of the usual suspects, riding buddies Mike and Lew, to see what their story was. "Are you kidding?" Mike said. "My dad was a doctor and he called them murdercycles: I joined the Air Force specifically so I could leave home and buy a motorcycle. I bought a Kawasaki Trail Boss 100 when I was stationed in Okinawa. Two weeks after I got there."
Interesting. Bikes are unsafe at home, so Lee becomes a helicopter pilot in Vietnam and Mike ends up installing bombs on F-4 Phantom jets in Okinawa. I think this is called the Law of Unintended Consequences.
When I called Lew, he said, "My parents absolutely didn't want me to get a bike. My dad was a skilled auto mechanic who owned his own shop, but he had no use for motorcycles—or the people who rode them. I finally talked my folks into letting me buy a Cushman scooter."
"What was your first real motorcycle?
"A BSA 650 Lightning."
"Wow! How did you manage that?" "I traded my beautiful black 1951 Cadillac hearse straight across with a friend who had the BSA. My dad was actually very glad to see the hearse go."
Brilliant strategy, I thought to myself. Just plain brilliant.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p256
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Sicman on April 27, 2016, 10:00:37 AM
Biggles - This thread has been going so long you will need a new typewriter ribbon very soon  :whistle ;-*
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 27, 2016, 12:14:30 PM
Biggles - This thread has been going so long you will need a new typewriter ribbon very soon  :whistle ;-*

I'm frugal- I keep re-inking the same ribbon.    :p
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Wild Rose on April 27, 2016, 01:36:59 PM
Biggles - This thread has been going so long you will need a new typewriter ribbon very soon  :whistle ;-*

I'm frugal- I keep re-inking the same ribbon.    :p

 :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 28, 2016, 11:39:38 AM
Other than Honda's rediscovery of the inline-Four (and sublime Six), we really didn't make much progress until Yamaha came up with its "Omni-Phase Balancer" for its 500cc and 750cc four-stroke Twins in 1973. I remember a great debate about this at the time. Some thought this was cheating because these chain-driven dual counterbalance shafts added complexity to the bike without furthering its measurable performance. What would we have next? Cannibalism in our schools? The end was near.
Well, two of my favourite modern bikes, the Bonneville and the Suzuki DR650, have counterbalancers in them, and I don't mind a bit. I can't see or hear them, they never wear out, and my hands and feet aren't humming like tuning forks at the end of a ride. Headlight filaments light up the night, and the exhaust pipes never fall off.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p259
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 29, 2016, 11:31:36 AM
On Canada's Highway 17, we soon discovered a pleasant fact. Canadians drive like bats out of hell. Their roads are seriously under-posted (90 kph, or about 55 mph, even on four-lane segments), but no one pays any attention They all go 70 to 90 mph, speeding along politely without aggression, keeping right except to pass. And you never see a cop. Pure heaven.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p266
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 30, 2016, 11:17:15 AM
And even now, as we stopped at a scenic lookout to gaze at the Atlantic, Barb said, "It feels like we're a long way from home."
Truly, as you turn away from the Saint Lawrence and along the Atlantic cliffs, the ocean suddenly looks vast, with nothing but Europe out there somewhere. Even the road feels lonelier, and there's less traffic and tourism. The roller-coaster pavement makes steep climbs and descents, sweeping down on the coast and briefly inland at small bays, like California's Big Sur. The curves are all sweepers- no scorch-the-edge-off-your-tires stuff. Everything can be taken at 70 mph. Symphonic riding, with the cymbal crashing of waves.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p269
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 01, 2016, 12:45:17 PM
She gazed out the tinted window at the passing traffic and said, "Well, was the Gaspe Peninsula what you expected?
I thought about it and shook my head. "No," I said. "It's not as poor and remote as I pictured. It's greener, more vast and mountainous. Still rustic and beautiful, but more prosperous and complex. Also, much farther away. From our place, it's like going to California and back."
Barb nodded. Apparently she'd noticed.
As we rode toward home I pondered Barb's question further and realized that no place I'd ever been turned out to be exactly as I'd imagined it while sitting at home. Not Vietnam, Paris, Katmandu, or Yellowstone Park. Nothing is ever what you expect. Maybe that's why we travel.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p271
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 02, 2016, 09:08:13 AM
On the backroads, cruising at 50 mph- or 35 mph on long, steep climbs— we quickly discovered that there's an entire American subculture of drivers, mostly polite older people in modestly priced sedans, who have probably never passed another licensed vehicle in their lives and absolutely don't know what to do when presented with the opportunity. So they follow you forever, even when the road is wide open. Eventually you have to pull over and wave them past.
Or maybe they just like following sidecars and watching them. I would.
Leanings 3  Peter Egan p285
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 03, 2016, 08:36:44 AM
With a single cylinder 25 cubic inch engine capable of three horsepower, it was the first product of a company that become synonymous with bikers and outlaw motorcycle clubs— Harley-Davidson.
The two-wheeler gained its bad reputation almost immediately. By 1909 motorcyclists already had the image of being non-conformists. A Harper's Weekly magazine article of the time headlined "The rise of the motorcycle" stated:
They [motorcyclists] would ride in city or open country with their mufflers cut out, or in numerous cases absolutely devoid of muffling attachments. In some instances it was the rider's desire for noise, or to bring attention to the fact that he owned a motorcycle; in other instances it was the owner's desire for more power; but, whichever the case, this offence in principle conjunction with that of unsuitable attire has done more to retard the advancement of motorcycling in general than all other arguments combined.
The Brotherhoods  Arthur Veno p19
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 04, 2016, 10:42:37 AM
I owned a Vespa scooter for two-and-a-half years in my late teens, when a friend of mine scored an old BSA 500. Because I could work the gears and knew where the brakes were, he let me have a ride. He gave me a quick lesson on what was where, and off I went. I gave the throttle a nudge on a straight bit of road and felt the adrenalin pumping. I gave it a little more, then a little more. Man, I was hanging on for life. I looked down at the speedo, which read 95 miles per hour! I almost freaked out and started to back off the throttle but I wanted to push it that little bit closer to the edge. Bingo— 100 miles per hour. I looked down. The road was screaming past only six inches from my feet and tears were flowing from my eyes. Still, I wanted to go faster. Then I thought to myself, man, this is crazy, and jammed on the brakes. I slowly turned the machine around and sedately rode back to my friend. I was shaking, completely pumped up, and hyped for days afterwards.
I knew I'd kill myself if I ever got a road motorcycle.
The Brotherhoods  Arthur Veno p27-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 05, 2016, 09:33:37 AM
The one word I come across over and over in my discussions with riders is freedom. For many, it's why they adopt the biker lifestyle. The sense of freedom in riding like there's no tomorrow on the open road, the wind in your face, handling a powerful and responsive machine— you can't get that in a car. In fact, most bikers say their real personality comes out when they're on the bike. Part of that may come from the demands on the rider. It takes a hell of a lot of concentration to ride a bike fast. For many, that's where the freedom lies. They can shut out the stress of office politics, shit jobs and bad relationships.
The Brotherhoods  Arthur Veno p30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 06, 2016, 09:32:18 AM
This bloke breaks down in the middle of nowhere and gets down to look at his bike. A voice just behind him says, "It's the spark plug." He looks around but there are only two horses standing in the paddock near the road. He stares at the horses when one of them appears to move its mouth and say, "It's the spark plug, mate." This can't be happening, the bloke thinks, and continues to work on his bike.
Sure enough, the problem is the spark plug. He fixes it and heads into the nearest town for a beer. In town, he tells the barman what happened. The barman looks at him and asks: "Were there two horses in the paddock?"
"Yeah," the bloke replies. "A brown one and a white one."
"Was the brown one near the fence?" the barman asks.
"Yeah," the bloke replies. "Why?"
"You're lucky," says the barman. "The white one doesn't know anything about bikes."
The Brotherhoods  Arthur Veno p98
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 07, 2016, 09:23:15 AM
These runs always commence and end at the same place, usually a capital clubhouse. So it was with the Rebels' annual run, which started at its central Sydney chapter clubhouse. But instead of 300 bikies roaring out of town, the motorcycles were loaded onto trucks and club members flew to Adelaide— the destination for the run. Adelaide was chosen to support the notion that wars between the clubs had ended in South Australia.
The bikes were delivered to the central clubhouse in Adelaide. The next day, a protest rally was held near Parliament House. The Rebels weren't allowed to ride by Parliament, and were instead allocated parking about a kilometre away. So they parked their bikes and walked to Parliament. And these were bikies! The club had planned a run about 50 kilometres from the city the following day but because it was raining, the run was cancelled. No other rides were planned, so the bikes were loaded back onto the trucks and returned to Sydney. The total mileage for this once-mighty club was about 21 kilometres, instead of the usual thousands.
The Brotherhoods  Arthur Veno p261
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 08, 2016, 12:03:34 PM
Many senior members are now literally unable to handle big Harley-Davidsons. They tend to become what is termed in Australia a "life member", which means they are exempt from all duties of the club, except for an annual run, in most cases. They sometimes participate in club activities by riding a trike or travelling by car.
It's a problem in the wider biker community. In recent years the number of deaths among motorcycle riders aged over 35 in the United States has risen nearly 60 per cent, compared with a 22 per cent fall among younger riders. Australian figures would mirror that trend. A major reason for this is the average age of motorcycle buyers in the United States rising from 25 to 39. Some find they don't have the strength to keep a Harley upright when they stop at the lights.
The Brotherhoods  Arthur Veno p267
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 09, 2016, 08:20:08 AM
To a person of fifty-five from Wisconsin who has gained twelve pounds over the winter and has had no exercise except to walk the dogs on those rare days when it's above zero, several miles of repetitious sand whoops are the equivalent to your first day in basic training— all pushups and deep knee bends. But we did not melt down and eventually got into the rhythm of riding in the sand, which is simply a form of fatalism. You abandon yourself to the constant sensation of imminent crashing, sit back on the saddle loose as a goose, and keep the power on.
Pat caught onto this very quickly, and was soon riding faster than I was. I have an Early Tankslapper Warning System (ETWS) embedded in my brain that, tragically, prevents me from really dialling it on in deep sand. It has its roots in a high-speed face-plant I managed in the Barstow-to-Vegas dual-purpose ride
one year. Yes, in the sand I am damaged goods.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 10, 2016, 02:56:44 PM
What Rob found there was an off-road riding paradise. A nice old ranch house, a barn filled with a funky, charismatic assortment of motorcycles, and nearly 7,000 acres of soaring grass pastureland, scenic ridges, shaded valleys full of trees, barely climbable buttes, and steep cattle trails leading down into the river bottoms.
Randy and his family had moved into a newer home nearby, so the old original ranch house had magically mutated into a kind of clubhouse for motorcyclists, decorated with Norton posters, Triumph signs, and other old bike memorabilia. There was a real jukebox in the dining room and a lifetime supply of motorcycle videos and classic John Ford Westerns piled next to the TV in the living room.
Life honed to perfection, in other words.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 11, 2016, 10:42:43 AM
It is possible to get by with just one motorcycle, I'm told, and lead a fairly normal life. Single-bike ownership, after all, is the very thing for which dual-purpose motorcycles were created: To go anywhere and do everything reasonably well. Get yourself a good XL or KLR 600 and you can ride to the Arctic Circle, see the dusty side of Baja, commute to work, or carve up a canyon, all on one bike. You're set for life, right?
Wrong. Dual-purpose is about six purposes too few, if life is to have the proper balance and variety. For instance, what if you've got an XL600 in the garage and suddenly take a fancy to the idea of polishing and admiring the kind of inch-deep chrome pipes and mufflers found only on old Nortons and Triumphs? Ever try to find one piece of good chrome on a modern dual-purpose bike? Or what if you do own an old Triumph and want to ride to the Arctic Circle but are not fond of hitchhiking in the cold and living with timber wolves? What if you've got a nice, long-legged BMW for touring, but suddenly get homesick for the insane race bike whoop of a high-revving Japanese four?
Funny you should ask. Those are the very questions I've been asking myself lately.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p52-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 12, 2016, 09:13:56 AM
As a sport-tourer the big Honda worked pretty well, at least for my particular tastes. It has a big, 7.4-gallon fuel tank, for 250-plus miles between fill-ups, a wonderfully comfortable seat for both pilot and passenger, and— best of all— genuinely tall gearing. It purrs along at a relaxed, 3000 rpm at sixty miles per hour. At a mere 4,000 rpm, it's going eighty.
As for shortcomings, the ST has a windshield that at certain speeds generates helmet-level turbulence, with a whorl that carries cold air down the rider's
back and— by extension— down the passenger's front.
The ST is also quite heavy at 700 pounds (with fuel). Though like a lot of big Hondas, it disguises its weight well. Without working too hard, we were able to stay with a gaggle of well-mounted sport bike guys who thought they were dragging their knees in corners. In short, the ST is a nice bike for people whose touring tastes lie somewhere between Goldwing conservatism and race bike masochism, which is probably a lot of people. In fact, I'm one.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p71
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 13, 2016, 09:46:32 AM
At the visitors' centre, people were pulling into the parking lot in motor homes and air-conditioned cars, some opening cans of cold soda, walking up to the hilltop in their usual tourist attire— Bermuda shorts, Reeboks, the ubiquitous Hard Rock Cafe sweatshirts, Disneywear, etc.
Suddenly, for reasons more intuitive than rational, I was very glad we'd arrived at the battlefield on a motorcycle.
It seemed somehow more fitting to have ridden four days through cold, heat, and rain to get there; to be wearing boots and leather jackets and clothing with a purpose; to have the soles of our boots still damp from yesterdays downpour; to be wind-burned, saddle sore, and a little dusty. It didn't seem quite right to step out of a motor home, open a soft drink, and walk 300 feet to the spot where Custer and his men died in the terrible heat and dust on a June morning 115 years ago. The ease of the act was mildly disquieting.
It wasn't realistic or possible to arrive as the cavalry and Indians had, after gruelling weeks on horseback, but a motorcycle was at least a semi-legitimate modern counterpart. It made one's arrival seem more sympathetic to the spirit of the place.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p83-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 15, 2016, 06:20:55 PM
Essentially, what the public does not like is fast bikes, and 100 horsepower has become the bogey, the place in the mind where others begin having too much fun or behaving too dangerously.
Never mind that there has never been any link made between horsepower and motor accidents. In fact, some insurance studies have shown an inverse relationship, probably because young, inexperienced motorcyclists can seldom afford big, powerful bikes. I've been riding for twenty-nine years, and the causes of near accidents have always been the same: sand on corners, wet leaves, car turning left, following too closely, passing too late. None of my close calls had anything do with horsepower. I had exactly the same threats to good health on my Honda CB160 as I have now on my Ducati 900SS. More, in fact, because I was less experienced.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p101
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 16, 2016, 05:46:43 PM
Why am I saying all this?
Well, to paraphrase Will Rogers, I never met a horsepower I didn't like.
Horsepower gets us around trucks right now, livens acceleration in uphill sweepers, allows us to carry a passenger and luggage without diminished elan, tugs (or, better yet, yanks) gratifyingly on the arms when we pass the city limits sign. Horsepower is fun. And it has not escaped my notice over the years that, within my own small, ever-changing motorcycle stable, I have tended to favour those bikes with power over those that were lacking it. Once I bought my KZ1000, my CB750 Honda went almost unridden. One weekend on a BMW R100RS bike caused me to trade in my sweet-running but docile R80 for the bigger Boxer. The new generation of more powerful Ducatis quickly seduced me away from my favourite bevel-drive Duck. The new BMW K1100RS I rode last week is much nicer than the old K100RS, and people are constantly trading in their 883 Sportsters on 1200s or big twins. They almost never, ever, go the other direction.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p103
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 17, 2016, 09:11:51 AM
There are times, I suppose, when loud pipes do notify car drivers of your presence— during a pass, for instance, or in those states where you are allowed to split lanes. But it has been my observation that a sudden, loud exhaust note usually just causes an unaware driver to swerve or make some other erratic manoeuvre, and leaves that hapless individual with a vague sense of having been mugged. I don't know if sonic shock waves make a pass any safer. What loud pipes mostly do is make the public madder than an over-turned anthill on a hot day.
When a motorcycle annoys or shocks them, they compose imaginary (or real) letters to their senators and representatives and daily newspapers demanding that motorcycles obey the same noise laws as cars. Eventually, this legislation gets passed, and our new motorcycles are so quiet we can't hear them at all.
Meanwhile, manufacturers are forced to develop water-cooled, heavily shrouded engines so they can eliminate the last audible trace of piston slap, gear whine, intake noise, and valve clatter from a bike that may soon be roaring around with its mufflers off. Logic and good sense are once more defeated.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p104
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 18, 2016, 09:07:03 AM
Everybody drives. But not everybody rides a motorcycle. There's a finer focus here; thousands are eliminated from the sport by timidity, incompetence, or— most often— simple lack of interest. So those who participate automatically become members of a relatively small club.
Probably the best known historical figure to have been a motorcycle buff is T. E. Lawrence. He had the unfortunate distinction, of course, of being killed on his Brough Superior, but it was not such a bad end to a dashing life. Though he was also an avid bicyclist and an aviation devotee, Lawrence's most impassioned descriptions of machinery and the joy of speed are dedicated to motorcycling, mostly in a few great passages from his oft-quoted book, The Mint.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p127
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 19, 2016, 09:28:34 AM
Besides writers, and the random anomalous capitalist such as Malcolm Forbes, most of motorcycling's celebrity exponents seem to have come from showbiz. We've had Clark Gable, Robert Young, Keenan Wynn, Marlon Brando, James Dean, Lee Marvin, Elvis, Bob Dylan, Arlo Guthrie, Duane Allman, Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, the Carradine brothers, and many others revealed to the public as riders whose enthusiasm goes beyond movie screen or the recording studio. And then there's Steve McQueen. When I was in high school, McQueen made bike ownership seem almost a requirement, like breathing.
Currently, Jay Leno is probably the celebrity best known to the general public as a motorcycle nut. As such, he may have done more good than the Honda 50 to convince the American population that motorcycling is fun and enjoyable ("If Jay likes bikes...").
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p128
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 20, 2016, 09:45:39 AM
Besides writers, and the random anomalous capitalist such as Malcolm Forbes, most of motorcycling's celebrity exponents seem to have come from showbiz. We've had Clark Gable, Robert Young, Keenan Wynn, Marlon Brando, James Dean, Lee Marvin, Elvis, Bob Dylan, Arlo Guthrie, Duane Allman, Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, the Carradine brothers, and many others revealed to the public as riders whose enthusiasm goes beyond movie screen or the recording studio. And then there's Steve McQueen. When I was in high school, McQueen made bike ownership seem almost a requirement, like breathing.
Currently, Jay Leno is probably the celebrity best known to the general public as a motorcycle nut. As such, he may have done more good than the Honda 50 to convince the American population that motorcycling is fun and enjoyable ("If Jay likes bikes...").
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p128
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 21, 2016, 05:03:56 PM
Not only has the downward slide been arrested, says Yamaha, but the boomers are exhibiting a trend that apparently has never before been seen in the entire history of the whole world: They are becoming more active as they get older, rather than less.
Traditionally, fifty to sixty-year-olds have slowed down, growing more comfortable and complacent, not to say doddering, buying cardigan sweaters, baggy pants with a scosh more room, etc.
But not the boomers. No way.
We (I am one, after all) are apparently behaving like agitated air molecules in an overheated laboratory flask, bouncing off the walls. As a group we are getting fitter, spending more time outdoors, and blowing more of our income on canoes, parachutes, mountain bikes, skis, and motorcycles. For the time being, at least, it appears we are going to boogie 'til we drop.
Good for us, I say.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p136-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 22, 2016, 12:41:10 PM
I know this sounds ridiculously superstitious, and I am not trying to imbue simple nuts and bolts with some kind of foggy New Age mysticism. But just as some dogs can sense fear in their adversaries, I swear an old British bike can sense patronizing approval. Especially if its not backed up with the required hours of meticulous maintenance. Even a trace of sloppy sentiment turns the bike instantly into a lightning rod for trouble.
We call them British bikes, but in a sense they aren't British at all. They are Greek, in the classic dramatic sense, like the men and gods in Homer. Beautiful, spirited, heroic, flawed, and full of fateful games that measure hubris against honour and seek to test our tenacity and sense of adventure.
They are here to see what we are made of, not to be our friends.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p163
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 23, 2016, 09:08:51 AM
Suddenly, while we were cruising through the town of Fort Atkinson, only about eighteen miles from home, Tom waved us all over to the side of the road. "That corner back there looked like a nice spot," he said. "What say we stop for a beer or some coffee?"
I looked back over my shoulder at the bar and then at the road ahead. I was struck absolutely speechless for a moment. Finally my brain and jaw kicked in. "Sure," I said reluctantly, "why not?"
The problem was, I'd never done such a thing. One of my longtime bad habits as a touring motorcyclist has been to get "homing instinct" toward the end of a long trip. This is where you put the hammer down and blow off the last day (or two) of your ride so you can get back to the old homestead. No long lunches, scenic overlooks, or detours on side roads. Just twist that grip and go.
I have no idea why I do this. After a long midwestern winter spent dreaming about long rides, you'd expect a person to savour every mile and delay the end of a trip as long as possible, but it seldom works that way for me. Or at least it didn't until Tom brought me to my senses. I sat in the bar that day and vowed to do better, and since then I've been at least partially successful, if not fully reformed.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p185
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 24, 2016, 09:34:34 AM
You learn many things at a track session, but I've always thought the most valuable gift of the racetrack is faith in your tires. Every year that I don't ride on the track, my cornering lean angle gets about two degrees more upright and I start to forget just how hard you can lean on a good set of modern motorcycle tires.
The track brings it all back into focus. This renewed insight doesn't necessarily make you ride faster on the street, but it lets you ride more safely because you have a better sense of how much traction is left in reserve. And there's usually a lot more than you think.
Most of the crashes I've seen over the years (or almost had myself) have stemmed from a simple lack of belief. Halfway through a botched corner the rider says, "I can't get out of this," and subsequently gives up and crashes, as if surrendering to fate.
Track time makes you believe in your tires again. Especially the unused, shiny parts, with those little rubber bristles on them.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p199
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 25, 2016, 11:15:19 AM
The problem was, I'd just dumped a full gallon of gasoline into the tank of a newly acquired green 1973 Honda CB350G and I'd forgotten these things have underslung cross-over hoses to equalize the fuel level in both sides of the tank. This one was disconnected, so fuel was spewing all over the place.
And I, like that famous Dutch boy, was trying to reach under the tank and plug the dyke with two fingers on the spigots. Meanwhile, gasoline gushed over the bike and down the insides of my coverall sleeves, flowing into a huge puddle that spread ominously in all directions, like the dark borders of Fascism in one of those old World War II documentaries.
As I knelt in the fuel, looking in all directions for something to plug the tank, my overhead workshop furnace kicked in, igniting the propane with the
usual loud WHOMP!
This was not good.
What would my friends at the funeral say? Probably, "What was he thinking?"
To which the terrible answer would be, "Apparently, nothing."
Acting decisively, I lifted the unlocked motorcycle seat with my chin and wrenched the entire tank off the bike, tilting the fuel away from the outlets. I ran outside with the tank and opened the garage doors to lean out the fumes in my workshop, which was running a little rich, you might say.
Fifteen minutes later, I had the floor cleaned and everything back in order. No fire. Saved again.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p221
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 26, 2016, 10:19:37 AM
"I don't know," I admitted, glancing self-consciously at my other five bikes.
"Gotta get one," he said. "A full-fairing SP, just like this. Your assignment, Egan," he said with mock Mission Impossible gravity, "is to help me find one." So that afternoon I called my pal Mike Mosiman in Fort Collins, Colorado. Mike is a motorcycle addict who spends more time on the Internet searching for motorcycle bargains than most people spend breathing. "We need an SP," I told him.
Mike called back fifteen minutes later and said, "Okay, I got on the 'net and found you a nice one in Cleveland. A '96 SP with only 4,000 miles; rejetted, sprocket, high Ferracci pipes. Owner sounds like a nice guy, says it's immaculate and wants around $6,000 for it."
I passed along this information to Jim, and the next day he called me back. "Want to go to Cleveland with me this weekend and pick up a Ducati?" he asked.
"Sure," I said, "sounds like fun."
"Oh, by the way, can we take your van?"
"Sure," I said. "Do you need anything else? Shoes or anything?
"No, just your van, and some help loading the bike. I have shoes."
So we drove to Cleveland, picked up the bike (immaculate, as represented), and stayed overnight near Toledo on the way home. Jim bought me dinner at a Mexican restaurant and we toasted his rebirth as a motorcyclist with a couple of Margaritas.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p231
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 27, 2016, 09:46:00 AM
Dirt Bike Incentive No. 3, you might say, is anecdotal. In the past year I've had at least four acquaintances tell me their dual-sport bikes, originally purchased for trail riding, have gradually become their favourite streetbikes, by virtue of their light weight, simplicity, and nimbleness. So, fully spring-loaded to acquire a dual-sport, I walked into our local Suzuki/Honda/Yamaha shop just before Christmas (always a good, selfless place to look for gifts for the whole family) and what to my wondering eyes should appear but a leftover blue 2001 Suzuki DR650, marked down $700 in an end-of-season blowout sale. One of a handful of finalists I'd been considering.
Alas, the dealership also had a leftover DR-Z400S— another of my favourites— on sale at almost exactly the same price.
So here was a real quandary. On one hand, the DR-Z would be a much lighter (by thirty-three pounds) and nimbler dirt bike, but the DR650, with its big torquey motor, slightly wider seat— and lower seat height— might make a better blaster for the wide-open sections of Baja and the back roads of Wisconsin.
In the end, I came down on the side of the slightly better roadability of the 650. So, with Mrs. Claus' approval, I handed a bank check to my salesman friend Tym Williams just before closing time on Christmas Eve and trailered the bike home smack dab in the middle of the first real snowstorm of the season.
But a week later the snow melted, and our strange, on-again/off-again winter of 2002 continued. Since then, I've sneaked in three weekend rides on the DR. No dirt time yet (the turf is still frozen solid, and I want to get some DOT knobbies on the bike), but lots of miles on narrow, winding pavement strewn with loose sand and gravel. Lots of dead-end farm roads full of pot-holes and dirt. Places I would never explore on most streetbikes.
The DR works beautifully on these rough old rural roads, but what's more enlightening is how much I'm enjoying it on clean, normal pavement. Smooth, torquey, and fast, it cruises easily between seventy and eighty miles per hour and flicks through corners effortlessly. Amazing what light weight, narrowness, and wide handlebars will do for you.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p237-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 28, 2016, 08:14:18 AM
I have found that cars, unless they are old and funky (MG TC) or very high performance (Ferrari), or both (Cobra, E-Type Jag), tend to dull our memories of travel, while motorcycles amplify them and etch them clearly in our minds.
Some years ago, I wrote a column about overnight lodgings and noted that I had never forgotten a campsite nor clearly remembered a motel room. Exposure to weather nearly always sharpens our perceptions. Likewise, I can still remember the two years I spent in the army, almost minute by minute, because much of it was hard and challenging— and mostly outdoors. But the earlier years I spent in school have been largely reduced in my memory to a handful of highlights and low points.
Road travel is like that, too. What we call luxury is sometimes nothing more than the absence of sensation. Too much ease becomes a sort of opiate. Feels good, but you forget where you are. And where you've been.
Which is all a long-winded way of saying I'm glad Barb talked me out of taking the Buick. Next year, however, I might take the Aerostich suit and wire up my electric vest. In humans, unlike computers, there is such a thing as too much memory.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p262
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 29, 2016, 12:43:57 PM
He grew up in a well-to-do family in Mexico City, falling in love with motorcycles and American rock 'n' roll at an early age. An outstanding drummer right from the beginning, he worked with a series of nationally famous and well-paid Mexican rock bands, and immediately went out and bought himself a Triumph Bonneville after seeing Marlon Brando in The Wild One. He writes, "... Just as rock music had become an instant passion for me, I realized that motorcycling was going to be a part of my life forever. I was jazzed, I actually slept next to the bike for the first few nights."
Old Triumphs, however, did not remain a part of his life forever. The Bonneville— his only transportation— broke down so often he frequently missed gigs, and it also affected his love life: "My dates often ended with angry, oil-splattered girls snarling at me by the roadside."
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p287-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 30, 2016, 08:37:57 AM
Last spring, I was diagnosed with Hepatitis C, an unpleasant little virus whose eradication requires six months of injections and pills that make you too queasy and tired to do much but lie on the sofa and stare at the ceiling.  As of this writing, I have five weeks of this delightful treatment left and, though the prognosis is good, the past summer was an almost total write-off for motorcycling. I was simply too tired and dizzy to ride most of the time. I took a few short rides into town, but didn't have the stamina to go very far.
If you look carefully at the sofa where I spent the summer, however, you will note that it is surrounded by stacks of motorcycle magazines, sales brochures, U.S. road atlases, and maps of Europe, England, and Mexico.
Somewhere in the pile is a book about the Isle of Man...  I may not have ridden much this summer— a few hundred miles total, on the handful of days when I felt okay— but I have lived what is possibly the richest imaginary motorcycle life since my days in Vietnam. Never have I had so many plans.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p298
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 31, 2016, 09:38:33 AM
I cruised over to one of our two local Honda shops last weekend to take a look at a used red 2001 Honda VFR800 they have for sale. It's very clean, with about 8,500 miles on the clock.
I must admit to a weakness for this generation VFR, even though I've steered away from four-cylinder bikes in recent years, generally preferring the torque and personality of twins. But there is something in the sizzle and snap of that Honda V-four I find quite soulful.
Nevertheless, I'm still at the mulling and pondering phase, looking around at other bikes as well. It's a long winter, and what else have we got to do here in Wisconsin? If you think of anything else, besides drinking Guinness and watching the V-Four Victory Isle of Man video, send me a card.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p302
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 01, 2016, 09:25:06 AM
Anyway, as I drove home from the dealership, it dawned on me that I had checked the VFR's digital odometer, duly noted the mileage, and dismissed that 8,500 miles as a piffling trifle, hardly worth the mention.
Eighty-five hundred miles a trifle? That's almost three full transcontinental crossings of the United States.
Yet the VFR is only about halfway to its first valve adjust. The O-ringed chain is still fine, and the bike looks clean enough to put back on the showroom floor
as a new leftover. It's had one set of new tires, four oil changes, and that's its total service history.
As a guy who cut his teeth (and often his hands) on the bikes of the early 1960s, I find this sort of durability to be one of the biggest changes seen in
motorcycling during my interminable, yet fleeting lifetime. Motorcycle engines have gotten so good now, we almost think of them as sealed units. We still change oil and adjust valves once in a while, but very few people feel compelled to buy a complete shop manual with a new street-bike any more. Imminent replacement of crank bearings or valve guides is not really in the picture.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p302-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 02, 2016, 10:17:57 AM
I have done restorations on two Triumph twins and one Ducati single from the 1960s, all of them (curiously) with almost exactly 12,000 miles showing, and they all needed serious engine work. Both Triumphs had worn-out valve guides, valves, pistons, rings, rod bearings, primary chains, sprockets, and clutch baskets at that mileage. The Ducati had not been as hard on its own internals as the Triumphs, but it still needed cylinder-head work, and it had more electrical glitches than the Baghdad telephone exchange.
The point here is, all of them were disassembled and laid out on my workbench before they'd reached 13,000 miles. Or 3,000 miles before that modern VFR needs its first valve check. Japanese bikes, particularly Hondas, were the force of change that raised everybody's expectations. They were oil-tight, civilized, easy to live with, and fast for their displacement. Critics (including me) pointed out that they were disposable consumer goods, generally not worth rebuilding once you wore them out, but you still got about three Triumph, Ducati, or Harley engine-rebuild lifetimes out of them before they had to be tossed. In the meantime, you had a lot of fun riding around and stayed out of the garage.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p303
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 03, 2016, 09:10:22 AM
That rugged, air-cooled appeal also holds true for another bike I think is an unsung budget classic, the Suzuki DR650— which, like the XR400, has been with us since 1996. It's on about the same adventure-tourer/fire road wavelength as the KLR650, but is a little more dirt-oriented and not quite as posh on the highway. It also has a smaller gas tank and doesn't come with a luggage rack, but it has a higher level of fit and finish than the KLR and is a bit more agile. Also, the motor is wonderful, torquey yet willing to rev, and has a nice snap to it.
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p309-10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 04, 2016, 09:12:24 AM
There are no self-service gas stations at this point; the only people who pump their own fuel are employees or owners of service stations. I'm nineteen years old and have never operated a gas pump. Bob would be offended if I tried, and it would be taken as a rude demonstration of impatience, like going behind the counter to bag your own popcorn at a movie theatre. It just isn't done.
I remove the gas cap and Bob carefully tips the nozzle into the Honda tank. "All done with college for the year?" he asks, and in the time it takes to say that, the tank is full. Bob peers into the tank and back at the pump and looks baffled. The bike has taken a tick over .7 of a gallon, and the pump says I owe twenty-three cents.
"When did you fill this up last?" he asks.
"Yesterday afternoon, in Madison."
"You really went ninety miles on twenty-three cents worth of gas?"
"I guess I did," I reply, feeling somewhat guilty for making Bob come out of the station to pump so little fuel.
"That's well over a hundred miles per gallon," he says. "More like one-twenty something..."
"Yeah, I guess that's right," I say, nodding in solemn commiseration. I take two dimes and three pennies out of my blue jeans pocket and hand them to Bob. It doesn't feel like a fair exchange for two hours of carefree motoring on a beautiful spring morning.
Bob hefts these tiny, almost weightless coins in the palm of his hand and looks at the Honda. "Well," he says, "I hope they don't make too many more of those things."
Leanings 2  Peter Egan p312
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 05, 2016, 12:44:49 PM
Some speed then, not a lot, and the bike unstable because of design and the short bars, but some speed, and when the mufflers came off and the exhaust was cut and tuned, more speed. No helmet then— nobody wore them— and there was some carnage but it was in some strange way acceptable. Jimmy Tort died when he flipped after hitting gravel, crushed his head like an egg. That's how they always said it, how we always said it: "Crushed his head like an egg." He wasn't wearing a helmet. Carl Kantine died when he leaned too far and snagged a foot peg, crushed his head like an egg.
Good way to die, we said, and, insanely, meant it.
Zero To Sixty  Gary Paulson p13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 06, 2016, 08:08:34 AM
I felt strange but in some way whole. It was like an extension of my body, and I cradled down in blue steel and leather and chrome and sat that way for a time, perhaps a full minute, and let the bike become part of me. I know how that sounds but it was true. I would meet hundreds of men and four women who owned Harleys and they all said the same— that the bike became an extension, took them, held them.
This is one hell of a long way, I thought, from clothespinning playing cards on the fork of a bicycle to get the sound of a motor when the spokes clipped them, but it had all started then. The track from that first rattling-slap noise in the spokes led inevitably to here, to me sitting on this Harley, sure and straight as any law in physics.
I turned the key, reached down and pulled the choke out to half a click, made sure the bike was in neutral, took a breath and let it half out, like shooting an M1 on the range. Then I touched the starter button with my thumb.
Zero To Sixty  Gary Paulson p34
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 07, 2016, 09:32:31 AM
Larry was a newly retired sergeant from the air force and had purchased a Harley when I had. We had met at the dealer's and knew each other slightly, but when I told him I was going to make a run to Alaska he nodded and said in a soft-spoken Georgia drawl, "I'd like to go with you."
To the last minute I was not certain he would be going. Many bikers looked wistful and swore they would be coming when I told them about the run but for one reason or another they couldn't or wouldn't make it and I thought for a time Larry might prove to be that way. He came down the driveway and turned around and I started my motor and we headed north with about as much fanfare as if we were going to the corner gas station.
Zero To Sixty  Gary Paulson p41
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on June 07, 2016, 12:13:12 PM
 :thumbs

That about sums up the way that my mate Jeff and I started our almost 4 year tour of Australia in the early 70's
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 08, 2016, 05:24:48 PM
So I stayed with my faulty carburettor until Dawson Creek, the official start of the Alaska Highway, where I saw actual gas dripping out of it through the air cleaner and decided I had to try to fix it. I thought it would take hours but there was an adjustment screw that looked promising so I tweaked it and ran the motor a bit and the leak stopped and never came back.
Apparently, I thought at the time, the American mechanical ability was indeed inherited.
Zero To Sixty  Gary Paulson p134
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 09, 2016, 08:58:19 AM
But many of them constituted a danger because of their inability to drive and control their rigs or to pay attention to what they were about. There were many motorcycles on the highway— mostly Honda Gold Wings, some BMWs, and (if I remember correctly) just two other Harleys— and I saw a young man on a BMW start to pass a motor home when, for absolutely no reason at all, the motor home left its lane, pulled out in front of him, and forced the bike off the road. The motorcycle left the shoulder like a gazelle— the rider somehow holding the front end of the bike up while flipping the bird to the driver of the motor home (who of course did not see it)— to crash twenty feet down in a rocky ditch, bounce twice, and then, spouting dirt and stones, to come roaring up out of the ditch without ever laying the bike down. It was as masterful a bit of driving as I have ever seen, but he was shaken and rightly so. In another two hundred yards there was no ditch but a three or four hundred foot vertical drop and he most certainly would have been killed.
Zero To Sixty  Gary Paulson p144
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 10, 2016, 09:32:15 AM
Then too there is the fact that in a tight turn the bike is leaned well over and the wheels lose traction and if you accelerate out of the turn you lose more traction still and if there is dust or dirt or loose gravel or moisture or oil in the turn still more traction is lost and if a gust of wind hits you right then when the traction is low and you have slowed and lost the gyro action and God is not on your side and you look up to see a motor home coming at you...
Well, you get the picture. Everything that once was simple becomes very complicated very fast and that is essentially what happened to me.
Zero To Sixty  Gary Paulson p166
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 11, 2016, 07:51:19 AM
There was a long straightaway and the rain had let up a bit. In front of me a couple of hundred yards there was— of course— a motor home. I checked my mirror and saw Larry back there, no other traffic coming, so I cracked the handgrip and took her up to seventy-five to whip around the motor home and back in. A straight pass, clean, no traffic.
Sometime during the winter when they were plowing the road the grader had left the corner of the blade down too much and gouged the road surface in a two-inch deep groove that started at the centre line and moved out to the shoulder on the left side of the road (as I faced it), which was made up of soft wet dirt and thick mud.
I hit this groove just as I caught seventy-five and started around the motor home and the wheels dropped into it like they had found a home. I decelerated instantly but the groove took me away from the highway and toward the muddy shoulder and a twenty-foot drop so fast, so completely instantly that I didn't even have time for fear. One part of a second I was there, the next I had no control of the bike and was heading off to the side at over seventy miles an hour.
Zero To Sixty  Gary Paulson p167
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 12, 2016, 05:53:25 PM
The groove paid out about one inch— no more than that— from the edge of the asphalt and the bike ran there, hung there, teetered there, while I looked down in growing horror for what seemed like miles. I was caught in one of those off-balance things where you can't move the way you need to move because it will make the bike turn the wrong way and I could do nothing but stare down at the front wheel, still spinning at seventy a bare inch from the mud and then it moved, just a hair closer and I shifted my weight and tipped it away and it came out and I passed the motor home and could not stop shaking, thinking of it, for miles; could see nothing but the mud and my tire. It is in this way that people die, I thought. They are perfectly sober and there is good visibility and the road is dry and the bike is in good shape and nothing can go wrong and they splatter themselves all over the landscape.
Zero To Sixty  Gary Paulson p167-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Sicman on June 12, 2016, 06:01:13 PM
Ur late today Biggles -  :think1 I was getting worried  :nahnah
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 12, 2016, 06:08:13 PM
Ur late today Biggles -  :think1 I was getting worried  :nahnah

Missus Biggles' birthday lunch went overtime. 
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Sicman on June 12, 2016, 08:58:44 PM
Fair enough excuse  ;-*
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on June 12, 2016, 09:08:51 PM
In that case you're forgiven.   :wink1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on June 13, 2016, 01:31:33 AM
A late post, but... Happy Birthday to Mrs Biggles. :Cake2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 13, 2016, 09:37:07 AM
A late post, but... Happy Birthday to Mrs Biggles. :Cake2

I made sure of that.     :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 13, 2016, 09:39:14 AM
Moto Diez is five kilometres from the city centre on a six-lane highway. I am nervous. I mount the Honda and practise turns in the car park. Mechanics watch. They wonder why I don't ride out onto the road. Fear stops me from riding out onto the road: fear of falling off, fear of panic, fear of being hit by a truck. And there is a further and greater and growing fear- the fear that the mechanics will suspect me of cowardice.
This is the fear that forces me to the car park slipway. Trucks and buses thunder through a fog of blue exhaust fumes. I edge out gingerly onto the highway and stall the motor. I remain astride the bike, kick the starter and almost overbalance. The mechanics have come out of the yard to watch. My palms are slippery and sweat stings my eyes. I dismount at the kerb, find neutral and kick the starter again. The engine fires. I mount, open the throttle and engage bottom gear. The bike bucks. I close the throttle. The engine stalls. I long to hide my face in my arms and weep. A small crowd has collected. My ears burn with shame. I dismount again, kick the starter and ease forward along the kerb. I keep in bottom gear for the first hundred metres and then move into second. I am still in second when the bike stops. I have ridden 300 metres.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p16
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 14, 2016, 09:35:29 AM
Up the last few hundred metres, and then over the brow and halt at a cafe on the right side of the road. My legs tremble as I dismount. The driver and passengers from the bus gather round. One of them asks, "Hey, grandfather, how old are you?"
I tell him and another asks where I am going.
"Argentina," I say. "Patagonia, Tierra del Fuego..." For the first time, I truly believe that I can make it.
The woman of the cafe brings coffee and sets a chair against the wall in the sun. I sit and absorb the warmth while the bus passengers ask questions as to my true intention and where I come from and does my wife approve of my absence and how many children do I have and what do they think of my travels? I answer with what has become my standard reply: "What should I do with the last years of my life? Sit in front of the TV?"
They all agree. "It is a good thing to travel, to meet different people."   
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p34
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 15, 2016, 08:35:20 AM
So my bum is numb - this is a countryman's visual heaven.
I pause for cold water and a packet of nuts at a tiny roadside shack with two white tables and six chairs. A man in uniform is the only customer. The earth crumbles beneath the Honda's stand and the bike turns sideways. The man in uniform attempts to save the bike and burns his palm on the exhaust. He holds ice in his hand and boasts of the beauty of Chiapas and enquires of my journey and what I will write of Mexico.
The owner of the shack and her daughter listen, as does an old white man with pale blue eyes and a grey bristle-beard who has shuffled across the highway from a five-hut village.
"That Mexico is an immensely rich and beautiful country with many poor people," I answer.
My listeners murmur their assent. Despite my protests, the man in uniform and with the painfully burnt hand insists on paying for my water and the packet of nuts. Mexican generosity is inescapable.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p61
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 16, 2016, 09:20:23 AM
I recall Ibiza in the sixties.
I recall riding my red Bultaco Matador 350 trial bike.
I picture myself as I pictured myself then: chest thrust out as I gripped the wide-spread controls, white canvas trousers over Frye boots, grandad T-shirt, sun-bleached locks in a coronet of Moroccan beads. Wow, was I something. Every girl's dream (in my dreams).
So what has changed? Nothing, I decide, and kick the Honda alive. The track is hard dirt for the first fifty metres. It turns uphill. The front wheel slides into a deep rut. My ancient legs don't have sufficient strength to hold the bike upright. I sprawl with my left leg trapped under the bike and my right calf on the exhaust. In struggling free, I kneel on the exhaust. As Monica, Eugenio's young and intelligent wife, remarks as she drives me to the pharmacy: "Hey Simon, remember- you are an old man. You need to be careful. And you should never wear shorts on a bike."
Careful and I wouldn't be attempting this dumb ride to Tierra del Fuego.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p76
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 17, 2016, 10:57:00 AM
The highway twists down through the mountains towards the Caribbean. Roadwork backs up the traffic for a couple of kilometres. I creep past the queue. A worker holding a red flag asks where I am going. I tell him. He waves me through and tells me, "Good luck, old man, and take care."
So many people have wished me luck, people imprisoned by lives of constant struggle, people who have never sampled liberty of choice in what they do: La lucha, la lucha. Along comes a fat old man on a small bike and they dream for a moment. If the old man can, then maybe, maybe some day, just maybe ... and I, as I ride on, am immensely grateful and proud - proud that I am, if only for a moment, part of a dream. Failure would be to betray all those well-wishers.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p141
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 19, 2016, 02:06:15 PM
The traffic lights show red. I wait astride the Honda and cringe as the planks lift and clatter beneath approaching trucks. My spectacles fog and my nose drips.
The lights change to green. An impatient driver honks his klaxon. Walking the bike would delay him - and he would suppose me a coward. I ride twenty yards before the front tyre slips in a gap between two planks. Desperate to save the Honda, I tip inwards across the rails and sprawl beneath the bike. I look down between the railway sleepers at muddy foam. Drivers pound down the track and heave the Honda off my leg. They warn me that the bridge is dangerous - as if I require warning. They lift me on to my feet and the bike onto the back of a truck. I sit up front in the truck with a young driver.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p146
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 20, 2016, 08:43:29 AM
The highway from Bucaramanga follows a green river valley a short way before hitting mountains. The Honda and I are well rested. We face only 300 kilometres to Villa de Leiva. No reason to hurry and I am at one with the bike as we swoop into the curves. We climb and climb. These are dry mountains. Even the air feels brittle.
Brilliant sun sparkles on rock. Views are astounding.
A statue to the Virgin Mary blesses the inside of a curve near the head of the ascent. Headlamps rather than flowers are the offerings. Some of the lamps are connected to a power supply. At night, the statue must be a beacon.
I stop at a cafe at the summit of the pass and ask the woman serving behind the bar why headlamps for the Virgin? Surely this a special cult, a celebration of some extraordinary occurrence, a miracle, a vision?
"Lightbulbs last longer than candles," she tells me.
Travelling brings such wondrous surprises.
The woman asks where I have come from and where I am going and refuses payment for my coffee.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p209
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 23, 2016, 03:16:00 PM
I funk Bogota. I am not in the mood for big cities. The traffic terrifies me. The young driver of a new blue CM Corsa draws alongside to ask where I am going and wish me good luck. So do two cops on a big police bike. Try riding a small Honda through Bogota traffic while sandwiched into a three-way conversation. I yell to the cops that I am trying to find the Pan-Americano. The cops activate their flashing blue light. The cop riding pillion beckons me to follow. The police hurtle across an intersection. My memory of the following ten minutes is blank. I suspect that I rode with my eyes shut.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  pp214-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 24, 2016, 10:58:37 AM
The valley narrows to a gorge and up we go again, up and down weaving through mountains scoured of soil and crumpled in a giant's hand, hairpin after hairpin tracing the sharp folds. I cross a terrifying bridge from which I dare not look down, and then up again on the last long climb. The bike rides oddly. My gut tightens. I ease into the concrete ditch on the side of the road. The rear wheel is punctured. Damn, damn, damn.
On the way up, I had noticed a farm on the left-hand side. I ride back slowly, stop at the gate and walk down a concrete ramp to the farmhouse. The farmer meets me at the door, a square, well-muscled man in his forties - a child's plastic wheelie toy out in the yard, no sign of a wife. Sure, he tells me, of course I can park the bike back of the house. I need anything? A drink? Any help?
"I'm fine," I reply, although I am nervous. I last took a wheel off a bike somewhere back in the early sixties. I tell myself that mechanics is logic. I lay out the tools and set to work. No problems. The farmer tells me to leave my kit in the house, drives me to the last town to have the tube repaired and insists on waiting, and then drives me back.
Thank you, farmer.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p220
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 25, 2016, 03:05:42 PM
Today I discover bliss cruising the fells of southern Ecuador at eighty kilometres an hour on a 125 Honda pizza delivery bike. We are 11,000 feet above sea level on a broad ridge that stretches for forty kilometres. The sky is a patchwork of dark and white and brilliant blue. A stiff breeze chases shadow and sunlight across the road and through the tufted grass and scrub and down the valleys either side. The road dips and rises and curves and the view is forever in all directions. We meet a convoy of gravel trucks. The drivers see this old bearded foreign man on a small, heavily burdened bike and they wave out the window and honk and flash their lights. That friendship of the road does for me. I weep with happiness - real tears.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p239
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 26, 2016, 12:26:06 PM
Honda HardCorp on Avenida Nicolas de Pierola services the bike. The mechanic wears slacks and polished shoes and a clean short-sleeved shirt - sufficient cause for suspicion. So I watch. I watch keenly. He completes every job by the book. He changes the oil, adjusts the valves, changes the plug, adjusts the points, greases this, oils that, on and on for three hours. He works while squatting on his polished heels and without getting a single drop of oil on his clothes or on the floor.
He dismounts the rear wheel, has a fresh tyre and tube fitted, remounts the wheel and remains clean. I mount the wheel and I have to sit in the dirt and balance the wheel between my feet. My hands get covered in oil and dirt. So do my trousers and my shirt. And I habitually wipe the sweat from my brow on the back of my hand.
New rear tyre, tube and a spare tube, new plug, oil change and a full 3000 kilometre service sets me back fifty-six dollars. Back home I would pay fifty-six dollars to have a bike mechanic sneer.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p254
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 27, 2016, 01:07:16 PM
Argentina excels in road signs. SINUADO is my favourite. Sad that they don't include SENSUADO. Any biker would know the meaning: sweeping curves, smooth dips, curving climbs, perfect camber, views to die for. Today's menu features rivers and lakes, dark, forbidding moors, pine forests and finally the snowfields. A familiar face observes me from the far side of a fence. He is a young chap, not fully grown, red coat, white nose. I pull into the curb, dig out the camera and approach through coarse grass.
"Where are you from?" he asks.
"Colwall." I reply.
"In Herefordshire? That's close to Ledbury."
"Four miles," I say.
"I believe that's where my great-great-grandfather came from," he tells me.
"Very probably," I say and take his photograph. He is embarrassed at having spent so much time with an old fogey. Off he trots to join the rest of the herd.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p300
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 28, 2016, 09:05:04 AM
Pine forests end at the snow line. Rain closes in. The road climbs. Rain turns to sleet. My feet are soaked, toes and fingers numb. Sun finds a cleft in the clouds. The peaks glisten while I remain in semi-dark. My cheeks suffer a bombardment of ice crystals. I raise the speed by ten kilometres an hour to intensify the pain. I must be crazy. I even stop to photograph the peaks. I kneel beside the road and steady the camera on the crash rail. There, on my knees, illumination strikes. Bike size is of no account. Nor is speed. Age is immaterial. This is the test. The pass mark is having fun. Enjoy yourself under these conditions and you may wear the label proudly: BIKER.
Or lunatic.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  pp300-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 29, 2016, 08:23:26 AM
My dismounting technique is ungainly - more a semi-fall sideways. I hobble to the lavatory and fumble deep within all the folds of clothing for something to pee with. I sip black coffee in the gas station cafeteria, munch a sandwich, chat with whoever asks where I come from. These are the moments that make the trip worthwhile: so many different people, all content to share with me a little of themselves.
I fill the tank. Backpack, helmet, glasses, gloves: Brrrrmmmm.
Ahead lie a further 150 kilometres.
Is it fun?
In truth?
Fun is the wrong word.
Challenge comes closer. In my seventies, can I ride 22,000 kilometres on a small bike the length of Hispanic America? The start of each day is hardest. I wake and lie in bed and contemplate the distance ahead. One more night in a strange bed. Broken sleep. Every part of me aches - back, knees, ankles. I want to give up. I fumble for spectacles and the lamp switch. Check the ACA route guide. Tomorrow I will be on the final page. Get up, you old fool. Take a hot shower.
Old Man On A Bike  Simon Gandolfi  p310
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 30, 2016, 09:14:39 AM
He stopped - he had to - and as he manoeuvred his bike to the side of the road and took off his helmet, we were already firing questions at him. He answered in English heavily accented with German. Yes, he confirmed, he was indeed on a world tour by bike. Yes, he would be happy to accept a coffee and answer our questions.
Dinner and a bed for the night? Why yes, he would be delighted.
Ulbrecht proved a mine of information. We ended up giving him a key to our house - something to do with the community of bikers everywhere. We'd been at the receiving end of the same fellow-feeling in the past, and had no hesitation extending it now.
A little later we had a call from Dave in Tauranga.
"You'll never guess who I've just run into'" he said. It was true: we would never have guessed it. Like us, he had leapt into the path of a grizzled-looking motorcyclist tootling along in Tauranga only to discover that he was none other than the proprietor of the motel where we were considering staying in Naryn, in Kyrgystan. Crazy stuff, but once you're in the planning stages of something like this, these little synchronicities just seem to come along.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 01, 2016, 09:06:29 AM
What's more, if a rider or machine is taken out, everyone is held up while repairs are made so that the trip can continue. Unlike a normal tour, you can't just call up the local dealer to fix the bike, or send the rider to the nearest hospital and continue on. So the more quickly support from other team members gets there, the more quickly the trip can resume.
For these reasons, an expedition ride really only works if each member takes responsibility for the one behind them, making sure they are continually in touch with that rider. The rider in front of you is pretty much irrelevant, so long as they're upright; it's the one behind that matters. This way, when a bike stops with a problem, before long all bikes have regrouped at that spot and the full skill-set of the group is at hand to solve the problem.
All it takes for the team to be compromised is for a single rider to ignore that simple rule, and cruise along looking out only for number one. Others may try to compensate, but this approach is a distant second-best. Long delays and huge double-backs to trouble spots will inevitably ensue.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  p30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 02, 2016, 03:18:46 PM
From Melbourne, we made our way south via the lovely, mellow country of Victoria and South Australia, collecting a speeding ticket and some useful route advice on the way from a couple of undercover policemen dressed as surfies who clocked Gareth and MoD being naughty on the smooth straights and beautifully cambered curves of the Great Ocean Highway. The adventure proper began at Port Augusta, about six hours north of Adelaide, from which they started the infamous Birdsville Track, which heads due north towards the former nuclear facility at Woomera. The land quickly grew more desolate with the temperature sitting around 35 degrees Celsius. At Lyndhurst the rough asphalt gave way to red dirt. That was the last we'd see of sealed roads for 3000 km.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  p34
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 03, 2016, 10:04:10 PM
They would overtake anywhere, and if there was a sniff of a gap in our line - we were riding in Indian file - they would cut into it. Before long, we'd be scattered through miles of speeding traffic, none of us having any idea where everyone else was or where we were going. On our stops, we talked about riding in close formation a fair bit. Brendan thought it was just something we had to put up with; he reckoned having everyone fend for themselves was less dangerous than riding in close formation. He had a point, but sometimes when we were having an argument about it, there were only four or five of us present. If we were going to stick together, as we must for safety reasons and for the sake of making decent progress, something clearly had to be done. Eventually, even Brendan agreed.
Our countermeasure was something we christened "the Silk Rider Wedgie", in which we'd form up into a triangle, a lead bike at the apex, two behind to either side with their front axles level with the lead bike's rear sprocket, and three abreast bringing up the rear. This way, we were a compact unit and collectively as wide as a car, and had to be treated more or less like a car by overtaking traffic. It worked a treat. People chafed behind us, leaned on their horns or tried to get amongst us, but we just ignored all that and sailed serenely on.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  p51
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 04, 2016, 06:06:45 PM
Bulgaria enjoyed a far smoother transition from communism than its miserable Balkan neighbours, and is a full member of the European Union. Our first
impression was that the general population enjoys a far higher standard of living than the countries to its immediate west. It has the EU membership card -
the fancy, EU-funded autobahn reaching practically right across the country - but no one warned about one peculiarly Bulgarian road hazard haunting this
stretch of superhighway. Gareth, who was leading, passed an intersection with a country road and was confronted by the sight of a young woman standing at the roadside wearing little more than a miniskirt and professional smile. It was the middle of nowhere. It was all too much for a boy from Putaruru. He
experienced his first severe case of tank-slap (the biker's term for the wobbles which accompany losing control through over-vigorous application of the
brakes, which causes bike to fishtail wildly, the handgrips slapping back and forth against the tank) of the trip. He rode on, wondering whether he'd really
seen what he thought he'd seen. A few kilometres down the track, and here was a pair of similarly underdressed women.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  p64
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 05, 2016, 11:50:13 AM
From here, we followed a narrow, winding road which had been converted by weeks of rain to a kind of sluggishly flowing river of mud. We slithered and slid our way along, feeling pretty vulnerable for the most part. We were already tired by the time we reached the outskirts of Istanbul, and prepared to take on what had been rumored to be some of the worst traffic in the world. This, of course, entailed forming the Silk Rider Wedgie again and toughing it out. We were beginning to learn that it was to our advantage to put Jo in front, because she was the one who caused the most pandemonium as Middle Eastern drivers just stopped and stared at her, no matter what the prevailing road or traffic conditions, or started gesticulating wildly to get the attention of the first woman they'd ever seen on a motorbike.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  p71
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 07, 2016, 07:48:14 PM
As we travelled east through Turkey, Gareth was becoming concerned about the performance of his bike. It had not escaped his attention - nor, to his discomfort, had it escaped everyone else's, for we gave arseholes - that he was going through petrol at a far higher rate anyone else. There must be a fuel mixture problem, he thought, or something of that nature going on. He and Bryan discussed it. Bryan suggested they eliminate the possible causes one by one, starting with the easiest: the rider. They swapped bikes. When they compared consumption at the next fuel stop, it was clear that the fuel economy of Bryan's bike had collapsed underneath Gareth, whereas his bike was doing as well as Bryan's did under Bryan. The cause of the excessive fuel consumption was clear: Gareth's penchant for engine-braking and for impetuously wrenching the throttle open out of corners.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  p72
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 08, 2016, 09:54:44 AM
They were still dark about it as they rode into the pretty town of Balykchy on the shores of the lake. Perhaps spleen affected their vision, because they both rode through a red traffic light. There was no traffic, so they survived what could have been a fatal mistake on another road in any other part of the world. But as Murphy's Law would have it, they did it right in front of a bored Kyrgyz traffic cop. They'd gone no more than 100 metres when a large, white, Russian-made car overtook them with siren blaring. They pulled over obediently, and the uniformed officer of the unmarked car demanded to see all their documents - passports, bike registration papers and international driver's licences (the first time any of us were asked to produce these). Unlike the toll collector, the cop spoke enough English to deliver a lecture to the pair as they sat, chastened, in the back of his car, then demanded they hand over an instant fine of US$50. They expressed alarm and dismay at the amount and, between them, settled on US$10 each. The officer tut-tutted and shook his head, but took the money and drove off at a suspiciously jubilant clip. The miscreants were free to go.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  pp133-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 09, 2016, 09:11:45 AM
Seconds later, however, an even more menacing-looking funnel appeared to his left, apparently lining him right up. He had to make a quick decision: stop the bike and risk being blown, bike and all, off the road and down the steep bank to the side, or accelerate and get bike stable enough to take a very strong side-blast of wind, rain and sand?
Bryan chose the latter, moving to the centre of the road just in time to be engulfed by the tornado. He realised quickly that he had badly underestimated the ferocity of the winds. He later reckoned the wind-speed to be well over 80 km/h, and he's probably right; the wind-speeds in the least powerful of American tornadoes routinely reach almost twice that. The visibility was suddenly nil. It was all he could do to make out his front wheel. His track veered to the right and he found himself at the edge of the road. With his full-face helmet full of wet sand and dust and his eyes stinging, he was, as he later put it, "in praying mode". He opened the throttle and steered to where he guessed the centre of the road to be and then, suddenly, he was out the other side of the maelstrom. He couldn't say afterwards how long he was in the twister, it could have been ten seconds, or even less. It felt like ten minutes.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  pp153-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 10, 2016, 12:28:19 PM
In one village, Dave found himself on the receiving end of the same kind of prurient attention. He's a big fella, Dave, even the Dave-Lite he'd become through routine Silk Road weight loss regimes. His stature intrigued the diminutive Chinese- women and men, and clearly set them to making wild anatomical extrapolations. At the village in question, Dave became aware of the calculating stares of a group of men who, when he looked at them enquiringly, began making fairly unambiguous gestures in their groin region and raising their eyebrows interrogatively. With a poker face, Dave held up his hands with the palms an improbable distance apart.
On the other side of the ethnological and linguistic divide, jaws dropped. Suddenly, their hands were full of cash. Plainly, they were having a whip-round so that they could see the mythological proportions of the Tauranga cocky's private member. We decided it was time to go, for whatever Dave might try to tell you, here was a whole village full of people doomed to disappointment.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  p159
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 11, 2016, 12:49:52 PM
The worst aspect of covering this section of the trip, the southern fringe of the Gobi desert, was that we were forced to do it more or less off-road. There is a beautiful highway traversing the southern margin of the desert, but because our bikes were classed as "farm machinery", we were not entitled to use it. We were relegated instead to the network of gravel and sand tracks that run alongside it. So you'd be struggling along on bumpy, soft, treacherous surfaces, eating the dust of other vehicles, sharing it with everything from donkey-carts and bicycles to farm trucks and tractors, and livestock ranging from pigs and cattle to people, while the superhighway right alongside you, close enough for you to touch the safety barrier, was empty apart from the occasional passing truck. It caused a few foul-ups in our riding order. You'd come across a line of traffic, and perhaps the lead bike would go along the outside while some or all of the following bikes would go along the inside. By the time you all missed one another, there was no way of knowing who was ahead or who was behind. Tempers flared somewhat in the heat. We had several goes at getting our bikes onto the highway, but we were waved off again by officials every time.
Silk Riders  Jo and Gareth Morgan  pp161-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 12, 2016, 09:34:41 AM
I hung round the Signal Office, nervous and excited, for "a run". The night was alive with the tramp of troops and the rumble of guns. The old 108th passed by- huge good-natured guns, each drawn by eight gigantic plough-horses. I wonder if you can understand the thrilling excitement of waiting and listening by night in a town full of troops.
At midnight I took my first despatch. It was a dark, starless night; very misty on the road. From the brigade I was sent on to an ambulance- an unpleasant ride, because, apart from the mist and the darkness, I was stopped every few yards by sentries of the West Kents, a regiment which has now about the best reputation of any battalion out here. I returned in time to snatch a couple of hours of sleep before we started at dawn for Belgium.
When the Division moves we ride either with the column or advance to the halting-place. That morning we rode with the column, which meant riding three-quarters of a mile or so and then waiting for the main-guard to come up, an extraordinarily tiring method of getting along.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson p28
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 13, 2016, 09:03:37 AM
About ten o'clock on the morning of August 23rd I was sent out to find General Gleichen, who was reported somewhere near Waasmes. I went over nightmare roads, uneven cobbles with great pits in them. I found him, and was told by him to tell the General that the position was unfortunate owing to a weak salient. We had already heard guns, but on my way back I heard a distant crash, and looked round to find that a shell had burst half a mile away on a slag-heap, between Dour and myself. With my heart thumping against my ribs I opened the throttle, until I was jumping at 40 m.p.h. from cobble to cobble. Then, realising that I was in far greater danger of breaking my neck than of being shot, I pulled myself together and slowed down to proceed sedately home.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson pp32-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 14, 2016, 10:14:51 AM
I cut across country, running into some of our cavalry on the way. It was just light enough for me to see properly when my engine jibbed. I cleaned a choked petrol pipe, lit a briar- never have I tasted anything so good- and pressed on.
Very bitter I felt, and when nearing Saint Quentin, some French soldiers got in my way, I cursed them in French, then in German, and finally in good round English oaths for cowards, and I know not what. They looked very startled and recoiled into the ditch. I must have looked alarming- a gaunt, dirty, unshaven figure towering above my motorcycle, without hat, bespattered with mud, and eyes bright and weary for want of sleep. How I hated the French! I hated them because, as I then thought, they had deserted us at Mons and again at Le Cateau; I hated them because they had the privilege of seeing the British Army in confused retreat; I hated them because their roads were very nearly as bad as the roads of the Belgians. So, wet, miserable, and angry, I came into Saint Quentin just as the sun was beginning to shine a little.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson pp48-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 15, 2016, 09:24:42 AM
The Battle of the Aisne had begun.
We were wondering what to do when we were commandeered to take a message down that precipitous hill of Ciry to some cavalry. It was now quite dark and still raining. We had no carbide, and my carburetor had jibbed, so we decided to stop at Ciry for the night. At the inn we found many drinks- particularly some wonderful cherry brandy- and a friendly motorcyclist who told us of a billet that an officer was probably going to leave. We went there. Our host was an old soldier, so, after his wife had hung up what clothes we dared take off to dry by a red-hot stove, he gave us some supper of stewed game and red wine, then made us cunning beds with straw, pillows, and blankets. Too tired to thank him we dropped asleep.
That, though we did not know it then, was the last night of little Odyssey. We had been advancing or retiring without a break since my tragic farewell to Nadine. We had been riding all day and often all night. But those were heroic days, and now as I write this in our comfortable slack winter quarters, I must confess- I would give anything to have them all over again. Now we motorcyclists are middle-aged warriors. Adventures are work. Experiences are a routine. Then, let's be sentimental, we were young.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson p86
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 16, 2016, 07:08:23 AM
When D.H.Q. are stationary, the work of despatch riders is of two kinds. First of all you have to find the positions of the units to which you are sent. Often the Signal Office gives you the most exiguous information. "The 105th Brigade is somewhere near Ciry," or "The Div. Train is at a farm just off the Paris-Bordeaux road". Starting out with these explicit instructions, it is very necessary to remember that they may be wrong and are probably misleading. That is not the fault of the Signal Office. A Unit changes ground, say from a farm on the road to a farm off the road. These two farms are so near each other that there is no need to inform the Div just at present of this change of residence. The experienced despatch rider knows that, if he is told the 105th Brigade is at 1904 Farm, the Brigade is probably at 1894 Farm, half a mile away.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson pp92-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 17, 2016, 04:35:53 PM
The second kind of work consists in riding along a road already known. A clever despatch rider may reduce this to a fine art. He knows exactly at which corner he is likely to be sniped, and hurries accordingly. He remembers to a yard where the sentries are. If the road is under shell fire, he recalls where the shells usually fall, the interval between the shells and the times of shelling. For there is order in everything, and particularly in German gunnery. Lastly, he does not race along with nose on handle-bar. That is a trick practised only by despatch riders who are rarely under fire, who have come to a strange and alarming country from Corps or Army Headquarters. The experienced motorcyclist sits up and takes notice the whole time. He is able at the end of his ride to give an account of all that he has seen on the way.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson pp93-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 18, 2016, 01:30:32 PM
It was at La Bassee that we had our first experience of utterly unrideable roads. North of the canal the roads were fair macadam in dry weather and to the south the main road Bethune-Beuvry-Annequin was of the finest pave. Then it rained hard. First the roads became greasy beyond belief. Starting was perilous, and the slightest injudicious swerve meant a bad skid. Between Gorre and Festubert the road was vile. It went on raining, and the roads were thickly covered with glutinous mud. The front mud-guard of George's Douglas choked up with a lamentable frequency. The Blackburne alone, the finest and most even-running of all motorcycles, ran with unswerving regularity.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson p125
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 19, 2016, 10:17:39 AM
Three quarters of an hour later. Curious life this. Just after I had finished the last sentence, I was called out to take a message to a battery telling them to
shell a certain village. Here am I wandering out, taking orders for the complete destruction of a village and probably for the death of a couple of hundred men
without a thought, except that the roads are very greasy and that lunch time is near.
Again, yesterday, I put our Heavies in action, and in a quarter of an hour a fine old church, with what appeared from the distance a magnificent tower, was
nothing but a grotesque heap of ruins. The Germans were loopholing it for defence.
Oh the waste, the utter damnable waste of everything out here- men, horses,buildings, cars, everything. Those who talk about war being a salutary discipline are those who remain at home. In a modern war there is little room for picturesque gallantry or picture-book heroism. We are all either animals or machines, with little gained except our emotions dulled and brutalised and nightmare flashes of scenes that cannot be written about because they are unbelievable. I wonder what difference you will find in us when we come home.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson pp135-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 20, 2016, 09:11:32 AM
Then came two and a half miles of winding country lanes. They were covered with grease. Every corner was blind. A particularly sharp turn to the right and the despatch rider rode a couple of hundred yards in front of a battery in action that the Germans were trying to find. A "hairpin" corner round a house followed. This he would take with remarkable skill and alacrity, because at this corner he was always sniped. The German's rifle was trained a trifle high. Coming into the final straight one despatch rider rode for all he was worth. It was unpleasant to find new shell-holes just off the road each time you passed, or, as you came into the straight, to hear the shriek of shrapnel between you and the farm.
Huggie once arrived at the house of the "hairpin" bend simultaneously with a shell. The shell hit the house, the house did not hit Huggie, and the sniper forgot to snipe. So every one was pleased.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson p148
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 21, 2016, 10:37:39 AM
These unattached rides across country are the most joyous things in the world for a despatch rider. There is never any need to hurry. You can take any road you will. You may choose your tavern for lunch with expert care. And when new ground is covered and new troops are seen, we capture sometimes those sharp delightful moments of thirsting interest that made the Retreat into an epic and the Advance a triumphant ballad.
N'Soon and myself left together. We skidded along the tow-path, passed the ever-cheerful cyclists, and, turning due north, ran into St Venant. The grease made us despatch riders look as if we were beginning to learn. I rode gently but surely down the side of the road into the gutter time after time. Pulling ourselves together, we managed to slide past some Indian transport without being kicked by the mules, who, whenever they smelt petrol, developed a strong offensive. Then we came upon a big gun, discreetly covered by tarpaulins. It was drawn by a monster traction-engine, and sad-faced men walked beside it. The steering of the traction-engine was a trifle loose, so N'Soon and I drew off into a field to let this solemn procession pass.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson pp151-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 22, 2016, 08:54:46 AM
We despatch riders were given a large room in the house where the Divisional Staff was billeted. It had tables, chairs, a fireplace and gas that actually lit; so we were more comfortable than ever we had been before- that is, all except N'Soon, who had by this time discovered that continual riding on bad roads produces a fundamental soreness. N'Soon hung on nobly, but was at last sent away with blood-poisoning. Never getting home, he spent many weary months in peculiar convalescent camps, and did not join up again until the end of January. Moral- before going sick or getting wounded become an officer and a gentleman.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson pp155-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 23, 2016, 11:18:12 AM
More than a dozen "Varsity" men were thrown like Daniels into a den of mercenaries. We were awkwardly privileged persons- full corporals with a few days' service. Motorcycling gave superlative opportunities of freedom. Our duties were "flashy", and brought us into familiar contact with officers of rank. We were highly paid, and thought to have much money of our own. In short, we who were soldiers of no standing possessed the privileges that a professional soldier could win only after many years' hard work.
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson p197
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 24, 2016, 11:52:37 AM
I cannot pay them a more sufficient tribute than the tribute of the Commander-in-Chief: 
"Carrying despatches and messages at all hours of the day and night, in every kind of weather, and often traversing bad roads blocked with transport, they have been conspicuously successful in maintaining an extraordinary degree of efficiency in the service of communications. No amount of difficulty or danger has ever checked the energy and ardour which has distinguished their corps throughout the operations."
A Motorcycle Courier In The Great War  W. H. L. Watson p202
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 25, 2016, 09:23:12 AM
Hobbling next to Jonny, my body spent and exhausted, my hands stiff hooks that were seriously cramped from squeezing the handlebars of the motorcycle. My back and tailbone bellowed from sitting on the bike and my left shoulder was burning in what felt like raging flames. I had to pull in the clutch of the motorcycle with my left hand and each time I gripped it, pain shot from my fingers through my wrist, hand and arm, setting my left shoulder on fire. It was only our second day of motorcycle riding. We had ridden 300 miles the previous day and we'd just completed another 338 miles out of the more than 10,000 miles we had planned for our trip. But my mind couldn't compute such a large number. My body refused to compute it.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  p12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 26, 2016, 09:09:04 AM
I hadn't even considered that he'd want to sleep facing the door to guard us. The only time I'd stood guard during the night had been when my kids were babies. Most other nights, I crawled into bed and slept undisturbed while Jonny tossed and turned, running through battle zones, leaping from exploding buildings.
I turned in my sleeping bag like a caterpillar adjusting on a branch. I pushed away our clothes and bags and tools and jackets and boots and tried to get cozy on the knobby Canadian dirt. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, the light pitching like a tuning fork from black to faint gray. I looked around. With the tent's many different compartments in which to put accessories- flashlight, journal, pen, keys and water bottle- I felt like I was sleeping inside my favourite handbag.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 27, 2016, 09:39:47 AM
The first woman to ride a motorcycle across America was Effie Hotchkiss, twenty-six, of New York. The year was 1915; Hotchkiss was working on Wall Street, and the daily monotony propelled her to buy a Harley Davidson and aim for the West Coast. Hotchkiss' mother, Avis, didn't want her daughter travel on her own, so Hotchkiss attached a sidecar to her bike and invited her mother along for a a ride across the country.
The mother-daughter duo left New York in May, facing unpaved roads, rattlesnakes, and nights where there was no room at the inn because there was no inn. Instead, they slept in people's homes, where Avis sometimes taught women how to crochet in exchange for a place to crash. When Hotchkiss got a flat tire in New Mexico, she and her mother cut a blanket, rolled it, stuffed it into the tire and continued on their way.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  p63
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 28, 2016, 09:42:41 AM
"You sure you can't come with us? I asked.
"I'd love to," he replied, "but I gotta get back to work."
"Well, thank you for everything you taught me," I said. "You're like my guru."
"Why's that?"
"Because every nice Jewish girl should have a Puerto Rican motorcycle guru," I said. "You helped me believe in myself."
"You're going to be fine, kiddo," Paul said, grinning.
I had about 20 years on him and he was calling me kiddo. I guessed that was a guru's prerogative.
"Just remember to keep your chin up," he said.
"Gotcha," I said.
Then he mounted his motorcycle and turned left heading back to Long Island, and Jonny and I turned right, toward Alaska.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  p67
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 29, 2016, 09:48:49 AM
Above us, clouds were opening up like smashed pinatas, sending down torrents of rain. Cars and trucks whizzed by, their windshield wipers ticking as fast as my beating heart. Just after I pried my motorcycle from what felt like a 45-degree tilt, I watched a crack of wind send Jonny flying into the next lane, almost crashing into a truck.
Then the wind reversed. Instead of coming at us from the sides, it slammed into my face. The highway was a treadmill; we were riding and riding and going
nowhere. My speedometer slowed down to a trickle of less than forty miles per hour, and as much as I tried, the motorcycle didn't move any faster. I cracked the throttle again, trying to get Artemis to move, but it was like kicking a lame horse. In both of my rearview mirrors, I saw cars flying toward me- switching lanes at the last minute to dodge out of my way- and trucks passed, spraying me with water.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  pp88-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 30, 2016, 09:10:21 AM
Any confidence I'd gained while listening to Jonny's motorcycling spiel the night before vanished as I careened down a 6 to 10 percent grade incline- practically vertical. What I was supposed to do with my gears? Paul had told me to keep up my speed and downshift only to third, and then use my brakes. No, that wasn't it. He must have me told me to downshift to second and then use my throttle. What was the throttle again? Should I pull in the clutch with my left hand while I braked with my right hand? Or should I just brake with my right? Or with my right foot? I wasn't cold but I was shivering, almost hallucinating, gripped by a sort of hypothermia. I tried bringing myself back to my reality, in which I was losing control slipping down a mountain. I slammed down my left foot on the gear pedal, lighting up the 'N' on my dashboard. 'N', as neutral. 'N', as in no way are you going to get out of here alive.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  p133
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 31, 2016, 11:50:24 AM
"'Just when you think you are the only motorcyclist for miles and miles, as soon as you're stranded on the side of the road, another motorcyclist appears,' Isn't that what Paul said and look!" My heart soared as a motorcycle suddenly materialised. My heart sank as he zoomed by us, barreling up the mountain pass.
"That mud made a groove right through my rear tire," Jonny said. "The tread is shot." He stared at his tire while I stared at the highway. I prayed, hoping to
conjure up a motorcyclist, to make one appear like a rabbit out of a hat, when that same motorcyclist who'd passed moments before came zooming back down the mountain.
"Can I help you with something?" he asked, climbing off his bike next to us the way an officer in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police might have dismounted his horse to help a damsel in distress.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  p148
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Shiney on July 31, 2016, 09:49:18 PM
"'Just when you think you are the only motorcyclist for miles and miles, as soon as you're stranded on the side of the road, another motorcyclist appears,' Isn't that what Paul said and look!" My heart soared as a motorcycle suddenly materialised. My heart sank as he zoomed by us, barreling up the mountain pass.
"That mud made a groove right through my rear tire," Jonny said. "The tread is shot." He stared at his tire while I stared at the highway. I prayed, hoping to
conjure up a motorcyclist, to make one appear like a rabbit out of a hat, when that same motorcyclist who'd passed moments before came zooming back down the mountain.
"Can I help you with something?" he asked, climbing off his bike next to us the way an officer in the Royal Canadian Mounted Police might have dismounted his horse to help a damsel in distress.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  p148

I love how bike riders the world over act like this :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 01, 2016, 09:30:44 AM
After dinner, I craved ice cream. We walked the streets but the stores in Yukon's capital were already closed and sunk in shadows. Suddenly a middle-aged man with wire-rimmed glasses appeared, pedalling toward us on a red and yellow bicycle with an ice cream cart attached to it. He had a large green frog pinned to his pink jacket. He wore blue Crocs and a blue apron decorated with red and yellow flowers.
"How did you know I wanted ice cream?" I asked him.
"Because I knew," he said.
I ordered my ice cream and paid him, and before I'd even peeled back the wrapper and taken a bite of my Chocolate Eclair, he had turned the corner and vanished.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  pp166-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 02, 2016, 08:58:09 AM
Then a couple on a motorcycle pulled up. I remembered seeing them at the last gas station about 50 miles down the road. They were riding a trike, a motorcycle with three wheels, pulling a trailer, definitely not cool. I hadn't wanted to talk to them then. All I wanted was to talk to them now. Maybe they could help us.
The guy got off his bike and walked towards us.
"You have to help my husband!" I said, waving my hands. "He just fell down and it was my fault because I stopped without signaling- I was about to signal- and this is just awful and-"
The man grabbed hold of my right thumb, holding it in midair, until I grew quiet. Then he let my thumb go and walked toward Jonny.
"The bike doesn't look damaged," the guy said.
"But it didn't start!" Jonny said.
"Just take out the key and wait a moment for it to readjust, and then try again."
Jonny turned the key and pushed the ignition button. The motorcycle coughed, groaned and hacked like an old man. Then it cleared its throat, decided that life was good after all, and let out a proper BMW purr.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  pp212-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 03, 2016, 09:36:39 AM
We got back on our bikes. Jonny took the lead before we got on the highway. On the entrance ramp, I noticed my ugly gray pocketbook hanging by its strap off the handlebar. I had hung it there after I'd gone into the convenience store- and I'd forgotten to put it back in my tank bag. How could I be so careless once again?
Jonny was about to to shift up, gathering speed to merge onto the highway. I had to stay close to him so we wouldn't lose each other- we had no other way to communicate- and yet my pocketbook was hanging off my handlebar. It would either get caught in the front wheel or it would fly right off, which would mean losing all my money and credit cards, not to mention my journal and my fountain pen. I pulled over, snatched the pocketbook and stuffed it into the tank bag, and then gave Jonny the thumbs-up and he pulled across onto the highway.
The Mom Who Took Off On Her Motorcycle  Diana Bletter  p230
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 04, 2016, 08:01:41 AM
Turn three is a fast downhill left-hander, almost flat out in fifth gear, and it is probably my favourite corner in the world. It's what I call a 'balls out' corner, the kind of corner that has always seemed to suit me. You get a strong wind coming at you from the inside and it makes you want to lose the front. Some people chicken out when the bike gets light and most riders put weight on the front to carry as much speed as they can. The real key, though, is to get the rear sliding way before you even hit the apex. This takes all the guesswork out of trusting the front through that corner and not knowing whether it will stick or not because of the wind. You have to take the weight off the front and turn with the rear and that's when it really takes guts...
Twenty-seven laps - the perfect number - I come out of turn twelve for the final time and see the chequered flag being prepared. I am about to win the 2012 Australian MotoGP, my home race. I experience a familiar moment of relief and elation but this time that flag holds extra significance...
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 05, 2016, 10:13:01 AM
My 'modified' was a real weapon for a five-year-old, a 60cc Kawasaki that Dad had de-stroked to be a 50 by changing the crank shaft to one he had made himself.
He pretty much hand-built the whole thing with bits and pieces given to him by an old racing friend of his, Terry Paviell, who had competed with some success over in Europe. That thing used to fly and the 'Kwaka' was my pride and joy.
While we were living at Wongawallan Dad bought himself a road bike and he used to take me out on the back of it to go down to the shops. In the end, though, he had to stop because I would be hanging off the side, trying to get my knee down around the corners like the guys I'd seen on the TV. Dad would have to reach behind and haul me back on.
The bug had definitely bitten, so we started travelling around Queensland to race at different tracks such as North Brisbane, Gladstone, Kilcoy, Trailblazers and Wheelstanders junior bike clubs, racing most weekends with up to fourteen races at each event. Sometimes I'd win them all, sometimes I wouldn't do as well, but I was constantly learning from my successes and failures.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 06, 2016, 07:14:58 AM
Paul Feeney says now: 'They put on a display that was probably highly illegal... pitting the club's young star up against the soon-to-be World Champion in the same race. Casey was riding his little KX 50 and he just gave it to 'em. I mean, Mick and Daryl were messing around a bit but Casey was hanging in there. In the end it got a bit serious because neither of them wanted to get shown up by this kid; he was a bit better than he was supposed to be! But he didn't care who they were, he just wanted to beat them. That was when I said to Colin, "Look mate, if you can keep the whole package together this kid is going to make it. There is no grey area where he's going." Every now and again a kid comes along but he was a level above that. One in a million.'
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  pp24-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 07, 2016, 04:57:07 PM
There have been a few successful racers from the Gold Coast, such as Chris Vermeulen, Ant West and, of course, Mick Doohan, but generally speaking the majority of recent Australian talent seems to have come from the Hunter Valley in New South Wales, particularly the areas around Kurri Kurri and Maitland, which are mining towns. I'm not sure why this is but I think its fair to say these places are tougher to grow up in than the Gold Coast and the area's tradition for hard racing seems to have encouraged some real talent, including the likes of Broc Parkes, Josh Brookes, Jamie and Daniel Stauffer and Chad Reed. Even Troy Bayliss and the Cudlin brothers, Damian and Alex, are from Taree, not too far away from the Hunter Valley region.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  pp33-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 08, 2016, 09:26:37 AM
Dad tells of one particular day at the West Maitland junior dirt-track that really sticks in his memory. 'We were messing about with the bike, setting it up different tyre pressures like you would on a practice day at a Grand Prix. The best lap Casey had ever done there was about 20.4 seconds or something similar. This day he managed to get his time down to a 20.1 so I promised him an ice-cream on the way home if he could crack the 20-second barrier before we left. He came past five or six times shaking his head, he knew he hadn't done it and he was right, he was stuck on 20.01. I was amazed he could be so sure of his lap time because he didn't have a timer on his bike. Then he came around on the next lap, crossed the line and nodded his head. I looked down at my stopwatch and, sure enough: 19.98. I could never understand, and I still can't, how he could measure the difference to that degree around a little track like that. It was dirty, slippery, the bike was moving around, there were a lot of factors. And to split a couple of thousandths of a second? That's almost unimaginable.'
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  pp39-40
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 09, 2016, 08:49:35 AM
Finally, after a few months, we got a response from the  AJRRA committee. It was a letter addressed to Dad and signed by the secretary of the club. Basically the three lines told us the application had been tabled at a committee meeting and my application to join the AJRRA had been denied.
There was no explanation, no apology, no nothing; just the letter, the cheque and the photo (we still have all three). Effectively I had been banned from racing in my own country at the age of fourteen for absolutely no reason. I was devastated. I didn't care about the politics, whatever they were, I just wanted to race motorbikes and I couldn't understand why I wasn't being allowed to do that when I had the ability. Riding bikes was all I had ever done. It was all I wanted to do. I couldn't understand it; it made no sense. All we could put it down to was jealousy and spite. Even if they had issues with my dad, why take it out on a kid?
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p61
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 10, 2016, 08:47:44 AM
In Spain...
At the start we were all given identical bikes but I was 1.5 seconds quicker than the other guys in the first test so they gave me an updated air box and exhaust. Basically, if you showed the potential they gave you support to see what else you could do and whether you were capable of running at the front. Simon was even smaller than Dani Pedrosa at the time so he could also make the bike look better than it was, especially in terms of power, so he got a few extra bits and pieces too. I think I ended up with a 1998 kit on my bike, although this was in 2001 so they were still a long way off Grand Prix specs. Given my history of makeshift bikes I wasn't complaining!
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  pp89-90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 11, 2016, 09:45:55 AM
From a technical point of view one of the main areas in which I felt I was lacking compared with the European kids was trailing the front brakes into the
corners, which loads the front tyre and gives better grip and stability. It's a technique they were able to master from a much earlier stage than me. I came from dirt-track where you mainly use the rear brake. They came through minibikes, where you use a lot of front. I had experimented with this as a kid but I just wasn't pushing the front tyre hard or at an angle and it took me along time to get good at it- well into my MotoGP career.
My strength was in the way I could adapt to different circumstances: different bikes, tracks, tyres and weather conditions, which was all thanks to my background in dirt-track. I had spent hundreds of hours riding every different kind of surface imaginable.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p101
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 12, 2016, 07:40:41 AM
I decided to stop focusing on Marco and concentrate on using my own braking markers, which had worked well for me in qualifying. What I didn't allow for was that with a full tank of fuel the bike weighed around ten kilos more than it had done in qualifying, so all my reference points were effectively no good. It was only a matter of time before things went wrong. As I went through the fast left over a slight crest in turn three the bike became unsettled by a bump and as I braked hard for the tight right-hander at turn four the extra load on the front made the suspension bottom out, the impact causing the rear wheel to lift slightly off the ground.
With the bike already at an angle the rear moved to one side, the rubber bit hard on the tarmac as it came back down and drove even more force through the flexing chassis and suspension. When I grabbed the brakes again, trying not to plough straight into Melandri as he tipped into the corner ahead of me, the rear tyre flicked from one edge to the other and the bike loaded up and bucked before launching me into the air. It was a big crash but I think it looked more spectacular than what it was and at least I knew why it had happened. Despite how dramatic it looked, I only ended up with a scratch on my chin.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  pp107-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 13, 2016, 11:50:46 AM
One night at Mugello in Italy it was at least 35 degrees and it was like an oven. When we were travelling we had to sleep with the windows closed and the home locked up tight so we didn't get robbed.
One night we were stopped at a service station in a big area used as an overnight stop by caravans and motorhomes. Thieves target places like this and use gas to make sure everyone inside is unconscious before they break in. The one time it happened to us they couldn't get inside because we were locked up like Fort Knox. The owners of three other vans parked near us weren't so lucky. While they lost money and passports all we had to deal with was a bit of a headache (though Mum thought it was the best sleep she'd had in ages!) and a stolen battery-powered scooter from the enclosed trailer.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 14, 2016, 12:57:59 PM
That good feeling didn't last long, unfortunately. In the next round at Brno, in the Czech Republic, I was trying a experimental chassis for Aprilia (it used to
buck so hard we called it 'Chainsaw' after a famous Australian rodeo bull). I'd finished fourth fastest in the wet in morning free practice and was running
second fastest after six laps of first qualifying in the dry when it spat me off and I hurt myself pretty badly, breaking my collarbone and scaphoid.
A broken collarbone is a fairly common injury for a racer and not too serious because they normally heal okay, but the scaphoid is bad news, even though it is a tiny little bone, no bigger than a cashew nut. First of all, it is in an extremely important part of the wrist, just below the thumb, where you need a lot of
strength, stability and flexibility. Secondly it has limited blood circulation to it so it is a bone that doesn't heal well and if it is not fixed quickly and properly it will die. Together with the doctors at the Clinica Mobile (the medical clinic that travels with every race) the team organised for us to head straight back to San Marino for surgery to staple the bone back together and my wrist was fitted with a small cast.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p122
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 15, 2016, 01:44:58 PM
In the past we might have disagreed over things to do with the bike but that would be about it. I knew my place and I respected Mum and Dad's decisions. But I was growing older and like any nineteen-year-old I was forming my own ideas. Things reached a tipping point at Phillip Island. There was a lot of expectation on me after the win in Malaysia, a lot of demands on my time, we were all under a bit of stress and no one reacted well. Things with Dad came to a head at the riders' box at Phillip Island. We ended up scuffling, which wasn't pretty for anybody.
Even with all that going on I still placed third in the race. It was a tough decision to tell my dad I wanted to do this my own way from then on. I'd already had some conversations with former racer, Randy Mamola and a business colleague of his, Bob Moore, who worked for a big American management company called WMG, and I'd decided that the best thing for my career was to go with them.
Dad told me to do what I wanted but he wasn't going anywhere until he'd checked out the management contract. He said, 'Once I'm happy with the contract, you go for your life.'
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p134
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 16, 2016, 08:40:22 AM
I was definitely maturing, learning from my experiences and at the end of that year I had a look at the relationship I had with Bob and Randy. It hadn't worked out the way I thought it would. They had tried to advise me on everything from training to psychology without me wanting their input on these things and yet they hadn't brought us a single sponsor and were trying to cut in on deals that we already had. I didn't like that at all. The turning point was when they wanted me to switch from Nolan to a different helmet company because they offered more money. That wasn't what I wanted. I had a good relationship with Nolan and I felt I owed them because they'd supported me at the beginning of my career when one else would. Those loyalties mean nothing to a management company- they just want to take their percentage. It was a big lesson and I decided to end our relationship. I knew I couldn't manage myself but I wanted someone who'd respect my opinions and loyalties. I decided to talk to Dad about it. We'd needed the space to change the way we worked together but once we set boundaries we both knew we could make it work. Dad stopped being part of my career other than on the management side from that point on.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p138
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 17, 2016, 09:47:15 AM
Dad will tell you, 'As outsiders, we'd always watched and heard about these so-called tyre wars but we never understood how political it all really is. Michelin could control the championship, and could practically decide who was going to win. For some, they'd fly tyres in from France overnight! Casey never had any tyres flown in, I know that for a fact. If he got a tyre in practice that was three or four tenths of a second quicker than everybody else- and you can look at the time sheets if you don't believe me because this what happened- they'd usually take it off him and give it to another rider. Casey would go out in the race and nearly always it would be the front that folded on him.'
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p155
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 18, 2016, 09:24:39 AM
Was it all political that season? I can't tell you that but occasionally I thought so. I remember at Phillip Island we had a few problems with the bike but we got it sorted in warm-up and I set the fastest time of the session- we were flying- then, just before the start of the race, Honda officials told us we couldn't use the gearbox setting we had because supposedly the fuel wouldn't make it to the end. Maybe they were right but to me it just seemed like Honda didn't like the idea that I might beat their factory bikes. There were lots of things happening like that, one after the other, which made me realise just how little control a privateer team has.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  pp158-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 19, 2016, 11:43:14 AM
On race day we got lucky. It started raining and the race got under way in wet conditions, which gave me the chance to go up front quite early. I led for a lap before Melandri came past on lap five but I had a reasonably good feeling with the bike and I felt comfortable in second place. Things looked to be falling into our hands until the second half of the race, when the rain stopped, the track started to dry and the wet tyres started to wear out. At that point Valentino and Dani came past and I didn't really know whether to come in to change to my spare bike, which was fitted with slick tyres until the team put 'box' on my pit board.
After we changed bikes there was something up with the steering damper and I couldn't tip into the corners like I wanted but luckily Valentino had a problem too and even though we crossed the line in sixth place we managed to finish ahead of him, which because of the problem with the steering was our only real target that day. Pretty much everybody had a disaster apart from the three who ended up on the podium: Capirossi, Toni Elias and Randy de Puniet.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  pp180-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 20, 2016, 04:45:48 PM
Being up on the podium in front of all those Australian fans was just unbelievable, I'd never felt anything like it. It was also cool because my teammate Loris, who had been good to me all season, was up there with me. With him having won the race in Japan, it was an incredible couple of weeks for the team and for Ducati. Becoming MotoGP World Champion, winning my home Grand Prix and marrying the girl I loved weren't the only three dreams that came true in 2007. In the space of twelve months there had been quite a big turnaround in our financial situation and one more win that season, in Malaysia, helped contribute to a bonus package that amounted to four times my basic wage for the season. I had to pinch myself at the end of that season: could it get any better! At that point, I could quite happily see myself spending the rest of my career with Ducati.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p184
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 21, 2016, 01:52:42 PM
In the next round at Brno the bike was working pretty well all weekend and I qualified on pole by over a second in the wet but made a mistake on the seventh lap of the race, lost the front and slipped off. Looking at the lap times I could have probably still finished on the podium if I got back on the bike but it wouldn't restart. The reason why pretty much summed up my season. After examining the bike back in the garage the team showed me a rock, the exact size and half-moon shape to fit into the butterfly valves and jam them closed. There was probably no other rock in that gravel trap that would have done it. It was just not meant to happen.
Lots of people thought I crashed that day because Valentino had got into my head but that is not the case and they were reading far too much into it. When I go out to race I try to win, its as simple as that. I'm not looking at the bigger picture at the championship or things that have gone on before with other riders.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p200
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 22, 2016, 09:26:41 AM
That first win was a massive relief and in the next round at Motegi I produced what I still consider to be one of the best races of my entire career. We'd qualified third and never really looked like being on the pace in free practice, when Dovizioso had been setting the most consistent times, but it opened up for me on the first lap and I hit the front. We knew that we didn't have the acceleration to get out of the corners and line up a pass on the brakes so once I found myself in front I just pushed as hard as I could and hung on for dear life for the next twenty-four laps. I knew that bike wasn't capable of winning that day but I was going for it.
I can honestly say I was pushing the limit on every single lap, except for maybe the last two when I had a slight gap. Dovi was right behind me the whole way with Valentino not much further back and Jorge right behind him and the three of them didn't let go. I was on the mat every single lap but managed not to make a single mistake. I was physically destroyed at the end because I had put in so much effort and the next Ducati was so far back it wasn't funny; about 50 seconds behind me in twelfth place.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  pp220-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 23, 2016, 01:26:19 PM
This was my dream team, to run the same colours as Mick, and to think that I could possibly be the person to take them back to the glory days they had enjoyed with him was a motivation for me.
A move to the Repsol Honda factory team would mean that for the first time I would be sharing a garage with Dani Pedrosa, who I knew would be my most competitive teammate ever. I saw that as a good thing. I've always had a lot of respect for Dani, and his talent on a bike, ever since I saw him for the first time in the Spanish Championship in 2000. Even though his results weren't great back in those early days I can remember saying to my dad at the time that he had a nice style about him. Of course he went on to become one of the best riders of his era, a 125cc and 250cc World Champion, and we had battled many times in the smaller classes. Joining Honda also meant we would be working with my old team boss from Ducati, Livio Suppo, but contrary to what a lot of people might think, Livio played no part in our decision to go to Honda. It was just coincidence, and a lot of the reasons I left Ducati were some of the same reasons that Livio left too.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  pp223-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 24, 2016, 10:11:19 AM
Honda were prepared to do whatever we wanted to the bike but in reality it was good from the start and we just needed to make minor adjustments to make it suit me.
We started off with the 2010 model at Valencia so that I could give them a steer on winter development but the moment I got on it felt like an incredible machine. I could open the throttle and it turned. It was finishing off the corners for me so I could turn my attention to picking it up and driving it out and in the first part of corner entry it was so stable. We had to work on braking, and the electronics package wasn't quite what we had with the Ducati, but the difference was that the Ducati really needed the electronics. With the Honda we could make do with what we had because the rest of the package was so good.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p225
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STroppy on August 24, 2016, 10:29:45 AM
Thanks Biggles for these excerpts fron Casey Stoners book a very interesting read  . . . I'm going to go buy the book if I can find it . .
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 24, 2016, 11:15:42 AM
It's excellent.  Written from the heart, unlike Rossi's exercise in narcissism.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 25, 2016, 09:34:42 AM
And if a rider doesn't care about own safety then it stands to reason he doesn't care about anybody else's either. Don't get me wrong, MotoGP is as safe as it has ever been in terms of the gravel traps, circuit layouts and rider equipment, but the fact that certain riders were still putting others at risk even after Marco's death bothered me a lot. It seemed to me that the race organisers still wanted to see biff and barge and Marco's death hadn't changed their perspective. Even the Safety Committee set up by the riders, seemed to have become less about safety and, for a few members, more about guys trying to get their own way. As far as I was concerned we were basically puppets in a show and I wasn't sure I wanted to be a part of it any more.
For a few years I'd been feeling differently about the sport I loved. I'd thought I was working with people who shared the same passions and goals as I did but I'd come to realise that wasn't always the case. To be wholly focused on the business of racing and have an eye always on the money wasn't what I was about but more and more I became aware that was what mattered too often to others. Marco's death wasn't the cause of my disillusionment, but it did bring it all into focus for me. My eyes were open to the negative aspects of MotoGP and I didn't know how to change things.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  p248
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 26, 2016, 09:09:10 AM
I had just twenty-five laps of the track left to go riding the fastest motorcycle ever built.
After twelve laps I had a four second advantage over Jorge but I let it drop slightly, allowing him to close the gap before pushing to open it up again, purely for the sake of giving myself an extra point of focus. You only have to lose your concentration for a split second before you end up like Dani did in turn four. The only thing I allowed to distract me was the crowd. There were Australian flags everywhere and I wanted to soak up this unique moment in my life. The final two laps were the best. I knew the race was wrapped up and I didn't have to look after the tyres anymore. I spun the rear tyre even more than I needed to through turn three and enjoyed the corner.
After twenty-seven laps- the perfect number- I came out of turn twelve for the final time and saw the chequered flag being prepared. It's a familiar moment of relief and joy but that day it held extra significance. Winning at Phillip Island for the sixth time was the perfect way to finish my MotoGP career.
The celebrations after the race were awesome and everywhere I turned someone wanted to congratulate me shake my hand. Adri, Ally, Mum, Dad and lots of friends were there to share it all with me and that made it even more special. It was a great way to say goodbye to the sport and celebrate all we'd achieved.
Pushing The Limits  Casey Stoner  pp268-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 27, 2016, 12:48:41 PM
So I'd sit there and think about things, and then once in a while, just to shake them up, I'd turn to Brivio and say "You do realise, don't you, that if this bike
is no good I'm going to blame you and you alone? Because I know you. I don't know Jarvis and Furusawa - you're the one I know and you're the one who's going to get it."
He'd sit quietly and listen.
"If this bike doesn't go, it's going to be your arse on the line!" I'd say and he'd look at me with this strange expression, somewhere between worry and terror.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  p8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 28, 2016, 12:06:54 PM
That's why that first race at Welkom was the most important of my career. Because it was my first with Yamaha. Because I battled until the last turn with Biaggi. Because he and I were so fast that Gibernau, who finished third, might as well have been racing in another championship. As for the guy who finished fourth, well, he had virtually disappeared. Ultimately, I had proved what I had set out to prove: the importance of man over machine. That's what it was all about and my win at Welkom confirmed this.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  p10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 29, 2016, 09:16:57 AM
Still, the M1 did have a few elements that I found interesting and that I even actually liked. The problem was they were lost in the jumbled mess that was the 2003 M1. At one point, I looked at the dashboard and noticed that Yamaha were already using a digital display. Honda on the other hand, had a small, analogue dash which was very traditional. Yamaha's was not just electronic, but huge and full of information and data.
Yoda noticed that I was captivated by the dashboard. He came close to me and switched it on, showing me the various functions. To be fair, it had many things that the Honda RCV simply did not have.
"Very nice," I said.
"We made it nice and big so that, if there's time during a race, you can sit back and watch a DVD on it," Yoda deadpanned, keeping a very straight face.
There was silence. Gibo, Uccio and I looked at each other for an instant or two, before bursting out laughing. And Yoda joined in heartily. I loved it. That episode showed me that Yamaha's engineers, indeed, the whole team at Yamaha, have a certain spirit, a certain joie de vivre. They'll laugh, they'll joke, they have a certain cheek about them. Such an attitude would have been unthinkable at Honda, where everyone is deadly serious and disciplined, constantly preoccupied with reaffirming the superiority of the Honda Empire.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  pp27-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 30, 2016, 09:12:51 AM
Naturally, I was late, very late for my meeting with the Yamaha executives. They were waiting for me in a hotel room, and the more time passed, the more worried they became. They knew I had to catch the flight to Sydney and minutes ticked by, they started to think that maybe just maybe, I wouldn't show. That I would stand them up. I appeared suddenly, all out of breath and dishevelled. I had my rucksack on and I was dragging my luggage behind me.
"Here I am!" I shouted, bursting into the room and tossing my bags to one side. "I only have fifteen minutes to spare, so let's make this quick, shall we? I have a flight to catch!"
They looked at me with disbelief. I was just trying to lighten the mood, to break the tension. And it worked. After all, when you know you're wrong, dead wrong, you might as well go on the offensive straight away, before they have a go at you.
"Come on, we're late, we'll miss the flight, let's see this contract... Great, looks great to me! Fine!" I said, barely skimming it. "Let's get this thing signed."
Thus, I showed up to sign one of the most important contracts of my life in exactly the same way I do most things: at the last minute. For, you see, I am always, absolutely and constantly, late. It's one of my greatest flaws. I can only concentrate and be at my best if time is tight, if everything is on the edge and we all have to rush. If there's time, if we can do things calmly and quietly, I just can't perform.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  pp55-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 31, 2016, 11:57:48 AM
My teachers realised this early on, which is why they've left me a whole legacy of outrageous judgements and catastrophic predictions, which then proved to be completely and absolutely wrong. Thank goodness.
The most incredible one, the one most wide of the mark, came from my Art History teacher, who one day said: "Do you really think that if you keep going around with your silly motorcycles one day you're going to make a living off them?"
That question, that remark, which at the time seemed so cutting, today is something I can only smile about. I have thought about it several times during my career.
Because, I suppose, the one thing even my critics could agree on is that I have managed to eke out a living racing motorbikes, no?
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  p104
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 01, 2016, 09:27:39 AM
At the time, diplomacy was pretty much an alien concept to me. I usually said what came into my head. I spoke my mind, particularly on certain subjects. And I was incapable of making distinctions. For example, at the time I had not fully understood how to behave with the media, so I regularly got myself into embarrassing situations. I judged others, without really thinking about it. Sometimes journalists came up to me and said, "Hey, did you know that such-and-such rider said these horrible things about you?"
And I wasn't exactly restrained. I always answered back. They all laughed and loved it, because I was always good for a line. I laughed too. The difference is that, once they had stopped laughing, the journalists went away and wrote my words in their computers and, soon thereafter, they ended up in the newspapers.
I was too outspoken. Too direct. And that's how my long-running feud with Biaggi began.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  p113
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 02, 2016, 09:38:10 AM
That was something I decided after the Italian Grand Prix in 1998. At Mugello, I was in the 250cc category; the race was won by Marcellino Lucchi. Prior to the race, I had planned to go to the podium as if I were going to the beach: bathing suit, sunglasses, beach towel around my neck. Doing it even though I had not won was a mistake.
At the time I did not realise it, because I was very happy, since I had beaten Capirossi and Tetsuya Harada, my true rivals. And so I thought it would be fun to celebrate anyway, and I performed my little routine, stepping up to the podium as if I were strolling down to the beach. Next day, when I read the newspapers, I saw that everyone was disappointed in me. They said that I had been unfair to Lucchi. He was forty-three and did not win many races. This was his moment in the sun, his big day. And I had unwittingly upstaged him. I did not mean to do this, of course. In my mind, I just wanted to celebrate and make people laugh. And yet the newspapers claimed that, because I had to always be the centre of attention, I had robbed Lucchi of his big moment.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  p136
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 03, 2016, 08:10:29 AM
And, on Sunday, I won. On my victory lap I stopped right near the portable loo and leaned the bike against the wall. The crowd was clapping and shouting, they were really loud, I think they thought I was going to climb the hill towards them, the way a footballer might run towards the fans to celebrate a goal. Instead, I turned towards the loo. The crowd was going wild, they had no idea what I was doing. And then I stepped inside. For an instant, silence descended on the track, as if God had pressed the cosmic mute button. In the toilet, I couldn't hear a thing. And it was wonderful. It only lasted a second or two, but it was incredible. I stepped out and the crowd, once again, went nuts, louder than before.
It was beautiful. Unforgettable. It was the greatest idea I have ever had. So many people around the world who perhaps were not really motorbike fans nevertheless talked about what happened that day. And they still talk about it now, years later.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  pp144-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 04, 2016, 12:06:57 PM
I'd arrive with the bike, Paolo would remove the underfairings, Carlo laid out the tarpaulin, and Brazzi took his trusty small torch and examined the carburation of the bottom cylinder. It was a mystical moment; everyone fell silent. Then he'd get up and we would all wait with bated breath for his verdict. "She's rich," he would say, or, "She's lean," depending on whether there was too much air or too much petrol in the mix. And then he would announce the course of action to follow.
My bike was always fast and dependable. My rivals claimed that it was because we got the best material and parts from the racing department, but this wasn't true.
We simply had Brazzi, who was the best around when it came to tuning a bike. While others always had carburation problems, and sometimes seized up as a result, my bike was always perfect.
My first win in 250cc came at Assen, in Holland. And it was all down to Brazzi. Noale had sent us a new exhaust. The bike did run a bit better with it, but Brazzi was adamant: "We're not using that thing in the race."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because I think it retains too much air, so if the engine heats up, it's going to break," he explained.
I trusted him and allowed myself to be convinced by his judgement. I did not use the new exhaust, whereas the other two Aprilias, belonging to Capirossi and Harada, duly mounted them. And, as it happened, both broke down during the race. My bike, on the other hand, had no problems and so I won handily. This showed that I was right in choosing a man like Brazzi and his team.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  pp203-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 05, 2016, 01:28:56 PM
Today there is no 500cc category any more, of course, it's been replaced by MotoGP. The demise of 500cc helped to weed out many problems, but also a fair dose of excitement. Because the simple truth is that no bike in the world can match a two-stroke 500cc. I loved its violent character- it was so intense that you got an adrenalin boost every time you shifted gears. Besides, I was a massive fan, as 500cc had always been the home of the best racers.
I made my debut, at the end of 1999, on one of Alex Criville's bikes (he had just become world champion). It was also identical to Mick Doohan's bike, and he had just retired. That NSR featured the four-cylinder or "screamer" - version, whereas the one I rode in 2001, when I won the title, was somewhat different from Doohan's bike. I had always imagined my debut on an official Honda 500cc as a sort of initiation, almost as some kind of formal ceremony. I had fantasised about it so many times, that I had already played it out in my head.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  p211
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 06, 2016, 09:01:08 AM
And Michele was very fast when it was wet, and sometimes things did not work out so well. In fact, he banged up the R6 quite badly, just after buying it.
Once, we were in the square in front of my house, right near the restaurant. I tried his bike and, naturally, it was of those typical London days. It was dark and rainy, even in the middle of summer.
When I returned I said: "Look, today is not a good day to be out on the bike. This asphalt is no good, the tyres have no traction, it's very dangerous!" Just then we saw a pizza-delivery guy fly past us on an ancient Kawasaki 350. As he came round a turn on the wet asphalt, his foot-stand hit the pavement and he took a slight wobble but, amazingly, he didn't fall and even kept the pizza boxes upright!
I often wondered about the pizza-delivery guys. To me, they are fantastic riders. They'll overtake you on the wet, in traffic, on cobblestones, they can handle any situation. And they're always fast. I think some of them are wasted talents. In fact, the pizza-delivery kid on the old Kawasaki 350 might have potentially been faster than me!
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  p238
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 07, 2016, 10:04:35 AM
The first time I saw a photograph of the Aprilia SR was in the pages of MotoSprint, and the first time we saw it for real was in the shop window of a store called Champion, in Pesaro. We had actually organised a tour to visit the Champion store and see the Aprilia SR. We left Tavullia and went to Pesaro by bus. I stood outside the shop window open-mouthed, nose pressed against the glass, tongue out, drooling at the sight of that scooter. Yes, it was that beautiful.
When the time came time for Uccio to get his Aprilia SR, both Graziano and I went with him. Graziano had borrowed a van and we had to drive all the way to San Marino, because the bike had sold out in our part of the country. The van we had borrowed didn't have any kind of strap or support in the back, which did pose a bit of a problem on the way back. So we made the best of it. Uccio and I put down the stand and, for the entire journey, stood in the back of the van, holding it up with our hands, making sure it didn't fall. You could say that he and I were the straps that day. Needless to say, we were thrown all over the place in the back of that van, but we gladly put our bodies on the line to protect the bike.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  p253
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 08, 2016, 09:48:46 AM
One day I was on my way home and I decided to show off my parking skills with a very sophisticated manoeuvre. I came down the hill towards my house in neutral, thinking that all I needed to do was brake at the exact right time and the Apecar would magically slip into its parking spot. It wasn't the smartest thing to do.
I had picked up a lot of speed when, all of a sudden, one of the tyres hit the pavement, sending the Apecar hurtling through the air. I rolled with it, of course, as if I had been in a giant cardboard box. Our flight down the hill was interrupted by a parked Jeep, which we struck at speed. We rolled a little further until the Apecar came to rest on its side. I was a little groggy, but I was fine. I opened the door, which was facing straight up to the sky, and crawled out, as if I were coming out of a submarine. Imagine my surprise when, just as my head and torso began to poke out of the Apecar, I realised where I had landed. I was just in front of my mum's kitchen. And she was there, staring at me, while cooking her minestrone. She was wide-eyed and shocked, as was I. Her expression was somewhere between incredulity and anger.
"Are you hurt?" she said. She was, after all, my mother.
"I'm fine," I said, using my most reassuring smile.
"OK, in that case, come in and set the table," she said. Dinner is ready."
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  pp271-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 09, 2016, 02:06:20 PM
And if I had a magic wand and could have one wish granted, I would take Mike Hailwood with me on the Panoramica. Yes, we'd have a nice adventure on the Panoramica. As far as I'm concerned, Hailwood was the greatest ever. Back in his day, many races were run on urban circuits, which would have made him perfect for a road stretch like the Panoramica.
I'd love to go for a ride with Wayne Rainey. But, with him, it's more of a competitive thing. It would be great if we could square of, one-on-one, with the exact same bike and tyres. Rainey is one of the riders I admired most. In his day, Yamaha was much slower than Honda and yet he always went for it, he always believed utterly in himself. And, even though he was very fast, he hardly ever fell, so he was always in it at the end. There is no question that he and I have very different personalities, but for me he was one of the all-time greats. Rainey and Hailwood: those are the guys I'd look to measure myself against. And I like the idea, because taking on Hailwood indirectly means taking on his contemporaries, Agostini and Read, while facing Rainey involves competing with the likes of Schwantz and Doohan.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  pp274-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 10, 2016, 04:55:50 PM
When we left for Japan, I dubbed myself "The Master", not in an arrogant sense, but because I had been going to Japan since 1996, and now I felt like I knew my way around and thus would make the perfect tour guide. My first task was explaining to them just why the Japanese are different from the Italians. For example, I wanted to prove just how kind, gentle and respectful the Japanese were. And the way I did it was by harassing the staff at our hotel and encouraging the others to do the same. The idea was that no matter how badly we behaved, they would still treat us well. "Smile and everything will work out," I told my friends.
They learned very quickly. They said hello to everyone, smiled and basically did whatever the hell they wanted for five days. In that time, we stayed five to a room, and we ate, slept, used the pool and never paid a single penny for anything. We were really shameless, we really took advantage of them. We would come down for the breakfast buffet and be as rude as possible. We would jump the queue, grab whatever food we liked, sit wherever we liked and be as rude as we liked. And, of course, we would always leave without paying and usually after having made a mess.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  pp281-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 11, 2016, 12:47:32 PM
Our other favourite pastime on that trip was stealing. We would steal from the various shops around the race-track. We would only steal little things of course: stickers, gadgets, toy cars. Cheap stuff, nothing expensive. But that was also part of our sociological experiment. You see in Japan there is no such thing as theft. It simply doesn't happen. People leave their front doors open, their cars unlocked. And, for them, it was unthinkable that someone might come and steal anything. We really wanted to try their patience, test the outer limit of what they could stand. In the end, however, we got a bit discouraged. We would walk up to the cash register and put things in our pocket in plain view, without any intention of paying for them. They would just look at us, without saying a thing. It was weird and unsettling. So much so that, at the end, we would give back what we had stolen or we would pay for it. Eventually we realised that we had gone too far. It happened in 2001. Being superstitious, I took it as a sign. I had never won anything in Japan, not in 125, not in 250, not in 500. And the Eight Hour Race went badly as well.
"Let's try to behave well," we told ourselves. "Out of respect for Japan, let's stop being Italians!"
And so we did. In 2001, we didn't steal anything. And I won both the Grand Prix and the Eight Hour Race. And that put a halt to our experiments.
What If I Had Never Tried It   Valentino Rossi  pp283-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 12, 2016, 09:20:35 AM
Sheene's character carried his fame. He had an overwhelming charisma. Call it star quality. Sheene's presence was so powerful and so magnetic that he had only to walk into a crowded room and you would know at once that he had arrived. His sharp-featured grin was easily the most noticeable thing in any company; his razor-sharp wit could reduce friends to helpless laughter and cut enemies to the quick. Barry had a knack of making everyone feel that there was something personal between him and them. No matter how small, it was enough to make everybody feel a little special, and for Barry to be forever special to them.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  p12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 13, 2016, 09:39:54 AM
The Queen Square flat was a well-trodden path for a large cross-section of the racers of the day. As Iris told me years later, there would be a steady stream turning up at the door in the evenings. Iris might be cooking the family tea, or bathing one of their two children in the big kitchen sink ('we had no central heating, so it was nice and warm there')- she would wave the visitors through to the workshop. As soon as he could, Barry would be in there too, steeped from earliest boyhood not only in the technical side of motorcycles, but also the racing milieu. And racing people, Frank told me once, are 'good people'. As everyone in racing would find out, Barry would run rings round them all.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  p19
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 14, 2016, 02:09:49 PM
Wednesday afternoons were bike days down at Brands Hatch, the Kentish circuit that was closest to home. Barry's asthma came in handy: on a regular visit to the clinic he managed to lay hands on a pile of appointment slips, all stamped and signed, but with the dates blank. He had doctor's appointments most Wednesdays after that. It was enough for him to be hands-on with the bikes; he had no idea he might become a professional racer. But he was practising for it all the same, at 13 belting round the fields surrounding the race-tracks on a 1OOcc Triumph Tiger Cub, and playing with his mini-bike and an old Austin Ten that Frank had bought so he could learn to drive.
The following year Frank bought him a Bultaco Sherpa trials bike, and for a spell he enjoyed club-level mud-plugging in Kent. Trials are demanding, severely testing the niceties of machine control, weight distribution and traction- feathering the clutch, flying the front wheel, carefully measuring the power. Barry, his contemporaries recall, was extremely good... the finesse came naturally, but the sport bored him, and he would lose points trying to do sections at breakneck speed or on the back wheel.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 15, 2016, 09:57:02 AM
The little factory racer was saved for special occasions- like an important national meeting at Brands Hatch, where two senior Suzuki GB men were present. One was the racing team manager Rex White; another was sales (later managing) director Maurice Knight.
White: "I'd seen Barry on the Bultacos. Now, on the ex-Graham Suzuki at Brands, he broke the throttle cable, and he actually won the race, pulling the carbs open with the cable wound round his hand. I said to Maurice, that's the sort of bloke we want on our team, if he's that determined."
White remembered it wrong- in fact he was beaten that day by Simmonds, but the point was made, and Maurice Knight later wandered over to the Sheene family in the paddock. Franko was sitting smoking on a wooden stool outside an old van and Barry was playing about with the bike out front. They were just like dozens of others there. I said I was Suzuki, that I was pleased with the way he had run the race. That's where the acquaintance started.
Both sides would benefit hugely in the years to come- and Barry would start working on that almost at once.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  p37
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 16, 2016, 09:54:49 AM
The film shows the big Suzuki at high speed on the banking. For a heart-stopping instant it slews sideways a ball of smoke, then a jumble of flying objects hurtles past the camera. Barry came to rest in a crumpled heap 300 yards further on, still conscious, his left leg snapped at the thigh and folded behind him. He thought at first he had lost it completely. You can't see this in the long shot, but he tries to open his visor, to discover that his right arm is also broken. Then the big American ambulance rushes to the scene, way down the track, at the entry to Turn One.
Sheene recalled, the year before he died, how he came to, "completely compos mentis in every way. I just wanted them to take my helmet off, give me a cigarette,  and leave me alone to settle down. None of which they did."
Cameras rolling, treatment began almost at once before Barry had cheerfully reeled off his list of injuries- broken left femur and right arm, compression fractures to several vertebrae, broken ribs and extensive road rash on his back- adding impishly: "Apart from that- I'm fine." Later, he would say: "I lost enough skin to  cover a sofa" and as tellingly- "If I'd been a race-horse, they would have shot me."
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  pp52-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 17, 2016, 05:00:42 PM
His main rival for the home series was Mick Grant on the Kawasaki, and a fierce rival too. Grant, asked now what, of all their races, he remembers most, picks that Cadwell Park return. "It was just a few weeks after his crash. I mucked up the start, and most of the grid had gone. At that time it was either going to be me or Barry winning the race, though with his injuries it wasn't going to be him that day. But as I came through the field, the hardest guy to pass all the way was Barry. He got a lot of respect from me for that. He wasn't well, and the bones weren't mended. Had he fallen, he'd have been in bits again."
Mackay recalls Barry pitting after leading, barely able to stop the bike. He'd exercised all of his body, but neglected his hands and simply run out of strength there. "He was a physical wreck... just a blob of jelly." Sheene didn't make that mistake again. I recall visiting him at Charlwood after his other big crash at Silverstone in 1982. In his study, as well as an exercise bike that his legs were not yet strong enough to use, he had rigged up a pulley system, operated by twisting a steel tube, the width of a handlebar, with rubber on each end. He challenged me to twist this, lifting up a weight. I managed a couple of goes; Barry laid his sticks to one side and hoisted the weight skyward at record speed.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  p82
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 18, 2016, 12:27:21 PM
With his cheek and his wit, his homely good looks and crooked-tooth grin, and the increasingly carefully tended long hair with its natural blond streak, the brave British bike racer's appeal fitted the fashions of the time and cut across class barriers. His ability to enjoy and exploit his two world titles were the foundation of his status as folk hero. When the fortunes of racing went the other way, it mattered not a jot to the stature of Sheene the Superstar.
This made him, in retrospect, an obvious choice for Faberge. They were selling an aftershave called Brut- a mass-market fragrance for the flare-trousered medallion-flaunting disco-flouncing peacock males of the age. Faberge had already secured massive popular appeal with everybody's favourite heavyweight boxer Henry Cooper heading the campaign, but 'Our 'Enery' lacked youth appeal. Not so Barry. The series of TV and print ads they made together had a catch-phrase that passed into contemporary folklore, recounted in Barry's distinctive Cockney twang: 'Splash it on all over.' For Barry, as a boost to his fame, nothing- not even the life-size cardboard cut-outs at Texaco service stations, and the TV ads he did for them with actor Michael Crawford- beat the great smell of Brut.
Popularity on this scale certainly didn't hurt his chances. Even so, it was sporting achievements that gave the depth to his vast and ever-growing public appeal. One measure of this came from the professional journalists who cover everything from football to snooker, the Sports Writers Association. In 1978, he beat the popular middle-distance runner, Olympic gold medalist Steve Ovett, by 470 to 436 points to be their Sportsman of the Year.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  pp123-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 19, 2016, 09:20:37 AM
The helicopter flying instructors at Shoreham Airport, on the coast between Brighton and Worthing, were impressed by their latest pupil. He may have been on the older side, but his capacity and willingness to learn, and his possession of that magic understanding between man and machine, put him in the top bracket. "He could have trained for the Air Force, or become a commercial pilot," said Chris Bartlett, one of those who trained Barry Sheene.
Maybe it was something to do with turning 30, maybe a present to himself after a dismal year. Either way, late in 1980 Sheene became the proud owner of a second-hand American Enstrom helicopter, and threw himself headlong into training.
He'd owned a fixed-wing Cessna, and of course could fly it, but had never bothered to get a licence. Helicopters were something different- a real challenge.
Rotary-wing pilots will tell you, their eyes shining, just how much more difficult and involving it is to fly a helicopter than a fixed-wing aircraft. Barry was no different. In automotive terms, a helicopter is a motorcycle, a fixed-wing a dull old car.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  pp156-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 20, 2016, 09:54:05 AM
Barry spoke very highly of his own technical sympathy and understanding, and few would contradict him. Here's one quote, from the mid-Eighties. "I'm much better at setting up bikes than I am at riding them. Most of my success has been because I've got the bike right." The statement carries a not altogether comfortable corollary; that Roberts may not know how to get his bike right, but his riding ability made up the difference. But this is too simple by half.
Kenny's thoughtful approach to racing and his understanding of his machine was as widely respected as his hard-as-nails riding. Yet here was Sheene saying things like: "Kenny Roberts can't develop a motorcycle. He'd have trouble developing a cold!" This was so heretical, so very Sheene, that it caught the imagination. At the time, I asked Roberts for his opinion. "If I'm so bad, and I'm beating him, then what is he doing?"
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  pp165-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 21, 2016, 08:04:55 AM
It does come down to something more than tub thumping. Motorcycle racing is the most personal of motorsports for engineering as well as egotistical reasons. A racing motorcycle is a very personal object. Bear in mind that by moving around on the motorcycle the rider adjusts the entire centre of gravity, changing the whole balance of what is already a very complex technical equation. It follows that each rider's physiology, and the way he moves affects the way the machine responds to him. When you are operating at the limits of brake, tyre and engine performance, pushing the envelope of the physics, these small matters can be very important indeed.
If Barry didn't like the way Kenny had the engineers build and set up a motorcycle, and he certainly didn't, this wasn't to say that the bikes were wrong. Just wrong for Barry. Racing at the edge is very much a matter of feel, and if the bike doesn't give it to you, then you cannot use your full riding ability.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  p167
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 22, 2016, 08:56:43 AM
Ekerold saw him flash past Igoa, thought: "That was close". Then he saw two instant explosions. The first was Igoa's fuel tank, as Sheene's Yamaha hit the fallen bike; the second was Sheene's tank, as his disintegrating motorcycle somersaulted down the track. Simultaneously, Middelburg also ran into the wreckage. Ekerold's trousers were torn by flying debris, probably the front forks, ripped off Sheene's bike. The severity was unimaginable.
Keith Huewen was close behind, just in time to see the explosions, slamming on brakes and riding blind through a pall of smoke. He emerged to a horrifying scene, 'like an air crash'. Debris and smoking wreckage was strewn across the track. He'd stopped by chance alongside Sheene whose body was also smoking. Huewen was sure he must be dead. Trembling with shock, he returned to the pits with the dreadful news. Franko heard immediately, and went straight to the scene. As he approached, he met a white-faced Ekerold, who told him: "Don't go, Franko. You don't want to see."
But Frank had to go. Kenny Roberts had arrived by then, and carefully removed Barry's helmet. Other riders were standing around, some in tears. Marie Armes, wife of an official and a nurse by profession, inserted a breathing tube down his throat, very probably saving his life. Then Franko arrived, knelt beside him, cradled his head, and spoke to him. "Barry. Listen son. You're alright. Speak to me."
Amazingly, Barry responded, a faint groan. Frank kept talking, willing him to consciousness.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  p172
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 23, 2016, 08:26:57 AM
Sheene didn't mean to let this slow him down. He told me in 1983: "I never for a moment thought about retiring after the accident. I just thought about getting back. It's not as if there's some psychological thing to get over. It could have happened to anybody. It wasn't as though I messed up a corner or made a mistake. If I'd done that, I'd think I was getting a bit dodgy. The injuries were purely mechanical, physical damage, and you can fix that."
Just part of being a motorcycle racer. His last big crash had been a huge step in his career. This one would effectively end his time as a championship contender, if not as a racer. But the injury, or more especially his conspicuous courage and good cheer in recovery, would serve him as before.
For as those X-ray-rays were flashed on the TV screens and the newspapers, followed by pictures of Sheene on crutches, interviews and profiles, something happened to reverse the souring trend of the previous years.
The fans loved Barry Sheene once again.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  p175
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 24, 2016, 01:39:02 PM
Straight home, on the phone to Nigel Cobb, who told him that using crutches wouldn't damage his legs, though it would be excruciatingly painful. Never mind that. Sheene quickly learned how to 'quadruped' on crutches (having only had to deal with one leg at a time in the past), and presented himself for a fresh medical.     
He explained all this to me with a trademark one-up grin. "Dad was with me, and after I'd got the knack of the crutches, we went straight from the hospital back to the doctor at Gatwick. I could walk on them, but I couldn't stand up or sit down. So I said to Dad, when I go to sit down, you grab me and lower me down, and you drag me up when I have to get up, right, and I'll just keep giving you a bollocking.
"So we went in, and I go to sit down, and Dad grabs the back of my trousers and lowers me gently, and picks me up again to stand up. And I'd say: 'Look, Franko will you leave me now. I'm all right. You know I've been on crutches for ages.' A terrific two-man act. Dad's really great."
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  p181
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 25, 2016, 12:25:27 PM
The tributes came from far and wide- by email, by post, and in the press, from rivals, friends, and from tens of thousands of fans. All reflected the same bewilderment, that a man who had survived so much and, as a result, been a beacon of hope to so many, could be struck down so cruelly, and so prematurely. He died almost exactly six months before his 53rd birthday. The memorial meetings, the annual charity ride to the Australian GP and similar events in Britain continue to this day.
Sheene, in his remarkable life, had done more than anybody to promote not only himself, but at the same time motorcycling and racing. Much more importantly, he had been an example of sportsmanship, courage, individuality, humour and humanity. In death, his popularity remained. He had been bigger than his sport, and in the end he was bigger than his own mortality too.
Rest in peace.
Barry Sheene Motorcycle Racing's Jet-Set Superstar  Michael Scott  p216
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 26, 2016, 01:55:12 PM
A further 40 years would elapse before I visited India again. Goa was very different and I was no longer addicted to peace and love, hash cookies or psychedelics. A motorcycle had replaced the VW. I was writing a travel column and terrorists had attacked the Taj. Not the Taj Mahal but the hotel in Mumbai that, for a century, had played host to the rich and famous... and had become my haven in those first years of exploring the subcontinent; not because I was either rich or famous but through friendship with a kindly member of the family that owned the hotel. Now was my chance to repay hospitality with positive publicity. Fear of terrorism had killed dead the upper end of India's tourism. Yet how dangerous could India be if an ancient Brit could tour the subcontinent on a small motorcycle?
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p16
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 27, 2016, 09:15:20 AM
Memories come of riding for the first time after the crash. Dakar Motos is in a quiet Buenos Aires residential suburb. Lunchtime and the streets were empty. I managed half a dozen blocks at snail pace before returning to the workshop. Fourteen kilometres of thruway separated the workshop from my city-centre hotel.
Javier's wife, Sandra, watched as I dismounted.
"There's less traffic at the weekend,' Sandra said.
Is my fear visible now? And I need a helmet, side panniers.
The factory will be closed Sunday. But Saturday? Yes, the factory is open Saturday. The bike will be ready with its paperwork.
Saturday morning and the PR honcho supplies me with a silver helmet emblazoned with HONDA. HONDA similarly embellishes the back of a sleeveless jacket in thick blue denim. A photographer clicks away as I wobble a few timid circuits of the factory's parking lot. My progress is further immortalised on half a dozen mobile phones, pics to amuse middle management's offspring: Look at the fat old clown! A wheezing clown suffering from bronchitis. The driver of the hire car who has brought me to the factory will lead me back to the hotel.
"Slow," I order him for the umpteenth time.
Toll gates on India's highways have a bypass for bikes. I mislay the driver a the first gate. Maybe he decided to take a different road rather than pay. The traffic is thinner than I feared and I don't panic. Road signs lead to the city centre and Connaught Circus, then towards the railway station and a left on to the Grand Bazaar and the Jyoti Mahal. The hotel staff are pleasantly impressed...
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  pp27-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 28, 2016, 12:55:01 PM
Janasi is the next major town south, 95 kilometres. A dual carriageway is under construction. Stretches of the old road have been ripped apart. Renewed stretches are deep gravel waiting for tar and diversions are rutted dirt. I hate dirt and I hate gravel. Dust clouds envelop crazed bus drivers in their fight for primacy. Dumper trucks are as scary as maddened elephants. My little Honda slips and slithers. This is not a fun ride, yet elderly bikers speed by, no helmets, beards henna-red with dust; insouciant women ride pillion, faces veiled, an infant or two clutched in their arms. This is their normality. It is not mine. I want to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.
Terror is a lousy companion...
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p37
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 29, 2016, 08:47:44 AM
Francis rides north with me to Gwalior on his ancient Enfield Bullet, Miyuki on the pillion. The Enfield is slow and Francis mistrusts the engine. He worries that it is overheating, stops often; in the saddle, listens for malfunction, head cocked to the right and low. Meanwhile Miyuki is silent, only her eyes visible below her helmet. A pale blue scarf printed with tiny flowers covers the rest of her face. Gloves protect her hands.
In such company, my Honda Stunner seems a frisky racehorse as it bucks and bounces on the potholed diversions alongside the unfinished highway. It is more stable in the dirt than the Honda Cargo I rode the length of the Americas. I feel more confident in the saddle and the electric start is bliss - though, as expected, the seat is a pain in the butt.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p46
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 30, 2016, 07:44:01 AM
A Harley or Honda Goldwing might be permissible in the Usha Kiran Palace car park, possibly the biggest of BMWs - 125s are an embarrassment. Particularly when laced with umpteen bungee rubbers. My Stunner waits in the shade beside a flower bed raised against the perimeter wall. A splendidly uniformed guard, my equally splendid room steward and two gardeners have come to watch me mount. I try for nonchalance: a quick smile for all and swing the left leg over the gear. The leg won't swing that high. So much for nonchalance.
The gardeners lift the bike round against the raised flower bed. The steward steadies me as I mount the flower bed's retaining parapet. Over goes the leg and I settle myself on the saddle. The room steward hands me my helmet much as a Plantagenet squire might to a knight at the jousts. Press the button and the engine purrs. The guard salutes and off I wobble in search of the National Highway to Agra. Of course I get lost; Indian cities are confusing.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p48
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 02, 2016, 06:17:18 PM
We are stuck in Jaisalmer for four days. The engine on Francis's bike is in pieces. So is the gearbox. There has been much nodding during the disassembly, much pointing to this and that. Final conclusion waits on the elder brother's wife to translate. She is a business graduate and occupies a government office eight hours a day. An indeterminate number of indeterminate relatives share a modern house in the suburbs. Various bits of engine hide beneath beds and benches and the house smells of petrol. We have been invited to dinner - vegetarian, simple and lightly spiced. What and how we eat is of great interest. Everyone watches. Everyone smiles. Various women pass babies one to another. All conversation must go via the wife so conversation comes to a halt each time she goes to the kitchen.
We learn that her husband has developed various modifications for Enfields. What modifications is a mystery as the wife is no mechanic and her vocabulary is inadequate - however bikers ride even from Jodhpur to have their Enfields improved. Francis's bike is beyond improvement without a complete rebuild. It has been badly modified by a mechanic without understanding and the rebuild would take weeks as the parts must come from the factory in Chennai. Elder brother is returning the bike to normal and readjusting carburettor and timing. Francis should ride it slowly.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p70
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 03, 2016, 08:29:29 AM
I cruise at 90 kph and cut inland to avoid Mumbai - why risk bronchitis? I pull in beside a sextet of cops for directions on which road to take.
An officer asks my age. "Seventy-seven, seventy-eight next week." I show him my passport.
The cops hand my passport round, yak and laugh amongst themselves. They are giving me an advance birthday present: permission to ride up the Pune (or Poona) Expressway (illegal for bikes). The police tell me which exit to take, that the exit road leads to a T-junction where a restaurant on the corner serves good food. A little weird being the only biker on a six-lane highway, somehow vulnerable, defenceless - if that makes sense. Ignoring the restaurant strikes me as bad manners: a fresh lime and soda and a bowl of Mongolian soup.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p82
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 04, 2016, 10:41:19 AM
The country road from the Janjira ferry south twists through steep wooded hills and through river valleys - a glorious ride. I don't think of myself as a biker. I don't have the leathers or the decals. I've only changed a tyre once and I prefer paying a mechanic to adjust the chain. It's not laziness or incompetence, more that I enjoy watching a professional at his work and enjoy the usual crowd that frequents a bike mechanic's shop. Imagine those hours in Jaisalmer watching the Sikh brothers rebuild the antique Enfield's motor.
This is beginning to read as an apology for enjoying myself. Not so- simply that I am surprised at the fun I get from biking (given that I don't think of myself as a biker), and given that most people on the road (foreign or Indian) think that my riding a bike round India is remarkable. Most are surprised that I've survived. True, I was shocked the first couple of weeks. India's traffic obeys neither laws nor logic, however it does have a rhythm - or that's what I feel. Get with the rhythm and you enjoy the ride. Or perhaps the third fresh lime and soda has gone to my head. Maybe I should stick with beer.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p86
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 05, 2016, 08:51:38 AM
My Eicher road atlas is much admired by fellow travellers. Page 98 shows a small road south from Amboli to Ramghat, Bhedshi and Maneri where it joins the highway to Panjim, Goa's capital. The road starts well, single track but good tar, and runs across a rocky plateau through dense forest. The trees are small but the canopy is solid and a deep green. The air is fresh and scented. After the disappointment of Amboli, heaven. I check with a passing bicyclist: 'Ramghat?'
Negative. But what does he know?
Next, an elderly gentleman on a motorcycle: 'Ramghat? Panjim? Goa?'
Negative.
Perhaps he is stupid.
Two pedestrian countrymen wave me down. No need for words. Their gestures suffice. The road ends. Oh...
So ends prevarication. Backtrack down the escarpment to the NH17 and ride on across the state border into Goa.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 06, 2016, 08:33:36 AM
Today I am riding to Chennai from Mamallapuram at the behest of Motorcycle News. The editor I deal with has suggested a piece on the Royal Enfield factory. Royal Enfield is the last relic of the British motorcycle industry. The first motorcycle was produced at a factory in Redditch, Worcestershire, in 1901. The Chennai factory opened in 1955 to fulfil an Indian government order for 800 350cc Bullets. The British factory closed in 1967. Chennai prospers under the financial umbrella of the Eicher truck company. Manufacturing process competes with the bikes for antiquity in an immense tin shed with open eaves. Bikes are assembled by hand, no robots here. Prior to mounting in the chassis, an aged elf equipped with headphones and stethoscope runs each motor in a tiny cubicle. The paint shop is a paint mist; two men in overalls and masks are visible through a window as they spray-paint the gas tanks. A true artist adds in free-hand the golden line on the tanks.
Each bike is test ridden round the cinder track that surrounds the factory. Priority for any long-distance traveller is comfort and I bounce- test each model: 350cc and 500, military, classic, the new low rider single seat and dual. My favourite? The big broad single saddle mounted on coil springs.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  pp118-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 07, 2016, 10:01:50 AM
I rode a BSA Bantam in the early fifties. Cops were called Bobbies and patrolled on silent water-cooled Velocettes. Vincents were power with speed. Sunbeams were deluxe touring. AJS, Norton, all deceased and gone to Heaven. Royal Enfield in Redditch was a casualty. What miracle saved Royal Enfield here in Chennai?
"Why buy an Enfield?" is a reasonable question to ask the marketing manager over lunch.
His reply is as offbeat as hand-spraying gas tanks: There's no logical reason. Enfields are heavy. They're slow. They're not fuel-efficient.
"India's Hog," I suggest.
The marketing manager disagrees: In whatever company, Harleys always dominate. The Bullet becomes part of wherever it is.
I argue that the originals were British as fish and chips, the Bullet is now quintessentially Indian. Bullet Super Strong is India's most lethal beer. A temple in Rajasthan is dedicated to a Bullet. Remove the bike from the temple and it will be back by sunrise - so they say.
"So it is romantic," I insist. "The Morgan of the bike world."
Again the marketing manager demurs: Morgans are high-price status symbols. Bullets are workhorses. A horse rider feels the muscles bunch and flow and listens to the rhythm of the horse's breathing. The rider of the Bullet feels the beat of the engine and the slow glorious thump of the exhaust. Such is the Bullet's magic.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p119
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 08, 2016, 10:12:39 AM
I am a coward, particularly if threatened with an emotional confrontation.
Or when an unsilenced heavy machine gun fires a burst directly under my butt: tacka tacka tacka.
HELP!
I slow and the rate of fire slows.
I speed up, the rate of fire increases.
I pull in to the kerb and the firing stops. I am riding a Honda 125. Honda 125s never break down. This article of faith supported me on my exploration of the Americas - 66,000 kilometres. It has supported me on this journey through India - 11,000 kilometres. Now fear hits. Real fear. Or belly-emptying anxiety (which is fear, surely?).
Tacka tacka tacka fires the machine gun as I creep into a gas station. Hell and damnation.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p128
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 09, 2016, 12:43:35 PM
I come to a halt and rev the engine. No machine gun, so the engine is OK. It must be the gearbox. I dismount and heave the bike on to its stand. I look at the gearbox. My knowledge of gearboxes could be written on the point of a very, very thin needle and looking doesn't help. I touch the gearbox tentatively with a fingertip. Touching tells me nothing. I look at the two gas pump attendants. Surely one of them can wave a wand?
The smaller of the two grins and points at my rear wheel. An eight-inch nail sticks out of the tread. I put the bike into gear. The rear wheel spins. The nail strikes the rear mudguard: tacka tacka tacka. I suffer from the sin of pride.
Not always, but on occasion. Hey, I'm nearly 80 and look at me, brrrm brrrm on a cafe racer round India. Kneeling in the gas station forecourt is an act of humility. The pump attendants and a few drivers and bike riders watch as I waggle the eight-inch nail out of the tyre. The tyre is not punctured. Not so my pride... Such is the punishment for my momentary lack of faith. Remember, Old Man, Honda 125s never ever break down.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p128
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 10, 2016, 09:29:24 AM
The track to Help Tourism's camp is to the left on the final bend before the village. The manager assures me that the track is very bad, better take the bike in the pick-up. As if I can't cope... I'll show him.
The track runs along the side of the mountain through magnificent pine forest. The first few hundred metres are compressed dirt. Easy. Turn a bend and I face a climb over large smooth stones, first gear, bumpity bump bump bump. The stones kick the front wheel. Stay loose is the secret. Let the bike pick its own way as you would with a horse. A smooth stretch follows then more stones and a steep descent. Imagine a mountain stream without water. Downhill is always worse. Put both feet down, you lose the rear brake and begin to slide. Grab the front brake and you're on your butt. So, however scared, you have to keep going- which isn't easy when faced with a right-angle bend. The camp is 12 kilometres down the track. Twelve kilometres and 90 minutes- enough time get accustomed to the conditions and gain faith in your ability and the bike's ability. Fun?
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  pp141-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 11, 2016, 09:50:14 AM
The valley narrows and the road zigzags steeply down to a bridge. Horror lies beyond the bridge. The road is being widened. Diggers and bulldozers have churned the surface into a mud and rock wallow. Kilometre follows kilometre of feet down and first gear. Simply keeping the bike upright is a struggle. The mountainside is almost sheer. One slip and down I go and heights scare me - or, rather, the fear of falling. Up ahead a worker waves a red flag.
My friends gather round while we wait, light cigarettes, ask if I am OK, suggest I ride in the Suzuki, one of them ride the bike. I long to agree. Pride stops me. Fear of being thought feeble, not a real man, a scaredy cat. The 'man thing' that women instantly recognise. Surely to God he cant be that stupid. Yes, he is...
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p156
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 12, 2016, 09:17:57 AM
The first few kilometres are bad as in a few potholes. No problem. This is an adventure. I feel good. Weep for the unwary...
The major is Special Forces. Special Forces jump off cliffs for fun. They wrestle tigers, skydive, speed-march deserts, ski black runs with full backpack and sub-machine gun. Special Forces bad is bad. I am in mud. Deep mud. Boulders camouflaged by mud. Two hours to cover the first 10 kilometres is good progress. My survival is luck and following locals on bikes - though two locals fall, mud head to foot.
This is not fun.
This is scary.
Riding from Gangtok to Lachen I had the excuse of not knowing what was ahead. Here I was warned. I know full well that I am an idiot in not turning back. I am aware that I am repeating the idiocy that earned me a smashed ankle in Tierra del Fuego. However I remain what I was then: a brain-dead septuagenarian teenager. And turning back makes for a pathetic last hurrah. Surely to God the road must improve. I am not too far from the first hills. Reach the hills and think again.
An Indian Love Affair  Simon Gandolfi  p177
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 13, 2016, 08:46:10 PM
"What are you doing?" Manuel asked.
"I'm going to travel around the world on my motorcycle," I responded casually. On that particular trip to Brazil I had suffered from hunger. My adventurous spirit had then made me realize it could be hungry while still travelling to other exotic locations, seeing other cultures, and meeting other people. I never second-guessed my decisions back then, so once I had made up my mind, I put my decisions to work. That was my nature, and I couldn't change even if those decisions lead to trouble.
Manuel couldn't believe what he was hearing. He asked the same question again, and again received the same answer.
"I'm suffering on this trip. What's the difference if I suffer here, or somewhere else?"
Most would call me crazy, or thought it was stupid to try to make a trip like that without money. However, I had made my decision, and no one would change my mind.
"You either do things, or you don't!"  I said enthusiastically, successfully convincing myself. Apparently these words also convinced my Brazilian friend, for he immediately asked if he could join me.
As I finished painting the words "Around the World" in various languages on my bike's fender, I explained to Manual how hard this little adventure would be with practically no money.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p33
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 14, 2016, 10:10:27 PM
"Would you like to appear on television?" a well dressed man asked us on one of the city streets.
"In exchange for what?" I asked without hesitation.
"Well, you tell me," the man replied.
"How about three days in a hotel, food included."
"No problem," the man quickly agreed.
"It's a deal," I told him, hand outstretched, sealing the with a firm handshake.
Using the media was something we had hoped and planned for to help us along our trip... a way to eat and rest well before taking on a new day. We also planned to visit canned food companies and gas station central offices to ask for assistance, almost as if this was our daily job.
Everywhere we went that had a TV, we heard announcers promoting the upcoming appearance of the two motorcyclists that were travelling around the world. We felt  almost famous.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p51
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 15, 2016, 09:38:24 PM
September 28,1964
Villazon. We experienced our first mechanical failure with the rupture of the generator. We needed a repair shop, but the townspeople warned us that the owner of the only garage in town had died and it was now being run by his 10 year old daughter.
Being our only option, we had no choice. We took the Indian to the shop. To our surprise, the little girl was an expert and had us all fixed up in no time!
September 29,1964
We're still in Villazon. We met a friendly Lebanese boy whose family owns a small Lebanese restaurant I guess we came across likeable since he invited us to eat there for free.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p53
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 16, 2016, 08:35:25 AM
Luckily, another biker happened by and stopped to talk to us.
"Are you OK?" he asked.
"We're alive," I answered, "So yeah... we're OK."
What happened to your bike?" he asked as he eyed the gaping hole in the oil tank.
"A bullet. You know where we can get it fixed? We don't have any money," I stated.
"I have a friend who owns a garage. Follow me."
"How far is it? Can we push the bike there?"
"It's only three blocks away. I'm sure he can help you."
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p59
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 17, 2016, 05:08:44 PM
We arrived exhausted after pushing the heavy Indian more than the three blocks our new friend had told us.
"Herreria Chepe's Garage" was painted on an old piece of rusted tin, and the makeshift sign also listed the services offered. Among them we saw the one we needed... welding.
"Hey Jose," our new friend Pedro called out. "These two guys are going around the world on that motorcycle, but their oil tank got shot today. They need a favor... and free."
Jose, also a biker, looked at the huge hole in the tank and said, "We can patch that up. It won't be pretty, but I can weld a piece of metal over the hole so it doesn't leak."
"As long as it's free and doesn't leak, I could care less what it looks like," I said, accepting his generous offer.
After that Good Samaritan fixed us up and we refilled our oil, we lost interest in looking for the address of our two Argentine acquaintances. We thanked Pedro and Jose and decided to continue west.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p59
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 18, 2016, 08:01:53 AM
As soon as we had arrived in Quito, a man approached me and called me by name. I didn't recognize him, but he knew who I was.
"Hello, Carlos," the stranger called.
"Hello," I responded. "Do I know you?"
"No, you don't know me, but I know of your journey," he responded.
"How?"
"I'm a ham radio operator and I communicate with Uruguay regularly. Other hams have told me about you guys."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, then," I said as I shook his hand.
"Pleasure's all mine! My name's Raul. If you'd like, tonight we can go to my house and you can contact Uruguay."
"Sure!" I replied happily. "Just give us directions and we'll be there!"
Ham radio was the only direct form of communication we had to our families. Sure, we had letters we would send or receive at all the Uruguayan consulates in all the capital cities, but they took forever to go from one point to another.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani pp70-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 19, 2016, 09:30:07 PM
Much later I found out that when the aftermarket front fork of the Indian snapped that fateful day, we were riding at about 60 miles per hour, taking advantage of the paved road. At that speed, any minor mechanical fault can turn into tragedy. The weight on the rear of the bike helped keep it from turning end over end. I instinctually applied what I had learned from my days racing... hold on tight to the handlebars and use the bike's mass as a shield against collisions with other racers. Even though I was unconscious, I never let go of the handlebars. The Indian had fallen on its right side and Manuel and I slid for 58 yards. When the fork had snapped, the bike lost its front wheel, and my body lurched forward. The camera that was hanging around my neck had smashed against the bullet box mounted between the handlebars, breaking three of my ribs and causing me to lose consciousness. We were alone with no way to call for help. My body was still, showing serious injuries in the face, right leg, and both arms. Manuel's right hand was rubbed raw where he tried to block his fall. Eduardo, who had witnessed the entire accident, cried and hugged me, fearing for my life. The Indian was on the ground, missing its front wheel and with its front forks totally destroyed.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p85
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 21, 2016, 02:59:16 PM
I was hospitalised for a total of 17 days so I was thrilled to finally get to see my old Indian at the garage. The police in Panama used Harley Davidsons and they informed that it was impossible to order Indian parts, but they would give me a Harley fork in hopes that I could adapt it to the Indian. I had to use my mechanical knowledge to bring her back to life.
The first step was to make two bushings with certain specifications. I made some sketches and went out looking for a machine shop with a lathe. I found one a few blocks away. The owner was napping on a comfy chair under the shade of a lush tree.
"How much would you charge me to make these two bushings?" I asked, handing him my drawings.
"10 balboas," he replied sleepily.
"10 balboas! This should only take 10 minutes," I said, trying to score a better deal.
"I can give you the material and you can do it yourself for 5..."
"Deal!"
His shop was old. All the machines were powered by a single electric motor and the pulleys moved with flat leather straps. The lathe was so old that the screws were threaded backwards from what was common in a modern machine shop. I was still able to fashion the bushings, but it certainly took longer than 10 minutes. The new Harley fork was ready and came out better than I had expected. We were ready to continue our journey.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani pp90-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 22, 2016, 09:56:01 PM
As we entered the city that hot afternoon, a motorcycle cop, sporting a powerful and new Harley Davidson, pulled us over, lights flashing, sirens blaring.
"Is there a problem, officer?" I asked nervously.
"Not at all. I stopped you out of curiosity. Where are you coming from?" he asked.
"Well, we departed from Brazil, and as you can see, we've travelled through many other countries on the way."
"Where are you from?"
"Manuel is Brazilian, Eduardo is Peruvian, and I'm Uruguayan," I responded.
"Let's go get a drink," the policeman offered.
"Sure," I accepted, not even bothering to ask my riding companions. We parked all three bikes on the side of the road, and crossed the street to a nearby bar. After a few drinks, and a few more stories of our trip, the cop asked us to follow him to the Federal District Motorized Police Station. We were introduced to his commanding officer, who graciously offered us a room in their barracks.
This place was amazing. It contained four hundred motorcycles belonging to a number of different squads. Each squad was headed by a commander with twenty officers under him. We were surrounded by bikers who could identify with us, and felt a deep camaraderie with these fellow motorcycle enthusiasts. I was starting to believe that Mexican people are just naturally friendly.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani pp101-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 23, 2016, 01:02:27 PM
We spent our first night in our quarters, and early in the morning we were awakened by one of the commanders inviting us to breakfast with his squadron. The Indian soon found herself rolling alongside twenty new Harleys on our way to a mouth-watering breakfast at a nearby restaurant.
Once there, I began telling my repertoire of jokes, much to the delight of the friendly cops. This occurred every day with a different squad, becoming a daily laugh-filled ritual. The Federal District Motorized Police were a close-knit family, infinitely friendly and hospitable, and with a great sense of humor.
There we met an older man who used a cane for feeling his way around as he walked. He was the head mechanic and he was completely blind. I can't remember his name, but I remember his face, and certainly his amazing skill. He was able to completely disassemble, assemble, and repair any Harley by touch alone. His ability solidified a lesson for us... any obstacles we may face in life can be overcome by hard work and courage. This man was an inspiration.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani pp102-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 25, 2016, 08:54:44 AM
We looked stunned when they began taking apart my Indian, taking brand new parts from their original boxes and building a new motor and gearbox. I looked on curiously as they put a white creamy substance on all the parts before assembling them. They later put the bottom part of the engine into a machine that would spin the engine at a predetermined speed for a predetermined amount of time. Then they removed the parts from the machine, disassembled everything, washed all the components and put it all back together again.
I asked what that was about, and they told me it was how they "softened" the engine. I realized then that the United States had more advanced technology, and an incredible order and cleanliness.
In three days, the Indian had been completely transformed. It had a new motor and transmission, a tank without a bullet hole, new sprockets and tires, a re-upholstered seat, and it had even been repainted in its original color. The Indian was never in better shape, and this incredible gift seemed like a dream come true.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p124
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 26, 2016, 09:06:22 AM
After two nights of rest, I went to the port of Saint John's for the final leg of my North American travels, and where I would embark to Ireland. I had my ticket paid for, but I had to negotiate the Indian's passage.
"For the motorcycle, do you charge by weight or by size?" I asked the man on duty.
"By size," he responded.
I immediately grabbed some tools and started to take apart my bike. I removed the large box that held all my belongings and took that with me as my luggage. I removed the windshield and tied it to the Indian's side. I loosened the handlebars and tilted them down. I even removed air from the tires. With all these modifications, I was able to save $70, which represented many meals or gallons of gasoline in Europe.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani pp176-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 27, 2016, 09:26:41 AM
March 22,1966
This is a paradise surrounded by snow. I arrived at a campground in Berne last night and found my host to be a very friendly old woman who let me stay in a cabin for a ridiculously low price. I'm now sitting at the foot of the wood stove, a couple of dry logs burning within, and I feel like a king.
Last night, after settling in, my host brought piece of cake and a cup of hot chocolate, which restored the life in me that had been slowly draining by the four days of torrential downpours and accumulated snow on the roads.
There are good people in the world, and I feel compelled to write this down so I won't forget it tomorrow, or ever.
I'll stay another day here, enjoying the hospitality and recharging for the rest of my trip. Tomorrow I plan to head to Italy since it's snowing hard and I'm afraid they'll close the borders.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p194
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 28, 2016, 09:06:24 AM
The watch that Helena had given me in Mexico showed that I was running late for my meeting with Albert at 3pm at the Piazza del Popolo. I asked for directions, and my Indian began to cruise in and out of the Roman traffic, surprising people due to its sheer size and capacity. Large motorcycles were not common in Europe yet from what I had noticed, so my Indian always called attention to itself.
I reached the Piazza del Popolo, making good time, and while sitting on my bike a man came up to me and asked how many cubic centimeters my engine was. I told him and he turned and enthusiastically yelled, "Nino! Nino! Twelve-hundred! It's twelve-hundred!" He couldn't believe that in the land of the Fiat 500 there could possibly be a motorcycle with more than double the engine size as the automobile.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani pp202-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 29, 2016, 12:07:25 PM
One morning, as had become my routine, I stepped out onto the balcony and stared down to the street to check on the Indian. To my utter shock and horror, she was gone. Stolen. My heart was pounding from panic, anger, and sadness. I couldn't help but think that it had to be a group of thieves that had stolen it because it would take many men to be able to lift a bike of that size onto a truck. It would have been nearly impossible for them to start the bike since I had rigged it with three hidden electrical bridges that needed to be switched on before the starter would even work. It was my own anti-theft system, made specifically to prevent things like this from happening.
Confident in my modifications, I immediately went out looking for the bike in the nearby Roman neighborhoods. Sure enough, I found her not far from the apartment, abandoned on a side street. Needless to say, I was ecstatic that my little electrical tricks had done their job. It was obvious they had dragged the motorcycle a few blocks with the intention of starting it and riding away. Since they could not figure out how to get it running, they gave up.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p204
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 30, 2016, 12:38:49 PM
June 14,1966
Today we crossed the equator. To celebrate, crew members sorted through passengers looking for anyone who wanted to sing or could play an instrument.
When they came to our cabin asking if we wanted to participate in the celebration, both me and my cabin mate Jerome declined. After they left, I commented to Jerome that I used to play the "bandoneon", an accordion-like instrument, as a child, but that I highly doubted there was one on board, or that I would even remember how to play anything after 13 years of not picking one up.
Jerome looked at me incredulously, and said, "My name is Jerome Baires, the first bandoneon player to Francisco Canaro, and I'm returning from concerts in Asia and Europe. There... below bunk..." he pointed.  "There are two instruments."
I picked one up and laid it on my lap and began playing "La Cumparsita" as if it was 13 years ago. Jerome picked up the other bandoneon and joined me.
The series of coincidences for this to occur are mesmerizing... sharing a room with a famous musician who happened to have two bandoneons with him, picking one up like time had never passed, playing together on an Argentine ship where musicians were being sought to join in the celebration of crossing the equator.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani pp220-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 31, 2016, 09:03:28 AM
On Thursday, I took Rolf to the border of Montevideo as he planned to continue north. We said our goodbyes with heartfelt hug and I wished him well on his own adventure. I then turned around and rode back home as it was starting to get dark.
The weekend arrived and I planned to take a short trip to Punta del Este. I was starting to feel the hunger for the road again, and these quick jaunts afforded me the time to reminisce about my adventurous journey.
I reached Solymar when a policeman, also on motorcycle, pulled me over for riding with a large box attached to the rear fender. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I felt like telling him to piss off, but instead I proceeded to tell him that my Indian, that box, and I had travelled 26 countries over two continents, and during the entire two years of that trip, not a single person had told us that we weren't allowed to ride with a box attached to the rear fender. I showed him my stamp-filled passport, along with my journal filled with foreign newspaper clippings about my voyage. The cop, red with embarrassment, let me go.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p225
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 01, 2016, 09:09:42 AM
It's me, your motorcycle,
my skinny friend, old vagabond.
Showing you the world,
many countries, and beyond.

I'm the one that you bought,
with money tucked away.
The one that shared with you,
wild Bohemian days.

I'm the one at your side,
on those cold rainy nights.
Watching you sleep,
waiting for light.

The journey then ends,
coming home, winding down.
How we have grown side by side,
mile by mile, town by town!

And now marching north,
American dream in your sights.
No more room for old friends,
Cast aside, price was right.
 
From your hands to a stranger's,
his chest puffed with pride.
But I'm sorry old friend,
I'll miss your touch when we ride!

And there will be others,
that last many more years.
My mechanics are faulty,
but I can still shed a tear.

In your mind I'm a memory,
of mad, crazy years,
Of wishing and dreaming,
of knowing no fear!

We peel back the memories,
both happy and sad.
The struggles... successes...
all the times that we had!

I speak to you now,
because of what we have shared.
Now I'm old, past my prime,
My soul I have bared.
 
It's me, your motorcycle,
my skinny friend, old vagabond.
Let's meet up again
and go further beyond!
 
- Your Indian Chief

Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani pp227-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 02, 2016, 09:15:28 AM
I had to walk long and far to realize that those fancy tourists on the French Riviera were not enjoying themselves more than I was, travelling on my old motorcycle with little money. I learned that life is what we make of it, and money does not provide happiness, it simply provides comfort. These two things can easily be separated. We can be rich and unhappy, or poor and happy.
What's important is that we enjoy every moment we have right now, since these moments are fleeting, and they will mean nothing once the time arrives to leave this Earth. Life will occasionally give us a wake-up call so that we realize that advantage must be taken of every opportunity that is offered.
We, as humans, often take for granted the little things in life that surround us every day because they are either too close to us to notice, or they are too easily obtained. A blooming flower, a full moon, twinkling stars at night, a calm or enraged sea, the horizon... that distant horizon we continue to watch from the tracks we have laid in our lifetimes... a symbol that there is always something more...
Hopes... dreams... just beyond our reach.
Tracks And Horizons  Carlos Caggiani p240
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 03, 2016, 09:11:47 AM
Cal. Drag bike racer.
So when we split up for the first time, when I sent her home, I got me a bike. I got me a Triumph and dressed it all out and everything. Beautiful, beautiful chopper. Went back to Florida and I still had my bike. I was going back and forth to work on it and everything. I kept my bike, in other words, when we went back together. And so times were getting tough and so I just- I sold my bike to pay for stuff for the house 'cause I wasn't working. Work is rotten in Florida. And so times were getting good again now. I got a good job and everything and I'm makin' out, coins in the bank, you know, and I say, well, honey, I think I'll trip down and get a bike. Some piece of junk that I can tinker with. So that's when my old lady says, you know, like, you ain't gettin' no bike. And if you get one it's all over again. The whole thing, you know. So I got salty about that, 'cause, see, I gave up my bike, man. I didn't have to give it up, man. She didn't tell me to get rid of it or anything. I gave it up 'cause we needed coins. And here we got coins again, well, I think I should have my bike. Right? Or else why should I have gotten rid of my first one, you know, the one in the beginning?
The Bikeriders  Danny Lyon  p64
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 04, 2016, 10:37:23 AM
Rodney Pink. Motorcycle racer.
Everyone wants to be part of something. You want to carry a flag or wear an emblem or do something. I've seen this in my own club. People wanted to join my club because it has a reputation, a good reputation. Just they don't want responsibility or work. They just want to be part of something. And, you know, be able to forget it or just take it or leave it. And generally people that join most of the outlaw style of club are that sort of person. They want to be part of something and yet they don't have the initiative. They don't want to do anything. They do don't want to have any responsibility unloaded on 'em. Like an outlaw club will almost, almost I say, never promote anything. Maybe a dance is the biggest thing they'll do. You know, if they happen to dig it. Because as soon as you promote something, people get burdened with jobs. They have to take away from their baseball games and something like that. The average person that goes in for that sort of club is very low on initiative and high on talk. In my club you're constantly hung with a job. But you don't wear the colors unless you're working for it. And when you wear the colors you really feel like you're doing something.
The Bikeriders  Danny Lyon  p67
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 05, 2016, 06:08:17 PM
Funny Sonny, twenty-eight. Ex-Hell's Angel. Member Chicago Outlaws.
And when I came up, there was this, you know these little caterpillars that fly through the air? They soar through the air from tree to tree on webs, on a little web. One musta got caught in my hair, a long green one. Musta been the size of a good pencil. So here's Aggie, all the girls fixin' food, they're all eatin' and I walk over there with this caterpillar. And I put it on my tongue. Now if you ever tried to swallow a caterpillar, what you gotta do, there's a thing to swallowing a caterpillar. You know how they're barred, like how you say it? They're barred a little bit, like you can't go against the grain on 'em or something. That's how they use themselves to crawl along the ground. Well, you face him out. Face him out on your tongue. So he's crawling forward. And then you gotta put him way back on your tongue. And then try to swallow him. He gets down here, he starts crawling back up. 'Cause by now he's hanging on. He knows he's on his way down. He's gonna hang on for dear life. And Aggie seen all this. Now I swallow, the caterpillar is gone out of sight. Open my mouth, show everyone he's gone. Then I know he's crawling, I can feel him crawling back up my throat, see. So I got my mouth closed, and you know, it's closed and everybody's eating. And I'm at the table and everybody's eating, we're talking and I open my mouth just a little tiny bit and this little caterpillar comes crawling out of my mouth. About four people got sick see, then I yelled to everybody, I said, ah, you get away from me, caterpillar. So I crunched my teeth down on him and I chewed him up and I swallowed. So I had a lot of food to eat that day. Everybody got up and quit eating their food. Sheesh, that was good. That's when I really met the Outlaws, really met 'em good.
The Bikeriders  Danny Lyon  p71
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 06, 2016, 12:23:21 PM
Bobby Goodpaster sixteen. Motorcycle racer.
Some guy came in and bought a new bike and traded off his old bike and it was in a basket. It was a 175 Harley, all taken apart, completely. And he says, you can have that if you put it together. It was all in a basket so I took it. Well, it took me half a year to get it together, but I got it all together all by myself. He didn't help me a bit. I did every bit of it, and I got it running, and I used to ride up here all over the place, and then he sold it, you know. I was crying and everything, and he says, well, I'll get you another one pretty soon. So he got me a mini-bike, automatic clutch and everything. Boy I really thought I was  something with that thing.
The Bikeriders  Danny Lyon  p79
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 07, 2016, 09:04:37 AM
Frank Jenner, age 25.
So I came up to a stop sign. And stopped. That blew the cop's mind. It was a lieutenant that was following me and I couldn't lose him. That blew his mind. He didn't even stop. He crashed right into me. He smashes the rear fender out, but fortunately, you know, I could tell at the last second he was going to crash so I had already gunned it again. So he crashes in the fender, but it doesn't quite hit the wheel and we go up in a wheelie down East Avenue. In each gear I haven't got time to shut off the throttle, so there are the two of us, going down East Avenue on a wheelie. I just about get going in third gear and look up ahead and here are these three more county sheriff cars. Before there had only been the Brighton cops and the city cops. But now the third, the county black, big black county sheriff. And they're coming down the road three abreast. A flying wedge. I swear to God. And they're a whole bunch of 'em coming up on me from behind too, man. I hear the cycle cop off in the distance. And the curbs are too high to jump, you know. So it was a nice kind of residential area. I just said, this is it, went over, and parked the bike and waited for 'em to catch up to me.
The Bikeriders  Danny Lyon  p83
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 08, 2016, 09:02:06 AM
First things first. If I was going to travel the length of Route 66, I needed the right kind of transportation. A sleek saloon car would have been too dull; a 4x4 too plush. In many people's eyes Route 66 requires either a convertible or a fat Harley-Davidson. But neither seemed right for me.
I did my time on bikes in my youth, but I felt that like most other things of joy, the motorbike had become lifestyled and corporatised, a packaged form of rebellion of which I wanted no part. So, with the Chicago skyline looming in the distance, in a dirty backstreet squeezed between semi-derelict buildings and empty spaces strewn with boulders and rubbish, I met my steed. One hundred horsepower of mean, throbbing heavenliness: a Boom Lowrider LR8 Muscle. Officially, it was a trike, but for some reason I'd never been able to say that word. I'd always said 'bike'. Whatever I called it, though, it was a thing of absolute beauty.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  p27
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 09, 2016, 09:16:42 AM
I'd already had a great time in Atlanta, then things got even better. Having broken the banjo badge I usually wear on my lapel, I went into a shop to buy a new one. It was a funky wee shop, full of esoterica and built with Route 66 travellers in mind. The owner, Gene, who was a really friendly guy, had heard I was on a bike and asked me about it.
"Actually, I'm on a trike," I said.
"Can I see it?" I let Gene sit on the trike - because he asked me nicely - then he invited me to his home. He said I could visit any time I liked and that he'd take me up in his aeroplane. I'm very tempted to return to Atlanta just for that. We returned to his store and I bumped into a woman from York. She'd been following me around because her sister was a huge fan, and she asked for an autograph. When I'd finished writing a wee note and signing it, she thanked me, then dug something out of her bag.
"Here's some decent tea," she said, holding out four Yorkshire teabags. "You'll have trouble getting a decent cup of tea as you go along Route 66."
I don't recall ever meeting so many nice people in such a short space of time. Atlanta was an absolute joy.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  pp103-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 10, 2016, 08:50:01 AM
For the first time since leaving Chicago, I was back on an interstate. Riding in torrential rain, it was quite heart-stopping at times, especially when passing trucks. With the spray and the shit flying everywhere, it was tough going. And as I've said, I'm a poser, so I don't believe in riding in the rain. I don't want to be wringing out my underwear every time I stop. I've seen some guys who are even prepared to ride in the snow, but that's a different trip. That's pure sado-masochism. I like the fun of bikes. And this was no fun.
But I made it to Springfield. It was a totally crap night by the time I reached the hotel, but I told myself that something good would come of it. I'm a great believer in carrying on and not stopping just because it's raining.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  p104
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 11, 2016, 11:38:36 AM
The rain battered down, drenching me until I was freezing wet and shivering. Then, mercifully, Mike, the director, offered to take over on the bike. He rode twice the distance that I did and was nearly drowned by the spray of passing trucks. It was terrifying. Driving along on a three-wheeler with your arse eighteen inches off the ground as forty-ton trucks come whooshing past is not fun. It's not a game for children at all. But Mike did it, and we all arrived in St Louis to tell the tale, so I was a happy boy. It felt like a good day's hard work.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  p140
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 12, 2016, 10:54:46 AM
Fortunately, my mood, which had got more than a bit dark at the cemetery, immediately lightened as I rode west from St Louis and Route 66 entered some of the most pleasant, verdant country along its entire length. Scenic wooded drives through hills and valleys, far from the superslab of Interstate 44, gave a tantalising impression of what riding the road must have been like in its heyday. But the weather was still remarkably turgid and dreich (a Scottish word for dreary) as I pulled up at my next stop, a wolf sanctuary in Eureka, Missouri.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  pp172-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 13, 2016, 12:18:23 PM
Wiley's a perfectly pleasant man and he gave me the full guided tour, but I couldn't summon up much interest. In fact, as I listened to him talking about oil and the process of getting it out of the ground, I almost lost the will to live. That might seem ironic, given that there would be no Route 66 without oil, but it just held no fascination for me.
So I said goodbye to him, got back on my bike, and headed for Oklahoma City, which was still about ninety miles away. It was a harsh ride: long, straight roads pointing all the way to the horizon. Whenever I crested a hill, the road would stretch out in front of me again, as long and as straight as the previous stretch. The monotony and emptiness were quite extraordinary, and by the time I reached Oklahoma City I was ready for dinner, bed and a long sleep.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  p238
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 14, 2016, 09:41:41 AM
The road was dying. Nevertheless, some wonderful people were trying to keep it alive, and in some places they were succeeding. In others, like Shamrock, they most certainly were not.
The next morning, I asked the waitress if I could have two fried eggs over easy and some bacon. It seemed a fairly modest request, but she just shrugged and said I could only have what was on the menu. The choice was between some old thing that looked like an omelette or some wee shrivelled sausages - or both - served on a polystyrene plate with white plastic knives and forks and a polystyrene cup of coffee. Anyone who travels Route 66 needs to prepare themselves for a bit of that on the road. And if, like me, they're a bit spoiled, it gets hellish.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  p254
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 15, 2016, 08:52:43 AM
I have a bit of a problem with art deco buildings in general.  They're interesting when you drive past, but that tends to be the end of the story. Take the Hoover Building in West London. Everybody raves about it, but how many of them have been within five feet of it? They've all seen it from a car, but then whoom, they're past it. That's fine - no one needs to go up and lick it to like it. But art deco lovers get on my tits. They're the kind of people who read Lord of the Rings and like movies about little ginky punkies attacking wanky wonkies. I wouldn't let my corpse be taken to a movie like that. And I feel pretty much the same about art deco. It's for dead people. You'd be amazed at the number of funeral parlours that are art deco. That's all I have to say on the subject.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  pp255-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 16, 2016, 09:54:56 AM
Fighting the jammed throttle, I spun out of control. The bike wheeled around, somersaulted, then bounced off me. The big rear wheels went right over the top of me and something slammed into my ribs. My knee thumped hard into a crunch of bone and flesh on tarmac. Then I was lying on my back, staring at the sky. As I lay there, I wondered just how much damage I'd done to myself.
Desperate to stand up and just get on with it - because, of course, I'm a man of steel, a real hero - I was immediately told not to move, to stay absolutely still. Mike, the director insisted that I must continue to lie down. He wouldn't even loosen my bloody helmet, the bastard.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  p298
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 17, 2016, 11:13:22 AM
Unlike the steam trains of my childhood, the big locomotive I met in Williams was powered by vegetable oil - like a gigantic fish supper - which was towed in a stainless-steel tanker behind it. Donated by all the restaurants and fast-food joints in Williams, the smell of the oil was something else. One moment there might be a whiff of fish, then it was kind of meaty, then veggie. But it was always a million times better than diesel.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  p334
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 18, 2016, 06:38:25 AM
Ever since I'd started my journey on Route 66, I'd noticed a lot of people riding next to me on hired Harleys. Frankly, I'd grown to dislike them. Big, chrome-covered monsters, to me they had begun to look more like tourist buses with every passing day. The people who rented them were okay. Many of them were early retirement guys in search of freedom and escape after decades of hard work. But I also had a sense that they were buying into that corporate image of Route 66 that I mentioned at the start of the book. They all seemed to think that it had to be ridden on a Harley or driven in a red convertible. And that sort of corporatisation was exactly what killed the Mother Road. It had transformed the drive from Chicago to Los Angeles from a cobbled-together passage through small towns with family businesses into a sanitised procession along freeways interspersed with strip malls, fast-food chains and plastic motels.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  p348
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 19, 2016, 06:08:08 AM
For the very last time, I swung my leg over my trusty steed - the trike that had carried me more than two thousand miles from Chicago. Then I slipped into the traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard and rode towards the setting sun. I enjoyed every second, every yard of it, but I remained very vigilant because I didn't want a repetition of an incident that had occurred a few hours earlier, when I was nearly wiped out on the Pasadena Freeway. Out of nowhere, a lunatic had veered towards me from my right-hand side and missed my front wheel by inches. Any closer and he certainly would have killed me. No doubt about it. I would have been mincemeat.   
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  pp378-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 20, 2016, 10:45:41 PM
Route 66 means many things to many people. Everyone who travels along it experiences it in their own unique way. For the dust bowl Okies, it was a road of escape and hope. For the beatniks, it was a road of self-discovery. For many millions, it was a road of new beginnings. For countless others, it was a road of romantic adventure.
I still wasn't quite sure what it was for me. It was too soon to assess such a long and varied journey. I needed time to take it all in, sift through my memories and work out just what Route 66 was really all about. But I already knew for sure that it had been quite different from the Route 66 I'd had in my head before starting my journey in Chicago. Some parts of it had been wonderfully alive; others had been alarmingly close to death; a few had already gone for ever.
Thinking back over the many miles I'd covered, the constantly shifting landscape had certainly made a deep impression. The deserts, the prairies, the hills and the canyons are unforgettable. But it was the people I'd met along the way who I would carry in my heart for ever: Mervin the Amish carpenter, Elmer and his bottle trees, Angel the barber, Roxann in the ghost town of Glenrio, and defiant Preston in Bronzeville.
Billy Connolly's Route 66  Billy Connolly  p380
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 21, 2016, 05:21:58 PM
Simon [Pavey] sat me down on a sunny strip of mountainside grass for a pep talk. "I'm going to do it scientifically rather than having a rant and a rave," he said, "because there was a load of good stuff in the last couple of months, but I think there is definitely stuff we've still got to sort out.
"One of them is your mental attitude. The Dakar is all about mental strength. I've seen some awesome enduro riders get out there and fail because they haven't the mental strength and determination. I've also seen average riders go out there and make a name for themselves because they just don't give up.
"We've still got a couple of months to improve and we've got nine days in Dubai coming up. We'll all get loads from training in the Dubai dunes, but the one thing - the hardest thing - is to get a hunger in your heart so strong that you don't listen to the voice in your head shouting that it wants to stop."
"Mental attitude ..." I said, feeling rather small.
"Yup, mental attitude," Simon said. "If you want that finisher's medal."
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p48
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 22, 2016, 08:25:42 AM
Olly, my daughters and Russ were all watching as Lee finished his first two laps in a very good time of less than two hours before sending me out on to the track.
Expecting me to take twice as long, they were all shocked when I did my first lap only nine minutes slower than Lee and my second lap faster than Lee had ridden his first lap.
With two steep hills and a large boggy stretch, the course had just about every type of terrain that the Welsh hills could throw at a rider, but I was taking it all in my stride and not getting ground down. When I first started riding off-road I crawled along the gravel road sections of courses, using them to get my breath back because I was so exhausted. But now I was pegging it along the gravel at 50 or 60mph, power-sliding around corners.
Steep hills that previously would have had me paddling with my feet, dragging the bike up the slope or hanging on for dear life, while better riders danced their bikes past me, weren't such a challenge any more. Now I was the one sailing up inclines, popping the bike from bump to bump, lifting a hand to wave at other riders as I passed them.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  pp52-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 23, 2016, 08:58:37 AM
I needn't have worried so much. Riding on sand for the first time next day, I was surprised at how easy it could be. Moving off was difficult, but as soon as I built up speed and the wheels lifted onto the surface of the sand, it was like piloting a speedboat across waves. At low speeds it was difficult to turn or gain any sense of control, but above a certain speed the bike felt sharp and responsive as it planed across the sand. The trick was to lean back and use my foot pegs to manipulate the bike, swinging and power-sliding the back of the bike around corners, rather than using the front wheel to turn, which was completely counterproductive - when twisted, the front wheel became a bulldozer.
I tumbled off the bike several times. Much to my surprise - I'd been expecting a cushioned landing in the sand - it really hurt. A couple of times, the front wheel sunk deep into the sand as I descended a dune, sending me flying straight over the top of the handlebars.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p61
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 24, 2016, 10:01:40 AM
In the foyer at 5 a.m., Olly and the kids were in Race to Dakar baseball caps and T-shirts while I was in my full race kit. Simon was running late, as usual, but after the panic of the previous night was calm. Even Simon's tardiness hadn't started me fretting.
Approaching the start area and the parc ferme in the taxi, my nerves kicked in. I already had a sweat on and I hadn't done anything yet. I started to shiver - partly the cold and partly a sense of doom. While Simon chattered away as if it were any other morning, I felt like crying. The little black cloud that had been following around for the previous few days had started to thunder.
Pulling the road-book out of my jacket's inside pocket, I attempted to feed it on to its spool on the bike's road-book holder. It had to be fed in absolutely correctly otherwise it would crumple. And it had to be kept tight on the spool, or it wouldn't fit into the holder. It was all over the place. I couldn't help laughing: here I was, about to start the world's longest and toughest desert rally, and my road-book was a mess. I'm already losing time, and I haven't even started.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p92
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 25, 2016, 01:21:53 PM
Still freaked out about navigating, I was spending more time peering at my road-book than where I was going. It took several more miles before I realised our route was lined by a continuous bank of spectators either side of the road, making the damned road-book redundant. What a relief. I started to relax, but was immediately shaken out of my short-lived respite when Simon came thundering up alongside me.
"Charley!" he shouted. "Pull over! Pull over!"
"What?"
"The bloody back brake is on fire!"
"On fire?"
"Red-hot! You got your foot on it!" I looked down at the disc. It was glowing bright red. Strewth, I thought, I've done seven kilometres and I've stuffed the back brake already. Not good.
"I can smell the brake dust!" Simon shouted. We pulled over and checked the brake. I must have been resting my toe on the brake pedal, but it looked OK. I'd been dragging on it only lightly, so the damage was minor. I put on my helmet, we moved off and at last I managed to shut out the world. The bull-shit stopped and freedom lay ahead. Just me and my thoughts. No one and nothing else intruding ... until all of a sudden Matt pulled over.
Parked by the side of the road, Matt's bike was roaring loudly. Oh God, what now? I thought.
"My throttle's stuck," Matt yelled. We were twenty kilometres into a nine-thousand-kilometre race, I'd almost burnt out my back brake. Now Matt's throttle was broken. What was going to happen next? These things usually went in threes.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p100-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 26, 2016, 01:18:22 PM
"What's been going on with Mr Towne's life?" Simon asked as we snacked on our rations, waiting for the signal to start. Third day of the rally and disaster strikes already.
"Puncture," said Clive. "Two hundred ks from the finish."
The tyres on all our bikes were filled with mousse instead of compressed air. It made them less likely to puncture, but if the mousse detached from the wheel rim it would shred and the tyre would collapse.
"You rode 200ks on the rim?"
"200ks on the rim." Clive shrugged. He was one of the most laid-back people I'd met on the rally. With a quiet optimism and hangdog expression, nothing seemed to faze him. He just got on with it.
"Fair play to you," said Simon. 'You're a legend."
Patsy explained they'd used every zip-tie and strap they had to keep the tyre on the rim for the haul to the bivouac.
"Got in this morning at quarter past four," Patsy said. "Late dinner, early breakfast. And here we are!"
"Excellent!" said Simon. "We'll see you in Dakar this year, for sure. What do you reckon, Pats?"
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p125-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 27, 2016, 02:21:36 PM
We passed through several sections of fesh fesh [powdery sand], which never ceased to frighten me. However, I'd learned, from riding behind Simon the previous day, to find my own path of unbroken sand to support my bike and crossed the fesh fesh with relative ease.
I was making good progress, but many other riders were having much tougher time. Every ten kilometres or so we'd see a medical helicopter on the ground near a competitor being enveloped in bubblewrap for the flight back to the operating theatre at the bivouac. We'd experienced challenging terrain over the previous days. The dunes had been hard, but this stage had its own particular difficulties. As the road-book warned in its idiosyncratic translation, our riding would 'have to be fine-tuned to a maximum account (of) alternate fast stretches and navigational traps'. Those navigational traps ranged from hidden wadis to a sudden, unexpected large boulder on an open plain, which could easily spell the end for a motorcyclist travelling at high speed.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p139
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 28, 2016, 08:25:30 AM
Amidst the terrible pain a vision of my sister Telsche popped into my head, smiling at me and urging me to keep moving forward. It felt like Telsche, who died of cancer in 1997, was calling out to me, saying, "It's OK, I've been here and I'm looking after you. You'll be all right."
With Telsche watching over me I made good progress, climbing a long mountain pass to a plateau and then descending to another plain. The long haul to the end of the special stage passed surprising quickly, although every second I was begging for it to be over. By the time we reached the end, the pain in my right arm was so great I couldn't lift it. I had to use my left arm to hook my right hand around the throttle instead.
I rolled up to the finishing line of the special section relieved that the worst was behind me, but full of trepidation for the 282 kilometres of bumpy, potholed tarmac between us and the bivouac at Tan Tan.
As usual, the friendly official was waiting to stamp our time-cards and wipe our goggles.
"Hero!"
"I don't know about that. I've done my hands in."
The official looked at them and turned white. "Merde!"
I got off the bike, but couldn't remove my helmet.
"Aaarghh!" I yelped. The pain was getting worse. My right glove was stretched even tauter than before. I didn't dare remove it in case I couldn't get it back on.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p146
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 29, 2016, 08:49:41 AM
"Is this your first Dakar?" the doctor said.
"Yes. My very first. Not a good way to end it."
"Will you come back?" the nurse said after writing Bon Voyage up my arm.
"No. Never."
But the doctor thought otherwise. "I have just treated someone who has done it seven times and reached Dakar three times. After every year he vows it will be his last. And every year he comes back. Even when he is in the race he does not know why he is doing it. He does not even enjoy it, but he always comes back. Maybe you will too."
I'd heard similar stories many times before, but as I walked away from the medical tent I was absolutely convinced this would be my last Dakar.
"I'm so relieved it's over," I told Russ. "I'm so glad I don't have to go out into that dust again tomorrow. It's dangerous and crazy and I was frightened. I'm so relieved."
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p160-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 30, 2016, 11:06:40 AM
Hanging around the bivouac gave me an opportunity to discover more about how the rally worked. It was an amazing operation, one that I couldn't help thinking was so successful because it was organised by the French. If we British had organised it our obsessions with health and safety would have allowed red tape to strangle the rally. The French organisers had the right mix of efficiency and laissez-faire to allow one of the largest sporting events in the world to keep rolling with the minimum of fuss. The logistics involved in moving several thousand people, a full catering operation, twenty-six aeroplanes, more than a dozen helicopters, thirty-five television editing suites and extensive medical facilities, including an operating theatre, through west Africa, across distances of up to eleven hundred kilometres a day, were jaw-dropping, so much so that armies would visit ASO to study its operations.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p190
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 01, 2016, 09:10:47 AM
SIMON I didn't see a body, just a destroyed bike. But I knew from where it had happened and from the speed that I was riding out on an open plain - that it had been a very big accident. I noticed it was a Repsol bike, so one of the top riders from one of the top teams. He would have been moving much faster than Nick or me and I immediately thought: He's probably dead. It sent a shiver through me, but the thought of a dead rider lying by the side of the track left my mind just as quickly as it had appeared. Two hundred kilometres into the stage, there's not much else to do but press on. That's the problem. You can't stop. You can't even decide to slow down. No matter what you see out there, you've got to keep going. Otherwise you'll be a statistic too.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p211
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 02, 2016, 08:55:54 AM
When I thought of the hundreds of wives, girlfriends and families at home, waiting and staring at their computer screens, watching the Iritraq [SPOT] symbols just to see if their husband, boyfriend or father was still alive, I couldn't understand why anyone wanted to do the Dakar. At a time like this, it felt a very dumb race.
A grim-faced Repsol team manager held an impromptu press conference on the airfield. Caldecott [an Australian], he said, had crashed at about 11.30 a.m., about a third of the way into the special. The helicopter landed at five to twelve and he was confirmed dead two minutes later. Caldecott was the twenty-third competitor to die in twenty-eight Dakar rallies. Everyone was very subdued, but there was also a spirit of the show having to go on. We didn't have time to think too deeply about the tragedy. We needed to check the whereabouts of Simon and Matt; we needed to set up the pits; and we needed to prepare for the rest of the day ahead.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p217
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on December 02, 2016, 03:18:46 PM
There is a nice memorial to Andy Caldecott at his home town of Keith in South Australia.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 03, 2016, 09:01:52 AM
SIMON Shortly before darkness fell I reached the second refuel, 111 kilometres from the end of the special section. With only a handful of riders refuelling, and having lost so much time in the dunes and not seeing Patsy and Clive since they shot ahead, I felt I was lagging a long way behind the rest of the field. My fears were confirmed when the Euromaster rider I'd met earlier arrived while I was topping up my tank. Since I'd left him riding on his rim he'd found an abandoned KTM bike, removed its rear wheel, managed to bodge it on to his Yamaha, tied the brake calliper to the outside of his bike's swing arm and somehow made it work. Nothing, it seemed, was going to stop him finishing.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p224
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 04, 2016, 11:56:16 AM
"All right, boy?" It was Plummy. He'd turned up while I was sorting out my gas flow problems and he had a plan. Nick had rigged a full-power xenon headlight to his helmet. It was madness. He had zip-tied a huge high-intensity discharge transformer - labelled: 'Beware. 5,000 volts. Dangerous to Life' - to the jaw-piece of his helmet. The transformer was needed to punch a high voltage into the bulb to ionise the gas. But there was beauty in Nick's madness. Once it fired, the xenon lamp produced the equivalent of 150 watts of lighting power but drew only 35 watts from the batteries. Other riders had tried similar systems but had failed to find a way of firing up the bulb with the transformer mounted on the bike. With a longer cable the voltage drop was too great. Nick, who had spent months developing his helmet light, had worked out the only solution: strap the transformer to your helmet.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p226
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 05, 2016, 06:59:53 AM
SIMON We also heard an amazing tale about Tom, the South African Nick and I had passed without stopping. His bike broke down in the dunes after a piece of his carburettor fell off. Eventually, he stopped a truck. The driver said that he'd seen another bike some way back in the dunes. Tom took off his boots and started looking for the other bike, walking until he was too exhausted to take another step. He then lay down and went sleep. When he woke up, he walked some more, covering about twenty kilometres until he found the abandoned bike. He climbed on the bike. It started straight away. Wearing neither boots and socks nor helmet, he rode the abandoned bike back through the dunes in the dark to his bike, fitted its carburettor to his bike and rode out of the dunes. By the time he'd caught up with the rally he'd been going for forty hours non-stop.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p249
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 07, 2016, 10:06:42 AM
SIMON Towards the end of the special, I stopped at a village to take some photographs and have a rest. Sipping my water, I heard another bike approaching. A Yamaha XT500, a relic from the 1970s, pulled up. A Dutch competitor called Henno Van Bergeik swung off it and started talking. He was an off-road fanatic with a garage full of XT500s, the original classic desert dirt bike. Every year he'd go off on a bike tour on his own. He'd crossed Mongolia and he'd traversed Algeria twice - once without a guide, just sneaking across the border and finding his own way through the desert.
Wearing old leather gardening gloves that had cost him maybe three euros, he was now doing the Dakar on a bike that first saw action in the race about thirty years earlier.
"This is the most organised holiday I've ever been on." That's the quote of the rally, mate, I thought as soon as he said it. We were busting our guts to get to Dakar in one piece, but Henno thought it was a leisurely jaunt.
"They give you the route every morning. They provide all the food and a place to sleep. There's water and fuel provided every few hundred kilometres. If anything happens to you, there are doctors and helicopters to rescue you. It's never been like this for me before."
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p280-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 08, 2016, 08:51:09 AM
Disappointed that I'd beaten Olly, the kids and the rest of the party to the Meridien, I walked back to the hotel car park.
"CHARLEY!" I spun round and there was Ewan.
"Ewan! Great to see you!" I felt like crying as I hugged him.
"Great to see you too, mate. Well done. Congratulations!"
"I can't believe we did it. I thought we'd never get here. And now look!" Over Ewan's shoulder I saw Olly approaching with the girls. I ran over to her.
"I was so worried about you," I said as I hugged and kissed my wife.
"You've got your beard again!" said Kinvara as I bent down to hug her and Doone. "And you smell!"
I showed my wife and daughters my broken hands. The girls, were fascinated, wanting to know exactly which bones were broken.
Race To Dakar  Charlie Boorman  p289
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 09, 2016, 07:42:19 AM
I was drinking beers with friends at a barbecue when, for no apparent reason, I blurted out: "I'm going to ride a motorcycle through Africa." As I recall, motorcycle travel was not a topic of our idle chat as we sat on eskies and plastic chairs in a friend's backyard. I couldn't believe the words had come from me. But the idea felt like it had been there all along, lying dormant for years, waiting for this moment. I sat stunned and speechless, as if some otherworldly force had gripped me by the shoulders and said: "You need to do this." In that instant, time stood still. It was only a brief pause, long enough for me to notice. And while my drinking buddies quickly forgot my momentary lapse of reason, I did not. I could think of nothing else: the idea both frightened and enlivened me. But at the same time, I also felt in complete balance, as though I had known all along that this was my life's purpose.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 10, 2016, 08:49:33 AM
Next was the dilemma of how I would carry my mountain of gear. But this, too, was easily overcome, as right there on the Yamaha shop floor was a set of suitcase-shaped thick leather pannier bags and a heavy steel frame. With some minor modifications they would fit the TT. They cost $500 and belonged to a Swiss motorcyclist who'd ended his ride around Australia just days before.
This was the first of many coincidences that unfolded soon after the idea of my ride had burst into my life. In the beginning I shrugged these just good luck, but as each day passed, little, almost indiscernible, things happened at every turn. I was on the cusp of a new life and tingling with expectation, and in this heightened state of awareness I began to notice these subtle hints of synchronicity.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 11, 2016, 03:03:05 PM
They talked amongst themselves with nods and the occasional sideways glance at me, which I interpreted as a mix of disbelief and respect. My perception of their good intent was felt as a physical thing, like an ever-so-slight pressure forced through the air, and I breathed it in.
"Do you know Lake Turkana?" I asked. "I'm going there to see the fossils of our first footprints," I said and pointed to their feet. The two men looked at their feet and then at me, confused. I hoped I had not insulted them.
"Big crocodiles in lake," one of them said.
They watched intrigued as I pushed the tube with its new patch back into the tyre. Moments before, I'd been a hopeless fool stuck in open scrub with a flat tyre that I could not fix and now I was like an old pro. I reached for the foot pump and once the tyre was inflated, the two men helped me lift the TT upright. I knelt to gather my things, and when I stood they had disappeared into the scrub as silently as they had appeared. I smiled at how things had worked out: help had miraculously arrived just at the very moment I needed it.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p68-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 12, 2016, 07:49:54 AM
"Why? You are close! Can't you see we need help?" I yelled as the boat sailed past.
"Take your clothes off. Let them see you are mzungu. Instead, you cover yourself. They will not come near the shore if they think you are African. They'll think you are a Borana. Borana kill Turkana fishermen all the time. It happens every day," he said and waved his arms above his head in a mix of anger and desperation. Sharif had already told me we could not light a fire, as the smoke would indicate Borana.
I was wearing a navy one-piece swimsuit and looked every bit the Borana bandit from afar as my skin was tanned a dark brown.
"Please stop! Please stop!" I pleaded.
"Take your clothes off," Sharif shouted again.
"Go. They should not see you," I said and when he walked away, I undressed and stood naked on the shore, leaving no doubt I was mzungu. The next boat was clearly visible and I waved my bike jacket vigorously.
The two boats sailed past but neared the shore about a kilometre away. I scanned ahead with the binoculars and spotted several dark shapes that appeared to move. The boats had stopped at the beach. They had seen us.
We were saved.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p107-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 13, 2016, 07:51:39 AM
Another of the four men, the tallest, moved to stand next to the oldest. Both glared at me with piercing black eyes. I stood my ground, leaving no doubt that I was fully aware of their intentions. Hidden on me and my motorcycle was US$2300 and they knew it. They knew that in order to travel I must carry some money and whatever I carried was more than they would earn in four or five years.
As I finished packing, one of my gloves fell under the TT. I stood and stared at it. The oldest man took a step closer and was only a few metres away. No one moved. The other three looked tense as though preparing to pounce and I stood ready to turn into a wild cat. I played out my defence. I'd squirt the pepper spray directly into their eyes. I'd dive for the panga and run for the exit at the back of the courtyard. Time stood still.
But just as quickly as the men had surrounded me, the mood changed and they moved away. It was as though for an instant they were possessed by some dark force. These men would maybe have been in their twenties during the bloody years of Amin and Obote. What atrocities had they seen? What massacres had they been part of? For a moment it had felt like they were back in that savage time. But with peace had come compassion. I was thankful their spirit was still true and I did not meet with a terrible, unspeakable end.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p130-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 14, 2016, 10:19:49 AM
Earlier, I'd skinned a viper snake from Leo's collection that had died the night before. I'd asked if I could have it, as I wanted to wrap its skin around the TT's handlebars near where I stored the panga.
"Go for it," Leo had said shaking his head at my madness. But it was not such a silly thing to do, as the viper is Africa's most poisonous and feared of snakes. I reasoned that as I travelled into Africa's interior, where people were deeply superstitious, the sight of the viper skin would fill them with fear and respect for my courage, as they'd assume I'd killed it. The viper, along with the panga, would add to my aura of protection and the TT's aura of strength and indestructibility.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p164
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 15, 2016, 09:53:43 AM
"It is not enough, but we help you anyway," said the third man, and his two friends nodded. "It is far to Kisangani. You will need it for food."
The young men gave their help because I needed it. This African way I had come to expect. While at first I was often seen as business, an opportunity to make money, attitudes quickly changed when people realised how far I had travelled and how far I still had to go. This often followed with the words "Long journey. Much courage," and of reverence for what my journey meant, both in hardship and in terms of a search of some greater, unspoken meaning. Their ways and words always empowered me, and the deeper I travelled into Africa the deeper was my admiration for their profound sense of what it means to be human. Africa was not so much an undeveloped world but one where people lived for today, for their family and friends, and showed a willingness to help a stranger lying under an upside-down motorcycle in the mud. This was ubuntu, I was coming to realise.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p186
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 16, 2016, 09:15:16 AM
"We worry for you. We not think you make it over the gullies. You very strong woman," said the Congolese driver as I pulled up beside him.
They were still waiting for their documents to be stamped by immigration and customs. Some did not have visas and the cargo needed to be valued and the appropriate customs fee negotiated. I faced no such delay and, after downing two bottles of warm Coke and eating several bananas purchased from the stalls selling not much else, I was soon cruising along the glorious smooth black tarmac to Franceville, a two-hour ride to the west. The road was perfection compared to what I had just endured and I opened the throttle in sheer exhilaration. The TT responded and leapt forward as giddy as a colt given the chance of a good gallop. After riding it through so much sand and mostly in first gear, I worried I'd done irreparable damage by overheating the engine or wearing out the clutch but it was just as strong and reliable as always. I'd asked so much of this motorcycle and it had never once failed me. The TT's big bore single-cylinder engine echoed loud and thumping as I rode down a tunnel of green through the thick tropical rainforest.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p241
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 17, 2016, 08:29:26 AM
I used this time to rest and to service the TT. I cursed myself when I found one of the hoses from the air box had disconnected. The hose had probably come off when I'd dropped the bike while riding in the sand as I crossed from Congo to Gabon hundreds of kilometres back. The inside of the air-filter was covered with grass seeds and grit. Dust had sucked straight through the top of the carburettor and into the engine. I felt like crying. I had been so diligent, bordering on obsessive, and had cleaned and oiled the air-filter daily, as well as changed the engine oil more often than I needed to, to prevent the premature wearing of engine parts. Days of hard riding through equatorial Africa, coupled with the intermittent diarrhoea I could not shake off, had weakened me and I'd become careless. It would have been a simple job to check the bike in Franceville. This lack of attention had almost certainly shortened its life. The only thing I could do was change the oil. Fortunately, I had collected four litres from the Mobil depot in Yaounde the previous day.
"I'm sorry," I said and patted the TT in apology. This motorcycle had always given me constant reliability that seemed to defy the laws of basic mechanics. If I were to believe my intuition the same way I did when deciding what road to take or whether a person was good or intended me harm, then the explanation for its reliability lay at a very deep level - far beyond sum of its parts, down to the deepest level of all, where trillions of atoms vibrate in perfect harmony to the ever-so-slight frequency generated by my own positively charged thoughts of devotion.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p257
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 18, 2016, 12:04:41 PM
"How da ya get on with the roadblocks? Any problems?" asked Brian, second man, who had thinning brown hair and looked to be in his mid-forties.
"No, I never stop, I just ride through," I said and helped myself to another chocolate biscuit as the two Scots looked at me in disbelief.
"Dinna ya know, an English guy got shot dead for runnin' a police checkpoint just the other day. The bullet went right through the back of his head. T'was a shame," Keith said. "The bastards are allowed to shoot anybody who does not stop."
"Bloody hell, I'll be stopping from now on," I said, and sat back on the lounge, silently thanking whatever it was that was keeping me safe, for what must have been the millionth time.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p276
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 19, 2016, 02:07:02 PM
I camped there for four days but it could have been four weeks, as I fell into a void where time seemed to stand still. I walked for hours along the beach, deep in thought as I tried to understand my journey and what it meant, if it meant anything at all. I questioned my theories about synchronicity - all those chance encounters and coincidences that had happened with such regularity. Maybe this is just what happens when you travel, because you are moving through so many experiences? Of course such things will happen, because life is no longer curtailed by routine.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p294
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 20, 2016, 09:50:27 AM
Visibility was down to several metres and I was nearly out of fuel. I switched the TT to reserve and prayed that I would soon reach a village. I needed somewhere to shelter out of the wind and sand while I poured the petrol into the tank from my ten-litre jerry.
Up ahead, I could make out a cluster of square mud-brick buildings, which looked deserted. Some were half-buried in sand from the Sahara, which was steadily encroaching southward. I pulled up beside one of the houses, sheltering from the wind, and was about to refill the tank when two Bidan girls, aged about ten with sand-matted hair, bare feet and wearing faded floral dresses, appeared beside me. They insisted I follow them to one of the mud-brick huts. The entrance was draped with an old rug to stop the sand blown by the howling wind. Inside, several women, two old men and quite a few children of various ages were sitting on a worn carpet. None were fat, so I gathered they were poor, somehow eking out an existence in the desert. With the endless drought, no decent rain had fallen for twenty years and most of the livestock in these villages and small townships had perished long ago. All the able-bodied men, forced by necessity, had left to work in Nouakchott, and sent their meagre earnings back to their families. This was the same story for all the desert towns.
A metal stand filled with glowing coals heated a small teapot, and a glass of sweet black tea was poured and handed to me.
"Shukran! I said and quickly sipped the tea, handing back the glass as was the local way. As I waited for the storm to subside, I entertained the Mauritanians with photos of my family and of Australia, and an hour later, after I refuelled, I continued on my way to Ayoun al Atrous, the next township lining the highway.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p330
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 21, 2016, 09:11:00 AM
"There is much sand. It is very bad. You will not make it on your motorbike," Anna said. Her words instantly dismissed this fleeting thought. Besides, I doubted the TT would make it: since leaving Nouakchott, it sounded tired and worn out. The timing chain inside the engine was loose, and being at the end of its automatic adjustment, I could not tighten it. I did not carry a spare, and even if I did, delving into the bowels of the TT's engine was way beyond my mechanical ability.
The float in the carburettor was also sticking, but there was no place free of sand to pull it apart as I'd done in the Mobil workshop in Nigeria. Instead, I would free it by reaching for my hammer and giving it a few good taps while still riding. It worked and the TT ran without problems for another few hours, until I needed to tap it again.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p349
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 22, 2016, 09:22:10 AM
"I can't believe it is over," I said and looked up at the night sky filled with stars that shone down with a bright, almost ethereal glow. There was a long silence, my hosts respecting the moment as I reflected on my journey. I had come such a long way - 42,000 kilometres and nineteen countries in fifteen months - through sand and mud, and roads littered with potholes and rocks, through forests and up mountains, through a civil war and road blocks controlled by rebels armed with AK47s. I'd nearly died several times, but I'd always survived. And the African people had always embraced me, as though they understood innately the meaning behind my journey. I knew then that the desire to explore - to have an adventure, to find out what was really out there - is what makes us human, and is as integral to our evolution as new discoveries in technology, medicine and in all the other sciences.
"We are glad you decide to go on the German ship," Ahmed whispered, gently bringing me out of my inner reflection.
"It looks like I have no choice," I said. But I knew it was the right, the only, choice for me. "I still can't believe it is over," I repeated. "What now?"
While the next stage of my journey was yet to unfold, the German cargo ship being there, at the very moment I needed it, did not surprise me. It was just another in a very long line of happy coincidences. Even so, I said a silent prayer of gratitude, as I had always done for everything fortuitous that had come my way.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p360-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on December 22, 2016, 03:09:09 PM
Sounds like she had a really amazing journey. Well done to her.  :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 23, 2016, 12:10:21 AM
Sounds like she had a really amazing journey. Well done to her.  :thumbsup

I never cease to be amazed how these adventure riders are so often miraculously protected.
That's another great read- and she's a dinky-di Oz gal.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on December 23, 2016, 12:33:29 AM
Great read Bill, thanks for daily postings  :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 23, 2016, 09:13:24 AM
I kick-started the TT. It spluttered to life with a forlorn terminally wounded at the end of this great crusade of ours but determined it would not give up until I was safe. I slowly nursed it along the sandy street as I rode towards the docks, but after just a hundred metres there was a loud crunch. The TT backfired, its engine spluttered, it hung on, the wheels kept turning, and then I hit the kill switch and ended its pain.
"What is wrong?" Ahmed yelled breathlessly as he and his two cousins ran towards me.
"I'd say the timing chain finally snapped," I replied.
"Is your motorbike finished?" he asked with genuine concern. I nodded.
"It is until I reach a mechanic in Europe. It is bon chance I'm taking this ship and am not riding across the desert."
"You are blessed," he replied. "Allah is with you."
As I sat on the TT for the last time in Africa, I could not believe that luck alone had caused it to stop at the moment when I was safe. The chain could just as easily have snapped in the desert when I was at my most vulnerable. But the TT had held on until the end, when its job was done and this ride was over. Despite all I'd asked of it, this motorcycle had never let me down. It was my dear friend and we had shared many adventures on our long and arduous journey. I rested my hands on its petrol tank as if pouring into it all my gratitude for its strength and reliability. I closed my eyes and imagined its trillions of atoms vibrating in harmony, devoid of friction and tension as it basked in the glow of my adoration.
Ubuntu  Heather Ellis  p361-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on December 23, 2016, 03:20:26 PM

Quote

I never cease to be amazed how these adventure riders are so often miraculously protected.


True, but the ones whose bones are bleaching out in the desert beside their broken bikes never get to write books.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 24, 2016, 09:40:42 AM
After two years of marriage, my garage contained a BMW K100, a Gold Wing, two Harleys and an old Yamaha DT360 trail bike. One Sunday I was in the process of draining the oil out of one of the Harleys when my lovely wife came into the garage with a coffee. Sitting there, watching me as I worked she suddenly asked how much money 'we' had sitting there on the garage floor invested in motorcycles.
The nature of the question and the tone of her voice warned me of danger. It was obvious she expected a sensible response because I knew from recent experience that being flippant or evasive could take the conversation in an ugly direction. I think that it's moments like these why the male species has been equipped with the ability to think at the speed of light, to come up with a solution that ensures preservation when seemingly trapped in a dead end.
"Well, my love, I had been hoping to keep this as a bit of a surprise, but since you ask I suppose it's time to reveal my plan. Put succinctly, I intend to use this fleet of motorcycles to launch a new business. This new venture should allow me to convert my spare time into cash so that we can afford that trip you've always wanted — over to Europe to visit all those famous gardens."
I held my breath as I waited for her response, hoping she didn't realise that selling half my motorcycle fleet right now would easily fund her dream overseas adventure. She just rolled her eyes and walked off.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  pp19-20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 25, 2016, 12:10:33 PM
As we approached the peak of the hill, the road pointed directly to the west, causing us to be almost blinded by the sun, which by that time was hanging low on the horizon. Visibility severely compromised, and squinting through dirty scratched sunglasses, we suddenly realised we were in the midst of a Police operation. There on the crest of the hill was a stack of Police cars and bikes, surrounded by about 20 riders that they had pulled over and were in the process of booking. It reminded me of bears catching helpless salmon that jump into their arms as they frantically swim upstream! Business was brisk and one of my friends on his 500cc was pulled over and booked. Like numerous other riders, he was guilty of exceeding the 30 mph speed limit, which was designated on a small roadside sign about four miles back in the Katoomba township. As a bonus, the Police were also adding a little extra — booking all riders for crossing double unbroken lines. The fact that the road markings were extremely feint and completely obliterated by the glare of the setting sun raised the hackles of the disgruntled riders.
Luckily my other two mates on the 500cc machines escaped through the Police gauntlet unscathed. They headed on west without us; it was every man for himself. The fact that Eddy and I missed out on being booked had nothing to do with being law-abiding citizens. Instead it had everything to do with the fact that the Tin Fish and the Bantam weren't powerful enough to exceed the speed limit while travelling uphill.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  pp52-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 26, 2016, 09:28:13 AM
With the AGM over we were ready for our homeward journey via Orange, where we intended visiting more friends and relatives before heading home to Rockhampton. But the Bloody Money Waster wouldn't turn over.
The starter motor was diagnosed as the problem, so into the repair shop it went. With panniers in hand we booked into a cabin at the local caravan park, where we planned to wait while the repairs were completed. Then the bad news from the mechanic: "Sorry, mate, the starter is unrepairable. The glue holding the magnets has melted, destroying the motor." Apparently a French starter had been fitted to this model and it would take six weeks to get one from Germany. I wasted another few days trying to find a starter in Australia, but my efforts proved unsuccessful.
RACQ Ultra to the rescue.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  p64
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 27, 2016, 08:30:58 AM
I've stayed in a lot of low-cost accommodation in my time, but the Snyder Sunset Motel really scraped the bottom of the barrel. No pillow slips, no sheets, no soap, one towel to share between the two of us, cigarette butts in the ashtray next to the No Smoking card sticky-taped to the wall, and the stink of cigarette smoke and sweat. The pillows were disgusting- each exhibited a large stain that looked like previous guests had dipped their heads in a vat of sump oil before retiring for the evening. The door appeared as though it had been opened each morning by a SWAT team with a battering ram with both the lock and the chain broken. "Pathetic," muttered Clem, wrinkling up his nose, "bloody pathetic. The only things lacking are the second-hand condoms."
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  p86
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 28, 2016, 02:24:09 PM
In the weeks to come I was riding the James in circles around Mum's clothesline, wearing a furrow in the lawn. Mum was none too happy about this, and as mothers and fathers do, they talked. They must have discussed the groove in the lawn and the dust problem under her feet on washing days, and that it could not continue. It was at this juncture in our budding motorcycling careers that our father, who been instructed by our mother, spoke to my brother and me. He told us that it was about time we either got rid of the bike for family peace, or more than likely for his peace, or pushed it the mile or so to a disused stock car track that ran alongside the river. Heaven! It was on this track that we learned to actually change gears.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  p90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 29, 2016, 08:55:12 AM
Bundy, being the accomplished rider that she is, absolutely loves twisty roads at high speed, the faster the better. When she senses an increase in the angle of lean on the bike she gets quite excited. She immediately stands up on the tank and looks through the corners! There are quite a few sport bike riders out there who have thought they were doing pretty well as they cranked their machines through a tight twisty, only to sense another bike coming around them on the outside. It's a wonder none have fallen off with the shock of seeing Bundy flash past staring at them as Tex, sometimes even with a pillion on the back too, puts the hammer down.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  p105
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 30, 2016, 11:24:15 AM
As Tex drew nearer, the sergeant's casual glance became a stare, then he unfolded his arms, shook his head and dropped his jaw as Tex rode past, giving him a friendly wave. Remember, it is illegal for a dog to ride on the front of a registered motorcycle, unless it carries a special certificate of authorisation. As Tex sailed off into the distance, he couldn't stop laughing, thinking that the sergeant would probably scramble a highway patrol car and send one of his boys after him. Just when Tex thought the police had forgotten about him he heard the unmistakable sound of a siren and checking his rear-vision mirrors, saw the all-too-familiar sight of flashing blue and red lights. Tex pulled over, unclipped Bundy from her safety strap, flipped up his helmet and smiled a greeting to the officer with, "The boss send you after me?"
Grinning from ear to ear, the officer replied, "You nearly gave him a coronary — he said he must've been seeing things — that a bike just went zipping past with a Blue Heeler perched on top of the tank — and the dog was dressed in a bloody Santa Claus suit!" They enjoyed a good laugh, wished each other a Merry Christmas and went their separate ways.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  p106
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 31, 2016, 09:02:57 AM
My Man and his mates have had their share of bad falls and injuries. A split-second lapse of concentration on the path ahead is all it takes to become one with the landscape, bouncing off a tree, slipping and thrashing about in a puddle of sludge, or lying dazed in the dirt. Sometimes they need only a few minutes to recover and catch their breath, other times will see them crashed out in the back of a car, moaning and exhausted, or if they've really stacked hard, visiting an emergency ward to patch up that broken collar bone.
Once, after failing an attempted log crossing, my Man ended up prostrate on the ground with a torn groin. The multi-coloured purple, black and green bruising that developed shortly afterwards testified that this was indeed a cringe-worthy injury.
The days following each ride I listen to my Man's gripes about how sore and tired he is, how he needs to be pampered in a hot bath. But when his mates call he's casual, undefeated: "No, I'm fine, pulled up great. Next Saturday? Bring it on!"
My Man also, of course, owns a road bike. It's a Kawasaki ZRX 1200, or 'mean black muscle machine'! When he rides my Man wears only the latest and greatest in designer black: leather jacket, pants, gloves, boots and helmet. His gear is not only the best available in protective gear, he fills it out looking pretty darn hot!
I guess that's why he's my Man.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  pp141-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 01, 2017, 01:08:40 PM
As another hog rumbles past, I ask myself: if a Harley rides in the forest and there is no one there to admire it, does it really exist? After ridding myself of such existential nonsense, it's on the Beast again for a civilised cruise back to Lavers Hill. This is a great bit of road, not too twisty, not too straight. As always I wave to every bike I see, as always 90 per cent of them don't wave back...
Steps up onto soapbox-
Back when I was a lad, living in a cardboard box, cold gravel for tea, etc., you waved to all oncoming riders and most waved back. The exceptions were the Harley riders, who really were outlaws back then, and chookies, who for some reason didn't seem to feel they were part of the gang. There was a sense of community that seems to have since been lost. These days it appears to be more about what you possess rather than enjoying the shared biking experience. Every spotty-faced 19-year-old on a 30-grand Ducati provided by mummy and daddy, and every redundant accountant who spent his package on a Harley and a skull bandana, think they are too cool to acknowledge a fellow traveller. In the words of the Dalai Lama, "Sod the lot of 'em."
Steps down from soapbox...
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  pp160-1xxx
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 02, 2017, 09:11:36 AM
"You promised me no flowers," I almost bawled, tears welling up in my eyes.
"Calm down, I haven't bought any plants." She was right; plants don't squawk and make wing-beating noises. Blow me down, she had bought a trio of Faverolle bantams — two hens and a rooster! The ensuing discussion doesn't bear repeating, but when we rode out of the Mudgee Showground that afternoon we had a cardboard box in each pannier, suitably modified with penknife and masking tape so they would fit in the cramped space. When I tried to close the panniers she went berserk, fearful that the chickens would suffocate from lack of oxygen. I hope they do, I thought to myself, but relented and left both panniers slightly open during the ride home.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  p170
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 03, 2017, 09:55:43 AM
I was in a dead sleep when it happened.
At first I thought it was part of a bad dream, the shrill sound of a rooster crowing. The second crow was accompanied by a sharp Karate thump in the ribs, delivered with great precision by the Little Woman. "Wake up, wake up, the rooster is crowing!"
I rolled over in the pitch dark and peeked at the bedside clock... 3.58am!
"Quick, go get the rooster before it wakes up the motel."
Panicking, I staggered into the bathroom and grabbed the box, just as the contents were halfway through another piercing shriek. Without hesitating she ripped the top of the box open, grabbed the rooster by the legs and pulled the flapping mound of feathers down under the bedcovers. I stood there staring, freezing, incredulous, open mouthed. Was this woman stark raving insane or what?
"For heaven's sake, get back into bed. If we keep the rooster dark and warm, it'll soon go back to sleep!" She was right, and that is how I came to end up sleeping with two chicks.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  p171
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on January 03, 2017, 11:28:03 AM
 :rofl  :p
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 04, 2017, 09:07:28 AM
I was next. I don't think I've ever been more scared in my whole life. I was deafened by the sound of my own heart pounding in my chest. I waited, intensely watching the foaming swirling water. Then as the next wave reached its lowest point, I grabbed a handful of throttle and accelerated into the trench. In hindsight I realised that I hadn't followed the exact same trajectory as the three previous motorcycles. Because I was a few metres to their right when I started my run, I was perhaps a metre or so off to one side of the route that the other three had taken. I got about halfway across the trench when suddenly my front wheel nose-dived, falling into an invisible hole underneath the waterline. My back wheel bucked up into the air as the motorcycle cartwheeled, throwing me over the handlebars and into the surf. Within seconds a huge wall of water surged over me as the next wave came barrelling down the trench. I coughed and spluttered as I tried to disgorge the huge gobfull of salt water that had forced itself up my nose and into my mouth. Somehow I had retained my grip on the Honda's handlebars and to my surprise the motorcycle was floating. I later worked out that the fuel tank was probably half full of air, plus both the panniers and top box were fairly airtight as well, so in sum total the machine was reasonably buoyant.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  p213
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 05, 2017, 06:01:22 AM
Kipper gets quite upset now if he sees me putting on my riding gear when I can't bring him with me on a ride. I've taken to hiding my riding gear in the garage the night before, so that I can sneak out without him. It's a sad state of affairs when you have to hide from a bloody dog! But he's not just a dog, is he? He's my best mate.
Looking back, taking on a failed sheep dog was a gamble that paid off big-time. Being able to travel with Kipper by motorbike is one of the best things about my life with motorcycles and it fits neatly with many other personal achievements and wonderful events that have made me who I am. We've even done an Iron Butt Association ride together, so he has a spot in my heart that is irreplaceable.
I dread the day when age or illness puts an end to our travels together. There is nothing like the friendship of a good dog to bring peace into your world and unconditional love into your life. The joy he brings to the kids and oldies alike that we meet on our travels will also be missed. While I'm the guy they spotted riding out on some deserted road or travelling a freeway, it was the Border Collie riding pillion that made them smile, laugh or scream with delight. Yes, the day will come when I'll have to bury my mate in the backyard alongside the other family pets and companions. He'll wear his well-used travel coat and take his beaten-up water bowl to wherever it is that dog spirits go.
He will be missed.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  p227
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 06, 2017, 07:43:05 AM
Although Shorty also missed Old Dick, he was too caught up in the excitement of the new motorcycle to dwell on the past. Officially the Harley belonged to the whole family, but since he was the only one who could ride it, it was essentially his own. To everyone's astonishment, Grandma also claimed a degree of ownership as she always referred to the bike as 'our dear Davidson' and she was the first one to go for a ride after Shorty arrived home. He had barely come to a standstill after his broadside across the grass when Grandma clambered into the sidebox, her gummy grin indicating she was ready to go. Only too eager to show off his new toy, Shorty took off, executing a tentative left-hander into the street. To his surprise, there was not even a hint that the sidebox wanted to lift off the ground, so he quickly realised that with Grandma acting as ballast, the outfit could negotiate left-handers as quickly as right-handers. He couldn't help thinking that maybe there was a practical use for grandmothers after all.
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories  John Bryant  p248
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 07, 2017, 09:15:53 AM
The three of us flew in to Los Angeles from Perth a couple of days ago. Jim is an easygoing Londoner with a wicked sense of humour. He is also an experienced rider, having crossed Australia many times on his Kawasaki GTR. Peter was born in Germany, but grew up in Australia. He has been riding for about three years and now owns a Harley-Davidson Fat Boy, but he has not done much long-distance touring. I left England in the seventies to work my way around the world before settling in Australia. I have clocked plenty of miles on my Honda ST1300 and have driven in America before, so I am assigned to lead the way. However, I am learning that navigating the L.A. freeways on a motorcycle is much more challenging than in a car.
Three Harleys, Three Aussies, One American Dream  Stephen Starling  p9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 08, 2017, 01:22:28 PM
Three bikes tear up Highway One — Peter speeding ahead, engine screaming, still accelerating, me steaming along behind in hot pursuit, and Jim gathering speed at the rear trying to catch us. The road races up to meet me, the dotted white line becomes a continuous ribbon, the verge blurs to a swirl of grass as fence posts fly by. Motors roar, wind screams, and hearts pound as we burn up high-octane fuel and adrenaline.
Over 90 miles per hour the wind starts to tear at my legs and arms out in the slipstream. Thankfully, the Road King rockets on, running straight and true, not deflected by the turbulence. Hitting 100, high gearing and a big screen start sapping power and slowing acceleration. Over 110 in sixth gear, vibration shudders through the footboards. I sense the power curve is leveling out and the engine is reaching its rev limit with not much more to give.
Three Harleys, Three Aussies, One American Dream  Stephen Starling  p29
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 09, 2017, 02:49:32 PM
Peter, Jim, and I are approaching the end of our working days, reaching that transitional time of life between leaving employment and starting retirement. We are all self-employed — Jim with his manufacturing firm, Peter with his finance brokering, and me with my consulting business. For this month, we have put aside our commitments to take time out to travel. Toil, diligence, and making money are ingrained in our psyches, but if we do not take time out now, then when? Could we put this trip off for a year? Should we have waited? Till when? When we retire? Someday?
But how many days do we have left? Being past sixty, we are conscious our days and years are running out. How many more grains are left to fall through the hourglass? We do not know. Yet we do know there will come a time when the reflexes slow, sight fades, strength wanes, and we will no longer be able to push heavy motorcycles around, race along Pacific Coast Highway, or party on past midnight.
Three Harleys, Three Aussies, One American Dream  Stephen Starling  p56
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 10, 2017, 08:22:16 AM
I am also watching for highway signs as I navigate down a crisscrossing grid of city streets. Counting off intersections, I indicate early for turns hoping that Jim and Peter see my signals. When we do become separated, I have to search for a safe spot to pull over and wait until we can regroup. Progress is slow in a sluggish, stop-start fashion, but with determination and patience, we doggedly make our way down to the bay.
Eventually, I merge onto a waterfront road that skirts around the city to ride up a ramp to the Oakland Bridge. Channeled onto the lower deck of the bridge, riding in a steel cage of columns and beams suspended under railway tracks, I am carried out of the city, over the water, and across the bay.
Three Harleys, Three Aussies, One American Dream  Stephen Starling  pp94-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 11, 2017, 09:09:20 AM
I am running wild across Wyoming. The wind whistles, the wheels hum, the engine roars, and the exhausts boom as my Road King's big V-Twin munches up mile after mile. I become absorbed in picking the best line, using the full width of the deserted road to avoid scrubbing speed off the tires.  Gently I push on the handlebars, slightly shifting weight in the saddle; the bike leans to carve an arc around the curve. A shift to the other side and it tilts to track flawlessly, following my chosen line into the next turn.
Blending power and precision I get into the groove, a state of mind where man and machine are one. Even at high speed time seems to slow, control is exercised through subtle shifts, and senses are attuned to variations in the texture of the tarmac and to changes in the camber of a curve. My race across the range becomes a mesmerizing mind game. I revel in the thrill of speed, rushing on with reckless abandon, enthralled by the freedom of the open road.
Three Harleys, Three Aussies, One American Dream  Stephen Starling  pp144-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 12, 2017, 10:15:38 AM
The tarmac twists and turns down the narrowing gorge, searching for a way through this seemingly impenetrable mountain range. The cliff walls close in and the river encroaches, threatening to wash over the road. To forge a way through the narrow canyon, huge concrete columns support the road high above the river. Further on the cliffs have been blasted and tons of rubble carted away to carve out a pass. Eventually, having exhausted these options, and confronted by a solid wall of rock, the road builders have attacked the mountain head-on to tunnel a way through.
The Eisenhower Tunnel burrows 1.7 miles through the Rocky Mountains under the Continental Divide- beyond the portal it is dark and damp. The road surface is greasy from a mixture of seeping water and the rubber deposited by a constant stream of vehicles. I am wedged in a narrow lane between two monster trucks whose menacing wheels throw up plumes of spray. I ease off the throttle, thinking this is no time to take a spill.
Three Harleys, Three Aussies, One American Dream  Stephen Starling  pp204-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 13, 2017, 09:18:31 AM
Sure, the route I had chosen was reckless and risky, but luckily we got away with it. Resolute determination kept us going, pushing through the snow, the cold, and the fear. We three old fools, who should know better, have survived a winter's nightmare on the Million Dollar Highway. Quickly registered, we pile into a large motel room with three beds. Wet kit is peeled off and hung to dry; pairs of boots stand before radiators, gloves gesture a salute on windowsills, and the shower runs hot to warm chilled bones and ease aching muscles.
I collapse onto my bed, tensions draining away and my core body temperature returning to normal. I feel safe and yet, when I close my eyes, those ominous mountains, slippery roads, driving snow, and visions of scary thousand-foot drops come back to haunt me.
Three Harleys, Three Aussies, One American Dream  Stephen Starling  pp221-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 14, 2017, 09:20:17 AM
The Devil's Backbone is a risky ride that will demand a steady hand on the throttle and a foot hovering over the brake. This is no time to allow my Road King to career out control. Survival will depend on slowing the speed down the steep grade, cautiously steering around corners, and using the engine to arrest the descent and to prevent the brakes from fading. Although the twists and turns of the dramatic descent are daunting, the three of us are prepared, enjoying the challenge as a contest of skill.
Rolling forward at forty miles an hour, I lean into the first bend, then the next, and the next. The idling engine slows speed and the exhaust burbles as my bike tracks around the turns, staying well away from the deadly drop. The Devil's Backbone would be hell in poor visibility or when the road surface is slippery; it would certainly be a deadly devil of a ride. Yet on this bright, dry morning without any traffic, it is actually an enjoyable contest between road builder and bike rider. For once we ride responsibly, like learners taking a test, and arrive safely at the base of Devil's Backbone.
Three Harleys, Three Aussies, One American Dream  Stephen Starling  p253
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 15, 2017, 01:20:49 PM
The Gun Store experience has given me an insight into the gun ownership debate and an appreciation of why it is so emotive. Many have argued that motivations for gun ownership run deep into a sense of masculinity, even a subliminal sexuality. Caress the trigger, feel the adrenaline rush, and eject a potent discharge in a stream of smoke and flame. Yes, you could easily become smitten by that, seduced by the sensational symbolism and the dominant male posturing. Surely, the right to bear arms is enshrined in the American Constitution. There is the defense argument too. However, these important points may mask a more personal concern — a fear that an unarmed man becomes a lesser man; an anxiety that a virile gun-toting male who gives up his weapon is perceived as an impotent, girly kind of guy.
I suspect for some gun owners, losing the right to bear arms is an awful prospect. To them the consequences of taking away their weapons would be unimaginable; in their minds being disarmed is the equivalent of being neutered, condemned to be innocuous and inconsequential, relegated to the ranks of the servile and subservient.
Three Harleys, Three Aussies, One American Dream  Stephen Starling  pp305-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 16, 2017, 09:05:56 AM
These Harley-Davidsons have served us well, covering 5,000 miles comfortably, speedily, and never letting us down, even in extreme conditions. Easy to ride, with good acceleration and predictable handling, every hour astride them has been a joy. Well, almost — if you leave out the freezing mountain blizzards and sweltering desert sandstorms. Glendale Harley prepared the bikes well and it was reassuring to know they were ready to help, especially when Peter needed a new tyre.
I pull my Australian flag off the screen and untie my silver biker's bell from the handlebars. This bell that Sally bought me is reputed to ward off evil spirits and bring good luck. It certainly worked. I will be sorry to part company with my trusty traveling companion; I am going to miss this Road King's thumpy, lumpy exhaust note.
Three Harleys, Three Aussies, One American Dream  Stephen Starling  p362
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 17, 2017, 09:20:40 AM
It is, in many ways, a demanding way to travel. On a bike, you are exposed to the elements, the vagaries of the roads and the folly of fellow road users. On a bike, there is nowhere to hide. If it is hot, you swelter; if it rains, you get wet; and the biting cold of winter can leave your fingers aching in minutes. On the worst days, rain, cold, cross winds, ice, hail and fog take their turns to make each hour in the saddle a trial of perseverance.
It also has its own delights and joys. On a motorcycle, our lives are disentangled from our usual world, to the extent that everything that matters to us can be packed into a couple of small bags. Everything we need to survive is within arm's reach. The average backpacker carries twice as much, but on a bike there is nowhere to pack anything more and, since we have no space, no need to purchase anything new. Our motto— if you buy a tissue, throw out a tissue— is more than a cute adage. On the road, it is the simple rule we live by, and gives the journey an elegant, joyful logic. You don't need stuff to be happy.
High Road Rider  Mike Hannan  p10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 18, 2017, 09:40:08 AM
Then there is the motorcycle itself. Each bike we have owned has had a personality as distinctive as any living creature, and our relationship with each one has been a familiar mix of pleasure and forbearance. We remember a Ducati that just stopped (possibly for a cappuccino), an AJS that thumped its way to and from work with grim determination, an Indian Chief as tough and reliable as when it was built in 1944, and our BMW R1150GS Adventure, known as Elephant. Even the bike we used on this journey, a Suzuki DL 1000, purchased second-hand in London, had a special character all its own: she is plain, reliable and sure-footed. For us, every motorcycle journey involves three parties, all of whom need to work together. Each has distinct but overlapping responsibilities, vital to the survival of the whole, and in the end our rolling mass is almost a single entity: 450kg of aluminium, flesh, steel and Cordura. It is an ungainly mix of human and machine. In part, it is this synergy that structures our lives and makes our journey special.
High Road Rider  Mike Hannan  pp10-11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 19, 2017, 08:53:12 AM
We knew it would take some time for us to fully appreciate the experience we'd had. My simple recounting of our time there does not begin to touch on what it was really all about, what we took away from it and how we felt about returning one day. At first, no matter how we looked at it, the TT was an anachronism, an event left over from another time that had somehow survived, like a hidden valley of dinosaurs. Certainly, it could not be run in the US, Australia, England or almost anywhere else in the developed world. Health and safety concerns aside, so many people having so much fun with so little supervision simply isn't allowed anymore!
Initially, I took the cynical view that the self-governing Isle of Man allowed the event to continue purely for the income it generated each year. But if that had been the extent of our thoughts it would have sold the TT, and all of those who love it, short. The longer we stayed on the island, the more we became aware of and involved with the history of the race.
High Road Rider  Mike Hannan  pp26-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on January 20, 2017, 07:05:10 AM
So true.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 20, 2017, 09:30:23 AM
We had ridden over the Grossglockner Hochalpenstrasse a few years before during an earlier trip to Austria. That had been a dark, brooding day, and the pass had been closed by snow the previous evening. There were few other vehicles at the toll gates paying the 18 euros to use the road, and it was so wide and empty that we'd blasted our bike away from the gates at full throttle, enjoying the chance to use all of its substantial acceleration. It was an amazing ride to the top over an excellent surface, with a mix of tight hairpin bends and open sweepers climbing relentlessly to the pass. I remember gathering up a few slower riders easily between the corners and arriving at the mist-shrouded top, the Edelweissspitze, grinning like a loon. Jo took a photo of me standing beneath the Edelweissspitze sign, rugged up against the cold with my beanie pulled down over my ears and the clouds hanging heavy behind.
High Road Rider  Mike Hannan  p63
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 21, 2017, 10:59:42 AM
The Oberalp had been much lauded on the bikers' forums and it was certainly not to be missed. We rode it several more times before the summer was through. But in our view not the 'best sweeper road in the world' it was claimed to be. For us, that award had been won years before by an unnamed road in the Anti-Atlas Mountains of Morocco, which managed to combine wonderful engineering, a good surface, almost no traffic, fantastic scenery, good food along the way, no constabulary and clear winter weather perfect for a motorcycle. Such is the pathetic lot of the adventure rider that we eulogise a long-lost mountain road!
High Road Rider  Mike Hannan  p110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 22, 2017, 01:24:57 PM
The road up to the pass was rough, pot-holed and narrow. So narrow that passing a car was impossible, or at least dangerous, unless the car cooperated by moving over in the occasional wider section of road. Unfortunately, my journey coincided with that of a classic sports car club. There were about a dozen cars all built in the 1950s or 1960s, most of them wandering along in a daze at such a low speed I needed to slip Just Sue's clutch on some switchbacks. It wasn't that they were travelling so slowly that caused my aggravation. Rather, it was that they seemed completely oblivious to the drivers behind who weren't quite so relaxed. For my part, I gently nudged Just Sue past one car after another generally slipping around the outside in a tight corner where there was plenty of visibility. Most drivers in the Alps are very considerate and make room as soon as it is safe to do so. These cars, however, were on a touring holiday and clearly didn't know, or didn't care about, the usual rules. They were too busy talking and pointing out the scenery to notice what was behind.
High Road Rider  Mike Hannan  p144
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 23, 2017, 09:29:30 AM
Maria gave me a detailed brief on the apartment and the area's attractions in Italian. I understood nothing but nodded and said "si" at the appropriate junctures. Then, while she was busy explaining something of vital importance about the refrigerator, I noticed a framed photo on the wall. When I looked closely it was of Maria, with a man I took to be her husband, both in riding leathers, posed around a shiny Moto Guzzi by the Arctic Circle marker in Norway.
I let out an exclamation and we both stood there grinning and smiling at the recognition that we were not strangers after all but lost members of a common tribe and that we did, indeed, have a common language. I explained that Jo was travelling with me but had to return home for her mother's funeral and that she would rejoin me soon and gave Maria the link to our website.
High Road Rider  Mike Hannan  p149-50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 24, 2017, 08:41:32 AM
We often come home from an adventure to have our friends ask how the holiday was, as though living on the back of a bike for a few months or a year is like a Mediterranean cruise or a week at the beach. Our response is usually to say that if what we do is a holiday, then we need to get back to work for a rest! Maybe it is a conceit on our part but we have come to think of a journey as a special activity not related to a holiday; something that has its own rewards that need to be earned through application. The stories we hear along the way have as much value for the way they have been discovered as for their content. For us, even the simple things we discover through our own efforts are of worth while the profound loses its impact when it is handed out with a cut lunch. Shielded by hubris like this, our journeys are guided mainly by our curiosity and willingness to investigate and made worthwhile by what we discover, often about ourselves, along the way.
High Road Rider  Mike Hannan  p195
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 25, 2017, 09:19:59 AM
I changed over the brake pads in a few moments in the driveway of the villa but there was nowhere to park Just Sue sufficiently level to allow me to change the oil. My solution was to pack the equipment for the job into the back-box and ride a few hundred metres to a section of road with a wide flat parking area, littered with rubbish. I got organised quickly and had already dropped the oil into a plastic basin purchased cheaply for the purpose when the Municipal Police arrived in their little blue car demanding to know why I was dumping my waste in their pristine waterway. I resisted the temptation to point out that the stream was so polluted that a little of Just Sue's precious bodily fluid wouldn't make any difference, explained why I was there and then went about decanting the oil into several empty
containers I had with me and stowing them in the back box. While this was going on, two more police cars arrived bringing the total number of officers supervising me to five. Two of them, for some reason I didn't understand, started to lend a hand while the others stood by talking on their mobile phones. By the time I was cleaned up and ready to go the discussions with head office were in animated overdrive so I started the bike, thanked the two officers who had assisted and caught the attention of the guy who seemed to be the most senior. I smiled and indicated that I was done and leaving and that the area was the same rubbish tip it had been when I arrived. He stopped talking and stared at me for a moment, then waved me away with a shrug. As I dawdled up the road I slapped Just Sue on the tank.
"That was a mistake, old girl," I said out loud. Just Sue just purred on as a bike should with a belly full of new oil and some nice new brakes. "We better not do that again."
High Road Rider  Mike Hannan  pp202-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 26, 2017, 04:43:58 PM
The mountains had, however, affected us deeply. It was not just the terrifying beauty of the place, mountains (and great deserts) elsewhere share something of that aura. What sets the Alps apart is the stories they contain. I have often said that the most beautiful place I have been was the Tanami Desert in north-western Australia. It is stunningly beautiful and frighteningly flat and empty. There is a place near the centre of that desert where you can stand on a slight hill and turn through 360 degrees to observe a flat horizon with no other rise in the ground and not even a substantial tree to break the line of ice blue sky. It is a place where you can feel your own isolation and frailty in your bones. But the stories of the desert are hardly accessible. They are ancient stories blown on the red sands and buried in the very earth itself. In the Alps, the stories are everywhere, often competing for your attention and always sparking curiosity.
High Road Rider  Mike Hannan  p210
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 27, 2017, 09:53:12 AM
Dave
I can also remember him wrapping himself in cabbage leaves to stay warm in the winter when he rode his BSA Bantam motorcycle to work. He'd come home stinking, but at the time it didn't seem particularly out the ordinary; it was just something my dad did, and he didn't give a monkey's what other people might think. It certainly never bothered me either, because I was always much more interested in the bike itself than what my dad wore when he rode it.
He got a Norton Dominator after that, which was his dream bike, but unfortunately he only lived the dream for a few weeks. Dad was starting it up one day when it kicked back, catapulting him over the backyard wall. He ruptured his Achilles tendon in the process and so he was forced to downgrade to a Puch electric scooter - he could no longer kick up a motorcycle to start it - and this was the only bike he could operate with his damaged tendon. Not having a bike at all was unthinkable; nothing would keep Dad off two wheels.
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  p8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 28, 2017, 08:07:19 AM
Simon
My uncle George, who was a close family friend, was the one who was really bike-mad when I was a bairn, and I aspired to have motorbikes like him one day. He and my auntie Hilda lived in Lamesley, near a big crossroads that was notorious for crashes, often involving lads on scooters and motorbikes riding up from the Team Valley estate. Auntie Hilda always had old bedsheets ripped up ready to use as bandages, and Uncle George would pick up pieces of broken bikes off the road and put them in his back garden, which I loved to investigate.
Hearing about all the accidents didn't put me off at all; quite the contrary. I simply could not wait to ride a motorbike. It wasn't just the thought of hearing the roar of the engine and zooming down the street ten times faster than I did on my push-bike. I loved everything about motorbikes and scooters, even when they were standing still. It was a thrill for me just to smell the oil and petrol or touch the shiny spokes on the wheels of Uncle George's bikes.
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  p44
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 29, 2017, 06:37:50 PM
Simon
A lad called Alan Smith who lived a couple of doors and had a bright yellow Suzuki TS250, and I'd watch him tear off down the road on it. "How jammy is he?" I'd think, longing to have a go.
"Can you ride?" Alan asked me out of the blue one day, when he saw me admiring his bike.
"Yeh," I lied, caught up in the thrill of the moment.
"Want a go?"
"Wey aye, man!"
Alan was a neighbour and, with me being a big lad, he clearly had no idea I was only fourteen years old. I wasn't going to enlighten him, and I got myself on the bike and rode it up the street and back again before he could change his mind. It was bloody terrifying and electrifying all at once. God knows how I managed to stay upright because I didn't have any clue what I was doing and the bike weighed a ton, but somehow I survived with my with pride, and Alan's bike, intact.
"Thanks!" I beamed, giving Alan a grin as wide as the Tyne bridge. "That was mint!"
I was totally bitten. Feeling the power of the engine and breathing in the smell of oil and fuel just blew my head off. Skint or not, I was going to get a motorbike of my own one day, but for the time being I had to make do with buses.
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  p71
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 30, 2017, 08:47:45 AM
Dave
Not long after Mam died I split up with the girlfriend I had at the time. She asked me to pick her up after work and take her to a party one night and I was absolutely knackered but foolishly agreed. Unfortunately, I was riding my Benly along Queen's Gate when I lost concentration and had my first motorbike accident, T-boning a Jaguar XJ6. A cloud of goose-down from the big padded coat I was wearing floated down the Cromwell Road and my girlfriend ran out of where she worked to see the feathers flying and me lying in the road beside my smashed bike. My glasses had disintegrated and I was in a hell of a state, but as soon as she saw I was alive and could just about hobble to my feet, my girlfriend declared: "Oh! I thought you were dead but you're not! That's good. I'll go to the party on my own then."
Needless to say, that was the end of that relationship. It was the end of my bike, which was written off. All I was left with was cracked ribs and lots of bruising, and I had to take three weeks off work to recover.
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  p126
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 31, 2017, 09:37:05 AM
Dave
As soon as I was well enough Si phoned me up to organise a get-together, as he thought it would do me good. I ended up going down to Newcastle, and one day we passed the local Harley Davidson dealer, Just Harleys, on our travels. Si and I both looked at each other.
"Shall we?" we giggled mischievously. We asked if we could go for a test drive, and to our surprise we were immediately given two gleaming Harleys.
We were both smitten by the bikes, and even though we really couldn't afford them, we ended up buying one each on hire purchase. I got a Heritage Springer Softail and Si had a Springer Softail that had a bit of a chopper vibe.
"Janes gonna kill me!" Si said, but actually she was brilliant about it. She'd just lined herself up a new job as a carer after years of staying home with the kids, and she felt pleased that she was bringing in some money, and that Si had got a treat like this after all the hard work he'd put in over the years.
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  pp174-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 01, 2017, 11:39:09 AM
Dave
Soon after that me and Si went off on a fishing trip on the new bikes, heading north to Inverness then via Ullapool to Loch Assynt, and on to Cape Wrath - the north-western-most tip of Britain - and up towards Loch Drumbeg. It was an epic trip. Si had no windscreen on his bike and so I deliberately rode through cowpats when I was in front, hoping he'd catch one in the kisser. On the open road his Harley vibrated so much the lenses were shaken out of his glasses. He only had his sunglasses as back-up, and so we couldn't ride anywhere in the dark.
One day we caught so much trout we ended up swapping some for shepherd's pie in a local hostelry, which was lush. The next morning I woke up to a snorting sound and looked out of the window of our B&B to see a right kerfuffle going on.
"Kingie! A Highland cow's trying to mount me Harley!" I cried.
"Eee you're right, man! I think it's the fringed leather saddle-bags that have confused it!"
We ran outside in our underpants and had quite a task un-coupling the randy beast from the £13K bulk of chrome, steel and new leather. All three of us must have been a sight for sore eyes.
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  pp175-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 02, 2017, 03:06:32 PM
Dave
We picked up our motorbikes in Windhoek, at a BMW garage, and were offered 650s but we asked for 1200s so we could look good as we rode across the Namibian desert. This was a massive mistake, as neither of us had ridden off-road or on sand before, and we soon found out you had to go at 80 kph or you just fell off. This required enormous concentration and energy on such big bikes, and we fell off regularly anyhow, which was physically and psychologically crippling. At one point Si just shot off his bike, did a cartwheel and blotted out the sun, leaving a mushroom cloud of sand in his wake. Every time he came off I did too, and vice versa.
"Bloody hell, Si, we re like lemmings jumping off a cliff," I said.
"You're not wrong. What were we thinking of, Dave? This is madness!"
The river beds were our nemesis. The only way to get through was to ride faster than your right mind told you to and get the bike on a plane, just like a speedboat on water. In theory this keeps the front wheel up and the rear wheel tractoring through the soft ground, but it was incredibly difficult to do, and when you fell off it was like being hit in the chest with a three-ton bag of flour.
We were black, blue and sweating like pigs in leather blankets by the end of it. We did more than a thousand kilometres across the desert by the time we finished, travelling to the very north of Namibia.
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  pp214-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 03, 2017, 11:16:33 AM
Dave
We had a great time taking part in the free-for-all Mad Sunday ride, which is open to all-comers. The Monkey bikes weren't fast by anybody's standards but were bloody good fun and we reached the dizzy speed of 65mph on a downhill bit, keeping to the left so faster riders could pass.
"You do realise this could be interesting, having us pair tootling along while superbikes rage past at 180mph," Si had pointed out to John Stroud.
"Good. I like interesting," Stroudie smiled. "Besides, you were the ones who picked the Monkey bikes."
"Yes, but that was because they were the only ones we could get on the catamaran. To think we could have had racing bikes..."
We liked 'interesting' too, if the truth be told, and just being in the midst of this historical spectacle and being immersed in the smell and noise of thousands of bikes was a wonderful experience, even if I was on something that had loud pipes and a tartan seat, and looked like a Bay City Rollers memorial bike.
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  p218
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 04, 2017, 09:15:43 AM
Dave
It turned d out one of Muriel's relatives had worked as a cook in the royal household, and the luxurious but incredibly heavy recipes had been passed down into her family.
"That's amazing!"
"Thank you. You must try this one too..."
"OK then, Muriel. Blimey, I don't think I'll need feeding for a week after this. I'm right royally stuffed."
After we sampled Muriel's fabulously calorific food we nearly couldn't walk. I was filmed getting on my Ducati afterwards and a motorcycle magazine commented that I looked like a pot-bellied pig mounting an antelope. It was cruel, but unfortunately rather accurate!
"I've just realised, we don't actually have to polish off every single thing we're offered, do we?" I said to Si.
"I was thinking the same myself," he replied, loosening his belt. "I think we need to be a bit more strategic, Dave. And not greedy."
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  p269
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 05, 2017, 07:57:24 PM
Dave
"I've got a pain in me leg," he winced as I reached his side, which made me relax a bit. At least he was compos mentis, and the pain didn't appear to be too severe as he was talking normally.
I called Jane and went with Si to the hospital, where the news turned out to be not too bad at all. Thanks to the fact he'd been wearing some really good leathers, Si had got away with soft-tissue damage to one knee and a bash to the base of his spine.
His bike had not been so lucky; it was a write-off.
"What on earth happened, mate?"
A woman in a Renault Clio pulled out in front of me so I tipped the bike. I'd have T-boned her otherwise."
After he dropped it, Si's bike had skidded across the road and hit the Clio while he shot off in the other direction, into oncoming traffic.
"It was a bloody miracle nobody hit me, Dave. I was lying there going: "Oh no, man, this is it!" It was quite surreal. Then the woman got out of her car wearing bobbly pink pyjamas and I was saying: "I'm OK, sweetheart." Then someone asked me: "Do you want your lid off?" I said, "I'll take me own lid off, thanks, and when I pulled off me helmet some woman yelled: "Bloody hell! It's a Hairy Biker!" Dude, you couldn't make it up."
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  pp270-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 06, 2017, 08:42:54 AM
Dave
We also got to ride a Cossack Ural Mars 3 with a sidecar, the same as the very first bike I ever bought in my youth. It was an old knacker and we set off down the main street, Nevsky Prospect, which is a very busy six-lane highway, with me on the bike and Si in the sidecar. I found it hilarious... until we broke down, that was.
"Have you pulled the clutch in?" Si shouted. He was very worried because buses and cars where whizzing past us and we were causing a  dangerous obstruction. "Course I have! Bloody hell, I'll have to get out and kick-start it."
I eventually got the bike going again, but unfortunately it shot off sideways across Nevsky Propspect.
"We're gonna die!" Si shouted. "Bloody hell, Dave, this is it! The end!"
It wasn't the end, fortunately. Several days later, after getting to Finland, we found ourselves sitting outside the cabin we were staying at near the Baltic Sea. The villagers were all out painting next door, and Si and I were cooking and sharing our food with them. We did blazing salmon with pepper and lemon on a wood fire and made the most mouth-watering rye bread; it all tasted divine.
The Hairy Bikers  Blood, Sweat and Tyres  Si King and Dave Myers  p343
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 07, 2017, 10:09:16 AM
The first job I enjoyed in the motorcycle industry was later in that year when, as a kid almost straight from school, I answered an ad for a Junior Spare Parts Assistant with the Triumph motorcycle importers and distributors, Hazell and Moore, in Sydney. I knew the place well enough, for I had often pressed my nose against the show-room's display window at night to admire the gleaming Norton, Triumphs, Panther, James, NSU and flashy Indian machines that littered the floor with some profusion.
Of course, I didn't know what a spare part was, but I was the proud possessor of my ancient Model 18 Norton, so I knew what a motorbike was, and that was apparently enough for the company. I will never know why they decided to employ me, but I was leaping out of my skin to get into the industry and I suppose there was more than a little of my rampant enthusiasm on display. It must have counted for something.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 08, 2017, 08:35:14 AM
I sat on that tiny - about 5 inch x 9 inch rubber pad which was referred to as a 'pillion seat' and smirked at the passing peasantry as Harry swung on the 3T Triumph kick-starter and then with no warning at all, we leapt from the gutter and flew along Campbell Street to the adverse-cambered left hander into Castlereagh Street.
A tram had just left its stop and was half-way across our path as, with its bell clanging like a funereal dirge we slid sideways across its bows, missing the thing by a coat of paint and then hurled ourselves up the steep climb which followed. Of course I was desperately trying to juggle three small parcels and hang on for dear life, while unintentionally leaning back at about forty-five degrees and on the very lip of that tiny rubber pad.
Thankfully, an ultra-swift gear-change allowed me to bury my nose into Harry's bony spine and to slide forward about a tissue paper's thickness, the while stuffing those parcels down the front of my shirt and grabbing hold of the base of the bike's single saddle. How that somewhat agricultural engine managed to hold itself together during that frightful journey I will never know, for it was wrung out to nearly peak engine revs before it was mercifully allowed the temporary relief of the occasional selection of a higher gear.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p39
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 09, 2017, 09:14:08 AM
At the top of the scale of Near Misses was the occasion when I was riding my little 125cc James along at a fair clip in Sydney's CBD when a brand-new Jag suddenly pulled out from the gutter in front of me - yes, the classic right-hand turn in front of the rapidly approaching motorcyclist - and screeched to a stop side-on leaving me with nowhere to go but to crank the bike over and run wide into on-coming traffic.
As the footrest dug in I reefed the little bike upright again just as a Council truck whooshed past in the opposite direction with its accompanying blast of fetid air, stinging grains of sand and little bits of paper, the horn blaring. The little bike was fitted with a (useless) rectangular mirror on the right side of the handlebar in which, because of high-frequency vibration, everything was always heavily blurred. When I pulled into the gutter to settle myself down I glanced down to discover that the mirror head was gone and that its mounting arm was pointing straight back at me like an accusing finger! You can't get much closer than that and expect to get away with it!
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p46
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 10, 2017, 08:39:52 AM
To my amazement, the first thing that the flashed into sight was a Triumph outfit, with a Triumph racer perched where the sidecar body would normally be, the racing machine strapped securely to a timber platform. The gigantic driver of the sidecar (who was bereft of balaclava, cap or goggles, but was wearing a khaki Army great-coat) hung his huge frame into the corner to help keep the outfit on an even keel, while the front wheel chattered and crabbed across the road. A pillion passenger hung likewise, one palsied hand gripping the rear guard of the racing bike, the other trying to hold his leather cap in place. But that wasn't all there was to it, as I marvelled at the apparent expertise of a sidecar driver who seemed to know more about the roadway ahead than I did, or who may have possessed a form of supersonic eyesight, because the visibility ahead was down to almost zero!
As the outfit rushed past me, it disclosed another outfit it seemed to be towing- another Triumph outfit, but this one was an out and out racing machine - with a man steering it, and with another racing Triumph solo on the sidecar platform! But rather than a tow-rope between them, or even a chain, a solid bar was mounted between them, the racing outfit's engine howling on full song as it provided its own power, the open megaphone exhausts bellowing frightfully. Far from simply being towed, the second engine was actually helping the road-going outfit to haul its heavy load over the Mountains!
A forlorn passenger sat, humped shapelessly behind the driver of the second outfit, which was an even greater surprise, but the greatest shock of all arrived moments later when the two heavily-laden outfits thundered past to display yet another pair of racing solos being towed from the chassis rails of the rear outfit by stout ropes. Two grim-visaged riders clung to the handlebars of the two machines for their very lives, exerting little control over their respective fates as they alternatively banged together and sprang apart, the two ropes twanging like violin strings.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p53
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 11, 2017, 05:41:34 PM
And just as a footnote to the story, the Indian factory was the largest motorcycle factory in the world back in the 1920s and the designs were sometimes years ahead of the several other US manufacturers. For example, a 1914 "Electric Special" Indian could be purchased with an electric starter, a 1000cc engine and a crude form of suspension by quarter-elliptic leaf springs front and rear, surmounted by a pair of well-sprung single saddles. It has been said there were not many 'E.S' models made but they were listed in the local catalogue, so were available to eager buyers.
A major advance for motorcycling in general was Indian's invention of the twist-grip throttle control, albeit on the left handlebar. This finally did away with the lawnmower-like control lever which was in use by other manufacturers until this invention. As we are well aware, the twist-grip throttle control is in universal use on motorcycles to this day, and will probably remain so forever.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p61
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on February 12, 2017, 06:28:37 AM
Thanks for these Biggles. I used to read Lester's column is many magazines over the years, usually with a smile.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 12, 2017, 12:44:21 PM
Because of my short legs, and a certain degree of puniness, I learned a neat trick all by myself, and I learned it the hard way, a simple trick I hereby pass on to all you motorcyclists out there who may be having trouble lifting your machines onto a centre stand, for almost everybody tries to do it in precisely the wrong way.
The way it should be done is as follows:- Push the centre stand lever down with your left foot - that's your left foot (not the right foot as almost everybody seems to do, but which results in them being hopelessly off balance!), and when the two stand lugs are on the ground, you face your bike, take your hands off the 'bars, and, by now perfectly balanced and not splay-footed, grasp a convenient frame rail, bracket or dual seat base and lift the bike easily onto the centre stand. Try it for yourselves and be prepared to be amazed at how much easier it is.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p65
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 13, 2017, 01:21:36 PM
Think of this: a motorcycle outfit is probably the most unwieldy device known to Civilised Man. All the power and braking effort is generated by the motorcycle, and that is where most of the weight is. The weight of the sidecar itself cannot be lifted clear of the ground by mortal man, but a Newtonian Theory becomes fact when it enters a left-hand corner too quickly with no-one in it and the driver unaware of what is certain to happen.
In the Newtonian effect, the sidecar then becomes weightless and floats into mid-air with great enthusiasm, cranking the left-turning outfit hard over until the right footrest digs into the ground. The trick is this; you come into your corner fairly briskly and change down a gear, tweaking the throttle open at the same time as you turn the handlebars. The bike actually drives itself round the sidecar, the third wheel lightly skimming the road, the tail-end stepping out a little with a few degrees of opposite lock applied. Go into the same left-hander with the power off briefly and you terrify the natives as you exit under full power while waving the wheel about in the air.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p79
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on February 13, 2017, 01:31:34 PM
I only ever once traveled in a sidecar... as a teen, a mate fitted a two seater lounge chair onto his Harley outfit.
We sat facing the bike and the pillion. Even had seatbelts fitted, and wore helmets, and the cops STILL booked us!
4 on a bike was a no-no. :law  :-((( :rofl  (Whyalla, SA, circa 1965)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on February 13, 2017, 01:42:34 PM
I don't think that wearing a helmet on public roads was made mandatory until 1972?
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 14, 2017, 10:47:24 AM
But the cruncher came when the tirade subsided and a chill voice from the sidecar I could not even see finished the dressing down with the question: "and why don't you grease your bloody brakes?"
It was all too much! So the brakes squealed a bit when they were working, so what? If had greased the brake shoes as she suggested, it's a fair bet we would still be trying to pull the outfit up this very day!
But there we sat, with not a soul in sight, and I couldn't see the side of the road to know whether we were in the middle of it, poised on the brink of a small cliff or about to slam into a tall gum tree.
It was an awful feeling and not at all helped by the less than friendly advice I was still being offered by the sidecar's incumbent, who had been my wife for a little too long. Who cared, at that time, whether she should have heeded her sister's friendly advice about the charming radio announcer; or run away with the local Preacher, married the randy butcher, all of whom, I was advised anew, having  been candidates for her affections at one time or another? Why did she think I was trying to kill the both of us? Why on earth would she think it was my fault everything went black so suddenly? Why did I turn out to be an idiot some village was out there looking for? Why didn't I buy her Uncle's tattered old Vanguard motor car?
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p87
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 15, 2017, 10:15:26 AM
The Triumph twist-grip on the bike was badly damaged for some reason, and was entirely beyond repair, with no other stock available for several days, and the normal 7/8" twist-grip couldn't be used because it was too small in diameter.
There happened to be a one-inch twist-grip lying about which was once fitted to an unknown pre-war motorcycle, and this was very easily screwed to the left side of the handlebars, but which then of course worked in precisely the wrong way. Roll it forward to go, and back again to slow down.
Nothing to it, you would think... forward to go, roll back to back-off. Oh, if it were only that simple, because he had ridden motorcycles on the road, and had raced them as well for years, with a twist-grip on the right side which opened the way they still do to this day. Oh, and there was also a clutch lever on the left handlebar to think of, the operation of which made it impossible to ride the bike with any degree of smoothness. Can you imagine rolling the throttle forward, then back again as you grab at the clutch lever, and then trying to ease the clutch out gain while rolling the twist-grip forward? No? Neither I. As for moving off from a standing start?
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p91
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 16, 2017, 09:09:10 AM
Whenever he needed work done on his AJS single he would always ask for a quote first. I would have to give him a vague idea of what it would cost and I always erred on the high side and explained it was by no means a firm figure, but it made no difference to him whenever he came to pick the bike up.
"What are ya gonna stiff me for this time?" he would invariably ask. No matter what the job cost he would always complain about the price. "That's a bit steep, isn't it?" was his stock reply, and on one occasion I stared him in the face and uttered those very words at the same time as he did, while he (again) politely asked if I could "take the edge off it a bit."
On another occasion when he asked the cost of servicing I said softly "Funchburble."
"That's a bit steep isn't it?" he asked, for the umpteenth time.
"What is?" I innocently replied.
"The price you just quoted," he said.
"I didn't mention a price," I gloated, "I said Funchburble."
"Funchburble?" he queried, with an upward inflection, "What's Funchburble got to do with it?"
"Nothing" I replied, more than a little tersely, and sick of his attitude. "You caught yourself out that time. You complained about the price of the job - again - without being given a price to begin with." He was not amused at the jibe and paid up with a bad grace then stamped briskly out of the place.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p103
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 17, 2017, 09:25:38 AM
The smile had gone as he took off, bug-eyed and grim-visaged, towards the three-lane Victoria Road at ninety degrees to the traffic stream. I caught him almost as he burst out of side lane, grabbed the tail of the scooter and leaned back to dig my heels in, while shouting loudly "Brakes! Brakes!"
He dragged me towards the middle of the road and planted his own feet hard down as he heaved on the front of the scooter to gain extra purchase. Over my right shoulder I caught a flash of green as the lights changed. Oh, Gawd!
We pulled up almost at the median strip as a phalanx of cars leaped away from the lights and bore down on us, both of the scooter's wheels clear of the ground, its engine screaming like a Banshee, the rear wheel spinning crazily inches away from the Jewels.
With feet tangled and tripping over one another, we shuffled, sobbing with terror, onto the median strip as traffic zoomed by in both directions, the Vespa engine still on full song, the bike now miraculously in neutral.
I dragged the clutch lever in and strained to roll the throttle back as we waited for a month till everything on four wheels sped by. Chastened, he apologised as I wheeled the scooter back to the curb, only then discovering that the sole of my left boot had been peeled back and was laughing at me as I walked.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p113
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 18, 2017, 09:20:47 AM
The Dream - or Nightmare, as almost everybody called it - had a couple of extra tricks up its sleeve to trap the unwary. First of all, it had a gear change lever on the left side, where all British motorcycles had more 'normal' right foot change; it had an engine-speed clutch on the end of the crankshaft - spinning at four times the speed it would be if it was fitted on the gearbox main-shaft - and (horror of horrors!) the gearbox employed the dreaded 'rotary' gear-change.
That so-called rotary gear-change was tricky at the time, because you would push the pedal down from neutral to select first gear, then down again for second, down again for third, and down again yet again to select top gear. If, or more often when, you pushed the pedal down again, you would be back where you started... in neutral.
Then, and this is the trickiest part of all, if in your confusion at apparently missing a gear, you pushed the pedal down again, it would select first gear once more, lock the back wheel, spin sideways, snap at least one of the rear chain adjusters, and then happily pelt you straight over the handlebars!
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p122
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 19, 2017, 03:55:17 PM
"What," he trumpeted, about a meter and half over my head, "the Hell do you think you're doing?" I noticed that his lips moved, but the large teeth didn't. They were, unbelievably, so large they needed a conscious effort to stop them being spat several meters up the road. I wondered what would happen to them whenever he sneezed; perhaps he whipped them out first?
"I'm stopping these cars from exceeding the speed limit." I announced, hoping to receive some acknowledgement for my services. He looked at me with the same amazed expression you would expect if I had suddenly divested myself of my garments and stood starkers in front of him, or had decided to have a leak onto his boots. I thought for a second he was going to faint and that I might end up underneath him - a daunting prospect indeed.
"You're doin' what?" he bellowed, making my eyes water with the draught, "that's what we're supposed to be doin'! 'Snot up to you to do that!"
He then offered to arrest me for some offence or other, but I hastened to point out to him that surely one could not be taken to task for trying to prevent people from committing an offence, and thus it could then hardly be an offence in its own right. He half closed one eye and gazed skywards as I could see him struggling with what I considered to be the logic of my statement.
A few seconds later he nodded as though some Providence had provided him with the answer to his dilemma.
"Come on, you," he said, as he lead me down to where the BSA was parked. "Let's have a look at your bike!"
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p134
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 20, 2017, 08:43:26 AM
When riding a 'naked' bike like this, with the machine leaping about underneath me like a live thing, occasionally nodding its head and twitching its tail while trying to assert control, the wind tugging firmly at me the while, I often felt almost as though I was throwing myself into the corners and flashing along on my own down the long straights. The machine seemed then form only a part of one entity, albeit a very large part, its presence allowing me to do this as though I was managing to achieve this nigh-blissful state all on my own.
On these occasions, I reckon I felt very much like a type of human/mechanical Centaur; not like one of those mythical half horse/ half man hybrids we see in Classic Fables or in ancient illustrations but more like a serious rider feeling as one with the bike he - or she, of course - is riding.
There are few pursuits on this earth which come within a bull's roar of that feeling when the open road beckons, the weather is kind, the bike is well prepared and the mood is right. Well, now that I think of it, perhaps there are one or two, or even more, which might compare but a hard squirt into the countryside on your motorcycle along with some mates still remains pretty much out there all on its own!
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p140
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on February 20, 2017, 08:52:11 AM
 :like
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on February 20, 2017, 04:49:00 PM
 ++
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 21, 2017, 09:06:59 AM
Two things occurred almost at once not long after I fired up the little 350cc MAC Velo one morning and my (first) wife climbed, complaining as usual, onto the pillion. The bike was resting on its stout prop stand and she, again as usual, stood on the nearside pillion footrest before swinging her leg over and settling down, which of course meant heaving the bike up with its added burden as I slipped into gear and took off briskly, as usual.
Two right-handers later and nicely on the boil I lined up a favourite left-hander and cranked the bike into it, to suddenly discover that the prop-stand was still down! Of course it dug in and spun the bike almost completely side-on, whereupon - almost out of control- it flopped over to the right. I tried to dab my right foot to the ground but discovered, to my horror, that the errant kick-starter crank had slipped up the inside of my trouser leg and I simply couldn't move my foot off the right footrest!
OK, there I am, trying to flick a badly bent prop-stand up out of harm's way on the bike's left side, at the same time trying to lift my foot off the footrest on the other side to remove that accursed kick-start lever from inside my trouser leg, while fighting a minor tank-slapper as we are spearing, only just under control, towards on-coming traffic. I am also being heartily abused by an irate pillion passenger who is belting me about the head with one of those little wicker baskets which were all the rage with newly-pubescent females at the time!
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p152
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 22, 2017, 09:29:37 AM
An example is the Clark Cable Company which along with Bowden, supplied carburettor, magneto, clutch and brake control cables to most major motorcycle manufacturers.  As just one example, a Clark cable purchased from the company for, say, a 6T Triumph clutch, was precisely the same as one which could be purchased from the distributors in a 'genuine Triumph' spare parts box, and it sold for less than one-third the price of the 'Triumph genuine article', for Clark supplied the same cables to the factories, to be labelled as 'genuine' as they exported to Omodeis. The same applied to handlebars for most of the British motorcycles, along with control levers footrest and other rubbers, which were supplied by original manufacturers to the various factories as genuine spares. They were exported to Omodeis for sale as simple, 'over-the-counter' spare parts, with never a claim to them being in any way the genuine article. Little wonder the major distributors were off-side with that small company with its giant turn-over.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p170
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 23, 2017, 08:53:08 AM
One of the finest Japanese machines to reach these shores, the late and well-lamented Bridgestone, became the "Kidney Stone", while perhaps the saddest nick-name of all belonged to those early Kawasakis. They were referred to then and occasionally now- as Cack-ya-Dackies, or, even worse, as Crack-a-Slackie. That first nick-name could well be descriptive of the monstrous, ill-handling and under-braked 500cc three cylinder Mach 3 Kawasaki of 50-odd years ago - the bike also referred to as the Widow Maker- but Crack-a-Slackie? The mind boggles!
That very first Honda Gold Wing motorcycle I road-tested for Revs magazine way back in 1974 was branded by almost everybody as the Lead Wing - that's lead as in base metal, not lead as in 'ahead of the pack'. It was perhaps an unfortunate name to bestow upon that first example of a very advanced design, which just might have been close to the mark at the time. It's hardly a Lead Wing today, however!
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p182
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Williamson on February 23, 2017, 09:17:38 AM
One of the finest Japanese machines to reach these shores, the late and well-lamented Bridgestone .....

My late older brother, Jeff (would've been 70 next May), bought a Bridgestone 350GTR back in the late 60's.  He hid it in the garage where Mum or Dad never went.  Took me for a ride as pillion, it was effing fast.

Whilst he was away doing his National Service, a school mate and I took it for a ride, lucky we got it back in one piece, lucky I'm here to tell the story.

When Jeff was home on leave one weekend he took it for a ride, the home 'phone rang around 3:00am, Jeff was in hospital, came off the bike, couple days later he was home again.  Never saw the bike again.

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 24, 2017, 09:16:16 AM
A nubile blonde minced up to the counter one day and said "I need a jockstrap for my boyfriend. He told me to ask for one here." I was about to suggest she go to the sports store Mick Simmons, which was block or so away, but with a (knowing) smile asked her what size she wanted. With a (melting) smile she cooed "Eighteen inches," which I confess took me aback. "You know," she added "those elastic things you use to tie your luggage with."
I know her boyfriend was having a lend of her - for which no man on earth could blame him, the swine - because he had sent her to get an 'occie-strap', luggage elastic, or to use its correct title, an Aerolastic, of the appropriate length. We had no shortage of those things and they lived in a couple of boxes just under one of the tall counters.
"They're downstairs," I said smugly, "I'll go down and get a couple." With that I took several steps to where one of the boxes lay, bending my knees as I did so and thus pretending to go downstairs into the non-existent basement, rummaged around for a while and re-emerged, straightening up as I did so to make it appear I had just come back up again.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p189
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on February 24, 2017, 01:51:07 PM
 :rofl :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on February 24, 2017, 06:42:12 PM
 :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 25, 2017, 08:59:50 AM
As she was paying for them, another employee, the late, lamented Robert Radnidge, of no little fame, strolled casually behind me with a large cardboard box over his shoulder. "Look out for the stairs!" she shouted as Rob approached what she thought was a flight of stairs. He apparently levitated across the gaping hole where the stairs were thought to be, and grinned over his shoulder at me as he vanished behind one of the fixtures. The girl looked at me as I raised my eyebrows in mock surprise, then she half-closed one eye as she stretched to tip-toes and leaned across the counter to where she could then clearly see the box containing the Aerolastics.
She said nothing, but unfortunately I have seen the look she gave me upon the faces of several other females I have known over too many years, and it was not a sight I was comfortable with or would ever wish to see again. Unhappily I still see that fearsome expression from time to time.
Vintage Morris  Lester Morris  p189
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on February 25, 2017, 09:11:36 AM
 :rofl
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on February 25, 2017, 12:09:23 PM
 :crackup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 26, 2017, 06:03:53 PM
About twenty years ago, my brother Dave and his wife Pat bought some land and a cabin in the Alaskan wilderness. Their home is in Colorado but they spend their summers roughing it up north and, although I have never been there, I have always wanted to go. It's a long and expensive trip for a working man and not easily attainable, but after years of planning, saving, and obtaining a two-month leave of absence from work, this trip was now a reality. I'd tried to convince friends to go along, but I couldn't find anyone else crazy enough or with enough time off to dedicate themselves to such an undertaking. In my opinion, if you're going to do a motorcycle ride to the northernmost, it's only reasonable to feel that one should start at the southernmost. "Go big or stay home ," as I've heard it said. So off I went, alone, toward Key West, Florida, to establish the starting point for my epic ride of a lifetime- at the age of sixty.
Just Cruizin'  Douglas Miller  pp2-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 27, 2017, 09:09:15 AM
Then I feel something tapping on my left foot. I look down and see my shifter pedal rocking loosely, back and forth. I leave the highway at Exit 205 and coast around the corner to stop on the side of the road. Inspecting the flaccid shifter pedal, I discover that I can manipulate it by hand through the gears and it feels stable, but as soon as I try to shift it with my foot, it becomes dislodged and useless again. A guy walks over from his front yard to see if he can be of assistance and agrees that it will require more than we can do here on the side of the road. He tells me there is a Harley dealership just five miles north, at Exit 210, so I decide to attempt it. I manipulate the transmission into second gear and start off, back onto the highway, where I am able to get to third gear before the pedal once again becomes dislodged... but that is enough to get me to the speed required for highway travel. At four in the afternoon, I limp into Rossiter's Harley- in Sarasota, Florida, and park my crippled motorcycle in front of the service bay door. At 5:30 that very day I ride away, stripped shifter shaft replaced with a new one, and a fully functional bike. Harley-Davidson is known for its care of its traveling family, and I will see this type of service again before the trip is concluded.
Just Cruizin'  Douglas Miller  p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 28, 2017, 08:58:56 PM
We attract some attention at a rest stop (this happens to us a lot, thanks to Jim's social skills). When Jim tells some electric company workers about the trip, they donate several bottles of ice-cold water from their cooler and offer words of support and encouragement. People seem to be doing this sort of thing... generous, supportive gestures. I feel like I have a lot of people, even total strangers, cheering me on. I am also grateful for the support I get from those reading, commenting, and supporting me through my Facebook posts. It makes the mile after mile drudgery so much easier knowing that you are there. I also confess to Jim and Terry that I'd had thoughts of turning back and giving up, but meeting up with them has rejuvenated my attitude and determination. Their help and support has been invaluable- I owe both of my friends much gratitude and a great deal of appreciation. Tonight, it's the Motel 6 in Socorro, New Mexico. We rode about 400 miles today, and hopefully we will make it to Colorado tomorrow.
Just Cruizin'  Douglas Miller  p38
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 01, 2017, 09:42:26 AM
Cruising along, my attention is grabbed by a flash of something in the low gully on the right side of the road... grizzlies! I slow and make a U-turn. I stop safely, well past them on the other side of the road, take out my phone, set up the camera function, and slip it into my jacket pocket. I ride slowly back past the bears, make another U-turn, and slowly approach the three large brown beasts on the same side of the road where they are grazing. I stop, leave my motor running holding my clutch lever, prepared to flee if necessary. I know that grizzly bears are fast and agile. They can run forty miles per hour so, if one decides to attack, I have little or no chance of escaping. I have knowingly put myself at a disadvantage. One large bear glances up at me, then goes back to grazing, then glances up again, and back to grazing. This happens two or three times when I decide it's time to make my move if I'm going to get a picture. The situation is extremely tense as I put my transmission in neutral, let the clutch lever out, and lean the bike onto the kickstand. No sudden moves- I am very slow and deliberate as that same unpredictable bear continues to check me out. I remove the phone from my jacket pocket and wait for it to look up again. As it does, I snap a picture but, by the time it takes, the bear's head is down again. I wait- again it looks up. I snap another photo but, again, fail to capture it looking directly at me for that brief instant. At this point, I feel like I've pushed my luck far enough. I return the camera to my pocket, raise my bike off the kickstand, pull in my clutch lever, kick the shift lever into first gear, release the clutch, and slowly accelerate. As I ease my way past the third bear, I twist the throttle and shift through the gears, letting out a sigh of relief that the danger is past.
Just Cruzin'  Douglas Miller  pp65-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 02, 2017, 09:27:36 AM
I leave Joe's around eight o'clock. He had already left for work by seven. I had been up to thank him again for his hospitality, then I follow his verbal directions to the northernmost outpost at Fairbanks Harley-Davidson. I had planned to stop here anyway to get a T-shirt, as I had done in Wasilla, marking each occasion. If you ride this far, you should have something to show for your accomplishment. However, I did not wish to be in this predicament with my brakes. The store opens at nine and I arrive at ten minutes to nine, feeling like I am in good shape to get service.
Explaining the brake issue to the service manager, he tells me that he has a group of travelers scheduled for oil changes this morning and cannot promise that he will get to me before noon. This is OK with me. I need to be in tip-top condition when I leave here, and the timeframe is secondary. There is a motel next door if it should get to that point. I unload all my luggage and equipment from the bike, and pile it up on the floor inside the service door and settle in for the long wait.
To my surprise and delight, the work on my bike is done by 11:30. The diagnosis is that I had gotten water in my brake system and, from the long ride in the rain, this seems reasonable. They drained, flushed, and refilled my rear brake system. Whatever had been wrong in the past, I'm sure it's roadworthy now. I pick out a T-shirt, pay the service bill of $57.95, reload my bike, and have a candy bar and a Red Bull at the gas station for my first meal of the day. Then I ride southeast, once again, on the Alaska Highway toward Tok.
Just Cruzin'  Douglas Miller  p90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 03, 2017, 09:35:58 AM
Pulling out of the gravel parking lot, I shift into second gear. As I attempt to shift into third my shift lever fails is to function. Looking down toward the left side of my bike, I see it loosely rocking back and forth without resistance. This feels strangely familiar and unwelcome. The first emotion I experience is panic, fearing that my motorcycle is disabled. Turning around, I coast back into the parking lot and shut the engine off. I kneel down and begin my inspection. At first, knowing that the shifter shaft was recently replaced, I assumed the rear linkage had somehow failed. Closer inspection revealed otherwise and, sure enough, the shaft is stripped... again! I stand up and walk away from the bike, overcome with anger and frustration at this turn of events. This was just repaired a month ago in Sarasota and I must admit, I'm shocked that it could be happening now. I find myself wondering if I was bamboozled by the dealership taking advantage of an unwitting traveler. Suddenly, I am furious, expecting to be stranded here in this remote location while I await road service- if there is such a thing in this wilderness with no cell phone service. The transitions of this emotional roller coaster were extremely rapid. I try to gain control of my temper as I contemplate my next move, aware that throwing emotion at a problem is the equivalent of throwing gasoline at a fire, and that my current state of mind will only serve to antagonize my predicament. 
Just Cruzin'  Douglas Miller  p97
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 04, 2017, 07:56:37 PM
To the front of and below the horn cover, obscured from sight, is a large dome nut that connects the vertical piece rising from the shifter shaft to the shift rod, which in turn connects to the rear linkage above the transmission. From my several experiences of physically manipulating the shift rod, it occurs to me that perhaps I can kick that dome nut with the heel of my boot. If I connect with it just right I can shift up through the gears. This is very cumbersome at first and sometimes takes two or three attempts to get it right, but I find that I can shift gears effectively. Eventually I am able to accomplish the more difficult task of hooking my heel behind the dome nut- by doing so, I can downshift. I can't see it, but I can feel for it. This maneuver takes a lot of practice to become proficient, but I have a lot of road ahead of me in which to practice. Through necessity, I have overcome.
Just Cruzin'  Douglas Miller  pp101-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on March 05, 2017, 02:39:20 AM
Necessity is the mother of invention, there are many ways to overcome breakdowns  :thumb

Way back in the past, I had a clutch cable that broke the knob at the end, that secures the cable to the clutch lever.
No big deal if I was in a town, but this happened on a little used road about 80 Km NW from Paraburdoo, and about 200 km short of Nanutarra roadhouse, WA.
Literally in the middle of nowhere. Time to check what was in my collection of junk odds and ends in the pannier that could be utilised as a quick fix.

I found an electrical blue point connector, removed the plastic cover and then shortened the outer clutch cable sheath by about 40 mm to give myself
a small amount of inner cable length to work with. Pushed the cable through the metal collar of the screw connector, wrapped the cable
around the lever then poked the end of the cable back into the connector and fastened the screw to secure it. Not very aesthetic, but it was functional,
and I was mobile again within 30 minutes. 
Replaced the cable with a new one about 1000 km later at a bike shop in Geraldton.

(http://i154.photobucket.com/albums/s277/cool_blue_ice_2002/elect_bp_LRG.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 05, 2017, 12:48:51 PM
My sphincter tightens as my gaze alternates from his eyes to his left hand to his weapon, back to his eyes, and again back to his weapon- I'm concerned he is going to draw down on me and I feel that I know no more about what he is going to do next than he does, and it becomes very tense, very fast. He asks me, "Do you have a weapon on you now?" I reply, keeping my hands in plain sight, "Yes, one under my vest and one in my back pocket." More tension fills the atmosphere as I see his eyes grow even more panicky- fearful and unsure. It is obvious that he is unsure how to handle this situation, and is trying to work through the lesson in his mind as it was presented in training. My attention is focused on his left hand and weapon, as unsure of him as he is of me- possibly more. After what seems to be a long pause, he says, "For my safety I am going to disarm you."
I say, "OK, I am cooperating with you. I am on a long transcontinental ride and I carry these legally for my own personal defense."
Just Cruzin'  Douglas Miller  pp112-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 06, 2017, 08:20:21 AM
I thought that there would be a transition. As a child and even as a young man, I would look at older people and see them differently from myself. I assumed that I would someday become "one of those" people: one who didn't have any fun, who just concentrated on work and responsibilities- telling others what to do and how to live their lives. I thought I would become grumpy and dissatisfied with the world and life- that I would transpire into an old person who would just sit in a chair and watch younger people have all the fun as I waited for the Grim Reaper to fill his quota at harvest time. Now, as I have reached this point in my life, I realize that this is not the way it is- or at least not the way it has to be. I have matured no doubt. In reason, I think things through more thoroughly and am able to plan and execute successfully and effectively. Physically, my hair is gone, my beard is gray, and my stature is altered. But my soul remains constant. My sense of humour is perpetual. My feelings and emotions remain as they have always been. I have the same needs, the same interests, and the same desires. I have learned how to manage them, and my determination has become inexhaustible. I probably have more fun now than at any other time in my life- after all, last summer was the best summer of my life. This summer has turned out to be the best summer of my life- and I believe that next summer, whatever it holds in store for me, will be the best summer of my life.
Just Cruzin'  Douglas Miller  pp116-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 07, 2017, 01:05:49 PM
But I do remember with startling clarity that it involved Sophia riding a Vespa around the cobbled streets of a tiny Italian village, and that the grainy image stirred something in me. There, on the screen of our battered Grundig, I saw the epitome of style, sophistication and drop-dead gorgeousness. I also realised with a Neanderthal teenage 'huh!' that Sophia Loren wasn't too bad, either.
I kept an eye out for Italian movies from that moment on. Whether it was a home-grown classic, such as La Dolce Vita, or one of the Hollywood variety, such Roman Holiday, there seemed to be one incontrovertible truth: all a guy had to do to look cool was jump on Vespa and buzz down to a cafe, a beach or  nightclub. No matter the time of day or night, there would always be a clutch of beautiful women with large, dangerously pointy breasts waiting to flirt with him. And once he threw his leg over a Vespa, even with a three-day growth and crumpled suit he was nonchalant style personified. To a young guy still wearing flannelette shirts and ugh boots in the western suburbs of Sydney it was a heady revelation indeed.
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 08, 2017, 12:44:54 PM
Bruno the mechanic had fixed the carburettor, put a new bulb in the front light and attached a side mirror on the right-hand side of the handlebar. Gianni said I probably could have got away without a mirror because originally my Vespa didn't have one. But now, with a mirror, the police would have no excuse to pull me over.
Gianni had also bought me a lock and chain and a litre of oil to keep in the side panel. I'd need to put the oil in the petrol. The 1961 Vespa has an old two-stroke engine and you have to add the oil manually every time you fill up with petrol. It's not the most environmentally friendly way to power a vehicle. But it's extraordinary how much power it squeezes out of something that is really just a glorified sewing-machine engine.
We stopped at a petrol station on the way back to Gianni's office to fill up with fuel. Petrol stations in Italy still have attendants, blokes in greasy overalls who fill your tank, check the air in your tyres and wash your windscreen, if you have one. The attendant at this particular station was convinced I had to put in 5 per cent oil and snorted at Gianni's suggestion that I put in 2 per cent. In the end I compromised and put in 3 per cent. Clearly my rusty maths skills were going to get quite a work-out over the next couple of months.
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  pp28-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 09, 2017, 08:36:24 AM
As good a plan as it was - and it was an excellent one - it was still contingent on me getting past the T-intersection at the bottom of Gianni's street. It wasn't the most dangerous intersection in Milan, but it was still daunting, involving a hair-raising turn onto a major road, cutting across oncoming traffic to a lane on the far side. I couldn't see a break in the traffic, but Gianni zipped off on his Honda, darting through a split-second gap and pulling over to the side of the road a couple of hundred metres away. He waved for me to follow, but I sat, waiting patiently for a safe break that never came. Gianni waved again, frustrated, before magically doing a U-turn through a seemingly endless stream of traffic and coming back to me. "You must not have fear," he shouted through his helmet. "If they see you they will not hit you."
As if to prove the point he did the same turn again, squeezing through a gap as a truck was bearing down on him. I waited a few seconds before following, my eyes nearly closed and my body tensing for the inevitable collision. Miraculously, when I opened my eyes again I was on the other side of the road and puttering along. Trucks and cars and other scooters darted around me, but there were no horn blasts or aggressive shouts of vaffanculo. I had made my first foray into Italian traffic and survived.
I pulled up beside Gianni at the first set of lights, grinning with pride.
"Bellissimo!' he said. "Remember: when you you ride like you own the road you do own the road!"
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  pp30-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 10, 2017, 08:04:02 AM
The Bedo was also a restaurant, and when I rang the the counter in reception the manager emerged from the kitchen in a blood-stained apron. He wiped his hands on his apron to take my passport, and looked perplexed when he saw that I was Australian.
"Not Milano?" he said, pointing to my Vespa with its Milanese number plates parked just outside the door.
I told him my story about buying the Vespa on the Internet and my plan to ride it to Rome and he gave me a hearty slap on the back. "Fantastico!" he said. With that he took back the key he had given me, replacing it on its hook in the little wooden key box, and gave me another. On the way to my room, he pointed out the room he was going to give me, a tiny shoebox at the top of the stairs. He screwed up his nose at it, and when we passed a room where a group of Muslim men were praying he screwed up his nose again. Then he led me down the corridor to a double room. The window had its own flower box, and looked out over the town to the vine-covered hills beyond.
"Bella vista!' he said proudly. He had given me the room with the best view. Travelling on a 1961 Vespa, even a temperamental one like mine, certainty had its advantages.
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  pp57-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 14, 2017, 11:38:35 AM
"It is a good solid example of the marque," he said. "You got it for a good price." I felt chuffed. It meant a lot coming from an expert like Marco.
I pointed out the splotch of oil on the front wheel and Marco declared that the front shock absorber had blown.
"I have one here," he said. "I can fix it now if you like."
Marco didn't wear overalls when he worked. He simply plucked a pair of surgical gloves from a nearby dispenser and snapped them onto his hands like a doctor about to do an anal probe. He wheeled Sophia onto a small purpose-built stand and quickly removed the old shock absorber and replaced it with a new one. He called out the name of tools as he needed them and Filippo grabbed them off the wall, where there were all methodically hung, each in its own special place, and handed them to him. I noticed that there was a cork screw among the spanners. I liked the way this guy worked.
While Marco had Sophia on the stand he checked the electrical system and decided to change the coil and the condenser as well. They were old and worn and only emitted a rather sad orange spark to the spark plug. Once they were replaced a big blue spark leapt from beneath the spark plug cap even if you held them a couple of centimetres apart.
"A tempest of electricity!" Marco announced proudly as he put the appropriate covers back on.
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  pp131-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 15, 2017, 12:37:54 PM
Carrefour's success in Italy is considerable. At the end of 2002 they boasted 203 supermarkets, eighty-six convenience stores, twelve cash-and-carries and thirty-four hypermarkets. If the number of cars fighting for parking spaces at the one in Pisa was anything to go by, they were doing rather well for themselves.
As a scooter rider I didn't have to worry about such tiresome things as finding a parking spot. I simply parked Sophia on the footpath near the entrance door like every other scooter rider in Pisa. There seemed to be a competition going on to see who could park closest to the sliding glass doors without triggering the automatic opening mechanism. Try as I might, couldn't better the effort of the owner of an old green Cosa. He'd parked his bike within a millimetre of the range of the electric door's eye.
While the motor scooter parking arrangements gave the Carrefour a distinctly Italian ambience, it ended abruptly once I entered the store. With its harsh neon lighting and insipid piped music it was like every other hypermarket in the world.
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  p163
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 16, 2017, 09:34:11 AM
Late on the afternoon of our third day in Montopoli the mechanic rang to say that Sophia was fixed and ready to go. The mechanic's workshop was 15 kilometres away, in an industrial estate beside the freeway. The cranky old farm-stay manager drove me there, sucking on a cigarette and not uttering a single word the entire way. When we arrived, the young mechanic apologised for taking so long, and when I asked how much I owed him he looked at the manager for a hint. She raised her eyebrows and he said €30, an extraordinarily low amount considering he had come out to the agriturismo to pick the bike up. I suspect the Montaito put a lot of business through him and expected a good deal for their guests in return.
I rode back to Montalto exhilarated, not just by the price but also by how well Sophia was going. She powered up the final steep ascent to the farmhouse like it was a gentle slope.
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  pp188-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 17, 2017, 01:37:30 PM
Just past a small chapel the road went up at a steep angle and after making a half-hearted attempt to negotiate it Sophia refused to go any further. I changed down through the gears until she was in first, but even then she didn't have enough power to conquer the rise, and she came to a stop with an undignified 'urrggh'. I applied the brakes but they weren't up to the task and the bike started rolling backwards. I shouted for Sally to jump off before I lost control of the bike.
Sally is quite slight - the scales barely reach 52 kilos when she is on them - but once she jumped off I was able to coax Sophia up the hill to a point where the inclination wasn't so steep. As Sally struggled up the hill to catch up with us, Sophia purred contentedly, as if nothing was wrong.
"I'm sure that bloody bike did that on purpose," gasped Sally when she finally arrived. "Lazy cow!"
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  pp195-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 18, 2017, 02:51:46 PM
I remember reading an interview with Tony Brancato, a Vespa mechanic in Leichhardt, the heart of Sydney's little Italy, who said that men who drove big, loud motorcycles were just trying to prove their manhood. "Vespa riders," he said, "are content with what they have and know how to use it." And discerning women knew that, he claimed.
Tony has been riding Vespas for close to fifty years so it's probably safe to say that he has his own barrow to push. But there was a kernel of truth in what he said. Thanks to movies like The Wild One, starring Marlon Brando, a Harley Davidson was seen to be the domain of the  dangerous  loner.  But there was something refreshing, reassuring and eminently likeable about Vespas. And it wasn't a disadvantage. The girls did dig them. On every Vespa poster, in so many movies, you'd always see a gorgeous girl on the back. And not some troubled little vixen trying to get back at her parents by going out with a bad boy, either. She was always a well dressed, well adjusted beauty with brains as well as large breasts. At least, that's how I saw it.
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  pp211-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 19, 2017, 01:10:23 PM
Federico introduced himself cautiously, still not sure why there was an Australian in his bar asking for him by name. He had a shock of black hair that looked like he had stuck his finger in a power point.
When I told him Marco had sent me and gave him the brown bag with the points in it, he put his arm around my shoulder and laughed. "Ahhhh Marco!" he grinned. "Bastardo!"
I filled him in on my story and his eyes lit up in astonishment. He told me I was crazy, which I thought was a bit rich from a guy who used to hurtle souped-up Vespas around racetracks. He said something to the girl behind the bar and then beckoned for me to follow. We went down some old stone steps to the cellar. He flicked the light on and there, among the cases of wine and beers, were two more Vespas, a 1960 180 SS and an early PX 125. He had parts for both bikes hidden among Super Tuscans and Brunellos, including another 180 SS in pieces.
"I love Vespas!" he said with a grin.
We went back to the bar and Federico plied me with free drinks for the rest of the evening.
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  p261
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 20, 2017, 08:18:24 AM
On my return I found two women admiring Sophia. One woman was considerably older than the other and wore a scarf on her head. When she realised the bike was mine she spoke to me in Italian, hurriedly and excitedly. I explained that I was Australian and couldn't speak much Italian. Her daughter translated what she was saying.
"She says it is the Vespa of her youth!" she explained.
I told the daughter my story - how I found Sophia on the Internet, how I was riding her from Milan to Rome - and she translated it for her mother. Her mother reached up and squeezed my cheek with a smile, tears welling in her eyes. Seeing Sophia had transported her back to a time when she was young and free and when the boys wanted her. I can't imagine a Holden Commodore having the same effect in forty years' time.
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  pp276-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on March 20, 2017, 04:45:34 PM
 :rofl
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 21, 2017, 11:15:19 AM
I'd thought that on my first day in Rome, too. The traffic on Via Cavour had looked like a scramble of ants after their nest has been disturbed. But after an hour of being honked at and told what to do with various intimate parts of my anatomy I discovered there were rules or, rather, one simple rule. If you had a scooter you could ride wherever you damn well pleased. You just made sure you did it with a confidence that told every other driver on the road that's what you were doing.
The realisation was quite liberating, actually. I started riding on the inside of cars, the outside of cars and anywhere between them. If there was a queue of traffic, I'd ride a couple of hundred metres down the wrong side of the road to get around it. The abuse stopped and the people driving cars became more courteous, giving me a few millimetres more to squeeze by. I got where I wanted to go quicker and arrived in a less rattled state. Basically, I had to forget everything that I'd been taught at the Motorcycle Riding Centre in Sydney.
Vroom With A View  Peter Moore  pp291-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 22, 2017, 11:14:13 AM
In the beginning I didn't choose. I drifted between two worlds, my Pagan family's and my citizen friends'. The two groups knew little of the other and I preferred it that way. The distance was closeness. By the age of twelve I was already a regular at Pagan pursuit of pleasure (POP) parties, raucous affairs that sometimes lasted for days at a dilapidated barn on five acres of farm hills outside Allentown. My job at those events was to scout for the cops who sometimes prowled the grass taking names and license-plate numbers and setting up road blocks leading into the Pagans' special encampment area.
Mostly, the cops gathered intelligence on the Pagans hoping to catch them participating in bigger organized crimes. Not that the cops would miss an opportunity to arrest the bikers for drunk disorderly conduct or possession of illegal drugs and paraphernalia. They would and did, but the Pagans were careful to cover their tracks even as they teased the cops by having pizza delivered to their patrol cars and spray-painting the freeway ramps with the invitation "POP this way". The Pagans used me as their scout, their scapegoat, their decoy.
Prodigal Father, Pagan Son  Anthony Menginie  pp32-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 23, 2017, 10:22:06 AM
Later that morning, I mounted the back of the Harley of the club president, Jerry Fox (whom some affectionately called Slow Poke), and headed to the Atco Raceway. Speed transformed the world around me into a shiver of color and shapes without definition. City lights flickered like candles. Buildings flattened. Brass bells shook like gold dust. The road was a black tongue filled with cracks and pits and pedestrians. Cars blurred beside me, the people inside suffocated by glass. I thrust my hands into the wet wind, leaned into the turns, a light drizzle splashing my cheeks. The bike's tires slipped beneath me and I rocked side to side. Exhaust seared my shin. The smells of the street hit me full force, sewage like rotten eggs, bread rising from an Italian diner, road salt, tar, humid wind, burning rubber, the potent odor of tobacco flicked from an open trucker's window. Blasts of hot mixed with cool pockets. Oil streaked the road behind me. Bugs smacked the windshield. Slow Poke's ponytail whipped my eyes. Wind rushed into my nostrils, made my eyes tear. I felt weightless as if I were flying. I closed my eyes. Sirens sounded in the distance, deafening like the roar of a train. Like the first time I ever rode a motorcycle.
Prodigal Father, Pagan Son  Anthony Menginie  pp35-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 24, 2017, 09:08:01 AM
As the sirens approached, Gorilla pounded on a stranger's apartment and startled the young woman who answered the door. I plastered myself against the wall and struggled for air, careful not to expose my shadow to the window. There were no rules for this kind of thing, just adrenaline. Deuce had defended me. My loyalties were with the club. At the time I lived in mad rationalizations. I didn't ask Deuce to stab the transvestite, but he did. I didn't ask for his help, but it didn't matter, he helped. It wasn't as if we ever discussed whether the punishment fitted the crime. Disrespect necessitated reaction. Sometimes overkill. Sometimes just kill. Part of me felt grateful that the club would go to such lengths to prove a point for me. That's what members of a family did for one another, whether right or wrong. That was the power of the club, the allure of loyalty. Nowhere else had I evoked that kind of immediate and unconditional response, and it felt good. It felt great.
Prodigal Father, Pagan Son  Anthony Menginie  p99
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 25, 2017, 12:07:50 AM
I didn't sleep for the rest of the week. I tossed and turned, practiced loading and unloading my pistol in the dark, not really sure yet how I planned to execute the hit or who, if anyone, I would drag with me. I felt a bit like a chameleon, assuming different personas as the job demanded; before long, I became the hard-ass I portrayed, tough and steely. The part of me that wasn't tough cracked and died inside a little each day as fear gave way to violence. I felt most alive in the moments I thought I might die. There was great relief in terror.
A cold rain spat against my window. My heart raced. I tossed back the sheets. Pain shot up my neck. Out of habit, I dozed fully dressed in my jeans and boots, in case I had night visitors. I padded to the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face. Dark circles framed my eyes. Dirty, wild hair clumped together. Grizzle sprinkled my chin. I looked as if someone had run me over with a truck and left tire tracks across my face. Get a hold of yourself. You haven't even killed anyone and you're a mess.
Prodigal Father, Pagan Son  Anthony Menginie  p250
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 26, 2017, 05:40:19 PM
I expected retaliation; it was the natural order of things. Gorilla settled his scores. No one ever really leaves this club. The Saint's Words haunted me even as I deflected invitations from the Pagan Jersey chapter, Chubs and Rooster, who found my invisible qualities impressive. But I wasn't like them. I could afford the luxury of change. I spotted Gorilla and a chill coursed through me. Marshall flanked Gorilla as new bodyguard. Son of a bitch isn't a cop after all. The former prospect was now a full patch and carried a knife and a gun strapped to his waist. Marshall's oily gaze rested on me and his fingers grazed the hilt of his blade.
"Gorilla wants harm on you," a Pagan whispered under his breath to me. His voice was scratchy, almost muffled. He leaned against his motorcycle, wiped his hands with a chamois cloth. He had a full red beard and a long braid down his back. I recognized Nail. His warning slid like ice down my back. I knew he was right. I knew I would never escape the vibration. Marshall's knife glinted in its sheath. He stared at me with the cold, empty gaze of someone broken. Not a killer exactly. Not even someone who wanted to kill. But almost robotic; he would do it because he was told. Because if he didn't, he would be killed. I'd seen that look before in biker women, hazy and half-drugged. The look of a soul snuffed out. It was easier to kill, to take orders, to abuse, when something no longer looked human.
Prodigal Father, Pagan Son  Anthony Menginie  pp261-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 27, 2017, 10:52:51 PM
First, I love riding a motorcycle. It beats the heck out of an automobile, bus, train, or airplane. I might get cold and wet, but those are minor inconveniences when contemplating the raptures I derive from the experience. Motorcycling is not for everyone, but it is a passion for some of us.
Second, a motorcycle can go just about anywhere. A regular street motorcycle is far better than any four-wheel-drive vehicle. A bridge is out, find a boat to carry the bike across the river. The road goes from two ruts to a footpath, a motorcycle can continue. A bike can get on a train or a ferryboat without prior reservations. It can get hoisted onto an ocean liner like a big suitcase, or loaded into the belly of a DC3. Try that with your Coupe de Ville or Cherokee.
Third, and this may be the most important, it is the friendliest way to travel. You pull up in front of Parton's Grocery & Dry Goods, where three good ole boys are sitting on the porch bench, chawing and whittling, and chances are you will soon be engaged in a conversation. If a sedan or motorhome arrives, this trio might get wondering if there aren't a bunch of extraterrestrials with ray guns hiding in there somewhere, waiting to pop out and zap everybody. With a motorcycle nothing is hidden, everything is out in the open. No Martians in the trunk, no machine guns under the seat. A motorcycle creates a very different atmosphere as you come in contact with strangers, and it is a nice one. The motorcyclist displays a certain vulnerability which is appreciated by those he meets along the way.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  pp9-10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on March 27, 2017, 10:54:56 PM
 :thumb agree!
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on March 28, 2017, 07:09:58 AM
 :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 28, 2017, 09:46:04 AM
I like going to these places which the government has set aside as national preserves. I find them interesting, edifying, often beautiful. But I also like getting home. I was rushing. I knew I was rushing. And it did not matter a whit if I got home early in the evening or late at night. Or even the next day.
Then my great-aunt Agatha's advice came to remind me, "The time to take the tarts is in the passing." Take advantage of the opportunity. Somebody rather more forcefully said, "There comes that moment once, and God help those who pass that moment by."
This may sound like a curious problem I have, not to be able to stop, but I have it. It was a struggle to break that directional inertia, that destination fixation that I had. It was a beautiful morning and all I had to look forward to were hundreds of miles of super-slab. Not an overly pleasurable ride, but if I kept going the sooner it would be over.
There was the exit. At the last moment I put on my directional signals and headed down the off-ramp into Bowie. Not much there!
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 29, 2017, 11:47:34 AM
I met a man back in 1980 on a ferry in British Columbia who was riding a BMW R75/5 with an odometer that had flipped through its five digits and was working on the second 100,000. The motorcycle looked terrible, but he had been doing some serious traveling- probably covering half the roads between the Yucatan and the Yukon. He did not care that the Windjammer fairing was pop-riveted together, that the gas tank was bashed, that the saddlebags needed to be strapped on, or that one of the mufflers had been patched with a coffee can. He had seen the pyramids at Palenque on a full-moon night, the skyscrapers of Manhattan looming across the Hudson River at 5 a.m. on a June morning, and the midnight sun on the road to Inuvik.
He had been places. He had the traveling bug. Had it bad! And his Beemer was his magic carpet. When the wallet got too thin he would head home to Des Moines, pick up his old job fixing agricultural equipment, get a few hundred bucks ahead, and be gone again. The engine worked perfectly, he reasoned, so why buy a new motorcycle? The money would be better spent on gas and food.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  pp35-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 30, 2017, 11:22:48 AM
Some time later I sold my ultra-reliable NSU 250, with its very good front brake that I had learned to use, and bought a very used, very flashy Indian Chief, Bonneville model. It was one of the last out of the factory door, in brilliant sunshine yellow with saddlebags and spotlights and all the trimmings of a 1950's machine. Basically my teenage reasoning (an oxymoron?) was seduced by the sheer size and glory of the machine, and did not consider how I would slow those 600 pounds.
The rear wheel had a skinny drum, rod operated, that would lock up under an authoritative foot, and the front wheel had an equally skinny drum which worked poorly, and often the brake cable snapped. Which it did one day, and I didn't fix it immediately. The next afternoon I was riding along Crescent Street on the flanks of Round Hill, the residential street having a low concrete wall on the uphill side, an unbroken line of parked cars on the downhill. My attention wandered; I looked over my shoulder briefly, then forward again to see a high school Driver Education car suddenly appear broadside in front of me. The instructor was teaching the hapless student how to turn around on a narrow street.
With the wall on one side, a row of cars on the other and minimal braking available, I locked up the rear wheel, skidded sideways, and gracelessly tipped over onto the crashbars, sliding all the time toward the vehicular barrier. The bike stopped six inches from the driver's door, with me still attached by virtue of having a foot entwined in some of my chrome fixings. I still remember the student's face, staring not at me, but straight forward, mouth agape, with the pallor of an overly dead fish. I wonder if he ever did get his license.
I was unhurt, but saw fit to sell the Chief and buy something that stopped in a more normal fashion, and made sure that the brakes were always functioning properly.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  pp60-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 31, 2017, 11:59:26 AM
I'm talking about when you presume there will be a functional gas station with gas, and it is either closed or out of gas. Or burned down.
Like Red Hill, New Mexico, on US Highway 60. Tearing along westward on a Kawasaki KZ750, the bike went on reserve just after passing through Quemado. No problem, Red Hill was just 20 miles further along, marked on my map like a regular town. To my thinking, on a Monday morning a regular town should have a gas station. Sure enough, it did. Except it hadn't sold any gas or oil, candy bars or soda pop in quite a long time. Closed up tight. As a matter of fact the whole of Red Hill did not have much of anything, including inhabitants. Maybe if I backed off to about 30 mph I could make it the 28 miles to Springerville.
Not a chance. The engine faltered just as I got to the top of the long grade that winds down to the Little Colorado River; I killed it and coasted down to the valley floor, restarted and got about one mile before it quit for good. And three more miles to town. Fortunately I was close to a house where the fellow had a can of gas for his mower and he volunteered a gallon. But he also seemed to think that I was seriously dumb for not knowing that Red Hill had been shut down for years. Everybody knew that.
Except me.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  pp74-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 01, 2017, 01:51:46 PM
I followed the back roads that I had so often seen from the car, but everything was different. The towns and villages looked different, the scenery was different and the road was very, very different. I had no idea that a car's windshield could distort reality so much. And there was no cranking the steering wheel over, just leaning. I was impressed. I was also hooked.
Since then I have chosen a thousand other destinations. I can spend hours looking at maps, making a list of places I want to see. Or thumbing through an address book, figuring which friend from long ago I want to visit. I have chosen a national park as a turn-around for the summer's ride... Voyageurs, in Minnesota. I've gone north to Norway to see the midnight sun beyond the Arctic Circle, and south to Panama to see if mangoes grow on bushes or trees.
There is no precise way to come up with a destination; there are probably as many different reasons as there are riders.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p94
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 02, 2017, 12:33:40 PM
In my first week I was sure I would never be able to control all those two score and 10 raging horses. Too much for the likes of me. Scotland, Ireland, Wales, England, France... by the time I got to Madrid I had those half-hundred ponies well corralled.
Well, more or less. I crashed in the Scottish Highlands, running off the road to avoid a startled sheep. And I'd put myself in a ditch in Ireland one soft summer evening, on a level, lonely country lane. Temporarily forgetting which side of the road I was supposed to be on, I went over to the right side when I saw an oncoming motorcycle... exactly as he did.
While I was trying to figure out why this fellow was dead set on hitting me head-on I went onto the grass verge and into the ditch. My presumed antagonist stopped, looked down, and asked, "And now why'd you do such a stupid thing?"
He and his passenger helped me pull the bike out; no harm done.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p105
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 03, 2017, 09:20:33 AM
When I was 17, I was tearing through a French village on my NSU 250. I had one helmet on my head, another hanging off the side of the gear on my luggage rack.
I turned onto a cobbled road going out of town, and a big truck was chuffing along at about five mph. Another big truck was overtaking about seven mph, with a great big orange arrow sticking out from the cab; that was before blinking turn signals. Heck, I'll just run down the gutter on the left and take them both.
I was up alongside the cab of truck number two when I realized the front wheels were actively turning to the left. He wasn't overtaking, he was making a left turn! And I was in the way! I didn't want to brake on slick cobblestones, and I couldn't make the turn at my speed. But I headed that way, hit the curb, bounced up onto somebody's lawn, ploughed through a flower bed, and came to a stop. The truck was standing in the road, my extra helmet hanging from his front bumper.
I walked back to pick it up. The driver looked ashen as he took the helmet off the bumper and gave it to me. "Vous avez de la chance, mon ami" he said, "vous avez de la chance." You're lucky, my friend, you're lucky.
I went down the road a mile, parked, and sat there for an hour, shaking. Close call.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  pp120-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 04, 2017, 10:00:10 AM
I was reduced to focusing on the Botts dots, the reflectors down the middle of the road. Bless Mister Botts.
If a deer came out in front of me, we would both be history. If something had fallen off a vehicle, like a spare tire, I would never see it until I hit it.
No sign anywhere of hospitality alongside the road. Nothing. I could pull off and spend the night shivering under some water-soaked fir tree; I thought about that. This was not fun, this was dangerous. I was riding virtually blind. I was stupid. I could have stopped back in Garberville, gotten a nice room, had a good dinner, and called Cookie to say I'd be an hour late meeting him in San Francisco.
Not me. Oh no. I had to push on regardless. Regardless of what common sense would dictate. I wished Sue were with me; she wouldn't let me get into this mess. We'd be watching the evening news at the Humboldt House Inn, having a steak at the Waterwheel Restaurant, washed down by a bottle of California merlot.
Instead of riding down a rain-soaked road in the dark at 40 mph, slowing to half that when cars and trucks came in my direction, hoping that nothing was in my way, that some drunk local in a speeding frenzy wouldn't run up my tailpipes.
I was completely frazzled as I got to Laytonville. One gas station, one cafe with no liquor license, three shabby, aged motels. Heaven on earth takes many forms. The old-fashioned motel cabin had a heater that worked, and an attached garage to keep the Harley in. The tough steak and overcooked veggies got washed down with a glass of water, but I was happy. I was alive.
And I'll never let this happen again... Wanna bet?
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  pp150-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 05, 2017, 09:03:31 AM
The first reality of traveling by motorcycle is that there is never enough room to pack everything you want to take. Especially if you are going two-up.
Long ago I met a couple who were traveling overland across Asia from England to Australia on a Suzuki 125. Everything they owned, personal effects, clothes, motorcycle gear, camping equipment, was all strapped and bungied on, using large, home-built pannier bags, a rugged luggage rack stacked high, and a monstrous tankbag. The bike was so overloaded that the sidestand did not work, and the rider had rigged up a little triangular stand that he carried on top of the tankbag and then would lean down and fit to the left footpeg when he stopped.
And I had been complaining about the lack of packing space on my BMW R75/5. How does that moralistic story go? "I was unhappy that I had no shoes, until I met a man who had no feet."
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p166
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 06, 2017, 09:59:36 AM
The King had some 14,000 miles on the odometer, as it was being used as a test bed; I did not know when the current tires had been mounted, but they seemed to have a reasonable amount of tread left. The Harley has 16-inch wheels, shod with H-rated MT90 bias-ply tires, which equal a 130/90.
I rode it home, and several days later headed due east across the Mojave Desert. It was a nice day, but I had a press conference to make at five o'clock and a lot of miles to go, so I hung into the fast lane on I-40 going across the wasteland, where the accepted speed seemed to be about 85 mph.
After the run I headed to Palm Springs, going down old US 66, a little trafficked road with rather rough pavement. I wanted to do mountain loops around Mt. San Jacinto and over the San Bernardino Mountains, so I signed into a motel. In the morning I took out the tire-pressure gauge to check the tires- and noticed that my rear doughnut had very, very little tread left. The grooves were barely a shadow, about 1/64th of an inch. Oh, dear. Dusted again.
I'm not a rider who is gentle with his tires, but I do play fair. I check the pressures regularly, and keep them inflated to the recommended psi. I don't do burn-outs, but I do ride hard. A lot of Montana work, as we like to say, in reference to that sensible state which places no limit on one's speed in daylight hours.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p199
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 07, 2017, 09:42:24 AM
When I was young and unattached, I traveled for the sheer bliss of riding down an unknown road, to an unknown place, to meet unknown persons. I was open for anything. No ties, no need to go to any specific place. It was the kind of travel that few people ever get to enjoy. I could fold my tent in the morning and point the wheel in any direction I wanted. I had no limits, other than what was in my wallet.
In Livingston, New Zealand, a gentleman made a very strong effort to get me to stay, offering a house, a job, and he even had an eligible daughter. I chose to move on. No particular reason, just itchy.
Then I got a staff job with a motorcycle magazine, and while it enabled me to travel a lot, it was only in two or three week stints; there was always that office with a desk to bring me back.
And then Sue came along. Falling in love with her did change my parameters, but before we married we discussed this fully. She likes to travel, and we take at least one trip a year together, sometimes two. Usually she is on her own motorcycle, but if finances are tight, she'll pack two-up.
But she also likes to have her fingers deep into her gardening soil, or pushing a piece of wood through the table-saw. She has created quite a wonderful place for us to live in, and has absolutely no problem with my being gone a good portion of the time. All it takes is love and trust.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  pp210-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 11, 2017, 01:06:24 PM
So I crutched around and found a Rambler American convertible for sale for $200- white with bright red vinyl interior. I loaded the bike in a trailer, hooked the trailer to the bumper (not wise, in retrospect, but it held), tossed in my books and clothes, and headed towards the setting sun. At the western end of the Pennsylvania Turnpike I picked up a bearded hitchhiker who, it turned out, lived in Monterey. How convenient! The car worked flawlessly, if a bit slowly when climbing over Berthoud Pass in the Rockies on US 40. But with two of us driving and putting in long hours, we were there in five days. I kept the Rambler, though using it little, until I got my degree, at which point I sold it for $100. I remember it fondly.
Scrapiron, for that was the hitchhiker's moniker, and I became fast friends and riding buddies, and we attended the last official Death Valley Motorcycle Rally together, in the fall of '67. Which has nothing to do with this story, but I just threw it in for historical purposes.
From then on cross-countrying was done strictly on motorcycles.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p230
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 12, 2017, 04:18:23 PM
Then it was east to Cairns, on the Great Barrier Reef, and a wonderful place to camp on the beach. I met three Australian motorcyclists and decided to go up together to Cape Tribulation. The only trouble with Cape Trib was that to get there we had to cross the Daintree River, and the ferry only ran at high tide on Sunday. Once across we were committed for seven days. Good fun; we'd live off the land, and our sidecar man had a fishing rod, crab trap, and even a .22 in his hack. No problem, and all scoffed at our companion who bought twenty pounds of granola.
On the dirt road to the ferry we met some motorcyclists camping, including Geoff Lea, who had beat me there by going from Perth over the top of Australia. Small world. But he had places to go to the south, we had to catch the ferry, so the meeting was short.
We crossed the Daintree, got our front wheels jammed on sticky muddy roads, and camped in the most beautiful places. We ended up eating the granola quite thankfully, as rod, trap, and rifle produced nothing. However, the fields were full of hallucinogenic mushroom which added marvelously to the effect of the granola chapatis that were every evening's fare.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p234
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 13, 2017, 01:39:35 PM
Around this neck of the woods that I inhabit it is easy to get a ride together. We have a couple of Internet-savvy groups in the area, and all someone has to do is to type in that he's leaving from the Templeton park at nine o'clock on Saturday morning, and two to ten people will probably show up. Unless it is raining.
More immediate, of course, is the telephone. Of an evening, having just seen that the morrow's forecast is bright and sunny, I can call up Larry or John or whomever and say that I am going to McKittrick for chicken-fried steak, want to come along? I usually get company. Riding buddies are nice; on a day run they make the whole scene a little more interesting. And when I stop, they are there to race benches with me.
I don't always like company. If I have to go 2000 miles in three days I'll go by myself, thank you very much; he who travels alone travels fastest.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p288
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 14, 2017, 09:57:56 AM
There are more than 40,000 police jurisdictions in this country, with the FBI and other agencies covering the federal angle, down to state and county and local. My town of 24,000 denizens has 29 sworn officers on the payroll, providing protection 24 hours a day, seven days a week. And after ten years, I have not gotten a ticket in this town.
Although I did get stopped one evening, with that stomach-sinking feeling as my mirrors turned red. Oh, my God! What have I done? What am I in for? How much is this going to cost? All that negative stuff. But the cop only stopped me to tell me my taillight was out- no fix-it ticket, no nothing, he just wanted to make sure I didn't get rear-ended.
There can be a lot of friction between motorcyclists and cops. The classic contretemps was when the BMW Riders' Association, as do-gooding, law-abiding, authority-respecting a lot as ever twisted a throttle, held its annual bash down in Graham County, North Carolina, a few years ago, and the sheriff decided that these were a bunch of bad dudes and dudettes who should be harassed out of the place. He was a stupid cop.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  pp292-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø Glimt on April 14, 2017, 02:43:30 PM
the cop only stopped me to tell me my taillight was out- no fix-it ticket, no nothing, he just wanted to make sure I didn't get rear-ended.

I once advised a cyclist on Anzac Highway his taillight wasn't working at some bizarre hour of the morning and he just said "I know, but what can you do?".
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 15, 2017, 09:45:15 AM
When traveling alone I stop when I'm tired, eat when I'm hungry, and I do not have to consider anyone else. Which may sound selfish to some, but the whole reason I am doing this is so that I do not inconvenience anyone else. I think it would be selfish and inconsiderate if I told whomever I was with that I did not care that he was hungry, that I was not stopping to eat.
Not that I don't enjoy riding buddies; there is lots to be said for them. Probably the number one reason is that you like his or her company a whole lot, and conversation is easy and interesting. Number two, perhaps, is the unspoken fear of a break down, be it a flat tire or a mechanical failure or an electronic crisis. When things do go wrong on a bike, I know very well that it is always more pleasant if somebody else is along with whom to share this little contretemps. And do a run for cold sodas while waiting for whatever.
However, in this current day and age of motorcycle technology breakdowns have become a very minor concern. My rear wheel seems to pick up a nail every couple of years, but the tubeless tire has pretty much reduced that problem to a half-hour inconvenience.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p304
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 16, 2017, 11:53:03 AM
As a corollary I do believe we should tax vehicles according to their weight. Gasoline isn't the only petroleum byproduct we deal with. How about asphalt, and the cost of road repair? I promise you, a thousand motorcycles with an average laden weight of 800 pounds, for a total of 800,000 pounds, do a heckuva lot less damage to the roadways than ten 80,000-pound trucks. Bikes can run day and night along US 101 and never dent the tarmac, while the thousands of big rigs moving through the Salinas Valley every 24 hours mean that the authorities are going to have to plan for fixing, even rebuilding, the road at regular intervals.
We motorcyclists consume a lot less gas than the average sedan or pickup, and our light weight means we have virtually no effect on the roadways or bridges. And we can put four bikes in a parking slot intended for one car.
Maybe the DMV should think about having zero registration fees for motorcycles and actually promote their use. What a daring thought! Motorcycles are, unless grotesquely modified with excessively loud exhausts, environmentally friendly, as they use less petroleum byproduct, and less space, than a car. Ride yours to work and tell your riding buddies to do the same.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p312
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 17, 2017, 09:40:00 AM
I well remember talking to a fellow on an organized motorcycle tour I was taking, and he confided that he had a problem. This was his third tour in five years, and each time he looked forward greatly to the adventure, bought new gear, loved the anticipation, but was troubled by the fact that on the first day of each tour his focus shifted 180 degrees and he began to think about getting home. The trip became a personal count-down, worrying about the diminishing amount of clean clothes, imagining things that might be going wrong at work, asking himself why he was spending all this money to be in Europe when he really wanted to be sleeping in his own bed. But six months after he got home, he would begin planning his next trip.
The beginning of any worthwhile journey is like riding into a sun-filled day, full of promise and wonder. All you want to do is to aim towards the horizon, with a host of superb roads and interesting adventures ahead. The accomplished traveler never wants to get to destination, just to keep on moving. But a vision of the stable can intrude.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  pp332-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 20, 2017, 04:11:36 PM
Yesterday I had a shop put a set of Avon Azaros on the ST1100, and to scrub them in I took the 40-mile way home, via Las Pilitas Road. That's a nice rural road, running some seven miles through wooded hills, the occasional open field, only a few families living along there. The authorities have recently been kind enough to resurface the whole stretch, and the asphalt is narrow enough not to warrant a center line.
I turned off the straightish Pozo Road onto Las Pilitas, and that very feeling of the bike angling over caused a warm feeling in my body. We, the bike and I, headed up a little ridge, left, right, left, right, left, never staying perpendicular for more than a second. Crest the ridge, and we did the same going down to the Salinas River. I have taken all manner of machines over the road, from Harley Softails to dual-purpose singles and seriously sporty twins, triples, and fours. The style of the ride, as well as the rider, determines the angle of the lean. The rotational nature of a motorcycle makes the lean such a pleasure, always using power to the rear wheel; it is more banking than steering. Maybe I maintain a steady throttle in a bend, more often I'm accelerating, as I like to slow before the curve, then power through. Not too much gas, just enough to make the bike want to finish the curve by standing up straight.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p335
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Old Steve on April 21, 2017, 11:57:41 AM
Ain't that so.

I think you can get that feeling of just pulling off a corner perfectly at any speed, you don't have to be doing 160 km/hr.  Just fade wide, slow appropriately, turn in late, crease the apex, and slowly power on as you exit to straighten up and set yourself up for the next curve. And if you've done it right, even at the posted corner speed, don't you just feel the glow of having done it right.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 21, 2017, 02:41:07 PM
I try to be sensitive to non-motorcyclists, but admit that I have no understanding of, for example, the people who rise long before dawn to drive down to Morro Bay, get on a fishing boat, motor out to sea along with 30 others, most of whom will become seasick during the day, tangle lines all morning, and come back with a few mackerel that, on cost per pound, would have been considerably cheaper to buy at a supermarket. But they love it; they must, otherwise why would they suffer so?
Which is probably what the driver in the Volvo is thinking as I motor past him during a major rainstorm. He is warm and snug, and the garage-door opener will make sure he doesn't suffer even one drop of rain. Whereas I am exhilarated, loving this low-key battle with the elements.
We all know that motorcycling itself is a many-faceted avocation. I am essentially into road riding, traveling, going places, be it the post office or the Dolomites. But within our clan the differences are major. The Iron Butt battalion is about as removed from the Orange County Chopper regiment as earth is from Cassiopeia. I sometimes ride long distances in a short time, but only to get some place. I can appreciate, to a minor degree, the guy who spends fifty grand on a custom bike which is absolute eye candy, but a misery to ride more than a hundred miles; he is into two-wheeled showmanship, in which the bike is the show, not the rider. As opposed to the super-bike racer whose talents are the show, as all those fully faired bikes look very much the same at 150 mph.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p346
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 22, 2017, 10:21:55 PM
Or Iran in 1973. I was traveling two-up on a BMW R75/5, and on a lonely mountain curve the rear-end went all squirrelly. I kept the shiny side up, got over to the side of the road, and had an inspection. The differential had obviously overheated and was ruined, the rear wheel moving sideways along the axle a couple of inches, with the inner race of a bearing actually welded to the axle; I couldn't even get the wheel off. This bike was not going anywhere, until a stake truck appeared and stopped. No common language existed between me and the driver, but he understood the problem, fortunately the bike rolled, in a wobbly fashion, and he had a plank, so we managed to get the bike up on the bed; he turned the truck around and drove us to a railroad station. Eventually a train bound for Tehran came along, and the bike was pushed on. All was well five days later.
Many of us limit our travels because we do worry about things going wrong; we shouldn't, especially in the U.S. In this day and age we have cell phones and towing plans that pretty much cover every possibility, but even when those might not work, we can pretty much rely on the kindness and good will of passers-by to help us out.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  pp373-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 23, 2017, 03:44:57 PM
A friend recently emailed me some pictures of an absolutely lovely (my word) road in Bolivia, built into the side of a vertical mountain, straight up on one side, straight down on the other- and I would really like to ride that stretch of dirt. On a nice day, of course, as dirt roads on rainy days can be more than exhilarating- especially when there is a 2000 foot drop and no guard rail. The Yungas Road, or the "Most Dangerous Road" as some non-Bolivians like to call it, runs from the capital of La Paz northeast to the town of Corioco, and has been handling truck traffic since 1935- with a largish number of fatal accidents. Not from collisions, mind you, but just falling over the edge.
Maybe I'm a bit on the strange side, but the thought of riding that road is purely pleasurable. A bit of a risk, but a heck of a view.
Sitting there on the porch I thought of all the places that moon's light (yeah, yeah, it's reflected, I know) has shone upon, over the entire planet, and about how many I've seen, how many more I will, how many I won't. Motorcycles have taken me to see the moon over ancient Zimbabwe, over the ruins in New Mexico's Chaco Canyon. For me, going someplace most always involves motorcycles; I don't want to sit in a bus or a rented car, I want to ride.
101 Road Tales  Clement Salvadori  p380
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 28, 2017, 10:05:40 AM
My Triumph and I limped into Georgetown in May of '76 riding on the last drops of juice in my battery. The stator had burned out in my alternator, just north of Kuala Lumpur. Usually I accepted these difficulties with good grace, but this one irked me constantly. For three years I had been carrying a spare of that very same part, but it was heavy, and in Singapore, I decided I would never need it. I wrapped it up and mailed it home. A week later, I needed it, and of course it could only be got from England. The Lucas company, one of my sponsors, had a shop in Penang, and they arranged to have it sent, but it would take a couple of weeks. So, as I waited while my two stators passed each other somewhere in mid-air, I took up residence at the Choong Thean hotel on Rope Walk, and went fishing off the esplanade.
Riding High  Ted Simon  p9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 29, 2017, 12:03:38 PM
One day, in a fit of sudden resolution, I went into a little leathergoods shop and bought a square foot of supple tan leather. With a fine Victorian stitching tool given to me by a friend in Buenos Aires I made a copy of the pouch I had lost. It took me most of one day make, and it was a first big step towards recovering my belief in the future. Almost immediately afterwards I learned that the spare part for my motorcycle alternator had arrived from England. The next morning, gingerly, holding my breath and shaking inwardly, I wheeled the Triumph out of the hotel into Rope Walk.
T'an, the boss, and the downstairs ladies watched with varying degrees of admiration and amusement. There was enough of a charge still in the battery to get me to the Lucas workshop. I kicked the engine over and it started faultlessly. I rode out into Campbell Street and, with all the panache of a middle-aged gentleman on a penny-farthing, made my way through the streets of Penang.
For almost a week after that I was immersed in motorcycle maintenance.
Riding High  Ted Simon  p32
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on April 29, 2017, 12:17:03 PM
I think that shop is still there. The RAAFies used to go there for parts for the Triumph and BSAs they managed to find when stationed at Butterworth. Some parts in the shop were still in their original wax wrappers
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 30, 2017, 08:43:29 PM
When I got to Alor Star six weeks later I had forgotten about the Captain. Then the sign for Padang Besar reminded me, and I followed it as a duty to unfinished business. It never does any harm, I told myself, to have friends in the army, especially at borders.
The entrance to the army camp was unimpressive, a small shack beside a wooden barrier and a muddy track leading apparently to nowhere. A glum soldier in a green waterproof cape stared at me while I manoeuvred the motorcycle so that I could talk to him. There was often this odd hiatus when I stopped to talk to strangers, getting the bike into position, taking off the helmet so that they could see who they were talking to. It was prolonged this time because I couldn't find neutral on the gearbox. Eventually I had to stall the engine in first gear, which irritated me a little and perhaps put a sharpness in my voice I had not intended.
"I'm looking for Dylan," I said. "Captain Dylan."
It meant nothing to him.
"Dylan," I repeated. "He said everybody knew him."
"I don't know him. What Company?"
"I don't know," I said, beginning to feel foolish. "He said I would find him here, that's all."
I stopped at the sound of laughter from inside the hut. A voice called: "Tell him he's too late. They took him away already."
"Took him away?"
"He was shot."
A smooth brown face appeared round the doorway and, on seeing me, stopped laughing and became stern.
"Who are you?" it demanded. This is a question I have always had difficulty answering; earlier in life because I genuinely didn't know, and later because I knew too well.
"My name is Simon," I said. "I..."
Riding High  Ted Simon  pp49-50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 01, 2017, 09:36:09 AM
The second speaker ended his speech to a tumult of clapping. Three girls came on the stage wearing the costume, jewellery and make-up of the traditional Siamese dance. The musicians played and the girls danced, hips swaying and arms waving with the languid and sinuous movement of underwater plants. For this the diners interrupted their conversation. They watched the dancing with evident pleasure, and applauded the girls enthusiastically, betraying no loutishness whatsoever. Then the band returned to playing Western music.
Some couples got up from their tables and took to the dance floor. To my utter astonishment, in their conservative suits and chic dresses, they faced each other and began to dance with the same slow stylized movements of the temple dancers who had just disappeared. If a band of naked cannibals had danced the fox-trot around a boiling missionary I would not have been more surprised. It was such anachronism, combined with such an incongruity of dress, that made me know I was really in a very foreign country.
Riding High  Ted Simon  p59
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 03, 2017, 10:01:27 AM
I've been erratic with these posts recently because other things (especially riding) have cut into my reading time.  This might get worse before it gets better, but I'll try to keep up the supply as frequently as possible.
--------------------------------------

At seven I was up and dressed to take coffee and dim sums downstairs. The weather was dry and bright, and the day seemed to be starting well until I saw that the tank-bag on the bike was sagging miserably on one side. It was normally plump and tightly packed and the hostile emptiness where something should have been was matched by the sudden hollow in my stomach. I knew instantly that the camera had been stolen, and realized in the same flash of thought how doltish I had been to suppose that the thieves would all be outside the hotel. And it was that, more than the loss itself, which almost dragged me right down. Would I never get it right again?
It was a mere formality to put my hand in the bag and confirm the theft. There was no chance, I knew, of recovering the camera. So why bother to mention it? I asked myself. Why not just wheel the bike out on to the street with a satisfied smile? Why let them all know that yet another improvident idiot had fallen victim to the national sport? First my documents and my money. Now the camera. Truly, I had joined the ranks of the despised.
Riding High  Ted Simon  pp79-80
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 04, 2017, 10:46:28 AM
The last of Gopi's letters takes me to Marine Drive, and his friend Nasir, a wealthy sportsman who likes to race cars, owns a chain of cinemas and has a delightful Parsee wife called Katy. He has a room for me, is very hospitable, and offers to help with my motorcycle maintenance which has become urgent. The bike has now done 48,350 miles. There is a bad oil leak out of the rear pushrod cover and, after taking the top off and noticing the scoring and pitting, we decide we might just as well do a rebore and fit the new pistons I was carrying, as well as fitting new exhaust valves.
When I reassemble everything I make the stupid mistake of forgetting to reset the tappets. Tightening down the top I bend both the push rods. I have one spare with me, bend another one back. It works. Huge relief. It's not the only mistake I make. Three major cock-ups altogether, and I'm lucky to get away with them. Why am I making these errors? It worries me.
Riding High  Ted Simon  p112
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 05, 2017, 10:17:08 AM
In any event, for all the night's discomfort I felt bright and optimistic in the morning, ate a few biscuits, and rode on. The land was flattening out and becoming more hospitable as I came to Udaipur, a big, busy, fortified city. I stopped only for a drink and to take a photograph of a poor woman and her babies camped on the sidewalk under a piece of cloth slung over some string. Not that there was anything unusual about her circumstances, but next to her was a sign advertising luxurious accommodations with central heating, and a movie poster promising ultimate joy and fulfillment, while behind her loomed an elaborate palace. The juxtaposition was too poignant to miss.
Riding High  Ted Simon  p116
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 05, 2017, 04:09:04 PM
It wrenched my mind, standing there, to recall that I was the same person who, only a few months ago, was riding alone across the Bolivian Altiplano, more than two miles above sea level through a curtain of freezing drizzle. The day before I had fallen in a river and lost the last of the plastic bags I used to protect my gloves from rain. My hands were frozen tight, and the cold was reaching up my arms. My usual defence against cold was to sing, uproariously and defiantly, into the flying air- sea shanties and folk songs dimly remembered from the News Chronicle Song Book of 1937. For once the antidote failed. It became intolerable to continue, Rummaging in my mental attic for other remedies I came across a story told to me about an Italian climber who survived a four-day blizzard on a vertiginous alpine shelf while his companions perished. His method was rhythmically to clench and unclench his fingers- the only movement he could perform without falling.
I began to do the same on my handlebar grips. At first it was simply agonizing. Then a biological miracle occurred in my arms. Warmth flooded down to meet the cold. It was such a precise reaction that I could tell where the interface was at any time, felt it moving down past my wrist to the knuckles, then the finger tips. Soon my whole body was tingling with life, and I traveled on to La Paz in an invisible bubble of warmth and comfort.
Riding High  Ted Simon  pp160-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 06, 2017, 10:59:05 PM
"You know I've got to. You know I'll be back in plenty of time."
She looked at me then with the venomous expression that I dreaded.
"You might at least say you're sorry. Why don't you say you're sorry?"
"I'm sorry," I said. I didn't sound sorry.
"You're not sorry. You'll be glad to get away from me. You'll be glad to leave that fat old frump you married by mistake. I can see you now, swanning around the country meeting glamorous women and talking your silly head off about your bloody journey- and all those bloody women you made love to. All those famous love affairs the whole world knows about..."
She was in a frenzy of hate and I was paralyzed with fury, incapable of doing anything to stop it, and even as she heaped on the abuse and I fought back, I was asking myself: How does it happen quickly? How can I be so helpless? Why can't I do something to stop the pain? Didn't I learn anything, after all?
"I'm getting out of here," I cried. "I can't stand any more of this."
"That's right," she said. "Run away, just as you always do. Just like you always have."
Riding High  Ted Simon  p203
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 07, 2017, 06:04:13 PM
If our isolation was a predicament I was blind to it. I had not lived in my own country for twelve years, and I had spent four of those years on the road, proving that I was equally at home anywhere in the world.
"Perhaps you'll never be at home anywhere," people suggested but I rejected this idea and refused to think about it. How could I entertain such a thought when I was married and had a child on the way? As long as I wanted a home (and I fervently believed that I did), why shouldn't it be wherever we chose to have it? There would always be good people around anywhere. As long as we loved and cared for each other, as long as we got along, surely everything would be fine.
So I unconsciously extended the philosophy of the solitary traveller to include my wife, and forgot the lesson of Penang.
My idea of getting along was to be in charge. It was an easy mistake for me to make, so ingrained was my habit of solitariness. As an only son, with a father long since dead and a mother inevitably distant, however much loved, I knew little about the comforts and duties of family life, neither as the beneficiary nor the donor.
Riding High  Ted Simon  p205
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 08, 2017, 01:33:48 PM
Just as a traveller is always picking up information from chance meetings with people coming the other way- tips about borders, money changing, the state of the road- in the same way, I am convinced, the body is also alerted to approaching changes in the environment. How otherwise to explain that nowhere in Africa can I recall having any health problems at all. And it is no coincidence, I'm sure, that my morale was high, and rising almost all the way. I started with many anxieties, and as they were revealed to be baseless, my confidence grew. I was so full of good stuff, so amazed and excited by my good fortune that sickness was just not in the cards.
On a purely physiological level there can hardly be any argument; the better you are adapted to your environment, the better your body will be able to resist prevailing predators and parasites.
Riding High  Ted Simon  p216
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 09, 2017, 06:20:19 PM
That same day I had ridden carelessly into a deep rut of baked mud and lost control of the bike. I pitched over the handlebars and the bike somersaulted on top of me. I felt it land on my right thigh was sure my leg must have been broken. "Damn!" I said, "you've really done it this time." I said it out loud, but I got up and the bone was intact. The bike lay sputtering like an upended beetle. I switched it off and looked at it. The lights were destroyed, the handlebars revolved through ninety degrees and, worst of all, the forks were twisted. Both boxes were badly damaged, and my belongings lay scattered over the road. Slowly, as my thigh muscles swelled to an enormous size, I lashed everything together and limped on into town.
Riding High  Ted Simon  p241
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 10, 2017, 09:56:32 AM
The road followed the coast almost due west, and a powerful southerly wind blew up, with freak gusts that threatened to knock me over. Then cold rain fell in torrents, whipped up by the wind. After a short while the throttle seized. Then the engine lost power and before long I was forced to stop.
It was a bleak coast in the storm, and the only refuge I found was a small concrete bus shelter. The floor was inches deep in water, but there was a cement bench. I wheeled the bike in and perched on the bench, wet and cold. It crossed my mind that the bus shelter was exactly like the ones to be seen on the south coast of England, and that the scenery was so similar that I might easily have thought myself sixty miles from London in winter. The thought depressed me all the more.
There was some relief in work. Eventually I discovered that the carburetor main jet had unscrewed itself and dropped into the reservoir. I repaired it, cleaned the throttle slide, cooked coffee and changed my clothes. Halfway through this performance the rain stopped and a troop of little schoolgirls in white nylon aprons appeared from nowhere to catch a bus. They were in the care of a serious senorita. They watched me gravely as I reassembled myself before their eyes.
Riding High  Ted Simon  p243
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 11, 2017, 08:42:37 AM
Riding the motorcycle was second nature. Sitting on it was as natural to me as sitting on a chair, and more comfortable. Everything about it was customary, the passage of air across my face, the changes of temperature, the scents of hay, dust, sap, dung, diesel, stale urine, whatever was in the air, and though I regretted the loss of silence and my inability to hear birdsong and distant voices, the sound of the engine was comforting, in its way, and helpful to my thoughts. I knew the bike well, believed in it and accepted its faults. I had everything I needed well distributed about me, and I knew that if anything went wrong it would be providence to blame and not me and there was some satisfaction in that too.
Somewhere beyond Bahia Blanca, as I headed inland at last, the bike completed its first twenty thousand miles, and that was a sufficient sign of a healthy partnership, if I had needed one.
Riding High  Ted Simon  p244
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 12, 2017, 09:40:13 AM
The road led north, back to Argentina. The frontier was at Caracoles, ten ten thousand feet up, and there was one road across the mountain pass to Mendoza, but it was closed to traffic by the Chilean frontier guards. The only way through was by the railway tunnel. I waited for two hours, with a growing company of cars and trucks, until the oncoming train from Argentina had passed. Then I was sent in ahead of the four-wheeled traffic.
The tunnel was three kilometres long, an unlined hole through the living rock. Boards had been laid on either side of one rail, but I was warned to stay to the right, between the rail and the rock face.
There was no lighting. The rocks dripped water on me and on the boards which were slippery with mud. I moved, painfully slow, through the gloom, aware of the car behind me which always seemed to be too close. Again and again I felt my rear wheel slip and slide out of control until at one point I was almost certain that the tyre was punctured, and I wondered how to choose between the twin horrors of risking an accident or trying to repair a tyre.
I went on and on, and on, interminably creeping through that foul hole until, at last, I saw a faint glimmer ahead. Never have I been more glad to see the light at the end of a tunnel. I came out into a glorious valley and as I sped along beside a tumbling mountain stream it became ever more beautiful, ever more enticing. The valley broadened and deepened and my spirits, released from the dark tunnel, expanded and soared, and I was away and on the road and flying again.
Riding High  Ted Simon  pp275-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 13, 2017, 04:56:27 PM
Times were good, then bad, then good again- and always interesting. I made my own decisions, imposed my own demands on myself and succeeded at what was most important. Every day was different. There was always something new to learn and enjoy, so that even the bad times became, in their way, enjoyable. The mistakes I made (there would always be mistakes- without them there could be no life, no evolution) were revealing, often amusing, but not tragic. I was making progress, in the most satisfying way I could imagine, towards the accomplishment of an objective which I, at least, considered quite grand: the mental and physical comprehension of the world. I was not unduly beholden to anyone, and I was free of guilt.
Riding High  Ted Simon  pp303-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 14, 2017, 12:37:18 PM
I dress in three sets of Alpinestar's thermal underwear bottoms, cargo trousers, biker boots. On top are further layers of Alpinestar, three T-shirts, cord shirt, two jerseys, leather bomber jacket. Over all comes a zippered pale blue thermal work suit bought on sale half-price in Ushuaia and I wear two pairs of gloves.
Elastic ties hold a small suitcase above a top box clipped to the cargo rack. I wheel the bike alongside a concrete block and mount it. Half a dozen well-wishers watch as I heave a leg over the saddle. Two kicks on the starter and the engine buzzes.
Graciela kisses me on both cheeks. "Be careful, Little Grandfather."
"Certainly..."
Helmet on, goggles lowered over my bifocals and off I wobble. Imagine a large, pale, grey-bearded blue balloon.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 15, 2017, 09:06:36 AM
Cars queue in three lines. I complete an Immigration fiche. A Uruguayan Customs officer rips off the original, hands me the copy and waves me through. I suspect that I should say, "Wait a minute. Don't I need my passport stamped or register the temporary import of the Honda?"
What will happen when I try to leave Uruguay?
Weren't my difficulties in leaving Argentina sufficient?
Two tour coaches follow me out of Colonia. Fearful, I watch them in the mirror and have to brake hard to avoid running a red light. Out of town a straight highway shaded by palm trees flows over gentle hills. I slow and ease on to the hard shoulder. The coach drivers wave as they swish by.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p56
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 16, 2017, 02:23:41 PM
A small truck driver with bow legs wears baggy shorts and a Manaus T-shirt. He has never been to Manaus. A big truck driver in jeans and a plain shirt has driven from Manaus this week. He was held up for six days by floods.
Or he may have been on a calamitous six-day surfing holiday- translating from Brazilian Portuguese to my Cuban Spanish is an inexact science- the only certainty, that water featured and wasn't fun.
Communicating, however inadequately, with the truck drivers has rekindled my enthusiasm- back on the bike and ride till dusk. Weary, I pull into a petrol station with an empty truck park and a single-floor hotel, no village, tall shade trees, a couple of shacks. The hotel is shut. Perhaps it was built before trucks had beds. The petrol pump attendant sends a small boy running to one of the shacks and a woman brings a key. The ten-dollar room is half the size of a squash court, cold-water bathroom with rusting fixtures, double bed with clean linen, mosquito netting on the window. The roof extends over a front terrace overlooking the road. I sit alone on an iron chair at an iron table. The woman brings a cold beer. A few truck drivers shower at the back then gather on the terrace. An elderly man (my age?) walks over from the shacks. He points to the registration plate. "Mexico..."
"Mexico," I agree.
Where am I going?
Brasilia, Porto Velho, Manaus, Venezuela, New York...
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  pp70-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on May 16, 2017, 07:22:11 PM
 :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 17, 2017, 01:04:16 PM
My bike was built at the Honda factory here in Manaus. I ride out to the factory this afternoon. Manoel Antonio Liborio dos Santos, Director of Production, is my bike's daddy. Manoel summons a cosmetic surgeon and manicurist. They change the rear wheel and the drive sprocket and the petrol tank and the mirrors. I forbid the changing of the rear wheel fairing; the black web of repairs is the biker equivalent of German duelling scars. A Japanese Brazilian, Mario Okubo, and Francisca Viana- both from the Department of Institutional Relations (whatever that is)- conduct me on a factory tour. Manaus is 1,000 kilometres from anywhere. It is in the middle of the Amazon forest. Surely an odd place to site a vast factory? Taxes are the explanation. Manaus is a tax-free zone.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 18, 2017, 06:40:00 PM
The Honda factory employs 8,000 workers in three shifts. All employees, whether executives or on the assembly line wear the same white overalls with HONDA embroidered on the breast pocket. A new bike comes off the assembly line every 50 seconds- 6,000 bikes a day, thirteen models. Bikes are exported downriver to more than sixty countries and Honda sells 1,200,000 bikes a year inside Brazil in a market of 1,500,000. That is one big market slice. As with the US, Brazil has an internal market capable of sustaining manufacturing. Workers on the assembly line earn 800 reals monthly- well over double the minimum wage. They receive pensions, injury insurance and medical benefits. They don't appear hurried or pressured. What would I know?    
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 19, 2017, 09:27:43 AM
The winding coast road is blasted out of the flank of precipitous mountains. The coast is pierced with coves and inlets and gulfs; the sea is spread with rocky islands. I slow wherever possible to let trucks and cars pass. Don't let them pass and they overtake on the next blind curve. Why? Because this is Venezuela. Suicide behind the wheel is Venezuela's national sport. Every television channel carries a police advertisement featuring blood, guts, crumpled metal, shattered windscreens and this year's death toll: 36,211 and climbing.
Barcelona is draped in red posters and banners. A cop directs me to the historic district. "After dark, it is dangerous," he warns. "Very dangerous. It is full of thieves, degenerates, drug addicts, homosexuals and prostitutes."
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 20, 2017, 06:23:29 AM
Centre for the oil industry, Maracay is a vast industrial sprawl of refineries and tower office blocks. It will be my last city in Venezuela. I am on a six-lane urban thruway. A truck pulling a trailer loaded with steel girders sits on my backside. I slow a second to check the overhead signs and he hits his klaxon. A small Chevrolet whips across from the outside lane to the hard shoulder, overtakes a truck on the inside, swerves back to the fast lane. A pickup shoots from the fast lane to an exit, missing me by inches. I pull into a petrol station and walk to the toilets and confront myself in the mirror over the hand basin. I'm weeping and I can't stop. I don't want to be seen weeping so sit on the toilet bowl with the door locked. The longer I sit the more scared I become of continuing.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p114
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 22, 2017, 09:27:57 AM
European travellers complain of rudeness suffered at the hands of US Immigration and Customs officials (US travellers are equally irritated when entering Europe). Near midnight at Kennedy and passengers wait hangdog in long queues to offer eyeball and passport for computer interrogation. A kindly officer waves me to the kiosk for diplomats. I have saved my pennies by travelling at an unsocial hour. Anya, dearest daughter, doubts my ability to cross a street and has ordered a limo to bring me out to Duchess County, New York. The limo surely costs her twice the price of my Taca Airlines ticket.
The limo driver is accustomed to Kennedy and has allowed hour for officialdom. I am through in twenty minutes and await his arrival. Snow deepens on the roads as we approach the farm. My daughter, belly proud, waits at the door. Love slices me open as would a scalpel. Joyously eviscerated, I disguise my tears behind an inanely sheepish and very British grin. "Hi, Anya! You look great. Thanks for the limo..."
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p150
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 23, 2017, 09:38:53 AM
Eight-thirty of a typical evening on a Costa Rican highway the driver swerves. Thump! We've killed a cyclist. No lights on the bike. An ambulance removes the corpse. Cops remove our driver to be held six days pending investigation.
We passengers wait for a replacement coach. In England, passengers would be in shock. Central America, dead cyclists are standard. The small boy in the seat ahead drapes a sheet to make a play house. Even a pair of nuns smile. I keep thinking of the family of the deceased- do they know he's dead? Or are they waiting up for him? And the driver? Horror must be churning his belly. All these lives changed.
I was under a truck in Tierra del Fuego.
Terror almost did for me in Venezuela.
Giving up takes more courage than continuing- the shame factor.
Ten-thirty and finally a local town bus arrives to take us to the frontier to meet a coach sent from Panama City. I sit in the front seat and watch the new driver. He drives with one hand on the wheel while jabbering into his mobile phone. The bus shimmies on the soft shoulder as he overtakes a truck. Surely murdering him would be justified.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  pp155-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 24, 2017, 10:18:56 AM
The Pan American Highway crosses hill country with magnificent panoramas of Panama's mountain spine. I descend to the western plains and cruise at ninety kilometres per hour. The rear tyre blows. I am on a section of dual carriageway. Klaxons blare as the bike skitters side to side. Tip at this speed, end of journey- yet I don't dare brake and require a good fifty metres to halt the bike. Already breathless from fright, I push the bike up a gradient to a petrol station where a boy helps dismount the wheel. A three-inch nail has shredded the inner tube; fortunately I carry a spare; equally useful would be a spare leg and renewed nerves.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p158
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 25, 2017, 09:34:57 AM
Staying with Gillian and Joe forever isn't an option. The bike waits. Joe is jealous of the bike. He has ridden an ancient Vespa round Europe and the Middle East. He would garage the Vespa for years where so ever his journeying took him, return to reclaim it when the travel bug next struck.
Aged fifty, Joe discovered hot air balloons and forsook all other interests. Gaining a pilot licence, he crossed to Europe, won a bunch of prizes. Kenya came next where Gillian discovered Joe flying tourists over the game reserve. Joe retired from Kenya and professional ballooning aged sixty-five and moved with Gillian to Granada. A couple of years ago he canoed down Nicaragua's San Juan River. Now he seeks a new adventure. He is younger than me by six months and great company. However I prefer to travel alone. Travel with a companion and you talk with the companion rather than with natives of the country through which you pass.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  pp168-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 26, 2017, 12:48:39 PM
I stop at a police post and ask whether there is a hotel before Copan.
"No, but the road is safe."
"No bandits?"
"No bandits, but don't stop."
Don't stop is hardly a confidence booster.
My Honda is kick-start, no battery; drop the engine revs and the headlight dims. The road twists through mountains. On a climb I follow a slow-moving truck with good lights. The driver knows the road and speeds downhill. I lose touch on the curves and crawl onward alone and somewhat scared. I pull into the curb when cars overtake. I am not having fun. Two more hours of punishment for breaking the most vital of my safety laws for Latin America: Never Ride at Night.
I made the same damn-fool mistake in Venzuela.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p174
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 28, 2017, 07:16:10 PM
Last night's beer is extra weight as I head up the coastal highway. The first sixty kilometres twist through dry hills. Corners are sharp and badly cambered; stray goats and donkeys graze the verge and wander across the road. The country flattens. Beggarly village follows beggarly village, each scented with dry dung and sun-scorched earth. Inevitably I miss a toper [speed bump], brakes screech, back tyre slithers, saddle slams my crotch.
Daylight is on the wane and I have ridden 500 kilometres. I don't spot 24 HOURS painted on a sign outside a small-town hotel. 24 HOURS denotes a house of assignation. The woman seated in the lobby balloons out of a low-cut blouse, short shorts fastened with a gold glitter belt, high heels. She strikes me as a nice woman, a little motherly. She asks why I travel alone; whether I am married; how many children we have; whether Bernadette minds my being away.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p205
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 29, 2017, 05:11:01 PM
The road rises from irrigated fields into a barren land of sparse scrub. A massive rock escarpment towers ahead. The road winds through a ravine to the right of the escarpment only to face a higher barrier. Now begins the true climb famous (or infamous) for 700 hairpin curves. The road is cut into the mountain. Drops are vertiginous. Ahead towers a yet higher wall. Ravines funnel the gale: total calm in the lee of the mountain is transformed at a corner into a tempest that blasts the bike sideways.
Is this fun?
No, terrifying.
I near the summit and expect to look down on Jalpan. I look up at yet higher mountains. On and up the road clambers into a frontier land of sparse pine forest. Turn a corner and ahead rise yet higher mountains. The forest thickens. Sun bakes out the familiar scent of pines. I wear two jumpers beneath a leather bomber jacket; a chill wind discovers cracks and I shiver as I park the bike and look back down at a Martian landscape of creased rock ridges. How far to the final pass: La Puerto del Cielo, Doorway to the Sky?
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p216
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 30, 2017, 10:04:44 AM
So why am I so tired? Tired is a misnomer. Even exhausted is an understatement. I have been away from home and on the road eight months, always vulnerable- such was the first days lesson when the truck struck and made fear my travel companion.
Seemingly endless series of packing and unpacking; trying to recall in each new hotel room which direction the bathroom is and where the light switches are- Country to country, monstrous poverty; endless tales of corruption; belief so many have that the system is too entrenched; that there is nothing to be done; even trying is to waste one's life.
Such is the reality of Hispanic America. How does the traveler hold to his optimism? And, by nature, I am an optimist (aged seventy-five, only an optimist would attempt this ride).
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p221
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 31, 2017, 10:21:13 AM
The teenagers compete with her in giving directions. My younger sons might understand the teen-speak. The mother recognises my bewilderment and accepts the impossibility of keeping them hushed long enough for a sensible conversation- even if the drenched old Brit on the bike is capable of rational communication (doubtful). "Follow," she says, "I'll drive slow."
She makes a U out of the petrol station and heads right across town to a Ramada Inn.
Many people have aided me on this journey. Few of them will read this account- and expressions of gratitude come easy. Yet I know of a future. I will sit on a bench in our Herefordshire garden, enjoy those few days of sun offered by our English summers and be better warmed by remembered evidence of so much kindness in a troubled world.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  pp252-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 01, 2017, 07:25:54 AM
I sit in the motel lobby and drool at the lush scents of curry seeping from the owners' quarters. A giant enters, giant in height, giant in shoulders, giant in belly- late fifties and losing his hair- stained jeans, stained sweatshirt, scuffed work boots. He leans against the reception counter. The counter quivers. So does the receptionist.
I am inspected by the giant.
"You look depressed," he says. "The type of depression that goes with needing crutches and owning a small bike with a broken chain."
I plead guilty to the ownership and admit the depression.
The giant extends a massive hand, hefts me to my feet. "Let's go get it fixed."
I remark timidly that bike shops close on Sundays.
"We'll open them."
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p261
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 02, 2017, 11:51:06 AM
DUCHESS VIEW FARM
Friday, 11 April 2013

There is a a difference between a love letter and a letter of love. A love letter is written to a lover. This book is a letter of love- and of gratitude to those who made my journey possible; those who picked me up and nursed and mended me when I was broken; sent me on my way with courage restored. It is dedicated firstly to Graciela Abbat Agostinelli- and to her ex-future novio, Fernando- to Pepe Gonzales the one-legged orthopaedic surgeon- to all the residents at the Hostel Argentina,  the oil workers of Rio Grande, my cousins in Buenos Aires, the people of Argentina, a people who proudly portray themselves as tough and macho yet are such softies. They are immensely kind, immensely generous and immensely thoughtful.
Oh that they had better politicians.
My treasured friends, I have waited to write to you until the journey was done. It is your journey. Had I failed, I would have betrayed you.
Old Men Can't Wait  Simon Gandolfi  p267
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 09, 2017, 11:43:20 AM
Sorry all.  Big hiatus in the publications caused by my having a holiday that's so busy I haven't had time to read!
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on June 09, 2017, 12:02:42 PM
Forgiven, time out for holiday was expected
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 16, 2017, 04:02:32 PM
"There is a Honda Pan European 1100 for sale," Ned told me with a pleading look in his eyes. You know that 'little boy lost' look. Need I say more, and all at once we were emptying the coffers and buying a proper touring bike with lots of luggage space. This was an absolute requirement! Sacrifices only go so far. One bright Sunday morning there we stood in our 'Sunday best' as we had been to church, in the clothing department of the bike shop. We bumped into a colleague of mine who was startled to say the least to see me standing in high heels, smart skirt etc with a crash helmet on my head! I stomped around with heavy jacket and trousers and wondered what I had got myself into. Ned was full of beaming smiles and satisfaction. Another biker was 'born again'.
Just Us Two  Rosalie Marsh  p2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on June 16, 2017, 04:10:13 PM
 :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on June 16, 2017, 04:19:24 PM
 :clap
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 18, 2017, 01:28:29 PM
Rosie stood transfixed. She had wandered into the showroom out of the way, while Ned looked at the display of kit car models. His invitation followed on from an earlier interest in them, and there it was- the most beautiful creation you could hope to see. It sat majestically in all its glory, all gleaming black and chrome. It was huge with deeply padded leather seats, controls and knobs worthy of an aeroplane cockpit. It waited patiently on its podium just waiting for them to fall in love with it. Ned came to see where she was.
"What is it?" Rosie asked in wonder.
"It is a Gold Wing," Ned replied and proceeded to point out all its features to this ignoramus. It was a gleaming brand new Honda Gold Wing 1500cc touring motorbike, complete with King and Queen seats and, more importantly, bags of space for luggage and tailored bags in the panniers and trunk. They had reduced the price for a cash sale and although a bargain, was still more than they had.
Just Us Two  Rosalie Marsh  p5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 23, 2017, 09:56:20 PM
Taking the motorways out of north Wales, we eventually reached the Dartford Crossing. Stopping at the Thurrock Services before the bridge, I was surprised when, on coming out to wash my hands, two 'well-heeled' ladies appeared startled at the sight of me, and, abandoning their quest to dry their hands, rushed out. I had a little rueful laugh to myself. It is easy to stereotype people, and there I was a respectable wife, mother and businesswoman, being shunned by strangers. We were riding a machine that cost thousands of pounds, wore gear which was not cheap, and I was being treated as if I was a potential threat. I told Ned when I met him in the carpark that I would love to go in dressed in biking gear and come out dressed in business suit and high heels, carrying my briefcase. That would have made them think!
Just Us Two  Rosalie Marsh  p30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 25, 2017, 06:04:17 PM
However, as a nice Frenchman had tried to lift our pannier off with his bumper bar when on a roundabout outside Biarritz, we ended up at the Police station in town the following morning to report the incident.
The local Gendarmerie next door to the hotel had closed the previous evening and in any case, when they opened the following morning they were not interested and didn't speak English. The hotel receptionist was excellent in using the telephone for us to sort out this problem as there was very little English spoken in this part of the country. This is one good reason for using a recognised chain of hotels- as well as learning French!
Thus, we saw Biarritz in the end, which had been the original reason for going that route to our destination. It did not live up to expectations, and was more like a very grand but faded English seaside town. The Frenchman had insisted that it was our fault and had become very voluble when we showed him the damage. As soon as he saw that I was filming, he hastily got back in his car and drove off. In the Police station in Biarritz, we played back the film I had taken on the camcorder for the Police Inspector who spoke a little but welcome English. In the event this proved useful for our insurance company when we got back home, as the man had put in a claim against us!
Just Us Two  Rosalie Marsh  p45
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 26, 2017, 06:42:13 PM
On the downward ride, I noticed that the ski-chairlifts were parallel with the road! Fighting nausea and hanging on while offering up a prayer, (Ned was OK, he was concentrating and in control) down to Ordino in driving rain. Do not forget that at this point, we were still novices in this type of riding. The planned route back took us around the back of another mountain and northwards to Soldeau, thus avoiding Andorra la Vella. (Suffice to say that I could only pen this part of the story once I had had a brandy and stopped shaking). Onwards and upwards through a pine clad mountain; through thunder, lightning and hailstones, with flooding on the hairpin bends, we dodged the stones which were being washed down to the road. Ned wears spectacles and had to have his visor up as he was steaming up and he could not see in the rain.
Just Us Two  Rosalie Marsh  p50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 27, 2017, 09:27:35 AM
The headphones on the helmets are partly what makes touring enjoyable as you can chat about things. However, they are not always a blessing. Especially not when you hear a very, very, loud voice in your helmet, shaking you out of your reverie.
It was not far to Calais, but the signposting was a little hit and miss and caused a problem, in that we didn't agree what the signposts had said. This caused a little contempt between us; the sound of my sobbing down the intercom culminated in my pulling out my intercom plug!
"Speak to me Rosie," Ned shouted desperately.
(Ned could not speak any French and understood even less.) But of course, I could not hear. Eventually I relented and I restored normal communication channels by plugging the intercom back in.
"That will teach you to shout at me Ned!" I retorted.'
Just Us Two  Rosalie Marsh  p90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 28, 2017, 09:40:57 AM
We walked along the river and took a trip on the London Eye before walking up the Mall, onto Piccadilly and lunch again at Henry's Cafe Bar. The City&Guilds Dinner in the city was excellent. We were dressed up to the nines. We had arrived in biking gear and as we tripped out of the hotel- I in a new long cream dress with a slit up the side teamed with a Guipure lace jacket and gold zebra stripe shoes and Ned in dinner jacket and black tie- I could not help reflecting what a contrast we made to the 'biker image'! It just goes to show that you can't make assumptions or judge a book by its cover.
The following morning, we packed up our glad rags and, with a huge sigh of satisfaction at what we had achieved, kitted ourselves up in our riding gear ready for the last two hundred miles home. All in all, it was a stupendous trip of approximately three thousand seven hundred miles. This 'out of this world' adventure was at times scary, covered a wide spectrum of demanding dramatic Spanish terrain, embraced extremes of heat and cold, and demanded much of the Gold Wing- which did not let us down. It stretched us to the limit as we plunged into the deep well of our inner resources, relying only on each other in a strange country with limited Spanish as we travelled- just us two- and proved that dreams can come true.
You too can follow your dream but sometimes you have to give things a helping hand.
Just Us Two  Rosalie Marsh  pp91-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 29, 2017, 12:20:03 PM
As Ned is forever nosey and can't resist getting his hands dirty, he had taken off the panniers to have a look at what work would have to be done if he went down the 'triking' route. It was not a pretty sight. Ned had found a trike firm in Devon who converted many different types of bikes but had never done a Gold Wing before. Other firms had cornered the market for this but Ned found them too expensive. After many telephone calls, the firm agreed to use our bike as a prototype and, subject to price and Ned being happy with workmanship, we decided to  go down this route.
Just Us Two  Rosalie Marsh  p123
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 30, 2017, 12:31:12 PM
The sun rose now in the sky and the landscape changed to a more scenic and hilly variety. I was able to catch, on the camcorder, our shadows on the road from the rising sun which shows just us two battling it out together. We had lunch near Boulogne and a group of pensioners on a coach trip sent us on our way with a 'thumbs up' sign. We had their approval! Laughing, I returned with 'two thumbs up' as we headed off for the last few miles to Dunkirk and our ferry to Dover, family in the South West of England and then the wonderful hills of North Wales and home.
On the ferry, we settled ourselves just in time for Ned to watch the motor racing on the wide screen TV that was, for him, the perfect end to our trip. As we made our way back to the car deck, we paused outside to look at the looming land. Oh, look Ned, there is our trike! Ned was not a happy bunny as he realised that where we had been directed- behind bikes even though we had booked on as a car- was out in the open. He was fuming to think of all the salty sea spray, which must be giving his baby a shower. He calmed down a little when he reflected that it not much different from riding along the promenade at Blackpool where the sea spray crashes in over the railings.
Just Us Two  Rosalie Marsh  pp161-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 01, 2017, 05:08:40 PM
From my living room window, I watched the snowline move down the mountains and retreat again in the spring. Ice climbs formed, ripened and vanished as I huddled before the cold, blue glow of my television.
By early summer, my "tripod of misery" - like the ice - began to crack and falter. My ankle would soon heal and I suppressed boredom by getting a job.
My loneliness, however, proved stubborn and adaptive. It evolved from a sharp pain to a dull ache that at once filled me and pressed against me, making every breath I drew an act of volition. Loneliness fed on my inertia and grew stronger as the summer dragged on. But if I had learned anything from watching ninja movies ail winter, I had learned this: a successful warrior uses his opponent's strength to defeat him.
With loneliness comes a certain freedom. Freedom enables mobility and independence. There. I had a new tripod. And what embodies these three elements better than a motorcycle? I formulated a simple, ambiguous plan - to ride south and live happily ever after.
Motorcycle Therapy  Jeremy Kroeker  p2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 02, 2017, 04:33:25 PM
"140 pesos," he replied, "for six hours."
I looked at Trevor. It sounded like he'd said 140 pesos for six hours. Now, why would we pay for six hours? That would only give us until midnight.
"How much for the entire night?" I persisted.
"That's not possible," the manager said. "Only six hours." Of course, to the streetwise traveller, it would have been apparent what sort of motel this was. Even the name suggested what we, two naive boys from the Canadian prairies, were slowly beginning to understand: the Mirage Motel, with its flashing pink and blue neon sign and private parking stalls, was a den of the sexually damned. That explained the salacious stare of the moderately attractive girl, who now stood uncomfortably close to me, and why she kept getting closer.
We felt our innocence ebbing away with every moment and opted for a hasty retreat, but my bike wouldn't start. Like zombies from a bad movie, the unholy trio crept closer and closer as I tried to engage the engine. Trevor had to give me a push to start the bike and we fatalistically sped into the black heart of the city to meet certain peril.
The streets became darker, busier, and our stress levels began to spike. Then Trevor spotted a low-budget hotel. He guarded the bikes while I inspected the room, but realistically, as long as I found no dead hookers on the floor, it would do just fine. The manager let us wheel our bikes inside the hotel for the night.
Motorcycle Therapy  Jeremy Kroeker  p12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 03, 2017, 01:04:32 PM
The sound of our engines rising and falling to negotiate sharp curves and steep hills added fuel to the flame of exhilaration within. Wind whistled off my helmet and snapped at my blue nylon jacket. Perhaps, more than anything, it's the sound of riding a motorbike that makes you feel alive and transforms every man into a boy.
As I approached a sharp hairpin turn, I could see Trevor below, riding in the opposite direction. It was a perfect moment. I became acutely aware that this snapshot in time would remain in my mind forever. At that moment, there was nothing else I would rather have been doing anywhere on earth. It took me 30 years to learn this, but perfect moments happen more than we realize. The trick is to recognize them when they appear and really live in them. You can ruin a perfect moment by worrying about the past or the future. Perfect moments fade - there will always be time to worry when they are gone.
Motorcycle Therapy  Jeremy Kroeker  p16
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 04, 2017, 11:28:26 AM
Trevor and I fired up our bikes with the push of a button. Some of the soldiers looked confused and mimicked the motion of a kick-start engine with their legs. Obviously impressed with the machines, they suddenly wanted to see us do wheelies. They raised imaginary handlebars above their heads, and pointed at the highest number on our speedometers, then at us.
Now, the highest number on the speedometer of a KLR 650, measured in kilometres, is 180. The guy in charge of speedometer design for Kawasaki either had little communication with the engineers, or badly misinterpreted what they told him about the machine. Then again, numbers on motorcycle speedometers are notoriously arbitrary. Larger numbers indicate a higher rate of speed than smaller numbers, but accuracy never factors into the equation. They might as well make speedometers with the symbol of a rabbit and turtle to indicate fast and slow, like old John Deere lawn tractors.
I'm not sure what would happen if I ever tried to bury the needle on my speedometer, but I imagine I would be vibrated into unconsciousness long before I succeeded. I pointed to a more reasonable number - 80 - and nodded my head, hoping to convince the soldiers that we would never violate traffic laws in their fine country. They knew as well as I did that the only traffic law in Mexico was an abridged version of The Origin of Species.
Motorcycle Therapy  Jeremy Kroeker  p38
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 05, 2017, 11:36:12 AM
Following a two-week break, Trevor and I felt refreshed and eager ride. We still irritated each other, but our partnership had grown stronger and we even had some goals: we would at least try to ride to Panama.
We finished packing and rode into the streets of Xela, streets we knew like the backs of our hands. Within five minutes we got lost. We circled by known landmarks along familiar streets and past many friends, Ohad, Jordan, Rudy and Otra. Their enthusiasm at seeing us waned with each lap of our misguided farewell tour until they eventually pretended not to see us graciously saving us further embarrassment. When we finally broke the code and escaped the city, Trevor executed a celebratory motorcycle crash by grabbing his front brake while cornering on gravel.
"Did you see that?" he asked in astonishment. How could I have missed it? He'd crashed about six feet in front of me.
Motorcycle Therapy  Jeremy Kroeker  p73
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 06, 2017, 10:06:12 AM
A warm wind snapped at my nylon jacket as we rode along El Salvador's majestic coastal highway. It was another perfect moment. I could see Trevor riding in front of me, silhouetted against the glistening Pacific, when suddenly, something eclipsed the sun. Slowly, deliberately, I turned my gaze to check my rear-view mirror and gasped at what I saw.
The frame of my mirror contained nothing but one enormous headlight of a transport truck that was riding my tail and closing the distance. That guy is so close I can nearly touch his bumper, I thought and, for reasons I can't explain, my body considered that a command.
I twisted around to face the truck, keeping my right hand steady on the throttle to maintain our delicate equilibrium. Resting my torso on the backpack strapped to my rear seat and reaching as far back as I could with my left arm, I extended my index finger. I could not touch the bumper, so (and this I really can't explain), I gently rolled back the throttle. The look of bewilderment and horror on the driver's face as he slammed on his brakes was very entertaining and I instantly had plenty of room.
Motorcycle Therapy  Jeremy Kroeker  p80
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 07, 2017, 10:18:08 AM
A wildly drunken young man in a dirty white dress shirt sat beside us on the concrete bench. He eagerly welcomed us to his country and extended a filthy hand in friendship. Rather than shaking his hand I signalled with an enthusiastic thumbs-up, implying that such a greeting was customary amongst Canadians. I offered him the stub of my burning cigar. He mimicked the greeting and reluctantly accepted the stogie.
The man examined the smouldering gift tentatively from every angle before putting it timidly to his lips. Why he suddenly abandoned caution and drew on the stogie like he was trying to suck the water from a swimming pool I'll never know, but it triggered an ejaculation of saliva and mucus from nearly every observable orifice. The man embarked on a journey of convulsive hacking so violent that it may have deposited him momentarily on the doorstep of the spirit world, for after regaining his composure and sitting down, he stared at me with hollow eyes as if he had seen the face of God. In the ensuing moments of quiet reflection, the man may have thought of a question for God, because he slowly raised the cigar to his mouth and took another outrageously large hit with similar results, once more dancing recklessly on the thin line separating life and death.
Again he recovered and took his seat beside me, this time smiling and shaking his head as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. He politely offered me the cigar. When I refused to accept it, he extinguished it with his fingers and tucked it neatly in his shirt pocket, presumably in the event he ever wished to rephrase his question. With a wave and a nod, he stumbled to the ornamental fountain in the middle of the park, plunged his head into the stagnant water and came up with a mouthful, gargling.
Motorcycle Therapy  Jeremy Kroeker  p100
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 08, 2017, 08:27:06 PM
The carving Einer gave me sat on my desk glaring at me with angry wooden eyes. Its perfection reminded me of my flaws: flaws that I've always had, flaws that I may rage against but never change. Still, I reasoned, as any therapist will tell you, recognizing a problem is the first step towards correcting it. What had I accomplished? I could see a little better who I was, and who I wanted to be. A year went by before the lines of communication re-opened between Trevor and me with an e-mail that simply read, "Hey. Are you still alive?" The reply: "Yeah. Do you still have your bike?" Intermittent e-mails and phone calls ensued and, 18 months after I'd dropped him in Manitoba, Trevor rode his KLR, laden with gear, to Canmore on his way to the west coast.
Seeing him pull into my driveway almost made me cry. I felt ashamed of how we'd parted ways and eager to make amends. Could Trevor forgive me? He got off the bike and we exchanged one of those awkward handshakes that turn into a manly hug with lots of backslapping. The next day I loaded some basic gear onto my bike and we rode south into the mountains.
Motorcycle Therapy  Jeremy Kroeker  pp114-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 09, 2017, 03:25:44 PM
Ted Bishop
I was working on a book called "The Social Life of Ink" and when I learned about a man in Utah who made Gutenberg-replica printing presses, I had to go see him. The printer, Steve Pratt, refused email and avoided the phone. This seemed like a good excuse to extend a ride: I was going to the Tynda motorcycle rally anyway and thought, Easy: I'll bop down to Eugene, Oregon, nip across to Utah, and swing home to Edmonton. A big triangle with a flat base. Somehow I had failed to notice the Pratt ranch was far south of Eugene, and that I would be crossing the great Nevada desert.
But, of course, the only way I get anywhere interesting is through willful self-delusion - an essential character trait for both motorcyclists and writers. If you allowed yourself to think realistically about either enterprise, you would never start.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p22
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 10, 2017, 02:19:03 PM
Mark Richardson
So I fixed up the Bajaj 100 as best I could and then proudly showed it to the couriers. They admired the tightness of the chain, and nodded enthusiastically when I showed them how easily the levers pulled the cables. They stood back when I sat astride the bike and kicked its engine to life and they watched politely as I roared up the road, the revs rising higher and higher. And higher. And higher.
I rode back more slowly. "It won't shift out of first," I said. "It must be a problem with the clutch." I parked the bike and squinted at everything that could be squinted at, but all seemed fine. I worked the cable and poked at things, then got back on the bike and rode it back up the road. Again, the couriers watched politely and listened to the little engine scream against its red line, and again, they watched me return, and they looked sad.
"I guess its the transmission," I shrugged. "I should choose another bike."
A courier stepped forward. "May I try?" he asked, and I waved him toward the bike. He sat on it, kicked the kickstarter, listened to the engine, then set off up the road. I heard the motor's pitch rise and fall with each confident gear change, all the way to fourth. Then he turned around at the end of the road, put the bike into second and cruised gently back.
"I think, perhaps, you were using the pedal the opposite way," he told me with absolute courtesy, and of course he was right. The Bajaj was made in India and so its left pedal worked the rear brake and its right worked the gears. I already knew this, but even then, it was opposite to anything I'd ridden before: the gears were one push up, three pushes down. The courier had seen me jabbing the wrong way at the pedal when I wanted to shift into second, but had been too polite to mention it.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  pp30-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 11, 2017, 12:20:53 PM
Sam Manicom
A whiff of wood smoke was the first hint that we were approaching a small village, then we were greeted by the bizarre sight of a crowd of people- men, women and children lining the road. They were dressed from head to toe in pure white robes and white turbans; black Arabic lettering decorated the long white banners that they were waving on poles. When the people saw us, the women started to ululate. Their high-pitched wailing seemed to rise and fall in an odd sort of harmony, and was clearly audible even over the noise of the bike and through my helmet. The crowd parted as we rode closer, and then the people swarmed around us. With obvious pride, a tray of purple-coloured drinks was proffered. It was one of those situations where refusal might well have offended. The juice was diluted pomegranate, and delicious, but after seeing the last village's water supply I wondered how long it would be before I fell ill. We thanked them as best we could and rode on, leaving a strangely confused crowd behind us.
The road continued to get rockier and the hills higher. At the next village we were greeted in much the same fashion, but this time a bellowing cow was dragged out in front of us. To our horror, its throat was cut with a large curved sword. Blood spurted out across the road and we kept on going. It was a little bit too bizarre for us to linger.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p52
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 12, 2017, 09:59:47 AM
Sandy Borden
When you ride as a family, you add a new, very personal variable to the mix of things that may affect your trip: you are taking your child on the road via two wheels. While this may not be the first choice for many families who like to travel, its certainly not out of the question. Some people have told us our mode of transportation is "dangerous", but we find it much more dangerous to cram a family into a small car and ask them to be patient for the next six to eight hours.
Jack is our decision-maker when it comes to pressing on or staying put. He is our rational voice in questionable moments. Knowing that the heat of the summer was going to be upon us, we made the decision to bypass the New Mexico portion of the ride. Asking our little man to bear the Arizona heat on our journey east just to say "We did it!" was unfair. To be honest, this was a bit hard for me and Terry. We wanted to say we did the entire route "just like everybody else". But we needed to remember one thing- we are not like everybody else.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p59
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 13, 2017, 10:57:14 AM
Paddy Tyson
In a handful of kilometres I was at it again; this was an even smaller crossing and one I could ride. Ha ha! Still nearly two hours of daylight and, by my reckoning, hardly 60 kilometres to go. I upped the pace. The crocs were history, the track was manageable, the bike was running well, my abilities were clearly invincible, and my desire for another beer was palpable.
Down a tunnel of vegetation another pathetic stream appeared, maybe five metres wide, but engulfed in shadow. The water was pleasantly calm. The heat remained intense, so I slowed on approach and then went for the cooling spray option, gently opening the throttle in second gear. I was in control and it felt good. No croc would dare take me on now, nor could those pesky, scaly dinosaurs keep me from my dinner.
They didn't need to.
As the indicators, headlight, and then clocks disappeared into that calm, deep water hole, everything changed.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p69
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 14, 2017, 09:19:24 AM
Neil Peart
Another science of paramount importance to a motorcyclist is meteorology- the weather. (As a weather enthusiast, I confess that that seems like a sweet science, too.) Unlike passengers in a car, a motorcycle rider is exposed to every degree of temperature, every drop of precipitation, and every unsettling crosswind. I have noted before that on the motorcycle, I can feel a rise or fall of only two degrees, and of course the difference between riding on a wet or dry road surface changes everything. Temperature and moisture have a direct effect not only on one's comfort level, but on that all-important physical relationship with the road.
Traction, control, margin of error, not falling down.
Then there is the "vision" thing, to see and be seen. Clearly (or not), the weather has much to do with that, as well.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p74
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 15, 2017, 08:30:43 AM
When I could bear no more, I pulled in at a small coffee shop to warm up. I had some thermal underwear tucked away in my tank bag and I figured that it would do wonders to keep me warm, if not dry.
With all eyes in the crowded room fixed on me, I walked- squish- squish- squish- as directly as possible to the bathroom, leaving boot-sized puddles on the floor. The patrons turned to watch as I squeezed like a wet sponge through a narrow entry and shut the door. Between the toilet and my magnetic tank bag, which clung to the metal radiator, only a few square feet of usable floor space remained- just enough room to stand in the spreading pool at my feet. I clambered onto the toilet for extra space, but the plastic seat was treacherous. When my feet slipped, I gave a shout as I caught myself against the wall. This would be a very stupid way to die.
Back on the floor, I braced myself against the door to remove my gaiters and outer rain booties, piling them on the ground to stand upon as sort of Gore-Tex bath mat. To unlace my boots, I lifted each one up on to the toilet, dropping them to the ground with a splash and standing on them too, on what was now the only dry patch in the room.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p81
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 16, 2017, 05:02:28 PM
Issa Breibish
Morocco, the easiest of the North African countries to travel, has become a petri dish of disaster for us, nurturing the growth of several disparate events into one massive cock-up. An exciting one hundred hours have passed since Nita's heart first showed signs of exploding in Spain and, with alarming regularity, new ingredients have continued to pour into the mix. Her irregular heartbeat brought on severe tunnel vision, then a cascading sweat, along with seized hands and feet- not a great combination for controlling a motorcycle.
Perhaps we should have taken the two hospital visits and ambulance rides in Almeria as bad omens. Instead, in what can only be described as delusional optimism, we just changed our ferry departure to the following day.
Then, at the border at Beni Ansar in Morocco, a stern man who looked like Saddam Hussein in an olive-drab onesie detained me for carrying cameras aboard my motorcycle. He feared that the tiny lenses had caught the commonplace corruption that tends to exist where officials hold power over people.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  pp84-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 17, 2017, 09:11:37 AM
Carl Parker
I did encounter a few negative situations in five years of motorbiking western China, but the overwhelming majority of my experiences there were bridge-building and life-affirming - even if perplexing at times. While the landscapes were physically amazing, what ultimately mattered were the lessons about humanity that continually added to understanding of the personal potential and the fraternal nature of mankind. Regardless of age or era, nothing can replace the new perspectives on life which come from embracing an adventurous spirit.
Life is inherently full of adventure if we make it so. Some of us are adventurers and don't even know it. Riding around the world, just as with starting a family or a business, is a monumental effort we willingly undertake despite the risks and sacrifices. For some, risk is an excuse not to play; for others it's the challenge to overcome through questioning what we value in life, and to choose how to spend our most precious and ever-expiring resource - time. What will we do today, and how will it matter?
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  pp112-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 18, 2017, 09:21:39 AM
I idled up to the only tourist shop still open this late in the season. I asked the girl behind the counter about the path. Was it open? Was it a good road?
The girl was unaccustomed to fielding questions like this in English. She could really only talk about the price of her curios. But after searching for the words, she did manage to articulate a warning. "There is snow," she said. "Its too difficult for him." She meant The Oscillator. "He'll fall."
I decided to ride up anyway and take a look for myself. I've ridden in the snow before and I was imagining the dry, powdery stuff I had seen lower in the valley.
With a wave to the girl, I rode into the fog. I'll bet she could still hear my engine when heavy snow forced me to turn around. As the road pushed through the clouds, it entered a landscape of slush. I pressed on, thinking that I might be near the crest of the pass. But the sleet that stuck to my visor provided no traction for my tires.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p117
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 19, 2017, 09:16:26 AM
Andreas Schroeder
Nevertheless, the last thing I expected at 7 o'clock in the morning was an oncoming, fully loaded logging truck.
I saw the top of his radiator rise into view above the curve before I saw anything else - but that told me everything I didn't want to know. At five car-lengths long, he had to be cutting diagonally across the corner I was just entering. And at the speed I was travelling, I needed every bit of my lane to get through that corner myself.
There was no time to brake - and no point in braking anyway. Abruptly braking a motorcycle in a situation like this would just have compounded the problem.
There was really only one thing to do - lean the bike even harder into the corner, to decrease the radius of my turn to the absolute max.
Easier said than done - my VTX had a low centre of gravity and limited ground clearance. If I leaned any more, I risked dragging its floor-board on the pavement; if a floorboard hits a pothole and digs in, it can spin a bike out of control so fast, it's more like an explosion.
This all raced through my head in a split second, but went nowhere.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p120
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 20, 2017, 09:06:41 AM
Nicole Espinosa
As I slipped further into the automation of daily routine, the idea that it had been three years since my last solo weighed heavily. There was just one prescription to lift that "fog," and that could only be made by the road doctor - Jack B. Nimble, my DRZ.
His prescription: "Three weeks on the road, solo, where I'm the needle, and you are the thread, as we stitch together the most beautiful tapestry of connection with nature, with friends, with ourselves."
"As usual, Jack, you're a wise little bike. Think I'll take heed."
And out the door we flew, after kissing my angels goodbye. You see, my kids have grown up knowing how important these journeys are to me, and to them. They get to witness me living life in a bigger way, and are embracing it for themselves. There will come a day when they, too, will spread their wings and have the confidence to find the highest thermals.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p153
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 21, 2017, 10:12:45 AM
For there, emerging before me as a villain through the fog of a nightmare, stood a monstrous tree. Brakes screaming sand between pad and rotor, I skidded to a stop. I would have hit the tree still- if it hadn't been moving along in my direction.
Thank God for that. Where the thick trunk met the ground, where the roots ought to be, this tree had wheels. Now, as I idled behind it, I could see that this tree was really just a large vehicle spilling over with brushwood.
Peering around it with my head over the dotted line, I saw two trailers hitched to a big-wheeled tractor. As I sighted along the trailers, even the machine pulling them blurred into the storm. Aware that Syrian drivers never use their headlights, I understood the blind risk of an attempt to pass.
My headlight would never penetrate this cloud, but I switched it to high anyway before rolling on the throttle. Looking up as I passed, I saw the driver squinting into the wind, his dark robes flapping, his kafiya wrapped tightly around his head. I pulled back in front of the tractor just as an oncoming transport truck swept along, its dark mass creating turbulent eddies of sand that shook the bike. The driver flashed his lights at me, not as a warning, but to remind me that my headlight was on and that I should switch it off.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p173
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 22, 2017, 09:44:29 AM
Geoff Hill
When we weren't being toasted, sandpapered, soaked, and baked, there was little to do but appreciate what a Zen-like activity riding long distances on a motorcycle is, since, alone with your thoughts, there's plenty of time to contemplate the stillness at the centre of your being, which (as we all know) in traditional Buddhist thinking is one inch above your navel at a point called the hara. Which is, funnily enough, about the only part of you that remains still on a motorcycle like the Enfield, with its series of rhythms all designed to reduce your bones to marrow and your internal organs to jelly.
You see, whereas German bikes are built on the theory that, like the Third Reich, they will last a thousand years, old British bikes are constructed on the Zen principle that everything changes. At rest on an Enfield there is the slow heartbeat of that huge piston lolloping up and down; cruising speed, a deep purr- like a lion after a particularly satisfying wildebeest- which slowly unscrews all the large nuts and bolts on the bike; and at high speed, there is a finer, more subtle threnody- like the wind in telegraph wires- which loosens all the small ones. Patrick would probably know a technical term for them all, but to me they sounded like the music of the stars.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p179
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 23, 2017, 01:21:25 PM
Natalie Ellis Barros
I slowed down to keep pace with a red-tailed hawk. At first, he nearly crashed right into me, but then for almost a whole mile he flew beside me. He was close enough that I could make out the sharp curve of his beak and the bright red of his tail feathers. I smiled from under my helmet, and when my companion finally took off and I went around a bend, knew I could never feel more alive. I've never believed in fate but, if there is such a thing, then this is it. This is what I was meant for.
I startled a bobcat that scampered uphill like a bullet, and I slipped past the ever-crowded Big Sur seemingly unnoticed. I stopped for lunch in Monterrey again and, as I turned inland, I sang Prince at the top of my lungs. The beauty of the full-faced helmet is that you can still look like a bad-ass while screeching "Little Red Corvette" at the top of your lungs. When I finally did arrive home, I was more exhausted and more fulfilled than I had ever been in my entire 23 years of life.
Next stop, South America. Anyone down?
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p233
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 24, 2017, 08:32:36 AM
What a tragedy that would be, if none of us ventured into the wider world to seek connection and understanding. Ted Simon might never have left England in 1973, at the age of 42, if he succumbed to the fear that taking his journey would forever cast him to the outer circles of society always looking in on the lives of the comfortably secure people. He struggled with mortal fears and self-doubt in the pages of his seminal book, Jupiter's Travels, and aren't you glad he did?
He came back from his adventure with an understanding that, essentially, people are good and kind, and that the more vulnerable a person becomes while travelling, the more hospitable a place the world can seem.
That's where the motorcycle comes into play. We are exposed on these wonderful machines. We are fragile. And we are usually better off because of it.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  pp334-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ppopeye on July 24, 2017, 12:03:10 PM


Quote from: Biggles on July 22, 2017, 09:44:29 AM (http://ozstoc.com/index.php?topic=917.msg1223579#msg1223579)<blockquote>Geoff Hill
When we weren't being toasted, sandpapered, soaked, and baked, there was little to do but appreciate what a Zen-like activity riding long distances on a motorcycle is, since, alone with your thoughts, there's plenty of time to contemplate the stillness at the centre of your being, which (as we all know) in traditional Buddhist thinking is one inch above your navel at a point called the hara. Which is, funnily enough, about the only part of you that remains still on a motorcycle like the Enfield, with its series of rhythms all designed to reduce your bones to marrow and your internal organs to jelly.
You see, whereas German bikes are built on the theory that, like the Third Reich, they will last a thousand years, old British bikes are constructed on the Zen principle that everything changes. At rest on an Enfield there is the slow heartbeat of that huge piston lolloping up and down; cruising speed, a deep purr- like a lion after a particularly satisfying wildebeest- which slowly unscrews all the large nuts and bolts on the bike; and at high speed, there is a finer, more subtle threnody- like the wind in telegraph wires- which loosens all the small ones. Patrick would probably know a technical term for them all, but to me they sounded like the music of the stars.
Motorcycle Messengers  Jeremy Kroker (ed)  p179




I love the description in para 2. Now I know why some bikes have loose bits. Large and small.😳

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 25, 2017, 10:30:34 AM
Our room is on the top floor, with views across the rooftops to the Palace of the Parliament - dictator Nicolea Ceausescu's folly. There's an English language tour of this testament to the excesses of the disgraced dictator this afternoon.
Without thinking, Shirl leaves her heated vest on underneath her jumper and this creates a great deal of interest from the security staff. It sets off the alarms when she walks through the metal detector. You can imagine what they must think of the wires inside the vest. Eventually she convinces them she's just a chilly pillion passenger and not a terrorist.
Ceausescu ordered the demolition of 20 per cent of the city to build this massive structure. Hundreds of homes, churches and historic buildings were destroyed after he gave 40,000 people a day's notice to leave their homes. He didn't care that he was destroying history and leaving thousands of people homeless. His people starved as he spared no expense on the building. Its marble and crystal interior and the works of art, tapestries and sculptures throughout the 1,000 rooms prove, in some cases, that just because you have money you don't necessarily have style.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  p17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 26, 2017, 10:18:46 AM
I am in love with Norway and will forgive her the cold winds, rain, hail, sleet and snow because of her beauty.
The country is linked by a network of tunnels, ferries and bridges. The paper map shows a turn we need to take. What we don't realise is that the turn is in the middle of a tunnel! Yep, there's a roundabout in the centre of the tunnel. The wrong turn is easy to rectify - Brian and Dave just do another lap around the roundabout, take the right road and then take the bridge over another fjord. It is easy to get befuddled.
After crossing the bridge, the road leads us to another fjord and another ferry crossing. We're getting used to these. The GPS tells us to 'board ferry'. Two of the deckhands, Odin and Andreas, are intrigued by the bikes laden with luggage and foreign number plates. Chatting as we cross the fjord, they give us a geography lesson. We are crossing the Sognefjord, Norway's deepest and longest fjord. Its hard to imagine, but this fjord is 1.5 kilometres deep and stretches for more than 200 kilometres.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 27, 2017, 09:55:13 AM
It's cold when we head out, of course. We take the inland route and the countryside is incredible but then we get to the coast and there is the road - a sweeping 'wave' over the water.
On one side is the water, on the other are the islands that dot the coast. The water is calm and the traffic light. It's perfect. We ride over the main bridge. And then we ride back. And then we ride over and back again. Like our first ride through Lysefjordveien we just can't believe the beauty and the thought that has gone into creating this motorcycle nirvana. It's only a short piece of road but it's so much fun.
Riding across I do a double take when I look across the islands. There is a long, slim Viking ship moving slowly across the water - a ghost ship, of course. It's a tourist attraction - row your own Viking longship.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  p48
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 28, 2017, 09:48:25 AM
Like all motorcyclists should, I think it's a good idea to 'own' your part of the road. That means riding where the driver of the car would be, close to the middle of the road. In Russia, that is fraught with danger. While I'm sitting at or near the speed limit cars are whizzing past at up to 50 kph faster, and because I'm 'owning' my space on the road being overtaken by cars so close they're almost sucking my boot off. While trying to look forward, my eyes are constantly on the mirrors looking for fast moving cars, usually black limos with tinted windows.
Coming up behind trucks I check the mirrors and pull out to pass, but with some lunatics easily doing double the speed limit it's almost Russian roulette. I don't want to gamble with travelling at their pace. Foreigners on motorcycles are easy prey for police, with a traffic stop becoming a potential wallet-lightening exercise.
I pull into the first service station. I just need to think about how to handle riding and mixing with the traffic here without killing us. I figure that if I see the fast ones coming up behind us I need to anticipate their passing and, at the right time, move towards the edge of the road. Here's where a pillion comes in handy.
Righto Shirl, your job is to watch in the mirrors for fast-moving cars and let me know. Two sets of eyes are better than one.
Back on the road and working as a team we do okay and get used to dodging pot holes, tractors, trucks, donkeys and fast-moving limos.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  p90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 29, 2017, 05:00:07 PM
There is a mural map of the Silk Road outside the main city gates, showing the road weaving across Persia, India, Central Asia and Europe. A French biker is there taking a photo of himself and his bike with the map. He's just come out of Tajikistan, the next stage of our journey. We've heard there's been a massive landslide.
He missed it by just 100 metres. The road is closed and people are suffering. That could mean a change of plans for us.
Damien goes overland to get the sidecar into the square so we can get our photo of the bikes with the Silk Road map. The bollards which presumably were set up to prevent such activity, pose a problem but he gets around them.
No matter how hard we try, we never hit the road early. It's 9.30am before we are on the road to Bukhara, another ancient town on the Silk road. It's getting hot already.
The roads have been appalling since we left Russia. Each day has tossed up bad roads, worse roads and, very occasionally, reasonable roads. Today is no different until we hit a 140-kilometre stretch of perfectly sealed, brand new highway. It ends as abruptly as it began without any warning signs. It was nice while it lasted.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  p165
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 30, 2017, 06:27:18 AM
The owner helps bring our luggage down and I load up the bike out the front of the hotel with only a small audience. After the obligatory photo he presents us with a small ceramic jug and plate to welcome us to his country. Shirl wraps them in her clothes in the top of the pannier to keep them safe. I don't think I can even fit a cigarette paper on the bike!
He also has some advice for us about the road to Dushanbe.
"It is good apart from one seven-kilometre tunnel. That will be dark and have water in it. I suggest you take the route over the pass. The scenery is very nice."
I've heard about the tunnel - dubbed the 'Tunnel of Death' or the 'Tunnel of Fear'. It bypasses the Anzob Pass. Built by the Iranians, it is dangerous. Water constantly runs through the tunnel and this hides the potholes that may be shallow or deep. They may be just a hole or they may be disguising sharp bits of steel reinforcing from the road.
I don't have to look at Shirl to know she's not happy about the prospect of a ride through the tunnel. Friends who travelled this road last year told us it was awful but they lived to tell the tale and I'm sure we will too.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  p185
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 31, 2017, 09:35:31 AM
Shirl has fallen off from a fair height because of the width of the panniers and hit her head on a rock. She seems a bit dazed. I can't help her straight away because the bike is in the middle of the track. As I've come off I've re-torn my calf and it's bloody painful. I'm working against gravity to right the bike uphill. Stupid. I need to turn it around and use the slope.
Chris comes around the corner and the first thing he sees is Shirl sitting on the edge of the road. Farther around the bend he sees me, struggling with the bike. He dismounts and helps me move the bike just as a 4WD comes around the corner and just misses us.
Shirl can't believe they didn't stop to help.
When I get to her, she's crying and saying she can't go on.
I feel responsible. Sure I wanted to do this road, and I believe she did too but the elements, the incessant truck traffic and raging river we know is in front of us all seem too much right now.
When we do these trips it's for both of us. Shirl is okay. She's not hurt but has a bit of a headache. As we sit on the rocks I tell her we are a team. If we think it's getting too hard then okay, that's it, we go back. We've achieved our aim of getting down into the Pamir and the Afghan border.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  pp206-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 01, 2017, 10:19:43 AM
Hopefully today's ride will be a simple one.
The road is sealed - at first.   On this good section of road taking along the Afghan border, heading south before we turn north for Dushanbe, we pass a group of Russian bikers. They tell us the road is good and then bad and then very bad and then it is all clear sailing to the capital. We knew it couldn't be this good the whole way.
On the first gravel section Shirl tells me something hit her foot. Our tracker has fallen out of the tank bag. Luckily the bright orange device stands out on the road. It would have been a drama if we'd lost this. Every day it sends a message to our family at home, telling them where we are and that we are safe.
It seems like everyone thinks this is the best way to get to Dushanbe. The traffic is much heavier than over the pass. There are numerous small towns, with police checks, so the going is slow. Many of the drivers are keen to get a close look at us - so close it's dangerous. The trucks are spewing out black fumes. The air is so dirty you can feel it on your face, in your eyes and in your mouth.
I think I prefer the road less travelled than this nightmare of traffic congestion where drivers don't use indicators and most of the vehicles don't have brake lights. It is a test of man and machine.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  p213
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 02, 2017, 11:24:44 AM
I leave Shirl washing the bike gear, making the most of the balcony to get it dry, and head to Muz Too. The bike needs some TLC and the Swiss-owned business is just the place. I know they have a mechanic who speaks English and you can use their tools to work on your own bike for a small fee.
I ride through the back streets of Osh with the GPS directing me down little narrow dirt streets and lanes. Just as I think I'm lost, I spy a two-storey house with a small garage and a bike parked out the front. I'm waved through into a big open courtyard in front of an open, barn-like shed with heaps of bikes parked, many with foreign registrations. This is Muz Too.
There's a young hippie couple loading huge backpacks onto a sagging KLX 650 Kawasaki and a mechanic pulling apart a gearbox. I am welcome to use any of the facilities for a donation of the equivalent of US$20 and the price of any parts I want, not that they have much for BMWs. They hire out robust old Yamaha 650cc singles and have enough bits and pieces lying around to build three bikes, I reckon.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  p220
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 03, 2017, 09:36:57 AM
I love spending time with Carol. It's good to talk through some of the problems we have on the road, from a female perspective. The bike being too heavy is always the major issue when travelling two-up. We've sent home all manner of stuff - excess clothes, souvenirs, spare parts, camping gear we are unlikely to use - and still the bike is heavy.
"The only way to get any real weight off the bike is to remove the pillion passenger," Carol says with a laugh. It is funny, but true. Carol's actually offered to travel by bus and meet Ken at night to lighten the load. I haven't gone that far. A heavy bike is just the reality we all have to deal with.
The hard ride through Tajikistan, the heat and the bad roads take their toll and it is good to have a whinge with a woman who understands. I need a home base and I'm missing ours right now. I know life will improve soon. It only takes a couple of good rides, some interesting cities and I'm thriving on our life again.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  p241
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 04, 2017, 08:17:34 AM
As we ride down a street a small, clapped-out old Lada pulls alongside us. Like so many cars in this part of Russia it is a right-hand drive. The driver winds down the window and a huge fug of smoke rolls out. A hand appears with a cigarette clenched between the fingers.
The driver shouts something at us.
"What did he say?" I ask Shirl.
"It sounded like clubhouse - follow me."
And so I do. The Lada weaves its way down narrow side streets, past a school and small houses until it stops outside a simple, wooden building that looks a little like an American barn. On the wall above the double doors is a stylised image of a motorcyclist.
We have arrived at the Mogocha Iron Angels clubhouse.
The driver of the car and his passenger leap out and wrench open the double doors and signal that I should ride the bike inside. The ramp is reasonably steep, but it is sealed so I gun the engine and ride up.
The Long Way To Vladivostok  Shirley Hardy-Rix  pp281-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 06, 2017, 04:14:18 PM
The ride from Paris towards Switzerland is the first day of covering distance with a 350 mile journey into a grey wall of rain and wind. For hour after hour we're blasted sideways as the temporary shelter provided by juggernauts is gone as we pass into the space in front, only for the bike to be picked up and launched sideways again, the conditions sapping our strength.
Petrol stops come and go in our well-established routines of 'how to handle Cathy being blind'. Our routine consists of the bike stopping at a pump as Bernard gives directions and describes the surroundings. Standing up on the bike's pedals, I swing my leg over the seat to step off the bike before waiting for Bernard to direct me towards the safest place. Usually this involves following the bike backwards to the large aluminium back box. All the time he watches as people around me do not realise my blindness as cars come and go inches away from me. Only at this point, when he is sure I am safe, does he climb off himself.
Listening, the sound pattern builds into recognisable sequences with their familiarity. Each small thing becomes numerous facets which a blind person separates to create understanding, to give meaning to events. Thus, the side stand clicks down; the bike tilts left to take the weight; he climbs off himself; shifting upwards, the bike slowly comes back towards me as a 350 kg bike is pulled onto the centre stand. A simple thing. Click, tilt, rustle, movement, movement, clunk. After two such stops in a day of cold rain we have had enough and Bernard is starting to go quiet on me, unlike virtually the whole of the day.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  pp9-10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 07, 2017, 08:58:11 AM
The bike hums softly through the foot pegs all day as I start to tune into the feel of the thousands of mechanical bits and pieces whirling around, and down, round and round. Creating their own symphony, I am aware of their distinctiveness against the backdrop of the tyres going over different road surfaces as 180-degree bends through Swiss mountains fill the early hours. Mad German-plated bikes flash past diving past us around corners in a wall of noise as they accelerate hard before braking at the last minute. Their rush to pass the inconvenience of cars and trucks blocking their path contrasts with our thumping along gently, separated from their urgency, from their madness in many ways.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 08, 2017, 10:27:52 AM
The long cane is duly popped with its distinctive 'click, click, click, click' and I start to walk towards the office with Bernard. Within seconds the sound of "No, No, just you!" comes as he is forcibly stopped by a hand in his chest. Guiding me back to the bike, Bernard places my hand on the back box before telling me of the queue, of how he'll be able to see me the whole time. The funny thing is I do not worry, as he does, about being alone. I'm at an international border crossing; what could possibly happen? Still reluctant to leave me, a plainclothes official indicates he will stay as he waves Bernard off to do the paperwork. With a final "I can see you the whole time," my companion disappears.
Within seconds, a voice beside me asks, "You England?" I turn towards it, confirming this. A soft whistle replies, "Have come long way." Approaching me very gently, he takes my hand and places it on the back box before, "Must go, stay here, safe for you here." I smile and thank him to the sounds of his disappearing footsteps as I know this simple action meant he had some awareness of being blind in an open space. Perhaps he had simply mimicked Bernard's behaviour of earlier on? Thus, he'd given me a physical object with which to locate myself. It showed how people can be so very gentle, demonstrated so many times during our border crossings so far. No matter where we've been, it always seems to be true.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p24
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 09, 2017, 09:33:15 AM
Istanbul is 1,200 km away and it dawns on me this single figure, this distance, my knowledge of it, all now measure how far I've travelled, mentally, physically and emotionally. 1,200 km? It used to sound so, so, far away. But it's not so far anymore. From the tip of my home country to the furthest point southwards? It's not far. Not really. Realising how the days are long gone when distance seemed to matter, when it was counted by hours instead of days, or countries, now the word 'only' creeps in. It's only 1,200 km. It will take us 'only' three days. Only. Worlds change. Perceptions accept new meanings of time, scale and distance. The bike feels like home the instant I'm on it. Everything is comfortable familiar, secure in all ways and even the traffic is light for some reason and we have no problem finding the dual carriageway system leading out of Athens.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 10, 2017, 09:36:40 AM
Bernard - It's the scariest car drive I have ever had with the van hurtling along the dual carriageway like an Exocet missile as the driver floors the accelerator at every opportunity. No matter what was in front - cars, buses, lorries, grannies crossing the road - this man was on a mission. He is going to complete it no matter what, even if he kills us. People leap out of the way as he aimed for every gap he could see.
All the time Turkish music is blasting from the stereo and he grins enthusiastically (maniacally?) at me, honking and beeping everything out of his way. He actually passed an ambulance at one point, hammering along with its siren wailing and I was never so relieved to get out of any car in my life. When we reach the bike shop I smoke three cigarettes before anyone can get any sense from me. The same was true when I forced myself back into the car for the trip back. I feigned sleep for part of the way. I just couldn't watch anymore.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p49
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 11, 2017, 09:51:02 AM
Things get worse when it becomes apparent that English is the interviewer's 39th language rather than their second. As the cameras roll on like a Monty Python sketch, people wrongly interpret each others' answers but their English is better than Bernard's Urdu.
"So how do you ride the bike, Katie?"
"My name is Cathy and I do not ride the bike, Bernard is the driver."
"But Katie it is hard for you to see the road yes?"
"I can't see the road, my eyes do not function at all. Bernard rides the bike."
"Goodness me, but how do you drive the bike if you cannot see the road?"
"Bernard sees the road and rides the bike."
"So he tells you which way to go? It must be very hard?"
"Incredibly hard yes, but I manage."
I know all of the questions are being directed at Bernard by the direction of the voice shifting and it is a relief when it finishes. "Bring back the BBC World Service," Bernard mutters on reaching our room. For the rest of the day my name becomes Katie as he shouts, "Watch the pothole" or "Cliff on the right" while he dodges shoes thrown at his moving voice. Sometimes I hate sighted people. The very least he could do was stand still.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p73
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 13, 2017, 08:41:44 PM
Our eventual destination of Lahore is too big a jump for one day at nearly 480 km so the decision is made to make the short 100 km ride to Multan to have a rest day. The escorts hand us over to other vehicles waiting patiently at deserted lonely areas and our speed varies widely. One escort driver crawls along at less than 30 kph before the handover passes us to Michael Schumacher who wants to find out how fast Bertha goes on a good section of road. He gives up at 120 kph as his engine starts to bellow black smoke. Realising the unequal struggle, no doubt he watches Bernard in his wing mirrors nonchalantly smoking cigarettes. The guards in the back of the truck egg Bernard on with waves, saying "Yes, yes, faster." As Bernard smokes cigarettes and drinks from the bottle of water they turn to their driver, saying, "Give it up, the boss will kill us if we wreck the truck."
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p84
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 14, 2017, 03:10:15 PM
The two-day journey to Delhi is our first real experience of driving in India and it is to shape our experience of the country in many ways as the standard of driving was truly appalling. Actually, 'driving' is another loose term, much like the term 'road'. Pulling in for petrol Bernard asks an attendant "On which side of the road do you drive in India?"
"On the left," he innocently answers. It leaves Bernard shaking his head for some time before asking, "Are you sure?"
As we make slow progress, cars and trucks pass on the inside, the outside, on the gravel verge, often resulting in hundreds of sharp little missiles being launched at us. Bertha sounds like she's being machine-gunned as they clatter against every surface. The air is full of the constant honking of horns. People force the bike across the road as they pass and then immediately pull in, leaving Bernard with little choice but to brake, hard, otherwise they will take the front wheel with them. Trucks and buses come straight at us on the wrong side, expecting Bertha to go off-road into the deep sand lining the edges.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  pp99-100
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 15, 2017, 09:39:32 AM
Bernard: "You remember I told you my wife will kill you today if we still have no hot water?"
Manager: "Sir?"
Bernard: "Have you settled your affairs and made your will?"
Manager: "You want hot shower sir, I turn boiler on."
Bernard: "No, no, you can turn boiler on, but no hot water comes."
Manager: "Hot in five minutes."
Bernard: "It might be hot, but not in our room."
Manager: "Maybe ten minutes sir, you want me to turn boiler on?"
Bernard: "You do not understand!"
Manager: "Understand sir, want shower, I turn boiler on. You have cigarette and water will be hot."
Bernard: "It will not be hot!"
Manager: "Yes yes. Very hot."
Bernard: Bangs head on desk in true Fawlty Towers fashion much to the alarm of manager and staff.
Manager: "So sir, you are saying water will not be hot?"
Bernard: (lifting head off desk) "Praise the Lord, you understand!"
Manager: "I will turn boiler on for you."
And so it goes on.
In the end, as I wait patiently, the staff deliver a very big bucket of hot to the room with enormous smiles.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  pp112-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Jdbiker on August 15, 2017, 10:27:59 AM
Very typical  of some smaller hotels in India  :grin, although nothing wrong with a bucket of hot water and a mug🤓
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 16, 2017, 09:44:26 AM
How Bernard feels I can only imagine but I hate it. I absolutely hate it. It is is the most frightening thing I have ever encountered as every second, for hours and hours on end, my mind streams crashing pictures of wagons hitting Bertha and then running over us. Every bang means we are coming off. Constantly bracing myself for the next shock or impact, my head, neck, even my ears hurt from the obsessive horn blowing inches away from us. I am truly frightened and willing it to all end. As bad as I feel I know it has to be horrendous to manage the bike under these inch-perfect conditions with wagons bouncing all around us. Bernard cannot speak and all I can do is imagine. I don't like what I am imagining. Wanting to shout "Stop the bike, stop the bike, let me off!" I keep quiet. I know if stopping was possible he would do it. Gladly. All we can do is endure.
Bernard tries to lighten our experiences at one point as we crash through the potholes asking, "Have you still got the fillings in your teeth?" Retribution is a wonderful thing as a few kilometres down the road a bridge on his teeth falls out; sometimes he really should not tempt fate. Now when he smiles two broken teeth show a gap for the world to see what the road to Gorakhpur did to him as we arrive in the city destroyed; emotionally, physically and psychologically.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p119
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 17, 2017, 10:40:38 AM
(In Nepal) Ploughing through miles and miles of jammed roads once the troops wave farewell, the route involves walking-pace riding until we arrive in the pitch-black city as we (again) break Rule 1 (Don't ride in the dark) and Rule 2 (avoid pulling into a strange city under cover of darkness). As always, our tried and trusted 'Plan A' comes into action. And so we stop at a taxi rank and hand over the address of a reasonably priced guest house (the Holy Himalaya).
The taxi driver leads us through the completely blacked-out city where no streetlights brighten the way before arriving at a hotel of vaguely similar name (the Hotel Himalaya). It is four times the price we expected and the colour drains from Bernard's face. Settling into his usual humour and outrageously funny counteroffers ("I'll wash the dishes and clean the floors") he drives it down to a price that would pay to restore half the city's electricity. Since it's been weeks since we've ridden for so long, we cave in at half-price to take the room. At least it offers a base close to the airport and shipping agent.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  pp140-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 18, 2017, 10:28:34 AM
My possiible naivety reminds me of the case of a person called Sydney Bradford. Sydney had his sight restored after 50 years or so of vague shifting images bordering on total blindness. When his eyes opened the world turned out to be very different than he'd expected, tragically so in many ways.
Born in 1906, from 1915 he spent his youth in the Birmingham School for the Blind in England, eventually leaving in 1923. In 1959, after about 50 years of nearly total blindness, his world was transformed by a corneal operation, resulting in a world full of frightening fast moving objects and people. From a cheerful and extroverted outgoing person he slipped into a drab and boring world, full of decay, violence and insecurity. Depression soon followed as his daily experiences became full of fear, changing in hundreds of little ways from the person who confidently crossed road in his blindness to a frightened, indecisive individual. His confidence deserted him and he lost the sense of peace in himself, ultimately leading him to commit suicide in 1960. His story is sad, in many ways, as prior to his sight being restored, he pursued life with a great deal of confidence and energy and his experience of 'seeing' left him with a huge sense of disappointment.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p150
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 19, 2017, 07:42:12 AM
Her husband (a police officer) presses for information, listening as we try to describe what it is like to be a Westerner riding a large bike in India. It is apparent he is not happy with what he is hearing, dismissing Bernard's account with "But surely if you ride defensively, it can't be that bad?"
Bernard understands his wish to ride a bike through India; he too felt it through most of his life as he tries to point out the difference between 'defensive riding' and riding in India. In the end it proves impossible, much as we thought at the outset. Even telling him of the five UK bikes in the country at the same time, of the three riders who survived unscathed would never do it again, nothing seems to dent his view. Hearing of how one rider went home in a body bag and another in an air ambulance still does not change his idea of what is involved. Confidently he maintains staying safe will be through good 'defensive riding' and 'good anticipation'.
Bernard lets the comments wash over him, not feeling the need to respond to the implied criticism of his riding style, of his 'weakness' or 'poor anticipatory skills'. I know he has nothing to prove. There is no macho, masculine, bike-riding ego to be defended about surviving each day as whenever anybody asks him about our own survival he reduces it down to pure luck rather than any inherent riding skill.
"We were just lucky, nothing more," he always answers.
I doubt it myself, I really do. I know. I was there.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p176
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 20, 2017, 01:22:04 PM
Glen climbs into his cab with promises to follow for a while to make sure everything is fine as we rejoin the '90 Mile Straight' (now the '45 mile Straight') with the big chrome truck filling our wing mirrors. The bike tilts when Bernard checks the repair and it holds fast across the kilometres and with one last honk Glen waves farewell and then he is gone.
When things like this happen, I'm often reminded of a saying that the interruptions are the journey and it really is all about the people you meet, such as Glen. It's not about the distance you cover each day. It's not the country you are in. It's not even about the motorcycle. While it's true that a bike can act as a distinctive 'calling card' in its reflection of people's dreams, a journey is, and always will be, about the people whose path you cross. The indelible marks that never fade away and each one has a name and a voice sprinkled through your memory. Glen now inhabits one of them for me.
Later in the afternoon we reach Caiguna and call it a day.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  pp181-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 21, 2017, 09:25:59 AM
Continuing on a roller-coaster ride to climb the 1565 metre heights, Bernard describes the ski lifts and lodges, the shops with signs declaring 'Snow Board Hire' or 'Snow Chains for Sale'. It's so unlike anything we expected in our naivety about the vastness of this land.
Stopping for the evening in two cabins Al tells of his time in Mogadishu during the American operation 'Restore Hope' or 'The Invasion' as the Somali people called it; of the wet kitchens set up by a local woman around the city to distribute food in an effort to stop it being stolen by the warlords.
As the evening passes he tells how many of the bikers had felt humbled by the two of us, the way we deal with each other. It seems there were conversations concerning our battered dust-covered bike sitting among the 'bling, bling' of new machinery, of our 'lived in' dashboard which needs only a set of net curtains to add a finishing touch. We laugh at the image and understand the sentiment. It truly is our home now.
The next morning our roads are set for different directions and Bernard tells me of Al becoming 'misty', the look men get sometimes and, after a hug, he is quickly gone. Pulling out of the site we wave to one of those special people whose lives we cross briefly, a stranger who feels like a friend despite knowing so little about them.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p192
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 22, 2017, 08:40:28 AM
A black Labrador dog bounds over, reminding me of my own dog so far away. Bernard helpfully looks up the Spanish for 'sit', 'stay' and 'down' while his front paws end up on my thighs, searching for my hands, begging me to keep up their attention.
At a tiny local cafe Bernard frantically searches phrase books to translate the menu but fails miserably as so many words are missing. Muddling through, we end up with huge steak and cheese sandwiches, and the most enormous bottle of beer Bernard has ever held. As I listen to him struggling to work out the menu I suddenly realise that I no longer feel frustrated by his inability to translate and give me choices. I've grown beyond it and now recognise how it only increases his own frustration. Becoming more like him, I now eat whatever is on the plate as I've become something, someone, different after so many experiences. Forever out of my comfort zone of predictability, which needed precision and organised experiences, I now settle into whatever comes my way, without fuss, without the flashes of irritability which so marred the earlier times. I am better for it, of this I have no doubt.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p207
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 23, 2017, 09:09:25 AM
"You will need to always remember it is only you who have changed and people will never understand this. It will cause you problems," Jaime adds, summarising his thoughts.
In our absence, they go on to explain, everybody else will have gone on with their daily lives in the same way as when we were there but no longer will it be possible to share the same reference points, the same ideas over what is important. Everything is altered by what has been experienced and perhaps it's never really possible to return to what you were. Fundamentally changed, altered, and honed into something different, your priorities are different, and that difference will be forever out of reach to the people around you so they can never truly understand it. Thus, in many ways, we both gain and lose by travelling the world. The gain involves everything experienced while the loss is the tranquillity of normality within which everybody we know will still be operating.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p214
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 24, 2017, 09:24:29 AM
The weather eases a little and people appear, including two female members of the road crew who direct the traffic with Stop/Go paddles like big table tennis bats. They stand looking looking at the bike, asking questions, and this prompts the young daughter of the hill women to shyly wander over to look at the bike. One ot the paddle bearers (Gwen) translates Bernard's question to the little girl, asking if she would like to sit on Bertha. Looking to her mother for affirmation it is given. So it is that a little 9 year-old Peruvian girl called Samikai sits on a bike made 11 years before she was born, in a country on the other side of the world. Life can be wonderfully magical sometimes as her mum relents about a photograph of the event and then views it with delight. It is a shame we cannot give her a copy.
In many ways, it's a different world despite many Western people claiming 'There is only one world'. There is not one world at all. There are many. It is divided up by so many factors including disability, religion, caste, class, language, culture, and a whole host of other factors. Each shouts uniqueness and, for me, long live the differences between its peoples.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  pp242-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 25, 2017, 10:09:46 AM
Morning comes with Bernard lamenting the dartboard painted on his back, so covered in lumps is he as we find out, the hard way, that Tumbes is renowned for the density of its mosquito population. Last night they fed on white meat. As the sun rises, our room soon turns into an oven and the overhead fan circulates the hot air lazily as the sun burns fiercely bright.
Bernard readies himself to work under its glare with tubes of (now) depressurised sun cream being brought out. I sit under our umbrella as clink of metal on metal signifies Bertha's restoration back into one piece. Some time later the starter is pressed; sounds of clicking and whizzing precede a huge sigh, telling me it has to be taken apart again. The motor is not turning the engine over and there is little else to be done but dismantle the whole thing again. Each part is methodically tested before deciding a new starter motor is needed, meaning more delays in the wait for it to arrive from England. The news leaves us completely deflated and fed up, this being the fifth breakdown.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  pp249-50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 26, 2017, 10:38:37 PM
Climbing the 3,200 metre vertical helter-skelter, barely 6 km is covered in an hour as Bertha moves at little more than walking pace in first and second gear. The camber of the road is difficult, tilting alarmingly. Wagons coming down give off their overpowering smell of burning brakes; four hours pass travelling this way. Through 180-degree, steep, steep corners ever upwards we make our way to the sound of our own engine growling with a slipping clutch to keep us moving forward. During the climb the sky turns black as we ride ever upwards with coldness descending to the smell of burning clutches and brakes, which permeates everything around us. Even Bertha struggles, with first gear too low, and second too high, so her clutch slips in second to compensate. To stop forward motion is to slide backwards as the front wheel slips several times when she is forced to stop. It leaves Bernard straining to find a foothold to support the bike as the road cants crazily sideways leaving one leg in the air. Time after time Bertha's front wheel slips backwards and reaching the top is a joy but not even a prized photograph is taken of the spectacular view as the road is just too narrow, too dangerous to stop on.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p271
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 27, 2017, 01:19:12 PM
Holding our breath for at least three bus lengths every 100 yards, the road signs hold good, guiding us through Guatamala City, and the traffic is more orderly than the usual jungle survival of the fittest. The three-laned CA-1 leads us out the other side and up into the hills through intermittent roadworks, slowing our progress dramatically as the tarmac disappears to become hard-packed dirt, loose soil or gravel.
Road teams are everywhere flattening the soil, laying concrete or even, heaven forbid, spreading tarmac. Slithering and sliding, the back of the bike skews sideways as forward progress is made with revs and slipping clutch to keep the bike moving. Sharp twitches of the back remind us how the distance between our soft delicate bodies and the hard surface may be shortened at any second. Coming through several such sets of thoughts we emerge unscathed to start breathing again.
Continuing to climb, the temperature starts to drop after crossing 3000 metres (10,000 feet) up through the clouds before hurtling down the other side with Bertha's side-stand scraping loudly on left hand corners. The recent rise in side-stand scraping seems to have occurred after I promise Bernard a day off riding once we reach Mexico. Since then the same sound can often be heard, and felt - scrape. Scrape, scrape.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p302
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 28, 2017, 09:11:15 AM
Considering we left Tumbes in Peru only 3 weeks ago things have not gone too badly. Despite crossing several mountains and distant planets, arranging an air freight, doing some serious hill climbing in Colombia, we are still in piece; not bad for two oldies. Actually make this three oldies as Bertha has to be counted as well, although she loudly resists that fact (is that the gearbox again?) with all she has done so far. In my own head she goes on to proclaim: "Actually these roads are not what I was built for you know. I was made to sit sedately doing 100-120 kph, all day and every day. I am a mileage eater. Never did I think you would take me through Pakistan and India (I nearly ate my air filters in them). As I bounced through Nepal, Peru, Ecuador or El Salvador I kept reminding myself that you were both just daft. I was made to destroy German autobahns Mein Fuhrer, to conquer British motorways - when they are not closed for roadworks."
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  pp310-11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 29, 2017, 09:18:44 AM
We've all read about people doing such things and they become something different in the telling of the story, something unique or exceptional. In reality, they too are just like us. Frightened, hungry, cold, wet, insecure, happy, sad, they continue to push their way through what they've set themselves in the best way they can. Like all these people Bernard had read about across his entire life, now he has his own answer to that question. Never again does he have to wonder about the answer. It's my own belief that only a very small number of people would have ever contemplated this venture with a blind woman. Many people did question his sanity for taking me on such a journey and their thoughts simply left him shrugging his own shoulders when he phrased his own question to them, "Well, why not?"
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p336
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 31, 2017, 01:49:11 PM
Over the miles we were to become two people blended into one, in thought, emotion and even written words. Even as he stressed and worried about being able to fix the bike or ride the roads encountered, never once did any thought cross my mind other than 'confidence'. It is a rare state of mind indeed given everything encountered. In all our time spent together 24 hours a day for a year, the greatest compliment I can remember is how people noticed we liked each other. And more. Much more. Bernard has always said that liking somebody is not the same as loving them as you can love without liking and you can like without loving. We are truly fortunate in that we have both sides of the coin. A year on the road has reinforced these thoughts even further.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  p337
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 01, 2017, 06:37:58 PM
Our friend Bertha is battered and misbehaving although intact as we wing eastwards on the seven-hour flight. Over the miles only once did we fall off, thankfully without any injuries. I have stood among the clouds at (nearly) 15,000 feet, struggling to breathe and shivering in the snow, before gasping in the heat of the lowlands. Enduring each and every day with humour, roads that were made of gravel, rock and tarmac, sometimes all at the same time. We survived. Clattering and rattling across landscapes for which Bertha was never built, objects were dodged be they cattle, kangaroos, chasing dog or trees which had fallen and blocked our way. We've encountered routes blocked due to protests, turmoil and political instabilities the likes of which we'd never before experienced. It's small wonder that many people try to come to our own homeland when you understand how they struggle with daily life. While existence is undoubtedly hard in some countries we passed through, it is also a fact that within the poorest we often found the greatest welcome. It seems to be a universal truth.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  pp337-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 02, 2017, 04:07:04 PM
Bernard
In my own 'ordinariness', the story stretches back across the years to a night on a motorway in England. Wet through and riding a misfiring Norton 850, the sight of a service station and cup of coffee had cheered me up. The heavens had poured water out of the sky for hours and I was cold and very, very, wet in the days before Gore-Tex, heated handlebars and all such things.
Putting off going back out into Noah's domain in case I tripped over the animals, I had squelched into the shop to pass more time and there had stumbled on a book. Many of you may, or may not, know of it. It was Jupiter's Travels, written by Ted Simon. The year was 1980 and I was 24 years old. Ted wrote about something he had done, the same thing I had been thinking about for six years.
He rode the worid.
Sitting down with another cup of coffee, I opened the first page and my life was to change forever.
Touching The World  Cathy Birchall  pp341-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 03, 2017, 01:15:40 PM
Still, with the youngest traditional bike by then 30 years old, and a wealth of more practical machinery available from elsewhere, why was I still pursuing the Impossible (Brit bike) Dream? It was not quite patriotism (we were all caustic about Sixties' build quality, worn-out production machinery etc), and not quite nostalgia (although a big component was that the familiar, simple and strong Brits in some circumstances contrasted well with the unduly complex, though much more reliable, rice-burners). In the end it got down to quasi-religion: that for some of us, the Brits were just the Righteous Path. And for a writer, a trip on one certainly made for a better story.
Back on the Island, the one thing that Gary Brown, Ginty and his pal Alan Obst all insisted on was that doing the African trip on one's own would be unwise in the extreme. So the next steps were to select a mount then find a companion.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p29
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 04, 2017, 12:33:32 PM
The laden bike (a 1954 Ariel) was fine as I remembered to relax, grasp the bars only lightly, anticipate to avoid braking, and take the bends in slow swooping curves, with great, attentive pleasure. I thought the vibes were not so bad, but they were there, as my right hand eventually began to get sore. We passed a couple of seaside places, but there were no roadside halts, you had to drive into the little towns with their pastel-shaded houses and seek them out, wasting time. Then we cut away from the sea. I had told myself to stop every 50 miles and we had done more than that already, with the bike perhaps feeling a little unhappy on the long straights. I certainly was. On those straights I began getting a first inkling of the scale of the journey and started to wonder if I could do this. All right, it was after 1 o'clock, I needed food and my diabetic pills - but was I or the bike going to be robust enough? That morning was truly a roller-coaster ride, from the anxiety of getting out of Cape Town, to the exhilaration of the switch-back coast road, to the first daunting insights after that.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p80
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 05, 2017, 09:45:06 AM
Another two BMWs pulled in. The Bavarian machines were definitely the weapon of choice hereabouts. The second most frequent question I would be asked was, "Why aren't you doing it on a BMW?" The superficial riposte was to point out that Ewan and Charley's BMW sub-frames had fractured both on their West-East trip and on the first day off-road in Africa. The real reason, the path of righteousness, was harder to explain, even to myself, though I had once owned a BMW R100CS airhead twin, but couldn't get on with its handling. These BMW arrivals were a pleasant couple on a twin, and a bulky bald Boer on an F650 single, friendly but uncommunicative as Afrikaans was his main language. They were from Pretoria, and gave me their card, asking me to stay on my way north.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p86
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on September 05, 2017, 07:16:02 PM
 :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 06, 2017, 07:33:55 PM
I pushed on north. I had filled up, topped up the oil and checked the bike over after lunch, noticing it was giving too much oil from the cylinder head and tightening down there: some had reached the rear tyre, which you don't want. Later, accelerating from a stop, the speedo needle suddenly bounced round to 120mph, then settled back again. After the stop I had wiped petrol from the top of the tank; it was back again when I next stopped - was this a split in the tank? If so, the Ariel boys had recommended sealing it by rubbing soap in, and I had a bit ready in the tank bag. But luckily it was just imperfect sealing from the petrol cap, again.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  pp162
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 07, 2017, 09:12:35 AM
Early in the afternoon, I reached my intended stop of Aliwal North, where a metal bridge takes you into the Orange Free State, but I didn't like the look of the place so I pushed on the 40-odd miles to Rouxville and Zastron. One thing I had noticed all day was how good (and traffic-free) the roads were. Along the way there were maintenance crews, litter pickers, verge cutters, a couple of roadworks. Now, beyond Rouxville, there were signs warning of pot-holes, but these had usually been temporarily filled in with yellow dirt and rubble, which at least made them easily visible, and avoidable by a bike. Overall they were nothing compared to the state of the roads in Oxfordshire.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p163
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 08, 2017, 09:40:47 AM
When I came out, a ragged boy trying to sell me oranges said seriously that the Ariel was beautiful. But Jerry, ever-wilful, had not been starting as reliably as usual (the change of altitude?) and now, with our admirer plus four of his mates and a large guy in the next car watching, several kicks brought forth nothing, and some of them had lacked compression - that pesky valve lifter again, I hoped.
The crowd grew. The large guy, and a security man, kindly offered a push, but curiously I was sure that this felt like just a temporary glitch, and kicked on. There was now someone giving a running commentary. This should have been Embarrassment Hell, but somehow it didn't get to me. When the bike finally fired up I gave a (one-handed) et voila gesture and roared off with as much style as I could muster.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p172
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 09, 2017, 05:24:24 PM
The road was monotonous, but then began to be fringed by the forest of the National Parks, though the only animals I had to keep an eye out for at first were goats and donkeys on the road. It was warm, and the bike wasn't sounding quite right. I told myself off for paranoia, and though I knew I should stop, droned on intending to do it in one hit. And then it happened - the engine note deepened, and with an audible metallic rattle, the engine died.
Words cannot describe... with 3,165 miles on the clock, I only had 25 more to do to get to Zambia. I was so near! I had no back-up plan for Botswana, bar the number of one biking lady who lived outside Gabarone, at the other end of the country.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p185
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 10, 2017, 12:17:55 PM
Ginty was a short, thickset 69-year-old. His wrinkled, sun-darkened face had a cluster of tiny warts round one eye, and a discoloured patch. His hair was unfeasibly bright for his age, and from time to time over the next few days I'd look at it and speculate, until we later had a haircut together at the Intercontinental Hotel and seeing it shampooed convinced me the colour was all his own. That day, after a 120-mile ride out to greet me, he was instantly friendly, but impatient. He had already been bitten on the boot by a blue heeler dog, and slipped on a mat on a veranda, bruising his knees and badly grazing his right hand, which would give him grief the following week as he took the spanners to Jerry. He claimed to be slowing down. He still had three or four British bikes, but had sold his Norton twin cafe racers after a series of get-offs - in favour of the 600 Ducati. We set off down the track. I was still new at dirt roads, though I would find that well-graded ones held few terrors. I was leading, and mercifully doing OK, when the red Monster twin, which was hardly a trail bike, came by and disappeared ahead, with Ginty riding smoothly and as fast as on tarmac.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  pp197-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 11, 2017, 09:08:45 AM
I tried a bump start downhill. No dice. The engine just chuffed without a hint of ignition, and something hit my leg as it fell off. I stopped, walked back and found it, a 4-inch long cylinder of metal with a threaded end. Looking at the engine I realised it was the whole shaft for the inlet rockers. This was a disaster, but I tried to stay calm and, surprisingly enough, succeeded. I wondered about re-inserting the shaft. At first I tried from the wrong side, the off-side, even trying to tap it in with a spanner. I realised my mistake and slipped it in from the near-side, wiggling it to get past an obstacle, and then tightened the threaded end until part of it protruded from the oil banjo on the off-side, where studying the other, exhaust rocker box, showed me that the nut to hold on the shaft had gone AWOL. I now had two problems: how to keep the shaft from unthreading and falling out again; and what to do about the oil feed, which was intended to lubricate the inlet rocker, but would now be discharging all over the bike.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p212
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 12, 2017, 09:33:01 AM
As I was applying it, a metallic dark blue Land Rover drove up, stopped, and out got my guardian angels, the Swiss couple, Daniella and Martin Haenz. With the "Angels" bit, I am not speaking entirely metaphorically. I had been the beneficiary of too much good luck to think it coincidental. The couple had taken a year off to tour Africa and, being Swiss, were carrying every conceivable mechanical aid, "and yes, we also have Swiss Army knives!" laughed Martin. They were very friendly, and Martin quickly began admiring the Ariel! Since I had applied the "putty" I suggested we ride on a bit to see if it worked and, kitting up after a reluctant start I roared off in spirited fashion, bend swinging on the curves of the mountain road. But four miles later there was oil everywhere. I stopped and so did the Swiss, with Martin saying I had been going so well through the bends that it had made him want to come back and do it on his BMW GS1100. Then he got out a tap and die set, carefully tapped a thread on the inside of the hollow oil-leaking orifice, and stoppered it with a suitable screw and PTFE tape. Amazing.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p216
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 13, 2017, 11:05:34 AM
I positioned the little box to catch the gearbox oil, undid the different length screws fastening on the outer casing and laid them in order on the rag, removed a nut so I could take off the gear lever indicator, then the kickstart which, when loosened off, whanged forward, so there was a spring involved. I worried briefly about the box's gasket, but the outer casing, though partly off, still wouldn't come all the way free. Meanwhile I had pushed the big screwdriver, which had a magnetic tip, down through the gap and probed about, hoping to pick up the threaded bit of screw. No luck, and I realised that it was the right-hand footrest that was stopping the outer casing coming off. The big adjustable spanner was too long to use in the available space, but the second largest one from the double-ended set did, with difficulty, enable me to get the footrest nut loose. But by then I had realised that the exhaust was going to have to come off as well, in order to get the footrest removed.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  pp257-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 14, 2017, 10:01:44 AM
I did not like the thought of that. So I levered the outer casing out as far as I could, hoping something would drop out of the bottom, although part of me by now had worked out that the threaded portion was likely to have dropped out into the gearbox proper, behind the outer wall of the inner case. Then, as the outer casing came a little further out, there was a sickening Boing! It was the sound and feel of springs unwinding and thrusting outwards, and that meant game over for me. I invoked a quote from W. C. Fields which I had been holding in reserve: "If at first you don't succeed, try, and try again. Then give up. There's no need to be a damn fool about it."
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p258
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 15, 2017, 09:35:44 AM
There were frequent roadside police checks, but I took my cue from Jimmy Young and rode on through, on one occasion doing the wave to a guy who was holding up his hand.
At the next one I came unstuck, as I hesitated a little too long behind a stationary bakkie full of Africans. A very tall, closely-shaven African officer, with a pistol on his belt and a sharp face beneath his peaked cap, stalked over and asked for something which I took some time to understand was my licence. I pulled over, stopped the engine, and extricated it. He asked what I was doing and I told him I was a tourist from Britain. What had I brought with me? I paraphrased Oscar Wilde and replied, "Nothing, just myself". I sketched out the journey and he snorted, gesturing at Jerry,
"You do all that on this thing?"
"Certainly."
"Aah, because you love cycling!"
"Exactly, yes!" On this note of mutual comprehension, we parted.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p283
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 16, 2017, 08:22:04 AM
By then I had half-convinced myself that I could have made a mistake, and that it might turn out to be valve seat trouble, and maybe remediable. So it was a shock when Mike returned shortly and confirmed decisively, even with slight satisfaction as his prediction was fulfilled, that it was the big end letting go. He lowered a screwdriver into the oil tank and showed me how clean and golden the oil still was, i.e. in nearly 1,000 miles it had not circulated properly round the engine. I was in shock because if he was right (and later Stewart Fergusson would confirm that the crank-pin was mis-aligned in the flywheel and its cutting off oil circulation had finally taken its toll), that was it, my journey was over.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p312
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on September 16, 2017, 08:26:27 AM
That bike sounds as tho it was a complete lemon!
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø Glimt on September 16, 2017, 02:00:31 PM
That bike sounds as tho it was a complete lemon!

You know what they say... if life gives you melons you're dyslexic.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 17, 2017, 09:02:54 AM
That bike sounds as tho it was a complete lemon!

It's an ancient bike designed to ride around town that had been poorly rebuilt.  Then asked to ride hundreds of kilometres through harsh conditions.  Wrong bike for the journey ridden with sheer pig-headedness.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 17, 2017, 09:04:33 AM
I love the speech of scholars, but in fact I rarely felt like a "twin soul" with the Ariel, which was mostly just a Bad Bike, end of story. Afterwards I did try to remember Jerry's strengths and his finest moments: riding fully loaded down into the muddy trench and onto the Zambezi ferry. Or the time on the Bad Road when we powered up out of the deep ditch. But then I would recall how Cycle World's Peter Egan, spot on as ever, had cautioned against complimenting a British bike, even mentally, on its reliability. "I swear," he had written, "an old bike can sense patronising approval. Especially if it's not backed up with the required hours of meticulous maintenance. Even a trace of sloppy sentiment turns the bike instantly into a lightning rod for trouble." Amen to that. Although it was hard not to  remember riding the road beneath the mountain ramparts of Lesotho, or through the forested slopes beyond Luangwa Bridge, those moments had been few and far between.
Short Way Up  Steve Wilson  p314
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 18, 2017, 02:02:21 PM
Then the first little hailstone hit my windshield and another hit my helmet. They were small, but they always start out that way. It wasn't long before they began to fall harder. There was plenty of lightning and thunder as well. 
The hail was beginning to hurt, even through my rainsuit. I pulled over to the side of the road, but there was no shoulder and I hate to be that close to the roadway during a storm. Oncoming traffic would probably not see me until the last minute. So I pulled off the road onto an area that had some hard, rocky ground and a few clumps of grass.
I turned off the engine and put the motorcycle on its stand. Then I knelt down beside it and ducked my head. This exposed my back to the storm, but I felt I had no other choice. The hail reached a size that I determined was between a nickel and quarter size. My back was taking a pounding, but I couldn't move.
Motorcycle Memoirs  Bob Allen  p41
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 19, 2017, 09:28:42 AM
Most of the roadside parks stay pretty busy, with travelers pulling into and out of them on a regular basis. On this occasion, I was the only person in the park when the Bandidos pulled in. Other travelers, seeing nothing but motorcycles in a roadside park, will pass it up for the next one. So I knew it was going to just be me and them in the park. I was hoping they were all in a good mood.
After they pulled in and we said our hellos, I thought maybe it was a good idea if I resumed my trip. As I approached my motorcycle so did they. I was suddenly surrounded by them and they didn't look friendly.
Motorcycle Memoirs  Bob Allen  pp71-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 20, 2017, 03:05:47 PM
Several of them made comments about people who would dare to ride a rice-burner. A couple of them made reference to some rider they had encountered in the past and how they had "taught him a lesson". By this time, some of them had cans of beer in their hands and were trying to drink it down in a hurry. A couple of them began to get a little too close for comfort. I thought of the 38 Special I had in my fairing and that if I needed it for self defense, I probably wouldn't be able to get to it before they got to me.
They were speaking in a derogatory manner and laughing and I found myself laughing with them, to ease the tension. Several cars slowed down and drove into the roadside park, but drove right back out again when they saw all the motorcycles. I finally mounted my motorcycle and started it up. Luckily, they parted and let me go and I rode out of the park, waving and wishing them a good trip. I breathed a sigh of relief as I rode. I thought that it probably could have been a lot worse.
Motorcycle Memoirs  Bob Allen  p72
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 21, 2017, 08:26:27 AM
In daylight, too, you know there is no point in regretting the past or worrying about the future, since worrying never does anything except make you worried. But logic does not live in the dark, and there is nothing quite so dreadful as lying in bed in the middle of the night, your nerves taut and icy sweat on your brow, listening to the dock tick away the hours yet not bearing to look at it.
Because if it says only three or four, a small part of you will be glad that you still have half a dozen hours left in which you are at least safe and warm, and no harm will come to you. And yet another part of you fears that for those hours, you will be lying as you are now, your mind racing with a thousand anxieties, until the clock strikes the rising hour and with a superhuman effort you get up like a dead man, dress and make your way to work with dread in your heart and a knot in the pit of your stomach.
The Road To Gobbler Knob  Geoff Hill  pp5-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 22, 2017, 09:22:03 AM
I opened my email to find a comforting message from a mate called Paul Wilson to say that was he just back from playing golf in the Himalayas before being chased off the course by furious monkeys.
"Just thought I'd wish you good luck for the trip. The Rough Guide to Travel Survival says if you get attacked by a guerrilla the best thing to do is go for the eyes or try and stick your finger up its bottom... Sorry, that was a gorilla I was thinking of. What it actually says is that to avoid kidnapping you should vary your routine, stay out of the local media, hire a bodyguard and get kidnap insurance. However, if you are kidnapped:
Take a deep breath and flex your muscles when being tied up. When you relax, you may be able to struggle free (and face the 1000km barefoot jungle hike to civilisation, alone).
The Road To Gobbler Knob  Geoff Hill  pp40-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 23, 2017, 09:26:08 AM
And apart from almost falling off several times through admiring my new Roof helmet in the mirror, I was enjoying the smooth powerful balance of the Triumph. Compared to the Enfield's single-cylinder engine, which sounded like a heartbeat, and the Harley's big V-twin, which was like two flatulent hippos making love underwater, the Triumph's triple sounded like a giant sewing machine, which was rather appropriate, since it would sew the thread of my destiny over the next three months. But, like all bikes, it had this glorious truth about it- it forced me to exist in the moment; the perfect endless moment of the wind rushing past, the road beneath my feet, the smell of the green woods and the sights all around of roadside milk churns waiting for collection and farmers making hay while the sun shone.
The Road To Gobbler Knob  Geoff Hill  p61
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 24, 2017, 03:30:31 PM
As we rode into the shade of roadside trees, it was like plunging into an icy pool from which we emerged, aglow with gratitude, into the sun again.
In a car, of course, you see the passing landscape through a glass darkly, but on a bike you feel everything, and are at one with that landscape: with the daisies and primroses nodding in the verge, with that little garden bright with primulas and petunias, with that stern young man trotting a horse through a lavender field, with that stork rising from the mirrored lake and, miracle of miracles, with that elderly couple waving from a passing car, who turned out to be the ones from Santiago we had met at breakfast the day before, hundreds of miles from here.
Mind you, they were not the only ones waving: car drivers were forever hooting, waving and giving thumbs-up signs as we rode along.
Possibly because of our astonishing charisma, of course, but more likely because, loaded up and riding north, we were symbols of those two great feelings of modern life. First, the sneaking suspicion that there must be more to it than sitting behind a desk to pay a mortgage.
And second, that longing to just pack up and go.
The Road To Gobbler Knob  Geoff Hill  pp71-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 25, 2017, 09:17:31 AM
I suddenly realised with a cold shock of horror that I was going a little too fast, then braked a little too late.
I may have hit gravel or a patch of slippery road, but the next thing I knew, I was bouncing down the road with my head banging rhythmically off the tarmac.
Thankfully, it was in a helmet, and the rest of me was still in my protective jacket and trousers, though Clifford had taken his off in the humid heat of late afternoon. If I had taken mine off, as I had been planning to the next time we stopped, if there had been a truck coming the other way, if the bike had landed on top of me or if there had been something in my path more solid than the ditch, my life would have ended there and then.
Even as it was, the damage, as I got groggily to my feet, was considerable: my left shoulder was in agony, and most of the skin had been stripped off my left elbow and forearm. On my right hand, the bones of my knuckles gleamed through the blood and bits of tattered flesh.
The Road To Gobblers Knob  Geoff Hill  p139
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 26, 2017, 10:47:55 AM
At noon the next day, we walked around the corner to the friendly neighbourhood X-ray clinic to see why my neck was still sore five days after the crash. He did my shoulder first, and the good news was that nothing was broken, but as he hung up the first plate of my neck, my heart missed a beat.
For there, right across the third vertebra down, was a definite line.
He looked at it, tutted and scratched his chin, then left the room. He had obviously gone to get a spinal injuries consultant, and my mind ran wild. I had a hairline fracture, but could go on carefully. Or I would have to get treatment here, but it could take weeks or months. Or we would have to fly home, leave the bikes and gear here, and continue the trip in the summer, or next year. Or I was destined to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair, or an iron lung. If they still had iron lungs.
All this in the couple of seconds before he came back in and said: "Funny mark on the plate that, isn't it? I'll do another one."
On the next one, of course, there was nothing.
The Road To Gobblers Knob  Geoff Hill  pp148-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 27, 2017, 04:04:42 PM
The only time it came close to falling, though, was at the hands of the English admiral Edward Vernon, who attacked it with 25,000 men, 2,000 cannon and 186 ships.
Facing him was one of the most remarkable heroes of any age: Bias De Lezo, who as a young officer in the Spanish navy had already lost his left leg, his right arm and his left eye in three separate battles. De Lezo had a mere 2,500 men, natives armed with bows and arrows, and so confident was Vernon of success that he had already minted victory medals. Feeling it ungallant to defeat only half a man, he had ordered the medals to be cast with all of De Lezo's bits reinstated.
Remarkably, Bias won the day, although at the cost of a fatal wound in his remaining leg, and today a statue of him stands, although only just, at the foot of the fortress of San Felipe, having cost the city an arm and a leg less than it might have done. It was, in retrospect, possibly a good thing that he died when he died, for had he continued in the same vein, he would almost certainly have died of old age and loneliness as a solitary ear.
The Road To Gobblers Knob  Geoff Hill  pp165-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 28, 2017, 08:28:13 PM
I was awakened at six by Clifford in the shower, singing "Gotta Get out of this Place" at the top of his voice.
It felt strange at first, getting back on the bikes, setting off and watching Tony's mileometer, which had lain dormant for so long, yawn, stretch and start counting the miles again. Half excited and half nervous, for the first few of those miles I became convinced that the bike would self-destruct or fall over without warning, or that the tyres would spontaneously explode, flinging me into the jungle to be impaled on the beak of a surprised parrot.
However, the only exciting thing that happened was that we were soaked by a tropical downpour, then dried by the equally tropical sun. And then, suddenly, it became glorious again: not only the feeling of fleeing Colon, but of being out on the bikes in the fresh air, and heading up the road again. Even if we were riding south for forty-three miles before heading in the right direction again.
The Road To Gobblers Knob  Geoff Hill  p199
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 29, 2017, 12:08:09 PM
At the next table, a birthday celebration was underway, and on a small stage, a mariachi band was playing Johnny Mathis's "When a Child is Born".
"Bit early for Christmas, isn't it?" I said to the waitress.
"No, late from last Christmas. This is Mexico," she said.
"God, she's lovely!" said Clifford, picking up his camera. "I think I feel another photo coming on for the book of Pan-American beauties."
That night, as we were settling down to sleep, there came a knock at the hotel room door. It was Isidro, the boy from the garage down the road where Clifford had asked in vain for a charger. He had cycled ten miles home after work, borrowed his father's, and cycled back with it in the dark. "I will collect it in the morning," he said. "Just leave it at reception."
It was just another of the countless acts of spontaneous goodwill we had been offered every day of the journey.
The Road To Gobblers Knob  Geoff Hill  p245
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 30, 2017, 12:39:04 PM
On my left as I lay there in the warm sun sat Tony, that fine motorcycle who had never let me down, the gouges along his left side evidence of what he had been through. In front of me stretched my boots, battered by the crash, baked by sun, covered in mud and drenched by rain, and trousers patched by a tailor in Cali. And on my right sat the tankbag, with the map of our route in the transparent pocket on top which had been a handy conversation point for South American traffic policemen, diverting them from their original intention of asking us for a bribe.
I looked at it, with the Pan-American Highway marked in red from southern Chile all the way up Peru, Ecuador, Colombia, Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Honduras, El Salvador, Guatemala, Mexico and the USA to where I sat at this moment in the sunshine of northern California, with the blue sky above, the sweet pines all around, a ladybird wandering over my knee and elk contemplatively chewing grass in the meadow there. Even on a map, which normally makes journeys look easier, what we had done seemed impossible, and it was not even over yet.
The Road To Gobblers Knob  Geoff Hill  p269
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 01, 2017, 06:35:14 PM
I led the way out of town, passing two bears and a wolf on the way. Fortunately, they were in fields at the side of the road.
Unlike the huge female moose who leaped out of the roadside trees right in front of me. It happened so fast that I didn't have time to swerve, just duck to the left as her head flashed by an inch from my helmet.
"You missed death by a millimetre, man. It wasn't even an inch," said Clifford when we stopped for fuel half an hour later. "If you'd hit that monster, both of you would have been killed. She braked so hard that she skidded onto her bum, then jumped up and leaped across to the other side of the road in a single bound, followed by a calf."
He was right, though: we'd read enough horror stories of hundreds of people in Canada every year being killed or maimed for life, hitting moose in cars. On a bike, you had no chance.
"Well, that's another life gone. That's two I've used up this trip," I said, going in to pay for the fuel and buy us a Magnum bar.
The Road To Gobblers Knob  Geoff Hill  pp292-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 02, 2017, 01:21:34 PM
I stopped the engine, got off the bike and stood there looking at the rutted gravel and mud road climbing into the mountains. Even from where I stood, I could see the impossible climbs and even more impossible descents, with sheer drops on either side. I had heard stories of hardened truckers setting off up this road, abandoning their trucks after a few miles, and walking back.
The part of me that wanted to get back on the bike and ride south to safety wrestled with the part of me that refused to be beaten by anything as I stood there, feeling sick with fear. But then I remembered all the times that I had felt sick with fear on the trip, and had carried on. And I remembered that courage is not the absence of fear, but action in the presence of fear.
I got back on the bike, took a deep breath, started the engine, and gave Tony a pat on the tank. "One mile at a time, chum," I said. "Every mile is another mile north."
It started bad, and got worse, but for some reason not quite clear to me now with the sane hindsight of calm reflection, I kept going.
The Road To Gobblers Knob  Geoff Hill  p305
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 03, 2017, 09:37:18 AM
The man with no neck drained his coffee, stood up to go on the night shift maintaining the pipeline, and noticed me.
"Say, you on that motorcycle out there, son?"
"Aye, that's me."
"Where'd you come from on that?"
"Chile."
He looked at me.
"Where's that at?"
"Oh, it's way south of here."
He paused.
"South of Vancouver?"
"Yeah, it's south of Vancouver all right."
"Hell, you've had quite a journey son." Satisfied, he went out, and I finished my chicken, staggered down the corridor, fell into bed and was asleep before my head hit my thoughts coming the other way.
The Road To Gobblers Knob  Geoff Hill  pp306-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: perthcarpetcleaner on October 03, 2017, 03:58:48 PM
Have you ever noticed?    Anybody going slower than you is an idiot, and anyone going faster than you is a maniac!
Never a truer word spoken
hahahah

Sent from my SM-G955F using Tapatalk

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: CallMeSteve on October 03, 2017, 05:02:21 PM
and since I started riding my white ST1300 the world has suddenly become full of idiots  :p
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 04, 2017, 06:47:05 PM
As we descended through the roseate dusk on our return flight, the Captain came on the blower. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Delhi. The temperature is 42 degrees," he said. "Now, that's an oxymoron if ever I heard one."
I.R. Dhillon drove us through the night back to our hotel, and we finally fell into our beds at 1.20 a.m. We had not slept for over forty hours, yet, insanely, Patrick took out his new shortwave radio and started learning how to work it, and I began to write down everything that had happened during the day.
The next morning the front page lead headline of the Times of India thundered: 'Petrol Price Raised Sharply', and below it the line, 'Not enough for a kick start'. Thankfully, closer inspection revealed the latter referred to the economy, not Royal Enfields, so we breakfasted on coffee and omelettes and set off in a rickshaw in the direction of Nanna's motorcycle yard.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  p34
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 05, 2017, 09:42:33 AM
"I think our hopes of leaving at dawn are fading fast," said Patrick, as Dilip went off to get the first round.
"Why on earth do you want to leave at dawn?" said Nanna, twisting around from the driving seat.
"To miss the heat and the trucks," said Patrick.
"And because it sounds good," I said.
"No, no, the truck drivers sleep all night and start at eight," said Nanna. "The best time to leave is at 1 a.m."
I looked at my watch. It was five minutes to midnight.
"Here's the beer," said Dilip, arriving back with four litre bottles of Kingfisher. "When are you chaps actually leaving?"
"I told them to start at one," said Nanna.
"No, no!" said Dilip. "It's far too dangerous to drive at night, because everyone drives with their lights off to save the bulbs. Also, the truck drivers never drive in the heat of the day. Best time to leave is at nine."
Several hours and beers later, when we finally did crawl into bed, we decided we would just leave when we woke up.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  p39
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 06, 2017, 12:14:31 PM
Beside the track for a deal of the journey lay the infamous Quetta to Koh-i-Taftan road, which we had discussed for so long, and which all the guidebooks had said not to travel on except as part of an armed convoy. But it seemed innocuous enough, with a teenager cycling whimsically along it, looking as if being kidnapped by bandits was the last thing on his mind.
In fact, the greater dangers lay inside our compartment. As darkness fell, Patrick, after successfully hot-wiring the ceiling fan into life using the two live flexes dangling from the wall, took to the flimsy bunk above, leaving me worrying that he would crash down on me during the night and end the trip, not kidnapped by bandits, but crushed by a falling Franco-Belgian motorcycle mechanic.
"And bloody good electrician," he muttered from above.
However, hubris is a terrible thing, and five minutes later the lights went out and the fan ground to a halt, leaving us in darkness with only the desert moon to guide the train through the night. Oh, and the railway tracks, of course.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  pp63-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 07, 2017, 09:57:23 AM
Unfortunately, after about five miles, we discovered just how low we were on fuel by conking out simultaneously.
"Well" I said, as Patrick pushed his Enfield alongside, "it's almost dark, we're in the middle of the desert, we've been thrown out of the country and we've run out of fuel!"
"At least things can't get any worse," he replied, as from the nearest dune came two swarthy Pashtuns armed to the teeth and with bandoliers crossed over their not insubstantial chests.
I turned to Patrick, but he was as speechless as I was. This was the end: murdered by bandits, as all the guidebooks had warned us.
The taller of the two stopped in front of us. "Sorry to bother you, chaps," he said, in an accent that owed more to Balliol than Baluchistan, "but do you need petrol?"
"We do, in fact. Yes, we do, actually," I stammered, as he and his compatriot pushed the Enfields around the dune to reveal a Mad Max encampment of mud huts surrounded on three sides by stacked barrels of smuggled Iranian fuel. One was dragged over, a hosepipe and a muslin filter fitted, and both our tanks were filled for the princely sum of fifty pence.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  p66
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 08, 2017, 03:03:58 PM
We were definitely in Bulgaria, where the cultivation of facial hair is a national pastime. And, it seems, motorcycle maintenance. In contrast to the Turkish mechanic who had fixed Patrick's pushrod for good by snapping it in half, the owner we asked to check my noisy front wheel bearings was a genius. Within five minutes, he had stripped down the entire wheel, declared the noise to be a wonky speedometer unit, re-greased the bearings anyway, given us a new spare oil can to replace the leaking one, which had left a trail of fossil fuel all the way from Delhi, checked our tyre pressures and reluctantly accepted the equivalent of 90 pence by way of payment.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  p106
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 09, 2017, 02:29:31 PM
It was evening, and shepherds everywhere were bringing in their sheep. As we rounded a corner, the belated stragglers of a flock dashed across the road. Patrick braked sharply, but he was already too late.
On an Enfield, the drum brakes are so bad that had he wanted to stop in time, he should have started braking three days earlier, at about lunch time. Enfields actually come supplied with a braking diary for just this purpose, so that you languidly fill a pipe of Old Throgmorton's Ready-Rubbed, take a fountain pen from the pocket of an ancient tweed jacket and make entries like: 'Wednesday, began braking. Saturday, hit sheep'. And so it proved. There was a sickening thud, the last sheep went sprawling into the ditch and Patrick and the motorcycle went sliding down the road on their side.
I cut the engine and raced over as he got groggily to his feet.
"I'm all right, I'm all right!" he said.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  p109
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 10, 2017, 08:42:28 AM
Part 2. Route 66
I started going out with a girl who seemed ideal. She was a quarter Indian, a quarter sexy, a quarter voluptuous, a quarter funny and a quarter vivacious. I know that's five quarters but, as my mother always says, there are only three types of people in the world: the ones who are good at maths, and the ones who aren't.
Several months of the relationship passed, and apart from the arguments, the slammed doors and the broken glass everything seemed perfect. Until the weekend I went away for a volleyball tournament and came back to find that she'd got religion.
Now, don't get me wrong. I've got nothing against religion. Apart from the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, corruption at the Vatican, child-molesting priests, sadistic Christian Brothers, proselytising missionaries, humourless fundamentalists, suicide bombers, jihads and sectarian murder, I think it's a wonderful thing.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  p138
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 11, 2017, 10:08:13 AM
Which was where things started to go what I believe is referred to in the trade as pear-shaped. You see, Harley-Davidsons are built for going from New York to Los Angeles in a straight line at 55 mph. They are not built for negotiating hairpin bends on steep, winding Donegal lanes at 0.5. Especially when the man in charge of gear selection has unaccountably picked second instead of first. That was me, and as a result of stalling the engine, I quickly found myself in the rarely used horizontal motorcycling position, while, behind me, Cate was sailing through the air with the greatest of ease to land on the part of her body normally used for attaching her to sofas.
"Oh dear!" she said. "I don't seem to able to get up. It's either because I am paralysed, or because this lane is so steep that my head is below my feet."
"I do apologise, dear," I said politely, "but even worse, there seems to be petrol leaking out of the fuel cap over the hot engine, so I may well shortly be immolated."
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  pp144-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 12, 2017, 05:59:15 PM
I climbed on, zipped up my leather jacket, adjusted my shades, checked that I had a full tank of gas, and rode to Grant Park on the shores of Lake Michigan, where Route 66 began in 1926. Only to discover that Chicago had made it one way. 
As I was sitting trying to work out how much it would cost to dismantle the bike, post the pieces to LA, put it together and start from there, another policeman arrived on the scene.
"Can I help you, sir?"
"Good question. Is Route 66 one-way all the way from LA?"
"Nope. Just to the end of Jackson Boulevard."
Very helpful chaps, American policemen, unless you're a black down-and-out vegetarian mobster. I turned for one final look at Lake Michigan, the last of water I would see until the Pacific, and then started on the long road west.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  p161
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 13, 2017, 11:42:35 AM
For someone who had been on the old road for miles, it was a very peculiar experience finding a whole building dedicated and realising that you hadn't imagined it after all. The tour of a chronological history of the road was narrated by author Michael Wallis, in a voice as dark as tar and as sore as all hell about the way in which America had almost allowed its Main Street to die.
"The road brings us back to a time when the country was not littered with cookie-cutter housing developments, franchise eateries and shopping malls selling lookalike merchandise to people who have lost their own identity," he said. "This highway of phantoms and dreams is the romance of travelling the open road, the free road. Whenever we think of Route 66, we think of the road to adventure."
And so long as someone hums 'Get Your Kicks' or reads The Grapes of Wrath, the road still lives. Or even better, climbs on a Harley and rides off into the sunset.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  p189
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 14, 2017, 02:20:09 PM
There is something very special about travelling by motorcycle, and especially on that fresh spring morning, for since 0klahoma is a helmet-free zone, I had stashed mine and was enjoying the wind in my hair. I know, very irresponsible. If I had died, I'd never have forgiven myself. And Cate would have killed me. It is the simplest and most carefree of lives, I thought, as I rode along unburdened by the adult cares of mortgages, of rising damp and the falling pound. A life in which the only decisions are whether to choose the almond cake with lemon curd or the French Silk chocolate pie at the Country Dove in Elk City.
Mmm. Tough choice. I went for the chocolate, and it was the best so far. I know I always say that, but it's always true.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  p191
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 15, 2017, 01:03:07 PM
"Hell, I been travelling that old road for years."
"Really? What's your favourite part of it?"
"Right here. No parties, no bullshit, no nothing. Just peace and quiet."
"How long have you lived here?" I said, torn between continuing with the conversation and continuing with the pie.
"Three weeks. Pulled in right outside on a 1200 Sportster to let her cool down and the engine blew up on me. Got a job on an ostrich farm near here, so I can save up to get her fixed"
"Hell, that's funny," said the man at the table behind. "Me and Alice here were riding an FLH 1500 just west of Gallup when the engine blew on us. Got a lift here with some Navajos."
"Yeah," said Alice, "we was trying to outrun a dust devil. Doin' ninety and that critter was still sittin' on our shoulder."
It could only be a matter of time before the man behind Alice turned around and said: "Hey, it's funny you should say that, but..."
I got up and paid the bill.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  pp228-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on October 15, 2017, 02:09:41 PM
Yep! That's the trouble with BS, it's self-propagating!  :grin :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 16, 2017, 09:29:54 PM
As the sun sank over the ocean, I rode back to Santa Monica Boulevard, where Route 66 ended the journey it had begun 2,448 miles ago in Chicago, and where I would now end it too.
I sat on the grass under the waving palms and thought how trips like this can change a man. For one thing, it would take a while to get used to waking up every morning and realising that you don't have to ride a motorcycle for hundreds of miles through icy rain, savage wind or baking heat. But it was more than that. Journeys like this awaken the restlessness which is in all of us. I looked down the coast at where I had lived for a summer when I was a young man, and then out at the ocean as it finally accepted the dying sun, and realised that my life would never be quite the same again. But then I realised that it had never been quite the same again. But then I realised that it had never
same before.
Way To Go  Geoff Hill  p234
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 17, 2017, 09:05:57 AM
It wasn't until last summer that I picked up the book for a third time, looking for something to read on the first vacation in five years during which I could relax from some of the responsibilities of parenthood. That time, reading with a whole new perspective, I sailed right through. The guy got it! He wasn't just looking for a nice vacation; he wanted to figure out "quality" as a thing in itself, not just a description— a noun, not an adjective. He wanted to learn what's needed for his life- my life, everyone's life, to move up a notch, to be the best it can be, truly harmonious in a world swamped by so many improvements that they buckle under the weight of their time-saving intentions. As a busy parent juggling work with family, that perspective struck close to home.
But it's showing its age, this book. It's written in a folksy style that reminds me of my parents, and it refers constantly to the paraphernalia of a previous generation.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  p6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 18, 2017, 09:59:04 AM
It's 91 degrees in Elbow Lake, still in Minnesota, and time to stop for lunch. Most people ate a couple of hours ago, but I'm on my own time here, stopping when I want, riding when I want. It's time to cool off now and eat something.
The Pirsigs would have had a proper meal, so the Heartland Cafe seems about right, here on Central Avenue, and I park the bike carefully outside the front window. When your luggage is secured only by bungee cords, it's a good idea to keep an eye on the machine. As well, the pavement is very hot, and the weight on the side stand might push it into the asphalt, creating its own little pothole and causing the bike to fall over. That could break a mirror, leak the gas, and- most important- look very uncool.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  p20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 19, 2017, 10:08:00 AM
"I love to fly," says Bill. "I bought my first airplane in the sixties, and now I've got six of them." He names several- a Piper Cherokee 180, a 1947 Stinson 108-1, a couple of J3s. "But in the seventies," he continues, "I had an argument with the city airport when they told me I couldn't do something, so I said I'd start my own airport. They said I couldn't do that, so I said, 'You'd better sharpen your pencils!' If anyone tells me I can't do something that just makes me want to do it all the more.
"I started this place in 1978 on four square miles of land. There are forty lots sold now and probably another ten left to be developed. I sell them to pilots who want to keep their plane near their home. Bush pilots mostly, who don't like to be told how to do stuff, people like me.
"I can't fly my planes anymore because of this Parkinson's, but when I get the urge, I call up a neighbor and they take me for a ride. They do the taking off and the landing, but I take over when it gets upstairs. Planes are like motorcycles: once they're in your blood, they're always in your blood."
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  p86
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 20, 2017, 08:15:13 AM
At the best of times, riding in the rain is a miserable experience. On the way to Minneapolis, there was a whole day of rain and wind and cold, with the spray from the trucks knocking visibility down to a minimum.
For much of the time I'd been stuck behind a window-frame delivery truck and unable to pass- the truck would speed up whenever the road widened and slow right down when traffic appeared. There was a picture on its back door of a window, painted to look like you were peering through the panes at the pretty landscape on the other side, with sunshine and flowers and green leafy trees. "Kolbe and Kolbe," it said. "You'll like how we do the curves." But its slipstream was bashing me from side to like a beaten boxer, catching the broad sides of the luggage and pushing around the bike's tall front wheel. It was a cruel irony to be stared down by the scenic countryside on the truck's door. I didn't like how it did the curves at all.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  pp101-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 21, 2017, 11:08:00 PM
It was Zen that brought me here and Zen that helped get me to the top. Just as readers who like motorcycles are attracted to Pirsig's book, so are readers who appreciate Zen. And both sides are often disappointed that Zen and the Art isn't really about either motorcycles or Zen. But then, Pirsig states this clearly right up front.
The title came a year or so before the journey even began. Pirsig knew what he wanted to tell an audience about "Quality" and had prepared an essay for Sutherland that touched on their differing views on motorcycle maintenance. As students of Eastern philosophy, they were familiar with Eugen Herrigel's seminal Zen in the Art of Archery, published in English in the '50s, which argues that even ordinary tasks can have a spiritual dimension- tasks like shooting arrows or fixing bikes. "The 'art' of archery" wrote Herrigel, "does not mean the ability of the sportsman, which can be controlled, more or less, by bodily exercises, but an ability whose origin is to be sought in spiritual exercises whose aim consists in hitting a spiritual goal, so that fundamentally the marksman aims at himself and may even succeed in hitting himself." The title of Pirsig's essay, and the larger book he knew he wanted to write, came from this text.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  p113
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 23, 2017, 06:00:10 PM
Why spend an hour fixing your bike when you can do it in ten minutes and move on to the next thing? And why spend ten minutes doing it when you can give the work to someone else, even though it will take you half a day to earn the money that the service provider will charge? The big problem, as Pirsig sees it, is that the service provider won't always do a better job, and your life may be a little bit worse off on account of his or their lower standards.
After all, why should the service provider do a good job? He or she will probably never see you or meet you. Nowadays service providers may not even live in your country. Overseas laborers will be paid more if they can double the production rate of somebody like Pirsig- probably they can churn out a dozen motorcycles while he's still tinkering over his valves or his drive chain. Third world laborers can make a hundred cheap workbench drawers in the hour it would take Pirsig to think through the roller mechanism and disassemble his son's skates and construct a drawer that will still slide smoothly thirty years later.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  pp143-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 25, 2017, 09:17:17 AM
The sky is completely blue, a contrast to the pine trees and small green grazing fields to either side of the road.
I can't go too fast because it's uphill, so I lock in comfortably at the speed limit and sway casually with the highway as it climbs toward the next state. This is relaxing, almost meditative. The temperature's perfect when the breeze slides through the sleeves of the leather jacket and wraps around the back of the neck. The road is dry, and soon there's the pass and the 'Welcome to Idaho!' sign. The GPS shows that the Pirsigs pulled over at the rest area here, where there used to be a restaurant and store, so I pull over, too, not so much to copy them anymore but because they've led me to some pretty good places so far.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  p167
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 26, 2017, 09:40:23 AM
I love this photo because my older boy, Andrew, is smiling and standing with his arms clasped in front and his younger brother, Tristan, is standing beside him, a little shorter and goofier and a little toothier in the grin. They're pleased to be wearing smart adult clothes and anticipating the joy of the wedding that's about to take place.
In their eyes is a light of innocence and happiness and excitement for the future. But now I look at the picture and wonder if it might also be a Peter Pan photo. As I've seen so many times, even just an hour ago in that ditch, anything can happen.
But that's not the lesson of Zen, which tells of living for the moment and having no problems right now, enjoying the strawberries for their sweetness. So far as I know, both boys still have that light in their eyes. Now, though, it's a reminder of one of the greatest lessons of all: live as if you'll live forever, but live each day as if it were your last.
Maybe Pirsig's advice to son Chris- just be honest- wasn't so bad at all.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  p176
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 27, 2017, 01:56:26 PM
The dry camping gear packs quickly, but before the bike gets loaded there's some time to check her over for the day. That reference to watching Chris through the wheel was a reminder to inspect her spokes, which can work loose over bumps and throw off the symmetry of the turning tire. I work my way around the wheels with a small wrench, tapping each spoke to listen for a difference in the sound of the tap or feel a difference in the rebound of the wrench. All seem fine.
The rear tire is not in good shape, though. It's worn almost flat in the center, leaving very little tread to dissipate water on a wet road. Cornering is riskier with the tire's square profile. With more than a thousand miles to go, it seems to be wearing much more quickly now that the chunky rubber knobs have been eroded. My plan had been to change both tires in San Francisco, but with so little tread left, I don't think the rubber will make it there. Soon the steel cords will start to show through, and the tire will probably blow.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  p198
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 28, 2017, 12:47:59 PM
There's nothing else to think about as I press on along the lake. Do I have the notes of Pirsig's later description of the place? Will the GPS work if it's dried under a hair dryer? My mind is five hundred miles away, along the coast, when the main gas tank suddenly runs dry.
The bike stutters and coughs. I reach down to twist the fuel tap around to reserve and it chugs back to life, but then I look around and realize this is the middle of nowhere- more than fifteen miles from the nearest gas station, back at Klamath Falls. The lake is receding behind me, and there's nothing ahead but trees. I pull over for a check of the map and shut off the engine immediately. The map shows some sort of settlement way up ahead, but there's no guarantee of gas.
The reserve won't get me back to Klamath now. Nothing to do but carry on.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  pp228-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 29, 2017, 12:04:47 PM
There's a sound from the woods to the right, music of some sort, and soon a small car drives into the sunshine. As it comes out of the trees and into the town, the music from its open window grows louder and louder until it's as loud as it can be, some kind of rock guitar, but then it fades away at the end of the track. A young woman is driving the car, a blue Chevy Tracker, and the stereo is probably worth more than the vehicle, for the sound was clear and musical even at full volume.
A pickup truck backs out from the store's parking lot, and the Tracker comes to a halt to let it pull into the road. The music has ended now, and the silence is more pronounced because of it. The pickup drives away.
And then a voice comes from the Tracker with no music behind it, clear as can be. It must be the next song on the CD it's so loud it's as if it's all around.

BE NOT AFRAID— THIS TOO SHALL PASS.

And as the voice speaks, the young woman turns and looks directly at me. Her eyes are very dark, almost completely black.
Silence. She looks ahead again and drives off to the south, toward my stranded motorcycle. As the Tracker pulls into the forest, there's the sound of rock guitar starting up again and disappearing through the trees.
The hairs on the back of my neck are standing up. I'm waiting a gust of wind to blow through.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  pp255-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 30, 2017, 09:13:53 AM
But this voice was completely explainable. It must have been gospel rock and the timing pure coincidence. It was just a woman driving a Tracker, looking my way as she waited for the pickup truck because she had to look somewhere. I was looking at her, after all.
I'm not a religious person. But riding south now toward the turnoff for Highway 1 and the coast, I feel like a heretic who's recanted.
Zen and Now  Mark Richardson  p259
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 31, 2017, 09:22:16 AM
With the headlight on full beam and my thumb on the horn I felt sure that as usual we'd make it through the chaos.
We didn't. There on the right stood an Mzee who was carefully looking both ways before stepping out into the road. I'd never seen anyone do that before in Africa. Normally the inevitable potholes, the condition of the vehicles or the enthusiastic yells of the conductors meant that a pedestrian could hear something coming, and they wouldn't need to look.The old man stared straight at us, and hesitated before trying to make it across, but try he did.
With just two steps he was in front of us; there was no time to react as the front wheel hit him with a sickening thump. As we hit the road, I saw him somersault almost in slow motion over to the rubbish-strewn roadside.
Somehow, I ended up on my feet with just the sleeve of my jacket scratched, but John was rolling in agony in the middle of the road. Seeing that there wasn't a lot to do for him, I rushed over to the bike where petrol was spewing over the hot engine. A passer-by helped me pick it up from where it had landed almost upside down in the ditch. Another spectator yelled in Swahili, "You must not move your machine, the police will be coming!" After squatting down to turn the petrol off, I looked up to see that I was surrounded.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  p2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 01, 2017, 11:44:41 AM
Before me, two cars had also got caught in the excitement. I let them make a path through the crowds for me. Then the red Fiat indicated to go right through a gap and as he turned I sped up a bit not wanting to lose the other car. The next thing I knew was that the Fiat driver had changed his mind and was heading almost sideways towards me. Life turned into slow motion, and the inevitable happened. With a loud crunch the car collected a deep pannier shaped dent. The crush of the crowd stopped me falling over but within seconds I was faced by four arm-waving, decidedly angry men. The crowd stepped back a pace, and everyone turned to watch the new entertainment.
There was no escape. I'd learned enough arm waving and shoulder shrugging to plead innocence but it wasn't working. The situation started to turn really ugly and I thought I was about to get thumped. Then from above, a stern voice rapped out at the men and several hundred eyes swivelled upwards in unison. There on a wrought iron balcony stood an old man dressed as if he had just stepped off the set of a gangster movie. Clad in a double-breasted pin-striped suit he'd seen the whole thing and after a few moments of firm talking the crowd parted and I climbed onto the bike not quite able to believe that I was free. I had a moment of electric-start bliss, and we left before the spell was broken. Pompeii could wait for another trip.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  pp14-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 02, 2017, 10:54:26 AM
Hay, Jose, Mike, Sally, Deit and I linked up again to head south down the banks of the Nile. It's a bizarre ride. You can see desert on both sides of the valley. There's a lush green strip of land that's bordered cream-coloured sandy desolation. In the middle of the day the heat becomes intense and the only way we found to keep cool was to keep riding, with stops only in deep shade. These bum rests were always an adventure as five bikes stopping on a seemingly deserted section of road attracted a crowd of spectators from thin air. Orange sellers, old men on donkeys, mischievous kids and the inevitable mangy dogs would descend upon us. It was never very restful, but always an event.
Pulling away from one such rest, the bike felt wrong, sluggish. Kids would often try to hang on the bikes as we rode away so I checked my mirror. There were no uninvited passengers, but behind billowed a large umbrella. Some cheeky child had hooked it to my luggage and fifty faces behind us were split with broad grins.    
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  pp34-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 03, 2017, 08:54:41 AM
In the morning before setting out across the scrubland we had to report to the police again. Three valuable riding hours were wasted when a bout of aggression and chaos started as we'd finished our breakfast of bread and bananas. 'Officers' came to the hotel before we could get to the police station. They were in plain clothes and had no identification papers. Their faces mirrored the mood of the town and Mike took an immediate disliking to them. All three were thin, sallow skinned and unkempt. The leader had a skinny face that, underneath a hooknose, held a set of blackened and broken teeth. His breath smelt of rot and he talked in a demanding, weasel-like manner. His belligerent and surly second in command had a face that was moon shaped and badly pock marked. This one was the 'heavy', though he struggled with the role. The sycophantic runt of the litter hovered behind, hopping from one foot to the other.
For all we knew, the three of them could have been in league with the bandits down the road. So, we demanded to see ID before allowing them to inspect our papers or gear.
The men disappeared to return with identity cards whose mug shots didn't match theirs.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  pp67-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 04, 2017, 04:06:32 PM
Tyre off, we found a foot long split in the inner tube. How it had got there was a total mystery, as there didn't seem to be anything sticking into the tyre.
A group of boys herding goats straggled past us. They were entranced by our mirrors and they acted as if they had never seen themselves before. We guessed that if they had, it was probably only in the still waters of the village pond. They stood in an orderly line, everyone waiting their turn to stare at themselves. Each boy was a delight as he poked and stroked his face, the others in fits of giggles.
With the wheel almost back on, a car screeched to a halt just down the road. It was the first car we'd seen outside a large town in Ethiopia. The driver leapt out and ran back up to us. "Can I take your picture?" he yelled. After all the pictures we'd been taking of the locals, it seemed only fair.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  p88
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 05, 2017, 01:14:14 PM
One of the horsemen saw us and spurred his horse across- a race was on. I could hear the horse snorting and its hoofs thundering on the ground as we sped down the road. The horseman was flashing a white against dark tan grin at me. These few minutes brought home to me what an amazing country we we were in, and suddenly, the risks seemed worthwhile.
In the next town, we had to refuel. There were pumps, (the first we'd seen since Gonder) but no fuel. There wasn't a drop at any of the five stations. While waiting at one pump for an answer I noticed a face that stood out clearly from the rest of the inevitable crowd. This face beamed a cheeky grin at me and then disappeared only to return a few moments later. The young lad, face still beaming, proudly opened out centre page spread from a motorcycle magazine. It was a bright red Ducati. He seemed to be saying to me, "Look, I'm a biker too." I still wonder where he got the pages.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 06, 2017, 01:32:00 PM
Much of the route we'd been riding was the same as Ted Simon had done on his Triumph way back in the mid 70s, when riding a bike through Africa was a decidedly brave thing to do. Every so often we recognised sections of his journey - some things don't really change much in this part of world. This next section of road through lush farmland around the base of Mount Kenya made me feel that I was almost riding the pages of his book 'Jupiter's Travels'.
Just  south  of a town with the wonderful name of Nanyuki, the Equator slices across the main road to the capital. We stopped amidst the ramshackle market stalls to savour the crossing moment and take photos in front of the mustard yellow Equator sign.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  p125
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 07, 2017, 09:17:54 AM
It turned out that he had been on the checkpoint between the border and Eldoret the day before and had seen me ride through. Normally in Kenya I'd been just waved on through the checks, so hadn't thought twice about it. As I breathed a sigh of relief my new 'friend' started walking round the bike muttering such things as "What a machine." "A super bike," and "Oh yes, indeed, a car on two wheels." He then chortled again with laughter and pushed his rather forbidding hat back from his eyes, which shone. Here was a uniformed bike enthusiast. "Would you like a ride?" I asked.
"Me,on this?"
"Sure", I said, and within seconds his hat and rifle were in the surprised hands of one of his mates, and he was on the bike. We set off down the road with him yelling "Faster!" So I did. One hundred and thirty ks an hour was quick enough on that road though, so after a few kilometres I turned around to deposit him swaggering with glee back at the roadblock. Was that a bribe? No, too much fun to be a bribe.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  p148
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 08, 2017, 10:25:53 AM
We talked on for a little while and then Beth stood, saying that it was time for her to go. We said our goodbyes and she started down the track but had only made a few paces before stopping almost in mid stride. After a moment she turned round and came back to me. Under her cloak was a bag that was made out of an old flour sack; I hadn't noticed it before. Reaching inside, Beth pulled out two tiny hard-boiled eggs and putting them into my hands she said, "You will need your strength for such a journey." Then she turned and set off again leaving me absolutely stunned at her gesture. I'd no doubt as to the value of these two little eggs to her.
A quick rummage in my tank bag turned up my pot of salt and a new bar of soap. I'd read that these were always in short supply in the more remote areas and knew that I must give something back. When I caught up with her and put them in her wrinkled hands, she bobbed a little curtsy and then cried. It seemed that things of little value back home had great value out here, but it wasn't so much the objects, but the point of the gifts that felt so important. I'd just been part of something special and found myself thinking that this was one of the things that I'd not forget when the trip was over.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  p153
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 09, 2017, 09:54:03 AM
Perhaps, unlike the media's apparent view of the world, most people are in fact inherently good. We hear so much of the bad things that a few people do, we easily forget all the every day fine things that most of the other people do. Now, months away from reading my last newspaper and equally long away from hearing radio news, I was free enough to think about such things. When you spend hour upon hour astride a motorcycle, with a helmet on and a strong slipstream to snatch away any attempt at conversation, you have a lot of thinking time (in between the potholes anyway). Nearly everyone I'd met on the trip so far had been great. Perhaps to begin with I'd been so cautious that I'd steered clear of anyone who looked even remotely dodgy and now maybe my senses did the steering automatically. It was time to start looking for them, but how to recognise them? Should the customs officers' behaviour class them as dishonest, or should I just accept that in true African style, they were just making a living?
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  p172
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 10, 2017, 09:26:20 AM
I'd learned a lot more about the bike and was still learning every day. In fact it even developed a personality. It was a girl, she just felt that way and I even discovered a few traits that fitted in with some of the girls in my past life. For example, if I didn't treat her well, then she'd always do something rotten to me. She'd got me a little too close to Africa from time to time, but I'd lived through all my falls; there'd been twenty-one hard ones by now and I'd lost count of the more gentle tumbles. Each had taught me something and I never made the same mistake twice, either with the road, or with the bike. Over the months the bike went from being 'it' to 'she' to 'Libby'. With her name, (short for Liberty because that was what she gave me every day) she developed even more personality. Fresh out of Jersey I'd never have believed that two thirds of the way down Africa, I'd be talking to her!
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  pp221-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 11, 2017, 09:24:13 AM
It was quite a sobering moment. I made a coffee and sat looking out over the valley, my mind wandering over all the things that had happened on the trip, especially all the things I'd got away with and almost certainly shouldn't have. Why hadn't my inexpert usage of the bike caused problems? It had been bizarre to make it through Ethiopia. Why hadn't the militia shot first and asked questions after as was normal for them? Why hadn't the bullets from the roadblock hit us? Why had we missed the ambush of the bus? Why had I so often missed darting animals? Why hadn't my foot been ripped off on the road from Marsabit? Why had I never broken anything when failing off? Why had I not killed the man in Tanzania and in fact, why had John been in the truck and able to save him? Why had I not ended up in prison the three times I'd come close to it? I carried on running through my list of good fortune, never having really thought about it before. I'd always been just too busy getting on with life.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  p229
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 12, 2017, 03:03:12 PM
Movement other than swirling dust in my rear view mirror made me take a rare second look. I hadn't been checking the mirror very often as there was too much going on in front to take the time out to do it, and anyway, I didn't really expect to see anyone there. But this time there was and out of my dust cloud nosed a 4x4; I closed the throttle to let him by. Perhaps my angel had been having a snooze at that moment as I woke up four days later, in hospital.
The glaring white lights made me think to begin with, that I was still out on the road. With senses just beginning to work there seemed to be something wrong, but I'd no idea what. Whilst keeping my eyes partially closed I took a sneaky look at my surroundings. For some reason it seemed important to look without anyone noticing. Well, it was pretty obvious that it was a hospital; the smell and then the beds and screens around me told me that, but what had happened? Trying to work it out, I realised that it wasn't just my bony backside that was aching - everything seemed to be aching.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  pp240-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 13, 2017, 01:34:49 PM
Rob and Fiona gave me a lift out to the truck depot and there she was, filthy and scratched. She'd obviously been standing outside for a long time, but had a clean bill of health at least. Now, finally, I was faced with riding her and I procrastinated for a moment or two, using checking her over as an excuse. Then it had to be done. Swinging my leg over, all the edgy thoughts instantly disappeared as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be doing. She started first time and though my wrist still felt rather weak in fact it was mv left hand, the clutch hand, which seemed most out of condition. It was aching furiously by the time we all got back to the hostel. But if that was the only problem then it was good news. All that was needed now was some practice and I couldn't wait to get on with it.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  p261
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 14, 2017, 03:27:52 PM
In the morning Libby wouldn't start. After five hours of searching, nothing seemed to be wrong. Perhaps a good wash and waxing would do the trick; maybe she was annoyed at having been neglected for so long. An hour later, clean again, and talked to, she started first time but ten kilometres away she died on me, and again there was no trace of the fault. This was the first time I'd been stuck by the roadside on my own without a clue how to fix a problem. Fortunately, in my notebook was the address of a garage that could probably help me. I'd been given the name and address of Charlie's by another biker up in Kenya. Wolf and his brother Gerald are a bit of a legend on the bikers' circuit and over the years in spite of the sanctions meaning a lack of spares, they managed to keep many an Overlander's wheels on the road. Wolf came straight out to me with his truck and by the next day he and his BMW specialist Mohammed had found the electrical fault. I like a bike that waits to break down until help is at hand.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  p261
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 15, 2017, 10:43:59 AM
To get her into Australia without having to pay quarantine fees, she had to be absolutely spotless. This involved literally going over her with a toothbrush and disinfectant; removing no doubt, a little soil from each country since England. The final preparation was to cover her with '3 in 1' oil. With luck this would work as some sort of protection during the passage. She was going on the manifest as 'baggage' and so it would be a free ride for her, albeit up on deck. Even covered with tarpaulins, the salt air and spray were bound to be a big problem so the more I could get oil onto the better. It was a nice job to do whilst sitting on the shady kerbstone outside Ros's house, a constant stream of everyday Durban wandering or chugging on past me as I worked. Strangely, no one took any notice of me - it was almost as if I wasn't there.
Into Africa  Sam Manicom  pp262-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 16, 2017, 10:03:31 AM
He wore a filthy blue denim waistcoat that was decorated in front with embroidered skulls, crossbones and the like. His belly, which seemed to be instantly forming a sheen of sweat, stuck out between the unbuttoned front of the waistcoat. His arms were tattooed with age-faded blues and reds, and around his neck he had a skull suspended on a bike chain that still had oil on it. The chain left a dark mark around his neck, and a greasy pendulum shape on his chest where it must have swung back and forth as he rode. His chin was unshaven with about four days' growth, and his eyes were hidden by the darkest black wraparound shades I'd ever seen. On his shaven head, he had a German Second World War army helmet with a cow's horn sticking out of each side.
I had no sense of fear as I lay there, just the irreverent thought that he looked like an extra from a Hollywood biker movie. He leaned down, without getting off his bike, and said, "G'day mate, how's it going?" Though it was getting rather painful under the bike, and the heat of the exhaust was beginning to burn through my jeans, I was delighted by this absolutely perfect piece of pure Australian. I as a Brit replied, "Not too good actually."
"I can see that mate," he said with a tone in his voice that made it perfectly clear that finding a Brit under a motorcycle in the middle of a dual carriageway was an everyday occurrence. He and the other two Angels got off their bikes, lifted my bike off me, and without a further word roared off in a triple Harley-Davidson blast.
Until that moment, the van driver hadn't realised that it wasn't a Hell's Angel he'd hit, but was walking bravely, honourably and very scared down the road from where he had parked up.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  p11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 17, 2017, 07:59:19 AM
It made a lot of sense to set off in the cool of the dawn, and ride only until midday. Or, find somewhere to hole up in the shade during the main heat of the day, then ride on in the cooling hours until dark. The risk out here was that dawn and dusk are the play times for kangaroos, and I'd already seen how much damage they could do to a pickup - they would be lethal to me on the bike. I'd not seen any live kangaroos at all, but there had been plenty of fly-infested, stinking furry bundles by the roadsides. Some had been bigger than a large dog but others had been big enough, I suspected, to have been able to damage even a big truck.
There were very few road signs along the way, but those that punctuated the roadsides with their vivid yellow frequently warned of kangaroos. Obliquely, since they were almost always shot up, they also warned of bored drivers with guns.
The next day, I set off in the peach and blueberry shades of dawn. I'd slept well and if there had been traffic passing my camping spot during the night, I'd not heard a thing. I'd been just a hundred metres off the road, but that had been far enough to wrestle the bike and there'd been enough bushes for me to tuck in behind. In daylight, I'd have been visible, but was well out of sight in the dark.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  pp52-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 18, 2017, 05:10:00 PM
The Singaporean side of the border was decidedly civilised with a special channel for motorbikes, which sped things up no end, and the Malaysian officials couldn't have been more courteous or friendly. It was almost as if the bike had given us a higher rank than the backpackers. We had wealth and therefore, respect was apparently appropriate - it helped that Jan's dreadlocks were tucked away under her helmet!
Once we were through the Strait of Johore we got lost, were given directions by three blokes hanging out of the back of the truck and got on the right road only to find fifty kilometres of roadworks to deal with. Sandy or muddy diversions took us swinging off to the left of the road for stretches that challenged my back horribly. I didn't dare ask Jan how she was doing on this, her first taste of the road by bike. I had hoped that we would be able to ease her into it gently. But by the end of the day we both agreed that the worst thing about the one hundred and fifty-kilometre ride was that our backsides ached miserably. Both of us were skinny and neither of us had the sorts of muscles that regular biking builds up on the backside to protect it from hours of sitting in one place.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  p109
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 19, 2017, 08:19:30 PM
I'd just heard a coconut hit the ground outside with a thump, and was lazily thinking that the day felt like it was going to be a good one, but I'd forgotten that it was my birthday. Jan treated me to breakfast and had even made me a card. A great day was about to roll.
The odd thing was, except for the fact that it felt like a great day, no one spectacular thing happened. We'd both slept well and eaten well. Neither of us had colds or stomach upsets and my back felt like I had no problem at all. The bike felt good, sounded just right and she seemed to be floating along a road in almost perfect condition, without much help from me, almost as if she knew where she was going and that as it was my birthday, she was giving me the present of an easy ride. Jan was in a good mood too, and she even seemed to have mastered navigating, with her left and right hand problem not interfering - a few days into the trip she'd told me that she struggled with remembering which was which! Roadside flowers made a cheerful contrast to the usual dark greens, and no chickens or dogs ran out in front of us all day. We found petrol when we needed it and a roadside snackbar with great food at lunchtime. The rain stayed away and we cruised at a gentle, road-eating, scenery-watching, ninety kilometres an hour. Life felt absolutely marvellous.
To round the day off, we found a magic place to stay in a town called Kota Bharu. 'Mummy's Hi Tec Hostel' was a gem with a weird name.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  pp113-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 20, 2017, 01:35:59 PM
The raggedy-edged asphalt roads weren't too bad and even though we were still battling with the Thai road signs, we were making good progress, until Roland hit a dog. I'd already decided that Thai dogs had the least road sense of any canines I'd come across so far. They would meander out in front of traffic as if they had every right to be putting their own lives at risk. Sometimes they would sit quite patiently on the dusty verges, usually in the shade of a tree, and then at the most illogical moment they'd casually step out. It was almost as if the dogs were playing some sort of bizarre game of chicken, with the main rule being that you weren't allowed to run. This dog was a fully-grown tan coloured mutt who at the last minute got up and lazily stepped out straight under Roland's front wheel. He had no time whatsoever to react and hit the dog hard, throwing it screaming into the roadside undergrowth. Roland and Sophie did a massive wobble right across both lanes of the road before he managed to get the bike under control again. It said a lot for his riding ability that he had managed to keep them upright, but Sophie was devastated. This was the first time she had been on a bike and had been sitting stiff and nervous behind Roland. She battled to keep calm and was taking large gulps of air as she fought not to cry. Roland was shaking too as it began to dawn on him that they had just had a very lucky escape.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  p130
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 21, 2017, 08:35:52 AM
It was said that if you drink water from the holy river, you will have a long life. People would bring bottles down to fill, so they could take water home for consumption if they became sick at some time in the future. You could even buy tiny clear glass bottles of souvenir Ganges water to take home with you. The dead bodies were in the water because it is a strong belief that if you are cremated beside the river and your ashes are scattered over the water, you will achieve great rewards in the next life. If you can't afford the wood to do the cremation then the next best thing is to throw the whole body into the river, and let it float away. As we sat in a boat, a head and a pair of knees bobbed by, causing three sets of ripples on the glowing river. A whole body was below the head and knees, and in a sitting position those were the only parts that broke the surface. Moments later, a tiny baby floated past us, a purple shape set in orange. The baby floated just feet away from a man who was dipping his toothbrush into the water before brushing his teeth.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  p190
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on November 21, 2017, 09:53:19 AM
A strange and hideous belief. I wonder how many died because of this contaminated water?
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 22, 2017, 10:05:50 AM
The yard bore no resemblance to any yard I'd been to in England. It looked African with ramshackle corrugated huts lining two sides of the dusty oil-laden space, full of cannibalised vehicles and buses that were being rejuvenated on a shoestring. A welder was hard at work, without any eye protection, and mechanics hurried around in oil-drenched overalls, carrying themselves with the air of magicians. They worked hard and fast at each repair. I liked the atmosphere, and the feeling that these guys could fix disaster cases, however bad. Many of the vehicles should have been in a scrap yard, but I knew that within days they'd be back out on the road, belching smoke and earning their owners a living.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  p208
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 23, 2017, 09:50:56 AM
It wasn't that the people were being deliberately difficult, quite the opposite. They were being too helpful, and saving face. They wanted to help so much, that when they didn't know the right direction they would point you somewhere that might possibly be correct, just in case. But whatever, at least they had done something to help you, the visitor to their country. It also never paid to let anyone see a map. People were fascinated by maps, but the majority couldn't read them and that just confused matters even more.
It was far better to ask, "Which is the way to... ?" whilst keeping my hands down by my sides. Even when asking for directions in the correct way, I would still have to ask at least five very different people, and then take the route that most people said. Frequently they'd be right. But the best option of all was to go into a pharmacy, and ask the pharmacist for directions. They were always well educated had travelled and could speak excellent English. Not one time did I have a wrong set of directions from a pharmacist.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  p217
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 24, 2017, 12:21:33 PM
I had nowhere to go, and they weren't slowing down at all. I knew I'd had it, so decided not to watch. I pointed the bike between two of the trucks, closed my eyes and held on for dear life. I was buffeted madly in a sand storm for a few seconds, and then amazingly I was through. I'd no idea how I'd done it, but behind me the roaring orange Tata trucks had flattened every bush. I stopped, got off the bike and shook for an age before having the courage to carry on.
Weeks later I heard the tale of another biker who hadn't been so lucky. He'd lived, but badly shattered both his arms, and smashed his legs so severely that no one ever expected him to walk again. His bike was written off, with one cylinder ripped right away, and the other one forced up into the main engine block by the strength of the impact.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  p219
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 25, 2017, 09:00:31 AM
He told me that he felt privileged to be able to travel outside Iran, as this was his opportunity to find out what was really going on in the world. "Our own press, radio and TV are so censored we don't know what the truth is." He went on to explain that many people had fixed satellite dishes so they could watch overseas TV and listen to foreign radio, but that in recent months the government had been flying helicopters over towns, locating the dishes, which had then been torn down by the  soldiers. He said, "We knew that CNN was also censored and was biased, but at least between their news and ours we could work out something close to the truth. Your World Service is better, but we see how that is changing for the worse also." He told me that many rich people had smuggled in the technology that would allow them to turn their glass patio windows into satellite antennae. "Not so easy for the government to find those," he said with a small but triumphant smile.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  pp231-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 26, 2017, 11:59:53 AM
The guys managed to look as if it (the broken spring bus) were a drunk staggering home on a Saturday night.
Once Dirk and Jens had stripped the broken parts out from their fixings, the welder could get to work. He took three six-inch nails from a box of rusting bits and pieces, which he cleaned until they gleamed, and then did the same with the springs by first burning the paint off. As he dug a pit in the sandy verge to the road, I wondered what on earth he was up to. He roughly curved the nails to the shape of the spring - by this time a crowd had gathered to watch. Within minutes he had welded the nails to the broken spring, and placed it in the pit, which he rapidly filled with sand. Dirk and Jens knew what he was up to. Because the welder had no way of knowing how close in metal type his nails were to the spring, it was important that the repair cooled slowly and equally - the sand pit helped that to happen.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  p280
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 27, 2017, 09:15:00 AM
Jens took pity on me - I hadn't realised that the guys had a giant air compressor in one of the holds on the bus, and as a motorcyclist pulled to a halt to watch from his turquoise Russian Ural, Jens took over. Seconds later - BANG! But it wasn't the tyre popping out onto rim; it was the whole tyre shooting off it. Jens had accidentally over-inflated the tube, and badly damaged the tyre. When we replaced the tube with the old patched one, and got the tyre back on the wheel, I could see that I'd be riding with a blister on the side that would only just pass through the forks. But there was no choice and we set off with me feeling very nervous. I'd no idea how much of a risk I was taking riding the bike like this, but had a very good idea of what could happen if the tyre came off at any speed.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  pp291-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 28, 2017, 08:24:11 AM
By the time our food had arrived, the truck drivers had lost interest in us, but the staff of the truck stop had all gathered round to watch us eat. One could speak some English. "I like CDs." he said. "You have magazines; girl magazines?" he added with twitching eyebrows. The other staff laughed at him, but as we hadn't reacted in the wrong way - no we didn't have any girly mags - they pulled up chairs to sit with us. Conversation in an eclectic mix of Farsi, English and sign language bantered back and forth. The guys were fascinated about what we were all doing, and where we had come from. They wanted to compare their lives with ours. We must have seemed rich to them but that never entered the conversation. As always the grass seemed greener on the other side, and the one thing they all agreed on was that Iran was a bad place. It seemed to be such a bad place simply because they weren't allowed to drink whiskey. The staff followed us through the now fierce wind to the bus. They were fascinated with how the guys had kitted it out to be a home, and insisted that we played CDs for them. Within seconds the aisle on the bus was full of men dancing; the bus literally rocked.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  p297
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 29, 2017, 08:41:34 AM
But I knew that I was a lost cause. I'd developed a raging hunger for the world. I loved being out on the bike and my life was far richer than I'd ever imagined it would be. I'd lived dreams and with perspective, the nightmares had all been part of the adventure. The years had been full of extremes, and each one had challenged, surprised or delighted me. I wanted more!
Libby's thoughts had obviously settled on the land of her birth. Just over the border into Germany, her drive shaft started to vibrate and a nasty whining noise rose up at me over the usual rhythmic tapping sounds of the engine. By the time I was 100 kilometres away from Birgit's home on Lake Konstanz, Libby was telling me she'd had enough. It was almost as if she had waited to go wrong until she was on home territory; she's a bike with class.
Under Asian Skies  Sam Manicom  pp314-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 30, 2017, 08:53:33 AM
It felt like a lot of pressure. Even Ewan McGregor had Charley Boorman as his co-traveller and foil. In fact, because the TV shows the two of them made ten years ago were so good, they almost killed off the genre altogether. There are still some excellent travel and discovery programs, of course. But it's hard to compete with all the contrived TV reality shows, in which people are either bad-mouthing their co-contestants or biting the heads off live spiders, or both. It's frustrating for people like me - non-celebrities who want to share their stories - and I knew it was going to be difficult to convince the people I needed to convince that I could make a show on my own. I just hoped someone would see things my way and realize that the 'Tough Rides' are destination based. The whole point of riding a motorcycle around Brazil is that Brazil is interesting. The presenter is a just a device, to take you there and show you things that are worth seeing and learning about.
Tough Rides: Brazil  Ryan Pyle  p10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 01, 2017, 11:29:13 AM
Even the most reliable bike would need some maintenance along the way, so I had scheduled four maintenance stops- one after each of the toughest sections of the journey. What I hadn't realized, however, was just how much damage mud does to a bike- messing up the chain, destroying the brake pads and air filter, and corroding almost every movable part it oozes into. Normally, you only have to tap the brakes to get the pressure you need. After riding through some of the worst sections of the Amazon, I would squeeze them as hard as I could, only to find that I had zero friction because the mud had eroded the brake pads down to thin plates of metal, which responded to my frantic attempts at braking by making a horrible grinding sound.
Tough Rides: Brazil  Ryan Pyle  pp32-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 02, 2017, 07:59:32 AM
We set off on our sand-dune adventure from Natal early on the morning of day one. I adjusted my tire pressure and suspension and spent the first couple of hours cruising along the sand at the edge of the ocean, watching kids playing soccer and fishermen bobbing around in boats on the water. It was as peaceful and relaxing as I had imagined it would be, and I kept thinking "Pinch me, man. This has to be a dream."
Then the route veered away from the shoreline and headed into the sand dunes, which is when the idyll ended and I found myself struggling to ride a heavy two-wheeled vehicle through very fine, very soft sand. Having to lift my motorcycle repeatedly out of sand that not only seemed to be determined to bury it, but was also acting like a massive reflector for the sun, was totally exhausting. But, after a while, I was back on the beach again, riding on wet, compacted sand, watching the sunlight dancing on the water, and filling my lungs with salty air that is infused with the smell of fish.
It was the beginning of a cycle of events that just kept repeating itself as I veered from cheerful beach bum to the motorcycling equivalent of Sisyphus, who was condemned for eternity to roll a huge boulder up a steep hill and then watch it roll all the way down again.
Tough Rides: Brazil  Ryan Pyle  pp60-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 03, 2017, 12:12:03 PM
I did enjoy having that break every day, stopping to eat real food that didn't come out of a candy wrapper. But I'm in two minds about whether it's always a good thing to stop for lunch. Obviously, you need to eat something, so that your blood sugar doesn't drop to too low: some problems are much easier to deal with when there's at least some food in your stomach. The down-side is that a hot meal can make you sleepy, and then you run the risk of creating your own problems later in the afternoon.
Riding a motorcycle is very momentum driven and on days when you need to cover any substantial distance, you have to be in the zone. When you're fully focused on the road, time just flies by, whereas the first hour after lunch can seem like five.
Tough Rides: Brazil  Ryan Pyle  p69
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on December 03, 2017, 06:11:18 PM
 :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 04, 2017, 09:13:44 AM
We had walked some distance when Leo stopped, dropped his backpack on the ground, and announced, "Now, for the repellent." Then he selected a tree and, with his face quite close to the trunk, made a single loud barking sound. Suddenly, the tree was swarming with thousands of ants. Placing the palm of his right hand on the trunk, in the middle of all the swarming, scurrying creatures, Leo kept it there for a few seconds, then rubbed his hands together as though he was washing them, and held one out to me, so that I could smell the pungent, almost minty odour of 'ant juice'.
"When you do this, you must clean your hands well," he told me, rubbing his own hands over his face and the exposed skin the back of his neck. "You don't want to put live ants on your body."
"Because they bite?" I asked him nervously.
"A little bit," he answered. "You will see. You will experience it yourself."
The part of me that enjoys adventures and exploration liked the idea of experiencing the Amazonian way of making bug repellent. The other part of me- the city guy who hates all crawling things that bite- wasn't looking forward to it at all.
Tough Rides: Brazil  Ryan Pyle  p96
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 05, 2017, 09:21:18 AM
It might surprise some people when I say that I travel without a tool kit. It sounds foolhardy, I know, particularly in view of the fact that we sometimes end up in pretty remote places. There's a reason for it though. If you're completely self-sufficient and never need to stop except to fill up your tank with gas, you could do an extensive journey in a country like Brazil without ever really interacting with people, particularly in the rural communities you pass through. And that would be a shame. Cities are fascinating, and talking to city dwellers can be instructive on many levels, but what you experience and learn from them is just part of the story, in any country. If I didn't need to stop when some relatively inconsequential thing went wrong with my motorcycle, I wouldn't have the unplanned encounters in small towns and villages that often give me most satisfaction.
Tough Rides: Brazil  Ryan Pyle  p128
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 06, 2017, 11:04:32 AM
Our journey involved traveling several thousand kilometers around a country of very variable development. For someone like me, who loves problem solving, all the planning that has to be done to take into account all the things that could go wrong on a journey like that is quite the opposite of the logistical nightmare many people might consider it to be. I enjoy setting schedules and being a task master, because I believe that if you want to achieve things in life, you have to set yourself a series of small tasks that eventually enable you to accomplish the larger, life-changing goals. Sometimes, when it's really hard to keep going, you have to remind yourself that each step takes you closer to where you want to be, and the only way you're going to get there is to keep taking those steps.
Every journey stretches and changes me, and after every tough experience that breaks me down, I emerge stronger and more confident in my own abilities. We expected our circumnavigation of Brazil to last for 60 days. I knew that on any one of those days something could go wrong. But I knew, too, that if we made it safely to the end, we would not only have achieved what we set out to do, we would also have learned something about Brazil and about ourselves that we hadn't known when we left Rio de Janeiro just two months earlier. As we left our hotel the Iguazu Falls on the morning of day 48, I knew that was the larger goal on this occasion. To me, it was a goal that seemed eminently worth achieving.
Tough Rides: Brazil  Ryan Pyle  p138
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 07, 2017, 11:04:58 AM
We had spent 61 days on the road in Brazil and at the end of our journey I could honestly say that not a single one of them had been disappointing. There were plenty of days that were exhausting, and some when I didn't think I could have hauled my motorcycle out of the mud just one more time even if my life had depended on it. But even on the worst days, we kept moving. And, for me, momentum is what adventure is all about- moving forward every day, both physically and in terms of having new experiences, learning new things, and meeting new people. In all those respects, and many more, Brazil had far exceeded my hopes and expectations, every day for 61 days.
In the past, I've found it difficult to settle down to 'real life' again after the long journeys I've done. But, for some reason, it was different this time. Instead of struggling with a transition period when I didn't want to do anything because nothing was as exciting as what I had been doing while I was away, I started taking meetings almost immediately after my return to Shanghai.
Tough Rides: Brazil  Ryan Pyle  p169
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 08, 2017, 10:18:14 AM
My first terminal case of showroom lust was caused by one of those Indian motorcycles, a machine built for Indian by Italjet with a chrome tank, motocross bars, and a loop frame. I loved that bike and would sit on it and beg mercilessly for one. My parents were both teachers, and Dad had just enough cash on him to pay the $1.50 to sharpen the saw chain. Plus Dad considered it exorbitant to pay more than 20 bucks for a family meal, a hotel room, or a set of tires. He was not opposed to spending slightly more than that sum on rototillers, purebred beagles, and shotguns, but a new motorcycle was not and never would be part of Dad's fiscal priorities, means, or intentions.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 09, 2017, 11:27:48 AM
Hunter S Thompson
When the Ducati turned up in my driveway, nobody knew what to do with it. I was in New York, covering a polo tournament, and people had threatened my life. My lawyer said I should give myself up and enroll in the Federal Witness Protection Program. Other people said it had something to do with the polo crowd.
The motorcycle business was the last straw. It had to be the work of my enemies, or people who wanted to hurt me. It was the vilest kind of bait, and they knew I would go for it.
Of course. You want to cripple the bastard? Send him a 130-mile-per-hour cafe racer. And include some license plates, he'll think its a streetbike. He's queer for anything fast.
Which is true. I have been a connoisseur of fast motorcycles all my life. I bought a brand-new 650 BSA Lightning when it was billed as "the fastest motorcycle ever tested by Hot Rod magazine". I have ridden a 500-pound Vincent through traffic on the Ventura Freeway with burning oil on my legs and run the Kawa 750 Triple through Beverly Hills at night with a head full of acid.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p28
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 10, 2017, 08:39:50 AM
Dave Nichols
During one of the druggy campfire scenes in the film, Peter Fonda takes a toke of marijuana and asks Luke Askew and Dennis Hopper, "Have you ever wanted to be anyone else?" Luke Askew squints in the pot smoke and slurs, "I'd like to try Porky Pig."
Hopper giggles, and Fonda just nods. "I never wanted to be anybody else." Well, of course you never wanted to be anybody else; you're Captain America, you're Peter friggin' Fonda, the standard by which all coolness is measured. In that moment, my friends, the die was cast, and the rebel in me found a voice. Without ever having thrown my leg over a motorcycle I knew that there was something about riding one that had freedom, with the feeling of the wind in your hair and bugs in your teeth.
By whatever name that feeling went, I wanted it.
As it turns out, I was right. Few things I've found in life give me the same sense of freedom I feel while blasting down the road on a motorcycle, especially if it's a custom chopper.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p36
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 11, 2017, 09:05:39 AM
John Hall
We used to tell him that he didn't need a throttle on his motorcycle- just an on-off switch. That's because the carburetor was either cranked wide open with the throttle nearly ripped off in his hand, or else he was standing on the brake pedal, all 230 pounds of him, trying to lock up the drum brakes and bring the screaming machine to a halt before he blew a red light and broad-sided a tractor trailer.
He blew head gaskets and burned valve seats, or just wrecked the thing and mangled it up like some dirt bike. Fortunately he had a Beeser, a British bike similar to a Triumph, manufactured by Birmingham Small Arms (BSA), and like Triumphs they were easy to repair and handled well. Had he tried some of his circus stunts on a hog, he would have wrecked a lot more often. It seemed his bike was in an almost constant state of repair- in someone else's garage. That's because we never let Willie work on his own bike. He had no mechanical ability whatsoever, and he fixed bikes, like everything else, to wretched excess. He could apply enough torque to rip the head off a boar hog; 1/4-inch aluminum bolts stood no chance against him.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p65
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 12, 2017, 10:19:42 AM
Adele Kubin
All of my life I had distrusted my own abilities. Things hadn't worked out as I hoped. I'd lost my family, my home, even my name. So I expected troubles from the cycle, too, and for some good reasons. My army surplus trike was built on a 35-year-old frame and a small budget with old tools and parts I'd scrounged from swap meets and out-of-the-way bike shops all over the West Coast. The smell of carburetor cleaner, fresh oil, and new paint reminded me that this was, after all, our maiden voyage. Something could indeed come loose, come out of adjustment, or fly apart. But it was my bike, and I wanted to ride.
More rain. I could hear the rumble of the other Harleys behind me. Once again I cursed the person whose idea it had been to put me at the head of the pack. Someone had decided that since I was the only female and with the slowest machine, I should be in front so they wouldn't lose me. I protested that I didn't know where the turn-off to Le Chateau was but to no avail.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p108
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 13, 2017, 09:43:46 AM
I was concentrating on the deer-ridden road in front when I realized the noise behind had shifted direction. Damn! I looked back... The pack had turned off. They were dropping away on a diverging road now 10 feet below down a steep stone embankment. Without really thinking about the consequences I cranked the handlebars, twisted the throttle, and launched off the cliff. Into the air I went, flying, on a homebuilt, World War II, three-wheeled Harley-Davidson. Not many people ever have that sensation, or the next one. Crunch! I landed with enough force to knock the wind out of me, but still rolling, and right in front of the pack where I had started. I could hear the hollering and hurrahs above the wind and engine noise. When I turned around, everyone was waving hands and cheering. I was stunned. What a stupid thing to do, and it worked! I rode on, benumbed, with a silly smile on my face.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p108
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 14, 2017, 12:05:11 PM
James Stevenson
Knievel's plan for the jump was to start his motorcycle in the wings, gun it to seventy miles an hour, go up the ramp, take off, land on the far ramp, go out into the wings on that side of the arena, and somehow come to a stop before he hit the concrete sidewall of the Garden. "It can't be done," one of the men had remarked, out of Knievel's hearing. "He may be able to make the jump, but he can't stop." Knievel limped along down the middle of the arena, past the ramps- a somber figure, his face set and grim. Suddenly, lilting music began to play over the loudspeakers.
Around four in the morning of the day of the opening, Knievel made his first trial jump, landed, zoomed into the wings, and smashed into the wall, injuring himself (one of the handlebars went into his groin; his legs were bruised) and wrecking the front end of his motorcycle. There was talk of cancelling the show, but Knievel decided against it. The motorcycle was repaired, and thin strips of corrugated rubber were taped to the floor of the Garden; these, it was hoped, would slow him down so that he could stop a few feet short of the wall.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  pp142-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 15, 2017, 09:31:57 AM
Dan Walsh
Three weeks, 2,000 miles, about half of it off-road. The worst of it is from Beira to Inhaminga. Slowest damn piste I have ever ridden, a narrow squeeze that's a river in the wet season and a bitch in the dry, a steeply cambered, granny-knuckled finger covered with slippery sand and jaw-clunking rocks. The day is lived through blistered feet on jarring footpegs, through aching wrists on slapping bars, through not-quite-numb-enough bum that's on and off that bucking seating. The bike winces "eeesh" as if it's banged its knee on a coffee table as we clip a pothole and ding the rim. I suspect the rear shock's burst. I know my kidneys have. Every time we hit a bump, I groan and the bike creaks. We sound like Steptoe doing star jumps. This is not sexy off-roading.
And then it rains. Proper tropical wet rain. I'm bone-dry and sweaty. I count to seven. I'm soggy-wet and shivering. Its like riding through a car wash. The sand turns to muddy clay. I spend an hour sitting in a puddle the size of Wales, smoking soggy cigarettes, stuck behind a stick-in-the-mud truck.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  pp152-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 16, 2017, 08:37:03 AM
Jamie Elvidge
Everywhere we went in South Africa people would gather around our bikes, and the same was true out here in the Transkei. There came a moment, though, when the magnetism of those smiling faces suddenly became much more important than our destination. So we stopped. And we let ourselves be totally embraced by these kids with their magical sense of simplicity and joyful curiosity. At one point I was taking digital pictures of them and then showing them the screen. And they were so floored. I was so floored. I'd shoot and then they'd dogpile me. We took them for rides on the bikes; they asked us our names and we tried to pronounce theirs. I don't know how long we stayed, but we never made it near the beach, and when we finally did ride away we'd all been moved to the point of feeling shaken. These people had an inexplicable feeling of happiness surrounding them, yet they were very poor, their futures so limited. It was a kind of happiness that was new to us. Haunting, almost, because the purity of it seemed unobtainable.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p174
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 17, 2017, 11:53:20 AM
Kevin Cameron
By concentrating on this simple design, Guzzi was able to win and defend its championships for a long time. Eventually, despite the 210-pound weight of the 250 and 350 Guzzis, the horsepower of multi-cylinder competition from Gilera, MV Agusta, and others was beginning to tell. After sporadic adventures with V-Twins, inline threes and fore-and-aft fours (looking for all the world like miniature Offys), Carcano decided to go straight to the heart of the matter. If cylinder multiplication was the technology required, he would master it. The new Moto Guzzi would be a watercooled V-8. Transverse fours and sixes were too wide. Air-cooling could not scoop out the heat from the many recesses of such a complex engine. So it was done.
Two questions remained: really high rpm was still a mystery, and there were troubles with crank and rod bearings. Handling had been worked out a long time before for the remarkable singles, but with eight times the cylinders there was no place for the weight to go but up, both in pounds and height off the ground.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p191
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 18, 2017, 01:42:51 PM
Did you know that George Orwell was a biker? Do you know that his bike is supposed to be just where he left it, in a clump of bushes on the Scottish island of Jura? Would you like to go and track it down?
I had returned to Scotland to visit the Clan Macneish, and my two motorcycling brothers Donald and Iain were keen to show me around. A cartoonist can get overly attached to his drawing board, and the chance of a bike tour with a "Quest-for-the-Holy-Motorbike" was too good to miss.
Orwell had left London to live on Jura in 1945. He retreated to an abandoned farmhouse called Barnhill to write 1984. He would have had few interruptions. Barnhill is a remote and isolated building, 10 kilometres from the nearest neighbour and 40 kilometres from Craighouse, the one village on the island. Orwell's only transport was his bike, and I can assure you he was some rider. Just getting there was an epic trip.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p212
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: StinkyPete on December 19, 2017, 08:12:20 AM
While not a motorcycle book, this seems an appropriate place to draw attention to a wonderful book that I've just finished.  It had me from page one, and the story follows two threads, one being Allan's life from a child, and the other is a narrative from his "escape" from the nursing home on the day of his 100th birthday party.   The two threads continue until they meet, followed by a twist ending.

"The One Hundred Year Old Man who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared" is a very good read indeed.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 19, 2017, 09:20:20 AM
"The One Hundred Year Old Man who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared" is a very good read indeed.

That sounds like fun- after all, it's the way I'm heading!   :crackup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 19, 2017, 09:21:29 AM
Jock Mackneish
We looked through the bushes down the valley. At the point where what had been the farm gave way to what still was the bush, there was lone alder tree. It was old and gnarled, and in the bracken at its foot was George Orwell's motorbike.
The man of words would have said something fitting. We could only manage gestures, nods, and an overwhelming sense of occasion. I knew: "This is the place."
Of the bike there was not much left. Forty years of exposure to the salt air had left only the engine, frame, and forks. A major restoration project for the devoted. Our devotion was perhaps more reverent.
We left it where it lay.
It was a 499cc Rudge Whitworth four-valve single, built sometime in the 1930s. There are probably quite a few still going. The lack of rear suspension would have made for hard going on that road. I don't expect the handling was all that wonderful either. It was what we would now call "agricultural." In the 1930s it was an elegant street machine. At no time would it have been easy, but I bet it was fun.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  pp214-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 20, 2017, 09:14:53 AM
Jack Lewis
En route to Estacada, I stopped for gas, mostly to dry the stinging tears with which the sun was punishing me for riding east at dawn. I bought a Power Bar inside, walked up to the side of the bike and kicked down the start lever, which simultaneously started Honey and snapped off her sidestand bolt flush at the frame lug. I wrestled the foundered, sputtering motorcycle back onto her wheels and took inventory: one sprained ankle (my four times-broken left leg, which sprains in a high wind), one busted toe and a dangling sidestand spring, calling for its mother.
Great start.
The attendant goggled through the glass, but didn't say a word. Scary biker man, I guess, or just good entertainment.
Shut down the bike, sat on the curb, taped up my toe with electrical tape from the tool compartment in the tank, ate the Power Bar. Got warmer. Thought of roads sweeping through the Cascade range. Good to be home.
Good to be alive. Good to have a center stand. "Hmm."
"Bet I can still start that bike ..."
Yup.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p242
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 21, 2017, 10:25:16 AM
Steven L. Thompson
And still the pilot did not ride. Until, one New Year's Day, the pilot's wife died, losing a long and bitter battle with emphysema and mental illness. Sixty-five years old, exhausted by the struggle, his own health in jeopardy, the pilot hibernated through the lonely winter.
At Eastertime, the time of renewal, his son gave him a gentle ride through the cherry blossoms. Unused to the passenger's role, the pilot was disoriented at first. But soon, something he saw over his son's shoulders changed him. After the ride, the silver-haired pilot climbed off the BMW with a look the son had not seen for decades. It was the look of their joint past, the look the son remembered when the pilot returned from flying his bomber halfway around the world. It was not the look of a tired old man.
It was the look of the eagle.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p261
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 22, 2017, 12:11:15 PM
Michael Dregni
Irving went to work. He and his crew breathed on a Series B Black Shadow destined for Edgar. Irving ground a new cam profile for top-end speed, and Brown went out and rode the test Black Shadow 143 miles per hour (229 kilometers per hour) at the local airfield before he ran out of pavement. Happy with their tests, the bike was crated and shipped.
Now Edgar needed a rider. Enter Roland "Rollie" Free, a fearless Davidson hater who had seemingly sworn his life to battling the menace from Milwaukee. Free was an original. His mentor was O. K. Newby, the former captain of the Flying Merkel board-track race squad. Newby later teamed with Free riding a Wall of Death in Depression-era carnivals where a lion was turned loose in the barrel to take swipes at the rider as he circled the top at speed. As Free's friend Mike Parti later described him to Vincent historian Zachary Miller, "Rollie Free was a gentleman of the old school. He'd never swear in front of ladies, but he'd fistfight at the drop of a hat." Free had been devoted to Indians for outgunning Harleys on the track and countless duels on the street. He had set a handful of speed records on Indians, and combined with his distaste for all things Harley, he was the perfect man for the job.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p274
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 23, 2017, 10:08:57 AM
Michelle Ann Duff
Read, now in sole possession of second place [of the 350 Junior TT], motored past a few moments later and waved. I sat, fighting back tears for what might have been, cursing my bad luck. It was at that moment that I glanced at the rear tire. I couldn't believe what I saw. I looked again, questioning what my eyes recorded. Big chunks of rubber, many an inch in diameter, were missing from the treaded face of the experimental tire, and the canvas showed through in numerous places. I stared in horror at the mutilated tire and considered what lay just up the road from where the crankshaft had broken: the Mountain Mile, the Black Hut, the Veranda, the three lefts before Windy Corner, the 33rd Milestone, and the drop through Kates Cottage to Creg-ny-Baa, all fast and demanding corners requiring a good rear tire. It could have been instant death, or worse still, permanent mutilation, should a tire have blown on any of these corners. I wonder to this day if the tire would have finished that lap, let alone another two at nearly a 100-mile-per-hour average had the crankshaft not broken? Looking again at the tire, I knew for sure it would not have gone the distance. The metallurgy failure had been a blessing. But what had caused the crankpin to fracture? It was not a common failure.
The Devil Can Ride  Lee Klancher (ed)  p294
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 24, 2017, 01:23:44 PM
Travelling alone is challenging and liberating. There is no one to blame if things go wrong, or to confer with over decisions but nor are there arguments about which way to go with every fork in the road. We had travelled together in Southeast Asia for a month and enjoyed each other's company, happy to jump on a bus because we liked the name of the destination. You have to be comfortable with a companion in those situations, as you are together twenty four hours a day. The penalty for travelling as a couple is not meeting so many people, as there is always someone to talk to. I talked to her while riding. Nothing dramatic, just "Look at that- mind that truck!"
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 25, 2017, 08:23:06 AM
An important feature of early morning stops was fat-bastard breakfast diners. Eating is taken very seriously all over the States. A Tennessee breakfast typically consists of two eggs easy over (or is it over easy?), hash browns, sausage, biscuit and gravy. The sausage is a burger and the biscuit a bun. If you ask for a burger they put the sausage in the bun. Gravy comes in a separate bowl, looking and tasting like porridge with chewy bits. Syrup and blackcurrant jelly on the side- weird, but excellent value at about three dollars. One thing I learned early on is never, no matter how hungry you are, ask for a large portion of anything. For a light snack, I went to a Blimpy Bar for a tuna roll. It was two feet long and had the girth of a sumo wrestler.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p27
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 26, 2017, 09:05:58 AM
The sun was snuffed out like a candle as spectators shuffled around looking confused. As the first enormous drops splashed into the gasping dust, I asked a leathery old Navajo Indian if this was seasonal weather. "Not in my lifetime," came his reply, and then he gave me the name "Rain Maker". I apologized for dampening the parade and joked that if I manage a repeat performance in the Sahara there could be money to be made. Tactical error. American Indians do not necessarily share the white American romance with the dollar. "Don't make money - make flowers," he said in all seriousness. My ex-father-in-law taught me one useful lesson. When you are in the shit, stand still. Do not spread it around. Regrettably, his words had been lost somewhere on the highway as I asked directions to the Strip- Mecca of gambling with the lasers and bright lights that have made Las Vegas so famous. He gave me one of those looks reserved for stupid white travellers. "You want Las Vegas, Nevada. This is Las Vegas, New Mexico." Well how was I to know there were two of them?
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p33
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 27, 2017, 10:06:35 AM
Leaving Guatamala city, I witnessed a grotesque obscenity. There was a shiny, bright McDonald's burger joint with an inflated clown leering down on to the litter-strewn pavement. Darkness had fallen on half a dozen barefoot kids asleep on the walkway framed by the light of the restaurant window. Those kids were more likely to fly to the moon than taste a Big Mac, but the sign represented the best begging patch in the city. The principle of that American dream was to provide cheap nourishment, especially for kids, but in Guatemala it was only attainable by the wealthy.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p64
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 28, 2017, 09:44:36 AM
At first light, I was packed and in a determined mood to make Honduras by nightfall. An hour later, I was still searching for anything that resembled a road south. Most locals could not be bothered to offer directions and displayed a definite attitude problem. In most countries, youths gather round the Triumph asking, "How fast does it go- how many pistons- gears?" All they wanted to know in El Salvador was "How much?" Naturally, they did not receive an honest answer and the dark, sinister looks were quite unnerving. Eventually, a young man offered to lead me to the Pan Americano Highway. Posh name for a heap of rubble all the way to the capital. I followed in the dust of the guy's pickup for about half an hour along unmade roads before suspecting he had taken me for a sucker. By the time he pointed the way, I was ready to fight for my bike, but he was the only local to show any kindness to a lost old biker and was rewarded with half a packet of Marlboro cigarettes.
My frame of mind may have influenced my opinion of San Salvador, but it seemed a festering capital city that hit an all-time low in the desirability stakes, with crumbling buildings, garbage everywhere and nothing working.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  pp66-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 29, 2017, 10:07:52 AM
For some reason, the urgency of travel was diminishing and an enjoyable experience was becoming more important than just "getting an there". More out of curiosity than respect, I stopped on the roadside to let a funeral procession pass. All the other traffic pushed its way through, but I could not see the need, so I pulled over and removed my helmet. Six elderly pall-bearers solemnly carried the coffin as trucks forced their way past. Those guys looked really old and not far from their last ride on this earth. One of the leading ones lifted a hand from the modest casket and touched his forehead in salute at my gesture. A woman dressed in threadbare black leading the dignified group of about a score of mourners stopped momentarily, turned to me across the narrow road and made the sign of the cross before continuing her task. There were a few nods from others in the procession and I was glad to have witnessed the sombre event. Being a spectator of the lives of others is, to me, a big part of the travel experience and I had a warm, comfortable feeling about receiving a blessing from a stranger.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  pp72-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 30, 2017, 09:17:59 AM
The taller one with a weather-beaten face under a broad-brimmed hat raised an arm to point at the ridiculous white man fighting to keep vertical. He was telling his amigo that the silly bastard on a big bike is lost, I thought. The next few seconds were the longest of my life. The ear-shattering bang and windscreen fragments hitting my visor happened simultaneously. "What the hell was that?" I said out loud, attempting to fathom two apparently unassociated incidents. If a tyre had burst, I could not see why that would cause the windshield to shatter. I needed to stop to investigate, and if I had a problem, the  two guys only a few yards away may be able to help. I did not relish the idea of being stuck in such a remote spot and the tall one was still pointing at me so surely they would come to my aid. Even riding at a jogging pace through mud and rubble, care has to be taken with the brakes to prevent the wheels locking up, but despite the terrain, the bike handling had not apparently changed. "What's going on?" The answer came with a second explosion, which seemed like years later, but in reality was only a few pounding heart beats after the first. The noise of a handgun pointed in your direction is fantastic and quite different from when it is pointing away from you.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p95
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 31, 2017, 12:47:35 PM
When the blatant facts of the situation are unwelcome, the brain takes longer to compute information. By this time I had worked out that the person who I had thought might be a saviour was pointing a pistol at me, not a finger, and the first bullet must have narrowly missed my left shoulder. The second shot confirmed my suspicion that not only was I a target, but the bandit's aim was getting better. My head suffered the sensation of being kicked very hard just behind and above my right ear by a determined man wearing hob-nail boots. The velocity of a bullet travelling at twice the speed of sound colliding with a robust crash helmet wrenches the neck so much my head made contact with the handlebars as I was launched forward by the impact. A vague memory of "life flashing before my eyes" was followed by an instant of semi-consciousness and then blind terror.
Adrenalin tried to take over but, curiously enough, the part of my brain still functioning pleaded caution, so I avoided doing a wheelie into the nearest mud-filled ditch, and instead managed to accelerate away from the brink of disaster. All the senses become sharpened in life-threatening situations. Eyes are forced wide open to avoid blinking as that is all the time needed to make a fatal mistake.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  pp95-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 01, 2018, 07:57:48 PM
The national hero of Chile is an Irishman by the name of O'Higgins. Banks, parks and streets are named after him. His father was affiliated with the Spanish court in the early 18th century, and after an English education, the young O'Higgins returned to Chile to rebel against his father and the Spanish government, liberating the country. He then did the same in Peru. This real Che Guevara character is now immortalized in statues all over the city, and his birthday is a national holiday.
All packed up and ready to escape to a new continent I descended the four floors loaded with luggage and heard Annie Lennox singing A Whiter Shade of Pale on a radio somewhere. Shortly before I departed England, Marian had bought the CD to listen to on our Saturday morning lie-ins. They had been very special times, eating breakfast in bed, chatting, making love. Hearing the song made me burst into tears and I had to climb the million stairs back to my room to recover my composure.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p113
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 02, 2018, 09:44:18 AM
The overnight bus spat me out onto the cold deserted streets of Byron Bay at 4:00 am. Fortunately I had left most of my heavy gear in Sydney, making my progress round that very pretty but tiny town to a youth hostel relatively easy. Byron Bay has developed from the relatively new industry of backpacker tourism and supplies its demands brilliantly, attracting an international set of travellers to its acres of immaculate beach, set in surroundings notable for their natural beauty.
The biting wind inspired another bus ticket to Hervey Bay, the farthest point north possible in a day. The Greyhound bus drove through the grotesquely over-developed Gold Coast Surfers Paradise and the superbly laid out town of Brisbane, following a well-trodden hippy trail. There were many places worth stopping in to explore, and I became more frustrated that travel was dictated by a bus timetable rather than a whim.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p121
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 03, 2018, 10:00:54 AM
All over the world, people's tempers are being put to the test at traffic lights in every major city, leaving me wondering, Why?
We all have our own thesis on what normal is and a good deal of it, like commuting to work with millions of other people, is unappealing. What I was doing for fun may be very unappealing to many people, but it is remarkable how normal it felt, and I was beginning to get concerned about my ability to slot back into the rigid structure of contemporary Western society when it was all over. The popular conception of normality had been a way of life for me for nearly half a century before "the big adventure". The experience of travel was profoundly moulding my attitude to life, and I was resolved to embrace the re-awakening - change the rules, move the goal posts, anything but jumping back on to a bandwagon playing unpalatable music. The how, when and where would have to wait, as the Triumph was stowed in a container and I was off to a different, but familiar, culture in Southeast Asia. Not for the first time, I had placed myself in someone's debt, and there was no real way of showing appreciation for their tolerance when Slim drove me to Darwin in readiness for an early morning flight.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p149
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 04, 2018, 10:11:35 AM
Chulia Street is backpacker city, with cheap guest houses providing rooms to Western travellers for a few pounds. I was resolved to stay for a couple of days to sort out an increasingly painful problem with my right hand. The strain of holding the throttle open all day, every day, had damaged a tendon in my wrist. A doctor in Darwin had given me painkillers and anti-inflammatory cream and told me to rest it for six months, as tendons take forever to heal. I was not in a position to take his advice, so I had to ride the length of Malaysia holding the throttle open with my forearm. I had even tried bandaging my hand to twist grip, but any flexing of the wrist sent stabbing pains up my arm and across my shoulders. Continuing without a short rest would have exacerbated the problem, potentially terminating the adventure, so it was a good excuse to sit still for a couple of days with an arm in a sling.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  pp155-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 05, 2018, 12:25:39 PM
The local buses may have been slow but for a couple of rupees passengers can ride in or cling to the outside, and on that occasion, I managed to get a seat next to a window. Well, it was more of a hole in the side of the vehicle than a window as recognised by most transport companies. A fat, sweaty woman carrying a large box of squawking chickens decided there was plenty of room for her as well as the other three people to sit on a seat made for an intimate couple, pinning me against the hot bus side. In heavy traffic, we lumbered over a railway line, and the engine stalled while we were across the track. Attempting to get some air into crushed lungs I stuck my head out of the window and saw a goods train doing warp nine in our direction. All efforts to restart the bus on the starter motor failed as the train accelerated towards us. I started to fight my way past the mountain of flesh in a bid to escape via the window for fear of joining the obituary column in Motoring & Leisure Magazine.
About 120 people nearest the doors jumped out and started pushing. The bus coughed into life and several hundred tons of rusting metal that had not had a hope of stopping missed us by a couple of feet leaving most of the paying customers on the other side of a very long freight train.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  pp185-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 06, 2018, 02:41:09 PM
I made the mistake of riding late into the night in tortuous traffic. Rounding one tight bend I was presented with two trucks abreast hurtling towards me on a road wide enough for only one and a half of them. Each truck only had a single headlamp working, so I was a little confused at first about how many vehicles were about to end my life. The overtaking truck teetered at a precarious angle with two wheels off the road so he had slammed into the other to get a better foothold. The plan did not come up to the driver's expectation as he bounced off, leaving nearly enough room to scrape between them. The truck's bumper squarely caught a pannier, bursting it open, spilling my possessions over the road, before smashing into another truck a few yards behind me. The impact and steep verge forced him off the road holding up traffic long enough for me to pick up the important belongings strewn about in the halo o£ headlamps. Precious foot pump, sleeping bag, document file were stuffed back in, and amazingly the lock still worked.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p205
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 07, 2018, 01:12:02 PM
I set about the media in the hope of attracting a sponsor but only managed a few articles in the Gulf News and one TV interview that lifted a flagging ego but did nothing for the bank balance.
One gratifying result of the media attention however, was an invitation to a charity bikers' rally. Bikes are strictly weekend toys for wealthy people in the Emirates. About fifty Harley Davidsons gleamed in the sunshine posing for TV cameras all trying to steal the show. The son of a sheik turned up on a gold-plated Fat Boy which most riders thankfully found a little distasteful. A couple of inches off his front mud guard would have repaired my bike and got me home in style. Breakfast was followed by an hours ride to lunch where I was asked to speak about my travels to the assembled company. Unscripted and unrehearsed I was a little apprehensive but it went well with most people laughing in the right places. An English couple who ran a bar for US Marines invited me to the opening of their new bikers' bar and asked me to speak again to raise a little cash for the cause. The crew of the USS George Washington were in fine spirits and after I had thanked Harley riders the world over for their help an amazing amount of crewmen pressed a dollar into my sweaty mitt with every handshake. I was grateful for every donation and the hospitality of some extraordinary people, but importing necessary parts for the Triumph was causing dreadful problems and I still did not have the funds to pay for the rebuild.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  pp219-220
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 08, 2018, 01:14:44 PM
It blows my mind how apparently insignificant incidents completely change the direction of a life and the sequence of events that led up to that sultry evening as I packed up my rucksack with sweat running into my eyes was no exception. How far back do you take it? A day's delay in Peru for repairs had meant I had had to wait weeks for the Triumph to be shipped from South America to Australia. As a result I had seized the chance to see New Zealand and ended up on a train opposite Sue. The war in Myanmar had forced me to change my route across India where I was nearly annihilated by a truck - and Dubai just happened to be the nearest and only accessible repair shop. Obviously, if those events had not happened, equally strange ones may have done, but it does make you wonder if there is someone pulling the strings. Without Sue, there would have been no Sonja to shelter a tortoise without its shell- no Edroos, without whose help continuation would not have been possible and with a team of that calibre behind me, I was feeling optimistic about the way ahead.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p227
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 09, 2018, 09:08:36 AM
Suddenly like the Red Sea parting for Moses the crowd fell away as a Masai, wiry as a thorn twig and well over six feet tall, flanked by two warriors carrying machetes and bows with arrows in the firing position approached. My hand closed on the .38 concealed by a sodden T-shirt and my matted hair stood on end. They had the advantage with the sun behind them and all I could see squinting into the furnace were skinny black things and I was an illuminated target.
"English?" demanded the stately leader. I nodded not knowing if the gesture meant yes or no. His next question floored me completely and not just because he spoke my mother tongue so well. "Do you think John Major will still be premier after the next election?" After recovering my composure all I could do was laugh hysterically.
That elegant man dressed in traditional vivid scarlet loin cloth and shawl over one shoulder, sat and talked of Westminster, the Commonwealth, the Royal Family and British agriculture. He was chief of his tribe and had learned to speak English from listening to the BBC World Service on the radio.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p251
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 10, 2018, 09:47:33 AM
The bike had received a thorough wash, the crippling pain had miraculously disappeared and a gangly adolescent was fighting his way up the steep track with two plastic containers strapped to his back. He quickly grasped my message that a drop of Benzene would go down rather well and both cylindrical containers were released from their moorings. One contained water- the other smelt about right for petrol. I could not believe what was happening, but took the precaution of pouring a little of the urine-coloured fluid into my Zippo lighter to test its flammability. The flame gave off thick black smoke, but it was worth a try. He only had about a litre but it all worked remarkably well and he would only accept a few Birr as a reward for saving my life. If I had been stuck there for another night a second flash flood caused by torrential rain higher up the mountain would probably have drowned me and the bike would have been lost forever under mud slides. After stuffing the money in his pocket the youth loaded himself up again and walked off in the direction he had just come from. I will never understand how he knew where I was or what was required to keep the Triumph team moving but the bush telegraph is mighty efficient in Ethiopia.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p267
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 11, 2018, 10:15:39 AM
I lay a hand on the tank, wiped a tear from my eye and headed for Simon Jones, the man who had phoned me in Dubai to give me the race date strode forward with an outstretched hand. Then there was a shout. "He's here! The old bastard made it after all." Marian gave me a hug and long awaited kiss. Someone put a beer in my hand and the celebrations began- rejoicing was the order of the day.
A notebook fell from my pocket and someone picked it off the floor and handed it to me. It was the very first one I had scribbled thoughts in at the beginning of my adventure. The cover had been ripped off a million miles ago revealing the very first words recorded on my departure, "This is definitely the very first day of the rest of my life". It was as true then as it is now, and is true for every mortal soul. We only get one stab at life, so we have an obligation to enjoy it and make it as rewarding and as fulfilled as we possibly can. Say it to yourself every morning and however you spend that day- make it count.
Triumph Around The World  Robbie Marshall  p286
---
In 2003 Robbie swapped his life in Brighton for a life in Spain and set up home in Almeria where he wrote articles about bikes and biking. In October 2003 he was involved in an accident on his bike and died three weeks later.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 12, 2018, 10:53:41 AM
I find a motorcycle a convenient tool for following these lines. It can carry me hundreds, thousands of miles, distances that would defeat my legs. When I turn off the key I don't have to give it water or hay. It consumes relatively little gas, and as it takes up little space when necessary can be squeezed onto any ferry. It can go down narrow trails, be carried across unbridged gaps, hoisted over a fallen tree. If it gets properly stuck I don't need a wrecker to get it unstuck, just a couple of brawny locals.
And when I come to the edge of a continent and face the Big Water, I can usually convince some passing ship to winch it aboard. Or load it into the belly of some cargo plane. It is my own mechanical Passpartout.
How did I become interested in motorcycling in the first place? Perhaps the devil made me do it. Or perhaps it was Uncle Erminio, who gave me my first ride on a motorcycle at eight impressionable years. He was an Italian country doctor who, on a warm summer's evening thought it preferable to do his rounds on an aged 250 Sertum, rather than be cooped up in a car.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori p4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 13, 2018, 12:34:57 PM
"Squish!" Flat rear tire. A close look at the tread showed some cord showing, but no nail was apparent. It must have been sharp stone that did the damage. I had definitely made a false economy by not replacing the tire in Anchorage. Nothing to do but go forward.
The shop keeper, having seen all this, came out to offer commiseration, a complimentary soda, and a couple of rags. I took the wheel off, took the tire off, patched the tube, and then stuffed a folded t-shirt between the tube and the most worn part of the tire.
"Good luck," said my host, and I believe he truly meant it. I rode the next 230 miles slowly, making the distance without need of the spare can of fuel. Proof that an easy hand on the throttle does extend mileage.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori p40
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 14, 2018, 11:38:57 AM
And there was that same S-curve I had crashed on once before. Wanting to see how fast I was going this time I looked down at the Smiths speedometer. But at night it took a bit longer than expected to read the figures, especially with six-volt lighting, and while I was looking down at the speedo I saw dirt coming up under my front wheel. I was headed for a ditch, and not wanting to bend the bike I put it into a slide bringing the front end back around 90 degrees and heading towards the pavement. My sideways movement was faster than my forward motion, but I believe I would have made it safely if a Nazi tree had not intentionally jumped in my way. I hit the tree going sideways with my right leg taking the blow right behind the knee.
I ended up sitting in the road, in shock, with my right foot strangely flopped over. That looked odd, so I reached down, picked it up, and it flopped the other way. Not good.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori pp63-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 15, 2018, 09:27:46 AM
We waited about 15 minutes, watching record-oriented bikes whizz past. Get ready, one of the staffers said, and another staffer came around and secured our sidestands with zip-locks. The first rider went out 50 yards to where another red-shirt was standing with a green flag. A little discussion, green flag waved, the rider went forward 20 feet and turned right onto the track, just in front of the yellow one-mile flag. And then accelerated away.
My turn: Go out to the flagman. Track clear. Flagger told me to check that my visor is down, chin-strap tight and loose end secured, waved the green flag and I went forward to make a 90-degree turn onto the track, scraped smooth and flat. I was over-enthusiastic, or nervous, and as I twisted the throttle the rear tire spun. Back off, get straight, and now I had a mile to accelerate to the max, red line in first, second, third, fourth. In this gear the engine peaked at 6800, not 7000, rpm. Fifth. The two-mile marker flashed by as the speedometer read 105. I held the throttle and hunkered down. Three-mile marker flashed past. I backed off, half a mile later I turned onto a well-beaten escape road, over to the return lane, and back to the pits.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori pp86-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 16, 2018, 10:21:47 AM
I sliced through the Yorkshire Dales, stopped at Hadrian's Wall, and rode around the Cheviot Hills. In truth I was wondering if would ever have the nerve to use all that throttle. I had already adapted to left-side riding, and breezing through the gearbox was a snickety delight.
Next morning I was up at the crack of dawn to make it through the highlands to John's place. Speeding out of town, a Rover car came up behind me. Whoops, busted. Two constables got out, looked at my paperwork, and, more importantly, the Bonneville T120, which they had never seen, only heard of. The end result, "Looks like you won't be coming back this way, and you're a well-mannered lad, so we'll let you go with a little warning about city speed limits. Have fun."
Now there was full throttle capability, but I was righteously nervous; 46 horsepower may not sound like much in the 21st entury, but it was more than this 20-year-old American was accustomed to. Shifting out of second at 6000 rpm, pushing unheard of speeds for the likes of me.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori p109
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 17, 2018, 10:19:29 AM
Having already had the better part of a year to practice my riding skills, I was proceeding briskly through the curves until at one point I heard a BANG! CRUNCH! SCRAPE!, looked over my shoulder, and Dick was sliding along the road on his butt, while his bike fetched up against a large stone kilometer-marker.
He was unscathed, but picking up the bike we realized that the front forks had been severely bent, rendering it unrideable. In a nearby village we found a blacksmith who had not only a forge and an anvil, but a set of tools as well. Of course he was familiar with straightening-out motorcycles, as it happened all the time. Organizing a flatbed truck and a couple of layabouts, he picked up the BMW and brought it back to the smithy. "I'll call when it's done," he said.
Two days later the call came. We rode back to the village and stopped in front of the blacksmith's shop. No sign of him. A local sitting on bench informed us that the smith had gone on a little ride just to make sure the work was done right. He reappeared an hour later, obviously having stopped by a bar or two, announcing that the motorcycle handled better than when it was new. We headed back to Rome to get ready for our trip.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori pp132-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 18, 2018, 09:10:49 AM
We cheerfully hurtled round and round all day; it was about 3.5 miles done in a very, very narrow figure 8, with an arched cross-over in the middle, tight 180s at each end. One nifty aspect of the Yamaha test track was that the more serious corners had spring-loaded nets to catch anyone foolish enough to wander off course. Some tracks have what is called run-out, acres of grass bordering the racecourse which gives the rider who runs off the pavement time to get back under control. That requires space. Or they might have gravel traps, slowing an off-track bike rapidly, but even those need a bit of room. Space is at a premium in Japan, and  run-out had been sacrificed, replaced by these nets.
Fortunately, none of us tried them. But they looked as though they should work.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori p170
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 19, 2018, 12:39:41 PM
In Agra I was riding down to the railroad station to see about getting the Beemer on a train when I happened to pass mechanics row, a stretch of palm-fronded huts with loin-clothed mechanics under the hoods of everything from a Tata truck to a Mercedes-Benz. I stopped to look.
A well-dressed gent strolled over, introduced himself, and asked if I were there because perhaps something was wrong with my motorcycle. I told him about the bearing problem.
"Well," my new friend said, pointing, "there is the best wheel-bearing expert in the city; perhaps he can fix your problem." The expert had a pair of greasy shorts on, sandals, and was doing something under the hood of a taxi. Not quite like Mr. Goodwrench. I grimaced.
My friend noticed. "Ah, I understand you Westerners. You do not trust the mechanical ability of us Indians. That is understandable. Though not justified. I think that perhaps this man can help you." Okay. I rolled the bike over to the shanty, took the wheel off, uncovered the bearings, and the mechanic inspected them closely, moved them with his fingers, and then said something to my host.
"The bearings merely need to be tightened," translated my friend, "and he can do the job easily." I agreed, and then my host, who was having his Mercedes worked on, and I sat down on chairs in the shade and a small boy brought over cups of tea. The job was done right, the bill so minimal that I added a large tip, and my host invited me to dinner that night.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori p213
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 20, 2018, 09:54:17 AM
Next morning I calculated the chances of my surviving two more days of fun and frolics were not good- if my head didn't split wide open from the daily hangover, something else, like a bull's horn, would get me. I hadn't even fired up the Bonneville since I had arrived. Time to leave, while the leaving is good. Alan was writing in his journal; he looked up and said, "You are one crazy man."
I loaded the motorcycle and headed towards Madrid. It was a beautiful day, and as I climbed up and over the Sierra de Cantabria I was feeling exuberant. I had run with the bulls. I was brave! I was reckless! I was a man! To prove that, I kept the throttle twisted hard, scraping pegs around the curves, charging up the road.
At the top of the pass a group of back-robed seminarians were having a stroll through the mountain meadow, and passing them at speed I gave a wave. Some waved back, others made the sign of the cross.
Hurtling down the hairpinned road on the south side, accelerating down the straights, braking heavily for the turns, I knew that the young priests-to-be were aware that I had a little bit of divine intervention on my side. Which I needed, as those skinny little brakes soon got really hot and began to fade; I slowed down. No point in being too foolish.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori pp242-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 21, 2018, 01:46:16 PM
This trip had begun two weeks before in West Germany, where the folks at BMW had been kind enough to loan me their latest luxury touring motorcycle, a K100RT. From Munich north to where the paved road ends at the edge of the Arctic Ocean was about 2000 miles, I would do a gentle loop up and down, 28 days, 4000 or so miles, piece of cake.
Even time for a little sidetrip through East Germany to Berlin to have a look at The Wall, and ride through Checkpoint Charlie. I expected a few East Berliners to be attracted to this flash motorcycle, but obviously nobody wanted to be seen talking to an obvious Westerner, and I was totally ignored. I got a few furtive looks when I parked beside an outdoor cafe, on the Lindenstrasse, sat down at a table, and ordered a coffee; nobody pulled up a chair to talk about that motorcycle.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori pp308-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 22, 2018, 09:30:36 AM
"Why cannot you be more like other people?" she asked. "Andrei was with another motorcycle tour this summer, and every morning they would leave together, and then in the evening they would arrive together. Why cannot you be more like that?"
"What nationality were these other motorcyclists?" I asked.
"They were German."
"Helen, now you understand the basic difference between Germans and Americans. The Germans are regimented, the Americans are free."
"Some regimentation is necessary," she blustered, "for a society or for a tour group to operate. You are too unregimented. You must learn to do what I, the tour leader, say."
"No, no. The American way is that we pay you, and then you do as we wish."
The discussion could have gone on a long, long time. Helen was obviously a Party member in good standing, with a good job. She enjoyed the perks that Intourist types had, and got to go on vacation to islands in the Indian Ocean every winter. She saw nothing, or would admit to nothing, seriously wrong with the way the Party ran things. Minor improvements could of course be made, but the basic Russian system was all right.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori p339
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 23, 2018, 09:14:34 AM
Bringing us tea and little meat-filled pastries, she positively radiated youthful good health and happiness. She adamantly refused to meet my gaze. A pubescent 14, I judged.
My host took note of all this in a sideways fashion. Very nice no? he asked. Had I been in a larger town, I would have presumed that I had wandered into the local bordello, and that wares were being offered. This village was too small to support such an enterprise. But honesty being a good policy, I allowed to how she was an attractive person, a credit to her community and upbringing.
Did I like her? Now the questions were taking on a distinctly personal tinge. I looked at him; he smirked. It is difficult to define or describe a smirk, rather like pornography, but when it happens, you know it. Something was up.
Why? I asked, preferring to front the problem. Directness was not exactly a local trait of renown, and my host was startled. But he rallied quickly, as a good businessman should, and said that he would be willing to trade me the girl and his motorcycle for my motorcycle.
No Thru Road  Clement Salvadori p347
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 24, 2018, 08:59:11 AM
I weighed-up my position; I lived alone and had a mortgage I could just about pay each month as long as I didn't need to eat or pay any other bills. I commuted to work on yet another little MZ125 that I'd scraped together £80 to buy and was dirt cheap to run, but even so, I still struggled to find money for petrol. But what was worse, was that life was suddenly quite depressing. Something had to be done and it was obvious that nothing was going to change unless I took drastic action. I quit my job and started phoning courier companies to enquire about work as a despatch rider and then applied for one of the many credit cards, whose application forms regularly dropped through my letter box, encouraging anyone, however poor, to get themselves into further debt. The card arrived and I immediately spent £850 on an old Honda CX500. It was quite a gamble, this was money I didn't have and in my current state wasn't able to repay.
Luckily for me though, the gamble paid-off, and I started work as a self-employed despatch rider within a couple of days of getting my new bike. Better still, I got paid in cash, weekly, which got me out of trouble with bills for the short term and meant I could eat almost regularly.
Test Rider  Julian Amos  p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 25, 2018, 09:07:52 AM
Unless you're going for some adrenaline-fuelled world endurance to fill a week - Monday to Friday, with 2500 miles, and to keep it up week after week until you reach 30,000 miles is quite daunting! Breaking it down, to cover the 500 miles in a day you aim for an average of 50 mph for ten hours. Of course this isn't possible, because to average 50 mph you would have to do 100 mph for the same length of time you are standing still at traffic or filling up with petrol. It might be a bit easier if you'd got a windscreen, some doors, a hood or roof, perhaps even a heater, but with these luxurious provisions 500 miles a day everyday would still be exhausting. If you think about it, even the most basic old car becomes a lovely cosy way to travel long distances in comparison to a motorcycle during the winter months in Britain. I ended up on motorways a lot of the time trying to keep up about 80 mph to make up for 'down time' created by fuelling up and having five minutes here and there to try and get warm and ward off what seemed to be the ever-present possibility of hypothermia. I would do my best, which on a good day was 500 or even 550 miles, on an average day about 430 miles and on a bad day, about 380 miles.
Test Rider  Julian Amos  p39
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 26, 2018, 12:22:07 PM
Whatever, this sensitivity that increased in my own senses has certainly improved my capacity to understand what a  motorcycle is trying to tell me. The way the engine pulls through the rev range in different gears and how linear that sweep feels is a basic and maybe obvious starting point if you're looking at your own machine to get a handle on this. Then, there's the transient sweeps between those different sites, during accels and decels of different duration and speed. Concentrating on set speeds in different gears through those ranges too, especially in low gears at low rpm where, for instance, you might find yourself whilst crawling in slow moving traffic will show up imperfections in fuelling. Vibrations of varying degrees, as I mentioned a while ago travel through the foot pegs, handlebars, saddle and tank, and becoming familiar with these different types of 'rumble' takes years of experience. Everything from the most obvious bottom end bearing rumble through the pegs, to a little 'light' buzz in hard accels that tingle your finger tips and make the mirrors images 'buzz-out' momentarily are sometimes produced by a clutch, or a slightly harsher grind that could be an area that you can pinpoint within the driveline.
Test Rider  Julian Amos  pp60-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 27, 2018, 09:18:39 PM
Once, I remember riding into a very sudden snow storm in Shropshire that forced me to stop as the visibility instantly reached zero feet. There was no shelter available, not even a tree to get under or behind, and so I crouched down by the side of the bike trying to warm my sodden gloved hands on the steaming engine cases, and keep my head and body down out of the driving snow. I'd been riding that morning for about four hours when I found myself in this spot, and my entire body was now shaking uncontrollably from the extreme cold. Just about everything I was wearing was soaked through and the ambient temperature had reached around minus 6. With the wind chill taken into account with a bike travelling at just 30 mph, the temperature must have been around minus 25 or so. In these early days, when working as a road mileage test rider, if you didn't show willing and push yourself to get out and attempt to carry on, there was the threat that someone else would do it instead, you'd lose your mileage bike then and you'd find yourself out of work yet again.
Test Rider  Julian Amos  p67
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 28, 2018, 02:34:24 PM
The big square-paned windows looked out into the garden, and all four walls were covered in rows and rows of small framed watercolour paintings - all country views, I walked over to one wall to look at them and peered at the signature on the bottom corners, they simply read - Charles. They were all by Prince Charles and all were originals. I suppose this shouldn't have been surprising, considering where I was, but the sudden realisation of the situation came as a shock. I spent some time enjoying my privileged private exhibition, looking at each one in turn, then the door opened and Mark stepped in. "Would you like to come into the kitchen with the rest of us? Tea's up!" I followed him back up the hallway, past the door I'd come in through and on into the large kitchen. Two other chaps were there, and over a mug of tea I got an insight into the  behind-the-scenes life of a royal country house. One chap had been out to the cinema the night before with his own family and Prince Harry. Another was trying to get Harry's washing done before he returned to University the next day. The tea wasn't bad either and for the record, we drank from mugs - not bone china!
I returned to Highgrove several more times over the next couple years to pick up or drop off Prince William's bike, and was always bowled over by the way I was treated with politeness and trust, despite my scruffy riding kit.
Test Rider  Julian Amos  p92
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 29, 2018, 09:18:13 AM
After a few days in Melbourne acclimatising to the high temperature and prepping the bikes, we all headed off northwards towards the furnace known as central Australia. A day later we arrived at the small town of Mildura, and set up our rolling workshop in the back of the local Triumph dealers in the town. We were now on the edge of what seemed to me to be the proper outback. Mildura was a pleasant little town that just a week before we arrived had been witness to 120 degree heat. The locals had had shirts and car bumper stickers made up that stated, 'I survived 120 degrees!' The temperature was still way up over 100 degrees now though, and for the first time in my life I encountered the sensation of having to keep my helmet visor fixed permanently in the shut position whilst riding. The air, even when riding along at high speeds, was too hot to breathe. The sun's heat was relentless and combined with the heat generated by the bike's engines in such close proximity to the rider, it would be easy to start suffering from heat exhaustion quickly.
Test Rider  Julian Amos  p101
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 30, 2018, 10:23:53 AM
The bike I'd ridden to Spain was a pre-production Rocket 3. If you know this machine, you'll know that it's no shrinking violet, and during its development at this time, it hadn't been easy to keep such a huge and unusual machine unnoticed. It was a bit like trying to hide a baby elephant in your back garden. On several occasions whilst at petrol stations, a small crowd would gather to look at the bike, and I'd have to say what I usually said as a last resort - that I'd built it myself at home from bits of other bikes and a car engine! This ploy worked every time, amazingly, and thankfully I never found myself being quizzed by a proper engineer or someone who really knew what they were talking about. The Rocket 3 is a huge cruiser style motorcycle with a wonderfully torquey and massive 2.3 litre engine. Once fitted with a screen and panniers (a production version in this guise came out later, called the Rocket 3) the machine makes a comfortable, and very fast, long distance cruiser capable of blasting across entire swathes of the continent at high speed in a single day. Due to its prototype form, I was, of course, expected to try and keep it away from prying eyes which wasn't easy on a trip like this, with so many fuel stops and a couple of overnights en route. I was slightly stunned too, when I picked the machine up from the workshop, to find it was roughly hand painted a very bright banana yellow colour!
Test Rider  Julian Amos  p119
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 31, 2018, 11:47:20 AM
A couple of years later Howard Raymond Davies (HRD) was standing on a podium, having just won the 'Challenge Cup' at Caerphilly aboard another of the company's Sunbeams, when he heard that Archduke Franz Ferdinand had just been assassinated. Within a couple of months he volunteered to join the Royal Engineers where he served as a despatch rider, but got quickly fed up with this and applied for a transfer to the Royal Flying Corps, where he trained as a pilot. As was the norm for those First World War pilots, he got s shot down, but luckily survived but was taken prisoner. When the war finished he made his way back to Blighty and discovered that everyone had presumed he'd been killed in action and that an obituary had been published in the May 1st 1917 edition of 'Motor Cycling' magazine. He kept a copy of this obituary in his wallet as a bit of a laugh for the rest of his life. He was of course keen to race again, and by 1920 he found himself back at AJS, where he'd started all those years before as an apprentice, this time though, he was there to race their bikes, and in 1921 won the Senior TT at the Isle of Man, riding the company's big port 350.
Test Rider  Julian Amos  pp131-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 01, 2018, 10:18:47 AM
At home on that Friday night, now just two days before leaving, I sat scratching my head, looking at a map of the World spread out on the floor. The lounge and kitchen were full of my kit in various stages of packing, and sitting outside our cottage was the brand new Triumph Tiger XC - the build of which had just been completed that same afternoon. The engine wasn't even run-in, the odo showing just the 30 miles I had ridden the bike from the factory to my home, nervously going through a brief test of all the controls, engine 'tune' and handling. I couldn't help wondering if ever, in the history of adventure motorcycling, anybody anywhere had reached this stage of planning without actually knowing where they were about to be going, on a brand new bike that they'd barely ridden...
Test Rider  Julian Amos  p156
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 02, 2018, 02:09:50 PM
Everyone on the island gets involved in the Isle of Man TT and bikers are welcomed with open arms. The police even turn a blind eye to some 'safe speeding' - and don't mind a bit of larrikin behaviour as long as it doesn't get out of hand. The authorities recognise the huge financial benefit this event brings to the island and have a sensible attitude to allowing people to let off steam. They let everyone know what is and is not allowed and, in the main, people comply.
But when we arrive on the island there is an undercurrent of sadness and foreboding. Some of the racers seem subdued. We soon learn that last year's champ, Dave Jefferies, crashed into a stone wall during practice a couple of days earlier. There is no room for error here. Skidding across the narrow country road, Dave and his bike snapped off a telegraph pole before coming to a sudden halt at the wall. He died instantly. As they say here, everyone knows the risks and you take your chances. A journalist once said the racers have 'balls the size of watermelons'.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  p13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 03, 2018, 09:52:13 AM
Touring castles in the UK is a bit like visiting churches in Europe - you've seen one, you've seen them all. But then we find Doune Castle near Stirling. We walk into the ticket office and souvenir shop and are met by the guard. He produces two half coconuts from under the desk and does a very fine impersonation of a horse riding up to the castle wall. Then, in a very bad French accent, he says, "I wave my private parts in your direction." Briefly thinking we have walked into a lunatic asylum, we soon realise this is the castle where Monty Python and the Holy Grail was filmed. Before getting to see the castle proper, we have to browse through the photo album of the movie shoot and the guard tries to sell us a couple of bottles of Holy Grail Ale. This is when being on a motorbike has its advantages. "We have no room," is the answer whenever we are offered something we couldn't possibly want in our wildest dreams.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  pp34-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 04, 2018, 12:31:39 PM
The Eurotunnel is the way to travel. We ride the bike onto the platform and then onto the train. We just stand by the bike for about 30 minutes and then we are in France. When the doors open we ride straight out and onto the roads of Calais. The road is great and we arrive in Brugge without missing a beat. We find a square with lots of activity, but the problem is we don't know where we are.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 05, 2018, 01:07:31 PM
Pic du Midi de Bigorre, at 2872 metres, is the highest peak in the Pyrenees in this part of France. The road starts out tight and twisty and gets tighter and twistier the further we go into the national park. We hope that the higher we go the cooler it will get. We pass with ease cars as they wheeze up the steep hills, and we settle into a steady rhythm using the bike's low-down grunt to effortlessly overtake them. Occasionally, we come to villages and as we slow down the heat builds up and becomes almost intolerable. We battle on and the road gets so narrow that cars must stop and crawl past each other. In places it's only wide enough for a single car. I take care and hug my side of the road. Up here there are few safety rails. One slip off the paved surface would see you plummet hundreds of metres into oblivion. I slow to second gear and ensure I leave plenty of room for oncoming traffic around blind corners. At one point a car hurtles towards us on our side of the narrow road, the driver lighting a cigarette. I get closer to the edge and prepare to take evasive action as he sees me at the last minute and swerves violently back to his side of the road.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  pp69-70
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 06, 2018, 09:29:30 AM
At one point, we follow a tilt-tray tow truck down a steep hill. The driver touches his brakes and instantly goes sideways. Undoubtedly, there's something on the road, and the driver holds out his hand to warn me to go slowly. Down the hill there is a policeman standing on the side of the road. I immediately think it's another police check, but then see a semi-trailer on the side of the road and we smell diesel. That is a lethal combination - a diesel spill and a wet road. A car is approaching from behind too quickly. He brakes and instantly spears off the road and into an embankment, nearly taking out two cars chugging up the hill. The bike tyres want to go in two different directions at once. I'm down to walking pace and preparing to cop a slow-speed fall. We get through okay, to the amazement of the police officer and tow-truck driver.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 07, 2018, 08:59:11 AM
It is time to turn away from the coast and head inland to the Goreme Valley in Cappadocia. Coming down a hill, we see a Polis Trafik Kontrol point. We get waved in. We expect them to check our papers and the carnet for the bike and then wave us on. Not today. The very officious policeman tells us we were speeding.
"Do you know," he says in a very thick accent, "you were doing 87 kilometres?"
"But it is a 90-kilometre zone," Brian says.
"Yes, and you were doing 87 kilometres - that is a 64-million-700-thousand-lira fine."
"But it is a 90-kilometre zone."
"Yes, and you were doing 87 kilometres."
This conversation is getting us nowhere. Eventually we work out that motorcycles actually have to travel at 20 km/h less than the posted speed limit. This is the first we've heard of it. When we crossed the border from Greece, we were told the speed limits were 50 km/h in towns, 90 km/h on the roads and 120 on the freeways. Brian does his best to explain this, but the police just keep quoting the road rules. They are interested that he is a policeman in Australia, but don't see that as a reason tor leniency. There is no way we are going to get out of this one. After arguing the point to no effect, we hand over 65 million and don't get any change, but we do get a receipt. Lesson learned.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  pp138-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 08, 2018, 10:48:29 AM
The road is pretty bad and the Iranian drivers are even worse than those in Turkey. We ride through more dust storms and I have to wipe the grime off my visor so I can see. We ride over rutted and potholed roads, but worst of all are the kamikaze drivers. The reality of just how bloody awful these drivers are comes to us on a reasonably straight stretch of road at the bottom of a hill: car into truck, head on. The car is wedged under the truck and it is hard to imagine the people getting out of the car alive. If they did they would have had horrendous leg injuries. From the tyre marks, it is clear they were on the wrong side of the road. Apparently, 20,000 Iranians die on the roads each year. The drivers are often on the wrong side of the road and think nothing of forcing us to the very edge as they cruise along taking the whole road as their own. In the towns and cities, they just pull out in front of you without even looking.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  p158
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 09, 2018, 10:35:33 AM
"You should be safe from here," he says. "There is an army presence in the hills. They will watch over you. Be careful and make sure you are off the road by nightfall."
It doesn't take us long to find the 'army presence', but at first glance it is frightening. Brian spots it first: "Shit!" I feel his body stiffen against my chest.
"What? What?"
Brian tells me to look into the hills, and before long something glinting in the sunlight - a rifle. Before I have time to have a complete panic attack, I feel Brian's body relax. "It's an army sharpshooter," he says, pointing to a man hiding in the rocks.
Well, he and his mates aren't hiding too well. About every 500m we see sunlight glinting off firearms or the hat of a soldier partially hidden behind rocks high above the road. These are the sharpshooters protecting us as we make our way into Quetta.
The closer we get to the centre of Quetta, the busier the roads become. Donkey-drawn carts, push-bikes, motorbikes and cars vie for the restricted road space. We try to follow Peter and Dagmar, but it doesn't take long for us to get separated. Our saviour takes the form of a foreigner on a BMW GS Adventure, who leads us through the city to our hotel. We learn he is Andrew Fisher, a prison officer from Alice Springs.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  p184
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 10, 2018, 05:41:03 PM
An attempt to get cash from an ATM creates a real 'blonde' moment for me. I put my card into the machine and try to withdraw 15,000 rupees, but the machine refuses to give me the money. Then it won't give me the card back. I can't believe it.
Brian checks the machine for one of the false-card rorts and says everything seems okay. By now I am sobbing. Brian moves into control mode and uses the mobile given to us by Rohan in Pakistan to ring the emergency-assistance number on the machine. I am getting hysterical, telling the man on the other end that the machine not only has my card, it wouldn't give me any money. He assures me that is not possible.
"We are visitors in your country." I am starting to sound shrill. "This isn't good enough. It is going to ruin our holiday."
Twenty minutes later, a nice young man from the bank arrives to sort out the problem. He opens the machine and there is no card inside. He starts to pull the card reader apart and demonstrates with his card how this machine works. The card doesn't go all the way into the machine. It can't possibly take the card. "Are you sure you don't have your card?"
I check my wallet and, sure enough, there it is safely tucked away in its normal spot. I burst into tears again. We apologise and make our escape, leaving a grinning technician who is sure to tell the story of the idiot tourists.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  pp217-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 11, 2018, 01:16:54 PM
Tonight we have some uninvited guests in our room: frogs. They have taken up residence in the toilet and sink. Brian uses half a water bottle to scoop a frog out of the toilet. I use the toilet and when I flush I turn around and see another frog on the wall. Brian takes this one outside and washes his hands, then finds yet another frog on the bathroom wall. An entire frog family has moved into our loo!
We delay leaving Agonda as long as possible before heading to Saligao to meet Peter Baird, the Kiwi we met at the Horizons Unlimited meeting in England. It is hard to leave this paradise and our three days turn into five. Peter is staying in a 450-year-old Portuguese mansion with his bosses, the Poms running motorcycle tours around India. They have 16 Royal Enfields parked in their lounge and bats living in the roof. There is no running hot water or flushing toilets, but there's lots of atmosphere.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  pp231-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 12, 2018, 09:25:42 AM
Prem and Indra arrive armed with long bamboo poles and present us with one each. I can't help thinking that a gun would be a bit more useful than a stick against a wild animal. The safety briefing doesn't lessen our apprehension: "Don't turn your back on the tigers. If you see tigers, just stare at them and make a lot of noise. If you see an elephant, run like crazy. If you see a rhino climb a tree if there is one nearby. If not, find something big to stand behind."
I look across at Brian and wonder if he would be enough to hide behind. I don't have to speak. He knows what I am thinking and doesn't seem to appreciate it. Prem assures us that there shouldn't be any problems unless we have a chance encounter with an animal that neither the animal nor we were expecting.
Armed with our sticks and a lot of hope, we start down the track that disappears into the heavy fog.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  p246
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 13, 2018, 12:17:27 PM
The Bangkok cargo hall is frantic, with people running in all directions and crates of all sizes being carted around on forklifts. When we finally get to talk to a real customs official, he tells us they don't need to sign the carnet to prove we will export the bike. We just have to fill in a form promising not to sell the bike.
Our crate appears on the forklift and we are horrified to see that there is a hole punched through the side and the left side handlebar is sticking out. I gingerly break away some wood and am relieved to find no real damage, and the bike is still standing upright. A worker produces a claw hammer and proceeds to break open the crate. A crowd gathers on the other side of a fence. There's nothing like an audience in the hustle and bustle of a freight terminal to ensure you lose screws or drop things in your haste.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  pp272-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 14, 2018, 10:22:40 AM
We check with the bike shop and they let us know the part will arrive on the train at 7 p.m. We should come back at 8 p.m. to pick up the bike. We cross the railway line on our way back to the bike shop and hear the train's whistle. We hope the part is on it. Jiradet is at the station and when he comes back he holds the parcel high in the air triumphantly! His two mechanics have come back to work after their dinner to fit the part. Despite the fact they don't have the right tools, they fit it in 10 minutes. And the total price for all of this: nothing!
"Welcome to Thailand," is all Jiradet says.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  p291
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 15, 2018, 09:34:01 AM
There is just one piece of advice we have for anyone who wants to take a motorcycle or car into Singapore: don't. Our carnet has been enough paperwork to get the bike into every country we have entered and some countries haven't even bothered with it. That is not the case for Singapore and we don't discover it until we actually get to the border.
It's Sunday and the border is quiet. We get our passports stamped and no-one bothers about the bike, so we ride over the bridge to the Singapore border. Our entry visas are issued and stamped into our passports and a young woman comes out of an office and takes the carnet. She takes us into another office, where we have to pay a permit fee to bring the bike into the country. Then we are asked about our 'International Circulation Permit' and we don't have one. We didn't know we needed this, as we've never even heard of it.
We are happy to buy one. They don't sell them at the border. We have to go to the Automobile Association in Singapore for this. It's Sunday and the Automobile Association is closed. And we can't take the bike there anyway, because we don't have an International Circulation Permit.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  pp299-300
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 16, 2018, 12:47:07 PM
Now the inspector wants to destroy the wooden pallet. I've got no problem with this, but Qantas might. And no matter how many times I tell him, the inspector won't believe it is an Australian pallet and not a Singaporean one. I can't work out why it is my problem. He just doesn't seem to get it, so we leave him to argue the point with the Qantas officials.
The bike is delivered to us by forklift. If you ignore the broken frame, on this adventure the bike has suffered its most serious damage somewhere between being tied into the crate in Singapore and coming out of the cargo shed in Australia. The screen is broken and the supports for it are bent. It looks as thougn it's been rammed into something while on the forklift. I am a bit pissed off but decide to let it pass. I'm just glad to have the bike home. Now all we need are new tyres and we'll be on the road, heading south.
Two For The Road   Shirley Hardy-Rix & Brian Rix  pp310-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 17, 2018, 09:28:11 AM
"Friday and it's Day Four in the big brother household".
This big brother is the Canadian Border Security Agency, CBSA, and they are the ones who have my bike. I'm on first name terms with most of the staff in the office in Halifax, though they did get a superior to kick me out of the office yesterday.
"Please go home Sir, you can no longer stay here."
"But the closest thing that I have to a home is parked on the quayside and you won't let me near it."
This exchange came after I had been told that although it had already been four days, the process would take much longer because I needed to apply for Canadian number plates. I, yet again had to explain that I was just passing through Canada and their argument that all vehicles in Canada had Canadian plates was somewhat flawed given that there were three cars in the street outside that had United States plates.
Oh dear, it seems I'll never learn the consequences of challenging authority with the blindingly obvious. Sometimes there is just no room for rationale. Introduce that when you talk to a uniform and I find I'm either ejected or end up staying much longer than planned.
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  p26
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 18, 2018, 12:43:41 PM
When I quizzed him on Alaska (somewhere he goes most years) and the furry people-eater situation, he mentioned a motel where he sometimes stays, rather than camping. He just casually said that the motel cook had stepped outside for a smoke and they found most of the rest of his body next morning. You see, smoking kills! He said the diners were a might pissed off too that evening. On the plus side, Angela and Ian who I stayed with for a few days in Moncton, told me of a friend of theirs who camps most of the time he travels that way and has always come back, and I met a couple from British Columbia on a pair of KLR 650s who have experienced bears quite a lot in their travels with no major ill effects of the laceration kind. Apparently I shall become so used to seeing black bears that I won't let it interrupt a conversation. Well, we'll see about that.
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  p57
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 20, 2018, 09:50:34 AM
Now let's look at time zones, they were introduced by a Canadian after all, Sanford Fleming and if you had a name like that you too might find yourself sitting around on your own pondering things. I know they make a lot of sense and for the westbound motorcyclist they provide an extra hours riding every few days, but they are so arbitrary. A man decides, but the geographical line in the sand is so... false. OK, the concept I get, unlike a certain North American who couldn't understand why the Brits got up in the middle of the night... but I know it gets dark a certain time in the summer at a certain latitude and I almost navigate by that. Then, within a mile, all my reckoning is out the window. Now it's not quite as arbitrary when a political boundary is used for demarcation, after all that's every bit as random, but have any of you seen a map of North and South Dakota? There the time zone goes around villages and crosses the street, cuts diagonally through fields and neighbourhoods, in the same state.
"Should I nip round to Bob next door and borrow some sugar?"
"Good heavens no! You know they'll already be in their beds!"
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  pp107-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 21, 2018, 09:18:28 AM
An incredibly surprised solitary ranger told me that the nearest town, Cody, was another 60 miles away, but it was a couple of thousand feet lower. The snow and sleet eventually gave way to rain as darkness embraced me and I tried to keep the throttle pinned.
My fear, paranoia and hypothermia combined in the Shoshone gorges to conjure images of fantastical creatures. The rock columns and pinnacles, seen in a thousand westerns, with shapes and faces in them, towered above me, often shielding the final rays of sunlight. Their beauty and majesty would have been stunning at another time, but for now I needed civilisation lest I died, quite frankly.
It was then that my first deer incident caused me use all the road and more. This was becoming ludicrous, as wildlife took an age to register in a cold brain. I'm not entirely sure how I missed it, but barely 10 miles further my luck ran out when I clipped the third of three deer crossing. I knew it must have been there somewhere, the way the first two crossed something told me there were more, but the third went behind me and caught the pannier. I managed to stay upright and within two miles saw the lights of the most welcoming place I was yet to stay in. Garish neon spelled out 'restaurant and bar' and I couldn't have been happier.
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  p155
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 22, 2018, 09:50:35 AM
I know there are one or two things that need fixing, but they'll have to wait until such time my hands don't stick to the metal so I think that'll be California.
Remember the oil leak that developed on the way to Southampton? Well that is, or has become, a protective film that now coats every bit of engine, from the rocker cover to the sump. The slow front puncture is in fact a dodgy valve. Do you recall how old men used to do the spit test and look for bubbles, which as a kid you found revolting? Well I took that one stage further and having found the leak used the steel valve cap from the rear wheel and filled it with grease to make a seal. Just temporary, honest, but it's managed about 2000 km now so I'll see how long it'll last. The clutch is getting heavy, the lights are stuck on, one of the spotlight brackets has broken, one front indicator unit is held together with glue and a large amount of Obama's Hope which is en vogue and the front wheel bearings are so noisy and coarse now, I can hear them above the engine when I lean from the vertical.
Oh and the heated grips have become intermittent. They seem to stop working when it gets particularly cold.
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  p160
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 23, 2018, 02:52:38 PM
Leaving the rim of the gorge I had a funny old thing happen. I was enjoying the swinging nature of the rapidly descending road, when on one right hand corner- and I don't know how it happened, my right foot got pulled off the peg and stuck between the pannier and the road meaning that my boot was being slowly ground away. I could lean no further for the tightening bend, nor use the rear brake for balance. Oh how I laughed afterwards, when it transpired there was no truck coming the other way and there was just enough road to make the turn without barrelling off the side of the mountain.
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  pp169-170
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 24, 2018, 10:17:54 AM
"So what's your name then?" (note, I wasn't wearing my hat).
"Whaddaya wanna know for?"
"Oh just for the book about my travels."
"You're writing a book eh? Joe, bring me over that check for our Irish friend."
Yes, a $30 saving. It works! A pair of Bridgestone Trailwings fitted for just over 200 dollars. Compare that to my painful experience in Winnipeg. On a roll, I headed off to find chain and sprockets and a few odds and ends. This time the chaps at SF Moto threw in a free set of brake pads. Now I had a dilemma though. What do I do, what do I say? Do I take the freebie gratefully, or do I speak up?
"Aw thanks very much, that's really kind of you, but they're the wrong ones."
"What? That's what the book says."
"Well it's FA 213s or 208s that she takes" says I obsequiously as possible.
"Oh, alright then, I'm sure you must know that bike well by no now."
And that was it! Can you imagine telling a bike dealer in the UK that they are wrong?
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  p197
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 25, 2018, 12:43:56 PM
After we both posted some more things back home, (another 15lbs for Matt) which was terribly exciting for the lady in the tiny San Lorenzo post office, because she hadn't done international before, Matt announced he now had room to carry a spare tyre.
"Why?"
"Because your bike looks so cool and my bike doesn't. Everyone talks about your tyre. I need a tyre. Then I'll look like an adventurer."
"You don't you fool! You're doing it, you are an adventurer!"
"No, I gotta have a tyre too, it's hardcore"
"If you really want hardcore, you need a grill, over your headlight"
"You reckon?"
"No. Lets ride"
Playing in the mountains took us into New Mexico and up over Emory Pass and through Black Canyon, really great roads where Matt had his first ever footpeg scraping experience. He thought my two highside attempts were great when the usually sliding tyres gripped, jettisoning me out of the saddle, so I just said "Oh yeah, but  don't try them till you have more experience..."
Play it cool, he beats me at chess and pool all the time so it's only fair...
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  p220
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 26, 2018, 01:27:02 PM
Then I got to the construction zone. There were no cones, or lollipop ladies, no stop signs or diversions, just lots of heavy machinery in the mud trying to cut a road from the canyon walls and workers huddling around fires to keep warm. The smoke was hanging in the air between the pine trees, where the fog had lifted, but the going became properly stupid. The puddles were sometimes like trenches, so I adopted a "hope for the best" style of riding, as sometimes they were deeper than the bash plate, but the ever-falling altitude and slick surface meant that actually stopping wasn't really an option. I just plunged from one obstacle to the next, be it a fallen tree, semi-submerged in the mud, or a recently carved culvert. Then, perhaps carrying 15-20 mph, I got a big slide with the bars turned full lock, and held it, feet up for almost 5 yards, to the accompaniment of a huge cheer from one group of workers who were huddled round a fire ill-dressed for the cold.   I don't know  who divinely intervened for that moment, but I just sat there and held on.
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  p242
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 27, 2018, 09:08:05 AM
Having gone over some really nasty ones which were hidden in the shade of trees, I was trying to be ultra alert and not get caught out unnecessarily, when another unpainted obscured one appeared and I had to scrub off some speed. Braking hard I glanced in the mirror to see Jason and his big red BMW gaining impossibly quickly. 
I tried to crack open the throttle again but I was way too late and after the initial rear impact threw Peggy sideways picking the back end up into the air, I
collided with the tarmac and slid for an admirable distance.
It is because of that, that I'd like to recommend kevlar lined jeans. 'Proven to protect' or some such slogan, but let's just say it meant I could save all my bandages for another time. After everyone warned me about the Mexican drivers, it's the smiley Californians I should have been watching out for. With the poor, now reshapen left hand pannier tied on with ratchet straps, and the crash bars modified with locally sourced rocks to enable me to select gears, I limped on. Literally.
We did discuss the liability insurance he had bought at the border, and whether or not we could all get new bikes from the claim, and maybe some nicer hotel rooms. 
What really pisses me off though, is that he didn't fall off, and it was me that was expecting the impact! At least he bent all his crash bars and front fairing, so that's something. I think Matt felt left out.
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  pp279-280
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 28, 2018, 10:26:39 AM
Another prominent Human Rights and environmental campaigner, Dr Yuri Melini, survived an assassination attempt but was severely injured, just last September so it's still not wise to be too vocal in this part of the world, though change is gradual and much of it began in 1996 with the signing of a peace agreement between the government and the rebels. That first instrumental step was taken by the then President, Alvaro Arzu, who not surprisingly rides a motorbike. Don't all the best people? He rides a Suzuki B-King, and I know that because I met him and had a wee chat about all sorts, including good twisty roads to the coast and rough steep ones that climb the sides of volcanoes. I noticed his bike wasn't actually registered, but then it is the only one of its kind that I've seen, and given the electronic tracking device he had attached to his chest, I don't think it is really that necessary.
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  p309
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 01, 2018, 08:55:27 AM
"Buenos Dias senor! Bienvenue a Nicaragua. Passport por favor."
After a welcome handshake I gave the friendly smiling police officer my passport. What a nice man.
"Now you give me 300 Cordobas for the offence or I keep your passport."
"What offence?"
"I'll think of one."
Using my phrasebook and after much discussion, I was able to ascertain that because he had my passport and a gun, he was bound to win. Ten pounds poorer I was back on the road to Managua the capital, and when we were right in the middle of all the city traffic Matt's bike completely died, forcing me to hotwire it after diagnosing a dodgy ignition switch. After neatly fitting a spare light switch we were carrying, to act as a key, Matt just looked at me and said "Should I ask how you knew how to do that?"
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  pp339-340
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 02, 2018, 10:10:26 AM
It was here I met Jeremy Kroker's dad, like you do. Jeremy wrote a book a few years back about riding his KLR 650 down to Panama, which I read not long before I left home, and often recalled parts of, on this trip. Jeremy was with a friend who infuriated him by always leaving his indicator on and having innumerable near misses because of it. Everyday I watch Matt do similar and can't get him to change. It'll be terribly inconvenient if I have to watch him being brutally crushed by a truck,  not least because I'll have to carry the air compressor.
We camped on a beach next to a hotel thing run by a Californian with a strange business model. His beer was 1500 Cordobas instead of the usual 1000 and rather than sell any he said, "If you've got a problem with that, go down to town and buy your own in the shop for 700."
Which we duly did.
Prior to setting up our tents, we tried to get a room from him, but at 50% more than anyone similar in town his were all empty and he wouldn't take anything less.
The Hunt For Puerto del Faglioli  Paddy Tyson  p350
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 03, 2018, 09:26:06 PM
Charley
One weekend, Sean's son Jason came to visit. Jason was quite a bit older than me and spent most of his stay forcing me to push him up and down the drive on a little monkey bike. Eventually, long after I had got the bike started and Jason had spent a long time riding it around the farm, he let me have a go. I promptly fell off, but that one moment, that twist of the grip, the roar of the engine, the smell of the exhaust and the petrol and the thrill of the speed was enough. I was hooked. I pestered my parents to indulge my nascent passion. Before long I'd persuaded them to let me buy a motorbike, a Yamaha 100 miniature trials bike that I've kept to this day and which I bought with my earnings as a featured extra in The Great Train Robbery. It was fabulous.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  p7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 04, 2018, 03:08:25 PM
Ewan
My father organised a wee red Honda 50cc and we headed off to a field that belonged to a family friend. After the kid had a go, they asked me if I wanted a ride. Of course I did. I clambered on and shot off. It was just a twist and go, and I went all over the field. I thought it was just the best thing. I loved the smell of it, the sound of it, the look of it, the rush of it, the high-pitched screaming of the engine. Best of all, there was a Land-Rover parked next to two large loads of straw bales with about a metre and a half between them. I knew that from where the adults were standing it looked as if there was no distance between them. Just one large heap of straw. I thought I would have a go. I came racing towards the adults, shot right through the gap in the straw bales, thrilled to hear the adults scream and elated that it had frightened them witless. It was my first time on a motorbike and I wanted more.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  p11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 05, 2018, 01:32:25 PM
Charley
Even I was pleased we'd chosen the BMWs. We'd covered almost a thousand miles in three days and we didn't feel physically tired. My bum didn't hurt, my muscles didn't ache. If we'd covered that many miles on a sports bike, I'd have been pole-axed by now. Everything would hurt. The Beamers were a good choice, but they were still scary full of petrol. Really scary when you got on with a full tank.
Although the BMW made few physical demands, the riding was mentally exhausting and the trek through the suburbs of Prague dragged on like the final hours of a long-haul flight. The last minutes ticked by ever so slowly, until we found ourselves crossing an ornate road bridge into the city, a magnificent view of the spires of Prague spanning the opposite riverbank and on a hill above us a massive monument with a ticking arm. And all of it washed in the light from the blood-red sun. It was a stunning entrance.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  p60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 06, 2018, 09:15:08 AM
Ewan
I loved every drawn-out minute of the negotiations. They fascinated me. And while Charley and David bargained with the officials, I watched a big old black Mercedes with darkened windows draw up at the border. The door opened and a man in a leather jacket, slacks and black leather shoes stepped out. Gaunt and narrow, with a cigarette pointing straight out of his mouth, he looked like a weasel. He was the hardest, most frightening man I'd ever seen. Skinny and weedy, but ball-shrivelling scary. He walked towards me, looked at the bikes with contempt, his cigarette wiggling slightly in his mouth, turned on his heels and walked back to the border crossing. The car's side window dropped down. Another guy looked out. He was the second most frightening person I'd ever seen. Something in their faces made me feel that killing somebody would mean absolutely nothing to them. To them, the act would just be an irritation.
The weasel-like man collected his passport and climbed back into the Mercedes. Just before he sunk into his seat, he turned round and gave the soldier, at whose beck and call we had been all day, such a telling-off. A complete dressing down. Really unpleasant. And the soldier upon whom we had been fawning all day suddenly looked like a little schoolboy. Head dropped, he looked frightened and subservient. The hard man with the cigarette clicked his car door shut and drove off. Everyone who had seen the incident sighed with relief. Totally scary men.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  p87
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 07, 2018, 11:42:46 AM
Ewan
The room reverberated with a twang as the butt of the gun snapped into place, a sound I will never forget. Grinning wildly, Igor cocked the machine gun, shouted "Please! Please!" and squeezed the trigger. I felt my guts churn. The gun clicked. The chamber, as far as I could tell, was empty. Or was that normal for a gun?  Would the bullet follow with the next click?
"Welcome! Welcome!" Igor boomed. We all laughed nervously as Igor delighted in the sheer thrill of the spectacle. "Here!"
And then I found myself with the machine gun in my hands. Sergey, who was sitting on my right, gently took it from me, glanced in the magazine and peered down the barrel, and, satisfied they were empty, handed it back.
"Oh yeah... oh yeah... made in Russia... nice... that's a nice gun," I said, stuck for words. After all, what do you say to someone who's just come downstairs brandishing a Kalashnikov?
Pap! Pap! Pap! Pap! Four gunshots cracked in the garage just outside the kitchen door, the garage that Charley had entered less than a minute earlier. "Oh my God," I whispered. I looked at David. He was as white as a sheet. Not wanting to believe anything had happened to Charley, my first reaction was to assume there was an innocent explanation. Knowing I mustn't be seen to lose my cool, and telling myself Charley would be all right, I wandered as casually as I could out to the garage.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  pp122-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 08, 2018, 09:06:20 AM
Charley
"You!" one of the guards said to me. "You. Do this!" He revved an imaginary motorbike and lifted his hands. He wanted a wheelie. I was only too happy to oblige. I climbed on to my bike and hoicked a little wheelie on the tarmac in front of the guards' huts.
"No! Here!" the guard said, pointing through the border. I couldn't believe it. A member of one of the world's most uptight bureaucracies wanted me to wheelie across his nation's frontier. I swung the bike around, waved to the guards to clear the area close to the barrier and let rip. By the time I reached Russian soil, my front wheel was 3 feet in the air and I was doing 40mph. I banged the front wheel back down on the ground and looked back. One of the border guards was waving manically.  Then he blew his whistle. Shit, I thought, now you've really blown it, Charley.
The guard beckoned me to come back to the barrier. Slowly I rolled towards him, expecting to be torn from my bike and dragged into a dirty office for, at best, a severe dressing down.
"Again!" he said, smiling broadly and holding up his camera.  He'd missed the shot and wanted another chance to take a picture.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  pp131-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 09, 2018, 08:41:05 AM
Ewan
While Claudio filmed the family watching television in their front room, Charley and I unrolled our sleeping bags on the floor.
"I'm going to need earplugs because of your snoring," said Charley.
"And I'm going to need a clothes peg on my nose because of your feet," I replied.
In the front room, the policeman introduced us to his family. His wife was putting their three-month-old baby to bed. We watched her swaddle the baby in white  cotton, put a dummy in its mouth and strap it into a white cot to make sure it didn't fall on to the concrete floor in the night. In one corner, a television blared.
"Hey, look at this!" Claudio called out. "It's you two." There on Kazakh television was a shot of Charley and me bumping along the road that day. It cut to me singing in Moulin Rouge, then a scene from Star Wars. The policeman's family gave us a quizzical look. I could tell what they were thinking: What have we got here? We shrugged and smiled. They pointed at the screen and then at us. We nodded. It didn't feel as awkward as I thought it might. It seemed quite natural.  We were going around the world, we were in their house and we were on television. It was as straightforward as that.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  pp156-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 11, 2018, 06:09:08 PM
Ewan
We'd just finished shaking hands and were climbing back on our bikes when a young guy on a Ural motorcycle rode up. Dressed in leather jacket, jeans, shades and a Stars and Stripes bandana with a star positioned smack in the middle of his forehead, he looked like a real greaser biker. The bike, which was belching black smoke, had been fitted with high handlebars, like a chopper. As he came to a stop, he raised his right hand, gave us the finger, jumped off the Ural, relying on a bystander to grab it instead of using the side stand, and whipped out a camera. It was a professional paparazzi camera, the type I'd seen too many times before, with a long, fast lens. He hosed us down with the camera, laughing as he did it. Charley and I jumped on our bikes and rode off. The paparazzo gave chase, riding down the street behind us. Pulling level with Charley, he let go of his handlebars and snatched his camera out of a holster on the side of the bike. Firing off another couple of dozen shots, he shouted "Is good, is good, is good," then zoomed off. We had to admire his style.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  pp175-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 12, 2018, 09:08:57 AM
Ewan
I immediately knew what to do with them. The nomad had a rifle on his back and probably often had to watch out for wolves, so I handed him my binoculars, letting him look through them at the mountains. Turning slowly, he told us the name of all the mountains he could see. Pointing at a mountain in the far distance, he made it clear that it was on the other side of the lake and that we would be back on the main road by the time we reached it. The mountain was still a long way off, but it was a relief to see the end in sight and I thanked him. He put the binoculars back in their case and handed them to me.
"No," I said. "I want you to have them." With both hands, I pushed the binoculars towards him. "You'll make better use of them than I ever will."
He looked unsure. Then he smiled broadly and took them, making a little sign of blessing and thanking me. It was a lovely, spontaneous moment. I was struck by the beauty of this man's life and it felt really nice to give a present to somebody who lived at the top of a mountain, on a horse, sauntering along watching his camels graze and looking at the mountains, all of whose names he knew. He was so at home in his surroundings and so friendly to us, and at that moment I fell in love with him and the mountains and Mongolia.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  p202
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 13, 2018, 09:21:24 AM
Charley
Twenty-three hours after we boarded the train, the door to the boxcar swung open and we found ourselves in Skovorodino. There was the same 5 to 6 foot drop as in Chita, only this time there was no one to help us down with our bikes. Our Uzbek companions would have been able to help us, but they couldn't show their faces in the station. The train stopped for about ten minutes, so we had to move fast. I grabbed a length of wood from the boxcar and carried it to the door, but it was too  thin to take the weight of the bikes. Ewan jumped out of the wagon with Claudio and ran over to a pile of rubbish. They came back with a board, but that wasn't long enough. We were running out of time. Panicking, I thought we might have to drop the bikes off and take our chances. I shouted, "The board might not be long enough, but maybe it's sufficiently wide. Throw it up here!"
Ewan and Claudio propped the plank against the wagon. It sloped at more than 45 degrees but it would have to do. We didn't have much choice. With the help of the Uzbeks, I wheeled my BMW to the door and pushed the front wheel out of the wagon so that it was resting on its belly pan. While the Uzbeks lifted up the back of the bike, I grabbed the handles to skid it down the board. The hydraulic brakes barely worked without the engine ticking over. I teetered beside it, squeezing the brakes as hard as I could get some grip on it, and tried to wheel it slowly down the hairy slope. It was a close thing, but I managed to get my bike down without losing control. I eased Claudio's bike down the ramp, then Ewan's. We'd done it. We had accomplished what we thought would be impossible. What a triumph to have made it from Chita to Skovorodino without damaging our bikes! A part of me felt slightly guilty that we hadn't ridden the road from Chita, but that regret was heavily outweighed by the thrilling experience on the train. And to make the victory even sweeter, we were ahead of schedule for the first time, by four days.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  pp251-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 14, 2018, 09:23:14 AM
Ewan
Charley put his hazard lights on. Riding at about 60mph, I reached forward to put my hazard lights on too. There was a screech of tyres and then the bike went completely out of control. It happened so fast, I don't know which came first.
Charley said afterwards that he saw it all in his wing mirrors. "Out of nowhere, a red car just whammed into the back of you," he said afterwards. "Your front wheel went straight up in the air, almost vertical, then slammed down on the road. You were all over the place, your handlebars weaving from right to left to right to left. Somehow, you managed to stay on and come to a stop."
All I could remember was a bang, suddenly being out of control, seeing a big grass ditch about 6 feet deep to my left and thinking I was going to topple into it. I'm not going on the grass, I'm not going on the grass, I repeated to myself and managed to pull the bike round. The next thing I noticed was that my bike was still running after being smashed in the tail end, that I was still on it and that it was riding straight and true.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  p284
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 15, 2018, 10:27:26 AM
Ewan
By the next morning, however, I was focused again on the journey. Eating breakfast with Eve, I felt my bike beckoning. I was terribly anxious to go and get it sorted for the very last time. It felt like Christmas Day or some other big event. From the moment I'd woken up, there had been a sense of something quite special about the day. As we sat eating breakfast, I turned to Eve. "Look," I said. "I'm just going to have to go and pack my bike."
"All right, go and be with your bike instead of me," Eve joked. And having not seen my wife for nearly four months, I left her sitting at the breakfast table on her own, so that I could head upstairs and sort my bags out. My bike had temporarily become third party in my marriage and I needed to honour an appointment with her.
Long Way Round   Ewan Mc Gregor and Charley Boorman  p298
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 16, 2018, 07:33:52 AM
But you need to use that word "normal" warily if you're talking about bikes and bikers. A normal person looks at a motorcycle, appreciates in an instant that the machine's natural resting position is on its side, and concludes that no one in his or her right mind would ever want to be aboard such a contraption. It will go to ground as hard and fast as it can, taking you with it. I conclude, therefore, that anyone who knows that obvious fact and yet rides anyway is by definition abnormal.
Surviving such grim odds, a counter-theory has it, is a positive bio-feedback mechanism of the first order. To ride 1,000' in a straight-line safely is an actual feat in the Herculean sense. To do so you've had to coordinate each of the five senses and all four extremities in perfect coordination. If you make it, you're awash in endorphins. The hero's medal is yours. If you don't make it, the sport wasn't for you. Here's a band aid, or a ventilator.
Robert Higdon  Riding South Series  p#06   http://ironbutt.com/higdon (http://ironbutt.com/higdon)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 17, 2018, 11:40:29 AM
My guardian angel is another superstition of the road. Over the years I'd been involved in many disasters. I'd got away from them with wonderfully positive things happening as a direct result, so I knew it was more than just plain luck that had kept me alive. I'd been shot at twice, arrested, jailed, hit by a van and suffered dysentery, malaria and dengue fever. My bike had nearly blown up with me sitting on it, and I'd survived an accident that broke seventeen bones in my body and filled my eyes with broken glass. I'd also managed to slip three discs in my back, which was both agonising and debilitating at the time. I suppose that lot doesn't sound very lucky, but the question for me in the end was always, could I still ride my bike, and therefore carry on with the adventure? So far, I had always been able to, so I had to have guardian angel didn't I?
From Totillas To Totems   Sam Manicom  p22
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 18, 2018, 11:52:58 AM
I'd not forgotten travelling in Australia though. It's a huge country covering many latitudes, and as a result the 'in season' times for fruit and vegetables would keep happening as I rode. That meant there was always going to be cheap but good food available. I ate well so long as I didn't mind eating lots of whatever was on seasonal offer. Using bulk-bought pasta or rice as a base, I could always conjure up a sauce of some sort to go on top. I did get a bit tired of eating green cabbage for a while, but when I was near a fishing port there was always plenty of interesting food to be had.
Sometimes I'd not even had to pay to eat in Australia. Many of the jobs I'd done were paid in food and with somewhere safe to sleep. Perhaps we'd be able to do the same sort of thing in the USA. I didn't mind the thought of this. Even though being paid cash for labour was very nice, frequently a job was simply fun because it gave me a chance to do work that I'd never done before. I learnt a lot and by this time had had over thirty different jobs.
From Totillas To Totems   Sam Manicom  p35
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 19, 2018, 06:57:19 PM
But borders apparently make a difference. Even in these times of international travel, the driving styles of truck drivers seemed to change from one country to the next. The only thing that their driving style seemed to have in common was the desire to get 'there' wherever 'there' might be.
In India, trucks and buses are the kings of the road and you just have to get out of their way. If you don't, you end up as a grille ornament and the drivers won't care a jot. They are on a mission and if fate has decreed that you are going to end up as an addition to the flamboyant decorations on their trucks, so be it. In Colombia the truck drivers seemed to have an amazing ability. As soon as they climbed behind the steering wheel of their 18-wheelers, they became trainee grand prix drivers. Overtaking on corners? Not a problem. On the brow of a hill? Why on earth not? Overtaking a vehicle that's driving a kilometre an hour slower? No problem, even if it takes twenty minutes and you send oncoming traffic scuttling for the roadside bushes as you do it. It's a pride thing. In Australia, the giant Road Trains wouldn't even notice if they hit you. Those guys blast across the outback on steroidal autopilot in trucks towing over a hundred tons in three or four trailers in a vehicle over 50 metres long. On a bike, to them, you'd just be another bump in the road. But here in Mexico, what on earth was going on?
From Totillas To Totems   Sam Manicom  pp60-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 20, 2018, 04:25:34 PM
Now my turn. I copied Birgit's, see-round-the-truck weave, and crashed into a pothole, front wheel slipping sickeningly on the gravel that had been thrown out of it. I'd been too close to the back of the truck to see it. I hung on tight and carried on trying to peek around the trucks. The truck in front changed down a gear with a jolt that closed the gap between us within a second. Too close! I'd had enough of this. With my headlight on full beam and my thumb on the horn I pulled out as fast as Libby's engine would let me, just as the road took a dip downwards. The extra burst of speed that gave me was enough to help me down the side of the trucks. I'd almost made it when one of the hated 4x4s shot into view like an evil black tank. It made no attempt whatsoever to make room for me and I was sure I'd had it. It didn't slow down and I swear it actually got faster. The thing was heading straight for me. Now I knew I'd had it.
Then luck took over. The first truck hit the next rise and changed down as he did so, and this allowed me a millisecond to get past. Made it! The 4x4 shot past as if this was just another day on their road.
From Totillas To Totems   Sam Manicom  p74
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 21, 2018, 10:59:00 AM
In California
As with anywhere else, if in doubt, talk. It's usually a good rule. I approached the booth. The pasty-faced and heavily overweight attendant staggered
backwards out of his chair and shrank away from me as I loomed, dust-covered and leather-jacketed in front of him. The road-shocked, got-to-have-fuel, look in my eyes probably made the situation worse. If he could have backed any further away from me he would have. I tapped on the window - I might as well have shot at it with an AK47! He cringed as I yelled through the glass at him, "Hello, I need petrol. Can I pay with cash?" His eyes widened and it was only then that I realised that he must have forgotten to turn on his speaker system. Instead of understanding my words he was just watching my facial expression as I mouthed words of desperation at him. With hindsight, I must have looked like an escapee from a bikers' lunatic asylum. And anyway, did he know what the lip movements for the word petrol were anyway? The situation was getting out of hand.
Rule two, if in doubt think 'friendly' and smile, use sign language and show money. A smile on its own might have looked evil, but flashing the cash seemed to tone things down a bit. Then I thought, he probably thinks I'm shouting "Gimme da money!" at him. But the money flashing worked.
From Totillas To Totems   Sam Manicom  pp106-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 22, 2018, 12:21:40 PM
I loved each opportunity to take the bike onto the dirt tracks. I loved the mind-teases the gravel and sand played with me.
I liked the fact that there was no way I could ride on 'autopilot' and my thoughts could only be on what the track was going to try to make Libby do next. I got a real buzz when something unexpected happened and I had to react without thinking. It might be a patch of soft sand or mud that suddenly had the back tyre fishtailing and scrabbling for grip. I always got a zap of adrenaline at those heart-stopping moments when the bike was almost at the point of disaster and then, yet again, its momentum, balance and power kicked in to carry me to safety. I also had a real sense of satisfaction when I emerged from the other side of each of these moments with the realisation that I'd survived on intuition. The bike and I had dealt with the hazard almost as one being. I'd learnt a bit over the years, but I've never forgotten the fear with which I rode my first countries through Africa.
From Totillas To Totems   Sam Manicom  p151
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 23, 2018, 03:44:16 PM
Some weeks it felt as if she was keeping the points and condenser manufacturing industry alive. No one seemed to be able to work out what was causing the problem. We had run out of options and knew that Chris was going to be able to make or break the situation for us. It really wasn't fun for Birgit to have to ride never knowing when she was going to lose power.
Chris listened to the problem, listened to the bike, rode it round the block and then started to work on it. "Your backing plate is bent," he said. "If that isn't flat then you'll keep on burning points out. I have one in reasonable condition somewhere." It did the trick and in payment for the part, and a replacement mirror for one of Sir Henry's which had lost its ability to reflect, we helped Chris and Rebecca by tiling their bathroom. While I finished that off, Birgit painted the walls in their separate loo. A good trade all round, except I wasn't as sure as Birgit was about the deep purple colour chosen for the loo walls.
From Totillas To Totems   Sam Manicom  p180
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 24, 2018, 06:43:47 PM
We also managed to replace the thermos that had got broken months before in Baja California. We'd missed being able to wake up to a cup of coffee and also stop along the way for a hot drink. But new thermos flasks were just too expensive on our meagre budget. We were mooching around one of the thrift shops when the assistant, an elderly white-haired lady called Muriel, came across and asked, "Anything ah can help you people with?" This was said with such a kindly voice that we said, "Well, yes, you don't happen to have any thermos flasks do you?" and explained why. "No dear, ah don't, but leave it with me, I can look through the stock. Where are y'all staying?" To our surprise, about three hours later Muriel turned up at the showground with a choice of three flasks for us to look at. We chose the 2-pint builder's flask that was made out of aluminium and had thick protective rubber rings around its skin. That would do nicely. From that moment on, each coffee was started with a toast to Muriel. I've always wondered if she went home and pulled the selection of thermos flasks out of her own cupboard. It wouldn't have surprised me. Thanks to her thoughtful effort on our behalf she'd improved the quality of our travelling life and in the months to come that thermos would be a lifesaver.
From Totillas To Totems   Sam Manicom  p189
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 25, 2018, 04:41:53 PM
At times we had just five metres of visibility and before long everything we owned was wet. On days like these I really 'love' biking (not!) but at least the BMs were now cleaner than they'd been for weeks. As usual, there was an 'up' side.
Birgit's bike really needed a wash after a bizarre incident at the petrol station in the Banff National Park where we'd stopped to fill up before setting off to explore the mountains and lakes within the park. She put the gas pump nozzle into her tank, as you do, and pulled the lever. All well and good until the tank was full and the lever jammed open. Within seconds fuel was shooting out over the sides of the bike, soaking her hot engine and splashing her enthusiastically as it did so. The attendant came rushing out, grabbed the nozzle from her and banged it, still shooting fuel, onto the ground. The flow stopped immediately. The attendant looked at Birgit and said in a very matter of fact voice, "Does that all the time darn it," and left her standing there in the middle of a lake of petrol. Fortunately, no one was smoking!
From Totillas To Totems   Sam Manicom  p228
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 26, 2018, 02:00:03 PM
A guy walked over to us and said, "You two are the travellers aren't you?" He was a short man with a bulging waist. Between the open front of his jacket we could see that he had a shirt with two buttons missing and at some time he'd collected a food stain down it. His shoes were battered and his trousers didn't look as if they'd seen an iron since they were bought. I was a little suspicious of him but had thought to myself, "Well, he's not going to be too much trouble if he looks like this."
The he said, "I like to get the chance to talk with unusual people."
As we talked we had no idea who he was, but Dave put us right at the end of the day. The guy was a local millionaire. He ran a large construction company and had an unusual hobby. He collected military vehicles. "Bill has a warehouse full of tanks, jeeps, a half-track and he's just bought a MiG fighter jet. He's taking lessons so he can learn to fly the thing." Books and covers.
From Totillas To Totems   Sam Manicom  p242
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 31, 2018, 05:18:19 PM
When I take a big trip, like a three-month drive across China, Pakistan, and India, the best way to go is by motorcycle. You see sights and smell the countryside in a way you can't from inside the box of a car. You're right out there in it, a part of it. You feel it, see it, taste it, hear it, and smell it all. It's total freedom. For most travellers the journey is a means to an end. When you go by bike, the travel is an end in itself. You ride through places you've never been, experience it all, meet new people, have an adventure. Things don't get much better than this.
I wanted a long, long trip, one that would wipe the slate clean for I still read The Wall Street Journal and the Financial Times, and I wanted to wean myself away from the investment business. I wanted a change of life, a watershed, something that would mark a new beginning for the rest of my life. I didn't know what I would do when I got back, but I wanted it to be different. I figured a 65,000-mile ride around the world ought to be watershed enough.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 01, 2018, 11:46:59 AM
It was Saturday afternoon when we arrived in the tiny village of thatch-roofed stone cottages and haystacks, its lush green slopes topping slate-gray cliffs. The post office was closed. We knocked on the door anyway. It turned out that the postmistress lived there— just as post-office officials sometimes did back in Alabama when I was a child. We told her we were travelling around the world and wanted to prove we had been here in Dunquin at the start. Ruddy faced, sixty, and plump, Mrs. Campion reminded me of dozens of Alabama churchwomen, pillars of their communities, who had clucked approvingly as I'd served as an acolyte in the Episcopal church.
Would she sell us some postcards, then postmark and date them?
She laughed with Irish delight at the whole absurd idea and invited us in for a cup of tea. She signed the cards, then a Gaelic student who was there signed them, and then we signed them, and then she stamped them. It was like a party. The official start!
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  pp16-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 02, 2018, 09:35:33 AM
On the road to Hami Tabith's bike developed a hole in its piston. This bike had done everything to us but lie down and die, and I had the feeling that that was near. It was a hole the size of a dime, and here we were in a country as large as the United States without a single dealer who sold BMW parts.
We threw her bike into the back of a truck we flagged down, hauled it into Hami, and began asking endless questions. Finally we were lucky enough to find a mechanic, who stayed up till four-thirty in the morning welding the hole. It had to be done carefully, with Tabitha supervising the work, built up thin layer by thin layer so it wouldn't blow out at a critical time. Here was where it really paid to have brought along a trained mechanic, someone who understood what she was doing. We didn't know if it would work, but there was no way to get a spare BMW part into the middle of the Taklamakan Desert. This is the kind of repair you make in the backwoods of China, Africa, and South America. It would cause a factory-certified mechanic to shudder.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p64
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 03, 2018, 09:44:03 AM
This poster announced the pending execution of two criminals. "What had they done?" I asked.
Brandishing long pig knives, said Mr. Li, these men in their late twenties had broken into a widow's house and robbed and injured her. They had been caught, had been found guilty, and were sentenced to die.
"Why the posters?" I asked. "Would there be a public execution?"
"No."
"How would it be done?"
With a pistol shot. Unless the robbers wanted a more brutal form of death, they or their families would buy the two bullets with which the police would execute them.
The police assigned the task would drive them around until a suitable burial site was found, at which point the criminals would be given the task of digging their own graves. There would be no coffins. Once their graves were dug, the bullets they had purchased would make a swift end of them. In contrast to the bold black ideograms on the white paper was a red check in the poster's bottom right-hand corner.
"What's that for?" I asked.
"It means the execution was carried out," whispered my informant.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p77
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 04, 2018, 10:50:34 AM
I was certain, the customs officers were going to tell us they were closing and that tomorrow was a holiday, come back Tuesday.
These civil servants, however, stuck with the job of processing us through till they finished, even though it took an hour or so of overtime. They presented us with a bill for the extra time, but I was delighted to pay and finish the hassle. If only border officials and bureaucrats in other parts of the world had the same can-do attitude! This is one reason Japanese are rich.
Grinning from ear to ear like fools, Tabitha and I drove to the Imperial Hotel in downtown Tokyo, across from the Imperial Palace. We pulled right up to the lobby- motorcycles muddy, spare tires hanging off our rear ends, fairings busted- and nobody batted an eye. Once we were in the sumptuous room, we were beside ourselves with disbelief and joy.
On the road we often had been immersed in practical problems: how to get across the next border, what the road ahead was like, where to stay, would there be gas in the next town, could we buy tires, the logistics of it all. Although travelling through exotic locales had often made us gape with astonishment, we hadn't awoken every single day and thrilled to our new location. But now that we had an interlude in a first-class hotel room in a First World country, we sank back and realized what we had just done.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p91
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 05, 2018, 09:06:02 AM
True to what we'd been told, the paved road out to Khabarovsk quickly turned into gravel- big, baseball-sized stones on which it was almost impossible to ride. Afraid we'd go down, we couldn't drive fast. At such a slow speed, when our wheels hit a grapefruit-sized boulder, the bikes would try to spin out of our hands and push us over. Driving was a constant battle with the road. Every fifty or seventy-five miles Tabitha fell over and I'd get off to help her. I got through this unscathed, but she again became ready to give up.
She might now have ten thousand miles of motorcycling experience, but very few motorcyclists had experienced conditions like these! Seduced by the new bike, she had come from Japan against her better judgment and her heart wasn't in it. The road was just too terrible, the thousands of miles ahead too great. "Damn it," said Tabitha, cranking up her bike after her dozenth spill, "I'm going home."
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  pp113-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 06, 2018, 09:36:27 AM
For the equivalent of twenty-five dollars he sold us the right to ride a freight train westward, to have a nine-by-forty-four-foot flatcar to ourselves.
"What about food?" Tabitha asked. "Water?"
"He says we'll only be on it a few hours."
The yardmen helped us load and tie down the bikes. We had the last car on a seventy-car freight train. What a hoot! We were glad the road had ended. Hopping a flatcar is to railroading what motorcycling is to motoring: roughing it. The rail-yard crews in the scattered crossings through which we passed were stunned to see Westerners and motorcycles on a flatcar.
Tabitha was glad for the respite, and I too, chuckled with delight. The wind blew in our hair, the breathtaking Siberian forests, fields, and hills sailed by, and the clouds presented their dazzling aerial stunts. This glorious ride could never happen at any price in the United States.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p131
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 08, 2018, 07:46:18 PM
At one gas station, Olga, the lady attendant, said in broken English, "Look, I only can sell ninety-three to police or ambulance drivers."
"Yes, but we have to have ninety-three," I said, pointing at the seventy-four sign and crossing my two index fingers. In Russia, this all-purpose gesture means nyet- "I can't do it," "No way," or "Broken". I went on to lay my usual rap on her in sign language and simple English, using the map of the world to show our journey.
Hoping she could follow me, I said we had legitimate visas and that we had to have the right gas for these bikes or stay here forever.
Olga was firm. "I tell you, it is law. I no give good gas to nobody but police and ambulance drivers."
"I know we're an inconvenience," I said, "but our bikes must have ninety-three octane. By the way, do you like Western cigarettes? We don't need this carton of Marlboros."
Now 0lga was adamant. "Don't you listen?" she shouted, drawing herself up to her full formidable height. "Don't you hear? I tell you two times already. I no give good gas to nobody except police, ambulance drivers, and American travelers driving motorcycles!"
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p143
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 09, 2018, 01:00:25 PM
At the BMW dealership in Berlin the mechanics were agog at how much damage we'd done to the bikes. The bikes looked as if they'd been through a war, banged up, with jerryrigged parts, fork seals gone, mud in every part, loose wiring, wobbly brakes, beat-up tires. They put a new crankcase in mine, and the head bearings were blown too.
We explained that these were the wrong bikes for the trip we'd just taken, that we'd needed cross-country bikes, their GS model, which had higher wheels and fenders and stronger shock absorbers. As it happened, both of our bikes were under their original warranties. BMW had never assumed they were warranting such hard riding, but with a smile the BMW executives said they would honor them. So they proceeded to rebuild the bikes, giving us thousands of dollars of repairwork in what seemed to be a salute to our trans-Siberian journey.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p168
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 10, 2018, 06:48:16 PM
Still looking for someone to carry extra provisions, we drove out to the local campsite. We moved from truck to Land Rover, asking who was going south, who would carry gear and supplies for a few dollars.
We met a French graduate student called Pierre who was going our way and needed extra cash. We'd form a partnership. In return for our paying his expenses, he was delighted to carry our tents, spare tires, water cans, and fuel cans in a battered pickup truck whose grill and lights were shielded by steel bull bars. His pockmarked face had a ready smile, and he seemed charming and civilized. He would make a fine travelling companion.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p187
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 11, 2018, 12:31:09 PM
We drove by a building that I thought was a school.
"No," said Jean, "it's a match factory. It's fully staffed, but it hasn't produced a match in years."
I asked, "The workers don't do anything?"
"They go in to work and sit," he said; "six employees and a boss— seven of them."
Twenty years before, the North Koreans, for whatever political reason, had decided to make a gift of a match factory to the Congo. The country had nothing if not wood, so I supposed it made a kind of sense.
Unfortunately, as with almost all statist endeavours into commerce, the factory turned out to be inefficient and non-competitive. The state couldn't sell the matches partly because the Congo, too, was tied to the overpriced CFA (Central African franc), and partly because nobody here knew how to make matches. This was a national enterprise, however, so the government wouldn't fire these workers. I remembered that Congo national airline had only two planes and more than four hundred workers, a similar statist boondoggle.
Every day these seven people came to work in the match factory, did nothing, took vacations for two weeks of the year, and returned to do more nothing. They hadn't made a match in twenty years.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  pp209-10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 12, 2018, 09:57:39 AM
Gas here wasn't expensive, simply unavailable, the way it had been cheap and hard to get in Siberia and Russia. But this made sense: Fix a price too low, and no one wants to supply it- not individuals, not corporations, and not governments.
We went back the next morning and got another ten liters. We drove to the other gas stations, trying to get more gas, but we had no luck. We came back to the main station later, precisely at the time the attendant had told me to.
No gas, he said with his usual shrug. Out of frustration I shouted, "What kind of country is this? Why isn't there any gas.
Which meant absolutely nothing to this guy- what kind of country was this? How can you not have any gas? It made as much sense as screaming, "Why don't you have any kryptonite? What kind of planet is this?"
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  pp235-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 13, 2018, 09:46:37 AM
One night Tabitha and I heard elephants making loud grunts and trumpet calls below us. These were young male elephants, about twelve years old, who travelled in packs because they were young bucks, a bit like our teenagers. When they were older than twelve they found a female and paired off, or whatever elephants did. We figured this would be a terrific chance to see them up close.
We climbed down, got a driver, piled into a jeep, and drove to the water hole to see them.
We were watching a dozen by the light of the full moon when something spooked them. They immediately charged, stampeding toward us. We were stuck, couldn't move- we were paralyzed. When they were fifty or sixty yards away it was clear that Tabitha, the driver, and I were going to be trampled underfoot. Somehow, at the last minute they veered away.
Later the lodge's owner told us elephants didn't like to step on anything squishy that would make them slip and fall. They avoid mud, slick leaves, and, I suppose, motorcyclists filled with slippery blood.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  pp245-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 14, 2018, 02:38:16 PM
Australian roads turned out to be different from those anywhere in the world, except perhaps Texas. For the most part the country is flat. The roads barrelled forward for hundreds of miles without a curve. We put our rubber on the asphalt- the roads here were paved- and made terrific time. The first time we went to pass a large truck we were taken aback. We were going around it- and going around it and going around it until we realized it was a vehicle called a road train. Essentially it was a tractor with three long trailers attached, each fifty to sixty feet long. Road trains shot down the highway because there was no reason not to, another example of mankind adapting to its circumstances. We had to goose up our motorcycles to get around them.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p280
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 15, 2018, 12:44:30 PM
We loved Sydney, putting it on our list of cities in which we would like to live. My top three are New York, Buenos Aires, and Tokyo, followed by Sydney, Bangkok, and Rome.
Sydney was a dynamic capital, bursting with life and vitality. Melbourne sported old money and old gentility, the difference between brassy New York and Boston's reserved stony demeanour. When a traveller arrived in Perth, the joke went that people asked him, "Where are you from?" In Sydney they wanted to know how much money you made; in Brisbane, if you wanted a beer; and in Melbourne, what public (private) school you had attended.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p285
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 16, 2018, 01:33:35 PM
If a traveller wants to drive in Australia and New Zealand but has time for only one, New Zealand is the country to choose because it is so compact and beautiful. For the sports-car driver, motorcyclist, or ordinary traveller with a yen for breathtaking scenery, snug New Zealand has sprawling Australia beat hands down. For a motorcyclist, New Zealand's roads are better because they wind and twist through exciting vistas and constant change. In Australia we often drove a thousand miles without change, days and days of breathtaking sameness.
New Zealand's pleasant climate and geographical features are similar to and as varied as California's. It's not a big country, but for sheer variety it's hard to beat.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p286
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 17, 2018, 10:15:42 AM
When I was a kid, I thought border posts were always back to back, that as soon as you left the States you were obliged to deal with the Canadians or the Mexicans. In many parts of the world there are miles between posts, with only an isolated sign saying you've crossed the border. Governments don't want to maintain posts in extremely remote areas; guards don't want to work there; and in the desert or then mountains, there might not be water. People leaving Argentina could only go one way, along this road, which led right into the Chilean border post a few miles away.
We took advantage of this extended no-man's-land to change our license plates. We had new plates and new numbers to replace our out-of-date registrations from the States, and we'd had to get new carnets. Just as we had done in North Africa, we had a local shop make up new plates with the correct numbers, and naturally they were in the Argentine colors. As we had several more war zones to go through, we didn't want to be easily recognized as Americans. Since we had to make our carnets conform coming in and going out with the same registrations and plates, it made sense to change them between borders. This is an example of the sort of thinking we had to do, planning ahead, thinking through the details of each step.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p316
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 18, 2018, 10:09:46 AM
A truck pulled up and five guys piled out, all with AK-47S, the revolutionary weapon of choice. Since they weren't in military uniforms, she knew at once it was the Shining Path rebels. As they filled up the truck, a guy cradling an AK-47 drifted over and started flirting with her. Tabitha leaned over to wipe off her Argentinian tag and immediately formulated another essential rule for travelling around the world: If a guy with an AK-47 flirts with you, flirt back. Don't say, "Mind your manners," or "Don't be fresh"; giggle and laugh. She flashed her wedding band and said her husband- her big husband- was inside. All the while she laughed at his jokes. His chums filled up with gas and paid the attendant with cash, as the Shining Path didn't issue company credit cards.
Finally the AK-47 asked, "Which way are you going?"
She giggled again and asked, "Which way are you going?"
"South."
She looked disappointed. "We're going north. It's too bad."
When I came out, the tail of the truck was rounding the corner. She was white with terror.
"What's the matter?" I asked.
"Thank God you took so long," she said and told me the story.
"I had to show the owner- " I stopped short. Had my life been saved by the slow processing of a credit card? "Let's get out of here."
She shivered. "Nothing I want more."
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p333
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 19, 2018, 09:33:34 AM
Throughout this trip we encountered many societies with varying social structures that had accomplished amazing feats. We stood now in the ruins of a theocracy, but we'd travelled through socialist, Communist, fascist, and democratic systems, with every gradation in between, along with any number of monarchic ancient civilizations, from the Carthaginian to the Aztecs. What struck me was that in every one a hierarchical structure had prevailed. Whether the system was organized by priests, party bosses, barons, kings, capitalist owners, or ward heelers, somebody was on top and somebody else was on bottom. Even if you could magically start out on the proverbial level playing field, no matter what the system, it wouldn't take more than a day for those who were ambitious and those who were smart to figure out a plan for getting a bigger grass hut or even two grass huts. The fellow who was both ambitious and smart would shortly have himself a dozen grass huts, and the next thing you knew, he'd crown himself king and have his sons and daughters called princes and princesses.
It looked to me like a law of social dynamics.
Investment Biker  Jim Rogers  p367
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 20, 2018, 11:47:16 AM
We hit the road once more, heading on our bikes for the ferry that would take us across the water to the smallest of Canada's ten provinces, Prince Edward Island. After a hard day's fishing, it was good to be able to doss around on a BMW for a while, weaving in and out of the traffic, sliding the back wheel and doing pirouettes standing on the seat. I'm particularly keen on side-saddle these days, one hand on the throttle, legs crossed, enjoying a good cigar. There's something about the GS1200 that just fits me - it's a touring bike that's comfortable enough for the long run and yet still so much fun.
Extreme Frontiers  Charley Boorman pp25-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 21, 2018, 03:35:28 PM
Our few days of R&R meant I had a chance to visit the bike shop on Yonge Street in downtown Toronto. We met a cool guy called Nathan with a great mop of curly black hair, who played in a band called Midway State, and spent much of the evening trying to persuade him to do the music for the TV show. He'd been a fan of Long Way Round and joined me at the shop to get a feel for the bikes. I suggested he hop on the back and we'd do a couple of blocks of Yonge Street; it's the longest street in the world, according to the Guinness Book of Records, running from the shores of Lake Ontario to Lake Simcoe, 1,896 kilometres further north. Nathan had never even swung a leg over a bike before but he soon got the hang of it. We cruised the streets for a while, and when we were done he said he'd work on some music for us.
Extreme Frontiers  Charley Boorman pp47-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 22, 2018, 12:17:12 PM
So it was back on the highway, with the railway and a massive freight train on my left and the tarmac unravelling under the wheels. The Atlantic was behind me and the Rocky Mountains ahead. So far the only boundary we had pushed was the Atlantic, and that left both the south and the north before we rolled into Vancouver. We passed through small towns beyond which the land seemed flat and featureless, and the traffic grew less and less until it seemed I was the only person out there. It was mind-blowing to think I'd been on the same stretch of highway all the way from Toronto. I was contented, really deep-down happy. This was my signature, it was what I did: the road unwinding as I winged my way west on a GS1200 with off-road tyres, panniers and top box.
Extreme Frontiers  Charley Boorman p58
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 23, 2018, 09:00:30 AM
Thankfully, after all that excitement, I got plenty of much needed sleep that night, and on the morning of 9 July we started out on one of the most glorious drives you can make anywhere in the world. I say drives, but of course I was on two wheels as we rode from Calgary up the Icefields Parkway. It is like nowhere else on earth. The road twists and turns through forests and open grasslands into a panorama of lakes and glaciers from Lake Louise all the way to Jasper and the Columbia Ice Field beyond. I was delighting in the fact that I wasn't on a horse or a cow but a motorbike; two glorious wheels under me, or just the one now and again when I had a mind to pop a wheelie. I wasn't halfway up Mount Fable, clinging on for dear life, or in a narrow mineshaft thinking about the squeeze. I was in the great outdoors, doing what I like doing best, and I was revelling in it. Mile after mile just unfolded in front of me, and I was really in the zone, until a sudden movement in the valley caught my eye. Something was moving down in a grove of maple trees deep in the canyon - some sort of animal. Pulling over to the side of the road, I took a moment to figure out what it was. A black bear foraging for berries.
Extreme Frontiers  Charley Boorman pp145-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 24, 2018, 09:10:27 AM
By the time we rolled into Kamloops, I felt really refreshed and was itching to get back on my bike. Throwing on my jacket and helmet, I set off, beetling along through the heart of one of the most majestic mountain ranges anywhere on earth. It was poetry. With the road unravelling in delicious twists and turns, I was really enjoying this opportunity to mess about on the bike. It was only when we pulled over for a breather that I started to wonder what it would be like to view this amazing landscape from above.
I mentioned to Russ what I was thinking, and in the next town we stopped at a petrol station to ask whether anyone knew of anywhere we could hitch a ride in a glider. As luck would have it, about fifty miles further down the road there was an airfield with a gliding school run by a Czech guy called Rudy.
Extreme Frontiers  Charley Boorman p182
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 25, 2018, 08:09:20 AM
We were on perfect roads, delicious tarmac, with the kind of mountains you only find in Canada all around us. This country has everything: sea, snow, mountains, ice roads and waterways, as well as mile after mile of rolling prairie. As we got closer to Tofino, the road edged up against the most beautiful lake, and beyond the trees lay the Pacific Ocean. I could smell it; we were here. From Cape Spear to Vancouver, we had crossed a continent.
Just a few minutes left now, but enough time for some seat-standing, some side saddle, some Boorman posing on the bike and a second-gear wheelie that I confess I almost got wrong because I drifted a little too close to the gravel. That could've been a disastrous ending to a staggeringly beautiful journey. The words 'don't try this at home' came to mind, and thinking of my daughters, I rode the final thirty-one kilometres with both wheels firmly on the tarmac.
Extreme Frontiers  Charley Boorman p200
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 03, 2018, 01:36:36 PM
Now it appears to me that your average long-term motorbicyclist is an individual of more than passing fair sensitivity (albeit sometimes cleverly disguised behind a gruff exterior) and generally is of more than average intellectual capability (necessary for the understanding of British electrics, Italian camshaft drives and Japanese manuals).
I also am convinced of said individual's high levels of taste and perspicacity, as evidenced by their continually restrained and personable behaviour.
Well, now that the drugs have worn off I'll say what I really meant...
Jeez, don't us bikies (or whatever you reckon we should be called according to the whims of the current American bull-sheets) have a ball when we "Sally forth in search of fun" (to quote Eskimo Nell). I am continually amazed by the way in which we lay down our livers for our country's grand reputation in the twin spheres of carousing and enjoyment. Why, just a few scant weeks ago I was "hooting and roaring" (to quote the famed Doctor Spooner) at the Newcastle Bikers Ltd Annual Bike Show and Debauch, and what a hoot and a roar it was too. Allow me to expand briefly upon the subject...
Every year the above event occurs with great community support from sponsors and the press. Motorbicyclists of all varieties gather to squiz at each others' motorised devices, listen to the sound of loud music, drink beverages, relate scathing lies, and bewail the sad fate of the average two-wheeled vehicle user.
Peter Smith  Mr Smith  p24
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 04, 2018, 09:50:07 AM
How Fate and the Muses play games with us mere mortals! Only three miles (bugger metric) from The Old Homeplace the rain increased considerably and the experience was akin to walking through a waterfall. Except that it doesn't take long to get through a waterfalfall.
Visibility was down to a few scant yards (bugger metric once more) when the vehicle travelling ahead of me decided to take advantage of the slippery conditions and effect a Torville and Dean into the side of a truck. My gingerly attempts to brake met with mixed success. The wheels stopped turning but the bike kept moving, albeit with a slightly differing aspect and at an advanced angle of inclination.
"Mmmm ... " I thought, brain working at the blinding speed inherent in that bio-chemical inter-reaction, "If I do not arrest the untoward actions of this finely-engineered motorcyclic device I will find myself and it coming into contact with the Vehicular Altercation I espy ahead."
I placed one shod foot down and attempted to return the machine to an upright position in the manner of the great Bluey Wilkinson... a la Speedway.
Unfortunately, the Polish Desert Boots offer excellent ankle support and protection from their thick leather uppers, but are somewhat lacking in the sole department, that being manufactured from sponge rubber. The friction from the road surface removed same with great alacrity. We came to rest in the upright position a few inches from the entangled vehicles with only the mighty Holeproof Explorers between the sole of my foot and the surface of the thoroughfare. I left the drivers to argue in the gathering gloom and soldiered on with a knot in my Tucker Pit and considerably damper in the region of the sinister pedal extremity.
Peter Smith  Mr Smith  pp39-40
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on May 04, 2018, 10:17:37 AM
Quote
Polish Desert Boots offer excellent ankle support and protection from their thick leather uppers, but are somewhat lacking in the sole department, that being manufactured from sponge rubber. The friction from the road surface removed same with great alacrity. We came to rest in the upright position a few inches from the entangled vehicles with only the mighty Holeproof Explorers between the sole of my foot and the surface of the thoroughfare. I left the drivers to argue in the gathering gloom and soldiered on with a knot in my Tucker Pit and considerably damper in the region of the sinister pedal extremity.

Excellent use of the English language and understatement...
 :like
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 04, 2018, 05:29:20 PM
Excellent use of the English language and understatement...
 :like

He's very wordy, but has a great vocabulary.  More to come.  If you liked that, you'll love his book, available posted for $29.95 from his website.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 07, 2018, 04:50:52 PM
Being as I spend most of my time on, under, dismantling, dreaming about, scheming about, lying about, lying next to, sliding next to, sweating over and swearing at motorcycles of one variety or another, Editor McKinnon has asked me to enlighten all of you tourers- prospective, current or past- with a few of the famed Mr Smith-type tips on touring. I have obliged by churning out the following load of guff which covers a fair range of stuff. Now remember, Class, some of this stuff's serious and some isn't but none of it's dangerous so today's practical class is to try them all until you find the ones that both work and suit you. Let's get into it.
I figured I'd kick off with a bit of advice on what to carry along with you, but in order to decide what to carry one must first know where one's going and for how long one will be away. This can be a little confusing so I'll let you in on a couple of true tales and let you work out things from there.
Peter Smith  Mr Smith  p95
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on May 07, 2018, 05:08:19 PM
And?
Keenly awaiting the next installment please.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 07, 2018, 05:12:00 PM
And?
Keenly awaiting the next installment please.

Hold your horses, this is the daily drip feed here.
And often the next quote is completely unrelated...    :p
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on May 07, 2018, 05:12:59 PM
 :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 08, 2018, 09:57:58 AM
Several years ago, young Dorf (my little big brother) and I were standing beside the Great Western Highway heading toward Bathurst for the Easter weekend and the racing. We had been taking a short break and were enjoying observing the various two-wheeled devices which came rolling past. In the distance we espied a huge blob making its way toward us on two slow and uncertain wheels. As it passed we saw that the machine was a Bavarian Ural, absolutely festooned with tank bags, pannier bags, bed rolls, back-packs, side bags, billy cans, stuff strapped to the crash bars and even a couple of small coils of stuff taped to the tail light. The barely visible number plate indicated that the machine's home state was New South Wales.
Dorf looked at me. I looked at Dorf. Both of us stared back to the Munich M.
"Just the essentials?" ventured young Doorfiller as we both burst out laughing. We later decided that the Deutch Dneipr must have been the backup vehicle for a group poor four wheel drivers away for the weekend.
"Just the essentials" has become my motto when I start thinking about loading up for a trip. If you're only going away for a few days and your destination is at all civilised then all you'll probably need to take away is a toothbrush, a toolkit and ten twenties.
Peter Smith  Mr Smith  p95
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on May 08, 2018, 05:34:46 PM
The above reminds me of a trip to Bathurst for the racing many years ago, I loaded the bare essentials for a week away camping and traveling, and had ready cash if anything else was required.
Met a guy there who had so much stuff strapped, tied, taped and screwed to his bike, that it was difficult to even ascertain what brand of bike it was? ...  he wore a full backpack, and carried a sleeping bag on his lap between the tankbag and his belly! Even the pockets of his jacked were crammed with god knows what. From a distance he looked like a fat bundle of junk with part of a tyre extending front and rear, and a helmet balanced on top.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 09, 2018, 09:34:43 AM
Let's start off with a tale which illustrates the great advances made in the mechanicing business, a game which is dear to my heart since I very nearly became a real mechanic many years ago (before I figured out that there was more money to be made in lying for a living... look at the House of Reps).
While I was living at the Star Hotel in Macksville NSW I made the acquaintance of a fellow Triumph rider and owner (a subtle distinction) whom I shall call Chris... basically because it's his name. Now, Chris dearly loved his very nice Trophy and delighted in showing me a clean pair of wheels on several occasions, particularly at night on the back road to Taylors Arm. I was therefore distressed to learn one day that he had blown a head gasket and that the head of his beast was warped. "What should I do?" he pleaded, knowing that I had ridden and fixed a Triumph or two in my time.
"Simple," I informed him. "There is a time-honoured method for removing the warp from the joint face of cylinder heads such as those found on the magnificent Triumph twin. Get yourself a sheet of thick plate glass about eighteen inches square and some valve grinding paste. Spread a little paste on the glass and start grinding."
Peter Smith  Mr Smith  p106
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø Glimt on May 10, 2018, 04:51:22 AM
The Wymah Ferry is my favorite of all the Murray River ferries.  I pushed the button for service and could see the operator walking down the hill from his house on New South Wales side of the border so shut down the bike.  The serenity of the place was awesome.  There is something mesmerising about the sound of silence. 
Duån Miyazaki 2017.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 10, 2018, 09:16:20 AM
Oh how distant seems the day when I first became absorbed by the mystique of our mutually beloved form of transport, the sublime Motorbicycle.
How many are the years which have passed since I made that fateful first decision- conscious or unconscious- to allow myself to include those wonderful devices in my life, and, despite a few years in various Institutions For The Partially Buggered, what a fortuitous and fruitful decision that was. However, I have found myself wondering over the past few days just when it was that I became a Real Motorcyclist. You see, it all started when I saw my first Triumph...
It was Robert Lancaster's birthday party and I was a mere child. Robert's mother had been divorced (or so I believe, due to the reluctance of my parents to discuss such matters those days) and Robert was blessed (or, perhaps, cursed) with a succession of uncles. The one who was present at the time of said Celebration of the Natal Anniversary owned a Triumph twin (I remembered the machine so well that I recognised the model as a Thunderbird when I later saw it in a 1955 sales brochure) and, as a treat for all of us wee whelps, Uncle Anonymous took us for a spin around the block.
When my turn finally came, I stood beside the idling machine with Trembling Trepidation, my height allowing me to stare directly at the Triumph logo on the handsome tank. I had been literate for a few years so I read the name aloud.
"Triumph. Isn't that when you win something?"
"Blood oath," laughed Uncle Whoever, looking down at me with obvious interest and amazement in his eyes.
"You've done better than winning the bloody lottery if you own one of these!" They were powerful words. My father's entire future seemed to revolve about winning the lottery. I accepted the hand he reached down to me and, with the ease which comes with practice, he raised an eager youngster onto the pillion of his pride.
I'll never forget that ride as long as the Gods allow me to draw breath. The thunder of the engine, the wind in my face as I peered around Uncle Nameless' back, the smell of hot oil, the spectacle of the horizon tilting as we made the turns, the aroma of a well-worn leather jacket and the feeling of emptiness as I was finally lifted down remain with to this day.
Peter Smith  Mr Smith  p115
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 11, 2018, 08:59:07 AM
You see, TE Lawrence had also learned the invaluable lesson that "He rides fastest who rides alone". And very few of us will ever be as lonely as Lawrence was.
My Dear Departed Daddy used to say to me often that "a motorcycle is the transportational device of the selfish and the lonely".
Well, I'm not sure I don't disagree with him these days, despite the fact that, at that time, I wasn't real keen on his giblets. If it's selfish to want to enjoy oneself along some deserted road with only the wind and the sun for company while, as Omar Khayyam once said, the speed "... clears your mind of past regrets and future fears," then I suppose I am selfish.
And, if the faster I go then the clearer my mind becomes, then I must be lonely since "He rides fastest who rides alone". And, on some days, I ride, as Lawrence rode, very fast indeed.
Sometimes I think it would be admirable to have a companion with whom to traverse life's hills and vales and to share the riding as we blast along mortality's version of Bell's Line Of Road. But then I remember CJ Dennis' admonition: "Why should I be rooked for half my tucker, just to get it cooked."
Peter Smith  Mr Smith  p123
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on May 11, 2018, 05:01:09 PM
Good one.  ++
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 12, 2018, 04:02:44 PM
Some time later that particular Triumph spat me off after picking up a nail in its rear tyre, thereby rendering its linear stability somewhat suspect in a certain bend, which was, most fortunately, in very close proximity to one of Sydney's major hospitals. This, of course, made a severe physical wreck out of yours truly and, acting under the laws of probability, I became another of those "major accident in the first two years" type of riders.
The way I look at it though is that if I hadn't been injured some other poor sod would have been, and much better me than him/her since, due to my massive psychological instability, I am much more able to shrug the entire episode off as some sort of bad dream (although my Pseudo-leg continually reminds me that its not a bloody dream, let alone a flamin' dress rehearsal).
Now, the point I'm getting at (believe it or not) is that, despite all the trauma of severe injury and the struggle of recovery and rehabilitation, I still love motorcycles with a bright and burning passion. I also find that the gods have allowed me to continue to suffer from the dreaded psychological disorder of contrasuggestability.
You see, when Dear Pater came in to visit me where I lay in the emergency department of St Levi's (the Jewish-Catholic hospital) he grunted at me "You ought to get a hitman onto the bastard who sold you that bike. He's bloody ended your life."
Well, contrasuggestability has caused me to continue to strongly consider Michael "Cycle" Collins as one of the most sincere blokes to walk the surface of this glorious orb. And as far as ending my life's concerned, I reckoned he started it for me when he introduced me to the wonders of ownership of large sports/touring motorcycles. 
Thanks Mate!
Peter Smith  Mr Smith  p135
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 13, 2018, 08:32:09 AM
Not long after the eye-opening antics of Mr Andrews I was offered the use of a DT250 Yamaha for an extended period. After solemnly vowing unto myself that I would only use this machine for commuting, I found myself one day on the newsouthwales Central Coast among roads that I had known from my youth and in an area honeycombed with trails. Surely it couldn't hurt to explore a little. A quick squirt up some hard packed dirt roads led me to becoming a little more adventurous and I gradually found myself rattling along trails I wouldn't normally contemplate at speeds I couldn't quite accept. Just as I thought I had reached the level of a Roger De Coster I was passed by a young lad of no more than ten years on a YZ80. He was obviously not mucking about but, with my newfound confidence, I knew I could blow him into the weeds, especially as I had 170cc on him.
The next mile or so was a little hair-raising as I battled to reel in the YZ's distance advantage, gained, so I informed myself, by the underhanded tactic of surprise. With much effort I pulled alongside my diminutive opponent with my heart in my mouth and my throttle in my hand. He looked across at me with a scowl that said "What are you flamin comin at, mug?" opened the throttle on his glorified edge-trimmer and disappeared into the distance so fast that I thought that the DT's engine had seized and stepped off to see what had gone wrong.
I swore blind I'd never ride another rooster-racer. Seems a pity really. I'd hate to have to leave my new secondhand XL250 in the shed because of a promise I made to myself when I found I'd never be a Jim Airey. I guess I'm stuck with being Mr Smith, lousy dirt rider and bull artist.
Peter Smith  Mr Smith  p176
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 14, 2018, 09:12:45 AM
Mate: "G'day. We need a choke lever for a Boxer Many Worries."
CJ: (Counter Jumper): "What model?"
Mate: "R-sup 90/6."
CJ: "I'll check the fiche." At this point we assume that perhaps they are cooking lunch for us but the Parts Peddler is actually referring to the microfiched parts listing.
CJ: "No worries, I think there's one of 'em in stock." (Adjourns to the cavernous interior of the storeroom and returns only minutes later with a handlebar assembly which contains a whole bunch of switchgear and a lever marked 'Choke'). "Thar she blows!"
Mate: "No, that's not the bit I'm after. I'm actually after one of these" (produces remains of deceased choke lever from pocket.) "I've fitted an old Victa lawnmower throttle instead of this bit and it fits good and works okay but I want the original bit".
CJ: "I'll check the fiche" (looks at display screen.) "Your bike was never fitted with this part".
Mate: "It was on there when I bought it new".
C.J.: "Let me have a closer look at it." (When mate's outstretched hand is within reach, grabs busted choke lever.) "I'll keep this. Blokes like you shouldn't be allowed near these machines! You'll have to buy the correct assembly and fit it".
Mate: "Aaarrrggghhh!" A short altercation ensued during which my associate retrieved his 'non-standard' and broken choke lever. The sales chappie was himself left a little non-standard, broken and choked also.
Let that be a lesson to you. Never stuff around with anyone who's spent more than a couple of years at sea and owns a Bavarian Money Waster. Oh, the Victa throttle lever's still on the bike some nine years later.
Peter Smith  Mr Smith  p178
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 15, 2018, 02:42:12 PM
So as I approached immigration in Anchorage I fully expected to be stopped and strip-searched. How dare someone come to America on a one-way ticket with his life savings and a motorcycle. He must be a terrorist.
"Morning, sir. Can I see your passport?"
"Good morning. Here you are," I replied.
"Here for shooting?"
"Er, pardon?"
"Are you here shooting, or fishing?"
"Er, no. I'm riding a motorcycle."
"OK, that's unusual. Most people come here to shoot."
And that was it. I was through customs, although it seemed it would have been more conventional if I'd had a gun with me instead of a crash heimet.
Welcome to America.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 16, 2018, 09:36:34 AM
Although I hadn't started the very front of the convoy I soon found myself there. As the paved road turned to gravel, I passed the Harley Davidson bikers with ease. Their bikes are just not set up to cope with anything other than pure American asphalt and I found it quite amusing how they would overtake me on the tarmac but fall back embarrassingly quickly as soon as there was a sniff of gravel. I was also amused by their attire. They really lived up to the caricature- stylish boots, blue jeans, leather jacket, neck-tie and a small open-faced helmet, none of which would help you as you skidded down that lovely American asphalt at even fifty miles per hour. Sometimes the helmets were so small they looked more like the kippah or yarmulke worn by devout Jews. These minimalist 'helmets' were designed more for nominal law abidance than head protection. Again, something I couldn't really understand. What makes you more concerned about fashion than saving your life? (No doubt those Hog riders would have said, "It's all about freedom. Man!")
All of this gear seemed to be worn without the slightest hint of irony. And then there were the accessories. The girlfriends on the back (all Harleys seem to come supplied with a small female pillion), typically would have no protective clothing at all. A pair of boots, jeans and top designed solely for fashion not protection and the ubiquitous backpack designed to look like a squashed sheep or dog or something. I've always taken motorcycle protective clothing seriously (which, I like to think, is partly why I'm still here).
Gone Riding  Dom Giles pp32-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 17, 2018, 09:59:23 AM
When we got back to the campsite it was still raining and we were not 'happy campers'. The tent was looking rather sorry for itself and inside, the floor of the tent was getting damp. We had good quality sleeping mats so I knew we wouldn't get wet but I wasn't really looking forward to the long night ahead. Reluctantly we climbed into our damp tent soon after six. Trying to keep the dry stuff dry and the wet stuff as far away from us as possible we settled down in our sleeping to watch a film on the Netbook, do some reading and try to get to sleep before we could feel the rain. The floor of the tent was a bit damp but the sleeping mats would keep us dry, I assured Tracy. Trusting my word (she's a slow learner), Tracy got to sleep quite easily; she has a wonderful knack for being able to sleep anywhere. I tossed and turned a bit, listening to the rain and wondering whether my old tent would stand up to three metres in one night. I also worried about the bike, sinking into the wet earth on its side-stand and keeling over in the night. Eventually I managed to sleep but the patter, patter of rain on the canvas seeped into my dreams, and into my bladder. The one thing I absolutely hate about getting on in years and camping, (especially in the cold and/or rain), is having to get up to pee in the middle of the night. I pulled on my soaking bike trousers and damp shirt, slipped on my wet bike boots went outside. Standing outside in the dark and wet, in soaking clothes, I doubted that things could get any more miserable, but I was wrong, they most certainly could.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles pp95-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 18, 2018, 10:34:23 AM
Next door was the town's bar, The Buckhorn. I had to go in. The interior was exactly as I had hoped: neon Budweiser signs, big TV, long bar with stools and trophies of dead animals all over the walls and ceiling. For someone brought up in the UK this was a surreal experience. It was all so familiar but in an unfamiliar way. I'd only ever seen this on TV before. I ordered a Bud and watched the ball game- I'd been looking forward to finding this America and I was having a great time. All was going well until I looked up and nearly choked on my beer. Behind the bar there was a big handwritten sign: 'Win a gun- and help the needy kids at Christmas. Ask our friendly staff how.' I know I should have asked. I know I should have. I just couldn't- not with a straight face anyway. I moseyed on back to my tent (I felt I just had to 'mosey'). What a day it had been. It had started, freezing cold in Glacier National Park and ended camping under the enormous Montana night sky, on grass and away from bears. I'd ridden the Going-to-the-Sun Road, learned about Plains Indians and especially about their sign language, and I'd found real small town America. Talk about ups and downs. This was what it was all about. I'd witnessed more in one day than I'd normally pack into a whole holiday. As I drifted off to sleep, surrounded by food, with no idea where my pepper spray was, I was simply the happiest, most contented biker on the planet.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p61
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Williamson on May 18, 2018, 08:37:23 PM
Next door was the town's bar, The Buckhorn. I had to go in. The interior was exactly as I had hoped: neon Budweiser signs, big TV, long bar with stools and trophies of dead animals all over the walls and ceiling. For someone brought up in the UK this was a surreal experience. It was all so familiar but in an unfamiliar way. I'd only ever seen this on TV before. I ordered a Bud and watched the ball game- I'd been looking forward to finding this America and I was having a great time. .....


Helen and I visited the Buckhorn Bar when in Laramie WY, around 12 months ago.  It matches the above description in many ways.

(http://i643.photobucket.com/albums/uu159/williamson_photos/Mobile%20Uploads/2017-04/73E75AFD-7A36-425C-8F97-D7E0F959F11F_zpsymltnelh.jpg) (http://s643.photobucket.com/user/williamson_photos/media/Mobile%20Uploads/2017-04/73E75AFD-7A36-425C-8F97-D7E0F959F11F_zpsymltnelh.jpg.html)

(http://i643.photobucket.com/albums/uu159/williamson_photos/Mobile%20Uploads/2017-04/BF809637-907D-437A-9D9E-13FC4563CA41_zps2ymbtfjz.jpg) (http://s643.photobucket.com/user/williamson_photos/media/Mobile%20Uploads/2017-04/BF809637-907D-437A-9D9E-13FC4563CA41_zps2ymbtfjz.jpg.html)

Another Helen (an Aussie friend from Melbourne) married Corey, a guy from Cody WY (of Buffalo Bill fame) they lived in Laramie.  After Corey died a couple of years ago, Helen stayed on in Laramie.  When we visited, she took us to the Buckhorn because it was Corey's favourite bar.  Helen knew most of the locals, and introduced us, we talked, chatted for hours, they wanted to know about Malborrrne, Australia - Middle America, and the people were very special.

I don't remember the sign about "Win a gun ....... " though, but it does not surprise me.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 19, 2018, 06:29:41 PM
We chatted for a few minutes about motorcycles (I could only manage a few minutes). JW had a KTM and ran a motorcycle lodge a few miles up the road. had been travelling a lot abroad and I hardly had to say a thing as he told me about his trips, his lodge and a charity he was working with saving cats somewhere in the world. He was one of those overpowering Americans who loves the sound of his own voice, but is super-friendly with it. Although he knew I was British (he'd spent a year in Leighton Buzzard) and I was riding an Alaskan-registered motorcycle he didn't ask me anything about my trip, but kept me entertained with tales about his KTM. And then he said: "Look Dom, it's been great chatting but I need to run. I'm J.W Everitt, guitarist with Crosby, Stills and Nash. Here's my card. Ride safe."
And with that he was off, out through the swing doors and away. I was left stunned. What had just happened? It felt as if a whirlwind had passed through the sleepy diner. Had I just met a musician, biker and traveller or a total bullshitter? Later that day I logged on and checked his name on Google images. He certainly was J.W. Everitt: professional musician and biker. And he really had played with Crosby, Stills and Nash.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p75
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 21, 2018, 09:04:08 AM
It was only on my last night, over a mojito or two in Hotel California, that I learned that Maria wasn't her real name.
"No, Dom, never use your real name if you don't have to. My travelling name is Maria. Everyone should have a travelling name. I've been thinking what yours should be, seeing as you're on this amazing trip."
"Oh, I don't know about that. I don't think I could look someone in the eye and lie about my name."
"It's not lying. You're just using a different persona. I never lie to people."
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p126
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 22, 2018, 12:11:07 PM
Tracy got off the bike and walked ahead of me clearing away some of the bamboo and other flora from the path. Gingerly I rode along the edge. The first few feet were easy, after all, the tarmac was two feet wide. But as soon as I started contemplating what I was doing I began to panic. I was navigating a big heavy machine along a wet narrow path. I thought it would be best to go as slowly as possible with both of my feet down on the path walking myself along. But the tarmac wasn't quite wide enough and although my left foot was firmly down on tarmac my right was hovering dangerously over the edge, slipping on some mud which was sliding down into the hole. The drop to both my left and right was several feet and would cause major damage to the bike and, more importantly I realised, to me, if we toppled over. If I fell to my right I would fall more than ninety degrees into muddy water with the bike on top of me.
This was not helping me keep the bike steady. I needed to be positive. I tried my best to forget what could go wrong and concentrate on what I was doing. I had to take control of the situation and speed up a little. All I had to do was ride in a straight line. I told myself that this was easy. I focused on the front wheel, revved the engine a little, lifted my feet up and trusted myself. I made it across. It was only afterwards I realised that it would have made a wonderful photograph.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p143
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 24, 2018, 10:22:19 AM
The Panamanian side of the border was chaotic. There were no signs telling us where to go and when I joined the back of the queue to get our passports stamped it didn't move an inch for thirty minutes. I finally got them stamped and then went to the window labelled Aduana to start the process for importing the bike. They told me I first had to go and get insurance and when I asked where that was they just pointed vaguely down the road. We got on the bike and rode off. After a few hundred metres the road opened up and we were clearly heading out of town. I stopped at a police hut to ask and they sent me back to the aduana office, claiming it was somewhere nearby. We rode back and found a side road and optimistically headed down it. I stopped the bike near a small row of shops, a man came over and without me even asking, told me that the insurance office was upstairs in the building I had stopped next to. I went up the stairs and found myself in a huge hardware shop.
Just as I was about to turn around to leave, presuming I'd got the instructions wrong, the lady behind the counter gestured to me that I should walk through the shop and out onto the balcony! I did as I was told and there indeed was a tiny office tucked into the corner of the balcony with the word Seguro (Insurance) hand-written on the door. Unbelievable. Here was the office where everyone who brings a vehicle into Panama must come to buy insurance. It consisted of a woman with a computer and a printer. Why she couldn't be in the aduana office, or next to it, I had no idea.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p174
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 25, 2018, 09:03:21 AM
Now in South Africa.
"Steve. It's Dom again. Yeah, the guy from Alaska. I've broken down again. I'm on the M6 coast road, nine miles south of Cape Town, heading for Hout Bay. Any chance you can come and pick me up?"
"Sorry mate. I'm on another job and the traffic is crazy. It's Friday night man... It'll take me at least two hours to get to you. Sorry. Try ringing Johnny at
Atlantic Motorrad, he may be able to help if he's still there. If he can't help, ring me back."
Not only was it getting dark but the battery on my phone was looking dangerously low as I rang the bike shop. It rang and rang and I was just about to hang up and phone Steve back when I heard Shane's voice. I explained the situation to him.
"Sounds like your fuel controller. Hang on, I'll be out with you soon."
I just love blokes who know about motorcycles. Shane turned up at 5.45 pm with a spare second-hand fuel pump controller. He changed it over (it took seconds) and the bike fired back into life again.
"Fantastic. Thanks Shane. How much do I owe you?"
"Oh, don't worry. It's nothing, just enjoy your trip. I'm going home."
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p207
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 27, 2018, 09:17:05 PM
At the small Isandlwana museum I found a list of all the British men who had died in in the battle. (We Brits may not be good at winning things but are bloody good at keeping score.) I don't really know why, but I just had to look down the list to see if my name was there. I know that Giles is only my father's, father's, father's surname and over one hundred years ago I must have had eight different grandfathers' surnames, but I looked down the list and found one: Sergeant Edward Giles of the 1st Battalion, 24th of the 2nd Warwickshires. I guess it made it personal and I was overcome with a feeling of deep sadness - and guilt. Here was I, having the time of my life, selfishly riding a motorcycle across South Africa, just for the hell of it. And yet only a hundred years ago another Brit with the same surname had fought and died on that very spot, doing his duty.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles pp229-30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 28, 2018, 01:02:16 PM
There was no way it was going to come back in line and I just knew we were going down. I had a millisecond to decide how to get off in the least damaging way for both me and the bike. I was just about to throw myself to the left while trying to push the bike to the right when the rear suddenly decided to come back in line.
Perhaps I could hold this bloody thing up after all. I gripped the tank with my knees and gave her a little gas. If I'm going to come off I was going to do it at speed and in style. If only Daryll were here with his head cam.
Somehow Heidi stayed upright and I managed to hold on. Speeding up a little had helped and I made it through the soft sand and pulled up next to Pat. He had a huge grin on his face.
"That was tough. I got into a bit of trouble and stopped to warn you."
"Yeah, I wasn't sure why you had stopped but I guessed it wasn't good news. I really thought I'd lost it there. I was fishtailing all over the place."
"I know. I thought you were going to drop it. You did well to hold it together."
I rode back to the others proud that I'd made it through the sand and excited that I'd finally been to Duwisib and seen Baron Captain Hans Heinrich von Wolf's castle. Another great day on the bike and yet another great adventure to rack up to the memory banks. With everything I'd done since arriving in South Africa I was finding it hard to process it all. I was experiencing new things all the time, learning about the world, myself and others. It might sound daft, but I simply felt aiive.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p260
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 29, 2018, 01:22:34 PM
When we stopped at one camp for the night on the edge of the Caprivi strip there were two German bikers on KTMs camping there. We greeted each other like old friends and spent a few hours comparing notes on roads and swapping advice on where to go. All the 4x4s in the campground stayed in their own area and didn't talk to one another. It struck me that adventure motorcyclists seem to belong to a huge worldwide family. Many bikers use or at least know of the Horizons Unlimited website and it wasn't unusual to meet another biker and then realise that you'd been reading something they posted just a few days previously. Being exposed to the elements, vulnerable and with limited space for luggage, I guess bikers are more willing to share and help one another. There seems to be a camaraderie which I don't think exists among other overlanders. People in their 4x4s would almost seem to be in competition as to who had the biggest truck, or best tow rope but bikers seemed friendlier.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p267
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 30, 2018, 09:42:13 AM
An hour later, riding down a long straight section of road with Pat about fifty metres in front of me I saw two men out of the corner of my eye running from under the shade of a tree. One of them was waving a red flag. Pat sped past them just as they made it to the road and they both pointed at me! For a millisecond I thought of ignoring the frantic officer with the flag and riding past but with Tom, Daryll and Angela behind me I decided it wouldn't be the right thing to do.
Angrily, I pulled over and flipped up my lid.
"Sir, this is an 80 zone and you were doing 86," said the out-of-breath official, still waving his red flag.
"But officer. What about my friend in front. You didn't stop him?"
"He was going too fast. It would have been dangerous."
"How fast was he going?"
The officer looked down at his speed gun, "93 kilometres per hour."
I just started laughing and, amazingly, so did the policeman. I didn't need to say anything and neither did he. We both saw the absurdity of the situation. I really think the fact that I had a flip-front helmet, so he could see my face, helped. It was so ridiculous I couldn't help but laugh and he saw the funny side too. He told me to slow down and said I could go. I'm not sure I could have taken being stopped and fined by the Zimbabwe police twice in one day.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p283
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 31, 2018, 10:01:19 AM
The plan was to head on to Namibia and then South Africa before finishing their route by traversing Australia. They should have been over the moon but their achievement was tinged with immense sadness. Just a few weeks previously, in Malawi, a stolen car, being chased by police, had careered into their party killing the third rider, Valerio de Simoni.
I spent the evening talking with Kristopher and Jamie. They were very positive about the whole experience and were determined to finish what they had started.
They told me that Valerio had said, before they started, that if any of them had a serious accident, or even died, the others should still finish. They had just never expected it to happen. Initially I thought this was almost callous but thinking about it, what other option did they have? Giving up and going home wouldn't bring Val back, and continuing with the trip (they were sponsored and raising lots of money for charity) would probably help them deal with the tragedy. Chatting with them reminded me how fragile life is, how much of a lottery it is and how much I needed to have my wits about me as I headed north through East Africa. But it also reminded me how short life is. Whether it's twenty years or eighty years we're not on this planet for very long and it really is a crime if we don't all live life to the full and seize every opportunity.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles p296
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 01, 2018, 10:13:05 AM
While we were conferring, a couple of armed police spotted us and came over to see the bikes. By now we were used to people coming over and had well prepared answers to the usual questions. In Southern Africa these questions usually revolved around how much the bike cost. I had a theory that the type of questions I was asked about the bike and my trip reflected the culture I was travelling through. In North America people were amazed that I had given up my job and was travelling for so long. How could get the time off work? Why would I voluntarily give up a job to travel? Why was I travelling alone? (as it's dangerous) and where was my gun?
In Central America most questions revolved around the top speed of the bike; a particularly tricky question to answer when it was asked by the police. They always seemed a little disappointed when I said that I kept to below the speed limit.
In Africa money was on everyone's mind. How much did the bike cost? Again, difficult to answer. If I gave the correct answer it was such a huge amount to most people I feared they might decide to rob me. But if I lowered the price, which I sometimes did, I was confronted with a look of disappointment. It was always hard to please the punters.
Gone Riding  Dom Giles pp318-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 02, 2018, 10:08:49 AM
All of this was racing through my mind as we cruised past a line of cars waiting at traffic lights in the centre of Rabat. I pulled in front of the lead car to take up pole position, ready for the lights to go green, quite normal behaviour for a bike.
Whack!
I could not believe it. We were over, on the ground. At this stage of the trip everything was perfect, the kit so organised, the rear pannier boxes shiny and new.
Not any more. The box was dented but that was nothing compared to my pride. Sadly, the driver of the car we had wafted in front of had taken offence and decided to ram us. Totally unrepentant he then calmly drove around and alongside of us, smirking all the while. You b..tard I thought. I was seething with anger but had pledged not to rise to provocation. We would undoubtedly be subjected to stupidity on the roads unseen and unimaginable in Europe. To indulge in road rage would be lunacy, especially given our vulnerability. Well, that was the plan, as I swore at the man and cursed riding a motorcycle we could barely lift.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 03, 2018, 11:47:54 AM
We narrowed it down to the CDI unit, an expensive and un-mendable 'black box' which controlled the electronic ignition. I suddenly remembered I had a spare. Four years earlier, prior to setting off on our first big bike trip across Africa, John of Bracken Motorcycles in London, had tossed a second-hand CDI unit at me saying "you should take one of these, it might come in handy, you can have it for twenty quid." I didn't really know what it was at the time. Looking at it now I had little faith. It had been shaken about in the tankbag for 20,000 miles on African roads back in 1995, with no guarantee that it was sound in the first place.
We gingerly connected it. Using Stuart's battery for power the starter motor turned in its now familiar way with not even the promise of a spark.
I'd had enough. "Bloody thing," I cursed, walking away.
"Give it one more go," encouraged Stuart gently.  Again... nothing. Then, suddenly, a huge puff of black smoke as petrol in the cylinders ignited. The bike was running. It had started. The girls stopped their chattering for a split second and looked over, unsure whether it was good news or bad as the smoke cleared and their boyfriends came into view.
At last we were back in business. The next day we bought a car battery, strapping it to the right hand pannier. It would have to do for the time being.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p24
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 04, 2018, 09:22:37 AM
"I love it when you put your jeans on," said Ness dreamily a couple of days later as she watched me dress. "It means we're moving on."
I knew what she meant. Both of us craved days on the road - an open horizon, new places to see. Just the sheer pleasure of riding, in the dry, in the warm, was enough. But to actually be headed somewhere, along a path of discovery... you just never wanted it to end.
Every day you get on a motorcycle there is a tiny part of you that wonders if it will be your last, but a much larger part that almost doesn't care - because of what it has given you, how it has allowed you to live, what it has enabled you to see.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p28
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 05, 2018, 09:50:07 AM
John explained that today's leg was from Tidjikja in Mauritania, to Nioro. The first of the competitors, probably the bikes, would start arriving around 5pm, followed by increasingly exhausted entrants throughout the night. Some would not make it at all, to be picked up by the 'sweeper truck' hours, or possibly even days, later. We heard stories of desperate competitors utterly lost in the desert, kneeling by the side of their vehicles praying, hugging the sweeper team in delirious gratitude when they were finally saved. Such is the loneliness of the Sahara.
Throughout the day we gained an inkling as to just how tough this race was. The day before we had ridden two hundred and fifty kilometres in similar terrain over twelve hours, albeit two-up and loaded with kit. These guys cover six hundred kilometres, day after day, at breakneck speeds, navigating themselves with the help of a roll-map and GPS. If they slow, break down or get lost they are likely to be riding into the night. Arriving at midnight or beyond they are expected to put up their own tent, gobble some food and collapse into sleep before it starts all over again at dawn. Only on certain days do they have the benefit of a team of mechanics, and in the seventeen days that the Rally lasts only one is a rest day.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p47
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 06, 2018, 10:05:11 AM
We had travelled far to reach Timbuktu, many thousands of miles from home. It worked well - just the two of us together. Since the day we met over a decade before travel was a large part of what we were about. I had always shunned the idea of anything more permanent; the mere thought of domesticity frightening me to death.
I once jokingly said to my mother that the day Ness and I started washing-up together would be the end of us as a couple. But the journey was changing me. I had more love and respect for Ness than ever before, but even more than this we were sharing things - emotions, experiences, hardships - things which cemented us together, things which no-one else could ever know, share or take away from us.
Our feet sunk into the deep, deep sand which formed a hollow, like a drift, between the town and our hotel. As we slowed I looked up into the sky, a sky bursting with stars. I felt so utterly at peace with the world, with the girl who was holding my hand.Then I heard it one more time, that familiar sound, of baobabs whispering in my ear. But this time the old men of Africa spoke with a voice I could hear, and at last I knew, knew from the bottom of my heart. What better place? What better time? I took hold of Ness' hand and slipped off the ring, the thumb ring I had bought her in Djenne.
"That's a very silly place for a ring," I said as I gently placed it on the ring finger of her left hand and looked into her beautiful eyes.
"Will you marry me?"
She let out a gasp, flung her arms around me and cried, holding me tighter than ever before.
"Do you really mean it?" she sobbed.
I did. But quite when, how or where we would marry I had absolutely no idea.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p72
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 07, 2018, 10:20:10 AM
The next day the sand took on an orange hue rather than the glaring, grey-white we had become accustomed to. It was a colour change that worried me. Fears that we may be heading deeper into the Sahara rather than closer to the lake nagged within me. Added to this we lost a spring from the side-stand and punctured the front wheel. By now we were running the tyres so soft (less than 5 psi) we had suffered tyre-creep and the inevitable ripping of a valve. Changing tubes was hot work.
We were also consuming petrol at an alarming rate. Thorny bushes and small dunes had made the going slow and exhausting. Any tracks in the sand looked far from recent. The sun beat down relentlessly. The horizon seemed to gloat from all of its 360°. A small antelope scampered in front of us, lifting our spirits, but all too briefly. A mild state of panic was rising within me. OK we had a GPS, but so what? In conjunction with a map that stretched from the Equator to the Mediterranean, it simply confirmed with astounding accuracy that we were lost.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p86
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 08, 2018, 09:16:18 AM
Having limped into town we were in dire need of help. The engine was now seriously underpowered and in need of attention.
Phillipe had a Cameroonian policeman-friend who knew BMWs and thought he could solve our problems. Early one morning I picked him up as planned. He jumped on the back armed with a toolbox and directed me through the maze of streets to the engineering district. In the space of a few hours the Bear was in pieces, his cylinders and pistons lying on the ground in the thick orange dust. I had given up trying to intervene for fear of causing offence. though I could have wept when the local mechanic started drilling the crankcase The purpose of this demolition was to create new threads for the loose cylinder studs. I limply offered a rag in an attempt to prevent the engine filling with swarf. To give them their due I did see calipers and micrometers come into play as they used lathes to fashion the insert; a kind of homemade helicoil. Once the bike was all back together with valves reset and a fresh change of oil I could not believe the difference these bush mechanics had achieved.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p99
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 09, 2018, 08:25:50 PM
Jan fetched a photograph and handed it around. "Still, least we don't these buggers here."
It was one of the goriest photos I had ever seen. A man lay on the floor of a forest, on his side, knees drawn up in the foetal position, but his body was
actually inside a snake. The photo omitted his head but you could clearly see his legs, still dressed in shorts, and his bare torso. Locals had slit the snake
open to find him. Jan explained that it was a photo from Indonesia. Drunk, the man had laid down in the forest to sleep. The snake, an enormous python, had crushed him with his coils before swallowing him whole. You could see that some of the man's skin had turned black and tendons were bared under his knee where the snake's digestive juices had begun to dissolve his limb. His wife had reported him missing. Days later people talked of having seen a huge bloated snake. The snake was duly found and slit open to reveal the awful truth.
"You know what the moral of that story is," someone quipped. "If you're going to get pissed in Indonesia make sure you fall asleep with your arms outstretched."
We all laughed nervously, inching a little closer to the fire.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p125
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 10, 2018, 12:54:45 PM
An armoured truck drew up alongside, signalling for us to pull over. Police poured out of the back, as many as ten or fifteen, dressed in tight grey uniforms and black jack-boots, some of them women. One of the men shouted at us in Portuguese. We couldn't understand a word. I was trying to kick into neutral and turn off the engine but he was having none of it. He grabbed hold of my hands shoving them on the handlebars whilst his colleague stood inches away, legs apart, pointing his pistol at us. What was going on? What had we done wrong? I tried to stay calm but they all looked so deadly serious. The one with the drawn gun looked worryingly incapable of reason, driven by duty. The other frisked me violently looking for a weapon, hesitating when he found the breast pocket of my jacket bulky with passport and documentation.
"Soy ingles. Hablas ingles?" I said in desperation.
My pleas fell on deaf ears. By now Ness had been ordered off the bike. Satisfied we were unarmed I too was finally allowed to dismount. Our details were copied down and my driving licence and passport scrutinised whilst others in the team maintained their positions. One of the policewomen, backing away from us, gun still levelled, jumped as she backed into a lamp post. The whole sorry debacle was turning to farce. For the first time my eyes lifted to the periphery of the group.
The men there seemed older, wiser, their hair tinged with grey. One or two of them held clipboards and were making notes. Slowly it dawned on us. This was an exercise, a bloody training exercise, it had to be. After looking at our papers they thanked us, piled back into their 'tank' and left. I felt incensed and relieved in equal measure. We looked at each other, laughing nervously, wondering if the guns had been loaded.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p160
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 11, 2018, 09:27:12 AM
At this particular crossing between Los Antigos and Chile Chico, close to the lake, our confidence was tested by a Customs officer slowly running his hand over the Bear's sheepskin seat.
"Que animal es?"
For a moment I was caught unawares.
"Sintetico" I replied.
I cursed to myself. Why hadn't I remembered their Draconian rules? Nothing organic, animal or vegetable, crosses the border. To lose our beloved sheepskin now would be nothing short of a tragedy. We had sat on that long dead animal for 50,000 miles. It had taken us twice through Africa. Please don't confiscate it now, I thought.
"Sintetico" I heard one of them say to the other with a grunt and a wry smile as he waved us through. Whether it was my made-up Spanish word or that he knew damn well the seat cover wasn't synthetic I guess we wil] never know. At Chilean borders from then on we donned the seat's rain-cover well in advance.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p200
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 12, 2018, 10:28:09 AM
Not far from here we pulled off the road to sit in the dirt and eat a picnic lunch. Before we knew it a car drew up. Out stepped three well-built men of Amerindian descent. One of them stood over us demanding to see our passports. They said they were policemen, though none wore uniforms. He flashed me an ID card but it could have been anything. I stood up trying my utmost to look as though we were not to be messed with. I walked over to their car; nothing about it said police to me. My heart was pounding. Could this be it, the dreaded moment when we were robbed or beaten or worse? I showed them our passports but at the same time kept a firm hold. I acted tough and unfriendly. We simply did not know. Both of us could sense danger lingering in the air like some fetid carcass. I cleared up our food, trying to make it obvious we had knives, signalling to Ness we were leaving, quickly. I maintained eye contact with their leader as I straddled the bike. What else could we do? Ness was behind me in an instant. I revved up the engine and within seconds we were dust, speeding northeast. Overreaction? There had been something about them. Only hours before we had been stopped by police at a roadblock - "De donde vienen, a donde van?" (where you coming from, where you go?). They had been friendly and animated, wishing us well, whereas these guys were sullen, nervous even. Perhaps by tapping into that nervousness we had avoided or deflected their strike. Who knows? Who would ever know? Fate was as ever playing its hand.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  pp210-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 13, 2018, 09:17:08 AM
A train took us from Cusco to the beginning of the trek. Ever since we had arrived in Cusco we lived in fear of being soaked, not by God but by irritating little boys with water bombs. It was that time of year, some festival or other, when all Peru's children had carte blanche to drench whoever they wished, especially tourists. The train, unfortunately, offered no protection. It simply served as a highly visible receptacle for a large number of tourists. In short, a target - a fact not wasted on any child in any village along the line. Water bombs flew through the windows with extraordinary accuracy at every stop. Riding the bike in the vicinity of Cusco was even worse. Children would lay in wait around every bend, armed not with bombs but with buckets of water the size of bins. To walk the Inca trail actually came as something of a relief, though we were scarcely any drier, what with the sweat from within and the rain from above.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  pp242-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 14, 2018, 09:35:36 AM
In Colombia we were only too aware that our journey from Ipiales to Pasto would have us pass through one of the most dangerous parts of the country. It happened also to be one of the most beautiful. I had never seen hills quite like these before. From a distance our road appeared as a mere hairline crack which presided over the deepest valley and gorge I had ever seen. Waterfalls, hundreds of feet high yet no wider than a man, tumbled headlong into the river below. Bridges spanned the falls in death-defying leaps leaving us giddy and dazed as we rode across. We had made ourselves a rule not to stop, but felt compelled to at least try to capture some of this magic on film. Eventually the valley broadened and we passed trees with wispy moss hanging like tinsel from every branch.
Pasto itself was an ugly town, sprawling over less dramatic hills. We wasted no time in riding through, pleased and relieved to escape from the crazy city
drivers. A winding road climbed back into the mountains.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p269
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 15, 2018, 02:39:48 PM
The art of getting anything done on the road is to visit smaller and smaller workshops until eventually you meet a man covered in oil, working from a pit of a place, deep downtown. Then you are in business. There was no chance of finding a BMW brake pad, of course there wasn't, but once located, this man will succeed where all others have failed. We found just such a man. He took the old pad, sanded it down, cut a new one the right thickness from a supply of brake liner material, glued it on the original back plate and then left it in a vice for an hour. The pad served us well, all the way to Australia. By the end of the hour we were sitting eating huevos revueltos (scrambled eggs, though the Spanish words always made me smile with visions of 'revolting eggs') with the mechanic and a number of his mates who had wandered over to admire the bike.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p272
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 16, 2018, 05:01:07 PM
For the next thirty kilometres we choked in the exhaust fumes of a hundred straining trucks, each and every one unwilling to stay in line. They were travelling way too slowly. We found ourselves constantly overtaking, becoming increasingly irritated. Our progress was painfully slow and I found myself riding with a little less care. Everyone else seemed happy to overtake blind, why shouldn't we? It was as though the collective stupidity was infectious. Then it happened, the nightmare scenario that no one who rides a motorcycle ever wants to find themselves in. Trapped on the outside of one truck, another was heading straight for us.
We had nowhere to go. The road was narrow. Had the oncoming driver seen us? All I could do was hug into our truck and pray. He pulled over just in the nick of time, inches to spare. I had broken the police riders' golden rule - 'never be the meat in the sandwich'. We had felt the wind of both trucks on either knee. I stopped and apologised to Ness. She had tears on her cheek. I hugged her tight, uttering a further prayer.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p273
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 17, 2018, 12:43:55 PM
Seldom have I felt such genuine friendliness from a couple of strangers, and in a short a space of time. Eager for company they let us camp on the beach and use their facilities. They were your archetypal pair of bachelors who achieved nothing in the space of a day. Laid back does not begin to describe them. Life revolved around a thatched rondavel set back on the beach. Stanley would lie in his hammock under its roof. Dangling from a rafter close to his head hung a rope which he would pull to initiate a gentle swing. I have never seen a man and an object in such utter harmony; I swear he had been born in the thing. Chuck on the other hand would remain upright and talk of the need for some food. He would then potter about his 'kitchen', realise he had nothing in store, ask Stanley if he would like some beans. Stanley was just too nice to remind Chuck that beans was all they had eaten for the last few months if not years, such was the extent of Chuck's cooking. A huge cauldron of kidney beans which remained on the stove from one day to the next was periodically topped up and reheated but never, ever emptied or washed. The beans were quite delicious in a burnt sort of way. The resultant flatulence was more difficult to live with. No wonder the two of them slept on opposite sides of the road.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p297
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 18, 2018, 09:26:58 AM
We had been hit by a wheel rim, which had spun off an oncoming road train, whilst riding the bike. Neither of us could fathom what had happened at the time. One second we were cruising along the Barkly Highway somewhere near Mount Isa, the next we had searing pains in our blood-covered legs whilst the bike was wildly out of control beneath us. Ness had been reading on the back, suddenly in bewilderment and pain she was screaming and thumping my shoulders. The road train had carried on, oblivious to its carnage. Somehow I had brought the bike to a controlled stop before we collapsed on the side of the road. It was at least an hour before a vehicle passed. The driver and his mate rushed us to Cloncurry some forty kilometres away. The remote little town thankfully had a hospital. In fact it was the site of the original Flying Doctors base. I had lost a chunk of muscle out of my right calf and Ness had sustained compound fractures to two of her toes.
As with any accident we had been lucky and unlucky. We were holed up in Cloncurry for days, sickened by our close-call and none too keen to get back on a motorcycle. But, given where we were, we had had very little choice. I can remember only too clearly the look on the doctors' and nurses' faces as we hobbled over to the bike, on our crutches, helping each other aboard before riding into the sunset.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p325
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on June 18, 2018, 09:38:01 AM
I have always been very wary of trucks. Many years ago an oncoming truck shed a whole tyre tread, and I was presented with a large, high speed flying flap of writhing rubber, which was approaching me at our combined speed of close to 200kph. It luckily passed over my head.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 19, 2018, 02:06:23 PM
It was a relaxing way of seeing present day Melaka, in a tug of a boat guided by a man who must have been up and down this river ten thousand times. Thirty years, he told us. Thirty years he had been doing this and he still spoke with unbridled enthusiasm. Throughout our journey I was often surprised at the degree of routine people would accept into their lives. All over the world we had seen men stand outside of a bank, or sit at a desk, or admonish their sheep, or push a plough, hour after hour, day after day, year in year out. What anarchy would reign in the world if they dared question their contentment, if they were more like the two of us, but then who is the happier I wonder, who is the judge?
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p363
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 20, 2018, 09:57:24 AM
However crowded our own cities and pavements become, we maintain that invisible force field around ourselves and our cars which, barring an accident, is never breached. That was simply not the case in the cities and towns of Bangladesh. Cycle-rickshaws filled the streets, wedged in like an interlocking jigsaw. Often, rather than use their dubious brakes, your rider would simply bump into the rickshaw in front, soon to be followed by a nudge or scrape from behind as someone did the same to you. Turning across the traffic required nerves of steel, or a belief in the divine, as motor rickshaws and taxis missed us by a whisker. On the whole this dodgem-car mentality was very good-natured and accepted by all. However, at times, tempers could fray as the tensions of living in such close proximity to so many others became too much to bear. We saw a number of fights between riders. The police, rather than maintain a dignified distance, would often add to the problem. We saw some puncturing the tyres with their pointed canes, out of sheer spite, no pretence.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  pp406-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 27, 2018, 08:15:52 PM
Vehicle paraphernalia littered the ground. Tell-tale blue sparks confirmed what we were looking for. The welders looked up at our approach, their interest aroused by the bike with the huge tank. Of course they could weld it. In fact, our bigger problem was holding them back they were so keen. I barely had time to disconnect the battery from the bike's electrics and wrap a wet cloth around adjacent wires before the frame went under the welder's torch. It made me think of Neville back in Australia. He had been so careful not to overheat the frame for fear of weakening it too much. Now the thing glowed red, threatening to dissolve into a molten lump. Such a repair I know would not be undertaken by BMW back in Europe, certainly not without a complete dismantling, and the use of a jig, and how many hundreds of pounds might that cost? Our welding friend looked particularly pleased with his handiwork as he tried to focus on my face: welding masks or goggles were a luxury they didn't possess here. At first he wouldn't charge for his work. After much persuasion he would accept no more than twenty rupees, about thirty pence.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p430
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 28, 2018, 08:57:55 AM
One very long day took us through Uttar Pradesh to Agra. Three hundred and eighty miles on Indian roads; we were fit to drop. I didn't pee in twelve hours despite countless stops for sickly, fizzy drinks. In one nameless village the usual crowd had formed around us as I felt the cold nectar trickle into the back of my throat. I heard a strange clucking sound as someone or something pinched at my bare arm. I turned and recoiled in fright. At first it was unrecognisable as a man.
He wore only under-pants, his entire body ghostly, plastered in white flour. His face was horribly dark and the fleshy entrails of a chicken were wrapped around his chin and forehead. He had that vacant stare of a madman as he clucked, pecking and poking. The village idiot, he made the most of his minute in the limelight, visibly scaring this visitor to the merriment of all around. I laughed, that falsest of laughs, wishing only that he, or I, should vaporise. I did the next best thing. We mounted the bike and with twist of the wrist we were gone.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p444
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 29, 2018, 09:50:33 AM
The tea was piping hot and tasted divine. Encouraged by our obvious delight, the owner brought us a plate of delicious date cookies. Intent on pleasing still further, he disappeared to return with glowing coals. These he placed on one of his many qalyans, familiar to us from our time in Egypt as shisha or hubble-bubbles. Our host drew several deep breaths on the long coiled pipe. The coals glowed and the tobacco burned as smoke filled the decorative blue glass. He brought it slowly over to our table, placing it on the floor and handing me the pipe. I thanked him and took a long deep draw, filling my lungs with the purified smoke, sensing the buzz of some unknown weed. Sitting back in our extraordinary surrounds I experienced an overpowering sense of contentment.
We had ridden here under our own steam. A single road connected us from Bam to Varanasi to Sylhet to Chittagong but the changes had been immense. This has to be the ultimate joy of overlanding - being able to connect in the most real way, each and every part of our extraordinary world.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p467
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 30, 2018, 09:41:43 AM
Now that we had made it to Tehran the time had come to sort the bike out. We could not have it pouring oil like this any longer. It was a major job. Replacing the offending oil seal required removal of the gearbox and much printed off tips from the internet, posted by helpful 'anoraks' who had taken the trouble to share their experience. Thanks to the 'overland grapevine' we found the most incredible workshop. The capital's police force used BMWs and by the look of this workshop, crashed them on a daily basis. The staff were unbelievably accommodating, allowing me full use of their work space and tools. They even gave me a new rotor and took the old, worn clutch-plate into the motor markets to have a new one made up. At home one has trouble even setting foot in a BMW workshop, let alone taking it over.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p479
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 01, 2018, 12:29:01 PM
Somewhere, not so far west of Urfa, we crossed the Euphrates. From here we began to see remnants of the Roman world. A bridge, built in the second century AD, took us over a narrow gorge. From a distance it could have been part of the land, it blended so perfectly. Closer to, magnificent columns drew us on to the bridge, its ancient cobblestone roadway arching over the water. We rumbled across. Nearly two thousand years old and still in use. A sturdy structure of immense beauty in keeping with the land. I tried not to think of the havoc wrought on our own modern world by the 'architects' of the last fifty years, but with comparisons of concrete motorway bridges flashing thorough my mind I found it sadly impossible.
From the bridge a spectacular road with a series of hairpin bends, took us to a curious mound known as Nemrut Dagi. As we walked the final half kilometre we met a Frenchman who enthused about the place, this was his fifth visit in as s many years. The burial mound, said to be the resting place of King Antiochus, was littered with gigantic heads of stone, the heads of gods, their sculpted faces looked stern and solemn, trapped for eternity in this windswept, desolate place.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p485
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 02, 2018, 12:24:22 PM
South of Trondheim we entered a stunning landscape for which Norway is deservedly famous, that of the western fjords. Whereas further north the scenery was wild and raw, down here it was simply breathtaking. We meandered through, taking our time in this land of grass-covered roofs, glaciers and Trolls. There were even triangular road signs warning of these mythical creatures. Apparently they can be giants or midgets, kindly or fearsome and are the original inhabitants of this icy land, once existing in greater numbers than today, in a time before the ice retreated and humans came to settle. They have only four digits on their hands and feet, very long noses, a lot of hair and a bushy tail. They can change their appearance, taking on many forms including it's said, that of fine young maidens. That is why farmers' sons in these parts always check for a bushy tail first.  I hardly dared imagine the jokes in the Pub on lads' nights out in these parts.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p506
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 03, 2018, 09:29:43 AM
When we came to leave in the morning I parked the bike outside of his house having ridden past the open door of his voluminous garage. We paid him his money and he looked longingly at the loaded bike.
"I'd love to go off on a really long journey, like you, but I can't," he mourned.
I looked back at his garage, inside of which he had two motorbikes, a snowmobile, a 4x4, a Mercedes car and a tractor. I said nothing but wanted to say.
Would you, would you really?
Here was the classic example of a man, like so many these days, trapped by own riches and possessions.
Live your dream, don't dream your life.
Bearback  Pat Garrod  p507
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 04, 2018, 09:48:15 AM
This is sort of my trademark move, passing one idyllic spot after another before succumbing to exhaustion and landing on a big patch of ugly. I should write a guidebook: The Ugly Parts of Beautiful Countries.
If that book ever gets written, that spot in Greece will get four stars out of five. It was a gravel pullout with a view of nothing. It even featured an abandoned transport trailer that exuded the odour of rotting meat. Details like that are what make these places special.
As I munched on stale buns and runny Nutella, I heard the thumping of a loosely fitted piston with slappy valves. It sounded a lot like my bike. The racket came from a red KLE500, a smaller, European version of my machine. The rider turned to look at me as the bike flashed by, and I waved in greeting. Turning around, the rider pulled in to investigate - you don't see too many KLRs in Europe.
"You picked a great place to stop," said the rider as she took off her helmet to reveal soft, feminine features and long auburn hair.
Through Dust and Darkness  Jeremy Kroker  p19
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 05, 2018, 10:17:41 AM
Before leaving the hostel I had asked the owner for directions to Ankara.
"Will you be returning to Istanbul?" he asked.
"I don't plan on it," I said.
"I mean, ever. Will you ever, ever be back with your motorcycle?"
"Uh, no, I don't suppose I will," I said. "OK. Then take the far left lane when you reach the Bosporus Bridge... and don't stop."
Strange. Now it made sense as I approached the end of the bridge. The far left lane was an express lane. It had an automatic billing system for collecting tolls.
Blowing through it triggered an alarm and spinning lights.
I looked around as if to say, "Does anyone else find that siren annoying?" I even cast a bewildered shrug with my free hand, but my other hand rolled on the throttle.
Through Dust and Darkness  Jeremy Kroker  p52
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 06, 2018, 10:27:54 AM
I rolled into Nizip for the night with the intent of taking a run at the Syrian border in the morning. Failing to find a hotel right away, I stopped every hundred metres or so for directions until I found a young man who knew a place.
"We go together," he said. Before I knew what to say about that, he hopped on the bike. Squished together in the space between my gas tank and duffel bag, we rode to a cheap hotel where the man got off, tipped his hat and walked away.
Through Dust and Darkness  Jeremy Kroker  p83
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 07, 2018, 09:58:46 AM
Afram stopped the car at an intersection. In North America, we look past the junction to traffic lights on the other side, but Syrian traffic lights are on the
near corner where our stop lines would be. In theory, this should force drivers to stay back in order to see the light, but it only works that way in Europe. In the Middle East, the first row of cars stops right at the intersection, ahead of the signal. They wait there until motorists lined up behind them - motorists who can see the light - start honking when it goes green.
"Why do they do that?" I asked.
Afram shook his head, "I don't know" he sighed. "It always causes a delay. First the light changes, then they honk. Then the cars in front react to the honking. Then they move. It's stupid."
Through Dust and Darkness  Jeremy Kroker  p92
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 08, 2018, 12:23:26 PM
To avoid the distinction of becoming the only tourist in history to visit Palmyra without seeing the archaeological marvel of its colonnade, I rode past the ruins in the morning on the way out of town. I had intended to park the bike and walk around for a few minutes, snapping ho-hum obligatory photos, but my eyes lit up when I saw two locals and their tiny motorcycles on the ancient path. Suddenly I had a better idea. Backtracking a bit, I found a spot where I could just squeeze the Oscillator between two boulders to access to the site. I rode along the gravel walkway between limestone pillars before parking beneath a towering archway.
Perhaps I'd find archaeology more interesting if I could view every site in this manner, especially the museums.
Through Dust and Darkness  Jeremy Kroker  p119
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 09, 2018, 09:36:00 AM
I poked at the neutral sensor below the shift lever until the green light flickered on. The engine didn't want to start at first, but it finally sputtered to life. After that it rose in pitch to healthy idle. The exhaust came in metered bursts, making the leaves jump on a nearby bush. In the cool air you could see the smoke. Sometimes the Oscillator puffed out a smoke ring just for fun. As the bike warmed up, I looked it over.
"I know I've been ignoring you," I whispered, patting the gas tank, "and I'm sorry." I strapped up my helmet, still talking softly to the machine. "It's just that I haven't left Beirut much these past few weeks, and when I did I had company. You know. It's easier to take a taxi."
Through Dust and Darkness  Jeremy Kroker  p159
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 10, 2018, 09:35:01 AM
One thing I never cared for, though, was that you could not flush your toilet paper, because of the narrow plumbing it would plug the system. Instead, you placed it into a plastic basket for someone to come in and empty later. What I liked even less were the bathrooms like this one that had no baskets. No toilet paper. Just a hose.
In time, I would come to appreciate this system, too, but for the moment I found myself on the bottom of a steep learning curve. When I had finished, I remained squatting while I reached for the coil of hose on the floor. Beads of water collected on its surface from a previous user. It had a waxy coating of some kind that transferred to my hands when I handled it. At least this one had a nozzle with a trigger to start the flow. A nice touch, I thought. Some of them free flow like a garden hose. With one hand, I bunched up my pants to keep them dry; while aiming the hose with the other.
Having shot water pistols at targets in a summer fair, I knew that direct hits are rare. A clean hit would be especially difficult in this case because the target was behind me. Positioning the nozzle by feel and intuition, I paused for a moment before pulling the trigger. It required commitment. Then, at the last second, I bowed my head, craning my neck between my legs in an effort to see where the hose pointed.
That's how a ricochet of water hit me square in the face. Even then, the stream carried enough force to hit the door and splatter throughout the room, raining down on me in a fine mist. Apparently, the hose could also be used in an emergency to scatter an angry crowd.
Through Dust and Darkness  Jeremy Kroker  pp202-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 11, 2018, 11:02:33 AM
This would be a perfect motorcycle ride, I thought, clearly missing the Oscillator. I shifted in my seat, trying to find a position to alleviate the
discomfort in my back. Crossing my legs helped, but only momentarily, and every time I moved them I bumped the seat of the person in front of me. With all the shuffling around, I risked irritating the young man seated next to me as well, although he seemed preoccupied. I never looked at him to verify, but I'm fairly certain he was sobbing.
Man, I hate buses, I thought. If I had my bike I could pull over for a rest, maybe even set up camp in the desert. The more I thought about this, the more claustrophobic I became. It was the lack of control as much as the confined spaces that bothered me.
Through Dust and Darkness  Jeremy Kroker  pp235-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 12, 2018, 09:20:31 AM
I wondered if he might have had a point. Maybe, like all the others - the potential sponsors who never replied, the bike manufacturers who shook their heads, the accessory makers who shrugged awkwardly, the shipping companies who patronised me, the officials who rejected my visa applications - he sensed that I was out of my depth.
After all, I was leaving with little more than a vague plan to fly to New York, where I intended to pick up my bike from the docks, ride to my aunt's home in Detroit, then continue west to California, where I hoped to ship my bike to New Zealand or Australia and see where the road took me next.
Apart from buying a standby ticket to New York and packing up my bike for its passage on a cargo ship, I'd done very little preparation, certainly none of the years of research, fund-raising physical training and logistics planning that I'd noticed other serious travellers had undertaken. I'd spent the previous months working in a pub to amass some savings and when I wasn't working I'd practised repairing my bike using the instructions in a Haynes manual.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on July 12, 2018, 09:37:07 AM
I've just finished that book, quite a good read.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 13, 2018, 08:58:31 AM
A few months later, I took off on a tour of Europe with Rick on his Norton Commando, which looked great and sounded wonderful but convinced me never to ride a British bike. It vibrated so much, bits regularly falling off it, that I had to ride behind Rick, picking up the parts that his bike shed in its wake. The indicator, the backlight and the number plate all shook themselves free, some of them more than once. I would have found it funny had it not been such a lesson in why British bikes no longer led the world.
We rode down through France, crossed the Mediterranean on a ferry from Marseille to Corsica. After spending several weeks riding around the island we took another ferry to Pisa, then rode down to the heel of Italy, before turning back for home via Austria and Germany, by which time I was fully convinced I'd made the right choice of bike. Whereas Rick could hardly walk at the end of each day, I arrived back in London feeling like I'd barely left home.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p21
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 13, 2018, 10:45:16 PM
I've just finished that book, quite a good read.

Just finished it a minute ago myself.  Powerful book!  You'll possibly be interested to see the excerpts I've chosen.  As usual I've focused on the motorcycle aspect, but that's only part of her life's adventure.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 14, 2018, 05:52:23 PM
Just as I was reassembling the final parts of the bike, a guy pulled up on a Honda Gold Wing. Like my friends, I wasn't a bike snob, but there was something Gold Wings that irritated me and many other bikers. It wasn't so much the bikes as their riders. Compared to BMWs, Gold Wings looked like motorized easy chairs, often attracting riders who were rash and flash as their transport.
In his early thirties, reasonably good-looking and far too smooth, the Gold Wing rider who'd pulled up beside me was a perfect case in point. Dressed in a leather flying jacket with a sheepskin collar, walked with a swagger that said he thought he was something rather special.
He made a few remarks as I reattached my tank to my BMW, offering tips that were of little help to someone who knew their bike considerably better than him, but other than that, he said very little until I'd finished.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  pp49-50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 15, 2018, 05:58:21 PM
But the riders on either side edged ahead, the two flank riders to my rear moving forwards to take their spaces. They'd done this before, I realized. And I
wondered what usually came next. I had to get out of there before they boxed me in.
I accelerated up to 70 mph. They matched my speed. I twisted the throttle some more, glimpsed at my speedometer, saw the needle push past 80 mph... 85... 90 mph.
Still they stuck to me. But I could sense they were struggling to keep up. I twisted the old girl's throttle further, spied an escape in the distance.
A corner.
If I could make it to the bend before they pushed me off the road, I'd be safe. Their big ugly choppers and Harley-Davidson hogs could match my BMW for speed in a straight line, but cornering was another matter.
I twisted the throttle further, edged slightly then watched three of the bikes - two on either side; one behind me - match me for speed. But now, only a few hundred yards from the bend, they could see what was coming. They started to slow and I moved ahead of them, taking the corner as fast as I could, glorying in the superior handling of my BMW over their dumb meathead hogs. Another two bends followed in quick succession and I watched them in my mirror, dropping back fast, knowing the game was over. With a further twist of the throttle, I left them far behind me, turned them into dots. The race for the corner had shown them up for what they were - five idiots who wanted to frighten a lone woman rider.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p54
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 16, 2018, 09:38:09 AM
Weekends became increasingly frantic as my departure time ticked ever closer. One late September Saturday, I rose at 6 am to ride through torrential rain to a BMW garage in north Sydney to get the bevel drive in my rear hub replaced. I then rode to John Todd in west Sydney to work on my panniers until late afternoon, when I rode to the pub, where I worked until closing time, long past midnight. In early October, I rode to John Todd to finish my side panniers and top box. At last they were complete, but when I looked at my bike with its aluminium luggage system, which protruded about a foot either side of the bike with the top box eighteen inches above the rear seat, I wondered how on earth I was going to ride it. Normally I'd swing my leg over the seat, but the boxes made that impossible. After several attempts, I realised the only way was to goosestep up onto the bike and then slide myself in between the tank and top box.
Even though the panniers were empty, my BMW felt very different; huge and unwieldy. My leg movement was limited and paddling forwards on the bike was difficult. But, it worked well and the panniers felt very secure. Like me, John was a perfectionist and insisted on several final touches, including two aero-flaps that folded out from the side of the top box; an attempt to make the vast contraption more aerodynamic.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  pp86-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 17, 2018, 11:19:13 AM
It was nearly 1,500 miles from Port Augusta to Perth. In between lay the Nullarbor Plain, 75,000 square miles of virtually uninhabitable scrubby desert along the south Australian coast. Crossing the Nullarbor was one of those quintessential traveller experiences celebrated on bumper stickers and backpack patches, and now it was my turn. I'd been told that over a distance of 500 miles or more, I'd see no sign of human life at all. No water, no roadhouses, no petrol stations. Nothing.
The next morning, I started the long ride west, laden with extra petrol canisters in my top box because I'd been told that roadhouses across the Nullarbor were spaced far further apart than in other parts of the outback. With a full tank I could do around 300 miles before going onto reserve, which gave me another 30 miles. The extra gallon I was carrying would give me another 60 miles. With a range of nearly 400 miles I should be fine, provided I took it steady and didn't ride too fast. A couple of hours later, I was fully enveloped in the climatic challenges of the infamous desert, but instead of dehydrating in the stifling heat as I had expected, I was shivering with cold beneath my full winter gear.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  pp109-10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 18, 2018, 10:03:56 AM
Panic set in, but having never seen a bike fire before, I didn't know what to do, how to douse the fire safely. I grabbed my jumper, jammed it into the space beneath the tank, hoping it would smother the flames. To my surprise, the smoke died down, almost as quickly as it had appeared, then stopped altogether, leaving a nasty stench of burnt plastic and rubber.
I crouched down to see if I could work out what had happened under the petrol tank. Hoping the flames wouldn't reignite if I pulled out my jumper, I tugged the singed material out of the gap and peered into the space beneath the tank and the seat. No flames. No smoke. Just a messy congealed mess of matted plastic.
"Oh shit."
"Bad?"
"It doesn't look good," I said. "I think all the wiring has completely burnt out and melted itself into one big lump."
"But you know what to do, don't you?"
"I can fix just about anything on this bike, but I'm not much good when it comes to electrics."
Simone's eyes were big. "What are we going to do?"
We hadn't passed anything for more than 100 miles; I didn't have a clue. Gazing forlornly down the road, my eyes focused on a small shack about quarter of a mile away. Behind it was a bungalow; in front of it was a blue sign. I could just about read it. I squinted into the sun. Auto-electrician.
"I don't bloody believe it." I pointed at the sign.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p113
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 19, 2018, 09:28:18 AM
I turned on the ignition and pointed at the red alternator light, which was on. I started my bike, opened the throttle, pointed at the red light, which was still on. It should have gone out, so I waved my hands, palms pointed downwards, hoping he'd understand what I was trying to convey: 'That shouldn't happen'. We hadn't spoken a word, but the Thai man seemed to understand and turned to walk away, beckoning me with his finger. With nothing to lose, I climbed on my bike, rode it slowly behind him, around a corner and down a street for about 300 metres to a garage that was open to the street.
He pointed at my bike, then at the garage, so I rode inside and watched as he explained my problem in Thai to two overalled men in the workshop. Head scratches, pointed fingers, shrugged shoulders all followed. Eventually, working together, we figured out that one of the diodes no longer functioned correctly.
If I'd been at home, I would have replaced the whole diode board, but in a tiny Thai town there were no BMW spare parts. Instead we unsoldered the faulty one, soldered a new diode in place and reconnected the board above my alternator.
I twisted the BMW's key, started her up. The red light went out. He'd repaired the fault and saved my skin. And still not a single word exchanged between us. His cobbled-together diode board is still working on my BMW today.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p141
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 20, 2018, 09:19:21 AM
On 17 April, the day before the Madras boat was due to sail from Penang, I felt ready to leave. I packed up my things, then went to say goodbye to all the family. I found the mother in the kitchen and wandered over to thank her for her extraordinary hospitality. Clutching her small bottle of 'curo', she extended a creased hand and offered me the antiseptic. I was very touched and leaned towards her, intending to hug her, but my eyes were drawn to something extraordinary behind the woman, on the table.
The dog I'd run over.
Most of the animal was missing, but it was unmistakable. The knife marks were straight and clean, the work of a skilled butcher. Well, that explained the generous portions of meat with every meal.
For a few moments, not knowing what to say or do, I hesitated. Then I accepted the offer of the curo, clasping my hands together in front of my chest and bowing my head with a smile to show my thanks. Once I'd got over the thought of what I'd been eating for the last week, I realised I felt comforted to know what had happened to the dog. I had killed it and provided food for the family. No wonder were so welcoming to me.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p148
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 21, 2018, 05:32:56 PM
After dinner, Sanatan returned to take me to the airport to cash some travellers' cheques. News of my arrival in the city had clearly got around; Sanatan was now accompanied by ten bikers and we picked up many more along the route. Riding pillion on Sanatan's bike was the first time I'd been on a Royal Enfield. We bumped along potholed streets through slums and backstreets. The old decrepit houses, once handsome, fascinated me. The streets, alive with huge crowds of people, let bikes move freely through the throngs. It was the first time I'd really seen India and it was a great way to spend my birthday evening. But once we reached the edge of Calcutta, the mood changed.
Accelerating to 60 mph in total darkness, I realised Sanatan and his two dozen mates regarded themselves as the Calcutta equivalent of Hell's Angels, giving every impression of having little interest in surviving the night. Buses and trucks were passed on blind corners.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p168
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 22, 2018, 12:25:55 PM
I stopped under a tree in a deserted spot to allow us both to recover. I'd been there for less than a minute when a small group of Indian men appeared. I looked around. The landscape was empty, yet somehow they'd appeared from nowhere. More people arrived and soon I was surrounded by about thirty Indian men, all of them staring and pushing closer for a better look.
I wondered if maybe they'd never seen a bike like mine before and guessed they'd never imagined one being ridden by a woman. After a few minutes I realised I wasn't going to be left alone, so I dipped my eyes and ignored them until a faint murmuring started to spread through the crowd. Looking up, I noticed one of the men pointing at the two large cylinders that stuck out from the sides of the BMW engine.
"Oooh... double engine... double engine," the man was saying. A second man, his head poking over the speaker's shoulder for a closer look, took up the chant. 
"Oooh... double engine... double engine," said the second Indian, turning to a third man at his side.
Aware that thirty pairs of eyes were watching my every move, I put on my helmet and gloves, slid myself onto my bike and pressed the starter motor. When the engine burst into life, the entire crowd gasped and jumped back.
"Oooh... selfie start... selfie start."
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  pp171-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 23, 2018, 02:57:25 PM
The key was badly bent and broke in half when I tried to straighten it.
I found a blacksmith's workshop down a back alley in Kathmandu and showed the remains of my key to a kid no more than ten years old who was crouching at its entrance. Using sign language, I indicated that I needed a replacement.
From a strip of metal about 1.5mm thick, the boy cut out a key shape, round at the top with a long, straight section. He filed the straight section so that it was the correct length and width, then put the round part in a vice and bent the long section over. Working entirely by eye, he used a hacksaw to cut grooves into the long section, then flipped it over and cut the grooves on the other side.
There's no way this will ever work, I thought to myself, but I wasn't going to stop him. Anything is worth a try and it's amazing to watch him, even if the key doesn't work.
Continuing to work entirely by eye, the boy fashioned something that looked like a very convincing facsimile of my BMW key. Although unconvinced that it would work, I paid him $2, a small price to pay for watching the boy's extraordinary craftsmanship. Back at Cosy Corner Lodge and with little expectation of my new key actually working, I put it in the ignition. It slipped in easily, a surprise in itself. Then, with no hope of it actually working, I twisted my Nepalese approximation of a BMW key.
The old girl's ignition lit up. Astonished, I grinned from ear to ear. The bloody thing worked.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p196
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 24, 2018, 09:58:55 AM
A short day's ride took Robert and me to Pushkar, a pilgrim destination beside a small lake in the middle of a rocky desert that had become a magnet for hippies. Although the journey was short, the road was littered with crashes. Most days we'd see eight or ten accidents, but on this short stretch of road, we saw two or three times as many. Some of them were totally bizarre - a lorry lay overturned in the middle of a field; a truck that had collided with the only telegraph pole, ending up perpendicular to the road, blocking it completely.
When vehicles were damaged or broke down, the drivers never moved them to the side of the road. Instead, they repaired them in the middle of the carriageway, jacked up and supported on rocks they'd collected from the surrounding area. Then, when they'd finished their repairs, they drove off, leaving the huge rocks in the middle of the road, ready to cause another accident.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  pp210-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 25, 2018, 09:08:23 AM
After a week on the houseboat, Robert and I knew we needed to get back on the road, which was when we discovered that someone had stolen my penknife and my BMW lighter. I was furious. My lighter was of sentimental value, but my penknife was absolutely essential to me, on a par with the three plastic bags that I'd carried and carefully looked after all the way from Australia to wrap up belongings that needed to be kept dry in my tank bag. Like decent plastic bags that wouldn't rip or tear, a proper penknife with sharp blades was a rarity in India.
At the police station, I braced myself for the same old routine of official indifference to any crime reported by a Westerner. To my astonishment, the Srinagar police were amazingly efficient and actually threatened to put the owner of the houseboat in prison if he didn't find the thief, but then Robert noticed one of the officers shouting down the wrong end of a telephone earpiece and my hopes were shattered.
"It's all an illusion," said Robert. "Nothing will happen."
He was correct.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p232
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 26, 2018, 09:24:15 AM
Knowing that Iran was not included in the list of countries which were typed on the front cover for which my carnet was valid, I handed it to the official, fully prepared to do whatever was needed - a bribe, a vaguely plausible explanatory story - to get my bike into the country. But the official didn't even look at me as he shook his head and tapped the list of countries for which it was valid. Every country along my route was on the list - except Iran.
Hoping to appeal to his good nature, I beamed my widest, friendliest smile, but the expression on the official's face didn't soften. Instead, he tapped the list of countries again, this time a bit hard harder, raised his eyebrows and handed the carnet back to me, leaving me trying to fathom meaning from his silence.
I thanked the official with a nod of my head, stepped away and huddled with Robert. "I think he's suggesting that I add Iran to the list of countries on my carnet."
"You sure?" said Robert.
"No - but I've got nothing to lose if I do it."
"Except being thrown in jail for forging documents."
It was a good point, but I was convinced I could talk myself out of trouble if necessary. "I'm going to give it a go."
Turning around, I smiled at the official and pointed at a biro lying on his desk, thinking that if he lent it to me, I could suggest that he had condoned my alteration of my carnet. The official nodded and handed me his pen as he looked away. With 'Iran' carefully added and my heart in my mouth, I handed my carnet back to the official.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p259
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 27, 2018, 12:25:35 PM
There was a knock on the door. I reached for the door handle, started to open it.
Crash!
The door slammed open and I was pushed aside. Four uniformed policemen burst into our room. One of them went straight for my tank bag. Another officer targeted Robert's pannier, while a third policeman picked up my diary from the desk, flicked through it. In seconds, they were everywhere.
I looked at Robert. "Watch them... watch them! Or they might plant something on us."
Maybe my paranoia was unwarranted, but ever since Midnight Express, a 1970s book and film about an American student caught smuggling hashish out of Turkey, the Turkish authorities had gained a disproportionate reputation for corruption and ruthlessness regarding drug trafficking. We had nothing to hide and should not have had anything to worry about, but I knew that didn't guarantee the police wouldn't emerge with some form of contraband that they would triumphantly claim they'd found in our possession.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p270
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 29, 2018, 04:57:53 PM
At about eight o'clock, my mother came downstairs to collect the papers. "Elspeth! You're here!" We hugged and after a few comments about my appearance, I felt her interest wane. Life had returned to normal for my mother. "Why hasn't the Sunday paper been delivered?" she asked.
"I don't know."
"Hmm." Mum looked annoyed.
While she disappeared to solve her newspaper crisis, I went upstairs and found something to eat in the kitchen. Emerging from the kitchen, I bumped into my father on the landing. "Oh hello," he said, showing no surprise or excitement at my arrival. It was almost as if I'd never left home. I hadn't expected bunting, streamers and banners to herald my return, but some kind of minor celebration wouldn't have gone amiss. Upset and confused, I tried to rationalise my family's indifference, telling myself that this was because my parents had always expected me to do what I'd set out to do. Their apparent disinterest, I told myself, was a tacit vote of confidence in my abilities.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  pp287-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 30, 2018, 09:32:27 AM
I found it difficult to move out of the only home I had ever known. Packing up my belongings I found my aluminium panniers and top box in the attic. Ten years had passed since I'd left on my journey, which now seemed like a distant memory. I'd hung on to the boxes for purely sentimental reasons, but now, thinking I'd never use them again and that no one gave a damn about my journey anyway, I found a skip outside the garage and sat them on top of a pile of builder's rubble. I stood there looking at the stickers of all the countries I'd ridden through. There were signatures, little notes and drawings that friends I had met along the way had scribbled onto them, cherished mementos of our time together. I took one last look, turned around and walked away.
Lone Rider  Elspeth Beard  p298
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 31, 2018, 10:05:06 AM
I had become one with the bike and was now thinking the bike around the curves, instead of riding it. I felt like a dancer, dancing with a beautiful woman on stage, while the whole world watched in awe of our talent. When suddenly, there it was again, that gut wrenching sound of grinding metal.
"Oops!" I said more nervously. There was a long drag on the left foot peg and it was followed by a deep grinding sound that I could feel in the handlebars and seat. I knew even before the bike began to react that it was a hard-hit. I had gone past the upward, folding ability of the foot peg and had hit the frame! The bike now began a dance of its own.
Though unintentionally, I had hit the frame several times as a test rider and I was now glad for those experiences. I knew what was coming and how best to counteract it.
The bike suddenly felt like I was riding a dolphin. It was in a leaned over, high speed wobble with a hopping motion. Though there is no silver bullet solution to a problem like this, I knew if I handled this incorrectly, the outcome could be fatal.
From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  p14
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 01, 2018, 11:34:36 AM
There were three riders in my life that lit matches that ignited my fire for motorcycle adventures. The first match was lit by a a guy we called Mr. Beezer. We called him Mr. Beezer because he rode a 1965, 650 BSA twin. He lived on the street just north of me.  His BSA was one of the most beautiful bikes, I had ever seen.
It was candy apple red with a chrome gas tank and fenders. It had twin trumpet pipes that made an incredibly beautiful sound. I remember stopping and listening, every time he fired it up. You could almost say I had a love affair with Mr. Beezer's Beezer.
From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  p67
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 02, 2018, 09:29:25 AM
The second match on the smouldering embers was the 1969 television series, Then Came Bronson, with Michael Parks. Jim Bronson rode a red 1968, 900 Harley Sportster— a bike I dreamed of owning. The show was little more than a half hour Harley commercial, but I loved it. The beginning of the show always began with Bronson pulling up to a red light. He had one duffel bag tied to the handlebars and another to the rear seat. As Bronson waited for the light to change, in the lane next to him was a guy in his mid to late forties with a suit, tie and hat. He was seated in a station wagon. The look on his face told a thousand words. I can still recite their conversation.
Various shots of Bronson riding the open road are shown as the credits are mentioned at both the beginning and end of each program. Though I never saw the credits and remember very little about the stories themselves, I very distinctly remember the strong feelings I felt at both ends of each show, as I watched him ride. As I watched him, I was seeing me. My love affair with bikes and for adventure was now deeply embedded.
From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  pp67-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 03, 2018, 09:40:54 AM
The third match that made my passion for motorcycles completely unquenchable was lit by a lone rider I found alongside the road south of Anchorage, Alaska, in 1971.
I was standing next to a small river along the old, narrow, two lane, winding Seward highway, near Portage Glacier. My wife and I, along with some friends, were watching the salmon run. The salmon would come upstream in large schools. As we were watching the two to three foot long, orange and red coloured salmon swimming past, I heard the sound of a small motorcycle engine. I looked up and saw an older man wearing a white helmet and green insulated overalls. His little bike was heavily bagged up and he looked like he had been on the road quite a while. The bike with its huge bag tied on behind, looking more like a camel than a motorcycle, was a small green Cushman Eagle.
The Cushman Eagle was a 318cc, 8 horsepower, two speed scooter. It would do about forty mph- I had seen only about a half dozen of them. The US Military used them during WWII.
Like me, this traveller had stopped to watch the salmon run. Thinking that he was a local from the Kenai Peninsula and heading for Anchorage, I smiled and said, "Where are you from?"
He smiled back and said, "I'm on my way back to the Lower Forty-eight." He told me he had ridden all the way up here to Alaska. His Cushman had seventy-eight thousand miles on it. I asked him how old he was and if I remember correctly, he was fifty-nine. I was so impressed! His great love for adventure showed all over his face as he told me of his travels and of his journey to Alaska on his Cushman.
As I listened to him talk, I felt a burning inside me. I promised myself that one day, I too, was going to go on a great adventure such as his.
From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  pp68-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on August 03, 2018, 09:54:19 AM
If you google Samuel Jeppsen, he has some great m/c road vids on YouTube.  :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on August 03, 2018, 10:29:03 AM
Who are you quoting Kev?   :nahnah
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on August 03, 2018, 10:35:40 AM
replying to Biggles post
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 04, 2018, 09:05:07 AM
Harley-Davidson has long been known for its potato-potato sound. The sound was unique to Harley for a long time. So unique to the motorcycle industry and so sought after by V-twin riders, other manufacturers have gone to great lengths to copy the Harley sound. It stems from using a single pin crankshaft instead of what most manufacturers did, creating a crankshaft similar to bicycle peddles. Harley basically connected both pistons the same peddle, making it where both go up and down at the same time. It created a very odd sounding motor at an idle.
It was an idea Harley came up with while looking for the most economical way to produce a V-twin engine. The fluke decision created an arrhythmic sounding and shaking motorcycle. However, it also gave it a heartbeat and it was an instant hit.    
From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  p79
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 05, 2018, 12:09:47 PM
I bought a new 1976 Suzuki GT750, two-stroke, triple. It was faster than anything I had ever ridden. It was nicknamed the Water-Buffalo. It was the first successful water cooled, big-bore, production bike. My Zook was screamer! Also, it was Julie's favourite bike. I loved it too, but I was just not a lover of the "Multi's". To me, the bikes were too smooth and the engines didn't make the right sound. Especially mine! Being a big-bore, two-stroke, triple, though it was fast, the engine sounded like a can full of angry bees.
Almost every year, the Japanese turned out bigger and better bikes. The British bikes, BSA, Triumph and Norton, got to point they could no longer compete. One by one, Japanese quality and dependability drove them all out of business. Even Harley-Davidson was feeling the impact of the Japanese. The Japanese had something Harley didn't have- low cost, high dependability and trouble free motorcycles that didn't leak oil!
From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  p107
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 06, 2018, 07:49:37 AM
In early December of 2009, I heard about a ride- more of a race- where one thousand Harley-Davidson riders would take off from Key West, Florida. They would be winding through America, into Canada, up the ALCAN (Alaska-Canada) Highway, into Alaska and down the Kenai Peninsula to Homer. After the one hundred and ten mile ride from Key West to the mainland, it would be every man for himself, to Alaska. The riders would receive a new map about every fifteen hundred miles and the route would be wandering. There would be no freeways and the ride would be on secondary roads and rural routes.
It was called the Hoka Hey. The words are Sioux. They are the words Chief Crazy Horse used for his war cry that he yelled at the beginning of battle. There is no direct translation and many of the Sioux will tell you it means, "It's a good day to die". Other meanings could be, Let's do it, Let's go, Let's fight, On to victory or CHARGE! To the organisers of this motorcycle challenge, it meant, "It's a good day to ride".
From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  p141
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 07, 2018, 10:52:50 AM
We were to take off at 6:45 a.m. This had something to do with an Indian tradition about leaving at sunrise. At 5 a.m. most all were in position, lined up four abreast all throughout the Marriott parking lots. I was fifty yards from the start banner.
As I looked ahead of me and behind me, there were bikes as far as I could see. They went from the starting line, to me, to round the corner and out of sight as the parking lot continued around the building. All of us wanted to take off. Finally James Red Cloud decided to give the okay to start. The Key West PD began blocking off the intersections and let us leave as a group.
The dream had begun for all of us. The sound of hundreds of Harleys starting up and rumbling, as they were trying to warm up, broke the peace and quiet of the morning. I am sure that sound was annoying to some and I am sure that there were many patrons in the Marriott that were glad to see us go. But to me, it was music to my ears and it came as a shot of adrenaline to my heart.
From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  p159
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 08, 2018, 09:10:09 AM
I mounted up and headed toward the west Texas border. At about 1am I pulled over again for some much needed sleep. As I left the south behind and hit the Midwest, the humidity was now gone, but my rash was still there. It was now in full bloom. In fact it was so painful, I had to get a room and take a shower. I had been on the road for four days, without a shower or change of underwear and I could hardly walk or sit.
When I took my shower, I noticed that I had a huge bruise on my derriere about twelve inches around. It was the exact size of my Sportster seat. Along with the big bruise was a huge and painful rash. A shower, a lot of talcum powder and some clean underwear, made it where I could ride by morning. The pain was still there, but it was manageable and I was smiling again.
From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  pp168-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 09, 2018, 07:49:45 AM
As I rode the Alaskan Range, I saw only one other rider. He was a Hoka Hey rider by the name of Greg. I had noticed his unusual bike in Key West. It was a homemade looking Hardtail.
A Hardtail is a bike that has no rear suspension. I had seen Greg in Rock Springs, Wyoming. Being an interesting looking fellow, I went over to meet him. When I asked him what year his bike was, he said, "Take your pick! I made it from parts from almost every year." When I said, "It's a Hardtail! It doesn't have any suspension!" He smiled and pushed on his seat with his hand and showed me that his seat gave a little. He then said, "See... it has suspension!" I smiled back. His gas tank had been a 6.5 gallon tank. Because we were not allowed tanks larger than 6.25 gallons, Greg knocked two dents in his, to make it a 6.25. Hmmm! Very creative!
From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  p196
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 10, 2018, 08:41:52 PM
As my thoughts began to turn back to my own entrance into my own Promised Land, I realized I was smiling and inside I was jumping with sheer excitement. I began laughing out loud rode and raised my visor to feel the cool breeze in my face. As I was laughing, I thought, it's true- only a motorcycle rider can understand why a dog sticks his head out the car window! That thought made me laugh even more. As I continued riding, as the dream continued to unfold in front of me, it was all I could do to not begin yelling, "YAAA-HOOOU... YAAA-HOOOH!" I had been victorious and the moment was mine! In my mind, there were crowds and they were waving and cheering me on!! I was beaming from ear to ear as I rode along and looked into their faces.
I then began looking for Spit Road. Then finally I saw it.
First Spit Road, and then almost 8,500 miles after leaving Key West, there it was. The banner that read,
'Finish'

From Faith To Trust On A Motorcycle  Samuel Jeppsen  p202
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 11, 2018, 09:04:17 PM
Nightly I'd run up from the hangar, upon the last stroke of work spurring my tired feet to be nimble. The very movement refreshed them, after the day-long restraint of service. In five minutes my bed would be down, ready for the night: in four more I was in breeches and puttees, pulling on my gauntlets as I walked over to my bike, which lived in a garage-hut, opposite. Its tyres never wanted air, its engine had a habit of starting at second kick: a good habit, for only by frantic plunges upon the starting pedal could my puny weight force the engine over the seven atmospheres of its compression.
Boanerges' first glad roar at being alive again nightly jarred the huts of Cadet College into life. "There he goes, the noisy so-and-so," someone would say enviously in every hut. It is part of an airman's profession to be knowing with engines: and a thoroughbred engine is our undying satisfaction. The camp wore the virtue of my Brough like a flower in its cap. Tonight Tug and Dusty came to the step of our hut to see me off. "Running down to Smoke, perhaps?" jeered Dusty; hitting at my regular game of London and back for tea on fine Wednesday afternoons.
The Mint  T. E. Lawrence (Lawrence of Arabia)  p184
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 12, 2018, 09:12:03 PM
Now for it. The engine's final development is fifty-two horse-power. A miracle that all this docile strength waits behind one tiny lever for the pleasure of my hand.
Another bend: and I have the honour of one of England's straightest and fastest roads. The burble of my exhaust unwound like a long cord behind me. Soon my speed snapped it, heard only the cry of the wind which my battering head split and fended aside. The cry rose with my speed to a shriek: while the air's coldness streamed like two jets of iced water into my dissolving eyes. I screwed them to slits, and focused my sight two hundred yards ahead of me on the empty mosaic of the tar's gravelled undulations.
Like arrows the tiny flies pricked my cheeks: and sometimes a heavier body, some house-fly or beetle, would crash into face or lips like a spent bullet. A glance at the speedometer seventy-eight*. Boanerges is warming up. I pull the throttle right open, on the top of the slope, and we swoop flying across the dip, and up-down up-down the switchback beyond: the weighty machine launching itself like a projectile with a whirr of wheels into the air at the take-off of each rise, to land lurchingly with such a snatch of the driving chain as jerks my spine like a rictus.
The Mint  T. E. Lawrence  pp184-5
*mph
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 13, 2018, 04:00:45 PM
Once we so fled across the evening light, with the yellow sun on my left, when a huge shadow roared just overhead. A Bristol Fighter from Whitewash Villas, our neighbour aerodrome, was banking sharply round. I checked speed an instant to wave: and the slip-stream of my impetus snapped my arm and elbow astern, like a raised flail. The pilot pointed down the road towards Lincoln. I sat hard in the saddle, folded back my ears and went away after him, like a dog after a hare. Quickly we drew abreast, as the impulse of his dive to my level exhausted itself.
The Mint  T. E. Lawrence  p185
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 14, 2018, 08:52:20 PM
They were hoping I was a flash in the pan, giving them best. Open went my throttle again. Boa crept level, fifty feet below: held them: sailed ahead into the clean and lonely country. An approaching car pulled nearly into its ditch at the sight of our race. The Bif was zooming among the trees and telegraph poles with my scurrying spot only eighty yards ahead. I gained though, gained steadily: was perhaps five miles an hour the faster. Down went my left hand to give the engine two extra dollops of oil, for fear that something was running hot: but an overhead JAP twin, super-tuned like this one, would carry on to the moon and back, unfaltering.
We drew near the settlement. A long mile before the first houses I closed down and coasted to the cross-roads by the hospital. Bif caught up, banked, climbed and turned for home, waving to me as long as he was in sight. Fourteen miles from camp, we are, here: and fifteen minutes since I left Tug and Dusty at the hut door.
The Mint  T. E. Lawrence  p186
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 15, 2018, 12:08:45 PM
By then my belly had forgotten its lunch, my eyes smarted and streamed! Out again, to sluice my head under the White Hart's yard-pump. A cup of real chocolate and a muffin at the teashop: and Boa and I took the Newark road for the last hour of daylight. He ambles at forty-five and when roaring his utmost, surpasses the hundred. A skittish motor-bike with touch of blood in it is better than all the riding animals on earth, because of its logical extension of our faculties, and the hint, the provocation, to excess conferred by its honeyed untiring smoothness. Because Boa loves me, he gives me five more miles of speed than a stranger would get from him.
The Mint  T. E. Lawrence  p186
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 16, 2018, 09:51:31 AM
Hell in this case is the Suzuka racetrack, designed back in 1962 by some fiendish Japanese, obviously intent on giving racers sleepless nights well into the next millennium.
The circuit is tough enough in itself but it's the viscous Japanese summer which makes the Suzuka Eight Hours bike racing's Dante's Inferno. As you get deeper, the ogres of physical and mental exhaustion grow like monsters before you and devils dance around, laughing hideously at the sight of a mere mortal venturing so far into their terrible territory.
The exhaustion may not be tangible but the devils certainly are - they are dressed in colourful suits, mounted on evil 145 horsepower motorcycles and their names are Rainey, Schwantz, Gardner, Doohan, Sarron, Magee and Kocinski. They fly past, taunting you with daredevil deeds that would mean inevitable disaster if you were foolish enough to attempt to emulate them. 
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  pp10-11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on August 16, 2018, 10:02:05 AM
Riding in a Japanese summer would be pretty intense, unless you went to Hokkaidō.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 17, 2018, 08:42:39 AM
"Look guys," I say, "The bike is stuffed." They suggest I try adjusting the suspension. Great idea. Gilbert does another couple of laps and isn't impressed. They adjust the suspension again. "Look, the frame's bent, the bike's unrideable," I repeat.
"Ah, but Mr Kawai, your sponsor, is very important man," the team boss replies. The inference is that Mr Kawai (who, and I jest not, builds motorway bridges for a living) has ploughed a lot of money into this venture and while the bike might be bent, I am expected to go out and ride it until I, too, crash. Then if the bike is really broken, or if I have a broken leg, we can retire from the race with honour.
I may be a wretched coward, but today I prefer dishonour to pain. I insist we retire. Chief mechanic Chichan-San bursts into floods of tears. As is the Japanese custom he is taking all the blame on his shoulders. Gilbert and I offer Chichan our ripped-up leathers to placate him - as a rider's second skin, a
racing suit holds mythical value in Japan.
I metamorphose from racer to race watcher and swell spectator attendance from 159,999 to 160,000 (310,000 over three days). It's around 40 degrees and 80 per cent humidity and reclining by an air-con unit in the pits I consider the insanity of sitting on top of a red-hot motorcycle in such conditions. No doubt about it, they're all mad.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p29
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 18, 2018, 11:27:30 AM
The roadracer's version of tennis elbow and other physical peculiarities are the downside of this progress. Tendonitis (constriction of the nerve tissues caused by over-development of the arm muscles, leading to loss of feeling in the hands) is a common paddock malady. Check out the stars' wrist scars for evidence of corrective surgery.
And the sport's latest demands are creating a new breed of racing mutant. When Doohan clenches his right hand, as if to grip his NSR's handlebar, a gruesome lump of muscle protrudes from the underside of his forearm. The over-developed tissue is nicknamed a 'throttle bump' and is the result of resisting 1.5g while simultaneously juggling brake lever, throttle and handlebar pressure.
The throttle bump won't be the end of GP rider evolution. And while the arm and thigh muscles do the greatest share of the work, the rider's whole body is at fever pitch during a race, fighting the negative forces and working to take advantage of the positive forces. GP racing produces the kind of heart bpms and breath rates experienced by Olympic athletes. Which is why today's GP stars are a (relatively) clean-living bunch whose daily routine is built around their physical training programmes.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  pp34-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 19, 2018, 03:44:25 PM
Racers are barely aware of the sensation of speed. Ask a racer how it feels to do 190mph and he'll just shrug his shoulders: the straights are the easy part, they're not thinking about riding in a straight line, they're thinking about the next few corners, that's the fun part. Michael Schumacher reckons that 'straights are boring' in an Fl car, but of course it's slightly different on a GP bike, you're nudging the double ton, head and shoulders stuffed under the screen, fingers delicately gripping the handlebars, hoping the bike doesn't break into a terminal speed wobble. I've done it on Doohan's Honda NSR500 and it is kinda scary, but you're so focused on the next corner that you don't have time to savour the sensation. The scenery doesn't even dissolve into a blur, because you're looking dead ahead, not to the side. It's just hellishly noisy, and pretty uncomfortable.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p64
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 20, 2018, 01:44:12 PM
A few years back I got young British hopeful Jamie Robinson a ride with Team Roberts in the Spanish Open series at Calafat, a few hours south of Barcelona. His TZ250 seized flat out in fifth and flicked him into a rocky run-off area. He was badly battered and one of his fingers swelled up purple, he was in agony. So Sandy Rainey (Wayne's dad and the team's mechanic) says: "Son, you gotta relieve the pressure"; he grabs a Black & Decker and drills through the fingernail until blood gushes out. Trying hard to look cool, I tell Jamie: "Better get down the medical centre and get that sterilised."
"Hell no," barks Sandy. "Stick it in some gasoline, that'll fix it up." So Jamie did, then went out, led the race... and fell off again.
Then there's American Superbike racer Dale 'Cut it Off Surgeon Quarterly', who wrecked a finger some years back at a US meet. Surgeons gave him a choice: "We can fix the finger and you'll be racing in three months or we can cut it off and you can race next Sunday." No choice for a racer.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p74
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 21, 2018, 10:12:58 AM
Michelin, who have dominated 500 GP racing for years, spend vast resources on widening that transition phase just as wide as it'll go, because that's what all but a handful of the world's riders need.
"To slide like they do, 500 riders need a huge amount of feel and feedback" explains the firm's racing boss Nicolas Goubert. "They need to sense exactly what the tyre is doing, and from experience, know what it's going to do next. Tyre compound and, to a lesser extent, construction are the crucial factors in offering excellent feedback.
"The more grip a rider has at his disposal the more feel and feedback he needs. What most riders want is a period of warning as they approach the limit. It's no good having massive amounts of grip if the limit is reached without any warning, because the rider won't have the confidence to approach that limit. Most riders will go faster with slightly less grip and more feedback. Only the very best riders can go fastest with a huge amount of grip and minimal feedback, because their skill allows them to cope with less of a transition phase."
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p96
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 22, 2018, 11:05:24 AM
The GP paddock can have that effect on you. It's a weird environment, populated by some of the most extreme people you'll ever meet. And not only the riders, everyone at GPs has a hint of the psychotic about them (yeah, I'm including the media in this) because they're ultra-ultra serious about what they're doing. The riders, for starters, have one of the weirdest jobs on earth: flying around the world, employed as mobile advertising hoardings and occasionally hurling themselves into Armco barriers. Their mechanics are no less obsessed with what they do; most of them only get to return home for six weeks in a year. And then there's the team managers, the PR people, the cooks and the gofers, the medics and the media, the hangers-on and the floozies, almost a thousand people in all - and stress monkeys, the lot of them. As Randy Mamola said recently, if a bunch of Martians started monitoring bike racing from space, they'd worry for humanity.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p122
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 23, 2018, 09:42:19 AM
Gerald Davison
"By mid-1980 it was obvious we needed to do something drastic. In Japan I told Irimajiri (NR engineer) that the project was more like a school for engineers than a race team. Half joking, I said he should send the team to a temple and tell them to reflect on what they're trying to do. The very next day he did just that! A fleet of minibuses took us to a Buddhist temple and we took along some bike bits for blessing. We arrived at this beautiful place up a forest-clad mountain, with dancing girls and music. It was pretty spectacular. The Japanese are quite ambivalent about religion. If they're in a fix they go to a temple and say a prayer; you never know, it might work. I had this vision of a new dimension to racing - we'd turn up on the grid with a Buddhist monk, while some Italian team might have a papal representative. I suppose the temple visit might have made the people feel better, because the constant struggle was making some of the engineers closest to the project look ill."
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p155
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 24, 2018, 09:42:09 AM
We down our cappuccinos and head outside to discover the 'real' world of MotoGP, pacing alongside the perfectly regimented line of artics parked behind the pits, where the proper stuff goes on. There's 110 articulated lorries here and they all look like they've been parked by an obsessive compulsive with a GPS system. Which is exactly how it works. There's chalk marks on the tarmac to indicate each artic's exact parking position. If only God had been as meticulous when he made the world...
You want a look inside one of the trucks - okay, so we dive inside the Yamaha motorsport artic, parked alongside the two Marlboro Yamaha trucks. This is my favourite, it's one of those expandable artics, which grows six feet wider when parked, and inside it's just a little like being on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise - all computer monitors, coloured lights and earnest Japanese technicians poring over facts and figures, throwing you suspicious looks as you press the entry button and the sliding door schloooks open. Behind the staff is a bank of 12 TV screens, all broadcasting the same Japanese winter scene, snow gently falling to the ground, calming Japanese folk music playing at low volume. Very strange.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p177
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 25, 2018, 04:22:32 PM
Wayne Rainey
I'd gotten a bad start, Schwantz was riding good and was leading. I was thinking: "Man, he's gonna take off!" then I caught him, passed him and pulled out a bit. I was the only guy on Dunlops and my tyres went off a little, so I was able to slow down some, cool the tyres off, drop back to fourth, then make another charge towards the end. Normally you can't do things like that in a race, you're normally flat out all the way I was able to exploit the advantage I had with the tyres, and that's what won me the race. I knew I had a performance advantage with the tyres, just from the way I could manoeuvre the bike, put it in different areas of the corner and kinda intimidate everybody and enjoy that, it was like turning around and sticking your tongue out at them, that's the way I felt. When you can think that way and you're in a world championship race, when there's so much on the line, I was just feeling like a kid. I was thinking: "This is not meant to be this much fun!"
Rainey's Suzuka experience tallies with research by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, the man who first investigated flow in the early 1970s. He surmised from thousands of interviews that flow is 'a common subjective experience of pleasure, interest and even ecstasy, derived from activities that perfectly match one's skills with the demands for performance'. Rainey's talents were obviously entirely matched to what he was required to do.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  pp242-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 26, 2018, 02:36:43 PM
There's not a half-successful racer in the world who doesn't get up to some kind of mischief in his quest for glory (though in researching this story I quickly realised that it's only retired riders who'll talk about this kind of stuff), while the more evil riders commit truly heinous crimes that risk rivals' lives.
There's the standard dirty tricks that everyone does - like gently moving a rival off line when braking into a corner, or easing an opponent away from the grippy line mid-turn. Then there's the nastier tactics - like shutting the throttle halfway through a corner to force someone into taking drastic avoiding action, thus losing them vital time. And then there's the seriously dangerous stuff - like running a rival onto the grass at high speed, or deliberately colliding with them, or hitting their kill switch, or shutting their throttle, or punching or kicking them.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p265
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 27, 2018, 01:52:59 PM
There's an old saying in racing: if you're not crashing, you're not going fast enough. Proof: The last rider to win a world championship without crashing was Sito Pons, who lifted the 1989 250 crown without once overstepping the mark. And here's another racing axiom, from three-time 500 king Wayne Rainey: "If a rider's fast and he's crashing, maybe you can stop him crashing, but if a rider's slow, you're not going to make him fast." In other words, there's no racing without crashing. And if you ever go racing, you'll be crashing too.
Crashes happens because racing is all about being faster than the next guy, which means you've got to bend the laws of physics to your own will and thus exist on the edge of a precipice. It's therefore inevitable that you'll fall over that precipice every now and again.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p286
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 28, 2018, 09:25:06 AM
Valentino Rossi is a man in love with motorcycles. The seven-time world champ is arguably the greatest bike racer in history, but that's not all. While most professional racers shirk road riding, claiming that it's too dangerous, Rossi is a regular on the streets, especially in his home town of London where bikes rule.
The Italian bubbles over with enthusiasm when talking about street riding, just as he does when he talks about riding on the track. So who better to ask for advice about how to get more out of your motorcycle, whether you're riding to work or getting your knee down at a track day?
"I still ride on the road always, I enjoy it but for sure it's not the track," says Rossi. "The problem with the road is it's full of stupids, especially in cars,
and also you never know the grip of the asphalt, so you need to stay a little bit slower than on the track."
Mental focus is everything when you're on a motorcycle, no matter whether you're on the track or the street. 
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p323
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 29, 2018, 10:04:48 AM
Kawasaki's early H2 750s were evil pieces of equipment. Their fragile air-cooled motors required riders to focus much of their attention on engine noise, nervously listening warnings of an imminent seizure amongst the cacophony of open spannies. And when the motors were running, they screeched out more power than their flexi frames and iffy tyres could handle.
"Hell, they were scary!" Nixon admits. "But it was just something you had to do. You're a racer, you're out there trying to go faster, and the Triumphs were running 150mph when two-strokes were running 180. That's a big difference. But that Kawasaki would wobble so bad at Daytona that Yvon [DuHamell] told me: "Well, just cut an inch or two off the bars." The thing still wobbled but your hands didn't go so far back and forth.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p349
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 30, 2018, 10:26:10 AM
At least Hunter S Thompson did fully understand the dangers involved in riding bikes too fast. "The final measure of any rider's skill," he wrote in summing up the big red Duke. "Is the inverse ratio of his preferred travelling speed to the number of bad scars on his body." He did nearly crash the v-twin, of course: "I felt nauseous and I cried for my mama, but nobody heard... This motorcycle is simply too goddam fast to ride at speed in any kind of normal road traffic unless you're ready to go straight down the centreline with your nuts on fire and a silent scream in your throat." He also found the bike's ergonomics unsuited to his substance-abused body: "I was hunched over the tank like a person diving into a pool that got emptied yesterday."
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p353
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on August 31, 2018, 11:40:04 AM
"There are only three sports: bullfighting, motor racing and mountaineering; all the rest are merely games," said hard-drinking writer Ernest Hemingway. I'm assuming that the original 20th century man's man would've included bikes within motor racing because bike racers are at least as rough 'n' tough as matadors, mountain climbers and motor car racers.
Hemingway's words came to me during MotoGP's long-awaited and much-hyped return to Laguna Seca for the 2005 US GP. Laguna is a scary racetrack, way more dangerous than anywhere else that Rossi and Co ply their trade. It's America's Brands Hatch, plunging up and down like a roller-coaster, a proper Wild West ride in pretty Californian scenery, some of which is way too close for comfort. It's the kind of place where you feel proper awe watching riders do their thing, because you know the consequences of a mistake would be very messy. Winner Nicky Hayden was genuinely awesome to behold through Laguna's notorious Turn One - a 160mph left-hander over the brow of a hill - drifting both wheels at full lean, regardless of the cliff face a few yards away.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p375
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 01, 2018, 09:53:13 AM
In fact Assen is still heavy with history. In between the whiff of chip fat a and weed smoke you can almost taste the sweet old smell of Castrol R. Mike Hailwood won races there, so did Barry Sheane, King Kenny Roberts, Giacomo Agostini, Freddie Spencer, Kevin Schwantz, Mick Doohan and Rossi (Graziano too). There is no other GP track in the world where you can say that because Assen is the sole survivor from GP racing's inaugural 1949 season. But Assen is no longer unique, so even though it's better than some GP tracks, it's only half the place it used to be.
You may wonder why I consider racetracks to be so important, why I get excited rolling up somewhere fast and open like Mugello, Phillip Island and Istanbul, but become strangely depressed when I turn up at mean little layouts like Losail, Motegi and Shanghai. I feel like that because great circuits promote great racing, with riders mugging each other at every other turn, while poor layouts encourage F1-style processions. That's why circuits matter, possibly even more than bikes and riders.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p411
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 02, 2018, 01:01:19 PM
Nick Jeffries
The other one was when I had an experimental gearbox seize on a CBR600 in morning practice. I'd just caught Joey Dunlop going into Greeba Castle and that was the last thing I knew. I was quite poorly from that, lost all the ligaments in me knee from that one, that was an unconscious job.
The third one was when the suspension collapsed on my RC45. It was our fault, we'd modified the shock. The whole back end collapsed before the left hander after Ballacraine. I was off the bike before I got to the bend. That was another airlift [helicopter] job. I lost the ligaments in me other knee, broken toes, broken arm, broken shoulder, I broke quite a few things. But they're not serious injuries compared to what you can have on the Isle of Man at those sorts of speeds. I always got back on again, I didn't want to finish on a low.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p443
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 03, 2018, 12:54:26 PM
The adrenaline rush of a fast TT lap is like nothing else on earth: it's mainlining the greatest drug known to man, your synapses on fire as you burst into a sleepy village at five times the speed limit. No buzz that big comes risk-free.
Obviously, no one who races there is unaware of the enormous dangers they face each time they rocket down Bray Hill, bouncing from gutter to manhole cover, fighting the mother of all tankslappers. Poor old David Jefferies was bang on the money when he gave this upfront assessment of racing on the Island: "You have to be totally at ease with yourself, know exactly what you're doing, and accept that you might be going home in a box."
The TT fascinates racers who should know better. Some years ago Wayne Rainey watched an on-bike TT lap and didn't stop talking about it for days. The former 500 king was genuinely awed by the reality of racing around the streets at 190mph - he couldn't believe it's still allowed to go on.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p448
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 04, 2018, 10:31:52 AM
The TT is a relic from an age when most racetracks were similarly lethal, roped-off public roads. But while dozens of other street venues have been shut down the TT survives because it sits on a self-governed island which is very fond of the millions generated by the races. If anyone else was in charge - Westminster, Brussels - it would be just another piece of bike-racing history.
And perhaps this is where the world and I have changed (please excuse me as I enter Grumpy Old Git mode). It seems to me the world has been taken over by puritan megalomaniacs and I don't like it. These crusading cretins pretend they care about people but they don't, they want us to stop riding motorcycles (why else would they keep tightening the bike test?) and quit smoking, but they start wars. The TT is a wild anachronism in an increasingly controlled society; it's barking at the moon, a big fingers up to those who want us all to lead safe, obedient, mortgaged lives under the all-seeing eye of the CCTV camera, obeying the command of dayglo-clad security gorillas with an IQ of 50 and tranquillised by the government's looped mantra of 'your safety is our primary concern'. Bollocks to the lot of them.
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  p449
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 05, 2018, 09:28:15 AM
Riders fully rely on the technology to keep them out of trouble. At the start of 2007 I eavesdropped on Stoner debriefing his engineers after practice. The Aussie had been flicked over the highside when he had got too eager with the throttle, and he was angry. "I should never have crashed," he told his crew chief. "The traction control should have taken care of it." So Stoner believed that the electronics should have translated his greedy fistful into exactly the correct amount of power that the rear tyre could handle at that moment. This does take the skill out of riding.
And yet if electronic trickery has stolen something from MotoGP with one hand, it does at least give something back with the other (when the technology works, that is). "These days we start a lot of GPs with full and healthy grids," says Edwards. "In years past I don't know how many times guys like Schwantz, Rainey and Doohan rode with broken arms and legs. The technology definitely makes it safer, so you don't have so much of that ass pucker going on."
The Fast Stuff  Mat Oxley  pp468-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 06, 2018, 10:01:13 AM
When Hell's Angels chapters started getting chartered outside the state of California in the late sixties, that's when we first started our cross-country rides
like the USA and World Runs. We'd meet up with the new clubs along the way, and they'd join the run. Man, we used to ride from Oakland to New York on those early rigid-frame bikes, and they bounced around so much that if you drove sixty miles in an hour you were making great time. They left you tingling and numb for about an hour after you got off your bike. If you covered three or four hundred miles in a day you were hauling ass. The other big problem then was that we'd have to find gas stations every forty miles or so, since those old-style bikes with small tanks couldn't make it past sixty miles. Today, on a Harley FXRT, with their rubber-mounted motors and big gas tanks, you not only get a smoother ride, you can log five or six hundred miles a day on a few tanks of gas without breaking a sweat.
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  pp1-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 07, 2018, 08:41:09 AM
In the early sixties, Honda had an ad, "You meet the nicest people on a Honda". That really turned the Hell's Angels off and knocked Harley for a loop with the average consumer. Honda had such tiny bikes, 50cc and 1OOcc bikes, the biggest one being a 450cc. Later, when they started coming out with 900, 1100, and 1200 and even those big 1500cc bikes, man, that's some machinery Harley can't touch. Kawasaki and some of the Japanese sport bikes have better brakes and more horsepower and handle easier.
What Harley has is brute horsepower. A brand-new Harley comes with about forty-nine to fifty-two horsepower to the rear wheel. After I've done a little work on mine, I'll get eighty-one horses to the rear wheel.
Up until 1984, Harley-Davidsons were famous for leaking oil. Even when they were brand-new, they leaked, and dealers had to put pieces of cardboard under them in the showroom. Early Harleys came with oil leaks because the tin primary cases had ineffective cork gaskets around them. Sometimes the motors weren't machined properly. If you didn't start your bike for a week, the oil accumulated through the oil pump and into the crankcase. Once you started it, it spit oil all over the ground. After stricter quality control and extra research and development at the factory, they eventually took care of the problem with the new Evolution motor.   
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  pp54-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 08, 2018, 05:14:24 PM
After we lost Charlie Magroo, Sacramento's George, the Hell's Angels became well known for our giant funerals. When a member dies, everybody goes to his funeral.
It's out of respect for the man and his particular charter. Part of it is a show of strength. I've gone to funerals of members I didn't even know, but because they were members, I felt obligated if I could make it.
Law enforcement agencies used to make fun of the Hell's Angel funerals when we would ride our motorcycles alongside the hearse in a mile-long formation. The cops called us a bunch of clowns. But it wasn't too long after that, whenever a cop got killed on duty, they started doing the same exact thing. Now it's common-place, damn near regulation.
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  pp79-80
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 09, 2018, 11:55:38 AM
Hell's Angels love to fistfight. There's never a shortage of drunks or fools willing to take us on, and a lot of times we'll take on each other. Armand Bletcher stood six feet eight and weighed in at 350 pounds. He was so strong he could pick up a couple of motorcycles and put them on the back of a pickup truck. In the early 1970s Armand could bench-press 705 pounds, but he had to arch his back to do it. He was never in competition, but he took steroids and was unbelievably big.
Only Johnny Angel would dare pick a fight with Armand Bletcher. Armand turned to me one day, almost crying, practically begging, "Sonny, please let me fight him."
"Armand," I said, "if you do it, we're all going to have to jump on you."
We would have ended up stabbing him, because there was no way in the world we could have beaten this guy in a fair fight. He probably could have wiped out everybody in the room.
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  p87
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 10, 2018, 09:28:20 AM
Sharon had come a long, long way from the nineteen-year-old ex-Maid of Livermore. One time I was fighting a charge of being felon possessing a firearm, and the gun in question actually belonged to Sharon.
In the courtroom, the U.S. attorney cross-examined me on the stand as he held up a pistol.
"Mr. Barger, is this your gun?"
"No, it belongs to Sharon."
Sharon was in the courtroom, so the prosecutor brought her up on the stand. Holding the gun out to her, the prosecutor asked her, "What do you know about this gun?"
"Well," she said, "one thing, the clip is still in it. Be careful. It might be loaded." The stupid prosecutor nearly dropped the gun handing it to her, but Sharon caught the piece, jacked it back, pumped the clip out, threw the clip back in, and slid the gun back to him.
"Don't worry," she said, "it's not loaded."
The judge grunted and looked down at the prosecutor. "The gun is obviously hers, now get her off the stand."
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  pp112-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 11, 2018, 10:07:44 AM
When his time came, he got it. He got beaten up by the Hell's Angels so he could say, "I met them, I rode with them, and I was almost killed by the Hell's Angels."
He got into some really stupid shit to get beat up. First, he'd been away from us for a long time finishing his writing. When his book was done, he asked if he could ride up with us to Squaw Rock for a gun run. While we were there, Junkie George got into an argument with his old lady and slapped her. Hey, it happens. Then George's own dog bit him. Junkie George was so pissed off he kicked the dog too. Hunter S Thompson walked up to George and told him, "Only punks slap their old ladies and kick dogs."
This really pissed George off, so he poleaxed Hunter while a couple of us kicked him around. He was bleeding, broken up, and sobbing, and we told him to get in his car and drive away. He rode to a nearby police station and they told him to clear out too. They didn't want him bleeding in their bathroom.
I read the book, Hell's Angels: A Strange and Terrible Saga, when it came out in 1967. It was junk.
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  pp126-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 12, 2018, 01:08:25 PM
Around the same time there was another hassle between Oakland and another motorcycle club. We didn't shoot or stab anybody, but anytime we saw any of their members, we'd rough 'em up, then cut their patches off with hunting knives. Snatching somebody else's patch is a serious act of battle. Sometimes they'd give it up out of fear and we'd just throw them away. Originally we would keep them as trophies, but that only created a reason for clubs to raid our clubhouse looking for their patches. If a club caught a Hell's Angel on his own, they would surely do the same thing. Any Hell's Angel forced to give up his patch without fighting for it is automatically voted out of the club.
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  p149
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 13, 2018, 08:50:58 AM
Folsom was the only maximum-security prison in the state at the time. San Quentin, although it was a prison, wasn't a max, though they had other ways of dealing with screw-ups. If you were a troublemaker at Q, they'd keep you inside your cell by welding the door shut. Months later, maybe they'd grind it open.
I mostly hung out with the motorcycle riders in the joint. Out of all the bike riders, the most Hell's Angels that were at Folsom at any one time was five or six of us. Having other Hell's Angels inside helped a lot. You hate to see your brothers inside, and you're glad to see them go home, but it's fun having them there.
We'd see each other every day, except during lockdowns. There was Fu, Marvin, Grubby Glen, Whitey, and me. Doug the Thug was in and out, shipped back and forth from San Quentin. Other bikers like Billy Maggot and Brutus also came from San Quentin. It was called "bus therapy". When there were problems- race hassles, drugs, violence, whatever- in San Quentin, they'd grab everybody and ship 'em out, keeping their actual location in bureaucratic limbo. "Bus therapy" was another name for moving the problem rather than solving it.
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  pp193-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 14, 2018, 03:05:25 PM
When they refused, I took to throwing my dinner around my cell, splattering the walls. They shot videos of the walls, showed it to the judge, who warned us that we were lucky we were being fed at all. My argument was if we were going to trial for three days and all they wanted to give us was sandwiches, that would have been okay. But after three months, we needed hot food.
Eventually we got soup with our dinner- a small victory, but in jail things like that are important, especially when you're fighting to stay out of prison for the rest of your life.  After a particularly contentious day in court, the judge finally warned me that I had better start acting like a defendant. I said I would act like a defendant when he started acting like a judge and the district attorney started acting like a real district attorney.
"Until then, you can get stuffed."
My lawyer cringed.
Someone in the audience clapped, which really made the judge angry.
The judge pounded his gavel. "Who did that? I demand to know who clapped."
A black bike rider from the Dragons with only one arm raised his hand.
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  pp218-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 15, 2018, 08:02:42 PM
As West Coast rep, Anthony Tait came to my house a lot. He dressed like a tacky drug dealer and wore lots of ivory, gold chains, and rings. Tait rode around on a cream-colored Harley full dresser and wore light-colored cowboy boots so he could be easily picked out of a crowd for police surveillance photos. He usually kept his bike at the Harley shop in Oakland, so when he flew in from Anchorage he would only have to ride a short distance from the airport to the clubhouse.
Tait couldn't handle riding long distances on a motorcycle. He would always get sick and throw up. Once when we travelled on a USA Run together, I remember Tait getting another guy to ride his bike for him. We assumed he was ill for some reason. Looking back, he was probably petrified from riding so fast in the pack. Or maybe he was just scared of motorcycles, period. At the time we didn't know Tait was a rat working for the federales and just waiting for an excuse to betray the club.
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  pp232-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 16, 2018, 01:17:00 PM
We rode back to Switzerland, straight up into the Alps. It was the tallest mountain range I ever rode, so steep we were accelerating into the clouds. It was the highest high, the furthest I've ever been, body and soul- from the likes of Folsom Prison or a dingy county cell. As I rode, I got to thinking: if I learned anything from being in the club over forty years, it's that freedom isn't cheap. I thought about how much I needed the open road, a tight set of handlebars, a firm seat, and an old lady willing to hold on for the long and bumpy ride.
My thoughts overpowered the roar of two hundred Harleys gunning through the Alps. I know I've paid a terrible price for my freedom. I've learned the hard way that to understand my heart is to understand the evil that lurks inside. I can't hide behind religious traditions and superficial heroes. It's impossible to be delivered away from man's constant inhumanity to man. As a warrior, you know pain and sadness alongside joy and solitude. It is to those who long to ride- forever free- that I write these words... and the Angels shall be Kings!
Hell's Angel  Ralph "Sonny" Barger  pp254-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 17, 2018, 02:33:26 PM
For all my careful planning, I had neglected to bring any waterproofs. "No, we won't need them in North Africa," I'd told Neil, authoritatively. "The Sahara virtually meets the Mediterranean, and it doesn't rain in the desert, everyone knows that. By the time we get south to the forests we should have missed the rains." Now, huddled under a six-foot by three-foot corrugated iron awning in jeans and a leather jacket, trying to stave off the inevitable, I felt pretty stupid. Neil looked smugly on from the warmth of his Drizabone. My sole consolation was Pierre's denim jacket, his only line of defence against this unexpected storm. We were both soaked, for this 'shelter' as Neil had called it, was quite obviously built to shade a milk stall from the sun. Still, it was marginally better than nothing.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 18, 2018, 10:00:15 AM
We drove on into bibleland. What a buzz! Our bikes have become time-machines zooming down a warp straight into the Old Testament. Goatherds and shepherds grazed their flocks, farmers tilled the land with oxen, mules pulling loads of hay worked their way down the tracks and beautiful bright-eyed children came rushing from their homes. They smiled and waved, their innocent faces full of excitement. I felt sure that no matter how many children I waved at on this trip, they would always bring a smile to my face. We drove on, happy to be alive. I started to sing.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 19, 2018, 09:39:05 AM
We waited for nearly two hours while the sand slowly buried us. It did not let up or show any likelihood of doing so.
"We might as well make a dash for the gorge," I shouted to Steve. "We could be waiting here all night."
"Aye, keep your lights on and we'll follow close behind."
The road was invisible a lot of the time and twice I drove off it into deep sand. Mile by mile we plodded on, no faster than twenty miles an hour, fighting the forces of nature. But at last, standing like a citadel of peace and security, out of the gloom came the faint and welcome outline of the Arak gorge.
Despite all the hardship and discomfort one inevitably suffers on a bike, it is, I'm sure, the most satisfying means of transport, at least on a trip like this. In a Landrover or truck you can simply wind up the windows and pour yourself a coffee, cocooned in Western comfort. Not so on a bike. Whether it be sandstorm, torrential rain, fierce wind or even a swarm of locusts, indeed anything God, nature or the devil can throw at you, you must take it. There is nowhere to hide. But when the challenge is over and you have succeeded, the feeling of satisfaction is unbeatable.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p37
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 20, 2018, 08:48:33 AM
"Ah, Jonny le Targui," Amel said, referring to the chech I was now wearing. We walked slowly down the muggy street to the courtyard where my bike was parked. She'd never been on a motor bike before and loved it. The feel of her hugging me tight, her front pressed into my back and her chin resting on my shoulder, was wonderful. The sun was setting as we drove out of town into the desert. We stopped and sat under a date palm to watch it.
"Jonatan, why did we meet?"
"I'm not sure." I put my arm round her and held her close. Again I could smell the glorious perfume of her skin. I breathed it in deep, forcing it into my memory in the hope of being able to recall it later. "Maybe one day we'll know."
After a moment she smiled. "Our paths have crossed once, they may do so again."
"I hope so," I said, as much to myself as to her. I leant forward and kissed her cheek.
"Insh' Allah," she said, her soft, dark eyes resting on me. "It is all in the hands of God."
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 21, 2018, 09:31:25 AM
I pushed on to the border in the hope of making Souanke by nightfall but, soon after midday, a few miles north of Mbalam and less than twenty miles from the Congo, I found myself in a little glade, looking at a river and bridge. The bridge was nothing more than three large tree trunks and would have presented a precarious crossing at the best of times, but now it was broken, smashed in the middle and submerged in fast-flowing water.
I took out a damp cigarette and pulled on it deeply as tears welled in my eyes. I desperately missed everyone and everything. A pint with John, a spliff with Guy, a chat with Tania. Oh, to eat a roast, watch a film, sleep in a bed. The worst part was not being forced to give up, but the utter frustration of having to go back through all the crap I'd just fought.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p83
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 22, 2018, 11:58:03 AM
Satisfaction overwhelmed me. The headache from the village disappeared, my bodily aches dissolved into the peaceful waters and, comfortably blissful, I sat and let my brain unwind. This was utter contentment, like the night in the Sahara or the swim in the Sangha. A feeling so wonderful that should the pirogue have capsized and the bike sunk I really not sure if I would have cared. Indeed, had death suddenly come I would have had no regrets or any problem in accepting it. Everything had been worth it for these few short minutes.
The first stars of the night appeared and behind us darkness was falling. Kamau and his brother were kneeling happily at the front paddling lazily while the current did most of the work. Small tufts of vegetation, dislodged from the thick mangrove on the banks, drifted with us. The occasional splosh of a surfacing fish was all that cut the tranquil silence. At last I had found it, the real Africa, the Africa of my dreams. I took a slug on the whisky, lit a cigarette and dangled my feet in the warm waters.
I wanted the journey to last for ever.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p104
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 23, 2018, 01:04:13 PM
The track was firm and wide. Deep red, rust-coloured earth stretched like a carpet before me, bisecting the bush. An old man pushing a moped was coming the other way. I stopped to give him some petrol. The sun was high and the sky clear.
Perhaps this won't be so bad after all. No sooner had this thought flashed through my head than I passed under an arch, like an open doorway into a giant's castle made by two huge trees, and entered the forest proper. It wasn't long before the light at the entrance was nothing more than a brilliant pinprick. The track got narrower and narrower until it was not much wider than I. On either side the deep green undergrowth was thick and impenetrable, patterned with the morning dew.
Sharp beams of sunlight slipped through the leaves and tangled creepers high above to brighten the murk of the forest floor. Thousands of brightly coloured butterflies, some bigger than my hand, disturbed by my passing, rose up and accompanied me or flew straight at my face only to dodge away at the last second, like cartoons in a 3-D movie. Soon I was in a dark tunnel, the roof of which was as thick as its walls. There was no breeze down here. The air was wet and stuffy, steam from the rotting vegetation hung like a fog and I was quickly wet through.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p124
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 24, 2018, 09:37:05 AM
Earlier, Lango had told me that a gazelle was being killed in my honour. It was now brought in, skewered on a pole, the size of a small lamb, and placed on the table before us to excited applause. Lifting a large knife in flamboyant style the Chief began to carve. Pounded yam, cassava and fried plantain were handed out, followed by hunks of the succulent meat. It was a feast to be sure. Curious faces looked at me in silence as I put the food to my mouth, asking with their bright eyes, 'Is this white man going to like our food?' On hearing my approval they laughed and began to discuss me in their own language. I pleased with my contentment.
Bananas and pineapple followed the meat and lastly some strong dark tobacco in a wooden pipe.
The feeling between us was one of trust and understanding, an immediate affinity of fellow human beings. Here there were no secrets to hide, no fear or worry. They did not know where I came from but I was there, in their world, enjoying their culture and that was enough.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p135
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 25, 2018, 10:02:35 AM
I did as I was told. I drove round the block, up the street into the mass of bodies standing round the camera, and came to a halt. The interviewer asked such questions as how far had I been? When had I left? What did I eat? Did I have a wife back in England? Why was I doing it? What had I learnt? (To this I answered "Don't believe all you are told until you have seen it for yourself." What countries had I seen? And what did I think of Cabinda?
The ages of the children stretched from about four to sixteen years old and hundreds of bright eyes watched me closely. A particularly cute little boy no more than five chewing on a stick of sugar cane, stood at my side. He clung with his free hand to my trousers and each time I was asked question he pulled gently, seeking my attention. I answered the questions as accurately as possible, stating, truthfully, that Cabinda was the most beautiful place I'd seen so far.
The filming concluded, the interviewer shook my hand and then said something to Fernando, who again translated; "He says it has been a pleasure to interview you- the tourist number two."
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  pp167-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 26, 2018, 10:12:28 AM
The high adventure of the Congo and Angola had left me no time for feeling down, my mind too absorbed in the challenge of what I was doing, but here, with more time and fewer problems, alone in a crowd of happy faces, I felt alienated and unhappy. I was reminded of holidays with Mel, in Greece or France or Spain - the setting was different but the expressions on the faces of the happy couples were just the same as ours must have been. On reaching Cape Town a part of me had felt that I had this grief thing licked, that I was 'over it' - but I wasn't; like the journey, I now realised there was still a long way to go. The feelings of pain and loss, unlike the miles of my trip, weren't constants that diminished logically over time, rather they changed shape and moved about within me.
The prospect of what lay ahead made me feel no better. Would Tanzania let me in? If Tanzanian customs officers suspect you've been to South Africa they are entitled to refuse you entry. For this reason I had not had my carnet stamped at the border and intended to get a new passport in Lusaka. However, officials are usually wise to such ploys. It would be touch and go.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p226
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 27, 2018, 09:05:50 AM
That I had made it so far showed luck was on my side but, as the ambassador had pointed out, if I was going to make it all the way home I would still need a lot more. I should not waste it on a whim. I looked again at his considerate face which seemed benign, almost fatherly, and wondered why I had been so nervous of him.
"Yes, you're right, it's not worth it. I'll leave for Malawi tomorrow. And thank you for your advice."
"Oh, you need not mention it," he said, getting to his feet. "That's what we are here for. If I have saved one man I am pleased."
Ambassador Khan opened the door and led me back into the hall. The lobeless attache was still there talking to the girl but he hurried back to his tasks when he noticed us coming. We walked outside into the forecourt. The man had finished cleaning and now stood chatting to my taxi driver. The late afternoon was quiet and peaceful and I realised that a self-imposed burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I turned and shook the ambassador's hand, thanking him again.
"It's okay. Good luck on the rest of your journey."
"Thank you and good luck to you." I climbed back into the cab and with a wave we drove away.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p233
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 28, 2018, 09:47:22 AM
Shortly before Jaap returned that evening I turned on the television and sat back in the comfort of a large armchair. As the picture slowly emerged to settle on the flickering screen I was surprised to see the face of Ambassador Khan. What the voice of the reporter was saying made my mouth go dry.
"... whose strangled and beaten body was found today tied to a chair. It is not yet known why the ambassador was killed or by whom but it is suspected that Renamo had infiltrated the embassy staff." His benign face disappeared from the screen to be replaced by that of the news-reader. "His death comes on a day when heavy fighting has been reported between the rebels and government forces near both Maputo and Tete, with some reports suggesting that as many as 200 people may have been killed. Peace efforts in Rome seem to have reached a stalemate.
"At home now, and in Ndola..." Shocked, I sat for a while staring blankly at the screen. It seemed incredible. Only two days before, this compassionate man had persuaded me not to risk my life. Now he had lost his, perhaps at the hands of the very people he had been protecting me from.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  pp246-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 29, 2018, 10:27:01 PM
"The problem," Masfin went on translating, "is that you can only cross the border with permission from Addis. It has been closed for long time and it is only the Internal Ministry who can authorise this."
"But how long will permission take to come through?" I asked, knowing that the chances of getting it, should I apply, were almost non-existent.
"Three weeks... maybe more."
"But I cannot possibly wait that long. I have to get out of Ethiopia before the rains start, otherwise I will be trapped. If he can give me a letter of clearance to Addis, I'll get a visa from the ministry when I arrive."
I drank the coffee while they talked. Dark clouds still lingered over Kenya but here the sky was clear and the sun hot. A slight breeze rustled the pale blue jacaranda trees which lined the street opposite. A battered truck crawled slowly up the hill, passed the bar and disappeared. Again Mr Ragasa browsed through my passport in deep contemplation. Then he picked up the lighter and started to play with it.
"He can have it, if he wants... a present," I said to Masfin. It needed no translation. Ragasa smiled but said nothing. We sat for an age.
Finally he stood up, cupping the lighter in his large right hand. He said something to Masfin and left.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  pp272-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 30, 2018, 06:29:43 PM
On the outskirts of the capital, (Addis Ababa) next to a burnt-out tank, the bike coughed and died. The bright sun of the morning had given way to a leaden sky and heavy rain was falling. The traffic heading into the city centre was dense and slow-moving. On either side of the road were grey factories and warehouses. I hadn't really noticed the bike losing power until I'd started to climb back up the escarpment, but then it had deteriorated fast. I had crawled the last ten miles not much faster than walking pace. I couldn't imagine what the problem might be, but whatever it was I knew I could do little about it there. I needed more luck. Within minutes it presented itself in the form of a white pick-up truck driven by a man of about forty, dressed in Western clothes, with the usual bushy hair and soft, honey-coloured, inquisitive eyes. I explained that my bike had broken down and promised him my eternal gratitude if he could just get us both to a hotel and out of the tiresome rain.
"Oh, I can do better than that," he said in near-perfect English, "I can take you to Hagbes. They're the Yamaha dealers in town." Short of meeting a travelling Tenere mechanic, I could not have sought better fortune. I made a mental note never to take my luck for granted - it was a feature of my travels I could ill afford to lose.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p282
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 01, 2018, 09:27:40 AM
I had thought many times about what I would do if such a situation presented itself, whether I'd stop or place myself in the hands of the Gods and drive straight on. I had come to no concrete conclusions. I felt I would have more of a chance of survival taking the latter option as, even if the bandits did decide to shoot, their aim might not necessarily be accurate. But here I was, face to face with the real thing, and any action seemed impossible. I got closer and closer, still unable to make the decision. He stood in the middle of the road now, his gun unwavering. At any moment he might pull the trigger; he made no gesture that he wanted me to stop. What was he going to do? What was I going to do? When I was no more than twenty yards off, still undecided whether to stop or accelerate, he lifted his head and a different expression crossed his eyes. Stamping his feet together, he swivelled his gun round to present arms, and, with his face exploding into a gigantic grin, gave me a salute worthy of the Guards. I returned the gesture and sped past, leaving him choking in a cloud of dust.
When I arrived at the Lake Tana Hotel twenty minutes later I was still shaking.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p294
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 02, 2018, 09:24:35 AM
On the Sunday, as you might expect, I had to get clearance to be allowed to take the boat: the ticket was not enough. This was possibly the most tedious and tiring day of all in the Sudan. From eight in the morning until six at night I was passed from the police station to the customs office, to immigration and the office of information, back to the police and finally returned to the ticket office. At each bureau there was a queue of a hundred or more. At the ticket office I told the Nubian man that I was not jumping the line but had simply been lucky. He accepted the explanation and became surprisingly charming, telling me that as nobody knew how much they should charge for the bike I could take it for nothing. He checked I had all the right forms -a red one, two blue, a green, a yellow and a white- stamped the ticket and wished me "Bon voyage". "It will start boarding at eight and leave around three," he said. I told him I'd be there at seven.
That evening as the sun went down behind the sandy hills even Wadi Haifa seemed pleasant.
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p321
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 03, 2018, 12:18:43 PM
"Your passport please." He didn't look mean, just bored by the prospect of the day which lay ahead. "Papers." I confidently handed them over.
"Where is your blue form?" I pulled the two blue chits from the pile in his hand and put them on top.
"These ones?"
"Not these," he said, taking me to one side. "Your customs import licence." He gestured to the bike, "for the machine."
Oh God. Stay calm, stay calm...
"They should have given you one at the border when you entered Sudan."
"But they didn't," I answered, fear rising. "Have you been to Gallabat? There are only a few grass huts. There is no customs and no immigration, let alone blue forms. They gave me nothing."
"So how do we know you not buy this machine here in the Sudan and have not paid duty?" I was incredulous.
"Look," I said in near desperation, my hands starting to shake, "I have my carnet which proves that I brought the bike into the country." I got it from the tank bag and showed it to him. "Here, you can see... Cameroun, Angola, Malawi, Tanzania. I've been driving the bike round Africa."
"This is not blue form. You must go back."
My God! No! Please! I was on the gangway, the ship to home and freedom only a few feet away. I felt physically sick and my head started to spin.
I begged: "Please don't make me go back."
Running With The Moon  Jonny Bealby  p322
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 04, 2018, 10:03:36 AM
Comfort is key to riding distances safely. To spend more time on your motorcycle, you must be prepared to ride in inclement weather and you should know how to adapt to extremes of heat and cold. You should learn how to make your motorcycle more comfortable and how to look after yourself on long trips. After long hours in the saddle, minor irritations drain energy and alertness. All riders can benefit from small modifications that enhance comfort and reduce fatigue.
You have more to gain by learning how to be comfortable on your motorcycle for longer periods than you do by riding at breakneck speed or riding while exhausted.
As veteran Iron Butt competitor Bob Ray says, "Find out what makes you want to get off your bike, then fix it."
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  p13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 05, 2018, 09:16:40 AM
Some novices seem to believe that gloves fall into the same category as helmets: they offer protection in case of an accident, but it's more comfortable to ride without them. Gloves are necessary to shield your hands from sun, cold, stones and other flying objects. At 60 miles an hour, just being struck by an insect can be painful. Gloves are especially beneficial if you should ever go down, even at low speed, as it's instinctive to extend your hands to break your fall. Some riders experience numbness in their lands from vibrations transmitted through the handlebars, and wearing gloves will provide some insulation from the vibration. You may find your hands tire less easily as well.
You should have three weights of gloves: lightweight, short deerskin gloves for summer use; middleweight, unlined leather gauntlet gloves for cooler weather; and heavy, waterproof leather gauntlet gloves for cold or wet weather.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 06, 2018, 10:16:56 AM
Once, during a long, hot trip through south Texas, I had an inspiration. After parking my bike at a gas pump, I removed my helmet and placed it into the sidewalk freezer that held the store's supply of bagged ice. By the time I refuelled, paid for the purchase, and drank a bottle of cold water, the helmet had cooled nicely.
The effect lasted a long time. In a similar vein, some riders stuff the pockets of their riding suits with ice to get some relief from the heat.
If you spend much time riding in very hot climates, a tinted face shield will keep the temperature inside your helmet a few degrees cooler. Also, if your helmet doesn't have a removable, washable liner, consider using a separate helmet liner of silk or CoolMax, which is designed to wick away perspiration to keep you more comfortable. By washing your helmet liner regularly, you'll also prolong the life and user-friendliness of your lid.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  p24
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 07, 2018, 12:13:21 PM
Suzy is also a member of a Roadway Express team that visits schools and fairs to promote safety.
She often cautions her motorcyclist friends to avoid the "No Zone" behind big trucks. "Tailgating a truck irritates the driver, and is very dangerous," she maintains. "Although truckers check their tires regularly, they have no control over what may be on the pavement that can cause a blowout. I have seen a blowout knock clearance lights off the truck and break off mud flaps. I shudder to think of the consequences that could befall a rider struck by such a large flying object. Stay away from big trucks!"
Tailgating also deprives you of a good view of the road ahead of you, so you'll be less likely to spot hazardous road debris in time to react safely. It can be an especially dangerous practice during bad weather or when you're likely to encounter animals.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  p42
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 08, 2018, 09:22:00 AM
It won't be possible to avoid punctures altogether, but there are some tricks to minimise them.
When you're riding alone or when you're the first rider in a group, select a riding position to the right of the centre of the lane, approximately in the right wheel track of four-wheeled vehicles. This position will place you in a section of the lane that has usually been swept clean of screws which have worked their way loose from vehicles (a major cause of punctures), and of other debris. When you're behind a rider who is using the right wheel track, use the left wheel track, just a little to the left of the centre of the lane. As with the right wheel track, this area has been swept clean by passing motorists. You'll also be following proper group riding practice by riding staggered from the rider in front of you.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  p51  (left/right adjusted for Australian roads)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 09, 2018, 08:57:45 AM
The amount of space dedicated to a tool kit should depend on the reliability of the motorcycle and the mechanical skill of the rider. Except for a pair of vice grips, a flashlight, duct tape, and some zip-tie fasteners, I've generally packed little more than the tools provided by the bike's manufacturer. Some riders carry enough tools to dismantle and rebuild their engine beside the road. With my limited mechanical experience, the additional tools would just take up precious luggage space and reduce my carrying capacity. This makes mechanically adept friends shudder, but I've never carried more tools than I feel I'm competent to use. I've made minor roadside repairs from time to time and found the standard tool set to be adequate. Rather than rely on a complete set of tools and my limited mechanical expertise, I ride motorcycles that are serviced regularly and which my local dealer keeps in good repair.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  p54
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 10, 2018, 09:19:58 AM
A functional tankbag is a necessity for long-distance riding. Virtually all tankbags have a clear plastic window on the top display maps, directions, and other notes. A tankbag will also give you easy access to important things you'll need on the move or during pit stops. My tankbag typically holds items such as lip balm, sunscreen, eyewash, a banana or two, spare earplugs, a pen and small notepad, a flashlight, tire gauge, first-aid kit, cell phone, and a lock with a long cable for securing my helmet and riding suit to the motorcycle if I must leave the bike unattended. When I unzip the expansion gusset, I can even cram an entire change of clothing into the bag.
I've attached a strip of Velcro to the right side of my tankbag, and to my audio harness where it attaches to the helmet, so when I disconnect the harness I've got a place to affix the wire so it's out of the way while I'm refuelling. If I forget to attach the harness to the helmet before I take off at least it won't flop around and become damaged.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  p72
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 11, 2018, 09:15:58 AM
When it comes to racking up mileage, consistency is more important than speed. Speeding excessively requires more attention and is more stressful than riding at moderate speeds, so you'll tire more quickly. Higher speed also equates to higher fuel consumption, which means more frequent stops. Finally, the time wasted while receiving speeding tickets will significantly eat into your average speed.
In the endurance-riding community, the "entry level" ride for IBA membership is a SaddleSore 1000- a ride of 1,000 miles or more completed in 24 hours or less. While the SaddleSore seems like a monumental achievement to the novice long-distance rider, veteran riders can finish this ride in 18 hours or less while travelling within the speed limit.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  p82
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 12, 2018, 08:38:04 AM
Riders have different opinions about the most effective approach for dealing with a stop. I've discussed my strategy with friends who are police they confirm that it's a good approach.
Don't insult the officer's intelligence by acting as though you have no idea why he stopped you or by denying that you were speeding. "When I saw your cruiser I looked at my speedometer and realised I was going a little fast," I usually say. "I'm not usually over the limit like that. Sorry." If the officer tells me how fast he clocked me, I wince a little, but I never suggest that he's got it wrong. After all, when I get caught, I usually am speeding.
I decided a long time ago to forego pleading for mercy. The officer knows I would appreciate a break and if he's inclined to give me one based on my behaviour, he's going to do it without my asking. Besides, I like being polite to the police, but I don't like to grovel. My approach must work because when I have been stopped, I've received verbal warnings about half of the time and I don't think I've ever been written up for the actual speed I was travelling.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  pp87-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 13, 2018, 09:26:01 AM
Like many Iron Butt veterans, George Barnes restricts the use of motel rooms to times when he plans to sleep at least four hours. He points out that when you consider the time required for filling out forms, finding the room, and unpacking motorcycle, the check-in process can consume half an hour or more. If George plans to sleep less than four hours, he checks into the Iron Butt Motel.
The term "Iron Butt Motel" was originally used to describe a situation in which a rider slept on a parked motorcycle, either leaned back against his luggage or slumped forward resting on his tankbag. Today the term is commonly used to describe any situation where sleeping outdoors near your motorcycle, rather then in a motel.
Rest areas along interstate highways in most areas of the country are relatively safe, although some areas have had problems. After several foreign tourists were robbed and murdered at rest areas in Florida, state police began assigning full-time guards to rest stops after dark. Another rider, an avid bicyclist and long-distance motorcyclist, prefers to use cemeteries to grab a quick nap. He contends that he's never been bothered while napping in a cemetery- especially at night.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  pp99-100
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 14, 2018, 01:20:10 PM
In observance of the dictum to do everything that you can on the motorcycle and to rely on maintaining a steady, consistent pace, serious competitors eat while moving. I sometimes pack energy bars and small packages of beef jerky to snack on while riding. Many riders pre-cut energy bars into small, bite-sized pieces and sprinkle them with powdered sugar to prevent their sticking together.
I'm very disciplined about the system that I follow when I'm competing in an endurance rally. Beginning in the morning, I eat nothing but fresh fruit and fruit juices. Bananas, oranges, peaches, nectarines, and plums are readily available and are easy to carry on the motorcycle. But I never eat fruit with, or immediately following anything else. Once I've eaten anything but fruit, I wait at least three hours before eating fruit again. If I eat flesh (meat or fish), I wait at least four hours. I drink a lot of water all day long and eat nothing after about eight o'clock in the evening.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  p113
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 15, 2018, 04:33:59 PM
Scott also advises that standing up on the footpegs over rough ground is probably the most important technique off-road riding neophytes should master. While you may think the practice would raise your centre of gravity and make the motorcycle less stable, the opposite is true. Standing transfers your weight to the footpegs, thus lowering your centre of gravity and making easier for you to control the bike. In addition, since you'll be higher and will be able to see a little farther, you should get some advance warning about obstacles that are coming up.
It's easier to stand on the footpegs of some motorcycles than others. As you stand, grip the tank gently between your legs to provide additional stability. Practice this technique at slow speeds when there isn't any traffic, so you will be comfortable with it when you need it.
Going The Extra Mile  Ron Ayres  p119
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 16, 2018, 12:11:27 PM
Clancy's flexibility when faced with trip-ending barriers, like no roads, outrageous expenses and bureaucratic hassles, again reflected a man willing to take risks, manage them, adjust and move forward. One of the words in the definition of adventure is risk. Clancy faced and managed real motorcycling risks.
The tedium of typing on his portable typewriter the words that were then mailed off to New York was far removed from what modern-day adventurers face with electronic gizmos to post on the Internet their words and pictures, within hours of shutting off their motorcycles. I have pictured the stress Clancy must have had to face in cramped ship quarters typing. Or the hassles associated with trying to get a roll film developed for pictures to be sent along with his words to his publisher.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  pxii
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 18, 2018, 04:36:28 PM
Finding our gasoline nearly gone the next morning, I spent an hour trying to buy some in the town, but found no "patrol", as the natives called it, that kerosene had never been heard of, and that no alcohol outside of whiskey could be bought. I finally purchased a pint of "paraffine oil"— which is used wherever house lamps can be afforded, instead of the universal tallow candle- mixed this with the cupful of gas I had and safely reached Lisnaskal, a more favoured town, four miles away. Here our steed drank its fill of the precious liquid called Pratt's Motor Spirit, which is a refined product of the Standard Oil Co., of a much higher grade than its American variety, and is sold in two-gallon tins at 38 cents a gallon by small shops and hotels in every other town we have visited in Great Britain.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 19, 2018, 08:34:54 PM
At five o'clock it was practically dark, but we headed our machine south for some 40 miles down the coast. We had covered only 15 miles, however, before a terrific storm broke upon us in a mountain pass, soaking us to the skin, nearly blowing us over several times, and compelling us to return to the last town we had passed, Bally Castle in County Antrim, 3 1/2 miles back. Here were very glad to take shelter in the "Antrim Arms", and to give our machine credit for not misfiring once, in spite of the water, which gave me many most annoying electric shocks through my soaked leather gloves.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 20, 2018, 09:27:23 AM
Time means next to nothing here- in fact, all through this country they close the gates at the railroad crossings at five minutes before the train is due, and as the train is seldom on time, the nature of a people who will put up with this regulation is apparent. I arrived at one of these gates one minute after it had been closed, and actually had to fight the woman guard before I could push my machine through the pedestrian gates and get across. At last she gave up and burst into tears, running off with a mixture of cries in which "Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!" played an important part. The train might have come along sometime, but though I followed the track for miles I never saw it.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  p73
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 21, 2018, 04:25:35 PM
Being the watershed for the whole range of mountains to the north, these plains were furrowed with countless streams and a number of respectable rivers, even in this dry season. Only one river on the whole route boasted a bridge, and after a hard rain the road would have been absolutely impossible. What shook my nerve was to have the shadow at the bottom of a sharp descent suddenly turn into a 40-foot river of hidden depth. Usually I was able to stop on the brink, and then walking on an occasional flagstone, laboriously push the machine through the muddy streams, none of which proved over two feet in depth. After a while I got so I didn't care- philosophically reflecting that one must die sometime and to die with one's boots on is very noble; so I rushed all the fords that came later, and surprised myself each time by reaching the other side alive. My dear old Henderson even seemed to enjoy the excitement.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 22, 2018, 07:57:03 PM
It was on this rapid decline, with my clutch off and my engine throttled down, that I slid suddenly around a sharp curve onto the strangest group of Arab horsemen I have ever seen. Well dressed and well mounted, what could they be doing here, ten miles from even the merest hamlet, on this wretched, viewless day? Were they highwaymen, brigands, or what? As it happened, they were as much surprised at our sudden meeting as was I, and their horses were even more so, becoming so excited that one narrowly escaped backing into me as I dodged past, while another was prevented from throwing his rider over the precipice by the merest chance. In fact, their horses kept the hands of these mysterious men so full that I was able to get away around a turn before they could take any offensive action. What my fate would have been had been going up the hill instead of down, wouldn't be hard to imagine- with a thousand-foot cliff so conveniently nearby.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  p107
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 23, 2018, 06:30:54 PM
The sunsets here, and later in the Indian Ocean, compensated slightly for our misfortune, with their gorgeous displays- never will I forget them. One was like a stupendous crown with alternating gold and blue points, each radiating streamers of its color clear to the zenith, where a halo of violet surmounted all and reflected the deep orange circle about the sun itself. Another was like unto a great rainbow, blending all the colors of the spectrum, which were reflected in the calm water like a rare painting in oils, shimmering on the tiny waves.
But only after the ball of the sun had slipped quickly into its watery couch, was the full splendour of nature apparent. Now like a chameleon in a capricious mood, the vivid colors would change to the softest hues. Directly over the sun the deep red would fade into orange; that would be bordered with a semi-circle of yellow, fading into one of pea-green, which, in turn, merged with a band of wonderful lavender. Next came a stretch of violet, then a ribbon of azure, followed by an expanse of deep blue through which the stars already twinkled merrily; and then outshone the new moon, chasing the few clouds away.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  pp153-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 24, 2018, 04:33:05 PM
To me "Nippon," as the Japanese call their country, seemed the most fascinating country in which to motorcycle I have ever visited- everything is so different, so beautiful, so peculiar in its charm. The roads are good- except for occasional stretches- but there is a great lack of bridges across big rivers. Ferries are usually operated with some regularity, but delay always accompanies the appearance of a river. While the minor bridges are often too narrow and too weak for motor cars, they form no obstacle to the motorcycle. It is impossible to maintain an average speed of over 15 miles an hour, because of the numerous unprotected stone culverts placed in the road and not level with it, and because the roads are so narrow and full of right angle turns, which often hide a rickshaw or pony cart.
While the people are very obliging, they are slow to get out of the way. A horn does not mean "motorcycle!" to them, but "fried fish," "pipes cleaned," or "clogs mended".
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  pp214-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on October 24, 2018, 07:01:01 PM
Agree with most of that except the lack of bridges.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 25, 2018, 03:24:29 PM
Agree with most of that except the lack of bridges.

This was in 1914, remember.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 25, 2018, 03:27:12 PM
The machine arrived wrong side up, and when I opened the box it became evident that it had ridden across the Pacific in that position. The oil I had neglected to drain from the crank case in my hurried departure from Yokohama had run down into the heads of the cylinders and so clogged things up generally that free use of "coal oil", as Westerners call kerosene, was required before I could get the engine running. All through this operation and the cleaning process that followed I had been continually aided by a most unusual youth from Los Angeles. Avowedly on a vacation tour with his 1913 Henderson, Robert Allen (they called him "Bob") forgot his own interests completely in unselfish endeavour to help me. Being much interested in my proposed trip across the continent, he soon became a very good friend; and finally, to my delight, I succeeded in inducing him to make the trip with me, at least as far as Chicago. 
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  p226
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on October 25, 2018, 03:51:51 PM
Agree with most of that except the lack of bridges.

This was in 1914, remember.

There was no mention of it in the above text.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 26, 2018, 04:41:12 PM
And of course, you'd be very correct. The idea of riding around the world on a Henderson (the first person to ride the world on a motorcycle) buying "parrafine oil" for 38 cents a gallon in 2 gallon tins is a hint that it's not recent conditions that's the subject.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 26, 2018, 04:43:03 PM
Cooled off during lunch time, my clutch held bravely to the top of the next long grade, and from here on six miles of fairly good road cheered us with the hope that the worst was over. Yet soon we were plowing through countless fords, washouts, rock piles, and mud holes again, and around the wickedest of hairpin turns. Before dark we had reached the foot of "Castle Rocks", flatteringly reproduced in railroad folders, and by nightfall arrived in the combination summer resort and lumbering town of Dunsmuir.
Too stiff to move a muscle without pain, we awoke at nine o'clock the following morning devoid of the slightest ambition to make a transcontinental motorcycle tour. Among the crowd still gathered about our machines in front we found a tourist who had just arrived from Chicago on a one-cylinder "X", and we fully believed his assertion that he had "walked most of the way," especially as he had taken four months to make the trip. As far as we could learn, we were the first motorcyclists to have motored to Dunsmuir from San Francisco, and when we reached Portland we were told that no motorcycle had ever made the complete tour between the two cities before.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  p236
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Williamson on October 26, 2018, 07:35:38 PM
...... buying "parrafine oil" for 38 cents a gallon in 2 gallon tins is a hint that it's not recent conditions that's the subject.

I seem to recall that when I started driving that petrol was 38 cents a gallon; that also was not recent.  And a long neck, 26oz, of VB was the same price. 

Just checked Dan Murphy for the price of a VB long neck, $7.39 which compare well to the price gallon of ULP, ~$7.26, assuming $1,60 per litre.

Bill may be along soon to tell as what these cost in his early days, but we might have to convert from £sd to make sense.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 26, 2018, 07:44:04 PM
4/- a gallon.  That's 4 shillings a gallon for the children.    :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on October 26, 2018, 08:27:49 PM
Used to pay 40 cents/gallon when I had taxis 1970, but I can remember that I paid 3 shillings per gallon for my bike in 1963, when I was 15 years old. (Earned from my paper round)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Mitch on October 26, 2018, 08:52:55 PM
At the present time 40cents wouldn't even pay the TAX on 1 litre of ULP.  :angry-old-man-smiley-emoticon
                           :grin :slvr13 :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 27, 2018, 03:23:16 PM
Pendleton now lay 26 miles to the southeast, with no sand enroute, according to the natives. We found plenty, however, but that was not the worst of it. I ran out of gasoline eight miles short of the town when Bob was a mile ahead. The only thing to do was to walk ahead a mile and a half till I found him waiting for me, send him back to pour some from his tank into mine via a Tuxedo can, and to trudge back again to get my "hoss". Soon after, we discovered we were both completely out of oil, but were fortunate to be able to graft some off a Ford that happened along just then; and in spite of all our troubles, rolled into the city of Pendleton before dark.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  p253
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 28, 2018, 05:24:42 PM
After the weary hours had dragged themselves away, the train hove in sight down the track and I manfully flagged it with an old flour bag. At first the conductor refused to take my Henderson into the baggage car, but my pleadings soon took effect, and with the aid of the brakeman and an obliging passenger we boosted and heaved the awkward machine up the slight embankment and through the door of the car seven feet above the ground. I was mighty thankful when it was loaded, I tell you, especially when I saw the fearful roads that lay ahead.
At the second station, as I expected, there was Bob waiting on the platform, he too, having been conquered by the mud. He joined me in the smoking car and the words we spoke were few and far between, as we rode through a great wheat country on to Walla Walla.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  pp256-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 29, 2018, 05:15:09 PM
Two o'clock saw us bumping along the ties of the single track road, off for Livingston, but the spaces between the ties, except for occasional stretches, and the zinc-covered trestles made our progress slow and agonizing in the extreme. Moreover, we experienced great difficulty in getting through the cow-guards placed at every cross road, and over the rails on turnouts. After three miles Bob gave it up for the road bad as it might be- but I hung on, bumping and shaking across the ties for two miles more before also giving in to the vibration. The road necessitated the use of chains, however, and even after I had put them on provided little better going than the railroad track, which I resumed again at the foot of a long grade.
But now the track was worse than before, and nearly shaking machine to pieces and hammering myself to pulp, and beyond the hill, when I wanted to resume the road again, a stout fence and grass-grown field precluded the possibility. With no choice but to continue the torture, I kept on down the track- and then the frame of my saddle broke, to double my agony. Whack! Thud! Down I came solid on top bar of the machine for every one of thousands of ties I had to cross during the mile I had to cover before I could get back into the road (through a field) again; and then I was fairly sick with the punishment thereof.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  p280
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 30, 2018, 06:56:01 PM
I may say in passing that a party of two or three riders can derive much more enjoyment from a world tour than a single. I was accompanied throughout much of the journey, of course, but I was also called upon to make some long and trying jumps alone. These experiences convinced me that much of the fascination of the motorcycle lies in the spirit of companionship that it encourages. There is so much to be seen and discussed along even the most ordinary foreign route that the rider travels alone soon finds that he is missing something. He needs a congenial partner.
American riders are already pretty well posted on touring conditions in eastern European countries, but they know little or nothing of riding conditions in the Far East for the very simple reason that in practically all of this territory the motorcycle is a newcomer.
Motorcycle Adventurer  Gregory Frazier  pp293-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 31, 2018, 11:59:06 PM
One day to go and I was finally clear that this was indeed going to be a solo trip. I felt a mixture of excitement and fear but it had heightened my sense of adventure in making the trip. I would be travelling alone for 5000 miles with no-one but myself to answer to. This was what real adventures were made off. I am comfortable with my own company and have to be in my line of work, but to take over two weeks out in a leisure context was a new experience for me. It would be an interesting experiment.
On Thursday the 28th of June I said my goodbyes at work. I was working down south at a client in Swindon and wandered out excitedly to get my taxi. There had been a lot of interest in my trip from those colleagues who had asked where I was off too. The Arctic Circle gets their attention and doing it alone adds to the package. A common reaction was a look of puzzlement/ horror/ envy followed by the words "What does your wife think?"
Ride To The Midnight Sun  Stephen Mason  p5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 01, 2018, 09:49:33 AM
I then go about my fairly well-rehearsed process of preparing to disembark. Bags loaded, Air-Hawke seat pad fitted, neck scarf on, gloves tucked behind the screen, Sat Nav mounted and route selected, helmet sitting on the mirror, jacket across the seat and key in the ignition. All ready waiting for signs of the gangway lowering. When that happens it's on with the jacket, helmet and gloves, mount the bike, ready for the off.
I have my moments, and don't always get it right, but I am streets ahead of my friend Raymond. His idea of bike preparation is gloves on, gloves off as he cannot fasten his helmet. Helmet and fastened. Helmet off as he has forgotten his earplugs. Earplugs in and helmet on and mount the bike. Dismount the bike and remove gloves to take off the disk lock. Gloves back on and ready to go. That's on a good day.
Ride To The Midnight Sun  Stephen Mason  p10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 02, 2018, 12:35:48 PM
I walked into the Pizza place, and found it to be of a kind of fast food style. I ordered the Burger menu with a beer which sent the waitresses into overdrive. How can you enter number 4 with a beer instead coke? I imagined they were saying. I was given a ticket 124 and told my number would be called. The young girl must have read my mind as I wondered what 124 is in Norwegian. Brought my £6 beer straight away and after a while she delivered number 124 by hand, to the annoyance of the other patrons. It has its advantages sometimes being old and uni-lingual. The burger was interesting as it's the first burger I've had smothered in prawn Marie sauce, but hey I was hungry, and wasn't for complaining. I did think to myself that I would have to review my eating habits as the trip progressed.
After that I picked up a lighter, some bread and cheese for breakfast from a supermarket next door then walked back to my tent. I slapped on some 'Skin so soft'; if it can repel the Scottish midge the Norwegian mosquito had no chance I reckoned. I sat on my camping chair, smoked a cigar and sipped some wine, reading about the next day ahead in the Arctic Highway book. I then came upon the hints and tips section. Always carry a spare key it said. That was a good point I thought, and it continued to worry me throughout the rest of the trip.
Ride To The Midnight Sun  Stephen Mason  p23
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 03, 2018, 08:39:01 PM
I know it's an old cliche, but the policeman did actually look very young as he finally approached me. He explained very politely that I had been caught doing 95km/h in an 80 km/h zone but as they had a tolerance it was reduced to 92km/h. He advised me that equated to a fine of 2600 Norwegian kroners.
"Do you want me to convert it to pounds?" he said, with his movie star smile beaming at me.
"Yes please" I said.
It turned out to be ridiculous £275.1 mean we're talking 60mph in a 50mph zone on a country road. I was livid.
"What happened to the pick-up driver?" I asked.
He looked a little troubled and walked over to his speed gun touting mate. He came back and told me that his mate didn't get an accurate reading. I stared at him and shook my head- it didn't stack-up. I mulled it over in my head for a second or two, but decided to cooperate and not push it any further, just in case they were able to come up with some other issues. To this day I wish I had pushed it harder, as I am sure there was something wrong going on.
Ride To The Midnight Sun  Stephen Mason  p54
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 04, 2018, 08:05:26 PM
The next morning I brewed some coffee, but decided I would stop off somewhere for breakfast, knowing I was facing another mega ride. There was a middle aged English couple in the kitchen where I cleaned my coffee pot. It was strange to hear native English being spoken again. Soon I was packed up and off once again before most other campers had stirred.
I came upon the large town of Sundsvall which had a McDonalds, and decided that would do me nicely. It proved to be the start of a bit of a McDonald's fest. I pulled up beside another fully loaded motorcycle, and after inspecting it, wandered in. The place was empty of customers except the other biker, who was in his twenties and sat eating breakfast in the corner. I ordered my Egg and Bacon McMuffin meal, and noted my sense that being there somehow marked my return to mainstream civilization like the mountain man coming back into town. I asked the biker where he was off to, and it turns out he was Swedish, and a local, just about to set off on a tour of Germany.
Ride To The Midnight Sun  Stephen Mason  p62
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 05, 2018, 08:45:05 AM
I was buzzing with excitement as I pulled back onto the highway and accelerated hard to get to autobahn pace. I suddenly heard an unusual clunking noise, and looked down only to discover that my Sat Nav had fallen off its mount, and was somewhere behind me on the highway. I was absolutely gutted, stunned in a way that shut me down. I was in a trance-like state as I continued along the road. I knew it was a defence mechanism, so I happily stayed with it.
After ten minutes or so I went through a very slow and logical thought process. Is it worth turning back I queried, considering it would be a least a twenty mile round trip and the chances of safely finding my Garmin in a working state would be more than slim. It's not so bad I ruminated, I mean its only my £450 Garmin that was going to lead me not only to the dealership, but also to accommodation for tonight, then the ferry port tomorrow. I was gutted and just to add to the mood the heavy rain returned.
Ride To The Midnight Sun  Stephen Mason  p71
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 08, 2018, 09:41:57 AM
Only two other women gained that award, Beatrice Shilling on an 490cc ohc Norton at 101.85mph on 24th August 1934, and Theresa Wallach on 1st April 1939, riding at 101.64 mph on a borrowed Francis L Beart prepared 348cc Norton. Though several other women riders gained considerable fame on the racetrack, it would be many more years before they too would achieve the same celebrity status as their male counterparts. But lady riders did particularly well in trials and the Six Day events, sponsored by the motorcycle manufacturers. One such was Marjorie Cottle who rode for Raleigh alongside Jessie Hole's brother. Jessie also enjoyed trick and stunt riding and, being intrigued by an American stunt rider who used to ride through plates of glass, decided to do this same trick in England, with the help of her brother. The first time was with one pane of glass and on another with two! They hoped that the panes of glass would survive the journey to the venue! Needless to say, few others were keen enough to try the trick for themselves. It is fair to say that most lady riders excelled because they enjoyed riding and taking part, although Theresa was much more forthright about her ambition to win. The motorcycle press certainly did give fair coverage to those lady riders who deserved credit.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 10, 2018, 08:18:00 PM
In June 1934 Florence entered the 600cc Panther (YG 7404), finished in black and orange (Theresa describes this as maroon), shod with 'knobbly' tyres and the Watsonian sidecar (complete with screen) at the Watsonian Rally, Birmingham, winning the William Watson Cup for smartest combination. By late November 1934, the entire outfit had been meticulously prepared at George Clarke Motors in Acton, under the expert guidance of former P&M technical engineer Frank Leach, who had left P&M in June 1933 to manage Clarke's Acton branch. The Panther with extra heavy duty Webb forks, stronger wheel spokes, wider mudguards to accommodate Fort Dunlop 3.50" car tyres and a Moseley block pillion saddle. Improved needle valve lubrication control to the valve gear and drive chains were also specified. The usual enclosed primary drive chain case was abandoned in favour of a simple top guard. The chain was to be lubricated in the manner of P&M's TT models by drip feed from a modified battery casing, mounted in its usual position, which served as an oil reservoir.
The service battery was an Exide unit from an Austin 7 motor car, located in the sidecar, and charged by a large car-type Miller dynamo. The gear ratios were specially adapted for low gear crawling with a 21.2:1 low and 5.9:1 top ratio.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p14
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 11, 2018, 12:08:25 PM
In the morning, soon after starting, we came to a standstill. Apparently we had 'goofed' our estimate of fuel for this stage of the journey, by not allowing drifts, wheel-spin and the cooking stove. We had run out of petrol! Then, like a fairy tale about a princess in distress, came instant surprise and happy ending!
The last North-bound vehicle to leave Ghardaia for three days happened to come along. We saw dust rising in the distance. "No... it's nothing". "Yes... something is coming this way!"
A heavy duty desert truck stopped, as the code of courtesy prevailed in barren country, and the two Frenchmen exchanged greetings and route information. They carried a good safety margin of supplies and kindly gave us a few litres of fuel to reach Ghardaia oasis. The driver, speaking in French and turning a hand outward toward the ocean of sand, warned us, "This region better than south of Ghardaia," to which his colleague added, "when you reach oasis...," as we understood him to say, "be wise, turn back!" With this advice, they drove off to make the most of the daylight - but on no account would we take his advice and turn back.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 12, 2018, 10:27:01 PM
We skimmed through another drift. Every hundred feet or so, dark patches of hard mineral-looking ground protruded, but between them were troughs of soft sand. We dashed from one patch of hard ground to another until the sand drifts between became so wide and deep that we could no longer leap-frog along unless we lightened the load. Everything was unloaded. Then in low gear, with the engine revving, by running and pushing alongside, we would drop the clutch and buck-jump aboard, as if starting a racing motorcycle without a kick-starter. Our unladen wheels skimmed over the bad places to the next dark patch of hard ground. Back-and-forth we walked to bring over all our belongings, piece-by-piece and reload, careful to leave nothing behind. Blenk voiced: "You know we are doing this of our own accord?" "Yes," I said, "but this is a hiking trip more that a motorcycle trip." I don't remember how many times we did like this along the desolate stretch of more than 250 miles between In Salah and Arak, on the way to Tamanrhasset, but in spite of hardship, we were free to put our civil liberty into practice in a most adventurous way.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p48
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 13, 2018, 09:33:32 AM
Back at the desert garage, after a few days rest, we prepared our kit for the next part of the Sahara trek to Agadez, the last oasis. By the regrettable process of elimination, everything except life-support items had to remain here in the trailer. Without the extra capacity of the trailer, we put aboard ten litres of fuel in the tank and carried three 20-litre containers of fuel in the sidecar for the single-cylinder Panther engine and the cooking stove, food and water was geometrically wedged into place taking into consideration weight distribution. Oil for the Panther, unobtainable for two thousand miles, included two quart cans of very thick SAE 70 viscosity engine oil.
The well at In-Guezzam, to the south, two hundred and fifty miles or about half way to Agadez, had a desolate wireless outpost, but there would be no fuel or food available. Then briefcase, log book, passports and other important papers, were pushed in. We had now to forfeit comfort and protection and the other contents in the trailer for a while and came away from the SATT garage wondering if we would ever see our things again. Everything was ready... except the bread.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  pp61-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 14, 2018, 10:02:25 AM
It had taken us a month to accomplish the crossing and we reached the last oasis with only a few minutes of our breakdown contract to spare. Captain Bernard de Romefort, of the Agadez region, came away from an evening game of tennis to confirm our arrival as we signed in and were taken to the traveller's rest shelter.
Some time later, a startling fact was revealed to us. The SATT vehicle from Tamanrhasset had been delayed and the mail truck on its run to Zinder had not yet returned. As it happened, there was no suitable desert vehicle immediately available for rescue duties. The thought crossed my mind that had we not made the effort to get ourselves out of trouble when the engine failed, by pushing the motorcycle such a long way, but had waited back there for help to come and considering our shortage of food, water, fatigue and the heat, what would have happened to us? We might very likely have met the same fate as that camel whose bleached bones we saw lying along the wayside.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p72
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 15, 2018, 11:32:02 AM
A single pair of wheel tracks left Kano, worn deep into the ground by four-wheelers. They were too wide apart for our narrow track and we went along hemmed in to the track by brown, sun dried grass about five feet high, with the motorcycle down in one groove and the sidecar up on the ridge in the middle leaning sideways at an awkward angle. Riding for many miles with the trailer like this put a strain on the front forks, besides which the physical tug of steering for hours in low gear at slow speed was tiring. Since the fibre generator drive block had worn smooth and was not driving the generator, our extra large capacity battery had been fully charged at Kano so we continued after dark using only the pilot bulb until bright moonshine sent light over the panorama and we could see better. Engine ignition was by magneto, so by not driving the generator, it saved horse-power, but gave us a meagre light only as long as it would last.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p87
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 16, 2018, 01:06:56 PM
Or 2nd May, 1935, we went off in the direction of Watsa, towards the equator. During the day, we unavoidably rolled over several more snakes that had run onto the track, but another had second sight and went the other way. The route twisted and turned, climbing steeply to a high altitude as the jungle thinned. In places we had to run alongside in bottom gear to steer and push together as we had done so many times before, to coax the motorcycle up the hill. High altitude and cool temperature affected the carburettor of the single cylinder Panther engine and for some unknown reason, the float-needle broke and fuel came streaming out of the float bowl. I whittled another float-needle out of wood from a twig with patience; it worked to a certain extent and sufficed until something better could be done.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  pp107-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 17, 2018, 12:54:18 PM
As much as possible was done to improve the condition of the motorcycle but wear and tear had made it more difficult to handle. Extreme temperatures made heat treated coil springs and hair-pin springs lose their tension. Foot change and kick-starter springs were now reinforced with rubber bands cut from inner tube. It was a hit and miss affair when we stalled in an awkward place! Saddle springs, if not broken, made the seat feel like sitting on dough while control cables were kinked and gritty, making them stiff to operate. Riding in deep ruts had forced the front forks, steering and sidecar out of alignment and at night we only had the dim light from our pilot lamp. Nevertheless, I had grown affectionately fond of our faithful 'Dobbin', as if a dear fretting friend, for we still had more than three thousand miles of life together.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p119
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 18, 2018, 02:56:01 PM
The information we heard at Mpika about road conditions ahead very likely saved us some trouble. A lorry driver told us that his party had taken six days to come north from Salisbury (now Harare), the capital of Southern Rhodesia. For over six hundred miles, there lay deep ruts and elephant grass, fifteen feet high, so on that account we altered our planned course.
The Victoria Falls route to South Africa took us far away from the ruins of Zimbabwe in Southern Rhodesia that we had hoped to see. These stone age relics date back 500,000 years. Zimbabwe is the revered name of the now independent nation, which was formerly Southern Rhodesia. I wondered about everything we had seen so far. Who indeed was the 'sleeping giant' - China or Africa?
Like driver ants, we kept going. We never had a normal day. We had no radio contact with the outside world, nor music to relieve the monotonous drone of the engine. Each day was a challenge. In the southern hemisphere mid-winter month of June, each night of restful sleep was under a full moon and stars. I never knew the moon could look so big or the stars so bright.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p127
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 19, 2018, 09:27:55 AM
I don't know what Blenk was thinking about during this dismal stretch as we gradually approached Cape Town. I had time to think about how much motorcycling meant to me and in the motorcycling fraternity, how I had met another woman, Florence Blenkiron of equal mind. Yet, some people consider a motorcycle to be a mechanical hazard. Certainly riders do fall off, but so too do people on foot, or from a horse or a bicycle, mostly due to a mistake or carelessness. A motorcycle is safe and useful; very economical and enjoyable to own and to believe otherwise is as foolish as to doubt the utility of a brick wall. One day, I thought to myself, I would have a riding academy and research the technique of motorcycle riding.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p135
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 20, 2018, 09:10:19 AM
Somebody said it couldn't be done,
But he with a chuckle replied,
That maybe it couldn't, but he would be one
Who wouldn't say so till he'd tried.

So he buckled right in with a trace of a grin
On his face - if he worried he hid it.
He started to sing as he tackled the thing
That couldn't be done, and he did it.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p137
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 21, 2018, 09:34:56 AM
With all her possessions packed onto the Norton, she left Chicago on 22nd September 1947 and was once more free to travel where she wished, heading due south, camping when she felt tired or where the captivating scenery stole her heart. However, unable to bring much money with her from England, she was forced to look for odd jobs en-route, heading through Springfield then Missouri, via the Ozark Lakes, entering Oklahoma State at Onapaw. She reached Oklahoma City by mid October where, by a chance popping of her head around the door of a motorcycle dealer, she saw the owner trying to cure, in desperation, a badly misfiring engine. Five minutes later, Theresa had it purring like a kitten. She found herself repairing motorcycles for the next two weeks!
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p158
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 22, 2018, 09:31:11 AM
Ascending the San Andreas mountain range in the evening, with snow falling at 5,000 feet, she eased back and relaxed for the journey ahead to Albuquerque. Later, as she mentally checked the bike when riding, she was horrified to see her toolbox had vibrated open and all her tools missing. A sense of deep frustration and dejection hit her; in the Sahara or Congo, this would have been life threatening, but she decided to head on to Albuquerque and in placing complete trust in her Norton, determined not to buy any tools there. Leaving the city the next morning, a motorist pulled alongside her at traffic lights, calling out, "Hey there! Hey! - have you lost anything?" To her astonished delight, he had found the tools some ten miles out of the city and reckoned they were hers.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p159
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 23, 2018, 09:26:05 AM
The International EXPO 67 exhibition, celebrating 'Man and his World', was held on islands in the St Lawrence. After exploring this fantasy world, it was time to press on to Toronto for the FIM International Grand Prix, but being Sunday in Canada, no shops or petrol stations were open. Feeling stranded, she managed to drain drops a of petrol from the many forecourt nozzles she passed on the way until she found one garage open - where, incredibly, she found her three gallon tank already almost full!
Practice day at the FIM meeting was on 29th September; she recorded, the sight and sound of the Honda team mechanics tuning adjusting, jetting and gearing their two 6-cylinder machines was alone worth the trip. She later ran a Honda 500/4. In complete contrast, the Italian team was dressed in business suits! It was a wonderful two days, just like the old times at Brooklands - although it did not rain in Toronto! Mike Hailwood proudly mounted the podium to receive his awards as God Save the Queen! majestically filled the air.
The journey home was in blissful, sunny, 80°F weather with the BSA Lightning behaving impeccably as she left Canada behind at Windsor, reentering America on Sunday, October 1st. She arrived back in Chicago on Monday night, just at as the sun was setting on another wonderful trip.
On October 11th, burglars broke into her shop and stole the Lightning.
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p167
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on November 23, 2018, 03:53:30 PM
I've been impressed with the bits of this story that you have posted that I have bought the book to read the full story. Thank you for posting these bits, I hope the publishers give you a fee for your efforts to motorcycling literature.  :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 23, 2018, 10:27:36 PM
I've been impressed with the bits of this story that you have posted that I have bought the book to read the full story. Thank you for posting these bits, I hope the publishers give you a fee for your efforts to motorcycling literature.  :thumb

Certainly no fee, although I have bought every one of these books myself- currently 149 of them in my library.  The greater danger is being sued for copyright.  I'm careful to limit the amount I excerpt for that very reason.
That said, your comment and one Pete made a while back about buying a book on the basis of the "reviews" would constitute a viable defence.
I have twice written to publishers seeking permission to put excerpts up on the Forum without a reply.  I did write to Lester Morris, an Australian writer and received his blessing.  He self-publishes.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on November 24, 2018, 06:07:48 AM
 :thumbs
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 24, 2018, 09:28:28 PM
Part of the sales process involved showing the novice rider how to control and operate the machine. This was usually accomplished at most motorcycle dealers by the dealer riding pillion while giving instructions to the novice as they wobbled precariously down the street, then leaving them to their own fate once the money had changed hands! But, with her experience as a Sergeant Instructor during the war, Theresa was determined at the outset to ensure any new owner was properly trained to ride and handle a machine.
Theresa's concern for safe handling extended to motorcycle maintenance: many customers were impressed by the way their machines always handled better after she had serviced them than before. She never did let on, for fear of ridicule that her secret was to scrub off and polish the grimy leather saddle to restore smoothness to its surface, so that the rider unconsciously slid back along the saddle, improving handling and manoeuvrability at speed!
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p167
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 25, 2018, 12:33:43 PM
Her introduction in the new book began: "Many years ago, I discovered the thrill of learning to ride. Since then motorcycling has provided me with economical transport together with independence and the pleasure of many touring and sporting adventures." She posed the question, "Why does a motorcycle, unlike any other machine, attract such attention and arouse such keen interest no matter where you are? Why are motorcyclists such enthusiasts? Is it the thrill of being astride the saddle? That glorious feeling of independence and total control over a beautiful piece of engineering; of rushing past the trees, swerving through curves, flying over the hills and riding with the wind?"
For those of us who are keen motorcyclists, I am sure we also often ask ourselves the same question, but how does one convey those feelings to someone who may never have ridden a motorcycle before?
Theresa was extremely keen to emphasise that 'Training' was not the same as 'Educating': 'Training' means following instructions such as "Do as I say - don't think for yourself, but when something new crops up, the novice is in a confused dilemma. A dog, despite its considerable intelligence, is trained - it is not educated by its handler. On the other hand, 'Education' is the ability to think things out for oneself, allowing the student to use their own intelligence to interpret the situation - an attribute which training tends to subdue."
The Rugged Road  Theresa Wallach  p172
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 26, 2018, 03:52:12 PM
What I would like to say on the subject comes strictly from my own experience. I have never had anything but kindness from Aboriginal people. To give you just one   example, when my bike had run out of petrol on the Nullarbor, it was an Aboriginal bloke with a car full of kids who stopped and helped after many other people of undetermined racial background had driven past. When I asked him if he had any spare petrol, he said "Sure. Have you got a hose to siphon it out of my tank?" I didn't, so he regretfully drove off - only to return a few minutes later. He'd seen a bit of hose by the side of the road, and had picked it up and turned around...
I hope I learned something from that bloke.
Motorcycling In Australia  Peter Thoeming  p16
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 27, 2018, 09:40:24 AM
And, of course, no helmet can protect you from every possible accident - no matter how much it costs, and no matter how often you replace it. The expanded polystyrene inner shell is the area which presents a bit of a twilight zone to most users, and yet it is a vital component. It absorbs the energy of an impact, which means it only works once. The little beads of polystyrene which make up the shell compress, their walls fail and (with a bit of luck) they save you from the too-rapid deceleration of skull and brain. But that's it; they cannot do it again. That's a very good reason for replacing your helmet after a fall.
The inner shell is also the component which causes a little discomfort during the 'breaking in' period of a new helmet. A correctly fitted helmet often feels a bit tight in spots (though that should never be across the forehead) for a few hours while the polystyrene settles in around your control centre. Once this process has taken place the helmet should be a perfect fit. But for you! As with its potentially life-saving ability, it only has this shape-changing ability once.
Motorcycling In Australia  Peter Thoeming  p75
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 28, 2018, 09:31:36 AM
I once met a bloke who had worn the case hardening off the end of one of his BMW's pushrods out in the middle of the Tanami Desert. As luck would have it, he had passed an abandoned Holden a few kilometres before. He walked back, removed the car's pushrods and found that it was too long for the Beemer. Undaunted, he hacksawed a bit out of the rod and then araldited a bolt into one of the newly-created ends and a nut into the other. By screwing them together, he made a rod of the right length. This was enough to get him to Rabbit Flat where he had many beers until someone could bring him a new pushrod from Alice Springs.
Motorcycling In Australia  Peter Thoeming  p87
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 29, 2018, 09:43:35 AM
The NSW State Emergency Service has some useful advice. "If you hear thunder ten seconds after a lightning flash, it is only about three kilometres away.  Find shelter urgently!"
They suggest seeking shelter in a solid building or a hard-topped vehicle, so that definitely means getting off the bike. Never shelter under small groups of trees or individual trees, remove metal objects from your body and get away from metal structures like fences - and bikes - and crouch down, feet together, in a hollow. Don't lie down, but avoid being the highest object around.
"If your hair stands on end or you hear buzzing on nearby rocks, fences etc, move immediately," the SES says. "At night, a blue glow may show if an object is about to be struck." So if the old bike starts to glow, kiss it goodbye - or rather don't kiss it, just get the hell out of there.
Motorcycling In Australia  Peter Thoeming  pp94-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 30, 2018, 12:08:28 PM
Hold onto your hat. Here it comes. "There is more to life than riding motorcycles." Yes, it's hard to believe - but take my word for it, it's true. But many of the best things in life tend to to be related to riding. Whatever you do, try to make the most of every day when you're out on the bike. I know that probably sounds a bit obvious, but I keep meeting people who have forgotten it.
"Carpe diem", as they say. Seize the day. I try to remember that whenever I'm out riding, but I frequently fail because when I see something that might be worth stopping for (a view, a shop, a photo opportunity, whatever) I'm inclined to think, "I must stop for that next time". But of course there never is a next time.
Motorcycling In Australia  Peter Thoeming  p107
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 01, 2018, 09:15:28 AM
I can still see it all today. The bike straightened out and headed for the ditch. I had come off the seat and had lost my hold on the grips. I was to the left of the bike, in the air, headed for the ditch. I still remember the moment we- the bike and I- made contact with the ditch. I can still see the front tire and handlebars as they struck and twisted hard to the left. Then, as I rolled in the ditch, I lost sight of the bike- but not for long. As I rolled in the ditch, my own bike ran over me. We were both moving kinda fast. Then I caught up with it and ran over it. Then it ran over me again. I remember the dirt in the air, thrown up by the bike as I rolled over it one more time.
I wasn't wearing a helmet. There I was, lying in the ditch, both arms over my head, curled into the smallest ball I could make. I could hear the bike right behind me, still running. Waiting for it to make one more pass over me, I was still with anticipation. Moments passed, and then I looked. It lay there, twisted, but still running. What to do?
50 Wild Motorcycle Tales  Walter F. Kern p14
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 02, 2018, 12:43:03 PM
Icing began just south of Waco. The helmets with face shields were at least keeping our faces from freezing. The daytime speed limit then was 70, and we were doing at least 50. Somewhere just short of Temple, spaced out and running with the flow of traffic, the CB 500 was going over a bridge (a culvert overpass) and just went down before my eyes. Boom! Wow! It happened so fast (no skid). It seemed like it just collapsed. Next, the 350, with passenger, went down. Oh-Oh. I had no time to brake or swerve (plus I was numb from the cold). Physics was totally in charge.
As soon as I hit the bridge, I went down too. So there we were, four people, three bikes, sliding down the bridge on a sheet of ice like glass. We, indeed, had a problem, but a bigger potential problem was- as I noticed as I went round and round on my back- the semi bearing down on us from the rear and cars behind him sliding all over trying to regain control.
50 Wild Motorcycle Tales  Walter F. Kern p50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 03, 2018, 08:50:53 AM
I sat on Lazelle Street in Sturgis for hours as my engine got hotter and hotter. The parade of motorcycles and campers moved so slowly that once again I resorted to the tried and true shut-it-down and push-along-when-I-can means of surviving traffic jams with an air-cooled engine. I had a rapidly developing headache, possibly brought on by dehydration, although I didn't realize it at the time.
Eventually, after hours of creep, creep, creep and people hooting and hollering and talking to people while we waited in traffic and going and stopping and going again, I finally got past the Full Throttle Saloon at the edge of town. I took a left onto 79 and found the Iron Horse Campground a few miles down on the right. I pulled in about 10 o'clock at night, weary bodied and bleary eyed, got registration paperwork quickly taken care of, and headed out into the campground in the darkness looking for a flat place to camp. I was too tired to even set up my tent. I just threw down a tarp, then my sleeping bag, and finally another tarp on top.
I make this sleeping bag sandwich if I know it's just a quick one night stay when I'm travelling. I made it at Sturgis when I just didn't give a damn.
50 Wild Motorcycle Tales  Walter F. Kern pp89-90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 06, 2018, 12:02:18 PM
Thursday our campground neighborhood took a collective ride to Custer State Park. I was invited to be a passenger for the day. Usually I like the independence of riding my own bike but after some consideration of benefits to occasional passengerdom I decided to take advantage, mixed up some vodka and ice tea, and boarded a back seat of a yellow Gold Wing...
I can now say, based on experience, that I love Harleys best. I'm not saying that the Gold Wing was a bad bike, for it was not. It was a seamless machine which glided through curves and took us past Rushmore and on through Custer Park. It was an excellent machine, and I took advantage of the cup holders and arm rests and speakers and wind flange things. It's just that it had no thunder. When I ride my motorcycle, there is a dialog between the two of us. I listen to its engine, and I feel the way it handles. It tells me how the road is, and I tell it which one to travel on. I once got to ride a friend of mine's old Super Glide, and as I rode, it tried to have a conversation with me. I heard its engine thunder the way it does for its owner. I felt the frame telling me about the road. The transmission gave me a conversational greeting every time I shifted. A Gold Wing, while an eminently competent bike, does none of these things. It simply goes. There is no soul; there is no conversation. I ride a bike for adventure and companionship. So I guess I'll stick with my Sportster.
50 Wild Motorcycle Tales  Walter F. Kern pp92-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 07, 2018, 09:27:30 AM
I separated parts, washed them, chased threads on bolts and nuts, and was ready to try to assemble the parts into a motorcycle.
I went to the local bike shop, asked many questions, and looked for advice. As I talked to the owner, another biker came in the door. The owner pointed to him and said, "That's the guy you need to talk to.
I introduced myself and proceeded to explain my troubles. Unbeknown to me, he was president of the local one-percenters. We became friends, and he was soon helping me build my first Harley.
He told me it was a 1937 Knucklehead. (He called it a Knuck.) It had a suicide clutch and a jock-shift. We got it going and rode few short rides together.
My new friend invited me and my girlfriend to go on a weekend run with his club. We were on our way and were stopped at a red light. Suddenly, my girlfriend shifted her weight. I lost my balance, and my foot came off the clutch. The rear tire barked, and we shot through the light. The traffic stopped, and my new friends followed me straight through the red light, right on my tail.
I was the man of the hour. They never knew the truth.
50 Wild Motorcycle Tales  Walter F. Kern p114
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 08, 2018, 10:46:20 AM
My wife and I started looking for a car for me, and I hated them all. She asked me if I wanted to go to a bike shop instead- half as a joke- and I realized that, despite the accident, I didn't want to give up riding. We went to a local bike shop, and I bought another V-Max, this time a 2006, with red flames, shift light, and all the geegaws you could stick onto a V-Max. I barely started to get comfortable on this bike when I had my third accident.
This time, I was at a red light in the far right lane of a Tucson city street with a truck to my left. The light turned green, and I pulled out into the
intersection, when the truck to my left slammed on its brakes. I continued forward, and had just enough time to look to my left, and see a white car barrel through the intersection, and T- bone me at high speed.
The driver- a 30-year-old-lady on her cell phone, listening to her techno music, and not paying attention- had run a red light and hit me so hard that the impact scooped both me and my motorcycle onto the hood of her car. She had carried me for a short distance before she slammed on her brakes, and I slid off her hood like a pancake would off a spatula. I had been wearing my helmet which was a good thing, since my head slammed into the pavement, and the helmet took the blow. My back was twisted a bit and my leg was pinned by a bumper. Beyond that, I was unhurt. To this day, I feel that God reached down and saved me, possibly for my daughter's sake.
50 Wild Motorcycle Tales  Walter F. Kern pp155-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 09, 2018, 11:15:22 AM
One day, I was riding my Honda 90 on a residential street, maybe 25 miles per hour, when I noticed a Coke can directly in front of me. This one was still perfect, hadn't been flattened yet. On a whim, I decided to see if I could hit it. It happened to be perpendicular to my front wheel, so I hit it perfectly. I was feeling smug about my precision riding for about two tenths of a second, when my front wheel locked up, and I went down like a sack of potatoes.
What happened?
I picked myself up and looked at my front wheel. When the wheel rolled over the can, the ends were pulled in, and the can clamped itself to the tire, then came up and jammed itself between the forks, locking the front wheel!
A nice lady and her teenage daughter heard the crash, and came out to see if I was OK. They invited me into their house to clean up my road rash and offered me a cool drink- Coke, of course.
50 Wild Motorcycle Tales  Walter F. Kern p159
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 10, 2018, 01:14:13 PM
My wife appeared. She was smiling under her helmet. We mounted the bike and were off. What made a couple approaching their fiftieth birthdays want to get on a motorcycle on a day like this? It was cold, miserable, and foggy. There was mud on the road from the tractors, and it was so humid that it was almost like rain, yet we were happy to be on the road on a motorcycle. I think it is the perspective. Yes, travelling by car is like riding in a submarine, protected by fathomless obscurity of comfort. One relaxes in the boredom of the sealed perspective, where surface woes can hardly bother the mind, entertained by distant voices coming from the antenna and quick looks through the tinted glass of the periscope, now and then "surfacing" at a gas station or rest area for a whiff of clean air and a quick look at the scenery.
Like "surface skimmers", we find ourselves at the mercy of the weather. We sit behind our handlebars grinning under blue skies, or clenching our teeth in determination when heavy rain hits us square in the face. And only under untenable circumstances, do we seek refuge on the leeward side of a motel's parking lot or under any convenient portico.
In exchange, we get to be at one with nature, making the arrival to our destination an almost spiritual experience.
50 Wild Motorcycle Tales  Walter F. Kern pp185-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 11, 2018, 11:42:00 AM
The title was to arrive the following morning. The rest of the day I changed the bike's oil, mailed my spare tires to Panama, and tried not to irritate my riding buddies. There was a little tension, but nothing out of the ordinary for the day before such a big trip. The next morning would go like clockwork: get up, eat, get ready, get the title, and cross the border to Latin destinations unknown. No problem. So the adventure had arrived. The mission? To explore new lands, to imbibe many drinks with little umbrellas, and to boldly go where other people already live. The trip of a lifetime was about to begin.
You could say that things went like clockwork that morning- if the clock you're referring to is broken or several hours slow. The title paperwork for my motorcycle arrived at 10:30 a.m. but we didn't actually leave McAllen for Latin destinations unknown until noon. It was all my fault. I was copying important documents and emailing a final update, and when I realized the time I rushed to the motel in such a hurry that I dropped my bike in the parking lot. Peter was not his normal, joking self. Robert glared at me so hard I got welts.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  pp19-20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 12, 2018, 10:22:44 AM
The greatest thing about the Internet on a trip like ours was that no matter where we went, whatever town we stopped in, as long there was a computer with Web service, I had mail from home. I hadn't felt homesick even once. How can you feel far away from people you care about when you can communicate with them daily and receive correspondence in seconds? Soon there'd be no more remote areas- the Internet was changing the whole face of travel. But after waiting my turn for the computer, I discovered that the machine refused to connect to the server. I was annoyed, to say the least. I wanted my instant gratification, and I wanted it now! How dare this crappy little joint boast of Internet to sucker me in here and get my beer money, only to pull the Web out from under me? A complaint to the barman seemed in order. He was behind the counter, about 5'8" and balding, with tattoos on both arms. I walked right up to where he stood stacking bottles on a shelf. He had, I noticed, a Smith & Wesson automatic tucked into the back of his shorts. This was definitely no longer Mexico; the only guns I saw there were held by professional soldiers. But this guy had a very real, and very deadly, gun. "Need something?" the bartender said impatiently over his shoulder.
"Just another beer, please."
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  pp50-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 13, 2018, 10:07:13 AM
We made it to the Guatemala/El Salvador border, located just outside Pedro de Alvarado. We managed to survive the great staged border event, which was perfectly orchestrated for our benefit by all the characters at the customs, police, and immigration offices. They figured us for what we were- (relatively) rich tourists- and quickly dedicated themselves to making our lives hell by wasting time, slowing internal processes, and delaying us so we'd have to ride after dark, which we were dead set against. They knew that if they could pull some sleight-of-hand and make our passports or vehicle titles disappear, we'd have been under their control.
One man, impersonating an official, followed us to our bikes, had us open our bags, and proceeded to enter our customs information on bogus forms, wasting about a half hour of our time. Back inside, the guy disappeared with our "necessary paperwork" and we had to do it all over again with the real official. After that we were separated, and while I sat alone with our jackets, helmets, and other gear waiting for Peter and Robert to return, another official came rushing all panicky, and told me my friends needed my help in a hurry. "Right now!" At first I was shocked, ready to rush to their aid, but when I stood and quickly started gathering the gear he said, "No, no, you must go right now!" Something in his voice gave him away. I calmly sat back down, eyeing him with my arms folded across my chest, and waited for my companions to return. He made a few more attempts to convince me, but by then he could see I knew his game. He wanted me to leave our gear unattended so he could steal it.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  pp72-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 14, 2018, 12:06:30 PM
We continued to Sarchi, a place famous for brightly painted oxcarts, so we popped into a factory by the side of the road to see how these regional treasures were made. The owner, Juan Carlos Alfaro came out to meet us. His grandfather built the factory seventy-four years before and the entire operation still worked in the traditional way, completely free of electricity. All of the machinery in the barn-like building was powered by the Senior Alfaro's clever mechanical creations, which transformed the energy of a local stream (via a waterwheel and a deceptively simple system of ropes, levers, and pulleys) into mechanical force for drill presses, sanders, table saws, and other tools. The factory itself was a wonder of creativity and human ingenuity.
The painted oxcarts were exquisite. Brightly colored and ornately detailed, they varied in sizes from a large wheelbarrow to a small truck. We followed Juan Carlos as he proudly displayed the inner workings of the shop and the traditional crafting techniques handed down unchanged from his grandfather's time.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  pp100-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 15, 2018, 10:36:40 AM
I later learned that Robert and Peter had found the landmark at the Mitad del Mundo, and after shooting the requisite equator photos, began looking for something else to do. They discovered a trail leading down into an old volcanic crater, which was overgrown with jungle plants and populated by a small number of Ecuadorians. Peter led the way, and they began working their bikes down the narrow path until they realized it was much steeper and more difficult to negotiate than it first appeared. Having come too far to turn back, they had to slowly walk the bikes down the trail one by one. They carefully descended, nearly sending the bikes crashing down the inside wall of the crater as they lost their footing several times. Eventually they reached the bottom, and since they didn't know the area, it looked as if they would have to get the bikes flown out by helicopter. Finally they found a road out, after meeting some interesting crater people.
They bought sodas from an old woman who'd been born in the crater and supposedly never left it to see the outside world. They also met a ranger who hit them up for a bribe for "illegally entering" the crater. I never really wondered how one could illegally enter a crater, but if I had to pick someone that would be capable of such a feat, my choice would definitely have been Peter.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  p152
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 16, 2018, 11:55:41 AM
The warm sun woke me up and I felt good. The unpleasantness of the prior evening was forgotten. I realized that I'd been on the road for over two months. Right then, accountants somewhere were counting other people's money. Pharmacists were filling prescriptions, builders were laying foundations, and children were shining shoes. I was riding a motorcycle to the tip of South America, and on that sunny day all other cares were put aside because there was something so indescribably right with the world. The other guys wanted to tour some ruins, but I'd had enough of ruins, and of them, for a while. By noon they still hadn't left and again asked me to go, but still I declined. I squandered the day around town, ate in dark local places with truckers and farmers, and emailed home from an Internet cafe.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  p178
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 17, 2018, 11:19:33 AM
A truck. Oh shit. Wham. Just like that, the ordeal was over. Right before my front tire collided with the truck's bumper, I sensed in my gut that I was going to be fine. That sensation removed all fear, and I was free to relax and experience the moment clearly. I was pure sensation as I moved in the thrall of forces beyond my control. I suddenly felt tranquillity and deep understanding. Zen Buddhists call a moment like that satori, a brief time without thought, yet with complete understanding, clarity, and focus- a feeling of infinite space. The front tire hit, the forks bent, and my bike pivoted forward on the axle of its front wheel, smashing the fairing and headlight against the grille. I slid forward and my helmet and shoulder smacked against the hood. I recall a flash of the look on the faces of the two guys in the cab. Their mouths were open, eyes as big as fried eggs. I also noticed upon my very close visual inspection of the truck that it was not as clean as it first appeared.
I hit the ground and felt nothing wrong with my body- I was fine. My next thought was for my bike and how badly it might be damaged.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  p192
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 18, 2018, 09:28:26 AM
In the States you can't ride a skateboard without some authority looking over your shoulder to make sure you are not hurting yourself or someone else. In Latin America, you can strap a rocket to your skateboard like Wile E. Coyote and go flying down the middle of the highway and nobody will care (except, possibly for a cop that wants a bribe). That freedom is intoxicating and easily exploited to inappropriate levels. Especially when you are already intoxicated. The motto that night was, "You only live once, but not necessarily for very long."
So we went spinning our tires in the dunes and a few Colombians spun over in the sand. We took photos, documenting the night and our naked butts as we mooned the camera. At one point, when all the Japanese bikes were pushing red lines in the dark near 90 mph, a certain unnamed black-robed rider (who's been accused of looking like a fat, generous elf famous for speed) blew past us, doing at least 110 MPH.
We all made it back safely that night, but I don't know if we deserved to. I think more than one of us vowed never to do something that stupid again. Robert's fate was sealed; after that day there was no moral high ground. He'd been debased and pulled down to the level Peter and I frequented, and now he couldn't go back.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  pp208-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 19, 2018, 09:37:51 AM
The following day we made our way to Coroico. The little town was of no interest, except for the fact that the only way there is along the World's Most Dangerous Road. That name, in part, comes from the road's contribution to Bolivia's worst mass transit disaster ever, in which over one hundred people died in a single crash. Carlos Pizarrino-Inti was driving an overloaded collectivo truck that plunged off the narrow dirt path and fell thousands of feet to the jungle floor below. There were no survivors. That accident happened back when the Coroico road was bidirectional. Regulations for traffic have since been changed to make the road less dangerous. The road is now one-way to Coroico for part of the day, and then one-way back to La Paz (the opposite direction) for the rest of the day. Don't be deceived- the road is still profoundly unsafe.
First of all, it's very narrow and fraught with bad drivers. Big trucks and buses careen around the corners, never concerned that a car could be broken down or stopped in their path around the next blind curve. There are no guardrails on the roadside as it weaves along sheer cliff walls. The road is almost entirely dirt and dried clay, which is incredibly slick when wet (only slightly less slippery than an oil patch). Several waterfalls cascade onto the road off the mountain, and wherever they hit, the dirt is washed away to reveal slick rocks and the scary clay mud. Even if you try to be safe and drive in the very centre you're still only two meters and a stifled scream away from the longest (and last) thirty seconds of your life.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  pp239-40
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 20, 2018, 09:57:38 AM
Efrain was short, caramel skinned, and black haired. He had laughing eyes and a red baseball cap with the Calvin Klein logo on it. He seemed to be making a decent living as a guide- at least a lot more than he made as a miner.
First stop on our tour was for needed supplies. At the market we picked up Argentine and Chilean dynamite (the Bolivian brand is reputedly of poor quality and unpredictable strength), slow-burning fuses, blasting caps, and ammonium nitrate to strengthen the explosions. We also got some chunks of calcium carbide- when mixed with water these small grey rocks give off a gas used to light the miner's headlamps. Then there was the much-needed firewater- supposedly six miners can drink a one-litre bottle of the 190-proof alcohol in a single day and still be productive. (This is a ridiculously potent amount- a average human would require weeks of blacked-out benders to polish off a bottle of the stuff). On top of all that we bought cigarettes, matches, coca leaves, and banana-flavoured coca leaf activator.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  p254
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 21, 2018, 09:46:59 AM
So there we were, stuck on the edge of an unstable salt lake with no obvious way to reach the road south. Information from a local was imprecise, as was the hand-drawn map given to us by the tour guide that booked our hotel stay. Even Robert's GPS was useless because it had no distinguishing landmarks programmed into it, and the cities it used as references were too far away. We simply couldn't find the road! We were trapped. There was the land, what we needed most, and we couldn't touch it. I felt like a salty Tantalus.
"Damn it, Andrés!" The stress was getting to Peter- he never called me by my real name. "We don't have enough gas to go riding around from one side to the other looking for the road."
"What do you want to do?" I said. "We can't sit around wasting all our daylight either." There were several tense moments as we sat under the blazing sun, debating our options. Peter wanted to go west. I wanted to go east. Robert didn't know what to do and just kept checking his GPS, perhaps hoping he'd somehow misread it, and would now find the answer to all our problems. Finally I convinced the guys that we needed to head southeast, where I was sure we'd cross the road. Fortunately (they would've killed me otherwise), I was correct, and we soon saw a tourist truck. "Sure," the tour driver said, "the road's right over that way." The road was just piled earth, built up like a bridge to cross the mush. So we weren't going to end up dead and salted like six-foot pieces of jerky after all.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  p262
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 22, 2018, 10:02:40 AM
Nat was originally from England, but he'd lived in Argentina for five years and spoke near-perfect Spanish. He wore a crew cut and stubby five-day beard, and his black suit and yellow moto boots were coated in road dust.
"I almost didn't make it here," Nat said. "I was held up in Quito waiting for the bike." What a coincidence, I thought. He made it sound as though he'd just been there. In fact, he had. He'd run a bit behind schedule and had to bolt down from Ecuador in a matter of weeks to make it to Ushuaia in time for the millennium party. Like the rest of us, Nat heard about the collection of motorcyclists that were going to be there and wanted to be a part of it.
When we'd all finished we stepped outside and saw Nat's bike. He rode an Africa Twin with a monstrous, custom-built, twelve-gallon tank. Nat was of average height, but his bike was stacked up with gear on the tank and tail that, in order to mount it, he had to make a bold, running leap with his right foot forward, throwing himself onto the sheepskin-covered seat as if performing a flying front kick from a bad Kung-fu movie. We all found this tremendously entertaining. I could sense that Gail wanted to adopt him right away.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  pp308-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 23, 2018, 12:27:31 PM
I heard hooting and shouting, greetings for the appearance of my lone headlight. The motorcycling masses came out to welcome me in leather and ballistic nylon jackets, with unshorn faces and filthy boots. They offered cups of hot German wine and warm handshakes. Steam escaped their smiling teeth. People I'd never seen before hugged me hello.
Tents were everywhere. Bikes were everywhere. This was a road warrior convention. Fifty bikers from Denmark, Germany, the United States, the United Kingdom, Scotland, France, Australia, and Japan among other places had gathered together in Laguna Verde campground at the end of the Pan-American Highway. Even Walter and Sandra were there, the two Germans who'd been waiting in San Pedro de Atacama for three weeks to get a box of lightbulbs.
There was an incredible feeling of camaraderie and togetherness. We were the dedicated few, the privileged crazies. We were a group the likes of which had never been formed before. This camaraderie was exactly what I didn't know I was hoping to find. I was a member of a strange and magnificent species of migratory bird that, for some reason, had come to the end of the world only to discover myself surrounded by all my waiting siblings. Welcome to Ushuaia, they said. Have some hot wine, they said.
Odyssey To Ushuaia  Andrés Carlstein  p312
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 24, 2018, 09:18:42 AM
"Success is not the key to happiness. Happiness is the key to success. If you love what you are doing, you will be successful."
Albert Schweitzer
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 25, 2018, 01:00:16 PM
When she, Birgit, said all that time ago in Asia, "Yes I'll come with you to South America, but I want to ride my own bike," I'd said, "OK, but you'll have to maintain it".
She'd taken this comment to heart and had bought a beaten-up old BMW R60/5. With a friend she had ripped the bike to bits, and had rebuilt it, twice. She'd become a really good mechanic and in some areas was far better than I was, even after my four and a bit years on the road. Now, as her bike was to the front, Birgit pulled out her tools and got on with the task of putting it back together.
The crowd of labourers was now about thirty strong and they looked on in stunned silence as a girl got to work doing a man's What made it more confusing for them was that I, as the man, was hanging around, seemingly as a spare part. In actual fact, of course, I was just respecting Birgit for her ability and knew that she'd ask if she needed help. I was also shooting an occasional glowering look at the men as best I could. This was an unspoken, "Stay back and keep your hands off our tools and kit" type of stare. It would have been too easy for something to go missing if we both got our heads down and were focusing on bike mechanics.
The porters' eyes flicked from Birgit with confusion, to me with a mixture of contempt (how could I let a woman do a man's job?) and admiration (Good grief, he's even trained his woman to do this for him. He must be a king!)
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p21
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 26, 2018, 09:19:28 AM
But solo travel has its down sides too. It can be really lonely. It can mean that you and your belongings are more vulnerable. And I was often conscious that something important in life was missing - something that is quite natural for the vast majority of us - sharing, tenderness, warmth, and a joy that you only find when you are with someone that you really care about.
There had been many times when I would have loved to be able to share a special situation with someone. There can be a sort of glow about something amazing when you can experience it with someone you're 'in tune' with. Sunsets, phenomenal views, and those wacky funny moments that seem to happen all the time when you're on the road, are just a few of the moments that should be shared.
There were also more than a few occasions in my 'solo' past when it would have been very nice to have someone around to help me pick my bike up when I'd dropped it, yet again!
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p32
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 27, 2018, 10:21:57 AM
I told Birgit that whatever happened, she should always keep her engine running. She might need to make a quick getaway, and an engine that wouldn't start in a panic situation would have been pretty stupid. But I'd also been told that we were far more likely to see game without scaring them off if we kept the engines running. The sound, after initial suspicion, would become the norm, and whatever animal it was would happily carry on going about its business. The plan worked with a small cluster of antelope, but would it work with the large group of elephant that stepped out of the bush into the road in front of us?
The lead elephant was highly suspicious and stood between us and her family. The old cow's big cars were flapping furiously and she kept curling her trunk upwards, before letting out what sounded to me like shrieks of pure rage. I started to look for an escape route. There wasn't one and a three-point turn on this loose stuff wasn't going to be easy. All we could do was to sit there, not moving a muscle, keeping the engines ticking over - we just had to be patient. Around us the bush seemed to have gone deathly still, as if everything was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. If I hadn't been so afraid of stalling the bike I'd have had my fingers firmly crossed.
Then, after a magnificent ten minutes of swaying back and forth stamping the ground, snorting and ear-flapping, she simply turned around, trumpeted again and she and her family crashed off into the bush. She left Birgit and me sitting in the silence on our bikes, sweating furiously. I was conscious then that it was no wonder the elephant had been so agitated. The smell of our fear, combined with the scents of hot oil, metal and rubber from the bikes, must have made a really offensive and worrying odour.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  pp78-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 28, 2018, 10:15:10 AM
I was alive and the bike was still in one piece, but there was some damage. The stitching on the panniers had probably rotted - they had been on the bike in all weathers for a long time. The bag had fallen onto one of the BMW's horizontally opposed cylinders and the heat from that had melted a candle that I bunged in the bag at the last minute. I'd forgotten to pack it in one of the aluminium panniers where it usually lived.
The candle had melted through the canvas of the pannier and turned it into a giant wick! As the heat from the engine increased, the bag had caught fire. Inside it were my waterproof trousers and my SLR camera.The good news was that I'd only just put a new film in it. The upside was that this blackened and melted piece of modern art was insured.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p101
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 29, 2018, 09:18:58 AM
Pitching camp in Patagonia was a two-person job. We'd carefully unpack the tent with one of us making sure that nothing blew away, while the other clipped the tent poles together. Then with one person, usually me because I'm the heavier, holding the inner and fly sheet down, the other, usually Birgit, would scurry round feeding the poles into slots on them both. We would both then hang on for dear life as we erected the tent. This was the critical time. If one of us lost our footing or a handhold then the tent would be gone and we would be facing a very cold night plus the loss of a couple of months' food budget. When Birgit had got as many of our six inch nails into the stony ground as she could, she would leave me sprawled out over the top of the flysheet like some sort of human splat against the fabric, while she collected rocks and used them to weigh down the pegs and the snow-skirts that fringed the flysheet.
Tent secure, we would park the bikes as a sort of windbreak, but in such a way that they would not be blown onto the tent. This happened to a friend's fully-laden BMW! Then we would collapse into the windless, dustless tent, shattered but nice and warm from our efforts.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p128
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 30, 2018, 12:14:54 PM
Someone once said to me, "There's no point in travelling, it's all been done before." I had a wry grin to myself. Others might have made it to Ushuaia before, but I doubted that anyone would have done it with the collection of events we were having. It was just proving the point that everyone has their own trip made up of a unique mix of jigsaw puzzle pieces. To illustrate that point, I remember a friend telling me that he'd been chatting with someone and discovered that they'd both been to the same city. Yet the things that each had seen and done were so different that their visits might as well have been to completely different places.They'd made a plan to travel back to this city with each showing the other what they had discovered and experienced. I loved the concept.
We were still looking for the pieces of our jigsaw puzzle, or perhaps it was more that they were all there in front of us, but that we hadn't yet worked out how they'd fit together. We'd no idea if we could actually make it down by hitching but felt that it was well worth a try. After all, we'd have our tent and we could carry enough food and water for several days. We could just camp near the roadside if we had to wait for a long time. 
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p136
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 31, 2018, 01:23:56 PM
The road changed between tarmac and gravel and it began to curve in great swoops along valleys whose slopes were covered in evergreen forests. The Andes stood tall, proud and beautiful to the west of us. Sometimes the tops were clear and at others the snowline seemed to be cloaked in cloud. The bikes were behaving perfectly as if they were glad to have us back and even happier to be on the road again. Riding behind Birgit, I could hear the comfortable growl of Sir Henry the Hybrid. Beneath me Libby ticked and purred. Her load seemed to be in perfect balance and when we were on the gravel sections her dual-purpose tyres seemed to be happily working overtime to keep the bike rolling steadily forward.
We planned to ride short days of just 150 kilometres but with this stunning riding we just wanted to keep going. It was as if all the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle had finally fallen into place. Life couldn't possibly get much better. This was why we were out on the road. We were free and at the same time we were part of something amazing. We were in control again, but that didn't matter - we were quite happy for the land and the road to tell us where to go. If a town looked interesting we stopped for a wander round. If a view from a nearby hillside looked as if it might have potential, we climbed it. People waved at us when we passed them, or they passed us in their always overloaded cars, and from time to time truck drivers cheerfully hooted their horns at us.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  pp160-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 01, 2019, 11:06:21 AM
"Once a journey is designed, equipped, and put in process, a new factor enters and takes over. A trip, a safari, an exploration, is an entity, different from journeys... A journey is a person in itself; no two are alike. And all plans, safeguards, policing and coercion are fruitless. We find after years of struggle that we do not take a trip; a trip takes us."
John Steinbeck
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p174
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 02, 2019, 12:03:19 PM
A glow had been put on this first day back out on the road, at the petrol station. We'd just finished re-fuelling, and paid, when a man came striding over, thrust a bar of chocolate at each of us, smiled, turned and strode off again. I sat on the bike, with her engine turned off, and marvelled at his thoughtfulness. I vowed that one day, when I saw some foreign bikers in a petrol station in my country, I'd do exactly the same thing.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p195
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 03, 2019, 10:18:16 AM
The long open roads were good for thinking and that's one of the things I enjoy most about travelling on a bike. I never tired of the sound of my tyres on the road. I loved the sound of Libby's engine tapping away beneath me. The feeling of the breeze on exposed skin was a comfort- a reinforcement of the sense of freedom travelling gave me. I loved to smell the changes of the land as we rode and sometimes the difference in temperature between a sunny section of road and a section in the shade was a real attention-grabber. But the opportunity to be so in tune with my bike that I didn't have to think about what I was doing was a fine thing. This left me the chance to think about all sorts of wild and unrelated things.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p202
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on January 03, 2019, 05:49:19 PM
 :thumbsup So true.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 04, 2019, 03:52:01 PM
On the wall was a small blackboard on which the day's offerings were displayed. For a set price you could have a three-course meal. The main course was always a challenge; a voyage of culinary discovery.
There were plenty of things on offer that we simply don't eat any more. Dessert would often be a slab of some sort of cake or other. These cakes didn't taste of much, were incredibly sweet and their colours were grotesquely artificial: strawberries are never that red. The last course would be a cup of mate de coca and it seemed to have a way of settling the stomach very nicely.
You need a stomach-settler when your main course has been a thin vegetable gruel, enhanced with a chicken's greasy yellow claws. (You discover this when your soup's level has dropped far enough to reveal the black tips of the upside-down claws). On other days our soup was enriched with grey chunks of tripe that still had strips of half-digested grass stuck to the follicles.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p237
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 05, 2019, 09:02:33 AM
In the morning we were woken by the sound of tables and chairs scraping across the floor in the restaurant next door. We stared at each other, bleary-eyed. We didn't need to speak. We automatically fell into our routine, though the sensation of flip-flopping across the sticky floor was an odd one. Birgit took the first shower. Seconds later she yelled out at me. The electrical current was running right into the stream of shower water. If she'd not been wearing her rubber flip-flops she'd have had a nasty shock for sure. As it was, the tingle wasn't even at free perm voltage, thankfully, so a shower was quite manageable, unless you made the mistake of touching one of the pipes. That resulted in a nasty surprise that almost bounced your hand away from the pipe, and left it tingling madly. Time to leave.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p266
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 06, 2019, 02:09:33 PM
This time we were back up in the mountains and they seemed like old friends. I loved the constantly bending roads and the views were stunning. I like riding above the clouds. It felt quite unnatural and was a delightful thing to be able to do whenever the opportunity arose. It's bizarre to be on a bike looking down at clouds, as if you were doing so from an aeroplane. The downside was that it was much colder at this altitude. Birgit said that the temperature and landscape reminded her of Austria. As we approached the market town of Vilcabamba, Henry's exhaust started to make strange noises, I was riding in my favourite position as 'Tail-end Charlie' and I could hear the tone change and wondered what was going on. It sounded nasty. By the time we stopped for a break, Birgit had noticed it too. It wasn't strange that she hadn't heard it earlier because the slipstream carries a lot of noises away with it - particularly those that are created behind you. It was nothing major but the problem would cause a bit of a tease over the following months. Henry's exhaust was rotting and as holes were appearing the bike was becoming noisier. As a temporary repair we cut open a soft drink can and stuck it over the holes with heatproof tape. It worked for a while.   
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p283
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 07, 2019, 02:29:01 PM
For the last few days I'd been suffering with horrendous wind of own. Sometimes it had been quite embarrassing. Once I'd been standing talking to a stranger, trying to understand his Spanish (always harder when crossing into a new country as the accents would change dramatically with each border crossing) and had involuntarily let rip with an enormous blast of methane that equally unhappily smelt as if I'd recently digested a good part of the local sewer system. It was not very gentlemanly... In an enclosed space this was quite a dire happening and I could clear a room in seconds. I wasn't making very many friends and if it was going to continue for much longer then I was probably going to find that Birgit would want a single room! It was time to get myself checked out.
I had amoebas! Foul little beings but at least I hadn't had any vomiting or the squits as a result. Some antibiotics soon had the air smelling fresh again. What had started off as a rather surprised, boyish new talent, rapidly changed to embarrassment and worry, and then to pure relief at its passing.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p296
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 08, 2019, 09:32:03 AM
The cars in front of us started reversing. The air was full of panic and we were quickly swamped by it. There's only just enough room to turn a BMW bike round on these tiny cobbled streets, but that was without the screaming people, and without the clouds of tear gas that were now floating down the street towards us.
A few metres in front of us a local biker fell, and in no time the nearest car had reversed over the bike, thankfully missing the rider. A dark canister sailed lazily through the air trailing a stream of gas behind it. It landed almost unnoticed in the chaos. My eyes by this time were stinging and I wondered if I was going to be able to ride with eyes affected by the gas. This was too bizarre a way to start a new country. Being yelled at by riot police doing spooky gas mask impersonations of 'Darth Vader' didn't help much either. Scare stories? Hmmm maybe this time they were true. Welcome to Colombia!
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p305
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 09, 2019, 09:39:43 AM
We were riding through one of the main road towns at 20 kph - it was slow enough to react to just about anything that might happen. My eyes flitted towards the folks standing to the right of the road- was any one going to step out? A pretty girl in a very short skirt caught my eye for one dangerous moment and when I looked forward again I found Birgit right in front of me with her brake light glowing furiously! I jammed on my brakes and pulled to one side, but I was much too slow. My bash bar and pannier whacked Birgit's right box and bent as they concertined her box and threw her bike over. I couldn't hold mine either so within seconds both bikes were on the ground, engines screaming and petrol flowing.
A crowd collected. Neither of us was hurt and we hadn't hit anyone else. Birgit had had to make a split second swerve in front of me to miss a man who had leapt out in front of her to cross the road - she was relying on the fact that I'd be looking where I was going. The man's vacant look led us to suspect that he wasn't all there mentally. We knew that the three of us had just had a very lucky escape. The crowd helped us pick up the bikes and we slipped out of town before the police could arrive to complicate matters.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  pp327-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 10, 2019, 10:29:03 AM
While we waited, Santos and I got talking- twenty words of English from him, a few more of Spanish from me, and a whole load of sign language from both of us.
"Do you like music?" he asked.
"Yes."
"What sort of music? Do you know any songs?" I'd made a mistake, when I'd answered yes. His face had lit up. "Sing me a song Sam ."
"Ah, er, um, OK... Why not?" I replied feeling that actually I had no choice at all. So, there I was, in the middle of organised chaos, singing. I'd never done that at a border before! Soloist and black-suited audience rocked. The audience grew, and I can't sing! Birgit stood to one side with an, 'I'm not with him' expression on her face. Very wise, but I still think that it was my best ever rendition of The Beatles' 'A Hard Day's Night!'.
Distant Suns  Sam Manicom  p344
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 11, 2019, 10:12:29 AM
It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon. My bike is running great. The scenery is sublime. And I've just reached my destination: The Middle of Nowhere, aka Parts Unknown, etc. I'm utterly lost in virginal territory uncharted in my own mind, totally unfamiliar and devoid of any recognizable landmarks except for the sun's trusty arc across the azure dome above. Ahhhh... I can relax now. Like most arrivals, this one brings with it a sense of accomplishment and relief. I think I'll take a few minutes to congratulate myself at that pull-off by the stream up ahead.
Getting here wasn't easy. I have to go farther and farther afield each time to cross the line into that neighbouring State of Confusion. In order to complete the journey, I have to leave my GPS at home (or at least in the bottom of my tank bag), along with any maps or notes I might be tempted to glance at along the way. I must deliberately shut off my brain the moment I catch myself automatically analyzing my heading: Hmmm... didn't that last turn just change my horizon from north to- DON'T FINISH THAT THOUGHT! And when I'm tempted to wander over and check out some vista or half-noticed signpost I think I might recognize, I have to force my eyes back to the pavement in front of me and spare no glance in that alluring direction. Achieving ignorance requires considerable self-discipline.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  p17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Cerebral Knievel on January 12, 2019, 08:55:07 AM
I came across this while cleaning up this week. It's a great story.Have you read it Biggles ?

 (https://i.ibb.co/VpT0VyP/aroundozin1929.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 12, 2019, 01:17:47 PM
"How'd ya hurt your shoulder? Oh, you wrecked on a motorcycle? Friend of mine had one of them things. Ran underneath a train at 350 mph with his wife and kids on the back. All of 'em burst into flames and died instantly. Killed some people who weren't even there when it happened. They're still finding pieces of that motor scooter all the way across the state line. You'd never catch me on one of them things. Death traps, I tell you! Where'd you crash? On a racetrack? Are you crazy? Foolish thing to do a man your age out racing around on a suicide machine like an irresponsible teenager! Did I tell you a friend of mine had one of them things? Got run over by a Greyhound bus in his own driveway. Broke every bone in his body. Terrible thing! Nurse friend of mine says the same thing happens to somebody in town every eleven minutes. What? You wanna go back again? What are you, some kind of daredevil or just plain stupid? Didn't you learn your lesson? Did I mention a friend of mine had one of them things... ?"
We've all heard the stories. It seems that everyone who hears you ride a motorcycle always knows someone somewhere who had some hair-raising, awful crash that either prevented the person from ever riding again or convinced the rider and all of his or her friends, neighbours, and relatives that motorcycling is the most surefire way to incur every extensive physical injury known to man.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  p29
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 13, 2019, 12:22:25 PM
But the typical anti-motorcyclist's anxieties aren't about risk, damage, and injury; they're about missing out on life. You see, they need to reassure themselves that taking chances always ends in disaster; this is the justification for all of the "safe" conventions they've adopted. Never mind all the lost opportunities for enriching experiences, important discoveries about one's own abilities and limits, or the bonds that form between people who face challenges together- what they want is certainty, safety, and security. As if these really exist.
The only guarantee in life is death. Risk is everywhere, all the time; it is simply a part of life. To spend one's life eradicating risk is to hurry death, not avoid it. People can be dead long before they die. If something can be said about motorcyclists as a group, it's that we understand that security is an illusion. This doesn't mean all things are equally dangerous or that we should arbitrarily disregard potential consequences. And it doesn't mean that we face risks without fear (as an analysis of the aforementioned dinner conversation easily reveals). But it does mean that a respect for danger can allow the pursuit of wondrous and exotic pleasures with a minimum of cost.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  p30
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 14, 2019, 09:08:27 AM
There's no doubt something about the intrepid spirit that compels people to ride motorcycles in the first place that also prompts them to pick up spanners and start pulling things apart. I recall quite vividly a revelation that came to me as a child: whatever had been assembled could also be disassembled. A whole new world opened up to me at that point- a kind of "inner space" where hidden mechanisms hid and produced the results observable from the outside. Sometimes devices even survived my explorations of their innards and lived to work again!
So it was that my first motorcycle received the same treatment that so many things before it had received- I took apart everything that I could with the tools in my possession. The bike was only a few months old when my parents gasped in horror at finding its barely recognisable components scattered across the entire back porch. Eventually I restored it to running condition, though not without replacing the carburettor and tolerating some of my parents' consternation about the assortment of left-over parts. Flash-forward fifteen years to a time when I lived in a second floor apartment and couldn't bear leaving my beloved full-sized sports bike outside for the winter. I took it apart in the parking lot and carried everything up to my spare bedroom, where I carefully cleaned and reassembled everything.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  p60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 15, 2019, 10:26:25 AM
As others nearby notice and call attention to the ailing rider's accumulating absentminded mistakes, a second symptom is likely to emerge: irritability. This can, of course, develop without the criticism of friends, family, and coworkers, but it is much more likely to escalate when those surrounding the rider fail to take an appropriately sympathetic stance. Comments such as "What's the big deal? You'll be back on your little motorcycle in just a few more months," and "Get over it! I'm sick of you moping around here with your helmet on!" can lead to episodic fluctuations between murderous rage and despairing withdrawal. In contrast, carefully executed therapeutic interventions such as "There, there, dear- make yourself comfortable while I call your riding buddies over for another viewing of 'On Any Sunday'" or "Hey, what were we thinking, putting all that money away for retirement? Let's pick out a new bike instead!" can go a long way toward soothing the ill-tempered rider and helping him or her remain calm until circumstances become more favourable for recovering from Garage Fever.
Sometimes, a rider can employ palliative treatments in the form of alternative, motorcycle-like diversions, such as snowmobiling in the winter or Jet-Skiing in the summer. While certainly inferior to the experience of riding motorcycles, these activities allow the tortured rider symptomatic relief.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  p73
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 16, 2019, 09:34:09 AM
If I'm going to go brave the dangers of riding a motorcycle, I want things done properly because my life may depend upon it. And here we catch a glimpse of the irrational, superstitious underpinnings of ritualism. At its deepest level, it is a denial of death.
Stating it in its raw form as I just did might provoke instant rebuttal, but stay with me for another minute. Ritual imposes order where there was chaos. Chaos is dangerous stuff. You never know what's going to happen. Human beings and uncertainty don't mix very well. The combination is volatile and produces anxiety. In small-to-moderate measures, within certain parameters, we call this excitement and deem it good. But genuine and pervasive uncertainty is a horrible thing and must be avoided at all cost.
Life is fundamentally rife with uncertainty and chaos. Your new house might be hit by a tornado. Your spouse could have cancer. A friend may betray you. Did I mention the fact that 'job security' is now an oxymoron for most people? It's true that surprises can be pleasant, too. But, given the choice, most folks opt for certainty even when that certainty is negative. Hope is a risky thing, too, you know.
By eliminating chaos, even on a very limited basis, ritual serves as something of an antidote for life's dangerously chaotic nature. It promotes a sense of power when people feel helpless. It offers the solace of a familiar rhythm when life feels alien and out of sync. And it transports us to a position of immortality by 'bettering our odds', realistically or unrealistically (your own faith- religious or otherwise- will determine where you draw that line).
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  pp105-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 17, 2019, 09:12:21 AM
Inboard of our temporal lobes (about even with the tops of our ears), we have a small, almond-shaped structure called the amygdala (one on each side). When you encounter danger, or even the potential for a very small loss or injury, the amygdala starts sounding alarms. These neurophysiological signals set off a chain of reactions in other parts of the brain and endocrine stem to produce a state of readiness. The resulting fear and/or anger, along with elevated heart fate and other bodily changes, can facilitate actions that might be necessary for our safety. This is the classic 'fight-or-flight' response. Our attention becomes focused very tightly on what seems threatening, and we may become highly reactive. This can have problematic effects, obviously, but in most cases, there's survival value in being 'safe' instead of 'sorry'.
There's also survival value in remembering dangers we manage to live through. So the amygdala simultaneously alerts and strengthens the parts of the brain involved in memory, such as its neighbour, the hippocampus. Ideally, this helps us avoid having to deal with the same problem over and over because we learn from our experience and steer clear of the bear's lair on our next hike. (I won't be taking any more 'shortcuts' through the woods at dusk). But this process can also go too far, such as when a traumatic event yields intrusive memories and uncontrollable reactions to anything with even a hint of resemblance to the original situation. Hence, people with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) can relive their most horrifying moments when some subtle reminder triggers a flood of memories so vivid so as to eclipse their awareness of the immediate present.
So it's really no wonder that we have the clearest memories of those rides that involved genuine and intense fear. Our brains are set up to make it that way.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  p121
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 18, 2019, 11:54:39 AM
As a psychologist working primarily with kids and their families and consulting in school systems in 2000, I have access to a lot more information about today's youth than do most people. I've seen hundreds of them at their best and worst on an intimate, firsthand basis. In my fifteen years of doing this work, I've witnessed a clear trend. Wanna know which direction things are really going?
Occasional local news stories about some child's heroism notwithstanding, things are definitely getting worse. This isn't the ranting of an old fart who can't abide loud music or weird hair. It has nothing to do with teenage fads and fashions, routinely denounced by the previous generation. I'm talking about the increasing number of kids who cannot relate to others in constructive, cooperative ways. This swelling percentage of the population has little or no conscience. The few competencies they possess primarily serve criminal pursuits. They are simultaneously angry and fearful, grandiose and insecure, precocious and infantile- thoroughly unprepared to take responsibility at work or in their communities- and they remain resentfully dependent upon others without gratitude or reciprocity. What autonomy and independence they muster is defiant bravado, unrelated to self-discipline or focused effort toward realistic goals. Chemicals substitute for the soothing and enrichment ideally obtained from meaningful engagement with others. If they're not already, these kids ought to be your worst nightmare; they will, sooner or later, impact your life, either with their malevolence or ineptitude.
Of course, they've always been around. The difference between now and the past is their rapidly increasing numbers. As American family life has grown more fragmented and chaotic (high divorce rates, frequent relocations, and so on) and popular culture has become increasingly escapist, the vital connections between parents and kids have taken a severe beating.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  p154
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 19, 2019, 10:32:07 AM
What I'm trying to point to is the experience of making a quantum leap when something changes our perspective irreversibly. Avatar makes everything that came before it look to me like a sock-puppet show on a cardboard-box stage. And I can't undo that, even if I wanted to. As I pondered this conversion experience on the drive home from the movie theatre, my next association was a memory of climbing onto the pillion of a certain silver KZ650 when I was in high school. A friend of mine had snuck out with his older brother's new motorcycle and swung by my house to share the joy ride. Mischief loves company even more so than misery does, you know. I remember thinking we were going to go fast- a term I thought I knew the meaning of- but what happened next revealed my total ignorance.
My buddy yanked those four carburettor slides out of the way of fresh, wonderfully combustible oxygen, we accelerated right through my understanding of fast in no time flat. During that foray into previously uncharted territory, I felt genuine shock and awe. It was nothing short of surreal. My perceptual field narrowed down to a single element: the sensation of being stretched by a force I couldn't have imagined before that very second and couldn't get my mind around, even then. I had also been reduced to a single element: the will to survive, manifested in my death grip around my friend's waist.
After we'd returned to my house and I'd climbed off this otherworldly machine that had proven itself capable of warping time and space, it took me a while to reorient. The universe was a new place. I transferred everything that had previously thrilled me with a sense of speed to the 'woefully inadequate' column. That meant I was different, too. Now I couldn't be content without the ability to do that again.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  pp172-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 20, 2019, 12:58:31 PM
Whereas normal parallel functioning involves a dialogue between multiple selves, flow is characterised by the absence of divisions and dialogue. There is no observer. There is no body. There are no competing, or even cooperating, selves. All that exists is the activity. There isn't even a distinction between a unified self and the motorcycle, or the motorcycle and the landscape. Everything exists as a whole, with perceptions and actions occurring in a peculiarly effortless harmony. This is what riders often describe as 'being one with the bike', although that's a post hoc assessment. In the moment of this experience, the rider isn't observing and articulating and memorising it; there is no verbal description to log for future reference. The words of conscious thought are bypassed in favour of a more direct and efficient process. It's as though the eyes and hands are linked without the usual detour through the mind, allowing much faster processing. But again, that's not the rider's experience; rather, that's just how he or she describes it afterwards. The actual experience is impossible to capture in words. For a motorcyclist, it's something like ingesting the road through sight and willing movement through space- or, better yet, being movement through space.
The event completely fills the person's awareness. Concentration is complete. Absorption is total. The experience is extremely gratifying, and the person usually looks back on it as one of his or her life's peak moments. The absence of parallel functioning equals the suspension of doubts, questions.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  p199
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 21, 2019, 01:26:35 PM
The interpersonally oriented readers' stories about their peak riding experiences were among the most poignant. We had accounts of fathers taking their sons out for their very first rides, revelling in their boys' ecstatic reactions to the unprecedented visceral thrills of forward thrust and cornering swoop. And people told of close friendships forged in the crucible of motorcycling's trials and travails, whether on cross-country expeditions or in racetrack competitions. There were even readers who chose to get married, reaffirm their vows, or take their honeymoons on two wheels, speaking eloquently of how their love of their spouses and of riding overlapped magically during those momentous trips. Like the peak experiences in other categories, these descriptions tended to be intensely personal and most elaborate.
Overall, the Engagement category tells us something about the way riding can facilitate and enhance human relatedness, and it reflects the high priority placed on the relationship factor by one segment of motorcyclists.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  p218
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 22, 2019, 10:46:06 AM
When I surveyed MCN readers, I never expected that so many would prove to be certifiable mystics! Not that I didn't realise some folks pursued their favourite form of riding with religious zeal, or that riders could reach spectacular levels of ecstasy on their motorcycles, but I just had no idea that such experiences were so prevalent among us or that so many riders could articulate them so eloquently. It's a very hard thing to do, after all, to capture an otherworldly moment in words so that others can begin to understand. It may be a little easier than capturing the raw physical sensations from the previous category, but not much.
The common thread running through most, if not all, of the accounts in this fifth category is the deliberate pursuit of an altered state of consciousness that differs markedly from what's available in 'normal' existence. Sometimes this involves an experience of seamless merger with the motorcycle and scenic surroundings; other times, it has a more active quality, wherein the rider's intentions seem to translate instantaneously into movement.
Why We Ride  Mark Barnes  pp226-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 23, 2019, 10:27:16 AM
With a bike, when you make a mistake it usually hurts, a lot. You therefore learn pretty quickly. I was very fortunate the first time I dumped the clutch on Bob's old Honda. I pretended I could start it and Bob called my bluff. He said, "If you can start it, I'll let you ride it." The pressure was on. I managed to kick-start it, I engaged what I thought might be first gear, dumped the clutch and launched myself down the church driveway towards the main road, barely in control. Once the front wheel hit the ground again I just pulled, pressed, twisted and trod on every available option. The bike came to an abrupt halt, the engine revs hit the sky and with a jolt forward I stalled. I had successfully managed to travel 30 yards and not broken anything, either the bike or me. I was hooked; my passion for riding motorcycles had begun.
God's Biker  Sean Stillman  pp28-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 24, 2019, 09:42:39 AM
So I was feeling isolated and almost second class in terms of my faith experience, but I continued to enjoy band gigs and many miles on the road with my new biker mates. Some of them have remained my closest friends on the planet, well over three decades on. Great friendships are formed on the road. I learned this early on with riding bikes; it's one of motorcycling's attractions.
A chemistry forms between you. It can be freezing cold, with rain beating against your face at 70 miles per hour and the bike only firing on one cylinder, but you've got your mate alongside you. As you pull in at the petrol station, sopping wet, fingers numb, you still find strength within you to keep going; someone will even crack a joke maybe, as pale-faced motorists look on as if you are mad. This kind of relationship doesn't exist in many other circles.
God's Biker  Sean Stillman  p32
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 25, 2019, 10:19:15 AM
Whatever we lacked in formal labelling at this time, we were beginning to function as a unit and that felt cohesive. We started riding as a group, we started thinking as a group. Most of our contact with clubs was at public events, but even in those days clubhouse invitations were coming our way and significant personal friendships had already developed with senior officers in some clubs.
These individual friendships proved crucial in brokering our desire to put up God's Squad colours. While God's Squad in Melbourne had long-established relationships with many clubs there, including some international ones, we had to earn our own right to speak and build our own credibility. Starting an intentional missional move within a subculture such as the motorcycle club scene would be a long process. Unless you want to risk upsetting everyone, which is what some Christian clubs have done, you need to play by the same rules. Becoming accepted to a certain degree before you start formally is par for the course. Putting in the miles, the time and the hard yards is what is expected.
God's Biker  Sean Stillman  pp81-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 29, 2019, 12:07:28 PM
At the bar in the clubhouse, stories will be shared over drinks all night as the rumble of Harleys arriving from far and wide punctuates the conversation. There will be warm embraces, reunions, and in a quiet corner club officers making sure the logistics are in place for giving their brother a respectful send-off the following day. By the time the cortege leaves the following morning, the neighbouring streets will be full of bikers. The coffin is carried on the shoulders of club brothers out to the hearse or other vehicle of choice - a sidecar, a trailer, a truck. In a regimented fashion, the club and guests organise themselves in strict formation and riding order behind the hearse, with the host club at the front. Once the cortege starts rolling, nothing will stop it. This unifying act of respect processes through town to the burial site. Different clubs have different traditions, the coffin sometimes being passed along giving each person an opportunity to share in carrying it. At the conclusion of a ceremony that may or may not involve religious content, once the coffin is placed in the ground the club brothers usually take shovels and fill the grave themselves.
God's Biker  Sean Stillman  pp91-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 30, 2019, 09:46:23 AM
While on the surface there may be a hundred and one reasons to divide us, the shared vision and active ministry on the road, and on the margins, is the cohesion that bonds us together. It's a journey of ongoing discipleship with a commitment to Christ and his call that will not be diluted. Our members include clergymen, high-flying businessmen and academics. We have surgeons, aircraft engineers, and also those who struggle to hold down a job on minimum wage. Some love a whisky and a cigar, others are teetotal, some are covered in tattoos and piercings, others can't see the point of getting ink. The Eastern Europeans and Scandinavians will be comfortable to sit naked in a clubhouse sauna together, while the Aussies are petrified at the thought! Diversity in culture and life experience is a wonderful thing when the foundations are clearly defined and are able to support such a glorious mix. Each person comes into the club with different things to learn; that's why the process is a long one. Each member knows that by the time they are granted their colours, their calling has been tested, their motives quizzed and their commitment verified.
God's Biker  Sean Stillman  p127
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 31, 2019, 09:50:50 AM
It was to be a relatively straightforward visit. We had contacts in Ukraine who wanted to explore the process for starting a chapter of God's Squad. I was to spend some time with all those interested, ride with them to a motorcycle event, get a feel for how they interacted with the clubs and also engage the clubs there in some early dialogue. Bearing in mind I speak no Ukrainian or Russian, I had to rely completely on Pasha's basic English for translation.
The bike show went well and I was received warmly as the first ever overseas visitor to the event. I was invited to present the winners' trophies and speak about God's Squad's mission. It was a real throwback to the 1970s for me to see so many radical back-yard modified bikes with extreme handlebars and kicked-out front wheels. The bike culture was alive and well in Ukraine, but it felt like a different decade in respect of engineering!
God's Biker  Sean Stillman  p168
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 01, 2019, 11:25:26 AM
In the years I have entrusted my soul to the motorcycling gods, I have learned a bit. I have learned that I am powerless over my need to ride. It is beyond desire. Its not a love/hate relationship, as many relationships turn out. It is a love/love relationship. The cost is my hard earned money for gas, tires, and oil. That's a fair price for an experience that feeds my soul, a humble tithing to the motorcycle gods.
Who else benefits from this most self-loving activity? All those I come into contact with. I am more in love with the world and life; I have passion and joy to truly share. I have also learned that bikes don't like neglect. They don't need to be pretty, but they do need to be maintained. Ironically, I have applied this lesson to maintain my body and soul as well. I doubt I would have quit my intolerably toxic job if the bike hadn't taught me I could be so much happier. I realised I didn't have to settle for mediocre survival; I could thrive and feel joy beyond words. At mid-life there were still challenges I could spend a lifetime pursuing. I became childlike in spirit again and realised how jaded and cynical I had become. The bike became the light that shone through the darkness of this tough, old world.
Motorcycle Meanderings  Johnny Winterer  p15
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 02, 2019, 09:53:32 AM
For all its glorious technology, BMW cannot seem to make a "saddle" that feels good. Sure, make a motor that can last forever; I once met a guy who had 850,000 miles on his 1978 R100RS with only two top end rebuilds. Sure, make a bike that loves to go all day and purrs like a sewing machine. But is it that hard to make a seat that fits my ass and feels good? If I am going to ride eight hours, I can only do so if my derriere is comfortable. But no, after two hours, this dull ache becomes a searing tortuous pain all through my spine. This physical pain soon can become mental suffering.
Because I love motorcycling around everywhere and salivate at the idea of a week-long trip for thousands of miles, I am my own Grand Inquisitor. Who needs medieval torture instruments when we have BMW making seats?
Motorcycle Meanderings  Johnny Winterer  p31
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 03, 2019, 02:00:46 PM
When Han Solo yells at C3PO, "Never tell me the odds!" while entering an asteroid field in The Empire Strikes Back, I relate. There are some people out there that fret like the Star Wars robot. God Bless them. They are annoying. I don't like telling anyone anymore that I ride motorbikes, for fear that they will spew off a diatribe of safely bullshit, warning me about how dangerous it is. Like I don't already know. "Hi, I ride a motorbike and therefore I must be a dumbass, who doesn't possibly know what is at stake."
Ironically I ride partly because I do know what is at stake and know its incredible value. Not only do these well-intending people tell me some horror story about someone they knew six degrees to Kevin Bacon that died or got maimed while riding, they must also look at me like I'm ignorant and judge my passion as pathological, a "phase" I will "grow out of", like a pubescent teen trying out face piercings. It must be a "mid-life crisis" or an addiction. The warning is born of care and love, but reeks of condescension and self-righteousness.
Motorcycle Meanderings  Johnny Winterer  p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 04, 2019, 03:04:22 PM
They are my role models like my dad. My pops is eighty-one and still skiing. So here we are at Bonneville, and that movie with Anthony Hopkins playing Burt Munro in The World's Fastest Indian, is very accurate to what I am seeing. Most men out at the BUB Motorcycle Speed Trials are well into the white salt-and-pepper stage, reaching for the blue horizon. They have that glint in their eyes, much like I would imagine Burt Munro. These are living mythological beings who are trying their damnedest to fly on two wheels.
And it warms my hackles to see so many women out there as well, but that is for another essay. I will just say whoever has the benefit of knowing, dating, and marrying one of these women is so damn lucky.
Motorcycle Meanderings  Johnny Winterer  p64
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 05, 2019, 09:54:53 AM
Like old-fashion cavalry brigades, outlaw motorcycle packs were followed by baggage trains, which were made up of pickup trucks, panel trucks, and cars with trailers. While it was mandatory that you show up for a run, it was not mandatory that you show up on a motorcycle. You just had to get there. Bikes got wrecked, or were impounded by the police. Brothers had just gotten out of jail, others were in casts.
The old '60s outlaws would do almost anything for a brother, but hauling one around on the backseat of his machine was not one of them. So the grounded brothers were condemned to ride in the baggage train with tools, stray women, citizen hangers-on, and the weekend supply of beer. If a grounded brother could not ride, he could at least get drunk.
Riding On The Edge  John Hall  p29
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 06, 2019, 11:14:49 AM
The Triumph, or "Trumpet" as it was called, and the Beeser started in all weather, and the front ends were the best ever made. You could even ride them on snow and ice, just put your feet down and glide along slow. If the rear wheel went sideways, you caught your balance with your feet and straightened the bike out. Try this with a Hog, and you broke your leg. But best of all, the Triumph and BSA were also designed for British roads, which, back in the mid-twentieth century, for all intents and purposes, were the same as off-road. If a cop was chasing you down the back roads of Berks County, you could take off through a cornfield. You could never get away with that on a Hog.
I rode through the winter. And I froze. On weekends my Triumph was the only bike parked outside the Gaslight East on Hempstead Turnpike. In the summer the place was a motorcycle hangout with 50 bikes lined up in the street, but in the winter these guys travelled by car. They weren't outlaws.
Riding On The Edge  John Hall  pp42-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 07, 2019, 10:37:53 AM
It was a pleasant summer afternoon. We stopped at a clam bar for beer and steamers. By the time I got there I had half a buzz on, but so did everyone else. We raced our bikes through the dunes and brush, wiped out, and fell down and slid through the sand. It was a lot of fun. Then we built a fire and got good and drunk and screwed in the dunes 'till the sun came up.
Unfortunately, I wasn't running an air filter on my carburettor. I only had a single barrel, so I was sucking straight air in order to make the thing run faster. Sand had gotten sucked right into the combustion chamber. The rings froze, and the engine died. I ripped the head off, and the walls were scored. I fought with a machinist to get it bored overnight. Then I got oversized pistons at Ghost Motorcycle in Port Washington, and by Friday afternoon I was trying to stick the thing back together by myself, when I realised I needed help.
Riding On The Edge  John Hall  pp109-10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 08, 2019, 09:22:18 AM
It was getting dark and, as I went down a road shaded with trees, I flicked on the lights. Immediately the engine started breaking up. It sounded like a short in the wiring harness. I turned off the lights and engine purred just fine. Then I turned on the lights again and the engine started to sputter. Now I knew that's what it was.
It would be dark in a matter of minutes. There was no way in hell that I was going to find a gas station on Sunday night out in the sticks with a mechanic on duty who could find the short. And there was no way that I could find it by myself on the side of the road in the dark. The best I could hope for was a gas station with some kid pumping gas who would be scared shitless when I pulled up and more than glad to let me use the shop.
But I didn't even see a gas station that was open. By the time I hit Route 30, it was a pitch black country night, and there was nobody on the road. But then an idea came to me. Richie from the Chicago Outlaws once told me that 90 percent of the people who get killed on a motorcycle get hit from behind by idiots, so all you have to do is keep way ahead of the flow of traffic. I could see the road ahead in the dark. So the trick was to just turn the lights off, crank it up, make sure that nobody's lights came up behind me, and then try to avoid cops for the next two hours and I'd be roaring up Mount Penn and home, scot-free.
Riding On The Edge  John Hall  p127
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 09, 2019, 04:33:46 PM
The day-to-day realities of being an outlaw motorcyclist in California are not easily transplantable. Bikes are a sunshine thing; they are dangerous and uncomfortable in rain and snow.  — Hunter S. Thompson

No shit, Hunter.
In the Appalachian Mountains of Pennsylvania, the temperatures drop to 20 below in January and February. Sometimes it doesn't go above zero for weeks at a time. Then the last week in February, or the first week in March, the sun comes out and the temperature goes up to 50 for a couple of days. The wiseacres start to say, "Spring is here." Then the sun goes away, and a cold rain falls every day, sometimes until between Memorial Day and Fourth of July. Even in the summer, you never go anywhere without your leather jacket, a pair of gloves, and a flannel shirt, and at any time you can be caught under a bridge, waiting out a storm. September and October are gorgeous- nothing but sunshine, clear blue skies, and gold and red autumn foliage. But even then, the temperatures seem to drop 20 degrees as soon as the shadows of the mountains fall across the roads in the twilight. Then comes Halloween; the leaves are gone and the snowflakes again begin to fly.
In other words, you have to be nuts to own a motorcycle in Pennsylvania.
Riding On The Edge  John Hall  p219
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 10, 2019, 12:41:41 PM
By the next morning he would be ready. In the meantime, we later heard, he had called the Kuhn Funeral Home in West Reading and terrorised the undertaker by telling him that he had heard from reliable sources that the Pagans and Heathens were on their way down to hijack the body of Robert Rayel so they could give him a decent outlaw funeral. He then suggested that they might be deterred by a couple of plain-clothes cops posing as funeral directors. The undertaker immediately agreed and even offered to loan them suits that he kept on hand for the stiffs if they needed them.
Now any idiot knows that if you want to deter people, you send uniformed policemen, not plain-clothes cops. This was obviously a surveillance operation, with probably the whole barracks standing by in case we showed up at the funeral. It's not that Harley Smith thought that we were stupid, he knew better than that. But he also knew that we were the most arrogant bastards that he had ever seen in the Berks County underworld. And walking through the front door of a funeral parlour as the head of the entire club, all decked out in swastikas and colours while the cops were running all over the county with warrants for our arrest, was just the sort of stunt that Chuck, or any old-time '60s outlaw for that matter, would have loved to pull. All publicity, but no payoff.
Riding On The Edge  John Hall  p244
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 11, 2019, 02:01:01 PM
But after I re-read mine, I yelled, "Hold it! Pick that back up and read it."
It said: "Clyde Beatty Cole Bros. Circus."
The next morning we were at the fairgrounds, by six o'clock. It was already hot and humid. We stashed our colours in Blackie's saddlebags and walked up to the site just wearing Levi's and t-shirts. They soon had us unloading poles and canvas from flatbed trailers. Then we had to unroll the canvas and stretch the canvas over the tent poles. As members of the Pagans Motorcycle Club, no matter what the situation, we had to be tougher than everyone else. This meant that while other people sweated and complained about the heat and humidity, we just spat and worked harder. The foreman picked up on this and kept telling us that he could find a spot in the truck and a spare bunk if we wanted to stay with the circus for a while. Blackie was game until I reminded him that we weren't supposed to leave the county yet.
Riding On The Edge  John Hall  p259
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 12, 2019, 09:46:27 AM
At a time when many outlaws were learning the importance of playing by the rules- which is to say cleaning up, washing your hair, and leaving the leather and chains at home when they went to court- and at least one big outlaw club was forbidding its members from wearing swastikas in an effort to clean up its public image- Chuck Ginder refused to be intimidated by any of this and decided to take his club out as the last true outlaws.
He told us that putting on citizen clothes and playing by their rules was a sign of submission, and that was not what outlaws were all about. When the trial opened, he marched his club into the courtroom, decked out in chrome chains, black leather jackets, beards, earrings, long hair, and swastikas. And there he stood glaring at the judge and jury, defying them to convict him.
Again, this is what the old outlaws meant by "true class". As I pointed out earlier, the Mennonite martyr Simon de Kramer was executed in the Netherlands when he refused to bend his knee and genuflect before a Spanish bishop who, in a lavish display of piety, was carrying a consecrated host through the marketplace in Bergen op Zoom. Whether we look at Simon swinging on the gallows for refusing to genuflect in the Netherlands, Lucifer getting cast into Hell for refusing to kneel before the throne of God in Heaven, or Skip, Chuck, and the whole crew getting carted off to jail for refusing to kowtow before judge and jury in Berks County, Pennsylvania, it is all the same colossal chutzpah that makes real outlaws what they are.
Riding On The Edge  John Hall  pp278-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 13, 2019, 04:22:40 PM
Now the Honda CT110, or postie bike as it's known in Australia due to its use by the Australian Postal Service, isn't like any other motorbike. It's a step-through affair with a kick start and no clutch. I'd never kick started a bike in my life and had no idea how to do it. As I was sitting in the saddle attempting to press a non-existent electric starter button, John Peterson walked past.
I called out to him, "How do you start this thing?" He came over and motioned for me to get off the bike.
"Okay, first you need to turn on the choke, then pull out the kick start lever and - he jumped down on it - "use your heel to kick straight down on the lever."
It started first time.
"Oh, right," I responded, not feeling the least bit confident about my chances of starting it so easily. I turned everything off and back on again and attempted to do the same thing. Nothing.
Try again, he said.
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  p5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 14, 2019, 10:41:48 AM
The wildlife is harder to spot. Emus were the same colour as shrubs, kangaroos blended into the long, straw-like grasses and cows looked like boulders from a distance. As I was cruising along, breathing in the colourful vista around me, I became aware of a large shape on the horizon. It was a road train. As it got closer, I thought it would pull off the road so I didn't have to, but it didn't. Suddenly, I realised that if I didn't pull off, I would be flattened. I swung Rosie onto the gravel shoulder as the beast thundered by. That snapped me out of my reverie and taught me a lesson I'd need to remember - road trains stop for no one.
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  pp39-40
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 15, 2019, 09:17:34 AM
I could hardly eat my food, my hands were so weak. Hand Mike (a physiotherapist who specialised in hand and arm injuries) advised me I'd got "arm pump", a build-up of lactic acid in my forearms. I'd also badly strained the ring-finger of each hand, and the rest of my fingers were so cramped from gripping too tightly that I couldn't straighten them out again. They were injuries that would plague the rest of my trip.
I really struggled to keep my emotions in check during dinner, and when I discovered that the two riders I'd seen at the side of the road had been air-lifted out by the Royal Flying Doctor Service to a hospital in Mount Isa, 700 km away, it shook me up even more. Ian, the New Zealander I'd been talking to at Nindigully, had a head injury and was badly concussed. Hugh, a man I hadn't met, had broken his collar bone and bruised his kidneys.
I was so worn out by the time I finished dinner that I went straight to bed, having seen nothing of the town I'd come to see. I had no idea how I was going to survive the next few days, if the roads continued to be this bad.
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  p50
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 18, 2019, 09:12:25 AM
Further on again, Dentist Steve was sitting at the edge of the road. I stopped. "Are you okay?" I called out to him.
"Yes, I just stopped to refuel and discovered I'd lost my jerry can and everything in my milk-crate. It must have fallen out when we went into that sand pit. I'm just hoping someone's picked it up." I waited with him, and a few others pulled over to see what had happened. As we all gathered by the roadside, a couple in a four-wheel-drive pulled up and asked us what we were doing.
"We're doing the Postie Bike Challenge," said one of the guys and explained a bit about it.
"Are you doing it for charity?" said the lady.
"Well, sort of. The bikes will be donated to the Rotary Club at the end, who will auction them to raise funds."
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  p78
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 19, 2019, 11:34:33 AM
I took a few photos, hugged a few people and emptied Rosie's milk crate for the final time. I removed Hamish, my mascot, from Rosie's forks, gathered my running sheets, key ring and clothing and made my way to the hotel.
Was it really over?
My room overlooked the park and I could see the last of the postie bikes being loaded onto trailers and utes outside. I sat down, put my head in my hands and cried. It had been the best ten days of my life and I was so sad it had come to an end. I had never done anything quite like it before. Never had I been with such a great group of people. Often, where groups of people are involved, there will be at least one who gets on your nerves, but I couldn't say that about any of the postie bikers. They were all wonderful people and, for the first time in my life, I felt I'd truly fitted in.
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  p93
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 20, 2019, 09:24:31 AM
Inside the roadhouse we got chatting. The boys were on their annual two-week ride together and were on their way to Alice Springs. "Did you see that plane flying over?" one of them asked.
"Yes. What was that all about?
"Cops."
"Cops?" I queried.
"Yeah, doing speed checks."
"Really? Oh well, I've got nothing to worry about, then."
They looked at me, puzzled. "Is that a 500 you're on?" one of them asked.
"Ha, no, it's a 125," I replied.
"What? Are you going to Alice Springs on a 125?"
"Not just Alice Springs. Across the Nullarbor and then up to Darwin."
"You're mad!" he exclaimed. "I like you already."
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  p123
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 21, 2019, 11:56:43 AM
On the road, without all my usual activities to distract me, I'd started to feel my need for love again. I would drift into fantasies about what it would be like to have a boyfriend once more, and I hoped I would meet someone on this trip.
That night a guy on a Harley-Davidson arrived at the roadhouse. I was in the bar having dinner when I saw him pull up at the petrol pumps outside. My heart jumped as I thought of the possible romance we could have. But it wasn't to be. He checked into one of the cabins in the campsite and that was the last I saw of him.
I heard him leave, though. At 5 a.m., before the sun had even started rising, he fired up his Harley and woke the entire campsite with the sound of his Screaming Eagle exhaust pipes. Clearly he wouldn't have been a suitable match for me - I don't like noisy bikes.
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  p139
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 22, 2019, 08:51:30 AM
Crosswinds are all right if they're steady, as you bank the bike over into them. But if they're gusting it becomes really dangerous, as you never know when the gust will hit and how long it will last. If you're banked over when the wind stops blowing and don't bring the bike right again quickly enough, you can end up ploughing into the tarmac.
If you've got enough weight or power, you stand a better chance of blasting through it, but even with my luggage, Ruby was not a heavy bike and didn't have the engine capacity to bulldoze the gusts, so I was getting slammed across the carriageway. I couldn't hold her steady and the thought of having to do this all the way to Ceduna scared the hell out of me. After about a kilometre I realised I would probably die if I continued. I did a U-turn and went back to the junction with the Lincoln Highway, where I headed south, thus regaining the tailwind.
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  pp175-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 23, 2019, 09:44:56 AM
In this case, I'd seen the green line of the Mitchell Freeway leaving Perth northwards and another red line (indicating a highway) beyond it, but I hadn't noticed that the two lines didn't meet. When I got to the end of the Mitchell Freeway, it just petered out and led to an intersection in the middle of a housing estate. Now who builds a freeway that ends up in the middle of a housing estate?
I didn't know which way to go. I caught sight of a petrol station to my left and aimed for that. I pulled out my map, which indicated that the red line went through Wanneroo, slightly to the south-east. As this was roughly the direction I needed to go, I turned back onto the road I'd just left, but in the opposite direction, and followed it east. A few left turns later I got to a big intersection which offered access to the Great Northern and Brand highways straight ahead, or another minor road to my left.
I panicked. Which way should I go? Then, just as all the traffic started to move forward, I saw a mileage sign down the minor road with what looked like "Lancelin" listed in the destinations. In a split second I threw my weight to the left and Ruby veered onto the Indian Ocean Drive. We'd found it.
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  pp221-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on February 23, 2019, 12:18:57 PM
Quote
When I got to the end of the Mitchell Freeway, it just petered out and led to an intersection in the middle of a housing estate.

Quote
I caught sight of a petrol station to my left and aimed for that

Not quite a housing estate, accross the road from that point was actually bush (now the freeway continues, but about 5 ks later terminates again)

The road is Burns beach road, turn right and you wind up at Wanneroo rd, turn left for Lancellin. Turn left towards the Petrol station (BP) continue through a roundabout, turn right at Marmion Ave and keep going. You will end up on Indian Ocean drive.

I live in that area.  :)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 24, 2019, 01:23:42 PM
I packed up Ruby for the second time and was back at Northwest Honda for 8.30 a.m. This time the mechanic was there. Ruby was wearing out, too. As well as needing her 8,000 km service, a new chain and a new rear wheel, she'd been having these mysterious coughing fits. I told the mechanic about them and said that the guy at the campsite had thought it was due to the fuel overheating.
"Oh, I doubt that," the mechanic responded. "It's more likely to be something in the fuel lines. I'll flush the carbs out just to make sure."
Three hours and $704 later (thank God for credit cards), we were ready to go - carbs duly flushed. Apparently there had been a bit of grit in the carbs, which could have caused the coughing. Apart from this, the mechanic hadn't been able to identify anything seriously wrong with her.
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  p252
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 25, 2019, 09:21:22 AM
At one point I could feel myself starting to fail asleep. I pulled into a lay-by and lay down on the ground beside Ruby. Within seconds I was unconscious. I think I could have died in that moment. I don't know how long I'd been like that - it could have been seconds, it could have been minutes - but I was startled awake by the vibration of my phone going off in my shirt pocket.
It was 007 Michael, replying to a message I'd sent him a few days before. It probably saved my life. I'm not sure I'd have come round again if it hadn't been for that message. I later found out that Michael had actually sent the message two days before, but it had only reached me as I lay there, dead to the world. It was as if the universe was shaking me awake and telling me to keep going.
I staggered to my feet, drank half my bottle of Hydralyte and got back on the road.
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  p273
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 26, 2019, 01:17:15 PM
We reminisced about the Postie Bike Challenge. After pouring me a huge glass of wine, Phil said, "So, tell us about your trip." I told them where I'd been and shared some of the highlights.
"And what are you going to do with Ruby, now it's over?"
"Well, the dealer in Adelaide said he'd give me the number of the Honda dealer here. I need to phone him on Monday. Because I couldn't register her in my name, he said he'd explain this to the dealer here and see if he could get him to buy her off me."
"How much do you want for her?" Phil asked.
"If I got $1,000 I'd be happy," I replied. Then, sensing there was something more behind this question than polite curiosity, I added, "Why? Are you interested?"
"Yes, I am."
"Really?"
"Yes. After the Postie Bike Challenge I'd been thinking I would like another bike, but I hadn't got round to doing anything about it. Ruby would be just the thing."
"Oh my God, that would be great." I couldn't believe my luck.
Slow Rider  Jill Maden  pp288-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 27, 2019, 09:44:57 AM
Set in Sri Lanka, 2002
So I rented a motorcycle.
I'm normally a rice-rocket kind of guy, but this is not the place for a low-slung and high-tech piece of equipment. I'll be driving on dirt roads more often than not, across rice fields, perhaps. If there are gunshots and no road, I might have to make a creative exit. I need something all-terrain, so I find a small dirt bike, a little Honda 250 trail bike that will get me across ditches, through streams, and over the potholes that, along with bomb craters, broken glass, rubble, and rebar, that make up the ground plane of most war theatres.
Tea Time With Terrorists  Mark Meadows  p154
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 28, 2019, 11:38:55 AM
Karma is everywhere in Sri Lanka. It is a concept held dear by both Buddhists and Hindus. There's also this concept of dharma, which is a righteous path, a holy direction, and can be interpreted to mean "that which keeps us going" or "that which supports us in our journey".
My dharma is, as I mentioned, rented. It's a Honda XLR 250R Baja trail bike. It's a single-cylinder four-stroke with a little chain drive that I can flip fast through its six gears. Hopping fast over the bumps, the thing weighs only about one hundred kilograms, and if I'm feeling punk (and nobody's watching) I can pull a short wheelie on it. It claims to be air cooled, but I don't understand how that can possibly be a functioning feature here in this hot weather.
I love my hot dharma.
Pulling over, I slow it down, put my left foot on asphalt and feel the twenty-eight-horsepower engine letting heat off near my left calf. Swinging my other leg over the seat, I pull off my bandanna and stop to take a look around as my flesh gradually reattaches itself to my bones.
Tea Time With Terrorists  Mark Meadows  p169
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on February 28, 2019, 02:36:17 PM
My karma ran over your dogma.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 01, 2019, 09:27:23 AM
A couple of hours north of Kandy, outside a green and small town named Matale, I pull the bike off the highway, feeling mildly rattled, and park next to a guy dressed in a plaid shirt, probably made in Chennai. He's selling little Mickey Mouse dolls, manga comics, fluffy blue Care Bears, stuffed Teletubbies, and cans of Coca-Cola. Behind him a stone staircase stretches up the hill to the temple of Aluvihara, tucked up in the clouds. Aluvihara, part of the island's tourist track, is about smack in the middle of the country.
My ass is vibrating, my face is covered in dead bugs, my teeth are shaken loose from their normal arrangement, and my forehead feels like it's been under a blowtorch. I'm exhausted. All part of the high-speed happiness of a two-stroke on a sunny day. My back aches and my arms are heavy, but I'm feeling fine.
Tea Time With Terrorists  Mark Meadows  p182   I know- it's a 4 stroke. He's a journalist, not a biker.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 02, 2019, 09:09:04 PM
Staring at my own map at the gas station several hundred miles up the road, I'm certain, absolutely certain, as certain as The English Woman, that I do not want to get lost. I'm at the front door of the war theatre.
Since maps and motorcycles mix like convertibles and cocaine, I've been using my compass. It gets me where I need to go, since there aren't many roads. My strategy has been to glance down every so often to make e sure I'm still headed north. It's easier than pulling over, and it spares me the indignity of crashing into a tree trunk with a big piece of paper covering my face. The specific road doesn't matter, as long as it goes north.
Tea Time With Terrorists  Mark Meadows  p195
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 03, 2019, 01:22:57 PM
The asphalt, when it is unbroken, is fine and operational, but there is no real shoulder at the edges of the road as much as there is a dissolution of the asphalt into a collection of unstable stones scattered on top of sand.
None of this would be a problem were it not for the trucks. The road is wide enough for a single vehicle, but the potholes occasionally constrict the drivable space down to a couple of meters. Of course, when there is little space there is also, by some cosmic and persistent coincidence, a truck coming in the opposite direction. These lorry drivers neither give way nor slow down. Instead, they shove the pedal to the floor, point the grill of their truck directly at my throat, honk a final death threat as they do it, and edge their huge rig onto my side of what little road there is to see if they can separate me from my motorcycle.
Tea Time With Terrorists  Mark Meadows  p198
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 04, 2019, 02:00:26 PM
I desperately throw the bike onto the crumbly half-shoulder area, the front wheel skidding madly in loose sand, pebbles spraying from the truck, spackling my forehead. My eyes squint, and my brain folds itself into a prayer. I grit my teeth and hope that if I fall, it will be away from the truck's tire, that my skull will not land under the wheel. Rocks scatter underneath my tires and the bike lurches into sand with a sickening twist, then pops back up toward the truck, which, in this brief tenth of a second, is nearly past me. I imagine a spray of gas and steel and coolant and bone shards.
Then, somehow, we manage to miss, though I have no idea how (my eyes are still tightly closed). I feel the rear bumper shaving the hair off the knuckles of my right hand because, all the while, we are driving on the side of the road opposite to what I am used to. I open my eyes and soar over a pothole. God, why can't I slow down?
The Doppler effect of the horn and engine leaves me giddy, and here comes another, up ahead.
Tea Time With Terrorists  Mark Meadows  p199
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 05, 2019, 02:45:10 PM
The river isn't moving too fast and it's got texture to it, so it shouldn't be too deep. I ease forward and drive the bike into the river slowly, steadily pushing forward as the wheel spins the water into the fender's underside. I've got my chin in the air and the water level is now up to the pegs, so I lift my feet a bit and I'm only a third of the way across. There are two boys on the other side, watching me. I think I can push or drag this bike out of the sludge if it gets bogged. The water's now near the motor. The back tire wobbles on a rock and almost causes me to fall, and the movement forces my toes back onto the bike pegs and the water's right at the motor level, up to my knees, and I stand up a bit to keep my ass out of it all, then gas it hard, as I'm halfway, and the water covers the casing and is spraying out either side like some kind of magic water plow but I'm out on the dry bank now and my boots are full of muck so I stop and rev the motor a few times, looking back, exhaust pipes steaming. The bike burps a few times and I rev the engine again. I am not at all clear on how I made it but I feel great. A motorcycle should be required driving for everyone in the world.
Tea Time With Terrorists  Mark Meadows  p269
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 06, 2019, 12:37:24 PM
EWAN: I love riding motorcycles. It can be raining, even snowing, I don't care. There's no feeling quite like it in the world. I've said it before: the beauty of the trip is the bike, sweeping into bends, banking the thing knowing it's planted, no matter the road conditions. Riding along there's so much time to reflect, which is a rare thing in these days of modern living. I realised that though John O'Groats might have been a throwaway comment initially, it was in fact the perfect place to start. A couple of days in beautiful, barren Scotland - I haven't lived here for years and I don't get to ride these roads very often - was good for the soul. I was relaxed; the Belstaff rally suit was light, comfortable and, most important, waterproof. I was in my element.
Ten miles into the journey, however, I realised I'd forgotten to recalibrate the GPS, which, when you think about it, is a 'page one' thing to do. Stupid - I
wanted to know exactly how many miles I'd covered when we rode into Cape Town and here I was with my GPS not reading the distance correctly.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p33
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 07, 2019, 11:48:46 AM
EWAN: I'd seen quite a few cars on the motorway; one classic Alfa in particular and a really memorable VW Karman Ghia. I'd left the campsite with Madame Butterfly playing on the iPod and I was really feeling like riding. It was a happy Saturday, the sun shining, the roads good, and it felt fantastic to be part of the brotherhood that is motorcycling. There were so many bikes on the road and everyone acknowledged everyone else and you just knew if you broke down someone would stop. The ride to Siena was brilliant: great tarmac, enough traffic to keep you interested, I was in terrific spirits.
We got there around lunchtime; a wonderful city with the sun falling on wide streets and ancient buildings. Everywhere I looked there were classic cars.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p62
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 08, 2019, 12:15:05 PM
EWAN: I must have slept because I woke up. The first sound I heard was the wind, my first thought the fact that we had 420 miles to cover today. My face ached, eyes itchy and bleary. Everything was coated in sand - tent, sleeping bag, every stitch of clothing.
We got going by eight, heading for Tobruk - a name that conjured images of war and war movies. We hoped to be there by about six or seven in the evening, but in this wind and with sand drifting on to the asphalt I wondered. In a way, though, I was exhilarated, looking forward to the challenge in the same way that I'd kind of enjoyed last night, lying in the tent, desperately trying to stop it blowing away with the wind screaming and sand flying, knowing the one thing I needed was sleep if I was going to cope with today.
And what a day it turned out to be: hour after hour and the land didn't alter; bleak to the point of depressing. Police checkpoints, military, always following the white van driven by Nuri and the man from the secret service. I was filthy, my stuff was filthy, sand everywhere. It's funny how when you start out on a trip everything is meticulous, the way you pack your gear, tent, your clothes. After a few weeks everything was just stuffed into the bags whether it was dirty or not.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p107
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 09, 2019, 08:33:06 PM
EWAN: Moments later we were moving up to a chequered barrier and the pyramids were right ahead of us and not quite as deep in the town as I'd thought. The road was wide and dusty; it snaked a few hundred yards to where the massive stone structures dominated the skyline. As I passed his truck, Ramy, our fixer, was standing there in his Indiana Jones hat.
"All yours," he called. Initially I didn't understand what he meant. Then I realised - the area was closed off for the evening, and we were the only visitors. I couldn't believe it. Not only had I ridden my bike to the pyramids, now we had them to ourselves. Two colossal structures, they lifted from the desert with Cairo on one side and an ancient expanse of nothingness on the other. I was speechless, standing on the foot-pegs as if in homage.
As I rode further the third one came into view. It was breathtaking. I still couldn't believe we were there on our own and as Charley pulled up I just thought how inordinately lucky we were. I looked down at the tiny video screen on my bike which I tells me what I'm filming and there was Charley Boorman and behind him a  pyramid!
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p128
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 10, 2019, 12:56:13 PM
Each health worker was not only a trained medical professional - they were up on bike maintenance as well. They had to be: this was the Masai Mara and not the Old Kent Road; there was no AA man at the end of a phone. Every morning before setting off for the day the riders do what my man called PLANS, which was a basic bike check: Petrol, Lubrication, Adjustments, Nuts and bolts. The S was for Stop, i.e. the brakes and tyres. They had fuel facilities on site and made sure they had enough in the bikes for that day; they oiled and greased working parts like the gear shifter and back brake pedal; they checked engine and gearbox oil. They tested front and rear brakes and meticulously scoured the tyres for cuts and nicks. More than once a health worker had ridden past a herd of elephants or a pride of lions only to get a puncture. They carried tyre levers, inner tubes and repair kits and I could only imagine the speed you'd fix that puncture knowing a pride of lions was watching you. Each morning they'd check the chain for movement - a maximum of 20 mm play was the marker. They checked nuts and bolts because they worked loose almost every day given the harsh country these bikes were ridden through.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  pp145-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 11, 2019, 03:29:48 PM
CHARLEY: "Right." He was checking the bike. "My least comfortable surface, Charley. The only sand I remember is the beach in Wales when the police chased us off."
"Remember what I told you: lean back on the pegs, dump the clutch and use the throttle. Look ahead as far as you can and if you get in trouble throttle your way out. If you come to deeper sand then lean back a little more. Oh, and avoid the tyre tracks. Always go virgin; once you get in the wheel ruts you'll be stuck. Cut across them to get to the smoother stuff."
I really felt for Ewan. To put things in their proper perspective, I'd trained for a year before I did the Dakar. Ewan doesn't even ride off-road for a hobby; he just overcomes his fears and gets on with it. If he falls off he gets back on again. Sand is different from any other surface, really hard to judge and you either love it or hate it. Ewan hates it, but hats off to him because he was in the saddle and sliding the back end all the way to the hard stuff.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p160
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 12, 2019, 11:34:41 AM
CHARLEY: A rock had smashed the sensor that tells the bike when the side stand is down. It's a safety device and as soon as you engage a gear the bike stops. With the sensor smashed the computer thought the stand was down.
The bike would start in neutral but if Ewan stepped on the gear lever it died. We looked over the assembly trying to see if there was a connection we could undo, tracing cable up towards the engine until we found one.
Ewan uncoupled it and tried the bike; it started fine but again died as soon as he put it in gear. We were in a bit of a spot; neither of us sure what to do. There was no shade here and it was blistering.
We went back to Steve. He was at work now with another GS1200 in front of him and was trying to figure out why it wouldn't work. Meanwhile we were at the side of the road in Sudan. Crazy, really; as mad as Russ calling the RAC from Libya. While Steve was mulling it over I suggested to Ewan that maybe the brown wire was an earth and it was only the red and white we needed to twist. He was up for giving that a go but I was worried we might short the computer or something. We waited for Steve to call back and when he did he told us to twist just the red and white wires together. It used to be all three, he said but now the brown was only there to earth the connection.
Bingo. Wires twisted, the engine went and we were off and running.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  pp174-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 13, 2019, 12:39:53 PM
CHARLEY: Beyond that we were descending again, the same kind of uncertain gravel, and taking a left hander, Ewan lost the front. It just washed away; no warning, no reason other than the transfer of weight and subsequent loss of traction, just as my bike had done that day on the Dakar. He was off before he knew it and my heart was in my mouth. By the time I pulled up he was already hefting the bike from the dirt. He didn't say anything, just took a cursory look for damage and refixed the tank bag. I can't stress how tough it is for a guy who so rarely rides off-road to spend day after day on this kind of surface. Twice this morning he'd had serious moments and had ridden on without complaint.
EWAN: I was used to the spills by now and what choice did I have anyway? What was I going to do, leave the bike and hitch a lift?
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p204
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 15, 2019, 06:40:41 PM
EWAN: Back on tarmac we headed south once more. My bike was feeling a little bouncy, the suspension perhaps a bit soft. I noticed how slowly the landscape changed; it was subtle, not like at a border where the change always seemed to be so dramatic. Riding a bike through a country you don't feel like a tourist, you're exposed to the elements and because you're seeing everything up close you really feel as though you belong.
Coming down, we were into the twisty stuff, hairpin city, and my bike didn't feel good, what with knobbly tyres and yawing suspension. The set-up felt loose and seemed to load up, almost weave, as I took the corners. I was saying as much on the video diary. Avoiding a lorry and sand on the road, I peeled into a left hand hairpin.
Shit, I'm down.
The front died; I was on my side, the bike sliding away and pirouetting on the tarmac. Kind of cool, actually, my helmet cam kept filming and, watching the footage later, it was like something off MotoGP.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p224
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 16, 2019, 10:31:39 AM
EWAN: On investigation it was about as good as we'd seen: a potential crossing that came at the water along ruts that were quite solid; little mosaic squares of mud with ridges where the sun had cracked them. The water was very shallow; the mud not too deep. Prodding around with sticks we figured that with help, we could get the bikes over.
"We should move one of the trucks first," Russ suggested, "and that way we can thread the winch round the forks and drag the bikes over."
Charley disagreed. "Let the bikes go first," he said. "We'll walk them over. If the trucks go they'll churn up the bottom and we'll never get across."
It was agreed. Charley and I played stone, paper, scissors and he won. With him guiding the throttle and clutch; me and two of the soldiers assisting, we wheeled his bike across the ruts into the soft stuff. In gear with the engine running we half drove, half pushed it through the water and up the far bank. Dry land- we'd made it and celebrated in the traditional style with much yelling and whooping and throwing of imaginary hats in the air. With Charley's bike safely on her side stand with the savanna stretching ahead, we went back for my bike and finally Claudio's.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p243
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 17, 2019, 12:20:20 PM
CHARLEY: We'd allowed ourselves five days in Tanzania, but Eve was on her way and would be meeting us at the border with Malawi, and I knew Ewan would be itching to get there. Still, it would take as long as it took and the roads looked pretty... interesting. Virtually all of Rwanda had been tarmac. Now we were in Tanzania it would be mostly dirt. Once again, there was a huge change as we crossed the border. Rwanda was vibrant, very clean. Crossing into Tanzania we were back on the veldt, the great savanna; the world drier and dustier, grass and grey dirt, a horizon marked only by the distant mountains.
We stopped for fuel at a petrol station that was no more than a collection of tented huts. There was one pump and it said: 'diesel' but the guy dishing it into jerrycans assured me it was petrol.
"Really?" I said. "It says diesel right there." I tapped the pump with my glove that had been missing the thumb and index fingertips since before Ethiopia.
"No, no, petrol, petrol." I can't tell the difference between the smell of petrol and diesel, had no choice but to trust him. The bike didn't conk out, though, and once Ewan was fuelled up we were off again.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p270
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 18, 2019, 09:17:21 AM
CHARLEY: I was glad Ewan and Eve had had a day to themselves; if it had been Ollie coming out I'd have done it for sure. And it was great having her around. I know that when the idea was first mooted I'd had some reservations, probably born of not knowing how the dynamic would work. I'd had plenty of experience being on the road with Ewan. We'd been through the pitfalls, both emotional and physical, and we knew how to handle them together. Adding a third person even for a short time, especially one of our wives, had raised the odd question. I needn't have worried of course, Eve was fantastic: I'd known her for years, what kind of a person she was and deep down I'd always known she could handle it. Now she was here and, far from being any kind of burden, her presence was very refreshing.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p285
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 19, 2019, 11:48:46 AM
CHARLEY: Morgan showed us a collection of snakes, hooded cobras and various others that spat venom into your eyes to blind you. Their aim was perfect and the only way to get rid of it was with water, immediately, and from the most easily available source, out in the bush with no waterhole nearby. Ewan said that he'd happily... no, we won't go there.
We also saw a black mamba, which has to be one of the scariest snakes there is. It can grow to twelve feet long and can swim. On land it moves at twenty kilometres an hour with one third of its body upright, weaving through the bush. Its skin is grey inside of its mouth that's black, and when it bites it injects enough venom to kill ten full-grown men. If you don't get anti-venom immediately you're toast.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p300
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 20, 2019, 09:45:17 AM
CHARLEY: It was incredible to realise that after such a mammoth journey we only had ten days to go. My mood fluctuated between tremendous excitement about seeing Ollie, Doone and Kinvara, and pangs of sadness that I'd no longer be throwing my leg over the saddle every morning. The thing about travelling like this is you get so used to it, so excited about what each day might bring, that you can't quite contemplate stopping. I remember after Long Way Round I'd be home in London asleep with Ollie and wake up thinking, "I'm late and Ewan's packed and on his bike waiting." It was hard to contemplate going back to normality.
But I couldn't and shouldn't think about that now. I considered the cyclists we'd met, Kurt and Dorothy, on the road for nine years. I thought about Steve in Malawi, his entire life packed on the roof of a truck. I realised just how fortunate we were to be able make this trip, see places like the Okavango and take on roads that hadn't seen a motorcycle in years. This particular road was easier now and standing on the pegs I settled into the rhythm. I was relaxed and happy, excited: thinking no further ahead than the upcoming Namibian border.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p310
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 21, 2019, 10:03:36 AM
EWAN: We fired up the engines and pulled away from Cape Agulhas. We were on the blacktop: Charley alongside me, I reached across and grabbed his hand. The noise of the engines was drowned suddenly by another, larger, meatier engine altogether: a helicopter. It dipped above us like a bird of prey, a cameraman hanging out the door. I thought of Colin, my bother and former Tornado pilot; he'd arranged a fly-by to launch the trip at Castle Mey. Perfect, I thought, a tornado to begin and a chopper to finish.
Kicking down a gear, I tucked in and cracked the throttle. And finally there was Cape Town cradled in a valley- the sprawl of skyscrapers, suburbs and shanties dwarfed by the might of Table Mountain. I realised this was a dream, a childhood dream: motorbikes and meeting people in the most extraordinary places, people who basically have nothing and yet share what little they have.
I felt like I wanted to turn round and ride back up. We'd met so many fantastic people and seen so many fantastic places, and yet I felt that we had only scratched the surface. There's so much more to learn about Africa. I know I'll be back, and I can hardly wait. It feels more like the beginning of a journey than the end of one.
Long Way Down  Ewan McGregor & Charlie Borman  p327
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 22, 2019, 09:44:15 AM
Michael and I have had fairly unbelievable weather on our travels up the East Coast. It was often very hot, mostly in the 90s, but even in an armoured leather suit, boots, gloves, and full-face helmet you adapt to that, basically by facing the fact that "it's hot", and carrying on. It's the same onstage, where I was also often working in very hot conditions- you just play the song, wipe away the sweat, drink some water, and carry on.
In all those thousands of miles, and dozens of days, Michael and I had exactly one day of rain- on a country-road ramble from Hipper Lake, New York, to a show near Buffalo. Riding in the rain is not bad when you're not in traffic and you're not in a hurry. You can relax into a smooth, cautious pace (though Michael thinks I ride too fast in the rain- but I think he rides too fast in freeway traffic). I enjoyed those damp, quiet roads through the Adirondacks and the farming country of Western New York.
Far And Away  Neil Peart  pp3-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 23, 2019, 08:35:44 AM
I've also been exploring new territory on the bike. GPS has evolved a lot in the past few years, and even though riding partner Michael and I still call our units Doofus and Dingus, I must say I'm much more inclined to trust the thing now. On the day before a ride, I look over the maps of the area of the upcoming jobsite, and highlight a route along the smallest roads on the Rand McNally maps. Then Michael puts them in the computer and downloads them to Doofus and Dingus. The next day we simply follow their instructions, clearly (usually) and accurately (usually) displayed in front of us.
In that way, we have been able to ride on roads that I'm sure no one but locals have ever travelled, sometimes one-lane paved or unpaved roads through deep forest. Much more fun to putter along those, past woodlands and occasional farms, than the busier roads, of course. It can even be relaxing, in a way that riding in traffic can never be.
Far And Away  Neil Peart  p5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 24, 2019, 12:01:33 PM
Taking into consideration that Michael's and my motorcycle rides between shows average about 275 miles a day, I actually spend far more time in the saddle than I do on the drum throne. That takes its toll, too- in the sore spots that Michael and I call "saddle tats"; in the tired mind from making a million decisions about traffic and road surfaces as you ride hour after hour; and in a body beaten by wind, vibration, and the physical activity of motorcycling, especially in the mountains, with so much braking, shifting, accelerating, and moving your body on the bike for more effective cornering.
Then there was the heat- in the 100s for many days, especially in the Southwest. Desert heat is one thing, but when the humidity is also high, as in South Texas, and you're wearing the armored suit, helmet, gloves, and boots, you get to feel like you're covered in a coat of slime, riding past a small-town bank clock showing 105o.
Far And Away  Neil Peart  p12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 25, 2019, 09:34:01 AM
I had run across the term "shunpiking" in car and motorcycle magazines a few times and thought it was fairly well known, but apparently many people are unfamiliar with the concept. It goes back about 500 years, to a time when British roads were lawless, especially at night, prowled by highwaymen and footpads. Villages blockaded their entry roads with a long pole- a pike- stretched across them. Around the same time, toll roads were invented, and a similar pike blocked the way until travellers paid their fee, when the pike would be turned- hence "turnpike."
In those days, travellers who deliberately avoided toll roads called themselves "shunpikers". Lately, the term has been adopted by drivers and riders who deliberately avoid all major roads. On the Snakes and Arrows tour, as Michael and I have commuted to forty-nine shows and covered just under 20,000 motorcycle miles around the U.S. and Canada, we have become major shunpikers.
Far And Away  Neil Peart  p20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 26, 2019, 09:54:51 AM
Perhaps my favourite part of a long day on the motorcycle is that first hour of arriving and settling into a hotel, whether humble or luxurious. It feels so good to pull up in front of the hotel, kick down the sidestand, and lift a weary leg over the saddle, still keyed up from the adventures, yet gradually easing into a more relaxed state of mind. I peel off my gloves, lift off the helmet, pull out the earplugs, and slowly stretch my back into an upright posture again. Brutus goes inside to see about our rooms, while I lazily open the aluminium luggage cases and unload my soft bags, unhook the duffel from my saddle, and unzip the tankbag, piling them at the curb. At a hotel sufficiently luxurious as to provide a bellman, such as the Bayerischer Hof, I'll load up the luggage cart (at our hotel in Scotland, the doorman looked at me blankly when I requested a cart- they call it a trolley). Piling on my gear, hanging my helmet from the crossbar, I'll start adding Brutus' luggage, too.
Once the bikes are parked, we find our way to our rooms and start the usual sequence of rituals. First unpack the dress-up-for-dinner clothes (suit and tie in Europe, black cotton shirt and pants in North America) and hang them in the bathroom, to let the shower steam out the wrinkles. Clean the helmet's face shield with the "bug rag" I carry in my tankbag, and hang the grubby white cloth by the shower to be washed later, then draped over a chair to dry overnight (in plain sight, so you don't leave it behind- it's the kind of thing you miss when a bug splatters itself across the plastic in front of your eyes). Finally, spread the luggage bags across the bed and dig out the plastic flask of The Macallan.
Far And Away  Neil Peart  p42
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 27, 2019, 09:31:12 AM
The tiny, winding roads led us up across high ridges with majestic views, the rich green valleys sloping down to the glittering turquoise and blue water- the Atlantic Ocean to the north, the Caribbean Sea to the south. The riding was challenging, over crumbling pavement in tightly wound, narrow switchbacks, and I was reminded of certain roads in Mexico- especially el Espinazo de Diablo, "the spine of the devil", in the Sierra Madre. Other similarities to Mexican roads were the hazards of chickens, dogs, iguanas, cows, horses, ancient smoking cars and pickups, erratic driving, non-functioning brake lights and turn signals- not only unused, in the fashion of thoughtless drivers everywhere, but actually not working, their bulbs seemingly shaken to bits on the local roads. Potholes and broken shoulders were sometimes repaired with a patchwork of lumpy asphalt, and if a section of road had washed away down a cliff, they simply moved the guardrail in, greeting the oncoming rider with a sudden stretch of one-lane road. And perhaps an oncoming truck or school bus.
For all of those reasons, most of our cross-island ride was taken in first gear, creeping around blind hairpins with the ever-present possibility of... anything. In steeper country, where the road was carved into loops down a mountainside, the houses were perched at the pavement's edge. With no flat ground for a driveway, say, if a guy needed to work on his car, he simply parked it on the road and jacked it up- offering yet another surprise as we rounded a blind corner.
Far And Away  Neil Peart  p65
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 28, 2019, 09:29:47 AM
Recently I happened to see a story in the New York Times (July 13, 2008) titled 'The Pros of Motorcycle Helmets', in which reporter Jerry Garrett wrote that victims of motorcycle crashes were indeed favoured by the medical community as organ donors. He recounted how a motorcyclists' rights organization had contacted a hospital to enlist their support for a 'freedom of choice' coalition- specifically, to support the right of motorcyclists not to wear helmets. The hospital directors were concerned about the ethics (or at least, ramifications) of such an endorsement because, as one doctor stated, "Motorcycle fatalities are not only our number one source of organs, they are the highest quality source of organs, because donors are usually young, healthy people with no other traumatic injuries to the body, except to the head." The hospital's 'ethical' issue was actually about (surprise) money- the loss of income the hospital would suffer as a result of a reduction in available organs for transplants if motorcyclists wore helmets. They decided to stay out of it.
Granted, the figures on motorcycle fatalities, especially from head injuries, are alarming, but a look at the details shows that those tragedies are so often unnecessary. The majority of such incidents share common causes: the victims were young, inexperienced, drunk, and bare-headed.
Far And Away  Neil Peart  pp90-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 29, 2019, 09:56:46 AM
Looking over the map the previous day at home, planning my route to Death Valley, and browsing for anything new I might explore (always trying to find at least one new road), I noticed a dot just over the Nevada line called Devils Hole. (Note the lack of apostrophe- almost no official American place names have them, I've noticed, even if it's Browns Mill or Toms River. Apparently the Board on Geographic Names of the United States Government- yes, there is such a thing- hates apostrophes. According to Wikipedia, only five names of natural features in the U.S. are officially spelled with an apostrophe, one example being Martha's Vineyard.)
Far And Away  Neil Peart  p112
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 30, 2019, 12:41:06 PM
Here I will resort to the old bike-parked-in-front-of-landscape shot. Because what a bike- and what a landscape. The motorcycle is a new BMW R1200GS, and this was our first adventure together. Strangely, BMW did not offer the bike in red this year (are they insane?), so I had to have it painted- because all my motorcycles have been red. I've never been comfortable driving a red car, you understand, but it just seems right for a motorcycle. And I didn't want to settle for a silver, blue, or (gasp!) yellowish-orange one. After having the paint done, and the accessories installed- Jesse luggage cases, Motolights on the front for extra conspicuity, GPS (Dingus III), power for the radar detector- I finally brought the new bike home in late November. I stood looking at it in my garage for a while, and wondered, "Where will we go together?" My two previous 1200GSes had certainly carried me far. For the Snakes and Arrows tour in 2007 and 2008, my two 'working bikes' had been a 2004 1200GS, with over 70,000 kilometres (42,000 miles), and a 2007 model, with over 60,000 kilometres (36,000 miles).
Far And Away  Neil Peart  p114
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 31, 2019, 05:42:53 PM
But on that busy Sunday in Deals Gap, the traffic alone was enough to slow our progress- we were stuck in a halting parade of Harleys and clones all the way through the 318 sharp turns, switchbacks, and tricky hairpins. That kind of riding was way beyond the limited cornering clearance of such 'fashion statement' motorcycles, and apparently beyond their riders, too. But at least they'd be able to say they had ridden the Tail of the Dragon. And eventually even those leisurely cruisers drew ahead of us because we were crawling behind one wobbly neo-biker who looked the look, but most assuredly could not ride the ride. (My Harley-riding friend Dave has a sticker on his helmet that reads "$20,000 and 2,000 Miles Does Not Make You a Biker"). This specimen of fragile masculinity could not bow to letting us by- but at least we would not be having any conversations with the cops in the bushes. (Though they must have been snickering to themselves as we passed.)
Far And Away  Neil Peart  p131
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 01, 2019, 09:14:13 AM
Altogether, in those five days I rode 2,500 miles, and was glad to pull into my own garage, and get off that bike. As I have quoted myself before, "When I'm riding my motorcycle, I'm glad to be alive- and when I stop riding my motorcycle, I'm glad to be alive."
That, I hope, will never change.
And I felt pretty good about the trip- despite all the rain, cold, and violent winds (and partly because of them), it had been an action-packed few days. My careful planning had paid off in all the important little ways, like the bike preparation, route planning, and wardrobe changes. (I laughed when I was pleased to note that I'd had 'all the right gloves', always a critical detail in riding comfort. These days I carry three pairs: for hot, dry weather; wet or dry cool weather; and cold, wet weather.)
Far And Away  Neil Peart  p191
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on April 01, 2019, 09:17:13 AM
I carry three pairs too, plus some waterpoof glove covers for heavy rain.  An average of 800km per day over five days is quite easily doable if you ask me.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 02, 2019, 10:06:26 AM
"Oh, the places you'll go," said Dr. Seuss, and for this traveller, there is no way I'd rather go than by motorcycle. And it too can be a time machine, taking me to places where the past seems alive, but carried forward into the present. And that present-- the day's weather, scenery, wildlife, and humanity- is experienced with raw nerve-endings.
As for the future, it's always right there- the road ahead of my front wheel. But so far humans don't really have a way to send ourselves into the future- with the sole exception of transmitting our DNA through the delightful medium of babies. Some might say creating something beautiful that endures is a kind of immortality, but even if a story or a song survives into the future, it can't take you with it.
Far And Away  Neil Peart  pp235-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 03, 2019, 09:35:15 AM
Riding my own motorcycle out of the MGM Grand Arena that night after the show was certainly a novel experience (unique, even, as I have never actually left a show by motorcycle), and I confess that I was mildly thrilled at having our two motorcycles led by two Police bikes, with flashing lights and everything. (Nice to have them in front of me, for once, instead of behind.)
After the motor officers had smoothed our way out of town, Chris and I set out across the dark Nevada desert on Interstate 15. I was tired enough after two shows in a row, and that day's 340 mile ride across the Mojave Desert in 112° heat (and an outdoor oil-change ditto), but felt no drowsiness- I was both exhilarated and powerfully alert.
The Ducati's headlight behind me was pale and yellow, and easily lost in other following traffic, but I tried to keep Chris in my mirrors all the time. Occasionally I slowed a little to make sure there was still a single headlight behind me, and there it was- though suspiciously slow and far back. Finally I got worried and pulled over to the shoulder, four-ways flashing in that inky darkness, with speeding traffic roaring up from behind. I looked back and watched that single headlight come up on me, then cursed as I saw that it was a one-eyed SUV. Pulling the handheld device out of my tankbag, I saw a text from Chris. "Rear tire shredded. Calling AAA."
Far And Away  Neil Peart  pp256-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 04, 2019, 11:08:43 AM
On the "business travel" side, I have been motorcycling to concerts for fourteen years- hundreds of shows and tens of thousands of miles- and have yet to be late even for a soundcheck, let alone a show. However, this time I would not have the 'support crew' of a bus and trailer in the general vicinity (following the interstates while I explored the back roads). No spare bike, no BMW Roadside Assistance and well-placed dealers, none of the 'easy' rescues available in North America and Western Europe. We would be pretty much on our own.
As I wrote to Brutus early on, when he was painstakingly researching and planning the journey (for about six months), "You know that a lot is 'riding' on this little venture of ours, and NOTHING can go wrong." He needed no reminding, but perhaps it was another kind of magical thinking to state it so plainly- a talisman to ward off the Evil Eye.
We did have a real 'guardian angel' watching over us. Michael installed satellite tracking devices on our bikes, and while he travelled by air, with the band and crew, he could check his computer screen and follow our 'breadcrumbs' (that's what they call the electronic tracks we left, in that curious, playful imagery that sometimes emerges from high-tech language- a contradiction that has fascinated me at least since writing the lyrics for our song "Vital Signs" in that style, in 1980).
Far And Away  Neil Peart  pp274-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 05, 2019, 09:18:52 AM
And it was one Brutus and I- and everybody else- were worried about getting ourselves to in time. We only had one day off to get there, and would have to ride 1,000 kilometres (600 miles) the first day, to Mendoza, Argentina, to be close enough to the Chilean border to be sure of getting to Santiago good and early.
Up in the dark and away by sunrise, we rode off across the Pampas again...
In Buenos Aires, Brutus and I heard that 'somebody' (probably the promoter) was sending a car to follow us across Argentina. Brutus passed the word back, "Just make sure we don't see the guy- at the hotel, or on the road." He and I agreed, "We don't want to be like Ewan and Charley," referring to actors Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman, who have made a couple of amazing motorcycle journeys, around the world (as seen in Long Way Round) and from Scotland to South Africa (Long Way Down) but they travelled with a van carrying a film crew, medic and security officer. Actually, of course we did want to be like Ewan and Charley (who wouldn't?), but without the 'retinue'.
Knowing we had a long way to go, we attacked the day that way. Brutus and I fell into the rhythm we had established on our first motorcycle tours together- changing the lead at every fuel stop, and hardly stopping otherwise. Several times on that long ride we had to use our spare gallons of gas to reach occasionally far-distant gas stations, but that was why we carried them.
Far And Away  Neil Peart  p287
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 09, 2019, 09:59:29 AM
California, Labour Day weekend... early, with ocean fog still in the streets, outlaw motorcyclists wearing chains, shades and greasy Levis roll out from damp garages, all-night diners and cast-off one-night pads in Frisco, Hollywood, Berdoo and East Oakland, heading for the Monterey peninsula, north of Big Sur. The Menace is loose again, the Hell's Angels, the hundred-carat headline, running fast and loud on the early morning freeway, low in the saddle, nobody smiles, jamming crazy through traffic at ninety miles an hour down the centre stripe, missing by inches... like Genghis Khan on an iron horse, a monster steed with fiery anus.
Hell's Angels  Hunter S. Thompson  p13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 10, 2019, 02:02:07 PM
One of the worst incidents of that era caused no complaints at all: this was a sort of good-natured firepower demonstration, which occurred one Sunday morning about three-thirty. For reasons that were never made clear, I blew out my back windows with five blasts of a 12-gauge shotgun, followed moments later by six rounds from a .44 Magnum. It was a prolonged outburst of heavy firing, drunken laughter and crashing glass. Yet the neighbours reacted with total silence. For a while I assumed that some freakish wind pocket had absorbed all the sound and carried it out to sea, but after my eviction I learned otherwise. Every one of the shots had been duly recorded on the gossip log. Another tenant in the building told me the landlord was convinced, by all the tales he'd heard, that the interior of my apartment was reduced to rubble by orgies, brawls, fire and wanton shooting. He had even heard stories about motorcycles being driven in and out the front door.
No arrests resulted from these incidents, but according to neighbourhood rumour they were all linked to the Hell's Angels, operating out of my apartment. Probably this is why the Police were so rarely summoned; nobody wanted to be croaked by an Angel revenge party.
Hell's Angels  Hunter S. Thompson  p57
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 11, 2019, 02:18:28 PM
The story of Harley-Davidson and the domestic motorcycle market is one of the gloomiest chapters in the history of American free enterprise. At the end of the Second World War there were less than 200,000 motorcycles registered in the United States, very few of them imports. During the 1950s, while H-D was consolidating its monopoly, bike sales doubled and then tripled. Harley had a gold mine on its hands - until 1962-3 when the import blitz began. By 1964 registrations had jumped to nearly 1,000,000 and lightweight Hondas were selling as fast as Japanese freighters could bring them over the ocean. The H-D brain trust was still pondering this Oriental duplicity when they were zapped on the opposite flank by Birmingham Small Arms Ltd of England. B.S.A. decided to challenge Harley on its own turf and in its own class, despite the price-boosting handicap of a huge protective tariff. By 1965, with registrations already up fifty per cent over the previous year, the H-D monopoly was sorely beset on two fronts. The only buyers they could count on were cops and outlaws, while the Japanese were mopping up in the low-price field and B.S.A. was giving them hell on the race track. By 1966, with the bike boom still growing, Harley was down to less than ten per cent of the domestic market and fighting to hold even that.
Hell's Angels  Hunter S. Thompson  pp86-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 12, 2019, 09:01:10 AM
A Hell's Angel on foot can look pretty foolish. Their sloppy histrionics and inane conversations can be interesting for a few hours, but beyond the initial strangeness, their everyday scene is as tedious and depressing as a costume ball for demented children. There is something pathetic about a bunch of men gathering every night in the same bar, taking themselves very seriously in their ratty uniforms, with nothing to look forward to but the chance of a fight.
But there is nothing pathetic about the sight of an Angel on his bike. The whole- man and machine together- is far more than the sum of its parts. His motorcycle is the one thing in life he has absolutely mastered. It is his only valid status symbol, his equalizer, and he pampers it the same way a busty Hollywood starlet pampers her body. Without it, he is no better than a punk on a street corner.
Hell's Angels  Hunter S. Thompson  p96
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 13, 2019, 10:32:34 PM
We drove back to camp very slowly. The car was so jammed with loose six-packs that I could barely move my arms to steer, and each bump in the road caused the springs to drag on the rear axle. When we got to the Willow Cove turnoff the car wouldn't climb the dirt hill that led into the pines... so I backed off and made a fast run at it, driving the junker straight into the hill like a cannon ball. Our momentum took us over the hump, but the crash pushed the right fender back on the tyre. The car lurched far enough down the trail to block it completely, and stopped just short of crashing into a dozen bikes enroute to the store. It took some rough work with a bumper jack to get it moving again, and just as we freed the front wheel a purple truck came grinding over the crest and rammed into my rear bumper. The rhythm of the weekend was picking up... a huge beer delivery, the rending of metal, greedy laughter and a rumble of excitement when Sonny told what had happened at Williams' store.
Hell's Angels  Hunter S. Thompson  p157
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 14, 2019, 12:59:59 PM
For some reason I no longer have Bruno's card, but I remember him because he stole a full beer from me. I couldn't quite believe it, for he had gone to great lengths to make sure I didn't have any wrong impressions about the Gypsy Jokers. From time to time we would put our beers down on the trunk of the car we were leaning against. Just before he left I opened a fresh can, put it down and saw Bruno exchange it deftly for his own, which was empty. When I mentioned this to Hutch, he shrugged and said, "It was probably just a habit, one of those tricks you pick up from drinking in bars when you're broke."
Habits like these are widespread in outlaw society. The outlaws can be very friendly with outsiders, but not all of them equate friendship with mutual trust. Some will steal senselessly, out of sheer habit or compulsion, while others will take pains to protect a naive outsider against the more light-fingered of the brethren who are not to be pitied or censured, but only watched.
Hell's Angels  Hunter S. Thompson  p187
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 15, 2019, 09:32:05 AM
Long before the outlaws discovered La Honda, the free-wheeling acid parties were already cause for alarm among respectable LSD buffs - scientists, psychiatrists and others in the behavioural science fields who felt the drug should only be taken in 'controlled experiment' situations, featuring carefully screened subjects under constant observation by experienced 'guides'. Such precautions are thought to be insurance against bad trips. Any potential flip-out who leaks through the screening process can be quickly stuffed with tranquillizers the moment he shows signs of blood lust or attempts to wrench off his own head to get a better look inside it.
Hell's Angels  Hunter S. Thompson  p244
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 16, 2019, 09:54:57 AM
"There's only two kinds of people in the world," Magoo explained one night. "Angels, and people who wish they were Angels."
Yet not even Magoo really believes that. When the party swings right, with plenty of beer and broads, being an Angel is a pretty good way to go. But on some of those lonely afternoons when you're fighting a toothache and trying to scrape up a few dollars to pay a traffic fine and the landlord has changed the lock on your door until you pay the back rent... then it's no fun being an Angel. It's hard to laugh when your teeth are so rotten that they hurt all the time and no dentist will touch you unless the bill is paid in advance. So it helps to believe, when the body rots start to hurt, that the pain is a small price to pay for the higher rewards of being a righteous Angel.
This wavering paradox is a pillar of the outlaw stance. A man who has blown all his options can't afford the luxury of changing his ways. He has to capitalise on whatever he has left, and he can't afford to admit - no matter how often he's reminded of it - that every day of his life takes him farther down a blind alley.
Hell's Angels  Hunter S. Thompson  pp266-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 17, 2019, 12:04:39 PM
But with the throttle screwed on, there is only the barest margin and no room at all for mistakes. It has to be done right... and that's when the strange music starts, when you stretch your luck so far that fear becomes exhilaration and vibrates along your arms. You can barely see at a hundred; the tears blow back so fast that they vaporise before they get to your ears. The only sounds are wind and a dull roar floating back from the mufflers. You watch the white line and try to lean with it... howling through a turn to the right, then to the left and down the long hill to Pacifica ... letting off now, watching for cops, but only until the next dark stretch and another few seconds on the edge. The Edge. There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over. The others- the living- are those who pushed their control as far as they felt they could handle it, and then pulled back, or slowed down, or did whatever they had to when it came time to choose between Now and Later.
But the Edge is still Out there. Or maybe it's In. The association of motorcycles with LSD is no accident of publicity. They are both a means to an end, to the place of definitions.
Hell's Angels  Hunter S. Thompson  p282
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 18, 2019, 03:18:03 PM
When I saw the car versus bike challenges the TV lot had come up with, I didn't think the bike stood a chance of winning any of them. The first was a quarter-mile drag race the wrong way up Hangar Straight. There were some cones lined up to show where the start was and the finish line was a bridge over the track. I lined up and looked to my right, where it's not another bike, it's David Coulthard in a V8 F1 car! Bloody brilliant. I was on the Superbike spec BMW S1000RR. It has launch control, but I wasn't using it. I'm quicker setting and controlling it manually, balancing the throttle, clutch and rear brake. With all the grip and power the F1 car's got, I thought Coulthard would smoke me. It as my first time on a superbike since breaking my back six months earlier, but I got off the line much quicker than the car. I was pressing hard on the back brake, to keep the front end down, and leading the car up to the halfway mark. Coulthard was coming fast and he just beat me, by three-tenths of a second. The terminal speeds were 159 mph for the car and 157 mph for the bike. Everyone was amazed how close it was.
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  pp37-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 19, 2019, 11:39:42 PM
The idea, for those who didn't see it at the time, was to set the fastest-ever speed recorded on a wall of death. I was determined to do it on a bike I'd built myself and had started making parts for it on the milling machine in my shed.
We weren't messing, it was going to be the biggest wall of death ever, at least twice the size of any other in the world, and as the date got closer I was working flat out on the Rob North triple, my wall of death bike. Every spare minute I had was spent working on it. I felt this was the biggest thing I'd done in motorcycling, and a big part of that was down to me building my own bike. Riding the wall itself wasn't what made it special, whole thing combined- building the bike, the wall and the riding. Who is ever going to do that again?
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  p47
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 20, 2019, 12:34:57 PM
Push-biking
I learned that I know my pace. I know that when hills get steep I should get off and push for a bit, not kill myself every five minutes to make a climb, because if I do that I won't last. So I was pushing up hills in Ireland that I could ride up on a normal day's ride. You need a different mindset when you know you're cycling for 750 miles, or 2,745 miles. You've got to know that if you're only doing 3 or 4 mph and your heart rate rises to 180 or 190 bpm while you're crawling up the hill you're not gaining anything. You can walk at that speed and get your heart rate down. And you have the added benefit that it stretches your legs. I only walked for five minutes or something at a time, until the gradient slackened off, then got back on.
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  pp118-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 21, 2019, 02:06:02 PM
Radical are a sports car company based in Peterborough. They started in 1997, making track cars powered by superbike engines. The cars were for keen track "day drivers", very lightweight, dead revvy and adjustable, so they were more like proper racing cars than modified road cars. And because they had motorcycle engines and fibreglass or carbon-fibre bodywork, they had good power-to-weight ratios. From very early in their history, Radical organised their own race series for owners, and they quickly started exporting around the world.
The company kept adding models, eventually making a road-legal car, all the time with bike engines, then, in 2005, they started using the Ford V8 engine in their SR8. That car- it looks like a modern Le Mans racer- holds the production-car lap record at the Nurburgring Nordschleife, the place I'd still like to go back to with a trick motorbike for a crack at the lap record. It's on the list.
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  p130
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 24, 2019, 09:35:54 AM
I was enjoying the Isle of Man TT less and less every year. It seemed like it was getting buried under more people, more bullshit, more mither. I still loved the racing, but it felt like it was harder to dig down to that through everything else. I enjoyed the 2015 TT, because I stayed out of the way and I had the dog out there with me, but I still drove home after the fortnight was over thinking, What am I doing? I wasn't there to make up the numbers. I'd gone faster than I ever had before, with a 132.398 mph lap in the 2015 Senior, and on the podium in the 600 race. So I was licking on, but I'd probably rather have been at work. There were good bits. I got to ride my bike around the TT course and walk my dog in the hills and go pushbiking, but I was going through the motions. I'd done it for years, and even though it's the Isle of Man TT, it's still only a motorbike race.
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  p171
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 25, 2019, 10:27:26 AM
Riding the USA Tour Divide bicycle challenge...
Later that night I was pedalling down a mountain pass in the dark when my pedal shot off for the second time and I lost the part that clipped to my shoe. Oh bloody hell. It was God knows how many miles to the next town, where there might not even be a bike shop. These clip-in pedals, designed to fasten to special cycling shoes, are only the size of a Ritz Cracker. I must have spent an hour scanning down the slopes with my head torch trying to find a bit of pedal to help me get by. It was only the end of the second day. I didn't know if my ankle being slightly out of line, and full of metalwork, was causing the bearings in my pedals to wear quicker, but I had tried to account for it with the angle of the clip on my shoe. I must have been doing something wrong, as it should've lasted longer than this. So now I had one good pedal and one slippery plastic sole trying, and failing, to grip on a finger of polished metal.
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  pp184-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 26, 2019, 12:27:04 PM
I left their shed at four in the morning and I was in Grants, where the Tour Divide trail crossed Interstate 40, which is part of the old Route 66, at eight. There was a big truck stop so I treated myself to my first shower since leaving the hotel in Banff. I was about 2,400 miles in and on my seventeenth day of riding, so I didn't know if I needed a shower or not, but I was going to have one anyway and it was mega. It cost me $11, though. I thought it was dear, but they gave me soap and the use of a towel. You had to book your shower, so while I was waiting I went in the diner and ordered summat called Chester's chicken. I was tucking into it when someone came to find me and told me my shower was ready. I took my chicken with me and sat naked on a bench in the shower, eating it. I caught the reflection of myself in a mirror and couldn't believe how much weight I'd lost. I was sat there, filling my face and thinking, Who's that? I looked like I'd escaped from a prisoner-of-war camp. If I hadn't have been biking I'd have been a fat bugger, the amount of rubbish I was eating.
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  p239
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 27, 2019, 09:25:05 AM
Riding the Tour Divide couldn't have been further away from the Isle of Man TT, both physically and mentally. It reminded me that most people are genuinely nice, when I was beginning to think that a lot of them were rude. I was getting the feeling that people had seen me on telly and only wanted to talk to me to tell someone else that they'd talked to me, and not because they were into what I was into or they had something interesting to say. America made me realise that it's not all like that. The people I met on the Tour Divide didn't know I'd been on telly a few times- they just wanted to help the person they'd just met, even though I smelt like a dead badger. They'd open their shop early, invite me in for a hot drink or fire the grill back up, even though they were just heading home, because they're nice people and they want to help other people. I've got manners and I ask for things politely- I think I'm a nice person, and I like it when other people are.
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  p256
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 28, 2019, 01:20:06 PM
We raced down the middle of the exhibition hall on matching dirt-track race bikes, each of us towing a roller-derby lass on her rollerskates. It was like the 1975 film Rollerball. We were even wearing helmets painted to exactly match the teams from the film. Charlie Chuck was only taught how to ride a bike a week before the Rollerburn show, just so he could take part in this race. Next thing, he's lining up between me and Gary, and we've all got tattooed lasses from the Lincolnshire Bombers Roller Girls team in short shorts, fishnets and long socks, crouching down and hanging on to special handles on the back of three Co-Built Rotax race bikes. The race was supposed to be a bit of fun and a spectacle, and it was, but Gary got off the line quicker than me, and I wasn't having that, so I gave the 600cc dirt tracker a bit of a handful and overtook him, with Charlie Chuck not that far behind, cackling like a madman. He was mental, and now that I think back, he wasn't even wearing a helmet. Unsurprisingly, I hadn't practised racing with a roller-girl on the back, so I think I went a bit quick for the lass. Her racing name was Catfight Candy, and she got into a bit of a speed wobble over 45 mph, fell and ended up with a bit of friction burn from the polished concrete floor. Some of those roller-derby women are as hard as nails, and she was still smiling, happy that we'd won.
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  pp276-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 29, 2019, 06:39:55 PM
Bonneville Salt Flat speed record chasing
After going through the starting procedure again I set off, and this time I got settled quickly. I looked at the speedo expecting to see 60 and I was already doing 120 mph, the maximum I was supposed to do, but Matt had already said I could do 150. Next thing I knew I was doing 180, 190- it came so easy. So I thought, Let's see what it'll do. There was no sensation of speed, which was why it could feel boring. The team had set a limit, electronically, which stopped me revving the bike as hard as I wanted. This was the first time I tested the parachutes. I released them in the order Matt told me: right hand release first, then left. This deploys the big one first.
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  pp354-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 30, 2019, 11:21:44 AM
The wobble didn't make me want to stop riding but I planned to wear the ONT helmet with the HANS device now. HANS stands for Head and Neck Support. The helmet is tethered to a shoulder harness that limits how much the head can move forward or back in relation to the body, and should stop injuries from whiplash movements. A lot of car-racing series, including F1, have made them compulsory, and I was used to riding the thing by now, so I didn't need the familiarity of the AGV any more. I wanted the added safety of a helmet with a HANS device, and bike helmets don't have the screw holes to fit one to.
Worms To Catch  Guy Martin  p357
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 01, 2019, 12:29:42 PM
Michael and I had ended up riding separately- he was late showing up at my house, so I just left. (No fun standing in the driveway with all your riding gear on, straddling a silent bike- not wanting to disturb the neighbourhood, even with the BMW's inoffensive purr.) I texted him my intended route and figured we would almost certainly connect somewhere along that highway. But we never did- Michael followed me into the truck stop at Grants to meet the bus a half hour behind me. And that was fine, I never mind riding alone. It's having someone to talk to at the end of the day that's nice. Even if that someone is Michael. (Longtime readers know the two of us are "the best of frenemies", and maintain our day-to-day equilibrium by constantly "venting" at each other.) I still like to tell the story of how one time Michael delivered a load of bitter and obscene rhetoric on me, and I said, "I love that you feel you can talk to me like that- but I really wish you wouldn't."
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  p64
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 02, 2019, 11:55:30 AM
Perhaps it is only long habit that makes me prefer to find my routes on paper maps, with the tactile details they seem to reveal- and that's the perfect word. I do not so much design a route as study the page for a while and let the "right" roads be revealed to me. With highlighter pen, I stitch together a complicated thread of Rand McNally's thin red lines, grey lines, and, best of all, the broken grey lines- the unpaved roads. The term "adventure riders" has become tarnished with overuse, but if it's adventure a motorcyclist is looking for, it will likely be found on those roads. (In recent years those paper maps are increasingly hard to find. We used to start every tour by buying the Rand McNally boxed set of all fifty states, but now Michael has to collect them piecemeal online, and they are dated more than a decade ago.)
Unless we have to get into a city for work, I avoid all major arteries, especially divided four-lanes (heavy traffic, low speed limits, and frequent intersections), and any settlements with more than a single stoplight or two. Once I have joined the puzzle (as it often feels) with my blue highlighter, we move into the modern digital world. I pass the map to Michael and, kneeling at his computer, he transfers the route (often with much mumbling of profanities) to his mapping program.
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  pp86-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 03, 2019, 09:11:57 AM
"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
That wonderful final line from The Great Gatsby applies so perfectly to this tour- I certainly did a lot of "beating" (and took a lot, too), and the show we were presenting went back in reverse chronology musically, and in its production, with stage sets devolving around us. The places Michael and I visited on days off were usually rural areas and small towns that seemed pleasantly out of step with the modem world of big cities and arenas.
"Boats against the current" can be likened to "bikes against the weather", because in just the first couple of weeks we experienced every kind there is, from desert heat to snow to torrential rains.
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  p97
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 06, 2019, 05:51:32 PM
It sometimes happens that toward the end of a long ride something takes hold of me- like what Jack Lewis describes as "a horse that can smell the barn". It always happens on a challenging road, late in the day, and some of those rides have been unforgettable. Riding into Death Valley for the first time, under a full moon, was one of those- another happened in Tuscany, when Brutus and I had crossed the Alps from Austria and been held up with some bike trouble. By evening all of the Italians seemed to be off the road, and it was just me racing ahead of Brutus. (He always sensed when I was "possessed", and just let me go.) Winding through the exquisite countryside, framed in a supernatural golden light, my world shrank to the bike and the road.
That day on the Cherohala, we still had a couple of hours to ride back to Suches, and dark clouds were bringing in the rain that was forecast for the evening. Once I was sure we had enough photos, I started "smelling the barn". I rode off and surrendered to that spell, that determined pace. I threaded the curves in a rapid rhythm, eyes like a ray on the apex and the exit, keeping everything smooth and quick. Occasionally I glanced in my mirrors and saw a single head-light behind- "Probably a sportbike rider," I thought, and I wicked up the pace a little- to keep him back there. Like Becca said, "Just to know I could do it."
Curve after curve, mile after mile, that light was still there, and only later did I learn that of course it was Becca. Wes said after, "I haven't seen her smile like that for a long time."
I asked him, "Is it a sin to dance with another man's wife?"
Wes laughed and said, "No, it's not!"
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  pp105-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 07, 2019, 09:42:19 AM
As the road descended, I just stayed with the flow of traffic, taking it easy on the wet road. I began to encounter lines of vehicles backed up at traffic lights, and at one of them, just after Manitou Springs, a small pickup pulled up beside me. A bearded man in a park ranger's uniform leaned over and called through his passenger window, "You dropped one of your boxes back there."
I automatically looked to the rear of the bike, saw that my right-side luggage case was gone and felt an immediate chill of alarm and fear. The hardshell cases were locked onto the frame of the bike, so one of them coming off was like, say, losing the trunk of your car.
"About a half mile or a mile back," the ranger said.
Thanking him, I made a U-turn at the lights and raced back up the divided highway a mile or so, then turned around and rode back in the drizzling rain, slowly scanning the roadside. At first I hadn't been too upset, thinking I would surely find the case lying beside the road and everything would be okay, but I didn't see it.
Still hopeful, I thought, "Maybe I didn't go back far enough." I turned around again sped uphill a couple of miles this time, then circled back and rode slowly over that same stretch of road, desperately scanning for that luggage case. It wasn't there.
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  pp128-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 08, 2019, 09:03:58 AM
But the years went by- a decade went by- and the lost case slipped from memory. But as I talked on the phone from my office in sunny Los Angeles to Rob in snowy New York on Tuesday, February 4, 2015, all of that flooded back. But from so long ago, I could hardly absorb it.
How many times in the past ten years had readers of Roadshow asked me if I ever got that case back? I'd always had to give a rueful shake of my head and say, "Unfortunately, no."
And now- presto change-o- that luggage case and its contents were back in my life. Imagine losing a suitcase or a cardboard box full of close personal possessions for over ten years. At first the vanished items would be achingly real and personal, and their loss would hurt. With the passing of years the objects cease to be "attached"- or you cease to be attached to them- and they are all replaced in your life by new versions. Like one of those time travel stories where a person or object can't appear twice in the same place- these are a phantom shaving kit, gold watch, binoculars, ring, and so on.
Right after that loss, I replaced the BMW luggage cases with aluminium Jesse cases that couldn't fall off- their ads showed the bike being lifted by the luggage mounts. I was never able to trust the BMW cases again.
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  p133
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 09, 2019, 11:50:35 AM
And yet, the alternative- just staying somewhere and resting- had zero appeal. Another chorus of "What's the most excellent thing I can do today?" the answer would never be "lounging in a hotel room or on the bus." I did not believe that resting in a hotel room for one day was going to that level of stress and exhaustion, the prescription of "rest" is measured in days and weeks, not hours. And sometimes the definition of rest is measured in miles.
Only three situations had ever made me decide not to ride. A lightning storm in Missouri, a snowstorm in Tennessee, and August 10, the date of Selena's death. After 1997, for many years I hide in a hotel room and seek oblivion. After seventeen years, I can just about get through that day, but it is always veiled in the dark scrim all grievers know about.
Otherwise, the roads called to me, the map called to me- the lanes of New England as much as the Appalachians or the West. And I did find a kind of peace there.
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  p176
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 10, 2019, 11:09:36 AM
Not that there are any guarantees anywhere, with robbers or cops. As a counterpoint to "Miracle in Colorado", I can offer the tale of "Entrapment in Ohio". A couple of tours ago Michael and I were riding into Columbus and for the "final approach" I accidentally led us onto the divided four-lane state highway rather than the interstate we wanted. We only had forty miles to go, so I decided to stay with it despite the annoyances I have cited before: low speed limit, frequent intersections, overeager law enforcement. After about twenty miles the putting along was getting to me, and when a pickup went speeding by us on the left, I thought, "Must be a local, probably knows what he's doing." So I led us in behind him as he cruised at about eighty. A mile or two later my heart froze at the sight of a row of black-and-whites at the side of the road and a line of troopers pointing us in.
The pickup pulled to the shoulder ahead of us, but I was surprised to see it driving away after less than a minute. Meanwhile Michael and I were written up "to the full extent of the law", and did not ride away until almost thirty minutes later. The trooper's good humour did not stretch to knocking one mile per hour off the speed clocked by the air-plane pilot overhead. She handed me the ticket and said "Have a good show"- so recognising my name hadn't helped, either.
Looking back, no question it was a setup- aircraft circling above that cursed road while an officer in a "civilian" vehicle lured outsiders into speeding. Both shameful and shameless- as the Ohio State Patrol has been known to be forever. I should have known better.
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  p180
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 11, 2019, 10:07:38 AM
I started riding motorcycles twenty years ago, after taking a motorcycle safety course at Humber College in Toronto. Two life-saving acronyms have stayed with me- indeed, become automatic parts of my mindset on the bike. One is ATGATT, for All the Gear All the Time, and SIPDE, for Scan, Identify, Predict, Decide, Execute. Scan the traffic to identify potential hazards, predict other drivers' reactions, decide on a defensive strategy, and do it.
Another constant game is "What if?"- creating imaginary scenarios in surrounding traffic and considering alternatives. I say to myself, "Never let it be your fault", which is the same thing as saying "Don't make it easy".
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  p182
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 12, 2019, 12:05:11 PM
One technique I had been watching Brian do, and learning to imitate myself, was banking the motorcycle over in corners on gravel and spinning the rear wheel to make the turn. Following behind him for a while, I saw those skid marks arcing through every corner- a typical dirt-bike technique, steering with the throttle and using the rear wheelspin to keep up your cornering speed. It was fun and effective, and I was soon doing it fairly well, but it took me into a zone where I needed new braking techniques, too.
That I learned the hard way, powering into a bend a little too quickly then trying to slow by using only the rear brake, as you would usually do on a loose surface. However, at speed, with the wheel already deliberately breaking traction, it was a bad idea. Because the back tire was no longer "hooked up", it only skittered over the surface, and the bike began to slew around, out of control. The edge of the road and the wall of pine trunks suddenly seemed very close, and I was sure I wasn't going to make it. Fear lit me up inside like electricity. Eventually I regained my balance and got back on the throttle, and managed to just slip along the edge of the gravel. That sense of imminent death shook me up for a while.
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  pp206-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 13, 2019, 03:36:48 PM
One time the purple line led us past an imposing barricade- a gate of heavy iron tubes painted yellow. Fatefully, it happened to be open just then, with a corporate pickup parked just on the other side. Probably a logging company surveyor, I realised later. Dingus pointed onward, so onward I led us. However, a considerable time and distance later, we came upon a similar barricade- only this one was closed. I checked the padlock- it was hefty, and shackled. I scanned the woods to either side, but boulders had been placed at each end of the barricade to stop people like us getting around them. Any other way out would be a long way back- and even that open gate we'd passed through might be locked again now.
Michael said, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
"I said, "I'm readin' your mail."
This image, for once, looks worse than it was. We decided to lay the bikes down, remove one of the luggage cases and mirror, then slide them under the barricade. We did it, and it was good. A fist-bump celebrated our triumph against The Man.
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  p236
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 14, 2019, 09:18:52 AM
In late afternoon I sat on a white plastic chair in front of my room with the usual journal, camera, and plastic cup of The Macallan on ice. I looked out past our parked motorcycles (on their sidestands because gravel) at the occasional traffic on Route 66, behind to the Santa Fe railroad and long freight trains at intervals, and behind that to Interstate 40 and its whining semis. The story of the modern Southwest right there, really.
The overloaded old van and trailer on the highway behind the motorcycles reminded me of a modern-day version of the Joads in The Grapes of Wrath. They fled the Oklahoma Dust Bowl with all the possessions they could carry on their old car and struggled west on this same Mother Road in the 1930s. The train reminded me of the great Bob Dylan title, "It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry".
Far And Wide  Neil Peart  pp260-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 18, 2019, 12:05:06 AM
It wasn't so unusual to find a note on the bike. Riding in London you get to recognise certain motorcycles and in the small community of overland riders it is not uncommon to know someone's bike by sight, whether or not you are acquainted with the owner, and to make comradely contact. Mine had all the identifying marks of a well-travelled machine - large capacity 'desert' tank, sheepskin seat, scruffy panniers, a few foreign stickers, general tatty, battered appearance, not to mention an oil leak that was currently soiling the streets of SW7. For a fellow motorcycle traveller to say hello in this way wouldn't be considered strange. But the mysterious Habib made no reference to his own motorcycle travels or ownership. I wondered if he was a member of the embassy staff, but as far as I knew they had all been bundled on to a hastily chartered Iran Air flight out of Heathrow a few days ago. Maybe he was just a regular Iranian living in London, distressed at the recent bust-up between his homeland and his adopted country.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 18, 2019, 04:39:27 PM
My arrival in Ankara, the functional, if rather dreary, capital of Turkey, stilled my fevered imagination and offered an agreeable if less theatrical, answer to my problem: the Trans-Asia Express, a weekly rail service between there and Tehran. Its first Iranian destination was Tabriz, the north-western city just over the frontier that I had planned as my first stop. For the price of a few kebabs I could put myself and my bike on the train across the rest of Turkey and be deposited just inside Iran, 1,000 miles away. Hopefully once there, I could slip the bike out of the guard's van and be on my way, no questions asked. There was a time when my younger motorcycling self, who valued the notion of purism, would have been aggrieved by interrupting the ride like this. Purism be damned! Outwitting the Iranian authorities was my priority, and besides, as a secret railway fan, I was geekily excited about the idea of riding such a romantically titled train.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce p15
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 19, 2019, 01:00:33 PM
"Benzin?" I said pointing at the tank, smiling weakly at a guy in petrol company overalls who was standing with the pump in his hand, gaping at me, unabashed. I had never felt so exposed and awkward. The men kept staring, standing at a wary distance in silence.
I attempted to ask directions to the Tehran highway but my pronunciation was poor enough to perplex them even further.
After a while someone grasped the problem.
"Aah, Tehran."
OK, emphasis on first syllable. This was important.
The frozen statues became animated. What man can resist being asked directions? There was much arm-waving and circular motions that I guessed indicated a roundabout, and lots of pointing and rapid Persian. I grasped a vague idea of what I should be doing and replicated their motions for approval - straight ahead, right at the roundabout? The men had abandoned their vehicles now and were gathering around while still maintaining a polite gap between us. When it transpired I had understood the directions correctly, their faces opened up into smiles and laughter and I rode away to the sound of their clapping and cheering. Maybe it was all going to be fine after all. But still, the freak-show sensation was not a pleasant one.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce pp56-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 22, 2019, 09:37:31 AM
The physical nature of forcing a 120-kilogram motorcycle through a snowdrift meant that I was at least keeping my blood flowing and my heart pumping, which kept my toes from freezing solid, but my heart was banging in a whole different way when an hour later all I could see ahead was more white - smooth and endless in every direction. The only sign of life was an eagle dipping and swooping high above, but it soon disappeared into the white. I feared I had become disorientated and my thoughts raced with all the possible catastrophic endings that awaited me. When at last I spotted the faint shape of a structure in the distance, relief rushed through me, and with it a new surge of energy I pushed and shoved and heaved and panted towards this evidence of human agency. I realised that I was looking at the squat shape of the caravanserai, the most welcome shelter in what felt at that moment like the world's loneliest outpost. I could almost have thrown a stone into its courtyard, but as I pushed and heaved some more I realised that the truth was, there was no way I was going to be able to reach the building. The snow ahead was so thick, so heavy and deep, that I simply did not possess the physical force required to shove my way through.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce pp87-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 24, 2019, 09:50:23 AM
This time my crossing of the Alborz was on a brand new road with spectacular views, but there wasn't much opportunity to enjoy scenery as my full quota of concentration was required for dodging and tackling fellow road users. It was a mystery to me how the Iranians, so warm and helpful in person, became lethal maniacs behind the wheel. Cars, trucks and buses tore past at terrific speeds, so close I wobbled in their slipstreams. Often drivers would be yelling words of encouragement out of their windows, giving me the thumbs up, or even filming me on their mobile phones as they simultaneously forced me into the ditch. I mentioned the phenomenon to a few people in passing when I stopped for tea and fuel, and was met with laughter and cheerful boasts that Iran had the highest rate of road deaths and injuries in the world. It seemed churlish to complain in the face of such national pride.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce p102
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 25, 2019, 12:01:25 PM
Like a wild animal preparing for attack, teeth bared, all senses in overdrive, I charged into the Tehran traffic. Every muscle in my body tensed, switched to fight or flight mode, until I realised my mistake - it was fight and flight that was required here. At top speed, one eye on my maps, the other pretty much everywhere else, I weaved, ducked, dodged and yelled my way into this most unholy of capital cities. Twelve million people in their horn-blasting, fume-spewing bangers, all playing the same fast violent game. It's hard not to take it personally, but once I had altered my western road user's mindset and understood that none of Tehran's drivers were actually trying to kill me, it made it slightly easier. I simply had to learn to ride like an Iranian. This meant the only rule I needed to understand is that there are no rules: red traffic lights are advisory rather than obligatory, four lanes marked on the road actually means seven in reality, and no vehicle should ever be further than one inch away from another. Breathing deeply as another maniacal taxi driver hurtled towards me, I trawled my past travels for motivation and reassurance. Remember Kinshasa? Guatemala City... C'mon, you can do this! Istanbul, just a few weeks earlier, had seemed like hell on earth but now felt like a dawdle through Toytown. None of them compared to this insanity.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce pp121-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 26, 2019, 12:52:16 PM
When the time came to say goodbye to Issa I had to quell my natural urge to give him a hug. We had bonded easily and warmly and I had felt an instant connection with him. Here was a man from a different era, continent and culture but, as I was well aware from my time on the road, the camaraderie of motorcycle travellers does not recognise such borders. However in the Islamic Republic there could be no hug, not even a friendly pat on the shoulder; we couldn't even shake hands. I sensed Issa felt the same but, unable to act upon our human instincts, we just stood facing each other, about three feet apart, and bid each other farewell. With his right hand to his heart he gently bowed his head, wishing me good luck on my travels in Iran and extending an invitation to visit him at his home in Tehran any time. I dearly hoped we would meet again somewhere.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce p146
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 27, 2019, 04:11:38 PM
It was a minibus with blacked-out windows and was barrelling along at a terrific speed. I assumed it would overtake me at the last minute, in typical reckless Iranian style. At the same moment I saw there were roadworks immediately ahead, with the two-lane highway narrowing to one lane. The bus showed no signs of slowing down, in fact, it was speeding up. We were both gunning for the same space. The traffic cones cut across the lane in front of me and the road workers, with a clear view of what was about to happen waved panicked arms, motioning for me to move out of the way. But with the roadworks looming, there was nowhere to go, no hard shoulder or verge. The bus was gaining on me. For a moment everything went into slow motion; I watched over my shoulder as the bus accelerated towards me, engine screaming. At the last minute my brain snapped into gear and I launched my bike out of its path, crashing through the cones and barriers into the work zone and skidding to a halt, only just managing to remain upright. The bus missed me by an inch, showering me with gravel as it flew past. The road workers stood around me, staring after it, shaking their heads, equally confused by what they had just witnessed.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce p162
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 28, 2019, 08:50:27 AM
Another way to fox a village policeman is with piles of important-looking paperwork in a foreign language. Of this I had reams. His lips moved as he squinted at each page of official documentation, trying to hide his confusion. The men of the village were watching his every move, so he made an exaggerated fuss of comparing my registration plate with the papers, even though he clearly had no idea what he was looking at. Some of the men started calling out instructions or advice, or maybe they were taunting him. It was hard to tell. But his reaction was to start throwing his weight about even more, barking orders at me and waiving the papers in my face. I was in the middle of a cock-fight for which I had little enthusiasm. But what I lacked in upper-class bossiness I made up for in horsepower. Taking the papers from his hand, I stuffed them down the front of my jacket and before he knew what was happening, I was disappearing up the hill, safe in the knowledge that his little bike would never catch me. I could hear the jeers and a roar of laughter from the crowd as I rode away. I almost felt a bit sorry for him.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce p187
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 29, 2019, 09:23:53 AM
My plan would have worked if they hadn't started a cat-and-mouse game. My heart quickened as they overtook me before suddenly swerving into my path, trying to force me to stop. I dodged around them and kept going. They dropped behind again but stayed close, sticking behind me for another mile or so. Then they were pulling in front of me again, giving me no choice but to veer off onto the rocky verge. The road was empty, no other vehicles, no signs of civilisation in sight. I felt sick with fear, wondering what to do, imagining the worst and reliving the attack at the petrol station. I wanted to scream Just leave me alone! Then they came up alongside, lowering the window, shouting motioning for me to pull over. They were so close, I could have reached out and touched them. Suddenly, without warning, they swung in front of me, forcing me to plunge down the bank to avoid smashing head first into the side of their truck. I came to a wobbly halt at the bottom of the ditch and looked up to see that they had stopped ahead of me and were now reversing back at speed. I was stuck in the gully, trapped. Then the two men jumped out of the cab and came running at me.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce p217
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 30, 2019, 04:04:05 PM
In moments of fear, time can seem to freeze or go into slow-motion, but in this instance, the opposite happened. Everything moved quickly, like a film on fast-forward. They were racing towards me gabbling as if the sound had sped-up too, their arms outstretched, holding something I could not make out. My fear turned to anger and I started shouting and swearing at them to leave me alone. I'd done too much of this lately, too much shouting and swearing. I was sick and tired of it all, sick and tired of being alone and exposed, intimidated and stared at, and these guys were going to feel the full force of my anger and fear. I yelled at them again to back off. Then I saw them shaking their heads, their faces breaking into great dazzling smiles, their eyes eager, sparkling with excitement. And then I saw what they were holding in their hands. And I cringed.
The younger man stopped in front of me. He was skinny and ragged, visibly poor. He spoke a few words of English.
"We see you. We like to speak with you. We have food for you."
He thrust two bags of fruit into my hands. The older man had bottles of water for me.
"Welcome... to... Iran," said the older man carefully, as if he had been practising the phrase for the last two miles.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce pp217-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 31, 2019, 10:04:44 AM
As I left Yazd, I was aware that I was embarking on the final leg of my Iranian adventure. Shiraz, the city that had been calling me for so many months and thousands of miles, was finally in sight, no longer a mysterious faraway place but an achievable goal, just 300 miles away now. I allowed myself the thought that I really was going to make it.
Wanting to make the most of every precious day of my visa, reluctant to retrace any of my route back north to the Turkish border, I had planned to end my journey in Shiraz with just enough time to ship my bike home from there. My final plans were still undecided, and I mulled them over as I studied my route to Shiraz, plotting a purposely meandering course for my final days on the road. I settled on a network of back-country roads which took me over a vast dry lake bed, its salt crystals sparkling in the sun, before crossing a flat, rocky plateau with the remains of ancient forts and abandoned wells dotted along the roadside.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce p241
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 01, 2019, 04:52:43 PM
My heart gave its usual thud as I spotted a police car full of uniformed officers parked by a set of traffic lights. Did the Shiraz police force also live up to this laidback reputation? My thudding heart sank as the lights turned red, forcing me to sit there, next to the police car, while the traffic streamed and weaved across the junction in front of me for what felt like an age. But the police weren't interested in me. It was the fruit seller next to them was staring, mouth agape. He edged closer, eyebrows knitting in bemusement that verged on disbelief. I did my best to ignore him. Then he turned to the police, waving to attract their attention, then back to me again. I stayed focused on the road ahead, a nervous jiggle taking over my leg as I silently urged the lights to change. Hassle with the Iranian police was the last thing I needed at the end of my journey.
Red turned to green and I pulled away with a spurt of nervous throttle, glancing back over my shoulder. The fruit seller was pointing after me, and now he had the policemen's attention, they had stepped out of the car. I just caught the amazement in his expression and the laughter erupting on the policemen's face as the fruit seller pointed after me, made the universal motorcycle throttle action and then squeezed an imaginary pair of breasts on his chest. As I disappeared into the turmoil of Shiraz traffic, I noted with pleasure that his fruit stall had consisted of nothing but an enormous pile of melons.
Revolutionary Ride  Lois Pryce p254
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 05, 2019, 09:53:01 AM
I looked on Google Maps to work out distances and get a rough idea of how long it would take us to get from town A to town B. I guess anyone who knows how to use a computer uses Google Maps when planning any kind of trip; there's no disputing the fact that they're a huge asset. The problem is that, for time and distance planning, they work things out on the basis of, 'It's 153 km from Mumbai to Pune on a new expressway. Travelling at an average speed of around 70-75 kph, it will take about two hours to go from Hotel A in Mumbai to Hotel B in Pune'. It's a reasonable calculation, if all goes well, and that's probably approximately how long the expressway part of the journey will take you. But... what hasn't been factored into the equation are the two hours it'll take you just to get out of Mumbai, and the other hour you'll be driving round Pune in ridiculous traffic trying to find Hotel B. Consequently, the reality is that your journey of 153 km is going to take more like five or six hours. The sun goes down at 6 p.m., so, because you left Mumbai at a time commensurate with the expectation of the journey taking three hours max, you'll be driving into Pune at dusk, when the traffic is even more dangerous than it is at every other time of the day- none of which we knew when we were planning the India Ride.
The India Ride  Colin Pyle  p18
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 06, 2019, 10:35:14 AM
For reasons of cost, we always tried to stay two people to a room, but the hotel in Shimla had only four single rooms, each of which contained a damp bed, a DIY shower that basically consisted of a bucket and a spoon, a very nasty bath tub, an even nastier toilet, and, in the case of my room, a discarded condom wrapper. We were exhausted; all we wanted was to have a shower in a clean bathroom, eat, and then fall asleep in a comfortable bed, which made finding ourselves in a hotel like that even more disheartening than it might otherwise have been. It wasn't a great start to our journey.
We were paying what, in India, amounted to a fairly substantial price for those rooms, certainly enough to expect there to be soap and shampoo in the bathroom. So I was irritated when I had to call down to reception to ask for some. A few minutes later, I was standing butt naked in the shower, trying to wash off the day's grime by ladling cold water from a bucket over my head, when I heard the bedroom door open. Before I'd had a chance to react, a guy walked into the bathroom and handed me some soap!
The India Ride  Colin Pyle  p41
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 07, 2019, 10:09:43 AM
Then, as we dropped down out of the mountains, the traffic became heavier. It was mostly trucks and massive lorries rather than local cars; but the vehicles we really had to watch out for were the buses, whose drivers seemed to have no concept of cause and effect and no fear of death.
In addition to the bus drivers, we had torrential rain to contend with- and all the potential hazards that come with it. Some 90% of the rain that falls in Rajasthan does so between July and September, when the arid, low-lying desert region is transformed into a raging torrent of flood water; we had a small taste of what that was like when we were there. As we drove across the seemingly endless, flat landscape, we could see the rainstorms coming toward us while they were still some distance away. We'd watch the sky slowly darken and then, just before the first massive raindrops began to fall, we'd stop and put on our rain suits. For the next forty minutes after we set off again, we'd barely be able to see the road in front of us.
Riding in torrential rain on any road surface in any conditions is dangerous and tiring. Riding in torrential rain on roads that are being constantly and randomly crossed by cows and, now, camels, as well as by bicycles and tuk-tuks that are vying for road space with the trucks and buses, is lethal.
The India Ride  Colin Pyle  p72
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 08, 2019, 01:34:44 PM
So when you finally arrive at the hotel, knowing that all the things you've been imagining for the last few exhausting hours are now just a few steps away, on the other side of a set of glass doors, and then you look up to find a security guard standing in front of you like some belligerent St Peter at the gates of heaven, you tend to lose your cool. Every time it's happened, it's almost as if some switch flicks on inside my head, making me absolutely determined that I'm going to do this thing my way.
Where discrimination against motorcycles and motorcyclists exists, it tends to be non-specific: I'm sure if Tom Cruise rode up to one of these hotels riding the most expensive motorcycle money can buy, he'd be told exactly the same thing as we were told- "No two wheels allowed at hotel entrance." What I actually heard every time it was said to us was, "If you're on a two-wheeler, you're a second-class citizen. So park your bike over there!"
Colin and I would arrive at the hotels very tired and dirty and the last thing we wanted on those occasions was to get embroiled in some ridiculous, frustratingly pointless argument. The more often it happened, the more it mattered to me, and the more I wanted to shout at the guy, "Get out of my way and let me check in!"
The India Ride  Colin Pyle  p103
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 09, 2019, 03:30:23 PM
When you're stuck in traffic doing 10 kph in the sort of temperatures we were experiencing, the air flowing through the ventilation system in your motorcycle jacket is incredibly hot. And when your body's already cooking and you can barely breathe, your mind isn't as sharp as it would otherwise be, which is a real problem at any speed when kids and dogs and cattle and tuk-tuks are constantly testing fate right in front of you.
At 5 o'clock in the afternoon on day 24, Colin and I pulled over to the side of the road to drink some water and try to breathe. A few minutes later, as Chad and Dan pulled in behind us, I suddenly felt the last remnants of energy drain out of me. We'd been locked for days in a relentless battle against the suffocating heat, the horrific road conditions, and the chaotic, unremitting, incredibly dangerous traffic. There wasn't any part of my body that didn't ache and I couldn't think of one single positive aspect of what we were doing. Foolishly perhaps, I told myself that nothing could possibly happen that would make things any worse. Completely shattered, I lay down on the dusty ground beside the SUV and fell instantly into a deep, exhausted sleep. I don't think anything short of a full-scale hurricane would have kept me awake at that moment.
The India Ride  Colin Pyle  p127
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 10, 2019, 12:57:15 PM
Perhaps it's because Indians have a different concept of time that they tend to be so patient. I don't mind waiting for a legitimate reason- if there's an accident, for example- but having to wait for a stupid reason makes me mad. All it needs when there's road construction is for someone to put up a traffic light so that cars going in one direction have right of way for five minutes, and then cars going in the other direction have priority. They don't do that in India, so it ends up in a potentially lethal game of chicken before it all grinds to a halt and no one goes anywhere. I guess even if someone did put up a traffic light, the drivers wouldn't take any notice of it unless the police were there to enforce it, which is unlikely, as no one ever seems to enforce anything in India.
I sound bitter and negative, I know; I don't want to be particularly when there were so many incredibly positive and heart-warming aspects of India and we met so many amazing people there. It was just that being stuck in a completely unnecessary traffic jam was infuriating and epitomized another, totally unfathomable, face of a country of many contrasts and contradictions. But I suppose people everywhere do stupid things that seem inexplicable to the people who do different stupid things, because we all do something stupid, whether it's smoking, drinking too much, or jumping off a mountain attached to a parachute and to some guy you've just met and about whom you know absolutely nothing!
The India Ride  Colin Pyle  pp150-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 11, 2019, 09:43:31 AM
For nearly eight weeks, we'd been tested on a daily basis by physical illness, mental exhaustion, crazy traffic, and intense heat- on many occasions, almost to breaking point. Making our way round India on motorcycles had been a grand idea, and I think there was a part of me that was amazed- and perhaps surprised- that we'd actually made it. It was a good feeling, knowing that we'd set ourselves a difficult task and we'd completed it, safely and, in the end, efficiently. By the time we were standing once again at the India Gate, we felt pretty confident that we could do almost anything we set our minds to doing.
When photographs had been taken and we'd got some film footage of the journey's end, we had a nerve-racking thirty- minute drive to the hotel, where Colin and I did our last video diaries, showered, ordered pizza, and went to bed at 8.30, shattered but jubilant.
The India Ride  Colin Pyle  p186
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 04, 2019, 05:53:10 PM
There has been a month's recess as I have been reading other books.  I have two new ones to start excerpting, but there is a little holiday intervening.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 15, 2019, 12:29:31 PM
My nerves were at fever pitch. The date was set, and the only thing left to do was ship the bike to Toronto. This part, while expensive was easy. I dropped the bike off with James Cargo in London with all my kit about ten days before I was due to fly out. I had the rough timelines for the trip worked out, I wrote in my diary, "I plan to take 59 days to complete the USA and Canada leg. Fourteen days through Mexico, another fourteen through Central America and the rest in South America finishing hopefully in time tor Christmas!" I structured the journey this way because in my head I reckoned I could do North America again when I was fifty-five if I wanted to. The bigger challenge would be Central and South America so it would better to allocate the majority of time there.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  pp11-12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 16, 2019, 09:30:29 AM
I nicknamed the bike "Molly" which I later changed to Sam Gamgee, I was Frodo. What happened to Luke Skywalker? What happened to Han Solo? Well, I decided that I was going to be a mixture of Frodo, Conan, Luke Skywalker, Han Solo, Jason Bourne, James Bond and Frodo, and no I don't think that's too many heroes to combine into one persona. The week before I left, I completed the last mandatory task before undertaking any adventure, I went out on the rip. After about fifteen pints and multiple "You re gonna get raped by FARC rebels, you know that don't ya!" type statements from my mates, the last task before travelling was complete.
With my flight merely hours away, I sat on the couch in my sitting room drinking a cup of tea while looking out the window at the rain doing its best to break the glass. I asked myself "Am I ready?" I kept replaying a quote I'd read in my head, "The only way you'll ever be 100% prepared for a trip like this is to have done it before."
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  p12
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 17, 2019, 09:54:24 AM
It was here I had my first "nearly killed" moment. There were two big eighteen wheelers blocking the highway doing about 50mph, they were talking to each other as they were driving up the road and no one could get by. This went on and on for 40 miles or more and yours truly not being known for his patience, especially while getting the shit kicked out of him by both the wind and the turbulence from the juggernauts was quickly losing the rag. I decided to bomb up a very skinny hard shoulder to the right at close to 100mph and flew by the lads in the trucks, giving it a bit of "yee hawww!" in the process. Later, a couple who saw me passing the trucks on the road, came up to me at a filling station where I had stopped for lunch and said that the trucker swerved for me as I was passing on the inside. They had called the police. I had to spend an hour or so talking to the cops who had arrived before I knew it. Most of the time was just spent talking to them about where I was off to I didn't really want to bring up the fact that I used the hard shoulder as my own private race track. We chatted for a good while and to be honest I was glad of the company.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  p37
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 18, 2019, 09:30:33 AM
I arrived in Anchorage the next day with 23 days and 7,678 miles on the clock and started to find out about getting the bike serviced. At this point I was still in a work frame of mind, "Let's go, c'mon man got to make up the miles," so was looking for a pit stop to get the bike prepared for the Dalton highway rather than a place to hang out for a couple of days. It takes time to learn to how to relax, I think. About a week into the trip I started to get less worried about the time and after two weeks I had completely forgotten about it. As the third week had progressed I started to forget what day it was but I think a month had passed before I stopped thinking about schedules or distances and really started to just enjoy the ride and forget about the destination.
I didn't care for Anchorage, its a good city but its not why people go to Alaska. It's a town like every other town in the States so after spending three days there getting the bike fixed up I was more than ready to get going again. The highlight that sticks in the memory happened on a bus tour of the town. A girl tour guide told the bus that there were twice as many men living in Alaska as women which she qualified with "While the odds are very good for us women, unfortunately the goods very are odd!"
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  pp60-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 19, 2019, 12:02:13 PM
Since I got the bike serviced in wanker-works near Calgary there was a rattle whenever I'd get towards 4000rpm. On a trip like this you're completely and utterly dependent on the bike, I had to bite the bullet and drive to a BMW dealer in Helena Montana, a day's ride of a detour all told. On top of that, I lost Rafael that day, he was in a bad mood as a result of some bad news from home about his business and I'm not sure that he didn't just want to be on his own anyway, one way or another I was back on my own and feeling more than a bit blue. I got to BMW in Helena and a guy called John, armed with a stethoscope came out and started using it to listen to the engine. Within about three minutes he'd found the source of the problem and five minutes later had it fixed. It is great see guys who really know their game in action. It was amazing how my mood tended to match the bike's condition; if the bike was in great shape I felt great, if there was anything wrong with it at all, I turned into a freak show.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  p91
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 20, 2019, 09:16:58 AM
Inadvertently I'd picked one of the most scenic areas to drive through in Northern Mexico, the Ruta Sierra. The scenery was top notch, but all I wanted to do was to get as far away from the border as possible, so if I'm honest I was a bit too nervous to enjoy it. The advice on Mexico I'd been given was that as long as you "Get the hell out of the border areas! you should be fine." The speed limit on the roads was 80kph, a speed most three legged donkeys could do, so I ended up ignoring the limit and tipping along at about a 100kph.
In the first day, I was stopped three times by customs, the army and finally the police and none of them were for speeding. The customs guy was checking for the motorcycle permit, the army was checking for drugs and while they were talking to me, were busy with two North American girls whose stuff was all over the road, and finally the police were just stopping me to say hello and wondered where I was from and then what football team I supported.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  p111
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 21, 2019, 09:27:54 AM
When I finally got to Oaxaca, I realized that one of my bags was gone. No doubt, it was shaken off due to all the bumps and potholes. What was in it? All my memory cards holding the pictures of the trip so far, my laptop, my journal where I kept all the trip logs, a copy of all my confidential information, Spanish books, maps and a copy of Lord of the Rings which I'd bought in Phoenix. I lost the rag completely, I had lost all the original records of the trip so far apart from what was posted on my blog site and I had no one to blame but myself. Its not like I didn't know the roads were crap there, but because it was raining I rushed packing up my stuff. I lost thousands of pictures of parts of the world I was unlikely ever to see again, it was a sore blow. Worse was to come.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  p134
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 22, 2019, 11:55:26 AM
The next morning started with a dose of the trots, Central American style. I woke up and had one of those "Three seconds to detonation" signals from my rectum, sprinting to the toilet and getting my arse hanging over the porcelain in the nick of time. For about thirty minutes, I was doing a fantastic impression of an upside down busted fire hydrant with intermittent machine gun fire. The whole time this was going on, in the hotel courtyard which all the rooms surrounded, the hotel pet parrot kept saying, "Hola!" "Hola!" As I sat there flexing my stomach muscles so my heart wouldn't plunge out along with the rest of my alimentary canal, I thought to myself "wheres a good oul cat when you need one?"
I gingerly packed up, every couple of seconds mournfully glancing at the toilet while trying to make sure there were no more fires in the hole. I left the room and as I opened the door I realized the bog window also faced out onto the courtyard where there were three or four old women having breakfast. They all gave me a sympathetic look while breathing in sharply through their teeth.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  pp151-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 23, 2019, 09:24:45 AM
The people in the city are not that friendly, but that's the same in all cities I guess. It was obvious that people didn't seem to be happy. Hardly anyone seemed to smile. Now before someone chimes in with "if you smile at the world it'll smile back," I was in great form. I had the bike back so it wasn't me projecting a bad mood, but I was sure it would be a lot better in the countryside. After spending two days in Bogota I said to myself, "There is no way you'd ever come here if it wasn't because it's the only place in Colombia you can fly the bike into." My impression was that it's a dark, depressing, miserable sort of place. The paranoia on safety was also bit off-putting- the taxi guy and another lad in the hotel had put the fear of God into me, both recommended calling into the police in various towns to let them know you're there. I tried an Irish bar to see if there was anything going on, but no joy. On top of serving crappy food with Irish names, it had all the cheer of a freshly gelded bull.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  p179
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 24, 2019, 11:56:55 AM
I had learned my lesson from the first incident in Mexico. I had left at least fifteen feet of room in front of me to give me somewhere to go, and I had a lump hammer in my tank bag. The first lad showed up under the guise of begging and approached me on my left side. I was watching his friend closer who was circling to the right. I had replayed this situation in my mind a thousand times since Mexico, what would I do if it happened again? The guy on my right was carrying a big stick, nothing more. I wasn't too worried about the stick, the enduro suit with gloves and helmet left me well protected. With the bike in neutral, I kicked down the stand in anticipation of the guy on the left pulling at my side, and with my right hand whipped out the hammer and swung wildly, "Come near me and I'll do ya!"
The guy on the right then cracked the stick off my shoulder. I jumped off the bike and ran about ten steps towards him with the hammer lofted above my head, "Get away from me!" No sooner had I roared it when four of the folks who were in traffic behind me jumped out of their cars and ran for the two muck birds, who then ran off. There we were, me and a bunch of lads from Colombia shaking hands saluting our victory with about half a mile of traffic stopped behind us- it's a moment I'll never forget. As the horns started to go, we all headed off. As I was driving up the road at least ten cars beeped the horn at me as they passed. I felt like Thor!
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  pp194-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 25, 2019, 09:27:59 AM
I stopped for lunch at a small roadside restaurant in the mountains (four tables with a tin roof) and the family took me into the back, sat me down at their table and made me lunch. None of them had a word of English but we got along great! The amazing thing was that these people survive on way less than fifty dollars a week and there they were sharing out the grub refusing to take any money from me. The Colombians are amazing. Imagine that, you're as poor as a church mouse and you're still sharing with a complete stranger. I just had to do something to return the favour so I made an excuse that I was meeting "mucho amigos" down he road and bought ten bottles of diet coke, crisps and chocolate bars from their shop. About twenty minutes down the road I met some folks on the side of the road and gave them the goodies, they looked as though all their birthdays had come together.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  p203
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 26, 2019, 08:54:56 AM
I left Copacabana early. I knew it was a short run to La Paz and I wanted to get there early and do a bit of sightseeing. As I was leaving the town, I was "clothes lined" by a police chain. I saw the check point but normally they just wave you through. It was cloudy and I was wearing sun glasses and as I hit the check point the chain hit the wind shield, then popped up off it and hit me knocking the crap out of my chest and throwing me off the bike. I wasn't going too fast but it hurt like a mother! I did my usual systems check, wriggle toes, ok, wriggle fingers, ok, put hand on lad, I can still feel it. I got up slowly, it felt like someone had dropped a cavity block on my chest. Sam Gamgee was fine as usual despite falling over on its side about eight yards down the road. After catching my breath and agreeing to go "Mas Despacio" (slower) I set off but there would be no cuddling of any women tonight, no change there so.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  p252
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 27, 2019, 09:29:45 AM
I drove north from Puerto Varas to Villarrica and cut east towards Bariloche in Argentina. I had reached my fifteenth and last country and the border crossing was a doddle.
The drive towards Bariloche would make you want to leave Ireland and move there instantly. The people living in this part of the world were spoilt rotten with incredible scenery. Snow capped mountains, rivers, blue crystal clear lakes, blue skies, no matter which way I looked I was confronted with an awesome display of nature at its finest. I was feeling like everything I'd done up to this point was merely"existing"! At last I was living, and I wished this day would never end.
Sure, I was on my own, but I was happy.
I then started to wonder how was it possible to be so down in the morning and so up by the afternoon. Do the ups always follow the downs? The darkest hour is just before dawn I suppose, but I wondered if I wasn't just a bit mental.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  p293
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 28, 2019, 10:23:43 AM
One near-death experience happened while I was over-taking a truck. If you can imagine a straight stretch of road about a mile long with a truck ahead of you throwing up bits of rocks hitting your wind shield and visor with a savage cross wind blowing from the right. There was another truck a good distance up the road on the left side. This was the sort of overtaking maneuver you would do twenty times a day out on the road, and even in the wind it wouldn't normally be a problem. As I passed the truck ahead of me on its left side and was coming round to go back into my "lane" the wind picked up a massive gale and I couldn't get myself back into my lane with the other truck coming right for me with the air horn blaring. There was nothing else I could do but gun the bike into the ditch on the left. Normally putting the bike in the ditch would be followed quickly by a ride in an ambulance, but the ditch on a gravel road is a gravel hollow with tons of spare gravel knocking around. Acting purely on instinct I rode the bike down the ditch at about 50mph, scooted along the bottom of the ditch gunning the bike down to second gear in the process, and steered it back up onto the road even taking the time to indicate and continued down the road. About a mile up the road, I pulled over and kicked down the side stand. I took off the helmet, glasses and gloves and as the realization of what had just happened came to me, it was all I could do to not throw up.
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  p304
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 29, 2019, 01:03:48 PM
My Dad collected me and drove me home to Portarlington. I dropped my bags at the door and went up to bed to catch some Zs. I lay on the bed on the verge of sleep, my eyes held open by the realization that it was all over.
About two weeks later, Sam Gamgee arrived at the airport, I unpacked him and drove home and put him in my conservatory never to be ridden again. Sitting on top of the motorbike as he was the whole way with me through the trip is my pet rabbit cuddly toy named Mr Fluffykins, a gentleman rabbit if ever there was one.
Adjusting to life back in Ireland was hellish. The economy was in turmoil and it seemed like the whole world was imploding. I was back in my original job and it was like I'd never left. I finally understood why people were telling me to enjoy every last second of the trip. People's moods in Ireland seemed to be very low and lots of my friends had lost their job, in fact there were few if any whose jobs seemed to be safe. It all seemed a million miles away from the splendid isolation of the Ruta 40.
All in all, was it worth doing? Absolutely, I rate it as the best thing that's ever happened to me. As to whether I'd do it again, well, as it happens I did, but that story is for another time. My strong advice to you if you are considering doing something like this, just do it. Don't live your life saying, "If Only".
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  pp318-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 30, 2019, 09:37:42 AM
I'm often asked whether the trip changed me, and the answer is definitely, although not in the way I was expecting.
I have always been a very social animal, very outgoing and happier with groups of people rather than being on my own. After the amount of time I spent by myself on the trip often going weeks without having a conversation with anyone, I'm now completely comfortable with my own company, happier in my own skin I guess. I look back now and realize that I was on that road searching for what we are all searching for- happiness. I didn't find it, but I know now, you have to bring it with you.
I often wonder how I survived so many near-death experiences on the trip; I can only guess that someone was looking after me and that friends and family were praying for me. A final thought. Were you ever driving down the road and saw a guy riding an overloaded bike and thought to yourself, "Where's he off to I wonder?" Well, maybe it was me, and now you know!
That I May Die Roaming  Oisin Hughes  pp319-20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 01, 2019, 10:06:08 AM
We passed markets where trays of live fish flapped and gasped at the roadside, zipped down side streets, and dived into boy racer shops bustling with gelled heads and chains. When the tyres eluded us I bought the Hero a Sex Pistols sticker instead, the closest thing I could find to a Union Jack. In the fusty offices of an insurance company, where plump workers typed idly under Krishna calendars, Manash encouraged the woman with 400 rupees, around four pounds, to insure my bike. Had he not, it would have taken a week, instead of an hour, for her to do the job.
It was dusk before we found the right tyres, and two thin, grubby boys squatted barefoot in the street to fit them by the light of a mobile phone torch. I crouched on the pavement beside them, keen to see how it was done, only to be distracted by a pathetic, limping beggar who appeared beside me, babbling and holding out his hands for money. It was impossible not to feel sorry for him, so I handed over some notes and watched him hobble away, a poor pitiful creature, the sort you sadly see so many of in India.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  pp19-20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 02, 2019, 09:03:24 AM
On top of this was the small matter of the 2016 South Asian Games, the cycling events of which were being sweated out on the concrete of Highway 37 that day. Without warning, all the eastbound traffic was funnelled to the other side of the carriageway and I found myself riding through a corridor of cheering, brightly clad spectators, paunchy policemen and haphazardly erected bamboo fencing. Pumping and panting in the opposite direction was a straggling peloton of cyclists, finalists in the men's 40km individual time trial. One of them, a Pakistani, was closely followed by a moped, on the back of which perched a lady in an emerald-green sari riding side saddle, imperially upright, clutching a spare bicycle wheel. Behind came the follow cars, their official stickers pasted wonkily onto the doors as if stuck on late the previous after too much whisky. If Basil Fawlty had organized the Olympics, I imagine they'd look a bit like this. Soon the clamour passed and I was back on the eastbound carriageway, bemused by the surrealism of it all.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  pp31-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 03, 2019, 09:18:19 AM
Since it's impossible to apply for a permit for a single person to visit Arunachal Pradesh, Abhra's contact had added a mysterious Englishman called John Carter to my application. For all I knew John was fictitious. But as far as the soldiers were concerned John was real, and John had absconded without permission.
"Where John?" they kept asking, pointing to his name on the permit.
"Not here," I replied hesitantly, unsure whether admitting to travelling alone could land me in the nearest clink.
They looked around the bike mistrustfully and glanced up the empty road, as if checking I hadn't secreted John in a pannier, or hidden him behind a nearby bush. Only when they were satisfied I wasn't holding poor John hostage did they allow me to go on.
At the next checkpoint the soldier was ushered away by a plain-clothes gentleman in Ray-Bans and a leather jacket who was evidently "The Boss". But after a brief cross-examination about the whereabouts of John, he again waved me on.
"How many foreigners do you get through here?" I asked, before I left.
He looked confused, so I tried again. "When you last see English person here?"
"No, no!" he laughed. "You first Britisher I see. I only on TV before."
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  pp62-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 06, 2019, 08:26:49 PM
In an attempt to discourage me further he warned me that last year Huawei, a village near Walong, had been cut off for eight months due to landslides. But I didn't want to take the manager with me or be passed from man to man like some breakable foreign object. Although I was riding into increasingly remote and unknown territory, I wanted to travel alone. Solo travel is like a drug- it has its risks, but it also has the potential to unlock rare feelings of euphoria. Only when I've been totally alone, miles from anywhere or anyone I know, have I experienced its pure, unbridled joy. I wanted to eschew guides, to embrace the risks and the fears and go solo in this little-known land. I still had no idea if I could legally travel alone in Arunachal Pradesh, or what would happen if the police stopped me, but I wanted to at least try. Like Freddie Mercury, I wanted to break free- although in this case my longing didn't involve a Hoover and suspenders.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p99
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 07, 2019, 12:24:19 PM
It's funny how when you travel alone help often appears when you most need it. How fortunate I was that fate, or the universe, or whatever you want to call it, had put the young man and me on the same road at the same time.
In Tezu, Anilso led me to a small hotel beside the muddy marketplace, where I rode my dripping bike into a passage and squelched up the stairs. I would imagine Jacques Cousteau stayed drier on most days. Soaking clothes, mushy books, soggy porridge sachets and damp pack of pills were soon spread and hung over every surface of my tiny room, dripping onto the stone floor like a pack of wet dogs. As infernally rattly as my top box was, at least it had kept my laptop and camera dry. What I would have done for a hot shower, but the bathroom had only a squat loo, a cold tap and filthy net curtains.
Later I took Anilso out to dinner to say thank you. We sprinted through the shuttered marketplace, leaping over puddles, purple fingers of lightning streaking across the night sky. In a one-room shack where Mijus and Tibetans huddled around wooden tables, we ate hot, greasy, delicious chow mein by torchlight. Afterwards I lay on my hard, narrow bed with a celebratory Kingfisher beer, too tired to write my diary but elated to have made it through the storm and to be here, alone, in this grotty hotel on the far side of the world. As wet and filthy and horrid as today had been, I felt stronger for having endured it.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p109
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 08, 2019, 09:29:58 AM
By the time I reached a junction at the edge of town Edi had long ridden ahead of me and was nowhere to be seen. Confused as to which way to go, and distracted by a man on a motorbike who'd stopped abruptly to stare at me, I dropped my bike, swearing as it bashed my left shin and began to pour petrol into the dust. The man, whose rifle, leather jacket and black face-mask had been the cause of my distraction, immediately rushed over to help me, firing a series of questions at me as he did so.
"Where your guide? Why you alone? Where your permit?"
He was internal security, he explained, once the bike was upright, and I wasn't allowed to be in Anini without a guide. But it soon emerged that he was Edi's uncle, and Jibi's cousin, and related to Tine Mena, and before long we were chatting about how Jibi was, and my time at reh. Afterwards, he escorted me back to the Inspection Bungalow through Anini's confusing tangle of roads, and Edi- who'd ridden ahead to mend a puncture- was given an avuncular ticking-off for having left me.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p160
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 09, 2019, 10:59:55 AM
While the two men talked, Kabsang explained some of the vagaries of Indian road construction. The total length of the planned new road had been agreed as 90km, and was supposed to take six years to complete. But all along the route the actual kilometres constructed were inflated by various contractors so that they could make more money. Not to mention the numerous locals who popped a few rupees in the contractors' pockets to add a little loop here, avoid that patch of forest there. Already we'd seen evidence of numerous unnecessary 'zigs'- an insane waste of land and resources in the name of making more coin. It used to be a 30km walk from Tuting to here, but by the new road it was 60km.
"This is India!" chuckled Kabsang, noticing my shocked expression.
In response to renewed Chinese claims on Arunachai Pradesh, in October 2014 Modi announced a plan to build a 1,800km trans-state highway hugging the Chinese border. The Indo-China Frontier Highway, as the paper project is known, will supposedly cut from Tawang to Vijaynagar, across the currently impenetrable, unexplored northern rim of the state. Quite apart from the obvious environmental concerns of such a project, if the Pemako road was anything to go by, there'll be bowling alleys on Pluto before it's completed.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p216
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 10, 2019, 09:54:14 AM
It seemed only fair that my Hero have some attention too. It had been spluttering on the ride down from Yingkiong and the waterlogged horn had now given up the ghost completely. I wasn't in the mood for mechanics, so readily handed the keys to a lanky, enthusiastic teenage porter at the hotel when he offered to help, watching as he sprang onto the Hero and careered off to the local mechanic, my "Be nice to my bike!" falling on absent ears.
Feeling like a duchess, I retired to my room to sit on my chair, at my desk, and write. But I was disturbed five minutes later by a knock on the door. It was the porter, wide-eyed with urgency and panting slightly.
"Madam. I need one hundred and fifty rupees for oil change." I handed over the notes and, with a brisk head-wobble, he was off, dashing down the corridor like a terrier after a ball.
Five minutes later there was another rapid knock at the door.
"Madam, bike need new horn. Need extra four hundred and fifty rupees." I dug around in my pockets for a 500-rupee note, passing it to him without question.
He returned fifteen minutes later, breathing heavily and flushed with success. As evidence of his good-doings he held up the ruins of the old horn and handed me the bill, then off he galloped, happily pocketing his tip.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  pp253-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 11, 2019, 01:14:04 PM
As he ate, Tapir told me about various other meats he was partial to. Being an Adi, the list didn't exclude much. Crow, snake, elephant, bear, porcupine, barking deer, his friend's dog- he'd eaten them all.
"Your friend's dog!" I exclaimed, appalled. "What did your friend say about that?"
"He bring dog round for us to eat- he eat it too!" he laughed. "Oh, and many cat too. But I no like cat."
His favourite was a particular type of poisonous beetle the Adi literally go wild for. Eating these was a bit like a game of entomological Russian roulette; you popped the crunchy little morsels in your mouth whole and hoped it wasn't the one in a thousand that would kill you, put you in a coma or send you crazy. On telling me about this, Tapir shook with laughter.
"Sometime the poison make you think you beetle and many Adi hurt their heads trying to get under rocks. Doctors very angry and not treat people." It was a ludicrous vision.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  pp285-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 12, 2019, 10:30:29 AM
I stopped at the first place I came to in Dirang, a simple wooden lodge on a hillside overlooking the town, and immediately set to work on how to fix the Hero. Marley had told me that by stuffing electric wire inside the main jet of the carburettor and removing the air filter, I should be able to alter the fuel-to-air ratio sufficiently for my Hero to wheeze over the Pass. While the wire would restrict the fuel flow, removing the air filter would allow more oxygen to reach the engine. It was the equivalent of putting the bike on a homemade respirator.
Two hours later the amiable Nepali manager of the lodge had called a local mechanic and the three of us were squatting around the Hero, studying its carburettor by torchlight. I'd explained what I wanted done. Instead he'd checked the sparkplug and battery, listened to the engine and poked around the bike for other explanations for its sickness, while I hopped around behind him in frustration saying, "No- carburettor, carburettor!" But I was a woman, I couldn't possibly be right. Only when he failed to find anything else wrong did he reluctantly follow my instructions, screwing apart the carburettor to poke a length of thin copper wire inside the main jet.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p303
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 13, 2019, 12:24:07 PM
The memorial is a paean to one man's bravery. A bronze bust of Singh stands on a marble plinth in the middle of the temple-like complex and, beside it, in a glass box, is his immaculately made-up bed. The army treat him as if he's still alive, stationing six soldiers here at all times to attend to his every need. They serve him bed tea at 4.30 a.m., breakfast at nine and dinner at 7 p.m. His boots are polished every day, his bed made, his uniform ironed. He's even still awarded promotions. Every passing soldier stops here to pay their respects and legend has it that Singh can be seen guiding military convoys over the mountains in dangerous weather. The Monpa worship him too, believing him to be a local protector spirit. Whatever the truth, Singh's bravery provides the army with a useful diversion from the embarrassing reality of that thirty-day war. And for passers-by, it's a welcome chance for a free cup of tea and a samosa, lovingly baked by Singh's attendant soldiers.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p306
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 14, 2019, 03:12:36 PM
The gompa flickered in semi-darkness, the light of yak butter candles falling on silk banners, golden icons and rows of shaven heads. Sitting cross-legged between Tenzin and Phurpa, on one of the low platforms that ran at right angles from the altar, I watched the nuns rub sleep from their eyes, yawn and pull their woollen shawls about them, their breath rising in the gloom. It was just above freezing now, but even when it was minus twenty they were forbidden to wear warm coats over their robes during morning prayers. It was a form of mental training, Legpe had told me the older nuns used a type of meditation called nenjurma that generated internal heat.
"But you have to control your mind first. It's very hard."
It sounded just like tumo, meaning warmth, an advanced form of meditation used by Tibetan monks and ascetics to raise their core temperature. The great traveller and Tibetologist, Alexandra David-Neel, witnessed new initiates of tumo proving their abilities by drying freezing wet towels on their naked bodies in the middle of the Tibetan winter, and Tibetan hermits surviving winters in freezing caves with nothing but tumo to keep them warm.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p326
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 15, 2019, 10:18:20 AM
So near the end of my journey, my mood fluctuated as frequently as the weather. At lunchtime I pulled over a roadside shack for rice and dahl and found three young Dutch motorcyclists inside, two women and one man, the first independent travellers I'd met. Bonded by two-wheeled camaraderie, we crowded around a small table piled with helmets, gloves and maps, stories bubbling out of us excitedly. They were riding around the world on 250cc trail bikes visiting Tawang before crossing India to Pakistan and riding home through China, Central Asia and Iran. It was a brief but high-spirited meeting, and we parted ways with warm hugs and photographs.
Finishing a journey is always like this- a tidal bore of emotions raw with elation, exhaustion, wonder, relief, sadness, nostalgia and gratitude. I didn't want it to end, to leave behind the wild mountains and all the exceptional people I'd met here. And this journey had meant more to me than any other. It had healed me. I was a different person to the one who'd nervously boarded the plane almost three months ago. I felt alive, happy, restored to the essence of myself, as if the real me had emerged from the diminished shell I'd become. I'd been reminded that the only way to beat fear is to face it head-on, to look it in the eye and see it for the gutless bully it is. Fear itself can't hurt us. Only our reactions to it can.
Land Of The Dawn-Lit Mountains  Antonia Bolingbroke-Kent  p335
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 28, 2019, 11:53:10 AM
Some might remember Dr Oliver Sacks as the one featured in "Awakenings", where he was played by Robin Williams.

Most of all, I loved motorbikes. My father had had one before the war, a Scott Flying Squirrel with a big water-cooled engine and an exhaust like a scream, and I wanted a powerful bike, too. Images of bikes and planes and horses merged for me, as did images of bikers and cowboys and pilots, whom I imagined to be in precarious but jubilant control of their powerful mounts. My boyish imagination was fed by Westerns and films of heroic air combat, seeing pilots risking their lives in Hurricanes and Spitfires but lent protection by their thick flying jackets, as motorcyclists were by their leather jackets and helmets.
When I returned to London as a ten-year-old in 1943, I enjoyed sitting in the window seat of our front room, watching and trying to identify motorbikes as they sped by (after the war, when petrol was easier to get, they became much commoner). I could identify a dozen or more marques- AJS, Triumph, BSA, Norton, Matchless, Vincent, Velocette, Ariel, and Sunbeam, as well as rare foreign bikes like BMWs and Indians.
On The Move  Oliver Sacks  p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 29, 2019, 11:30:48 AM
On my first Norton, a 250cc machine, I had a couple of near accidents. The first came when I approached a red traffic light too fast and, realising that I could not safely brake or turn, drove straight on and somehow- miraculously- passed between two lines of cars going in opposite directions. Reaction came a minute later: I rode another block, parked the bike in a side road- and fainted.
The second accident occurred at night in heavy rain on a winding country road. A car coming in the opposite direction did not dim its headlights, and I was blinded. I thought there would be a head-on collision, but at the last moment I stepped off the bike (an expression of ridiculous mildness for a potentially lifesaving but potentially fatal manoeuvre). I let the bike go in one direction (it missed the car but was totalled) and myself in another. Fortunately, I was wearing a helmet, boots, gloves, as well as full leathers, and though I slid twenty yards or so on the rain-slicked road, I was so well protected by my clothing that I did not get a scratch.
On The Move  Oliver Sacks  p5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 30, 2019, 09:38:41 AM
I never played chicken, but I enjoyed a little road racing; my 600cc Norton Dominator had a slightly souped-up engine but could not match the 1000cc Vincents favoured by the inner circle at the Ace cafe. I once tried a Vincent, but it seemed horribly unstable to me, especially at low speeds, very different from my Norton, which had a "feather bed" frame and was wonderfully stable, whatever one's speed. (I wondered if one could fit a Vincent engine in a Norton frame, and I was to find, years later, that such "Norvins" had been made.) When speed limits were introduced, there was no more doing the ton; the fun was over, and the Ace ceased to be the place it once was.
On The Move  Oliver Sacks  p7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 01, 2019, 11:45:13 AM
I fell in with a group of fellow motorcyclists, and every Sunday morning we would meet in the city, go over the Golden Bridge onto the narrow, eucalyptus-smelling road which wound up Mount Tamalpais, then along the high mountain ridge with the Pacific to our left, descending in wide swoops to have brunch together on Stinson Beach (or occasionally Bodega Bay, soon to be made famous by Hitchcock's film The Birds). Those early morning rides were about feeling intensely alive, feeling the air on one's face, the wind on one's body, in a way only given to motorcycle riders. Those mornings have an almost intolerable sweetness in memory, and nostalgic images of them are instantly provoked by the smell of eucalyptus.
On weekdays, I usually biked alone around San Francisco. But on one occasion, I approached a group- very different from our sedate and respectable Stinson Beach group- a noisy, uninhibited group, sitting on their bikes drinking cans of beer and smoking. When I got closer, I saw the Hells Angels logos on their jackets, but it was too late to turn around, so I drew up next to them and said, "Hello." My audacity and English accent intrigued them, as did, when they learned of my being a doctor. I was approved on the spot, without having to go through any rites of passage. I was pleasant, unjudgmental, and a doctor- and as such was called on, occasionally, to advise when riders were injured. I did not join them in any of their rides or other activities, and our mild, unexpected relationship- unexpected for me, as for them- quietly petered out when I left San Francisco a year later.
On The Move  Oliver Sacks  pp73-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 02, 2019, 03:10:28 PM
Thom lived, in those days, at 975 Filbert, and that street, as San Franciscans know (but I did not), suddenly drops precipitously at a thirty-degree angle. I had my Norton scrambler and, rushing along Filbert, taking it far too fast, I suddenly found myself airborne, as in a ski jump. Fortunately, my bike took the jump easily, but I was rattled; it could have ended badly. When I rang Thom's bell, my heart was still pounding.
He invited me in, gave me a beer, and asked why I had been so eager to meet him. I said, simply, that many of his poems seemed to call to something deep inside me. Thom looked noncommittal. Which poems? he asked. Why? The first poem of his I had read was "On the Move", and as a motorcyclist myself, I said, I instantly resonated to it, as I had years before to T. E. Lawrence's short, lyrical piece "The Road". And I liked his poem titled "The Unsettled Motorcyclist's Vision of His Death" because I was convinced that, like Lawrence, I too would be killed on my motorbike.
On The Move  Oliver Sacks  p77
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 03, 2019, 05:03:24 PM
As soon as I could get away from work on Friday, I saddled my horse- I sometimes thought of my bike as a horse- and would set out for the Grand Canyon, five hundred miles away but a straight ride on Route 66. I would ride through the night, lying flat on the tank; the bike had only 30 horsepower, but if I lay flat, I could get it to a little over a hundred miles per hour, and crouched like this, I would hold the bike flat out for hour after hour. Illuminated by the headlight- or, if there was one, by a full moon- the silvery road was sucked under my front wheel, and sometimes I had strange perceptual reversals and illusions. Sometimes I felt that I was inscribing a line on the surface of the earth, other times that I was poised motionless above the ground, the whole planet rotating silently beneath me. My only stops were at gas stations, to fill the tank, to stretch my legs and exchange a few words with the gas attendant. If I held the bike at its maximum speed, I could reach the Grand Canyon in time to see the sunrise.
On The Move  Oliver Sacks  p108
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 04, 2019, 12:11:03 PM
I kept careful notes in my lab notebook, a large green volume which I sometimes took home with me to ponder over at night. This was to prove my undoing, for, rushing to get to work one morning after oversleeping, I failed to secure the elastic bands on the bike rack and my precious notebook, containing nine months of detailed experimental data, escaped from the loose strands and flew off the bike while I was on the Cross Bronx Expressway. Pulling over to the side, I saw the notebook dismembered page by page by the thunderous traffic. I tried darting into the road two or three times to retrieve it, but this was madness, for the traffic was too dense and too fast. I could only watch helplessly until the whole book was torn apart.
On The Move  Oliver Sacks  p136
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 05, 2019, 05:12:04 PM
A German philosopher named Schopenhauer once stated, "All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident." Riding technology has undergone this same process.
Going through a set of esses on my 200cc Ducati in 1960, I discovered counter-steering. It scared me. It didn't make any sense and I never mentioned it to anyone until the 1970s for fear of being told I was nuts. Counter-steering didn't become a piece of understood technology until 1973, during an international conference on motorcycle safety held in San Francisco. There, Dr. Harry Hurt and a group of Honda researchers each presented technical papers documenting how counter-steering worked and how its conscious use could benefit motorcycle riders by making it easier to avoid collisions.
The counter-steering researchers had opened the door to riding improvement for everyone. But I also remember the upsets and arguments created when I tried to explain counter-steering to a disbelieving veteran with 20 years of riding experience.
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  pxi
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 06, 2019, 01:21:00 PM
Under what conditions will your bike hold a constant line through a turn? Off-the-gas transfers weight forward, tending to make the bike stand UP and run wide. On-the-gas too much does the same thing, widens the line. (Note: if you think your bike goes to the inside of the turn when you come off the gas, you're unconsciously steering it to the inside. Tire profiles and suspension settings may have an effect on this as well.)
The only reliable way to hold a constant line through any turn is with standard 40/60 throttle control. This is another one of those machine requirements: It is an ideal scene for the bike; it is how you achieve stability in a turn with respect to your line's radius. Just ask yourself. Is it good to have a predictable line? Is it a plus to know where the bike is going, up ahead in the turn? Do you notice small changes in the line? Most important: Do changes in line fire up your survival reactions?
Isn't it interesting that "in too fast" or "going too wide" trigger SR #1 (roll-off)? In turns, SR #1 puts the bike precisely where you don't want it, doing precisely what you don't want it to do (running wide).
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  p20
Note: SR = Survival Reactions
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 07, 2019, 10:16:34 AM
Have you ever noticed your forearms pump-up while riding? Do your hands become tired during or after spirited corner-carving sessions? These are two of the main indicators (there are many more) telling you something is wrong. What are the indicators saying? How you hold onto the bike is quite an art all in itself. In fact, it is actually a separate technology with its own rules, its areas of agreement and disagreement with machine technology and, naturally, SRs that can ruin your riding time.
Do you command your arms to tense-up or do they do it automatically? Do you need further proof this is a survival reaction? Try this. Take a series of turns at speed and stiffen-up your body on purpose as you ride through the turns; really hold the bike and bars tight. For most riders, it's the only way to discover exactly what's happening. Generally, riders don't notice their pumped-up arms until they slow down. Is this automatic?
Again, my survey of over 8000 riders, the overwhelming choice for runner-up in the "unwanted riding conditions" class is: too tight on the bars. The same triggers that cause roll-off/roll-on also fire up this unconscious action. And yes, it is the sole reason for the message your arms and hands are sending home to you. The message is: Please send oxygen, we are overworked and starving.
My first inclination is to simply say, "relax on the bike," but, because we're dealing with SRs, it's not that easy.
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  pp34-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 08, 2019, 12:15:28 PM
Bending the elbows and wrists instead of straight arming the bike will set you up to be in a more friendly and relaxed position on the bike. I only vary the grip when I'm making steering changes. Outside of that, my grip is as equal and relaxed as I can make it. Treat the bike like a friend and it won't work against you.
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  p38
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 09, 2019, 02:37:42 PM
Most riders become anxious about being blown around in the wind and tighten on the bars. As the upper body is buffeted by the wind, it acts like a sail. The bike is then being steered by the wind! Ride loose and low, and the wind's effect on the bike is reduced by at least 75 percent.
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  p40
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on December 09, 2019, 03:55:40 PM
Hope I'm not out of line posting this...please delete if so...  |-i

Download a copy of "A Twist Of The Wrist 2" from HERE (https://www.dropbox.com/s/9g8vbfi2xr0ab6d/Keith%20Code%20-%20A%20Twist%20Of%20The%20Wrist%20Volume%20II.pdf?dl=0)

Sorry for the momentary Hijack...  :law




Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 11, 2019, 02:15:39 PM
No worries- I didn't know it was available on-line.  Thanks for posting.

For those just wanting a few samples:

In a rear end slide the front end turns toward the direction the bike is actually going- into the slide. The main mass of the bike is moving outward and the front wheel turns just the right amount to stabilize it. This feature comes free of charge with every motorcycle. In a car, if the back end comes around, the front wheels turn to the inside of the turn, creating a pivot point for the car's mass, and it spins out. Learning how to drive a car in the snow is mostly a matter of understanding that you have to manually turn the wheel into the skid to stabilize it. You don't on a bike.
When the bike slides and SR #2 [stiffen arms] is triggered, the rider with good reactions and a strong back is in trouble. If the rider is successful at holding the bars tight enough that they don't turn into the slide, the bike now acts like the car: The front contact patch becomes a pivot point, except that a motorcycle doesn't spin out, it highsides.
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  p46
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 12, 2019, 10:12:56 AM
A motorcycle in motion is a relatively stable vehicle. The faster you go, the more difficult it is to turn because of the gyro effect created by the wheels. That twisting force you feel with either the toy gyro or the bicycle wheel is transmitted back up the fork leg to the frame, where it forces the steering head to one side (tilting the bike).
The closer the contact patch is to the Center of Mass, the quicker and easier the machine will steer.
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  p55
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 13, 2019, 03:16:38 PM
How many times do you steer your bike in any one turn? How many times, do you guess, is the right number? One single steering action per turn, is correct. That's rule number one for steering. What we call "mid-turn steering corrections", (one or more additional steering inputs) is a survival reaction set off by normal SR triggers: In too hot, too wide, lost in the turn and so on. In an attempt to correct for their turn-entry errors, riders use steering changes as a catch-all, cushion or buffer to handle the uncertainty brought on by the above. Mid-turn steering corrections are generated by survival reactions. And unfortunately, this rider error, like all the others generated by SRs, goes against the grain of machine technology and good control.
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  p62
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 14, 2019, 08:39:22 PM
Everyone has a turn-point; whether they consciously selected it or not is the key. A predetermined turn entry point is one of the most important decisions you make, (if you make it). It's important because so many things depend on that decision. Let's make a list of them:
1. How much speed you can approach the turn with.
2. Where the brakes go on.
3. Where you will downshift.
4. Where the brakes go off.
5. How quickly or slowly you will have to steer the bike.
6. Where the throttle comes back on.
7. How quickly or slowly the throttle maybe applied.
8. How much lean angle you will use.
9.  Where the bike is pointed once fully leaned over.
10. How many (if any) steering corrections you will make.
11. Where you will finish the turn (how wide you run out at the exit).
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  pp81-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 15, 2019, 01:28:53 PM
Mechanically speaking, the eye doesn't actually narrow down what can be seen, you simply aren't aware of all you can see when your attention is captured or directed elsewhere. When you remember to do it, the width of your awareness is totally controlled by the mind. 
I'll tell you my secret. I discovered this whole thing one Sunday morning in 1974 while riding to Griffith Park to street race with my friends. I had a vicious tequila hangover. My field of view was about two feet wide and I knew this wasn't going to work; I felt lost on my own street! I suppose out of necessity, my attention popped out wide and I could "see" again; it even made most of my "condition" disappear. From then on, when I left my house, I would usually remember to push my attention out wide. The most amazing thing happened as a result. I never again had any trouble in traffic with surprise lane changes or sudden critical situations involving four-wheeled motorists.
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  pp94-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 16, 2019, 01:27:27 PM
The two-step goes like this:
1. You spot your turn-point as early as possible. This could be before you brake, while braking, anywhere- as early as possible.
2. Just before arriving at your turn-point you look into the turn to see where (exactly) the bike should go.
It's also called the two-step because it makes you aware of two major steps, (1) where to turn and (2) where to go afterwards, before you have done them.
The difficult part of this technique is allowing the bike to go straight until you have reached your turn-point. Survival Reactions are begging you to turn the bike at the same time you look in. This is the "go where you look" survival reaction, SR #5. The two-step technique helps you defeat it.
A Twist Of The Wrist 2  Keith Code  p99
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 17, 2019, 03:51:48 PM
For Goldfine it's always been about more than selling stuff. He really believes that riding a bike makes you a healthier, happier, more well-adjusted person. He will go on endlessly about dopamine and endorphin secretions. He gets excited. His eyes light up. He's his own ShamWow commercial. But wait! There's more!
Riding a bike isn't easy. Ask Bobby Zimmerman. Both hands and both feet operate in an intricate, sophisticated dance. All five senses are on alert. The brain and the ass and everything else battle for control. Pull this trick off- actually guide the two-wheeled bitch to a finish where and when you want to- and you're a self-validated genius. No wonder you feel so damned good.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 1  Robert Higdon  p11
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 18, 2019, 03:18:27 PM
I sit on the rear, leaning forward with my fingertips pressing against the tank of the K100RS. This isn't how I'd imagined it would be. I want to hold onto him, tightly. But this isn't holding on. This is praying. We're not out of the pit before I'm having misgivings on a cosmic scale. And then it gets worse in a hurry.
The bike launches itself toward turn two, a long, arcing right-hander. Pridmore's style is to cut toward the inside of every corner, to take away the ability of a trailing bike to pass, but there are no bikes out here that will pass him today or would even want to try. When it dawns on me that he really is going to slam into that turn at some godless speed, I try to suppress a moan. A moment later he has the machine heeled over to the right at an angle that shakes me to my core. This is going to hurt like hell, I think. But I'll be unconscious then and won't give a damn anymore.
And with that realisation a sublime peace envelopes me, as if my nerve endings had been coated with morphine. We exit the turn still alive, take turn three to the inside (as usual), become almost airborne at turn four, shriek downhill to the 90-degree left-hander (inside), and cover the hundreds of yards of back straight in less time than it takes me to recite the Apostle's Creed. He doesn't come off on pit road, but takes another lap. By now my spirit is two hundred yards above the bike, circling the track casually like a bird, watching my corporeal form on the back of a red bike blur through time and space without sorrow, toil, or care. And then it is over.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 1  Robert Higdon  pp35-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 19, 2019, 01:34:09 PM
Weather windows in Siberia are narrow and the riding season laughably short. If you try to cross the countryside in May, as the Finns did, you'll run into snow. In June it will freeze at night but it might not snow. July will bring out the flies, afternoon thunderstorms, and 95-degree heat. In August it starts snowing again.
The winter defies description. Our route took us a little south of some of the lowest temperatures ever recorded outside Antarctica. Fifty below zero- steel shatters in such cold- is not uncommon in the area. A drunk will stagger out of a bar, fall down in a stupor, and be quickly covered up by a snowfall. The following May, as the ice slowly melts, the snow bank begins to reveal an upraised frozen arm or leg. The Russians call these apparitions podsnezhniki, spring flowers.
The first three days had been rough. On the fourth day, things turned seriously ugly. We had stopped for gas after noon, having come off a stretch of pavement that was hopeless even by Siberian standards. I looked at Mike and tried to smile.
"As bad as that was," I said, "it still beats the dirt." I should have shut up. It was the last paved road we would see for the next 900 miles.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 1  Robert Higdon  p53
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 20, 2019, 09:59:31 PM
Melissa Pierson wasn't having any of that. She knew the steed wasn't worthy of a shred of trust, something that is intuitively obvious to anyone who has ever ridden a one-track vehicle. This thing, she wrote bluntly, can kill you faster than the emergency response team can peel you off the grill of a Volvo. Sure, it's a machine of exceptional beauty, function, and lineage, but you're never going to escape its physics. In the end it is going to do whatever it takes to wind up on its side.
Still, she said, if you can learn to handle this thing, to tame it like an unruly horse, surviving the elemental danger of the enterprise may be enough to offset the downside risks. Staring death in the face and coming out smiling has always been, and will always be, the straight flush in life's poker game.
This yin and yang is the dark midnight of motorcycling's soul. No one in the trade writes about it. It is the distant bell that is heard only by the unconscious mind. And no motorcyclist wants to hear it anyway. You don't go into the garage each morning and ask that shiny machine, "Is this the day you kill me, you bitch?" You already know the answer: It will if it can. You're supposed to be the master, so master it, if you can.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 1  Robert Higdon  p93
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 29, 2019, 11:37:02 PM
I referred to it as a "motorcycle" gene, but it's really a gene that produces rebellious, anti-social, and not infrequently criminal behaviour. All societies have methods of controlling defiant people through psychiatric intervention, waterboarding, federal prison, and so on. But a cheap, effective way of modifying behaviour (short of outright surgery) is merely to co-opt it before it becomes intractable: Give the offender a motorcycle license.
At first blush this might appear merely to introduce yet another violent twist into the debate, but its genius is that it diverts a genetic drive to wreak havoc into what we call with a wink a "socially acceptable activity". The rebel with the malignant gene will be riding a motorcycle- perhaps not too skilfully or for too long- instead of robbing widows, selling methamphetamine at the playground, or running for president.
You may recoil from these thoughts, but by standards commonly used to judge the validity of an argument, it passes every test: 1) It conforms with how we know the world works and 2) It isn't internally inconsistent. Look no further than biker cult classic, The Wild One. The leader of the Black Rebels Motorcycle Club is asked, "What're you rebelling against, Johnny?" He replies, "Whaddya got?" It didn't matter; Johnny would rebel against anything. He didn't know why, but we do.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 1  Robert Higdon  p122
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 30, 2019, 12:51:13 PM
Having stared death in the face, he walked away. His riding suit was scuffed up but largely intact. The coat beneath it was untouched. Twice in recent years he had tripped on sidewalks and sustained more severe injuries. But it was enough.
"It took me as much as three minutes to decide that I am going to get out of the motorcycle world," he said.
Seven years ago I wrote a column about why people ride bikes. They do, I argued, because their genes are biological black holes. Normal people don't ride motorcycles. If you're on one, there's something wrong with you by definition. I have never met a single rider who wasn't covered with Freudian fingerprints.
Then I considered the simple truth that sooner or later everyone stops riding. Why? Does the psychiatrist gesture hypnotically and cure you? Are those genes improving with age? Of course not. You stop because you run out of your allotment of Bad Days. You're born with a certain number of them. When they're gone, so are you- to the morgue, to the emergency room, or, in Irv's case, to somewhere else.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 1  Robert Higdon  p174
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 31, 2019, 09:23:31 AM
The last two days on the road were some of the worst motorcycling I've ever been through. It was cold, windy, and lethally boring. When I rolled into my driveway, I was shivering uncontrollably. There was snow in the yard. I left home in the middle of winter, February 11. I returned with the first day of spring on the horizon. You wouldn't know it. It's colder today than the day I left.
I know, I know. If you don't want to be cold, try riding through Kansas in July, not through Cloudcroft in February. If someone else were telling me this story of woe, I'd have less than a vanishing trace of sympathy. But it did seem that much of this trip had a conspiratorial flavour to it, one designed to drive me nuts. It worked. There isn't a cell in my body that doesn't hurt right now.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 1  Robert Higdon  p220
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 11, 2020, 08:33:59 PM
When winter slunk in, things turned darker still. The splines on the kickstarter's shaft stripped, a catastrophe laughably out of my price range to remedy. Thus did I become a master of the bump start. The colder it got, however, the bigger the hill I'd have to find to tether Lassie.
Winter only magnified the constellation of my woes. I worked the night shift at a liquor store in Bladensburg. One night I was caught at work in a serious snow storm. At two in the morning, quitting time, a foot of snow lay unplowed on almost every road in the county. I tossed the poncho over a leather jacket, cinched down the hood, and pulled on some gloves designed for B-29 pilots. I wrapped a six-foot scarf around my face- there was no helmet law in Maryland then, but I couldn't have afforded a hat anyway- and headed up the hill to give Lassie a shove.
To this good day I don't know how I got that thing cranked over. I fell twice in deep drifts before finding the bottom of the hill. The engine kept chugging away. I'll admit this about a Vespa: If you could get the pig going, it would keep going.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 14, 2020, 12:36:40 PM
When winter slunk in, things turned darker still. The splines on the kickstarter's shaft stripped, a catastrophe laughably out of my price range to remedy. Thus did I become a master of the bump start. The colder it got, however, the bigger the hill I'd have to find to tether Lassie.
Winter only magnified the constellation of my woes. I worked the night shift at a liquor store in Bladensburg. One night I was caught at work in a serious snow storm. At two in the morning, quitting time, a foot of snow lay unplowed on almost every road in the county. I tossed the poncho over a leather jacket, cinched down the hood, and pulled on some gloves designed for B-29 pilots. I wrapped a six-foot scarf around my face- there was no helmet law in Maryland then, but I couldn't have afforded a hat anyway- and headed up the hill to give Lassie a shove.
To this good day I don't know how I got that thing cranked over. I fell twice in deep drifts before finding the bottom of the hill. The engine kept chugging away. I'll admit this about a Vespa: If you could get the pig going, it would keep going.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 16, 2020, 10:56:27 PM
The wind ripped out of the west at a healthy 30-40 mph. Snow swirled eerily across the road. My arctic boots, rated to -10 degrees, weren't particularly effective in the -55 wind chill, not even with two pairs of thermal socks and electric insoles. I thought I had prepared for everything, but I was wrong. If there are serious, painful lessons to be learned in life, motorcycling will teach them to you.
Coming into Caribou, an ominous name even for Maine, the road suddenly dived into a 10-percent downhill for a quarter of a mile. Before I even knew what was happening, my subconscious bike brain casually said, "You're on solid ice, bro. And look! There's a traffic light at the bottom of this hill. What fun!" I don't know how I got down that grade on two wheels instead of bobsledding on one of the saddlebags. Some things are best left unknown. After that it was just a question of trying to get back to Portland before a pebble could hit one of my crystallized feet and shatter it like a porcelain vase.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  pp38-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 18, 2020, 12:39:33 PM
Still, what I have is a skill, one that most riders don't want, one that 30 years of practice has brought to a fine edge: I hit things. I hit them hard.
In college I managed to slide a Vespa through an entire intersection, denting a brick wall on the far side. Not a month later, to avoid slamming into a barricade, I drove straight off a cliff. I blamed the Vespa's crappy brakes. I needed better stoppers. I also needed a psychiatrist, but Brembos were cheaper and less judgemental. I bought a 250 Puch and, while chasing some ducks, promptly rode it through a barbed-wire fence. Then I began to accumulate BMWs, bikes that communicate with their brakes mostly by rumour. Anyway, brakes aren't much help when you rarely even see what it is you're about to destroy. I proved that conclusively a few years ago when I inverted Harry Hurt's work and turned my bike left in front of an oncoming car.
As satisfying in some respects as these crashes were, the perfection of my life's work- the rear-ender at ramming speed- was still on the horizon. A couple of years ago I bought some ancient R80G/Ss and went into serious training. The only way to stop an R80 is to drag a stick on the ground.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  pp57-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 20, 2020, 06:36:16 PM
Our hotel is quite the perfect dump, lacking amenities picky travellers such as ourselves enjoy, like air conditioning, hot water, soap that doesn't crumble when you open the package, and more than three minutes of internet connectivity every hour or so.
Many of the riders had travelled before with the organisation's founder, Helge Pedersen. Last Tuesday at dinner I sat with five people who combined had ridden on these expeditions 28 times. Let that sink in. This isn't a two-week Gray Line bus tour of the National Parks of Wyoming. When you sign up for a ride with Helge, you're in for 60-plus days, $30,000 to get in the door, and $20,000 or more in a bike that is accessorised more than a Dior model. The $10,000 for your own air fare, lunch money, tips to the hotel maid, and psychiatric consultations are chump change.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  p97
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 22, 2020, 03:24:21 PM
About 30 years ago one of Rider magazine's staff writers, Beau Allen Pacheco, wrote an article in which he said in passing, "Sooner or later everyone quits riding." Those words have haunted me ever since. How does a person who is a motorcycle rider cease to be that person? I've come up with some truly eloquent theories over the years about why people ride and why they quit but until now have never had to put the theories to the test. I've concluded that my original idea about why riders stop riding- they simply can't take another bad day in the saddle- is as good an explanation as any. At some point it just isn't worth it. You can't push that damned bike 10 more feet down the road.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  p111
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 25, 2020, 10:26:56 AM
You're probably already aware of this, but I have rediscovered some important truths about travel now that I own a car again. If you drive this thing in the rain, you will not necessarily become wet, unless you open the moon roof. When it is cold outside, you do not have to become cold too unless you open the windows. Oncoming motorists do not seem as willing to turn left in front of you or to lurch out of side streets toward your right knee or to sneer at you when your splines disintegrate on the shoulder of the highway.
All in all, these cars might catch on. There might be rallies out there where Civic owners convene and discuss floor mats. I could go to Car Week in Daytona, learn the brands of chewing tobacco that NASCAR drivers prefer, and put nasty stickers on the bumpers. I could fight for instituting more helmet laws and against permitting bikes in T2 lanes.
Yeah. This could be a giggle. And even though it's raining like hell right now, I think I'll go for a drive.
Vroom. Ha ha. Vroom.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  p129
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 27, 2020, 06:51:50 PM
If I were advising a North American biker on European travel, I'd suggest starting in the British Isles. The language problems are more comical than confusing. It takes 10 minutes to become used to driving on the left-hand side of the road. The roundabouts are manageable, so long as you stay away from the one in Hemel Hempstead, a structure so massive that it has five satellite roundabouts sprouting from it. And the currency is decimal, finally. You know you're in a foreign country when you're in Great Britain, but you don't feel like a foreigner. You really have to be an idiot to piss off the English.
I came to Devonshire in 1972, Higdon version 1.0.1 spent the summer going to law school in Exeter, eating fried rice from the Slow Boat and drinking Guinness at a dreary pub on Dunsford Hill. Three times I've returned, always going back to the places I saw the first time. I ride through lonely Dartmoor, where the hound of the Baskervilles used to frolic and where American prisoners of war- we have not always been allies- were held. The pirates of Penzance are two hours west, Tintern abbey two hours north, and Moreton, where T. E. Lawrence died, lies two hours east.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  p140
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 29, 2020, 09:39:30 AM
"So what can you do?" another voice asked sadly. "Make it easy on yourself. Don't get off the bike. That threatens the cop. Remove your helmet so they can see how old and feeble you are. If you've got nerves of steel, have a joke ready. I heard one about a guy punching his helmet when the cop walked up. "What are you doing?" the cop wondered. "Just frustrated," the rider said. "Guy sold me this and told me it would make me invisible." Cop laughed and let him go. Most of the time, though, they know what they're going to do- write you up or let you go- before they get out of the car."
"And if you do have to go to trial?" someone wondered.
"If it's that bad, I'd get a lawyer. Even a lawyer should hire a lawyer. It's your only realistic chance. There is no presumption of innocence whatsoever. None. It's the cop who presumed innocent and unbiased, but we've already seen what he can do."
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  p187
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 31, 2020, 10:22:03 PM
The part of me that isn't enraged by a senseless death is trying to rationalise the process. It isn't easy, but I bring the theory of probability into the process. I conclude that my odds of living just one more day, even if I'm 140 years old, are close 100 percent. If I ride a bike tomorrow, as Dave did the other day, I might reduce my odds of living until sundown by one-thousandth of one percent. Do I proceed upon my journey and perhaps join him at trip's end, or should I forswear motorcycles altogether and slog down the highway only in an armoured vehicle?
In the end, what matters is how much you want to hang onto life while actually living it. How much will you pay to avoid a bad roll of the dice? The insurance isn't much- just drive a car. The true cost is more subtle and ironic, for by caving in to fear you ensure that you will die by inches instead of yards. You avoid what you desire, and the avoidance kills you just as surely as the risk, albeit more slowly.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  pp180-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 02, 2020, 02:53:24 PM
In the last week of the ride there was rarely a morning when I wouldn't troop out of the motel, load the CB750 up like a beast of burden, stick the key in the ignition, and ask, "Will this finally be the day I've waited for these 11 years, the day you finally do me in?" No, not that day. I felt ashamed of myself for my craven doubts. I thought of writing a poem about it or maybe giving it a name.
Arriving in Annapolis the Honda had racked- "wracked" may be a more appropriate verb- up almost 80,000 miles. I parked it behind my car. Every day I'd look at it. That machine, without doubt, was as faithful as any dog or cat I have ever known. Never once had it broken down anywhere. It deserved a better owner than I, not one who in a just and perfect world should have been reported to the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Motorcycles.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  p213
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 04, 2020, 02:02:01 PM
Me, I'll take Dobbin. I can relate to horses biologically. They walk at a few miles an hour, as do I. For brief periods, it is true, they can run fairly briskly- as I recall, Secretariat, the fastest of them all, was once clocked at close to 50 mph- but for long-distance travel in the 19th century the ironbutt saddle would have gone to a cavalry commander like George Custer or Jeb Stuart. In a single day they could make nearly 100 miles.
It doesn't sound like much to us, but once it was the gold standard. For all but the tiniest blink of human history a horse's top speed was the fastest velocity any human could attain without being dropped off a cliff. Daimler and Benz changed all that. They gave us new and faster and incredibly more dramatic ways in which we could measure the pace and length of our lives. And as if the automobile were not excitement enough, next to appear was the motorcycle, a vehicle that by operation of pure physics remains upright largely by a matter of luck.
The Higdon Chronicles Vol 2  Robert Higdon  p230
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 06, 2020, 02:48:27 PM
She liked motorcycles, had been the girlfriend of a motorcyclist at one time, and asked me when I was going to get one so she and I could go riding. I knew nothing about motorcycles other than what I had seen in movies. What I did know was I was going to have to acquire a motorcycle if Sam was to become my girlfriend.
Mike, a boy in one of my classes, owned a moped. It was a 50cc Allstate sold by Sears, Roebuck and Company. Mike and I became friends and he sometimes let me ride on the back of the bike. After several months I managed to talk him into letting me drive the moped, alone. It was a wobbly start, but my bicycling skills managed to keep the moped upright long enough to fee] more than a pedalling breeze in the wind. That first solo ride hooked me on motorised two-wheel movement. I also felt I qualified as a motorcycle rider, the kind that my cigarette-smoking and leather-jacket-wearing girlfriend wanted.
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  p9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 08, 2020, 09:52:58 PM
Looking at the loaded motorcycle from the side, everything looked like it had a home, except for one important aspect: there was no room on the back of the seat for Brian.
We repacked, this time strapping the blankets and tent to the back of the sissy bar and on top of the two suitcases, which left room for a rear passenger. We made several attempts to get Brian on the back of the Honda while I was holding it upright, but he could not wedge himself in between the sissy bar and my back. We finally solved this problem by having him sit on the motorcycle first, and while he held it upright, I climbed on the front. It was a tight fit, and I was hunched over the gas tank, but I managed to start the motorcycle and we left town, only three hours behind schedule. We were on the road. The trip lasted about 5 miles until a passing driver waved at us, gesturing frantically at our makeshift saddle packs- the backpacks we had bought were being ripped, and our clothes were leaking out of the pack behind us. The bags had been flopping near the rear wheel and the friction ripped open the canvas.
While Brian walked back toward town collecting our shoes, books, and clothes, I tried to use more rope to repair the torn bags and make a barrier that would keep the bags from hitting the rear wheel. The field repair was workable, but the pile attached to the sissy bar became higher and wider.
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  p23
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 10, 2020, 01:11:35 PM
One sunny afternoon, as I was looking through a microscope during a biology class, trying to draw a copy of the amoeba I was seeing, I heard the start of a friend's Norton Atlas engine. We had spent the evening before unsuccessfully trying to get it working. The sound of the Norton became quieter as he rode away, but it was the last straw that killed the dreams of my parents. I quit college the next day, dropped out, and tuned into my own world.
Over the next months, I managed to live by begging odd jobs, sleeping in the back of my car, and sponging showers and beds from my friends who lived on campus or in apartments near the campus. At one point all I had left was a nickel. I gave it to my girlfriend, saying, "Well, if I have to start dead broke, I might as well really start at zero."
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  pp36-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 12, 2020, 06:23:58 PM
I had been studying business and finance, and while looking at my own financial management, I came to the awakening that racing was far more expensive than I had realised. Reality set in when I realised I could ride motorcycles for weeks on the same budget I could spend preparing for a race, and even if I won I might only come home with a trophy worth $5 to $10. I had to laugh at myself, knowing that my ego was telling me to keep throwing money into the deep, dark racing pit. Once I switched off the ego, I saw that racing was going to have to be moved down my list of priorities. It was simply not a rational return on investment.
Instead of merely spending money to ride roads, I listened to one of my university professors when he suggested we use our vacations to make money by recording them for sale in the form of travel or informational videos. An investment in recording equipment, some books, and classes on film making, and I thought I had found a way to pay for my off-road adventures.
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  p51
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 15, 2020, 03:58:00 PM
Theft plagued me. Anything that was removable from the motorcycle disappeared. Pens stuck in the sides of my tank bag would go missing after a gas stop. Bungee cords would spring off seemingly on their own when I stopped and shopped at a market. Anytime I would park, I put the bike cover over the motorcycle to keep prying eyes and hands off, at least until Ali Baba or one of his workers stole the cover.
When I asked a local Moroccan why pilfering things off my motorcycle was so popular, he answered, "It's like the national sport here. The boys like to show off to their friends what they were able to steal from the Western traveller. Consider it their merit badges if they were a Boy Scout."
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  p83
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 17, 2020, 03:22:15 PM
The road into Moscow was well paved and made for an easy one-day ride. Gas stations were modern and plentiful. It was on this section that I met a Belgian motorcyclist and his sister who claimed to have ridden in Russia eight times. When he learned of the proposed route from Moscow across Siberia, he said I was taking the "Road to Hell" and implied I would likely die. While I knew there were no Kawasaki dealers along that section- and in some places no bridges- the thought of death from crashing on a bad road had not been part of my plan. The fact that there was only one road across Russia did not leave me much choice or time to worry about other options. I discounted the Belgian's trepidation, knowing that he had probably never seen a gravel road in Belgium and noting his dirt-free motorcycle and riding gear.
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  p89
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on February 19, 2020, 07:40:33 AM
Well I like your posts Biggles, and I appreciate the effort you go to to post them. You have even encouraged me to go and buy some of these books to read the full chapters. Thank you.  :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on February 19, 2020, 09:41:53 AM
(https://i.ibb.co/jHVBDDN/Eric-Bana-Quote.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 19, 2020, 10:29:27 AM
The risk of losing or having stolen valuables such as cash, credit cards, a driver's license, and a passport is as high while touring the United States as it is in Morocco or Serbia. I learned to carry my VIP documents, papers, and cash well away from those needed for daily use. I carry two wallets and a third waterproof document holder for the extremely valuable papers. In my "decoy" wallet the thief or finder will discover only enough folding money to get me through the day and one credit or ATM card. They will also find a plastic-coated colour copy of my driver's license, some business cards, and a couple important-looking documents such as an expired international driving permit, dead telephone card, and a non-activated frequent flyer card. Each day I use this replenished wallet to pay for my expected expenses. If it is stolen or lost, I need only be frantic about the loss of the one credit card, which means one telephone call, and I have some solace in knowing my others are safely stashed within my regular wallet. I keep the decoy wallet somewhere on my body where it is easy for me to get to, such as an outside jacket pocket. The wallet with the good stuff I keep hidden well away from my decoy.
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  p133
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 20, 2020, 01:14:49 PM
This Navajo cow fit with my earlier experiences. As I started to speed up in first gear, the cow came off the mound and started to run alongside me like a dog. I accelerated, thinking I could outrun it, but then saw broken road ahead of me and slowed down. As I rolled off the throttle, the cow made a hard right turn across the road in front of me. As it ran off into the bush, I thought, "Next time I see you I hope you are on a menu."
The next miles were uneventful. I had seen no cars, trucks, buses or motorcycles since leaving Greasewood Springs, and other than the cow the environment was mine alone to enjoy.
Two miles from Highway 191, the paved road on my map, I went down. What ate me was deep sugar sand hiding a rock the size of baseball. I had been slowly paddling through a section of the deep white soft stuff when my front wheel hit the hidden rock, forcing the handle bars into a far right locked position. At 10 miles per hour one second I was upright, two or three seconds later I was down on my right side, face buried in the sand, right foot twisted painfully under the rear of the motorcycle, and the throttle was pegged with the engine screaming at top rpm.
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  pp156-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on February 20, 2020, 10:18:50 PM
(https://i.ibb.co/w0WnL3t/Serenity.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 21, 2020, 10:48:34 AM
Over my 40 years of roaming the globe, I had seen fellow motorcycle travellers spend huge sums of money to retrieve, or attempt to retrieve, broken or crashed motorcycles, often spending amounts that far exceeded the value of the motorcycle. One example was a fellow traveller who needed a new engine for his broken motorcycle while in Argentina, where none of the models were ever imported or sold. Importing a replacement engine cost two to three times the purchase price of a used one in good condition from the United States due to shipping costs and extremely high Argentine import taxes. Thinking he could circumvent the air-freight costs and customs taxes, he purchased a used engine off the Internet, then a round-trip airline ticket to fly to the United States and return carrying the disassembled engine parts he needed as personal luggage. After adding up the costs of the engine, airline ticket, taxis, hotels, and shop time in Argentina for damaged engine removal, disassembly, reassembly and re-installation, he spent twice the worth of the dead motorcycle.
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  p177
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on February 21, 2020, 10:57:12 AM
(https://i.ibb.co/ChSChV8/Inhale.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on February 22, 2020, 09:35:45 AM
(https://i.ibb.co/dchMbwC/Growing-Old.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 24, 2020, 07:52:19 PM
Donna-Rae and I had some close calls that could have had us returning home in a box as well (let's hope not with printing on the side saying how we were "loving it"). Numerous times we were forced off the road by oncoming vehicles. Bad road conditions or road litter and oil nearly caused us to crash in some ugly countries where medical facilities were at the lowest levels on the earth. Donna-Rae said she was (our) lucky penny. I countered with that we were lucky because the heavy medication she was taking [for Parkinsons disease] chilled her out, keeping her from jerking when road conditions made the motorcycle want to do things I had to fight to keep us upright. She never so much as twitched in these situations, when the slightest twitch might have caused us to crash.
Riding around the world with a female passenger who liked to stop to photograph castles, souvenir shops, and stone ruins, things I usually rode past, was new for me. While I was trying to adapt to two-up global touring from my lone-wolf style, the death of friends haunted me. Compounding the stress from those factors was a tight timeline and light wallet.
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  p202
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on February 24, 2020, 11:53:51 PM
(https://i.ibb.co/DMVxCKQ/Crooked-Road.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on February 26, 2020, 08:45:36 AM
(https://i.ibb.co/dM2WDF2/Therapist-Quote.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on February 26, 2020, 11:20:12 PM
(https://i.ibb.co/XZK79c1/I-Just-Want-To-Go.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 28, 2020, 01:13:36 PM
Back on the mainland of Italy, the next stop was Pompeii. To get there, we rode some of the famed Autostrade of Italy, where we were passed at 100 miles per hour by cars clocking near 150 miles per hour. The high-speed roads were a fast way to move around Italy, but came at a price, as most were toll roads. An additional cost was the lower miles per gallon needed to maintain the 90 to 100 miles per hour while riding in the middle lane of the three lanes moving in their direction. The far right lane was for the much slower vehicles, such as trucks and cars. The left lane was for the big dogs, BMWs and Mercedes that flew at speeds close to airplane lift-off levels. One crash resulted in a 15-mile traffic stall while police and maintenance people cleaned up the scene. Fortunately for us, as well as other motorcyclists, we were allowed to ride between the stopped cars, "splitting lanes". What could have been a several-hour delay turned out to be little more than a slowdown. Motorcycles were often seen riding between cars, even when the cars and trucks were moving, sometimes at speeds near 60 miles per hour. I opted to go with the flow at speeds above 40 miles per hour, but when things slowed down I joined the locals and took advantage of the opportunity offered to motorcycles.
Down and out in Patagonia, Kamchatka, and Timbuktu  Gregory Frazier  p213
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on February 29, 2020, 10:16:19 AM
(https://i.ibb.co/fqXf1M3/If-I-039-m-Riding.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on March 01, 2020, 05:48:28 PM
(https://i.ibb.co/r50RRgV/Therapy.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on March 03, 2020, 12:00:22 PM
(https://i.ibb.co/t3mSNT9/It-039-s-Not-A-Phase.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Shillas on March 03, 2020, 12:55:20 PM
Russell, there is a thread for these:

http://ozstoc.com/index.php?topic=13098.msg1246234#msg1246234 (http://ozstoc.com/index.php?topic=13098.msg1246234#msg1246234)

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on March 03, 2020, 01:57:14 PM
Hi Shillas, I realise there's a thread for memes (I've posted some), but, is what I've posted here a "quote" or a "meme"?  :o

I consider it a "quote"... :popcorn

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Shillas on March 03, 2020, 02:14:29 PM
Without attribution, it's a meme  :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on March 03, 2020, 03:21:07 PM
Plenty of "quotes" without attribution have been posted in this thread, even the original post...  :wink1   :Stirpot

Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on March 03, 2020, 04:09:39 PM
Now it's a memes thread I've left it.
I post memes and excerpts these days.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on March 03, 2020, 05:00:26 PM
I think this has come about from one of my throw away lines.  :fp
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on March 03, 2020, 05:04:51 PM
 :rofl :beer
Cheers Bodø!
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on March 04, 2020, 11:23:55 AM
“You don’t stop riding when you get old, you get old when you stop riding.”
~Anonymous~
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on March 10, 2020, 11:52:55 PM
You Can't Buy Happiness But You Can Buy A Motorcycle And That's Pretty Close...  :13Candy
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on March 14, 2020, 06:00:33 PM
When undertaking any long distance road trip in Australia you should always take plenty of water with you.

(http://www.imghostr.net/images/2020/03/14/8a6e4fa812786beaba4187fc328da210.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on March 14, 2020, 09:42:08 PM
I thought that was your auxiliary fuel tank, Bodø!  :thumbsup
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on May 15, 2020, 06:20:06 PM
(https://i.ibb.co/fHbJvLw/No-Hour.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on May 15, 2020, 06:29:40 PM
Agree.   :thumbs
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on May 16, 2020, 10:16:31 AM
(https://i.ibb.co/Zcpd5Cr/All-you-ve-got-to-do.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on May 17, 2020, 09:59:06 AM
(https://i.ibb.co/r4J8pqt/Everything-looks-better.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on May 17, 2020, 10:08:00 AM
Not everything.

(https://media.apnarm.net.au/media/images/2015/03/13/sadgfgfgfdsgd-4v8831rkt8qhxhpptj2_t1880.JPG)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on May 17, 2020, 10:31:20 AM
I think I'd still rather see that from inside a helmet than without one, especially if I was the one riding it... :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on May 17, 2020, 10:36:48 AM
I don't ride without a helmet.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on May 18, 2020, 10:13:26 AM
(https://i.ibb.co/Nrn3dbf/Motorcycles-are-like-women.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on May 19, 2020, 12:00:38 PM
(https://i.ibb.co/sqMzNCm/Couples.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on May 19, 2020, 04:41:18 PM
Not always.  :whistle
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on May 19, 2020, 05:02:16 PM
Did yours fall off the back, STeveo???  :rofl
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on May 19, 2020, 05:03:59 PM
No.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on May 21, 2020, 12:06:48 PM
(https://i.ibb.co/rp5WDP0/I-Don-t-Wanna-Pickle.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on May 22, 2020, 03:48:08 PM
(https://i.ibb.co/6JbPC2r/When-life-gets-complicated.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: ruSTynutz on June 02, 2020, 09:25:23 PM
(https://i.ibb.co/KFQsNVw/Motorcycle-you-love.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 23, 2022, 10:50:18 AM
It's been a long time.  I bailed out of this Thread when it descended into memes.  But I've scanned excerpts from another book and so am invigorated to resume my posts.  For those into trivia, I now have 2444 of these, of which 2368 are already in this thread.
====================================

What makes a good rider?
The qualities of a safe and competent rider are:

• critical and honest self-awareness and understanding of your personal characteristics, attitudes and behaviour that are necessary for safe riding

• taking action to keep identified risks to a minimum

• awareness of your own limitations and those of the machine and the road

• awareness of the risks inherent in particular road and traffic situations

• concentration and good observation

• continuously matching the machine's direction and speed to the changing conditions

• skilful use of machine controls.

Motorcycle Roadcraft  Penny Mares et al  p3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 24, 2022, 06:50:11 PM
Because as a rider you have no protective shell in a collision, you are more likely to suffer serious or fatal injuries of the head and neck, or of vital
organs in the thorax and abdomen.
Most riders think they are both safer and more skilful than the average rider- but we can't all be right. In around 2 out of 3 collisions, human error is the principal cause. Riders are most vulnerable to the actions of other road users, as drivers are to blame in half of all motorcycle crashes.
This is why understanding your vulnerability and learning to reduce your risks, especially the risks from the errors of other road users, is so vital.
Riding safety is not an add-on extra - it must be built into the way you ride. Those who ride in poor weather, all year round, have an increased risk of collision, even after other exposure and experience have been taken into account.
Experienced riders who stop riding and take it up again in middle age have a higher than average risk of crashing, possibly because they ride more powerful bikes than they did when younger. Formal training can help to refresh or maintain rusty skills and reduce the risk.
Motorcycle Roadcraft  Penny Mares et al  p6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 25, 2022, 01:10:01 PM
Decision-making
Your brain compares [its visual input] with situations from your experience, identifies what actions you took in the past and chooses a plan of action for the current situation. Your brain assesses the suitability of the proposed plan of action by comparing it with actions that you have carried out safely in similar circumstances before. You use several types of judgement:
• anticipating how events are likely to unfold
• assessing the proposed plan for risk, noting hazards and grading them based on previous experience
• assessing your space, position, speed and gear.

Output
Take action - make an appropriate response.

Feedback
As you put your plan into action, your brain takes in new information and continuously checks it so that you can modify your actions at any time. Developing this ability to a high standard takes experience, practice, alertness and full concentration. The ability to judge a situation, grade risks and anticipate how things are likely to unfold is essential to safe riding, especially at high speeds.
Motorcycle Roadcraft  Penny Mares et al  p45
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 26, 2022, 11:29:11 AM
Look where you want to go.
A bike tends to go where the rider is looking, so when you become aware of a specific hazard, it's vital to keep your head and eyes up and continue scanning the whole scene. If you focus on the pothole or the patch of mud that you want to avoid, your bike is likely to head straight for it. This is known as 'target fixation'.
Keep your eyes on the furthest point to which you want to go. Your vision will take in the hazard as well as everything else, and this will allow you to negotiate it safely without being drawn towards it.
You go where you look, so remember to look where you want to go.
Don't focus on the hazard that you want to avoid.
Motorcycle Roadcraft  Penny Mares et al  p56
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Wild Rose on September 26, 2022, 03:28:36 PM
Thanks Biggles  :-[
I don’t know the amount of pot holes I have hit when I have already spotted them
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Dragonstaff on September 26, 2022, 07:43:16 PM
This one is along the lines of 'Don't watch the approaching headlights, look a little to the left of them.'

It applies to four wheels as well as two, or eighteen.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 27, 2022, 12:28:45 PM
How speed affects observation and anticipation
The faster you go, the further ahead you need to look. This is because as you ride faster, the nearest point at which you can accurately focus moves away from you. Foreground detail becomes blurred and observation becomes more difficult because you have to process a lot more information in less time. The only way to cope with this is to scan further ahead, beyond the point where your eyes naturally come to rest, to give yourself more time to assess, plan and react.
At higher speeds, you will travel further before you can react to what you have seen and you need to build this into your safe stopping distance.
Remember the safe stopping distance rule:
Always ride so you can stop safely within the distance you can see to be clear on your own side of the road.
Motorcycle Roadcraft  Penny Mares et al  p63
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 28, 2022, 12:26:52 PM
Riding through water
Slow down as you approach a flooded area as water may conceal a hazard such as an object or deep hole. When you have to ride through water, slow to a walking pace and ride through the shallowest part but look out for hidden obstacles or subsidence.
If the road is entirely submerged, stop the machine in a safe place and cautiously find out how deep the water is. The depth of water that you can safely ride through depends on how high your machine stands off the ground and where the electrical components are positioned.
If you decide to ride on, follow the steps below:
• Engage first gear and keep the engine running fast by slipping the clutch. This prevents water entering the exhaust pipe. Use the rear brake to control the road speed, especially when riding downhill into a ford.
• Ride through the water at a slow even speed - a slow walking pace. Keep the bike upright.
• When you leave the water, continue riding slowly and apply the brakes lightly until they grip. Repeat this again after a short while until you're confident that both brakes are working normally. This also applies if you have pushed your machine through the water.
Motorcycle Roadcraft  Penny Mares et al  p88
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 29, 2022, 02:26:34 PM
Forces that help stability
Because of the steering design on a motorcycle, a bike is stable when travelling in a straight line, and the front wheel has a self-straightening tendency when steered left or right. The forces involved will tend to pull the front wheel back in line if you release pressure on the handlebars. The gyroscopic effect also tends to keep a motorcycle stable. Think of a spinning top. When you spin a top fast enough, it becomes stable around its spinning axis. The same applies to the wheels of a motorcycle once they're rotating fast enough.
These forces also help the front wheel to straighten if it's temporarily knocked off line, for example by hitting a bump in the carriageway. This is why your position on the bike is important - with your body and arms in the correct position you get the most benefit from this self-correcting tendency.

Steering
When you turn the handlebars, the tyre contact patch on the ground moves away from the machine's centre line. The centre of gravity is no longer above the centre line, so the machine will begin to lean. When this happens, cornering forces combine to help you to lean into the turn.
Motorcycle Roadcraft  Penny Mares et al  pp133-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on September 30, 2022, 11:40:57 AM
Following position
In a stream of traffic, always keep a safe distance behind the vehicle in front. Follow the two-second rule. Leave a gap of at least two seconds between you and the vehicle in front, depending on conditions.
Keeping your distance increases your safety because:
• you have a good view, and can increase it along both sides by slight changes of position - this enables you to be fully aware of what is happening on the road ahead
• you can stop your bike safely if the driver in front brakes firmly without warning
• you can extend your braking distance so that the driver behind has more time to react, especially if they are driving too close
• you can see when it's safe to move into the overtaking position
• in wet weather, you get less spray from the vehicle in front.
You should generally position your machine to the rear offside of the vehicle you're following. From this position you are:
• visible through the inside and offside door mirrors of the driver in front
• able to move into an overtaking position by reducing the following distance (i.e. without needing to change position as well)
• able to escape to either side should an emergency arise.
Motorcycle Roadcraft  Penny Mares et al  p182
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 01, 2022, 12:28:33 PM
Developing your competence at overtaking safely
The height, manoeuvrability and rapid acceleration of motorcycles are great advantages for overtaking. These features, together with their need for less road space than vehicles on four wheels, should make motorcycles the safest of all vehicles on which to overtake. The fact that they're not is because riders fail to appreciate all the hazards involved.
Overtaking is hazardous because it may bring you into the path of other vehicles, including the vehicle you are overtaking. It's a complex manoeuvre in which you need to consider the primary hazard of the vehicle(s) you want to overtake, as well as a number of secondary hazards as the primary hazard moves amongst them. It requires you to negotiate dynamic hazards (moving vehicles) as well as fixed ones (such as road layout).
Motorcycle Roadcraft  Penny Mares et al  p190
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on October 01, 2022, 12:34:45 PM
Recently I saw a guy overlook the fact that it was a double-B, not a normal semi that he was overtaking.
Luckily for the rider, an oncoming car ran off the road to avoid converting the rider into windscreen jam.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on October 01, 2022, 01:17:45 PM
That situation is when its great to have a UHF set to ch 40. costs nothing to call up the truck to request clearance..
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 02, 2022, 02:11:59 PM
Memories stirred as I watched a father and his young son dismounting their motorcycle in the parking lot of the nearby restaurant. As the boy removed his helmet, the grin I knew would surely be there shone brightly for the entire world to see.
As the father removed his own helmet, I could see what I expected there too. We traded nods as he listened to his son excitedly explain some aspect of their ride. His face was an interesting combination of emotions. Satisfaction for a well executed ride, pleasure at his son's obvious enjoyment, and a little anxiety that he was so responsible for something so precious to himself. Wanting to protect his son but knowing he must expose the boy to the world in order for him to someday become a man. This is a look I know well from my childhood. I saw it many times on my Dad, but never really understood completely until long after I had become an adult.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer  pxv
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 04, 2022, 10:49:13 AM
Normally on a road trip if you want to make your bike look good sometime along the way, you have to carry some cleaning supplies. Chrome polish, wax, and Armor-all are usually in my arsenal. I also carry a can of Lemon Pledge for my helmet. This is an old biker's trick, the Lemon Pledge cleans bugs and stuff of your faceplate like nothing else, and has the added benefit of making water bead up and blow off if you are in the rain. It also reduces the crazing you can usually see in the plastic face shield when riding into the sun. The problem is that space is limited, and all these products take up valuable and needed space.
Here comes a product endorsement: "Can Do" replaces all of those products, hands down. After washing the bikes in the car wash, mine was still a mess. The high-pressure spray, on soap, directed at my pipes from less than an inch away would not cut the baked-on gook. Also the water there was extremely "hard" and left a bad film on both bikes.
Out came the "Can Do" and a couple of rags.
I sprayed this stuff on a section of my pipes and let it sit for about 30 seconds. The gook wiped right off, leaving shiny chrome underneath. No problem. Easy. I was stunned.
"Hey James, check this out." I did it again to another section. James stunned. We had been talking about buying oven-cleaner for this task.
We then proceeded to wipe every part of both bikes down. In no time we had two clean, shiny, and remarkable machines. You would never guess they had just travelled hundreds of miles, much less the mess mine had been earlier. This stuff works, and works well. It is all I will ever carry for this task in the future.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer  p42
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 05, 2022, 11:05:22 AM
We crested a small hill and looked forward to at least 15 miles of road, slightly uphill, with both sides of the road clearly visible the entire way. There was no traffic in sight and had been none since we passed the truck some miles back. At that moment a particularly rollicking tune started on my mp3 player.
"Well Oiled Machine" chose that moment to get frisky.
"Come on. Let's go." she clearly said.
"Can't, I'm following James." I responded. "Got to go. Got to go now. Got to. Got to. Got to. Go faster. Must go faster!" she insisted. I'll have to watch that super unleaded gas... I think it has caffeine in it.
"Ok." I am a pushover for a beautiful woman.
I tweaked the throttle and shot past James. He would have no problem knowing what I was up to. The road in front of us was self-explanatory.
I never hit full throttle. Within seconds she was at 135 mph and the tachometer was redlined at 8500 rpm. She was still accelerating and showed no signs of running out of power, but I let off, as I did not want to go over the redline.
"Well Oiled Machine" was smooth and stable, with no unusual vibration or shimmy. I held the speed for a few moments, but was soon cresting the hill. I let off it and gradually slowed back down to 75 mph or so. She is an incredible machine. The torque and power available are nothing short of amazing. [1980 Suzuki 1100XS]
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer  pp51-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 06, 2022, 01:38:24 PM
This is the classic left turn motorcycle killer, except there was absolutely no obstruction to anyone's vision. These morons are the reason the law requires us to have a headlight on all the time. Fat lot of good that does... people gotta look up every once in a while.
I pulled an extreme braking/evasive trick and ended up stopped in the intersection- kind of right in the middle. "The Dragon" is graceful and responsive under pressure. I am a big and strong guy, and the Valkyrie and I mesh together well. Barely missed the errant car, and the driver was looking at me wide-eyed as she passed by.
Sheesh. Bad enough, but the car following her was blissfully unaware that he should also yield to oncoming traffic that has the green. Oh crap! says the little voice again. I am stopped in the exact center of the entire intersection... the place that no car ever occupies if everyone is doing everything right, so I am no longer a factor. There are other cars behind me however... The oncoming turner is apparently fixated on the preceding car and is not paying attention. He barely clears me (I do not think he ever saw me) and creams the car that was passing by me in the center lane through the intersection. Pretty much a head-on. I get heavily sprayed with flying glass and gasoline, and got a very good close up view of the ass end of his car as it "whooshes" by me in an arc spewing gas, but fortunately get missed by all the heavier bits randomly travelling about the intersection. Brrrrr... I can still read you his license number... it is etched into my brain.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer  pp93-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: CallMeSteve on October 06, 2022, 06:20:34 PM
Wow.  The stuff of recurring nightmares.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 07, 2022, 10:42:40 AM
Arizona's finest were out fleecing the tourists, so we pegged the speed at 75-80, set the cruise, and left it. We spotted 12 cruisers within about 30 miles; a rough calculation and we figure they are bringing in about $8000 per hour. This is more officers than we saw in the entire rest of the trip. If crime is so low in Arizona that you can put 20 guys on a 30-mile stretch of road, then here is a hint: fire the cops and put a couple more cents tax on the gas. I'll take my chances with the speeders, rather than with the cop cars and tourists parked all over the Interstate, not to mention the police cruisers turning around in the median and scattering dust, gravel, and unwary travellers that happen to be in their path.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer  p128
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 08, 2022, 01:07:17 PM
Friday morning I slept in a bit (normally I have to get up around 4:00am for work), finished loading "The Dragon", took my wife for a leisurely breakfast, and much to the amusement of the restaurant patrons there, passionately kissed her goodbye. We got sporadic applause.
I pulled out of Dallas around 9:00am. Once again I chose my route with avoiding the super-slabs in mind. Due to constant construction, massive truck traffic, bleak scenery, and dazed cage drivers, Interstate-35 is boring and marginally unsafe for motorcycles.
I caught US67 out of Dallas, headed for US281 at Hico. US67 is a pain, it has been under construction for years, and they are apparently not getting anywhere. When I stopped for gas at Glen Rose, I nearly dumped "The Dragon", as they have constructed concrete curbs and edgings along the street, but paved the street with blacktop which is for some reason about 3" below the level of the concrete edgings. I did not see the edge till I hit it in a mild turn into the parking lot. Guess I should have been watching closer, even though it is a brand new street.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer  p160
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 09, 2022, 03:24:22 PM
I entered a really odd fog just north of Interstate-10 and stayed in it for miles. It was almost surreal, the sun was up and the fog was only at ground level. Visibility was only about 1/4 of a mile, but within that circle it was was sunny and the visibility was crisp.
This gave the very strong illusion that I was not moving at all, rather that I was stationary, and things were moving into and out of being. I have ridden many thousands of miles, and this is the first time I have ridden in conditions quite like this. From my perspective, the world did not exist outside my sphere of influence, and all things (like many, many deer) were simply created in front of me, moved silently behind me, and then were destroyed as they vanished.
Eventually a Harley rider was created in front of me, and as he slowly slid backwards toward me, he moved over to share his lane with waved me by. As I paralleled him for a moment I looked over at him, to find him looking at me. I am sure I was wearing the same ecstatic grin on my face that he had on his. A mutual thumbs up, and I pulled away in front. It was almost with regret that I let him vanish in the mists behind me.
Life Is A Road  Daniel Meyer  p171
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 10, 2022, 11:30:44 AM
My situation is more extreme but it is a myth to suggest that all you have to do is ride very fast to get around the world in 19 days. In theory, all you have to do is ride at 50 mph for 20 or so hours a day and rest when the bike is being shipped. I didn't know it then, but riding fast, 24 hours a day for days at a time without sleep and only the slimmest of margins to fuel, lubricate, feed, water and empty the bike and the body was still not the whole truth. Getting around a thousand corners quickly whilst simultaneously watching a selection of surfaces all of which if misinterpreted could kill you, is but another underrated riding skill you need to have; but it's not just that, as every single item of road furniture, millions of them, must be avoided. Technically, as you learn to instantly recognise different traffic patterns, it's more than this. You also begin to 'download' life information into smaller bits, with especial reference to road information that breaks it down into something less chunky. One aspect of my life surely has something to do with whittling the world down to a more manageable size. With this in mind, I rode a bike, but it was only the road that changed, everything else more or less remained the same.
Journey Beyond Reason  Nick Sanders  p22
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 11, 2022, 06:11:41 PM
By three in the morning the black clouds were dumping their load of rain again, making surface conditions treacherous and delaying the arrival of daylight. Sitting on my bike in the rain, alone on the side of the road, I was beginning to feel ill. It was a very uncomfortable vibration in my body that was a degree or so less tremulous than shaking and still I had at least 12 hours more to ride. Forcibly being kept awake against a back drop of severe fatigue is a known method of torture. Riding for two and a half days with no sleep must be a kind of self harm. As the comfort zone diminishes to the point when it is nearly not there, that is the time when ambition overrides sanity. When it did get light, the rain stopped and I power napped for a few minutes which made me feel immediately better. All I had do was cross Bulgaria and even though I didn't stop for breakfast my spirits rose and the tremors stopped.
Bulgaria came and went and soon I crossed the border into Turkey at Svilengrad and reached the motorway to Edime and onto Istanbul where my friend Ikbal was to meet me on the outskirts of the city.
Journey Beyond Reason  Nick Sanders  pp42-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 13, 2022, 09:47:34 PM
Why on earth would someone keep on riding around the world like this? Well, to tell a secret, such repetition had become my only contribution to life. The act of motorcycling around the world is such a bizarre and little-known skill - its use to humanity could be described as nil but I was unsure about this. It certainly represented the story of a human being living on the edge; one who crossed ten thousand traffic junctions when it needed only one miscreant with a bullock cart to end it all; when rider, dreamer, essayist and father could, in an instant, have his face forced through skin and bone against the animal's rib cage. Wherever he was in that envelope of space, he had to acknowledge that his life was now just a game of numbers.
Journey Beyond Reason  Nick Sanders  pp68-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 14, 2022, 09:50:51 PM
Hyderabad is arguably India's fastest growing city and with such a display of western identikit commercialism, it was a credible claim. Leaving the gas station I just managed to climb on the bike and freewheeled onto the road, unable to remember when riding last felt so bad. It was really difficult to ride. Hands swollen, aching all over, I wanted to collapse but what would that serve? Who would look after me then? Why hadn't anyone taught me to look after myself, because this suffering need not have happened. Each journey takes everyone to a place that is hard to get to and harder to get back from. Suddenly, across the road and through the fumes I noticed a chemist and elbowing my way across four lanes of belligerent traffic, I pushed my way inside and pointed to the sun. The chemist knew exactly what was needed and gave me a box of powder. I mixed three sachets in a bottle of Coke and carried on. I felt so strange and kneeled down on the ground beside my bike and lay on my back twice more before I left the city limits and already it was dark. I'd got it bad. So far this journey across Hyderabad had taken four hours when it should have taken one. The only reason there was no vomit was because I hadn't eaten anything. Then my nose started to bleed.
Journey Beyond Reason  Nick Sanders  p84
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 16, 2022, 01:27:46 PM
The worst thing you can do is have nothing going on in your head. So I have a discussion going on in my head - I ask myself why do I do this journey? Does it have any meaning?
You're a prisoner in your helmet. I can't stop riding, I can't afford to stop concentrating. So my mind becomes my freedom - your body and mind will always find ways of expanding.
You get to the point where you think you can do anything - it might be endomorphins, a physiological high. It only comes after several hundred miles. Towards the end I float.
Psychologists might say that it's dangerous, that I'm fooling myself- but how can they possibly know what it's like? They haven't done it.
Journey Beyond Reason  Nick Sanders  p96
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 17, 2022, 04:10:04 PM
Apart from having enough skill to stay upright, the most important attribute needed to successfully complete a project like this is endurance, which is simply a question of dislocating from the pain. If part of that pain is physical, we are told to visualise the opposite, so in my mind I imagined what it was like to float. When you hear of winners heading towards the line, they tell you it no longer hurts. They say you fly like the wind and everything is clear. At such rare times, it's almost other worldly and it becomes impossible to fail. There are times when any biker feels like this. When in your helmet you are smiling so much your cheeks cramp. In your helmet you are laughing with the joy of riding and although it sounds unbelievable, every real motorcyclist knows it to be true; that in between all the hard times, when it doesn't work out, when all around you is grey, there are those few occasions when absolutely nothing is better than riding your bike and you ride on automatic, while thoughts about your life fly past in your head.
Journey Beyond Reason  Nick Sanders  p102
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 18, 2022, 08:32:14 PM
I'd never intended to ride so much in the dark, but once again the development of this journey seemed to take on a life of its own. The concentration needed to avoid animals at night exhausted me and I drew from reserves I never knew I had. Wildlife on the road was a consideration for everybody driving at night. Big trucks have been forced into the gutter by hitting large kangaroos. It was much more of a problem for motorcyclists. The risk of serious injury was very high.  Truck drivers warned me that the chance of a collision could be as high as 80%. Under exceptional times of drought or when a herd was in the area. they all said to me that a motorcyclist might not get through. A small 'roo would bend the forks, smash a fairing or throw you off the bike; a large one would write it off. A small one would perhaps break your legs, a big mother would kill you. Wombats tense instantly prior to impact and people who have hit them and survived say it's like hitting a boulder. Dead road kill that hasn't been picked clean by the crows will still be fresh and their organs something on which to slip. I have lost count of the number of times I have missed a swollen carcass by inches and a fraction of a second.
Journey Beyond Reason  Nick Sanders  p125
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 19, 2022, 04:06:09 PM
The 650 miles to Auckland was very important but it was essentially a linking part of the project, connecting the 5000 mile journey around Australia to the 7000 mile ride around North America. In one sense, the whole thing was ridiculous. Its meaning would soon be fossilised into some abyss of forgetfulness. Some poet or wit would have it relegated to stupidity before the ink was dry. Did I care? Of course not. From where I was, it was easy to imagine that no one would be interested in this event for any longer than the time it took to read about it in the papers, if it even got in them. And I expected the number of days to be miscalculated and my name to be spelt incorrectly. Apart from a few family members and friends and some genuine, enlightened others, it was a fair bet that no one would care. Except, I did.
Journey Beyond Reason  Nick Sanders  p144
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 20, 2022, 03:24:13 PM
I was also tiring. It had rained heavily for a thousand miles and while it wasn't cold, it added resistance against progress through the air that my weakening body had to overcome. In the traffic during the day, plumes of spray obscured everything beyond a twenty metre radius around me and ironically, the busier the route, the less traffic I could actually see. If there was a pile-up ahead I would not know until it was too late. If I went down I would certainly be driven over by following traffic. From what I'd seen of North American car drivers, very few would have the ability to take avoiding action. The size of the roads and lumbering nature of most of the vehicles did not provide people with the need of any practice of thinking and reacting quickly. There are stories of motorcycle victims surviving a fall on the interstate only to be run over and killed by ten vehicles that failed to brake. Slow reaction time makes for murderous roads.
Indian drivers wave wildly and want to chat as you pass whereas Americans stare straight ahead with a look that suggests they'd prefer it if you weren't there. With their rebellious clothing adorned with patches and their de rigueur bandanas, motorcyclists here present a more intimidating presence than their European counterparts. On bikes the size of small cars, the greasy biker brigade have long since been replaced by middle aged people trying to recreate a time in their life when the surfer / biker look represented freedom.
Journey Beyond Reason  Nick Sanders  p172
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 21, 2022, 02:06:04 PM
Then, as the family got bigger he moved on to a motorbike and sidecar. We didn't get our first family car until I was a teenager. Even then I remember thinking that driving around in our pea green Ford Prefect was never going to be as much fun as standing on the seat in the sidecar with the roof rolled back as we raced across the Yorkshire Moors. I can still remember the sheer breathtaking feel of wind in my face and the effort needed not to laugh out loud or scream with joy because having your mouth open meant flies for dinner. My dad was not a fanatic though and saw motorbikes merely as a means of transport, that could easily be replaced when cars became more affordable. One of my early boyfriends had a small machine, I don't remember what make it was, but it was dirty and noisy. He took me out once on the pillion and my only real memory of that occasion was when he dropped me off and said "I'm not doing that again, you're hopeless at leaning - you have to lean with me." It might have helped if he had explained that before we set off and then when the bike leaned to one side I wouldn't have been leaning to the other, trying to be helpful and act as a counterbalance in case we toppled over!
Missus On A Motorbike  Jackie Hartley  p8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 22, 2022, 09:46:58 AM
In the meantime I was getting on with getting out on the road. Just as I had spent days riding round the car park opposite, I now spent about a week riding round my left hand looping circle. Although this route was only about four miles long it had plenty of hazards to get to grips with - roundabouts, traffic lights, left turns, big main roads, country lanes, hills and bends and changing speed limits. Every time I wobbled back onto our drive I felt like I had just done a lap of the Isle of Man TT races, whatever they are. It was exhilarating. I always chose my time to go out very carefully and found that six o'clock in the evening was the best time because the rush hour traffic had gone and the roads were quiet before people started coming out for the evening. Nevertheless I still managed to make a real fool of myself on regular occasions. The thing I had most difficulty with was roundabouts. As I started to ride a bit faster I would find myself approaching roundabouts in third gear hoping they would be clear and I could keep going but then if I had to stop I was always in the wrong gear for starting off again. So I would then spend ages trying to get into first gear whilst the bike was at a stand still and, worrying about kangarooing off. I would also want to check it was in neutral before re-engaging it in first gear. All this took time and the cars around me were probably fed up of waiting for me, though in fairness, none ever gave me any trouble. Thank goodness for L plates that's all I can say.
Missus On A Motorbike  Jackie Hartley  p58
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 23, 2022, 10:29:06 AM
There I was, trying to look all cool and confident but as I pushed the bike forward energetically, it slammed to a halt with me nearly going over the handlebars. Talk about uncool. Then one day I was in the local petrol station and noticed that one of the biking magazines had a free gift on the front called a disk lock reminder. It was a bright lime green coiled stretchy thing with a key ring loop at one end and a loop of cord at the other. The key ring loop fits over your disk lock and then you have to stretch the coil and loop the other end over your handlebar. In fact, reading the article about the free gift and why they had included it, I learnt that my experiences were fairly trivial. Some bikers have tried to ride off at speed and ended up with damaged brake calipers, cracked mudguards, scratched wheel forks and twisted brake disks. Others ended up dropping their bikes causing all sorts of damage and in some cases, the riders and their pillion passengers were badly hurt as bikes fell over or collar bones were broken when their shoulders were badly jarred as as their bikes hit the kerb. So in spite of the fact that when it is in place my bike looks like it is being attacked by a bright green slinky, I started to use it all the time and never forgot to take the disk lock off again.
Missus On A Motorbike  Jackie Hartley  pp90-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 24, 2022, 08:44:49 PM
I decided to go looking for a magazine that specialised in cruisers but they did not seem to be as readily available as the magazines that were for fans of sports bikes. Then one day in W H Smiths I spotted a magazine with a cruiser on the front but unfortunately it was heat sealed inside a plastic cover so I couldn't get a look at the contents. I bought it anyway and took it home to read. When I opened it up it was full of customised easy rider type motorbikes mainly being used as props for practically naked women to loll all over. Captions like Cindy loves the feel of this hot rod between her legs and Suzie knows she will get the ride of her life on this were everywhere. I was embarrassed. Did anyone I know see me buying it? I showed it to Mike in disgust and he spent ages checking it out "You don't need to read it from cover to cover" I snapped. "I'm not reading, I'm looking" he said. I threw it away much to his chagrin. "There were some really interesting bikes in there," he said. Yeh, right.
Missus On A Motorbike  Jackie Hartley  p114
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 25, 2022, 05:57:30 PM
Norman came out to take a look, limping heavily on his newly fitted artificial leg. He looked at the bike and said "That's a nice little bike you've got there, you've kept that nice," so I waxed lyrical about my little dream machine. Then Norman asked me if he could sit on it.
I said "I don't know Norman, can you sit on it?" He looked carefully at it and then asked me to hold the handlebars whilst he swung his good leg over the very low seat. There he sat, the biggest grin on his face.
"Do you know, I think I could manage one of these, it's so low you see, I can get my leg over and I can flick the side stand down with my hand whilst I'm sitting here. Mind you, it would have to be adapted with the gears on the handlebars but I bet it could be done." He looked so excited it brought a lump to my throat. I turned to Anne who was standing nearby looking quite nervous.
"Anne, he's going to want one now, don't blame me, you asked me to bring it round," I said knowing I would be in for some stick later if he did get it into his head that he wanted one and Anne was against it. However, Anne just smiled. I think she was pleased to see Norman so happy and if he wanted an adapted bike, well they'd face that hurdle when they got to it.
A few weeks later I watched a man with a terrible wasting disease being interviewed on the local news, about a medical breakthrough that might lead to a cure for his illness. As he struggled to get his breathe he said "If I could just enough breath to have one more go on my motorbike I would be a happy man." Now that did make me cry because I think I partly understood what he was talking about. This motorbike thing gets under your skin.
Missus On A Motorbike  Jackie Hartley  pp119-120
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 26, 2022, 10:56:03 AM
As I had suspected, Mike was waiting for me in a lay-by halfway down the other side, a big grin on his face. He gave me the thumbs up sign and we set off again and made our way down through the dales. Many of the villages in the Derbyshire Dales are incredibly pretty clusters of lovely old stone cottages with hanging baskets, village greens and duck ponds, and it was a delight to slowly ride through them with our visors up, taking it all in. I don't remember enjoying seeing them this much through the windscreen of a car. On motorbikes you feel much more immersed into your surroundings, you see things more close up and you get all the smells of new mown grass and summer crops, as well as muck spreading of course. It all just feels somehow closer and more real.
Missus On A Motorbike  Jackie Hartley  pp146-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 27, 2022, 01:34:18 PM
Later that morning, as my hangover began to subside, I decided to photograph my bike and then make up an advert to put up on the wall at the bike school. I had seen a few adverts up there and my little bike was so lovely that somebody doing their Compulsory Basic Training was sure to see it and want it. So I got the bike out and gave it a really good clean. I used to think that people who spent a lot of time cleaning their motorbikes were very sad and should get a life but I do exactly the same now. Bikes are not like cars, they cannot just be run through the car wash once a week. They need to be cleaned down carefully, every exposed part wiped clean and lovingly polished by hand so that they gleam. All that chrome looks just beautiful when it is glistening in the sunshine. Some motorbikes look like they have, in the words of Annie Proux, been 'ridden hard and put away dirty' and I hate to see that. Besides which my bike is designed to be cleaned and shown off, it is not one of the drudges of the bike world so I have to get my chrome polish out like the rest of those sad people who spend part of their weekends making their machines look as good as new.
Missus On A Motorbike  Jackie Hartley  pp196-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 28, 2022, 06:14:03 PM
We chatted away for about ten minutes, at the end of which he knew all about my life as a would-be biker and I knew all about the bike. He had bought it from someone who hardly ever rode it but kept it in a garage and spent time adding accessories to it. Apparently this happens quite a lot with Harleys. People love the idea of owning one, so buy one, then dress them up in accessories but don't actually get round to riding them much. In our street, rumour has it that the bloke on the corner has a brand new Sportster in his garage which he cleans every weekend but never rides! If I had known that then I might have approached him to see if we could do a deal. I ride the bike, he garages and cleans it! Anyway, Jim the seller, sounded trustworthy and friendly so I arranged to go and see the bike on the Saturday afternoon, after I had delivered the Virago to Les in the morning.
Missus On A Motorbike  Jackie Hartley  p234
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 29, 2022, 12:11:52 PM
Bella soon began to feel like I had owned and ridden her all my life. I could now keep up with Mike everywhere except on the motorway where the V-Rod just took off into the distance. I found that a steady 60 mile an hour felt fine but much above that and the bike began to vibrate all the way up through the footpegs, my feet, my legs and into my bottom. Mike thought this was hilarious and began to call her my Sporting Tractor! I could reach higher speeds if I needed to, but long journeys without a windscreen and at bone shaking high speeds always left me feeling like I had been beaten all over with sticks so I preferred to look for slower, more scenic routes. Riding through the dales, shattering the peace and scaring the wildlife, I began to realise that it took real skill to ride Bella well. I couldn't always rely on the extra power to get me out of trouble. Riding at the higher speeds I had to learn to read the road more quickly and give more forethought to gear changes.
Missus On A Motorbike  Jackie Hartley  pp261-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 30, 2022, 12:48:57 PM
There is something about a trip that takes over the mind. The crew foreman, dark and deeply wrinkled by 23 years on roofs, told us about an automobile trip he had taken across country when he graduated from high school. He could have been talking about last summer. To save money, he had slept in the car, washed up in gas station restrooms, and eaten bread and cheese he bought at grocery stores in the little towns. He worried about the car because it used a quart of oil between fill-ups but it made it fine and continued to run for two years after the trip. If he could get another one like it today, he'd buy it in a minute.
One of the younger men told us about his brother, who had gone with a friend on a cross-country motorcycle trip. They had run short of money several days from home and started sleeping in public parks. One night it had rained, but they found a picnic shelter and slept on the tables, wearing their rain gear. They arrived home with their gas tanks on reserve and less than a dollar between them.
The stories were always of hard times. Of going to places made more beautiful by the glad harshness of the road. Of meeting people and walking with them on the edge. Experiencing life.
Purple Mountains  Notch Miyake  pp18-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on October 31, 2022, 04:07:00 PM
The Norton rider came to my table after I sat down. He had come to the restaurant for a cup of coffee, but it had been just an excuse to ride the Norton.
"The bike's in restoration," he said, "but it's rideable." It was an unnecessary apology, made to establish his standards.
"Looks perfect to me," I replied.
"Nah, the handlebars and controls are screwed up. The guy that owned the bike before changed them. He thought he was upgrading the machine. Damn parts are hard to get now-a-days, so I left the old bars on so I can ride."
I thought of the stark honesty of the Norton. Real motorcycling. Noisy, unreliable, uncomfortable, dangerous enjoyment. I was momentarily ashamed of the BMW I was riding. It electric starter and a small fairing that kept the wind off my chest.
Then I recalled the British bikes I rode in the '50s and the vibration that numbed every part the body that touched the bike. It was so bad it even numbed my adolescent sex drive. The BMW is smooth and quiet, and I get off at the end of the day feeling fine.
Besides, these days I need all the sex drive I can get.
Purple Mountains  Notch Miyake  p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 01, 2022, 01:00:49 PM
Bill came back in and invited me to join him at his table. "I really want one of those new GSs," he said, turning over a pile of motorcycle magazines. "Look, it was reviewed in Cycle World this month."
I leafed through the magazine but it really didn't interest me.
"I went on a diet once and got to be just as slim as you," he said. I was dubious, but said nothing.
"I knew it wouldn't last so I got a small bike, a Honda 350, while I could enjoy it. I really had a good time with it. Now, of course, I'd need a big machine."
His knowledge of motorcycles was broad and accurate, so I had to take him seriously. We talked about motorcycles long enough to establish our mutual respect, then turned to other subjects.
"You know," he said, "People are afraid when they first look at me. But when I tell them I am a nurse, it's okay." Bill was a nurse at a mental hospital. His size was an asset with some of the more unruly patients.
It turns out that Jackson is really best known for its mental hospital and maximum-security prison. So much for its history as the original capital of Mississippi.
Purple Mountains  Notch Miyake  p65
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 02, 2022, 08:22:59 PM
On the way out of Jackson, the rain forest abruptly opened into cleared fields, some partially flooded. Cattle grazed on the high spots and there were no trees to break the view. A steel mesh fence topped by coils of razor wire ran next to the road. Another similar fence stood behind it, and finally a long wall. The prison. The open areas between the fences were live fire zones for shooting escapees. I stopped along the road. The plain walls, fences, and open fields seemed to darken the already grey day. It was a malevolently desolate place. A community of outcasts, raging together. A van full of prisoners passed. All of them turned to look at me, freedom on every mind. They had the same look that ended almost every encounter I have had on the trip. If I could have heard them, they would have said, like almost everyone else, "I wish I could do that."
Here, criminals were imprisoned by walls and the force of arms. Nearby, there were people imprisoned by their minds. And everywhere, there were people imprisoned by their lives.
Purple Mountains  Notch Miyake  pp66-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 03, 2022, 10:54:14 AM
Steve bought his BMW the year before from a dealer in Albuquerque. He'd had the head ported and had installed lightweight wrist pins, dual plugs, and Mikuni carburettors— more than $1,800 in modifications. He said he had blown away a mildly hopped-up Harley in one of those classic midnight drag races.
You know the kind.
Harley Owner to Steve: Why did you buy that piece of shit? It would have a hard time outrunning a donkey.
Steve: Oh yeah? Well, it will outrun that piece of shit you ride.
Harley Owner: Oh yeah?
And so on. The Harley owner looked over Steve's bike after the race and noticed the dual plugs and Mikunis. "Hey," he said, "This bike ain't stock." He immediately tore down his bike and went very radical. Their second time out, the Harley blew up.
There are three forms of motorcycle fanaticism. Steve's buddies were cruisers, guys with attitudes and a love of chrome. I am a touring type, a travelling motorcycle cheapskate for whom distance is everything. And then there are the speed freaks, the guys in racing leathers you sometimes see on Sunday mornings bent over crotch rockets flying down deserted canyon roads.
Purple Mountains  Notch Miyake  pp83-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 04, 2022, 12:54:27 PM
The next morning I left before anybody else was awake. I stopped at the Shoreline Market for breakfast. There were two motorcycles and a tractor-trailer parked in front. I walked in carrying my helmet and one of the motorcycle riders asked me to join them at a large table. The two truckers on the rig outside were also at the table. There was nobody else in the restaurant.
We talked about travel. The truckers spent all but two weeks of the year on the road, and had been doing it for years. They slept in the rig, alternating driving to keep moving, and stopping in truck stops to shower and refuel. Both of them were divorced.
"It comes with the territory."
They both agreed that trucking was a tough way to make a living, but they didn't think they could do anything else. Whenever they were not on the road they usually got drunk, holed up with some woman, and regretted it later. The road imposed a discipline they knew they needed to survive.
The two bikers were travelling together on a five-day vacation trip up the coast. They stayed in motels because they found the campgrounds were usually crowded and had lousy facilities, as I had discovered.
Purple Mountains  Notch Miyake  p115
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 05, 2022, 12:02:07 PM
I was passing RVs almost all day. None of them seemed to go the speed limit and staying behind them meant riding in a muddy mess of dirt and small stones. I had to wipe my face shield with the back of my glove every few seconds to clear off the mud so I could see. In the open, the clean rain and wind keeps the shield clear.
It began to rain seriously after lunch. I was wearing my longjohns, regular riding clothes, a sweater, and my leather jacket under my rainsuit. It was cold. My gloves were soaked and my fingers got so numb that I had trouble pulling the clutch and front brake levers.
I stopped at Haines Junction for coffee and to warm up after crossing Boulder Summit. I wasn't tired, but my senses seemed dulled, as though I were feeling things a few seconds after they happened.
If I kept going, I could get to Haines today. But the border closed at 5:00 and I might not make it. That meant camping overnight by the side of the road or in a primitive campground. In the rain.
The restaurant I had stopped in had a small motel attached.
The Cozy Corner.
"How much is a room in the motel?"
"$60."
Only $45 US, I thought.
"I'll take one." The room was clean and spartan. It had a portable TV, low stand and an armchair next to the bed. There was a tub and plenty of hot water. I soaked in it until the chill was replaced by a warm glow. That was worth the price of admission.
Purple Mountains  Notch Miyake  p166
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 06, 2022, 01:15:01 PM
Harry was a retired farmer, still farming, but retired. He was lean and agile, still looking like he could muscle big bags of seed into the planter. Alice was white-haired and matronly, even in her leathers. She was a passenger on this ride, but she usually rode her own bike. All of them had a solid Midwestern goodness that their biker disguise could not overcome. The kind of goodness that rushes to open doors for old ladies and cuts the neighbour's lawn while they are off on vacation. Decent people.
Jean was the oldest of the bunch but looked the youngest, probably because she dyed her hair. Al had a few medical problems. Seventy years old and a sugar diabetic.
"This might be his last big ride," said Harry. "He had a serious problem because he stopped taking his pills. He had to go in the hospital, so we delayed our trip.
"As soon as they let him out, he wanted to leave. He's supposed to go for outpatient treatment, but he just took off. And when he got to feeling better, he stopped the pills again. I sure hope he makes it home."
Harry said all this, understanding that Al was dying and needed to experience the road one last time. I almost understood. But would I be willing to ride alongside someone committing suicide?
Maybe. If he rode tall through the Frazier Valley and felt the hope in the desert. If he rode into the mountains and felt the air richen and cool. If he knew this part of the world was blue because he didn't look at it through tinted glass. If he didn't have to open a door to experience a place because he was always outside. If he didn't come out of the rain and cold because he couldn't anyway. If he forgot that he was 70 years old and a little shaky from the pills. If he laid down on the grass and slept when he was tired.
Sure I'd do it. Even though they would say I helped kill him.
Purple Mountains  Notch Miyake  pp172-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 07, 2022, 12:50:12 PM
Sandwiches here are either sold alone, meaning without extras, or "In a basket," meaning with fries and coleslaw.
Ordering lunch was an adventure.
"I'd like an egg salad sandwich and french fries."
"In a basket."
"A plate is okay."
"It comes on a plate."
"Good."
"Do you want coleslaw?"
"What?"
"Do you want coleslaw or a side of fries?"
"I'd like an egg salad sandwich and french fries."
"In a basket?"
This was getting repetitious. "Okay. However you serve it."
"Okay. Egg salad in a basket."
"With fries."
"Okay."
I waited expectantly for my lunch basket. It came on a plate with a mound of fries and a tiny paper cup of coleslaw. Like the waitress said, no basket.
Purple Mountains  Notch Miyake  p194
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 08, 2022, 12:08:15 PM
When we were settled at a table I asked Kate why she rode such a tall bike.
"My old boyfriend said I should get a BMW because they so reliable. I got a good deal on this one, so I bought it. I'm getting used to it. I still drop it a lot, but there is usually somebody around to help me pick it up."
All BMWs are tall motorcycles, so I asked, "Why don't you get a Honda or something like that?"
"Oh, no. I like owning a BMW and meeting all the BMW people. There are BMW riders everywhere I go. I just don't see many Hondas except for Gold Wings." True. Honda sells a lot more motorcycles, but I had seen more BMWs on the road than anything else. Of course, that could be because I was on a BMW myself. Still, would I ride a bike that was way too tall just because of brand loyalty? We're not talking Chevy people vs Ford people. We're talking falling down vs staying upright. Luckily, I wasn't as short as Kate. It would have been a real problem.
Purple Mountains  Notch Miyake  p214
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 09, 2022, 12:15:04 PM
A study by Kawishima at the University of Tokyo, titled “The relationship between motorcycle riding and the human mind”, tested male motorcyclists between 40 and 50. They evaluated two groups, regular use cyclists and a non-rider control group. Each individual was examined for brain function and cognitive skills.
After two months on two wheels, research results were able to conclude riders who drove their motorcycles to the office daily had increased cognitive functioning when compared to those who did not. When they analysed the data produced by the men, who were also asked to repeat a set of numbers in reverse order, consistent motorcycle riders’ scores had increased more than 50 percent, In contrast, the control group’s scores slightly decreased.
It was also found that these improvements would be lost if regular use of a motorcycle ceases.
In addition to keeping your mind on its best game, riding has been proven to have a positive impact on mental health, helping mood and reducing stress. The study’s rider participants noted that after 60 days of consistent motorcycle use, they had reduced stress levels and were generally happier. You know that adrenaline rush you get each time you accelerate on your bike? That’s the release of endorphins. Not only do endorphins feel great, they help improve your mood as well. Indirectly, riders gain more exposure to direct sunlight, which increases Vitamin D and helps overall mood. Money saved from spending on fuel for a motorcycle as opposed to a car, truck or SUV can also help bring down personal stress levels.
As substantial as they are, the benefits of motorcycle riding are not solely mental. They’re significantly physical as well.
https://theridingcenter.com/  10 April 2020
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Langers on November 09, 2022, 06:22:50 PM
Not a hijack, just a comment.
I volunteered for a fatigue study while the medicos were checking me for sleep apnea. The study involved sleep deprivation and reaction time testing. Apparently I did rather well with the tests (computer based driving exercises). The next morning, the researcher quizzed me on my activities to try to determine why I did so well wrt my age. He put it down to my motorcycle riding and the fact I trust no one on the road and ride like every bugger is out to kill me. The scientists out there will say, not replicated etc, etc but it works for me.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 10, 2022, 03:29:13 PM
Did you know that you could get your entire daily exercise through riding? A calorie burner similar to fast walking, motorcycling generally burns around 200-300 calories per hour. Want to burn even more calories? Ride against the wind! (Fast fact: competitive race riders- please only do this in a safe environment with proper training- can burn up to 600 calories an hour as a result of the exercise required to control a bike at extremely high speeds).
While burning these calories, you’re also gaining a full body workout. The muscle use and energy required to manoeuvre a motorcycle help make your abdominal muscles stronger. Who doesn’t want to be able to say they maintain their six-pack motorcycling?
Since motorcycles usually weigh at least a few hundred pounds, riders must use their bodies to help safely balance and steer. This demands use of nearly every muscle, which, over time, improves muscle tone!
https://theridingcenter.com/  10 April 2020
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 11, 2022, 10:19:11 AM
Riding has also been proven to make a positive difference for individuals suffering from Type 2 diabetes or weak knees.
The exercise one gets from riding impacts body chemistry, decreasing insulin use. This increase in insulin sensitivity also tells your body to store less fat, which can help you make significant strides with weight loss goals. As true of any other form of exercise, no one is claiming riding is a cure for diabetes. Nonetheless, it can help! As a result of the intense use of thigh muscles in motorcycling, riders end up with stronger knees and become less susceptible to knee injuries.
So next time you get sick of the daily treadmill grind or solving tedious puzzles to keep your mind running strong or if just don’t have time for any extra personal maintenance in your day, change things up! Try getting that mental and physical fitness in by doing something you already love- like motorcycling.
https://theridingcenter.com/  10 April 2020
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 12, 2022, 12:28:31 PM
I happened upon the next two books in a Maleny bookshop. The author is a local resident.
In Sri Lanka (Ceylon, as it was called in the '60s)...
Rounding the next bend I nearly froze as I was confronted with the rear ends of huge mounds of flesh, lumbering along side by side, carrying logs gripped between their tusks and trunk. I was doing about thirty miles per hour on the still wet road and a sudden braking would mean another skid and a possible collision with the animals.   The only alternative was to drive between them. Crouched low over the handlebars to keep under the logs I slipped through between the rolling monsters. I gave a sigh of relief as I burst into the open and continued cautiously on.
I cruised past villages, coconut groves and paddy fields and it was almost dark when I stopped to inquire the whereabouts of the hospital. Luckily I had picked a doctor's residence and he gave me directions to the hospital, which I reached after dark. I parked at the entrance and with my helmet in my hand entered, and was met by a police sergeant.
You will find your friend at the casualty ward on the first floor," he said. "Have you reported the accident to the police at Kahawatta?"
"No, but I will do it first thing in the morning," I promised him, "but now I want to find my friend."
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  p16
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 13, 2022, 12:21:01 PM
It was a cloudy afternoon as we cruised along the smooth bitumen road, dodging ox-carts with their huge loads, and side stepping people walking right in the middle of the road. We were doing about 30 mph when we cruised up behind one of those characters.  I started to blow the horn about fifty yards away but he appeared not to hear so I slowed down, keeping the horn blasting all the time.
I was about thirty feet off this middle-aged peasant, clad in loincloth and turban, when he started to meander all over the road. As I drew abreast of him he swayed in our direction and almost under the wheel. I swerved violently, almost biting the bitumen as I threw the scooter over in an endeavour to miss him.
I thought I had succeeded, but I had not allowed for the overhanging rucksack, which clouted his legs and the long, hooked stick he was carrying.  The impact threw the stick and sent the jaywalker spinning across the road in a heap. As soon as I could I pulled up and we both ran back to see if any damage had been done. He was in the process of getting onto his feet when he saw us, and a complete change came over him. We could read it in his eyes.
"White men!"
In a flash he fell back on the ground again and put on an act that a film star would have envied.   He rolled round holding various parts of his body as though he had been mortally wounded.
Keith and I looked at each other, spellbound for a second or two, for we knew we had not done any serious damage to him.
Just then a Land Rover pulled up and two Indians got out and came over to see what had happened. On being told our story they had a look at the writhing man, spoke to him, then turned and told us to give him a rupee and he would be cured. We felt a little annoyed at having been caught, for we should have known better, but I dug into my pocket and tossed him a few annas.
Immediately the pain ceased.
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  pp59-60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 14, 2022, 09:53:42 PM
After breakfast, we bought our permit, and joined the truck convoy. I was not looking forward to the drive over the spillways as each one was over a mile long and coated with oily slime over the top of which several inches of water ran. If we skidded there was a more than even chance of going over the top and into the river below, but I decided to give it a go and ride in the wake of the truck's duals.
At the sound of a bell the barrier was dropped. The race was on. There were two trucks ahead of me and I kept hard on their tail as they started grinding in low gear onto the first of the weirs. There, I eased the scooter down behind them and onto the greasy spillway. What we had been told had been no exaggeration, for the surface was inches thick with green oily slime which squelched out from under the truck wheels, leaving me only a narrow strip to ride in. On our left, about three feet away, was a six feet high spillway with water pouring across the road and over the bottom spillway. If we should get out of the wheel tracks there was five feet between us and the river. I kept close behind in the wake of the trucks, not taking my eyes off the narrow strip. We were wet with spray when we climbed the opposite bank with only three weirs to go.
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  pp63-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 15, 2022, 11:21:34 AM
During Holi festival
Quick getaways were necessary in order to survive and at times I found myself driving dangerously, almost running over inebriated, glazed-eyed locals. On several occasions my vision was completely blurred as coloured water ran over my goggles and mixed with purple and green powder on my face.  We intended stopping but there seemed to be no place of refuge, for even on the open road a crowd would be lying in wait for the unwary traveller. By this time I was sporting a red face and green beard, and to stop our clothes becoming even more stained, we donned our raincoats.
Further north we were pelted with paper water bombs, often managing to dodge them as they were hurled through the air from a distance.
The worst was still to come. Along what seemed to be a quiet stretch of road we were attacked by a crowd armed with paint brushes on long sticks and carrying great pots of paint (with silver frost the favourite colour). There was little we could do to escape.
We rode on until midday, when we found a shady spot by a buffalo wallow and had a cleanup in the muddy water.
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  p90
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 16, 2022, 10:18:49 AM
At 6,000 feet a battered Land Rover came coasting down the range towards us with two Indian boys running alongside, kicking the front wheels every time the vehicle approached a curve. It pulled up in front of us, and a tall, Anglo-Indian chap with an enormous handlebar moustache jumped out.
"Captain Bijanbasi, ex Indian Army. Where the hell do you think you are going on that machine?"
"Darjeeling."
He stroked his moustache. "Got a place to stay there?"
"No. Any suggestions?"
"If I was there you could stay with me, but I won't be. I'll give you the address of a friend. He'll fix you up. While Keith was writing the address on his plaster cast, I asked the Captain where he was off to.
"Oh, yes, I have a broken tie-rod and I am going down to Siliguri to have it fixed. The tricky part about it is that I have absolutely no steering and have to rely on the boys to kick the front wheels around the curves."
The boys had bare feet and, although they all looked pretty happy at the time, I wondered how many pairs of broken feet there would be at the bottom.
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  p106
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 18, 2022, 02:45:22 PM
We were cruising along nicely when suddenly the throttle cable snapped. I pulled up in the shade of a big tree to inspect the damage, and discovered that the cable had broken inside the carburettor. As one might expect in a case like this, we were miles from anywhere, on a waterless stage, with no spare cable.
I sat beside the scooter staring at it, trying to get inspiration.
Then an idea hit me - welding wire! Before leaving Brisbane, Neil Gunn of Sear and Gunn, had given me a reel saying, "It's wonderful stuff. You can do anything with it!"
I dug it out and tried it for size. Too thick! Not to be outdone, I got down on the road with two spanners and hammered the wire out into a long, thin strip. After some tricky work with the pliers, and a lot of patience, the cable was mended and even though I did not think so at the time, this repair job was strong enough to take us 3,500 miles before it was replaced.
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  pp134-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 19, 2022, 05:17:07 PM
After dinner that evening, we stumbled our way up the dark stairway of our hotel and fumbled our way along a pitch-black hall to our door. When I finally located the keyhole and entered the room, I discovered that our light bulb had been taken out. With the aid of the dim street light, I located a torch and stumbled my way back down the stairs to the manager.
"The light bulb in our room is missing. Could I have another one please?"
"But you had one last night, don't you know we have to share them?" he protested, most upset. However, after a little persuading I managed to get one from him and returned to our room feeling as though I had robbed the place.
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  p153
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 22, 2022, 11:06:49 AM
We were on our way out of the city when heavy rain started to fall and we were forced to take shelter. It was not long before the smooth, oil-caked bitumen was greasy, reminding me of a certain stretch of road in Ceylon. When the rain ceased, we got under way again but had not gone very far when I felt the wheels starting to skid.
"Hang on," I yelled to Keith. "It's on again."
I had hardly got the words out when the wheels slipped from underneath us and we were deposited bottoms first on the bitumen. We retained our sitting attitudes and slid gracefully along on our seats, travelling parallel with the scooter until we came to rest twenty yards further along the road. Unscathed we got to our feet. I switched the motor off, then wheeled Mirrabooka to the side of the road under a hail of applause from a group of onlookers who were nearly splitting their sides laughing.
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  p202
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 23, 2022, 11:52:56 AM
The boys' uncle owned a carpet factory and with the boys acting as interpreters we were shown over the factory, a high, narrow, mud building. Two rows of workers were busy working on their own designs, chanting as they worked. The average time for one person to make a rug, we were told, was about four months, and that is working from daylight till dark, sometimes seven days a week. I remarked on the youth of the workers and was told that rug makers start when they are very young and are usually finished at twenty-five because they go blind. This was easy to understand, for this place relied only on the sun to provide the light through the high, narrow windows. The swift hands astounded me as they slipped along the rug, weaving another row and then beating it down tight with shaped wooden mallets. Most of the workers had deformed fingers through constant use in this manner.
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  pp239-240
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: CallMeSteve on November 23, 2022, 12:37:38 PM
Im loving these little snippets!   Two guys riding around India on (presumably) one scooter - how insane. But what a blast.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 24, 2022, 12:48:38 PM
Im loving these little snippets!   Two guys riding around India on (presumably) one scooter - how insane. But what a blast.
They started out on two, but one crashed.  They live out at Maleny and I found the signed books at one of the town bookshops.

About a hundred yards away from the camp on the banks of the stream, I found a big pile of driftwood, just what I wanted. I stuck the machete in the ground and started to drag some of the heavier timber free. I had just reefed a big branch away when I almost froze to the spot, for no more than five feet away from me lying coiled up amongst the timber was a great two-toned grey snake. It instantly unravelled itself and struck a menacing pose with an arched neck and head waving to and fro, waiting its chance to make a strike. At the same instant as this happened, I whipped off my crash helmet and, holding it by the inside webbing, held it in front of me so that if it struck it would have bite on the fibreglass first.
I was not sure what type of snake it was but I was not going to take any chances as it looked very big and healthy. It made several feints at me as I edged back towards the machete which was about six feet away - all the time keeping my eyes on the swaying reptile. Reaching for the knife, I flicked my eyes towards it and the snake struck. It fell just short of my crash helmet as I had moved a little out of range. Sensing that I was armed, it turned and made for the water. For the first time I could see all of it - a good seven feet and very thick. When I had recovered, I cautiously finished gathering the wood.
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  p268
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 25, 2022, 02:53:51 PM
Next morning we got away to an early start and set out for Gumusane and the long climb up over the 8,000 feet pass by Mount Kopdagi. It was hard to keep my eyes on the road and not the alpine scenery. This road is closed for eight months of the year and even though now it was mid spring, the snow was still piled up to twelve feet thick by the side of the road, making a white gorge for us to drive through. A snowplough had just cleared the track and the road was a quagmire.
The descent to Gumusane was breathtaking, particularly when our brake drums ran hot and I found the scooter coasting down the steep winding gravel road at forty miles per hour with no hope of stopping. How we reached the bottom intact, I will never know. When I eventually stopped, it would have been possible to grill a steak on the brake drums. We had been over a lot of grades, but this was by far the steepest. At the time I do not think Keith knew what was happening for he told me afterwards that he thought I had gone crazy, trying to take Mirrabooka down such a grade at that speed. We still had a lot of mountain ranges to cross and I was now feeling very wary about long, downhill grades.
Scooter Nomads  Edsel Ward  p282
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 26, 2022, 03:50:22 PM
In Yugoslavia
We were in mountainous southern Yugoslavia on a rough, gravel-corrugated, pot-holed road, when I heard a noise which sounded like a semi-trailer coming up fast behind us. I looked to my right and was startled to see a thumping great tank with a red star on the turret, crashing through the timber, about twenty yards away and parallel to the road.
Keith screamed out over the noise, "Crikey, they are on to us - and I haven't got my anti-tank gun."
Keith had been in an anti-tank platoon in Korea. He had shot at these tanks before, and now wanted his gun.
I screamed back at him, "Remember, we are on a scooter and we don't have room for an anti-tank gun. You will just have to wait until we get home."
The tank got ahead of us, then slewed across the road in front, blocking our path. I braked heavily and stopped just short of the monster.
The turret lid opened and an officer climbed out, followed by a crew member with a sub-machine gun. The officer greeted us with a grave, unblinking stare, then went through the language list and decided we spoke English.
Holding his hand out, he said, "Passport? Visa?"
We got our papers and handed them to him. He thumbed through them, snorted, handed them back and then in broken English said, "You have ridden into a Russian tank firing-range. We are about to start night exercises. You can go no further. You will camp the night right here. You will not move until daylight."
Scooter Nomads Book 2  Edsel Ward  pp16-17
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Williamson on November 26, 2022, 06:31:09 PM
..... "You have ridden into a Russian tank firing-range. We are about to start night exercises. You can go no further. You will camp the night right here. You will not move until daylight."

Hey Bill, did our colleagues heed this advice?
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: CallMeSteve on November 26, 2022, 08:59:20 PM
..... "You have ridden into a Russian tank firing-range. We are about to start night exercises. You can go no further. You will camp the night right here. You will not move until daylight."

Hey Bill, did our colleagues heed this advice?

To be continued.  :popcorn

I so hate it when they do that.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 27, 2022, 03:29:55 PM
It was only then, that I saw what was on the road ahead: it was lined with small tanks, troops, people in national dress, and lots of bunting.  I started the
motor and moved out. Immediately, people started cheering and waving flags at us. As we rode, the troops stood to attention; some saluted, with Keith returning the salute.
Then the penny dropped - all of the looking at the watches bit, meant someone was running late and we were being sent through as a distraction, until the main cavalcade arrived. Someone in that tent had a sense of humour! I thought, "Right, this is something we had never done," so I decided to give them a good show and rode slowly, giving people plenty of time to wave their flags and cheer... and we even received some flowers in return.
Then I wondered about the real cavalcade: if there would be any cheering and bunting left for them? I hoped there was some left for them, as we now seemed to be using it all up. We had been told to expect the unexpected, and it had happened.
Scooter Nomads Book 2  Edsel Ward  p19
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 28, 2022, 10:44:43 PM
Next morning, I left Keith with 'Mirra' and walked to the town, which I found wasn't far if I took a ferry ride across the inlet which divided the town. I found the workshop and arranged for their truck to pick up the scooter and bring it back the workshop. I went with the truck, which had given us five men to lift the scooter onto the truck. Before leaving, the owner gave us a bottle of local wine, telling us how good it was - "It will make you strong." It looked like kerosene to me.
With neither Keith nor I being drinkers, Keith said to me, "What are you going to do with it? We don't have much room."
I said to him, "I think it could work well in our metho burner," and it did. In fact we cooked our porridge on it every morning, to Norway and back.
With 'Mirra' loaded, we set off to the workshop. On inspection, we found that the spline had been stripped, which meant a new axle. The mechanic said, "We can make one but it will take two or three days."
Scooter Nomads Book 2  Edsel Ward  p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 29, 2022, 01:04:24 PM
In Austria
We were cruising along nicely when two motorcycle policemen came upon us, one on each side as they escorted us for about three hundred yards. They then moved off, to be replaced by two police cars who pulled us over.
"Where are you going?" they asked.
"The camping place," we replied.
They said "Follow us." So now there was one in front and one behind us. The blue blinking lights went on, then the sirens and the pace picked up. I was hoping they wouldn't stop in a hurry, because I didn't want to finish up on their bonnet- they were pushing us.
We eventually came to what looked like a park - it was the camping place.   It was huge - well laid-out, with masses of gardens. The police guided us to reception and booked us in. They apologised for hurrying us along but it was necessary, as we had been holding up traffic and had created a big traffic jam on the autobahn.
People had been slowing down to get a good look at us and the end of the line was at a crawl, even though there were two and three lanes.
Scooter Nomads Book 2  Edsel Ward  p54
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on November 30, 2022, 10:16:24 AM
In West Berlin
The next three days, we spent with reporters and newsmen who bought new tyres and film for us in return for our story and photos. They also passed us a handful of cash - I can't remember how much it was - but we were also given another handful after our TV interview two days later.
Keith bought flowers for our hosts, while I worked on the scooter. We had TV staff descend on our unit in order to set up for the following morning. The place was strewn with cables, flood lights and tripods. We had to be care moving around as the unit wasn't large.
Next morning, it was action time. We were filmed eating breakfast, packing our rucksacks, going down to the scooter, loading up, saying goodbye and then, riding off into the distance. It was Take 1, Take 2... and so on. Going up and down the steps with our gear, loading and unloading the scooter - all this took up the whole morning. They finally packed up and left, passing us another lot of cash, telling us they had enjoyed themselves. We had a lot of fun but were pleased to see them go... it had all been full-on. What we weren't aware of at the time was that the whole thing had been screened all over Europe. We only found that out later when people began waving at us and bringing us food.
Scooter Nomads Book 2  Edsel Ward  pp70-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 01, 2022, 11:19:38 AM
In Sweden
At Storuman, we were back into logging country with sawmills and timber jinkers, which for us were a menace, as they would take up the whole road; and to them, two blokes on a motor scooter looked like a speck on the landscape.  On one occasion, I saw one coming and got over as far as I could to let him pass but he only got half his length past us when he moved over, almost putting us under the jinker. That didn't worry me as much as the rear wheels of the jinker, which seemed to be lining up with the scooter.
I yelled out to Keith, "Hang on, were going over into the bog!"
The road was flat and at the same level as the bog. Over we went and were pleasantly surprised to find we were on a giant mattress of moss. As we hit the moss, the rear wheels screamed past us. They would have only needed to clip us and we would have gone over anyway. Doing it this way, we had some control over our fall. We were both in one piece and still sitting on the scooter but slowly sinking into the moss, which brought us back to reality. We had to take everything off the scooter, including us, then drag the machine back to the road, which wasn't far away.
When the scooter was back on the road, we spoke for the first time - and it was brief, "That was close."
Scooter Nomads Book 2  Edsel Ward  pp86-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 02, 2022, 01:22:18 PM
It was then that the scooter started playing up. We were 280 kilometres from Paris. The country was beautiful: undulating green pastures with farm buildings scattered around... it was a picture-postcard, rural scene with a blue sky. Then a loud rattle and a bang... and the scooter stopped.
I examined the motor and found the piston had cracked. After 38,625 kilometres, it had finally happened. Poor Mirrabooka, with all her problems, had hung in there with us and not once left us stranded in a place where repairs could not be made, and there had been a number of them. With the help of other people, 'Mirra' had always been fixed and we were on the road again.
The 200cc fluid drive motor was a big motor at that time and was regarded as a touring machine. It had 240 kilogram carrying capacity - Keith and I, plus gear, were well under that.
The 'Rabbit' had done well. The other feature it had, was an air-spring on the back wheel, which we could pump up according to the load.
Back in reality, we were 280 kilometres from Paris - and so it was out with the map. We had kept away from the main road for ease of travel and had not seen any traffic on this good road since we started. Keith suggested the railway. Right... there was a rail line 14 kilometres away, running through a village, with the railway continuing through to Paris. So a plan was formed. We would push and ride 14 kilometres to the station, put ourselves and the scooter, on a train for Paris. We decided to give it a go.
Scooter Nomads Book 2  Edsel Ward  pp109-10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 03, 2022, 10:30:42 PM
With that done, we went via bus and Metro to explore Paris for six days, using our guide books. I felt somewhat glad then, that Mirrabooka had broken down; since, looking at that mad traffic, I think we would have been run over... and if that had happened, I would not now be writing this. With our own transport gone, we felt strangely alone. 'Mirra' had been one third of the team and now she was turning into just a memory - with memories of other breakdowns - only then, they had been happening in front of some garage or an engineering workshop, along with tools to effect repairs. The bulk of our travel had taken place well-away from main roads and the tourist beat, with little or no help available. Many were the times we had come out of rough country into a town, before 'Mirra' decided it was time for repairs.
Fuji had been on and off with us and I couldn't blame them; they probably regarded us as two wayward scooter nomads but they could not have possibly known of the adventures we had.
Scooter Nomads Book 2  Edsel Ward  p120
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 04, 2022, 12:10:41 PM
On our arrival in Melbourne, we were approached by a man wanting to buy our scooter. He was a collector and had been trying to get hold of our model for his collection. We told him we would think about it, because it was booked through to Brisbane and could not be off-loaded in Melbourne.
Keith and I discussed the offer. We had intended to take it home and recondition it ourselves, but back home the picture had changed - we both had to start work. We asked ourselves, when would we get time to work on the scooter? The answer became clear: we should take the offer.
Keith immediately went back to work, while I decided to do something different and finished up working for a timber company. I then got married and the scooter became only a memory. It had served us well but reality can be very blunt... and it was time to let it go. Going to a new owner who was a collector, it would have a dignified retirement.
Scooter Nomads Book 2  Edsel Ward  pp143-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on December 04, 2022, 04:17:06 PM
Thank you for taking the time and putting up these stories Biggles, I look forward to them each day.   :thumb
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: CallMeSteve on December 04, 2022, 06:57:30 PM
Me too. 
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 05, 2022, 02:47:04 PM
Riding in heavy traffic, as I dimly recall, was nightmare, not only in view of the dangerous brakes, the non-working forks and the flat-feeling rear tyre, but because the clutch - and subsequent gear-change - had a mind of its own. The engine idled like a bagful of live chickens, and the clutch refused to disengage fully when changing gears. Selecting first gear from a standing start was an acquired art, for you would either stall the engine or, if you opened the throttle wide enough, the bike would leap away snapping your neck like a frozen carrot. If the traffic hadn't moved very far, and you had to stop again, you would then have to reef on the front brake lever with every ounce of strength you possessed, at the same time as you gently caressed the rear brake pedal. [Describing the 1972 Ural outfit.]
Vintage Morris Vol 2  Lester Morris  p13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 06, 2022, 03:50:49 PM
A piston in a high-performance modern-day motorcycle engine produces its peak power at around 12,000 RPM, a speed unheard of with Jack's 500cc single-cylinder Norton, which produced its peak power of 50-odd BHP at around 7,500rpm. If the bore x stroke measurements of our modern multi-cylinder sports machine are, say, 70mm x 65mm, that piston flies frantically down and back up again on that 65mm journey at peak engine revs no fewer than 200 times every second!
With a connecting rod length of, say, 120mm, the maximum speed that piston will accelerate to at peak engine revs occurs at around 40mm, just after halfway down the stroke, with the angle of the con-rod, relative to the gudgeon pin, effectively 'shortened'. At that time, and at a fraction of a second after igniting the new charge, the piston will be travelling at the incredible speed of around 30 meters per second; or 1800 meters a minute, which is more than 100km per hour. That's a piston flashing from zero to lOOkm/hour plus in around 40mm, and in the tiniest fraction of a second!
Vintage Morris Vol 2  Lester Morris  p21
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 07, 2022, 11:05:09 AM
Naturally, the footboards fitted to these differing motorcycles were usually hinged where mounted to the frames, so that they would neatly fold up when cornering exuberantly; that is, if the rider of such a machine was that way inclined, which is unlikely.
These types of 'footrests' always seemed to provide a much more secure platform on which to rest our long-suffering feet, and they also allowed much more freedom in moving our feet about on a long ride, thus adding even more to our comfort. They were also much more secure when we stood upon them to ease the pressure on our often badly numbed backsides. This was even more pronounced in wet conditions, a boon not always available the riders of machines fitted with rubber-covered footrests, the rubbers usually too slippery in the wet to allow us to safely indulge in this entirely pleasurable pursuit of easing the pain of a long, hard ride. Scooter riders have long enjoyed the feeling of moving their feet about almost at random, and easing the weight off their backsides - or front sides for that matter - but probably without knowing it unless they had ridden a motorcycle equipped with a set of ordinary footrests.
Vintage Morris Vol 2  Lester Morris  pp35-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 08, 2022, 11:00:01 AM
"You're mad!!" he suddenly shouted, "Maaddddd!!"
"Wyzatt?"
"I wanted to get off! Off! Didn't go hear me shouting Whoa! Whoa!"
"No, I thought you were shouting Wow! Wow!"
"Wow! Wow!" he barked again. "What are you, deaf or something? Gees, I thought we were gone. You fell off the bloody thing before we'd gone a hundred yards!"
"No, I didn't fall off it," I corrected him, "I couldn't hold it up when we stopped, that's all."
"That's all? You couldn't hold it up and then you ride the ring off it like you'd gone crazy or something. Geez, I cant believe you mate." He shook his head and glared at me as he ran his fingers through his hair.
"I didn't fall off it," I corrected him again, "It's too hard for me to hold it up. But when it moves away you can do anything with it. Its a fantastic handler and it stops on nothing. Do you still reckon I can't ride it?" I asked him innocently.
"I don't care if you ride it. I don't care if you set fire to the bloody thing, I don't care if you shove it up your arse!" he shouted, as he flung his helmet onto a small lounge chair and stormed, stiff-legged, into the store's toilet. I noticed a hand tugging the crotch of his trousers while he flicked first one leg, then the other behind him as he made his exit on the tips of his toes. He seemed to be in there for some time, but when he shyly returned, I thought I ought to quietly disappear and not to ask him if he was alright.
Vintage Morris Vol 2  Lester Morris  p41
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: CallMeSteve on December 08, 2022, 02:24:44 PM
That is priceless!
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on December 08, 2022, 03:42:30 PM
Thanks Biggles, I love a good Lester yarn. I used to enjoy his column in Two Wheels years ago.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 09, 2022, 09:26:46 PM
We were introduced to the audience and the announcer then asked the police officer, who was apparently a member of the road safety bureau in the traffic branch, if he had ever ridden a motorcycle himself.
"If I had my way, those things would be banned from the roads," he curtly replied, to our great dismay, the while glaring at me as though daring me to answer his unwarranted reply. The announcer was clearly taken aback, but bugger him, I thought.
"And why would you make such as suggestion, Sergeant?" I asked him politely. "Have you never ridden a motorcycle yourself?"
He stuffed his credibility immediately by his haughty reply. "No, I have not," he trumpeted, "and I have no desire to ever do so."
"Then you don't know what you're missing," I assured him. "I have ridden hundreds of motorcycles during my career in the trade, as well as professionally road testing many machines for a variety of specialist publications. It could thus be argued that I might know a whole lot more of what I am talking about than you do. I say that with the greatest respect, of course, sir."
"Those things are dangerous," he countered. "Everyone knows that."
"Well, I never knew that, so I thank you for the information," I replied, with what I trust was well concealed sarcasm. "But there are many salient features about a motorcycle which makes the vehicle clearly less dangerous than a motorcar. I will list them if you like."
Vintage Morris Vol 2  Lester Morris  p59
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 10, 2022, 04:54:10 PM
From nowhere, that incident reminded me of the ex-Brit Brian Stansfield, who was riding a 500cc single-cylinder G80S Matchless in the first 'Redex Trial' for motorcycles in 1954. He was managing the showroom at A.P. North, the motorcycle agency which was the marque's importers at the time, and where I was working some months after the event. I was chatting to him one morning over a quiet coffee as we were discussing the odd flora and fauna for which our nation was so famous internationally. He told me the only time he had ever seen a kangaroo was when one of them bounded out of the nearby bushes during one of the Redex Trial's more difficult off-road sections and plucked him straight out the saddle of the bike! It didn't touch the bike at all, he said, it simply lifted him off the machine, dumped him on the ground, wrestled around with him for a few seconds and then bounded away to leave him to his own devices. He said he was able to catch his breath after a while, before he climbed painfully onto his machine and rode away, out of contention in the event, but at least more or less still in one piece.
Vintage Morris Vol 2  Lester Morris  p76
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 11, 2022, 12:19:09 PM
It has always seemed to me to be an extremely odd exercise to display the advertisement in a car's rear window announcing the fact that there is a 'Baby on Board', a sign which fairly jumps out at one as you zoom up to the imposing SUV ahead. Are we to suppose that the message tells us the driver of that over-sized vehicle might be taking extra care now, simply because of the recent arrival of the new babe? One might suppose, in fact hope, that driver of the vehicle in question would exercise the same care when travelling about this nation's roads whether there was a new-born in the vehicle or not.
Or perhaps the sign has been placed in position to please ask other road users to give that vehicle a wider berth than normal for some reason, or perhaps to refrain from running into the car, simply because of the 'Baby on Board'.
Perhaps the driver of which we speak might be keeping more than a weather eye on the little one, and not enough attention to the road, relying the assistance of that little notice, allied to the skill of other road users, to keep well clear of the large baby carriage?
Is the 'Baby' sign prominently placed in the fond hope that there naturally follows a form of Divine Protection once the Deity has been advised that someone has been clever enough, or dumb enough, to have brought a young life into this world? Even the dumbest of the dumb can become parents with just a little effort and some reckless abandon.
Vintage Morris Vol 2  Lester Morris  p106
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 12, 2022, 02:17:29 PM
For example, I am quite sure that a sign with the legend 'Sudden U-Turner' displayed in a car's rear window would be handy for everyone who is mounted upon a two-wheeler, but by the time one is close enough to read the sign, the party concerned might already be halfway through the manoeuvre anyway.
What about the sign, 'I Am a Non-Blinking Lane Changer' used as an early warning, particularly for riders of a range of fairly high-powered scooters who might be approaching the miscreant up ahead? But it, like the previous sign, would need to have letters printed upon it which would be large enough to read from about 50 metres behind if it were to be in any way effective.
'I Never Look In My Mirrors' or, as an alternative, 'Maladjusted Mirrors' should be of great concern to any approaching motorcycle rider, while a window sticker bearing the legend 'Don't See Motorcyclists', or, alternatively 'I Never Look For Motorcyclists', or 'Boofhead behind the Wheel' - which should sell, or be issued, by the truckload - should be of great interest, and not only to those who prefer two-wheeled transport.
Vintage Morris Vol 2  Lester Morris  p106
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 13, 2022, 11:24:18 AM
Unseen by me the large BMW Cruiser, with menacing and odd-looking, 'cantilever' front-end rolled up while we were filming interior shots, and the First Assistant Director (breathlessly) asked me if I was sure I could ride a motorcycle, and to come and have a look at the monster which had just arrived.
"Piece of cake," I assured him, as I donned the helmet proffered by the BMW rep who had ridden the machine to the set. "Hop on the back," I demanded, as someone handed him a spare lid.
Of course, I was forced to move away from the spot with some alacrity while he clung fearfully to me, the while wringing out every last ounce of the air I had recently acquired by squeezing his large arms around my ribcage with the strength of a mature boa constrictor. I took him for a quiet squirt up the road, round a tight roundabout and back again, then returned to execute a couple of tight figure-eight feet-up turns in front of the frankly admiring assemblage.
I was rewarded for this display by a spontaneous round of applause and noted that the pillion passenger, whom I could see in the rear vision mirror, gave the thumbs up sign to the director who, until then frankly couldn't believe a little bloke like me could fling a monster like a BMW Cruiser around with such seemingly reckless abandon.
Vintage Morris Vol 2  Lester Morris  pp114-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 14, 2022, 01:40:15 PM
My dream was to travel around the world. I cannot tell you where the dream came from or when it began, but it seems it has been with me forever. In 1989, at the age of forty-one I learned how to ride a motorcycle and that was the beginning of my travels in North America. Each summer from 1990 onward I did a two to four week trip on my bike. By the end of year 2000 I had traveled in forty-one states of America and all ten provinces in Canada. North America is a wonderful place to travel with landscapes so diverse and spectacular one can never tire of its beauty. I just could not seem to get enough. Everywhere I went people were wonderful and I felt perfectly safe. Up to this point most of my travels were with other people- sometimes one friend, other times a group of friends, and many times family members who ride motorcycles.
The more places I discovered the more my thoughts about traveling around the world grew.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron p1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 15, 2022, 04:52:21 PM
What is my first impression of Australia? It feels great to be out without a winter coat and boots. Everything is green with flowers in full bloom. I especially notice all the roses. The buildings are of Victorian style architecture, many built in the 1800's and early 1900's. It's wonderful to see the preservation of these beautiful structures. The passenger side of the car is on the left and people drive like maniacs. Pedestrians look out for their own safety and do not assume the right of way. Maybe that is how it should be. I have to listen very intently to conversations in order to understand people. Australians have a British style accent that my ear is not accustomed to. I am soon to discover that Melbourne is a very expensive city to live in with a lot of wealth passed down through the generations.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron p31
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 16, 2022, 11:47:35 AM
Back at the campground the Galahs are still squawking— the noise is deafening! I retrieve my earplugs from the bike. A short time later, at 8:00 pm, the campground is quiet. I look up in the trees, and yes, the Galahs are still there; they have become completely quiet. I ask some local people about this and am told "don't worry, they'll start again in the morning." Sure enough, before 6:00 am they start singing again.
I am up with the birds, pack up my tent and begin my journey to Uluru in Kata Tjuta National Park. The park is located 450 kilometers southwest of Alice Springs. I stop in Curtain Springs for fuel and breakfast then hit the road again. Today is a short day and I arrive in Yulara (Ayres Rock Resort) before noon. I set up camp before walking to the visitor center for a map of the area and whatever information they can give me.
I ride out to Uluru, more commonly known as Ayres Rock, the world's largest monolith and a sacred site to the Aboriginal people. I stop at the site where visitors are allowed to hike the tough, 1.6 kilometer trail to the top of the rock. I get my hiking boots on, toss my riding jacket across the bike, and head to the base of the Rock. I climb up the first bulge, about 100 meters, then start up the next steeper section. Suddenly I lose my nerve. I stop for a moment then try again. This is ridiculous, I'm not afraid of heights! I make a couple more attempts but simply cannot force myself to continue. There are other people climbing head of me, I should have no problem, but I cannot make myself go farther. I retrace my steps to the bottom and go back to my bike, not too sure what just happened.
I decide to ride around Uluru and make several stops to hike some trails that lead into the rock. I am about halfway around when the clouds start rolling in. Soon rain is pouring down and lightning is flashing across the sky. I think about the people who were climbing Ayres Rock ahead of me and by now would be at the top. Now I know why I could not continue my climb.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron pp43-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 17, 2022, 12:02:26 PM
December 28 I reach the Great Ocean road and have a pleasant ride, stopping for pictures at the many great sights along the ocean. The rock formations in the ocean, known as the Twelve Apostles, are just one such stop. Accommodations are almost impossible to get along the coast this time of year and I have trouble finding a room or camp the night of December 30. I practically beg for a camping spot, and finally find a caravan park at Anglesea where I put up my tent amongst dozens of others and settle in for the night. Next day I reach Queenscliff where I spend New Years Eve and Day with Curtis, Vanessa and her family. The weather is not great but nor is it bad— with clouds, sun, periodic showers and gentle ocean breezes. We enjoy a wonderful New Years Eve dinner of crayfish, prawns and all the fixings, complemented with champagne and wine. What a wonderful way to end an exciting year- with family and newfound friends.
New Years day I make several phone calls back home to my family. I am excited to talk to them all and hear about their Christmas and New Year. They all wish me well on my travels and wonder how much longer I will be gone.
What a great year I have had, and my journey has just begun! Year 2002... where will it lead?
January 1, 2002, I have been away from home for five months. Am I getting tired of traveling? Am I getting lonely or homesick? Well, with the risk of sounding selfish or cold, the answer is NO! My thirst for adventure and to see the world has just amplified over the past five months. I am ready to see more, experience more, and meet more people- the journey has just begun.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron pp57-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Williamson on December 17, 2022, 03:13:13 PM
... Accommodations are almost impossible to get along the coast this time of year and I have trouble finding a room or camp the night of December 30. I practically beg for a camping spot ...

Even Mary and Joseph had trouble finding a room at an Inn, had to settle for a stable.  Wasn't really surprising, ever tried to get room on Christmas Eve without a booking?
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 18, 2022, 01:53:24 PM
I pick up my bike the next day, ride into the city and park on the sidewalk in line with the dozens of other bikes. I smile as I think of my biking friends back home. I must send them a picture, because parking on the sidewalk there would warrant a ticket. I do some shopping at Peter Stevens Motorcycle shop and when I return I find two fellows seriously looking over my bike. I hurry to the bike and say, "Hi, can I help you?" Turns out these two fellows, Eric and Jason, are Magna riders and invite me on a ride around Tasmania with their Magna Club. I also discover they are both computer techs and they offer to help solve the problem I've been having connecting my laptop to the Internet. Eric and Jason are about 30, Eric has a head of black hair and Jason is bald. Eric is only about 57", while Jason is two or three inches taller. They both ride Honda Magnas and sound like they have a lot of fun with their friends and bikes.
Wow, this is great! I wasn't planning on going to Tasmania but now I cannot pass up this opportunity. Later I meet Nene, Eric's girlfriend, who rides her own Magna. Nene gives me the details of the Tasmania ride. The group will be leaving on Saturday, March 23, and Nene is quite sure that they secured the last spots available on the ferry. I will have to make my own arrangements to cross the ocean. Not a problem, I will check the schedules and meet them on the other side. I am able to get a booking on the Spirit of Tasmania for Thursday, March 21.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron pp82-3
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 19, 2022, 10:27:22 AM
The air is cool but very comfortable for riding. This is a welcomed reprieve from the heat that will surely come later. At Dunmarra, my second fuel stop for the day, I see a Shell tanker truck at the pumps. He is pulling four tanks- yes four! This is the longest road train I have seen. I can't help but study it closely. I count 86 wheels- imagine the cost of rubber on that baby!
The temperature has become very hot, as I knew it would, so I take a couple of extra breaks before reaching Katherine. I locate David and Norma's small farm a few kilometers out of town. David has a Rotary meeting tonight so Norma and I spend part of the evening hunting cane toads. Cane toads are unwanted pests. They have a poisonous gland that kills snakes and other animals that happen to eat them. Getting rid of the cane toads is Norma's contribution to controlling the environment and the harm they do. I am not sure how much headway she makes because each night she finds and catches several more.
I leave early next morning for a ride out to Katherine Gorge. I encounter several little wallabies on the road- they tend to come out late at night and very early in the morning. After a most scenic ride to Katherine Gorge, I hike the two-hour loop following the rim of the Gorge. I marvel at the views! On my walk back to the parking area I look up to see thousands of flying fox hanging in the trees. Thank goodness they don't fly in the daylight. The flying fox is like a bat only ten to twenty times bigger. I would not want one of those guys flying over my head.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron p99
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Williamson on December 19, 2022, 12:29:13 PM
Hey Bill, could this be the same Doris Maron?  Only pic on the FB page, but sitting on a Magna.

(https://i.ibb.co/bNGJQnw/Doris-Maron-Magna.jpg) (https://ibb.co/5sJFGVp)

https://www.facebook.com/doris.maron/photos (https://www.facebook.com/doris.maron/photos)

It would seem that these days she prefers a pushbike.  I'm not sure how long it will be until I give up the ST1300, in preference to a smaller bike.   One Saturday morning a few months back, sitting on the side of the bed, getting ready for a ride, saying to myself ST or eBike, eBike or ST - the eBike won.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 20, 2022, 12:04:02 PM
Yes, Williamson, I believe that is her, but no way to be certain.  Her's isn't a common name, (although there are 4 in FB!) and the combination with the Magna is pretty convincing.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 20, 2022, 12:04:14 PM
Malaysia
Sunday morning I am up early sitting in the garden area working my computer when Fatima gets up. She opens the back door and calls to me "come see." I grab my camera expecting to see a pretty bird or interesting creature, instead I see the saddlebags on my bike wide open and the contents scattered out on the lawn.
Fatima immediately goes to wake John and Marten and Jen, while I start taking pictures of my bike and belongings. My new riding boots that I just purchased in Australia are gone, my electric pant liners, first aid kit, international electrical plugs and other small items I have not yet realized- all gone. By this time Marten and Jen have determined that their new Compaq laptop they bought four weeks ago is gone, along with numerous other articles. I am thankful I had taken my laptop into my room and locked it in my removable top trunk. The locks on my saddlebags were useless. They did not even get damaged in the break-in. Marten and Jen have metal panniers with strong locks, which were both damaged. They will have to replace the locks and do some major straightening to the panniers to make them usable. Both panniers were broken into on Marten's bike and Jen's. John's bike was not touched. It was parked closest to the building and we surmise that the thieves left once they found the computer, or were scared off before they got to his bike.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron pp114-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 21, 2022, 11:22:34 AM
The temperature is extremely hot in Thailand. I ride to Hat Yai before stopping for lunch. As I pull into a large shopping complex, I wonder if my bike will be safe in the open parking lot. I strap my helmet and riding pants to the handle bar, take my jacket and tank bag, and go in search of food. Inside I find a huge food court containing every American franchise imaginable. I pick KFC and go for the chicken wrap- today I cannot face another rice and curry dish. This is Thailand and the Thai people like their food hot. Yes, even my wrap includes some kind of hot sauce. Oh what I would give for a simple salad or plate of mashed potatoes and gravy. The mall is extremely noisy. The main speakers are blasting out loud music, competing with the music and broadcasts coming from individual stores. Combine all the constant hum of thousands of people and the noise is deafening. I do not linger long at KFC.
I travel a very short distance today. In fact I have only clocked 144 kilometers when I reach Songkhla. I find the Amsterdam Guest House, an older building with clean, comfortable rooms, run by a Dutch couple. The price of my room is two hundred baht per night, or about $7.50 Canadian. I unpack, shower and go for a walk around town.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron pp136-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 23, 2022, 12:59:25 PM
Later that evening around 8:30, as I am walking home from an Internet cafe, I see a man riding an elephant down the street. How odd, in the middle of busy city traffic. It looks awfully strange to me but no one else seems to pay any attention.
After the third day of teaching my Monday to Friday classes, Miss Sally, the assistant manager of Udom Suksa School, calls me. She wants discuss a full time contract. Do I want to commit to that right now? I still have half the world to travel around. The plus side of signing a full time contract is that the school applies and pays for your working visa and entrance visa. My entrance visa expires in a few days and I will have to leave the country and re-enter Thailand to obtain another one. I wonder if, by accepting her offer, my dream of riding around the world would fall by the way side... I turn down her offer.
To get back and forth to my TEFL class on Sundays I catch a tuk-tuk. This is a smaller version of the one I experienced in Songkhla holds six people in the back and one more person in the front seat next to the driver. For Thai people, this is a lot of room but when you put a couple of 'farangs' (the Thai term for foreigners) in the back, it gets crowded. The seats are low and, for us taller people, our knees end up close to our chest. The drivers are crazy as they weave in and out of traffic. I make sure I hang on and try not to slide onto the person next to me. If I sit right at the back by the entrance I am especially careful to hold on- one could easily slide right out the open doorway. When it rains the driver stops and lowers heavy plastic curtains (attached to the exterior of the box) to cover the open windows. There is no cover for the door so if you are sitting next to the doorway you may still get wet. One day the driver pulls into a gas station and fuels up with all seven passengers still aboard. I cannot believe it! That would be a definite offense at home. None-the-less, it is easier to take a tuk-tuk than ride my bike in these jam-packed streets.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron pp148-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 24, 2022, 12:49:30 PM
Once back at Kau San Road I decide to go for a Thai massage before meeting up with Caryn. I pass by several shops before stepping into one that looks quite busy- must be good, I think to myself. They are able to fit me in so I take a seat and wait for ten minutes before being ushered into a large back room lined with single beds built with sturdy wood frames, running the length of the room. Must be ten beds placed side by side with enough room at the foot of them to create a walkway. First thing I notice is a man on one of the beds getting worked on. This is obviously co-ed and I am relieved to see we keep our clothes on for a Thai massage. Mae, my massage therapist who is a tiny little lady, probably no more than four feet ten inches tall, instructs me to lie on my back and relax. She gets on the foot of the bed and begins to work on my legs. Oh, that feels so good. I hear the man a couple of beds down making an occasional moan and ouch sound. What's wrong with him, I think. Then Mae places her arm at the top of my leg where it joins the hip and leans all her weight on me. I gasp and almost hit the roof! That is a sensitive area. But the treatment is just beginning. The little lady might be small but she is certainly powerful. She sits on my legs as she works farther up my body and uses her whole body weight to work out tense muscles. Just when I start to relax and enjoy this she hits another sensitive spot extracting a gasp from me. Then she sits at the head of the bed with her back against the wall and knees bent to her chest. She instructs me to sit in front of her with my back at her knees. She commences to pull my body backwards over her knees, bending, pulling and twisting me into positions I did not know were possible. I'm glad I've been practicing my yoga on a regular basis or she might injure me! I am beginning to understand the noises from the gentleman down the line and wonder if I can take an hour of this treatment. I manage to hang in there and vow never to do that again. That was torture, not a massage- but maybe a person could become accustomed to it if experienced on a regular basis. Definitely something everyone should try at least once.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron pp159-60
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Brock on December 24, 2022, 07:24:13 PM
Those Thai Massages can be brutal.. My Wife has me booked for a 2hour session on Monday...
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 25, 2022, 01:09:34 PM
Now I can ride across the Friendship bridge to Laos. The bridge crosses over the Mekong River connecting Nong Khai, Thailand to Vientiane, Laos- and the two border crossings. The bridge is 1,170 meters long, has two 3.5 meter wide lanes for vehicle traffic, two 1.5 meter wide footpaths and an unfinished single railway line in the middle. Officials have just recently allowed motorcycles to cross bridge. As I reach the Lao end of the bridge there are traffic lights indicating the change over from left lane to right. Traffic drives on the right in Laos.
In no time at all I am at the Lao border gates. It takes two hours to clear customs before being directed to the booth where an officer stamps my visa and staples in a departure card. Next I am directed to room eight in the customs building where I must request a vehicle permit. I enter the room, which is occupied by two men. After a few questions they send me to room six, where I am met by a little man with a squeaky little voice. Now begins the second round of the game of twenty questions. He goes over all the regulations with me before he finally signs the paper and says, in his annoying squeaky voice, "I am giving you fifteen days- you cannot leave the Province of Viang Chan. If you want this extended you must go to the Embassy of Communication in Vientiane. Take this document to room five." 
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron pp175-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Kev Murphy on December 25, 2022, 01:23:07 PM
MERRY CHRISTMAS , BILL  :hatwave
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 26, 2022, 10:13:00 AM
I do a trial pack of my bike rolls and know I will have to lighten my load considerably before I leave. Mr Tan calls to tell me it will cost six thousand baht to crate my bike. I almost explode in his ear. He finally agrees to negotiate with the crating company and calls me back later to say they agreed upon four thousand. I am just sure the Thai people love to take advantage of foreigners. Two days later he calls me to say the weight of the shipment is 650 kilograms. Once again I explode in his ear! "How can that be?" I ask. "The weight was 350kgs when I shipped it from Canada and 398kgs when I shipped it from Australia. How can it possibly be 650kgs now? The bike only weighs 250kgs." I am a little frustrated to say the least. I talk to Khun Tairak about my predicament and he offers to intervene for me. I am so grateful. With his help we manage to get the crate weight downsized to 450kgs. I have to pay another thousand baht for the re-crating but it will bring the shipping cost down considerably. In total it cost me five thousand baht for crating and thirty-five thousand, eight hundred for shipping- approximately $1550 Canadian, complete.
Untamed Spirit  Doris Maron p186  End of Book 1.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 27, 2022, 12:50:57 PM
Nepal
A few blocks from the guesthouse I have an accident. I am riding very cautiously when I notice three women in long colorful saris on the sidewalk ahead. A moment later one of the women, dressed in red, turns and steps off the sidewalk directly into my path. I hit the brakes hard and go down with a bang! As I pick myself up off the road, "F*#^!," involuntarily explodes from my mouth. I should not have used such foul language but I am angry! The woman is half-lying on the ground in front of my bike. She looks up at me with huge, scared, round eyes, picks herself up off the ground, and scurries to the other side of the road. I know I did not hit her, so I'm not sure why she fell.
I have to get the bike up and off the road. I look around and it seems that the world has stopped- people are motionless on the sidewalk and traffic is at a standstill. Everyone is staring at me. I spot two of fellows on the sidewalk and gesture for them to come help me pick up the bike. Luck is with me as one of the men points to a bike shop just a few metres back. He helps me wheel the bike over to the kerb. The windshield is broken, the right brake and floorboard are bent, the mirror is pushed out of place, and there are a few scratches on the chrome. But this is all the damage I can see.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron p27
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 28, 2022, 11:04:37 AM
India
I find a room at the Buddhist Temple and Guest House, recommended in the Lonely Planet guidebook, for one hundred and fifty rupees. I spend thirty-nine on food, thirty-two on water, and have not even spent half the rupees remaining from my twenty US dollar exchange.
My room is a rectangular cell in an old monastery. It has no windows except for a small opening above the heavy door and a small square hole near the top of the bathroom wall. The bathroom has a squat toilet and sink, but no shower. A fan hanging from the ceiling works as long as the power does not fail. I sleep peacefully tonight.
I am up early and packing my bike before 6:00 am. Upon exiting my cell I discover cots on the driveway where people have slept. Had I known that, I would have done the same. I wonder if women are permitted to sleep outside under the stars.
At Gorakhpur I try to find a restaurant, to no avail, so I buy two oranges. Later I stop for a Pepsi- this will have to do for breakfast today. I continue on to Varanasi, arriving at 2:00 in the afternoon. It has taken me more than half a day to ride less than two hundred kilometers. The congestion in the cities and villages slows me down, but there is no way around it. All I can do is pick my way carefully through. Taxi drivers barrel through the streets, laying on their horns. I have learned that the horn is a most vital part of a vehicle. Had I been using my horn in Nepal I might have avoided that accident with the woman in the red sari.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 29, 2022, 12:28:36 PM
Pakistan
I relax on a nice easy chair, but am feeling just enough on edge that I do not get too comfortable. My intuition is telling me something because shortly there is a knock on the door and I open it to find Mr Ahmed standing there. He comes in and makes himself comfortable before asking about Mohammad. I tell him Mr. Naseem is in the shower and should be out soon. I am not happy with this turn of events.
Mr. Ahmed starts asking me questions. They are pretty general at first, but gradually take a personal turn. He asks if I have a friend. I say, "Yes, I have many friends, in the biking community and elsewhere." I am fully aware that is not what he is asking, but I decide to play dumb.
Now the questions get more direct. "Are you in a relationship? Aren't you lonely? Don't you want a relationship?" Moments later he asks, "Are you afraid to stay here alone tonight? One of us can stay with you if you are afraid."
Oh-my-gosh! I have traveled halfway around the world alone and this man thinks I am going to fall for that?
Mr. Ahmed suggests 1 make myself comfortable, take off my boots and socks, and stretch out on the bed if I like. "Don't be shy," he says.
I am still sitting with my riding boots on and ready to bolt for the door if I have to. I am becoming annoyed that Mohammad is taking so long in the shower. He has been in there about half an hour already.
Finally Mohammad makes an appearance. It is about time! The men speak to each other in Urdu, and of course I have no idea what they are saying. My mind is racing and I know that I am not spending the night here. I formulate a plan in my mind, and then tell Mohammad that we have to go out to get our passports and visa application forms photocopied. I remind him that we have to be at the embassy at 8:00 in the morning so we cannot delay on this. He agrees and we leave with our documents in hand, Mohammad telling Mr. Ahmed that we will be back shortly. I am thinking, you might be, sir, but not me.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron p74
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 30, 2022, 12:07:17 PM
Quetta is a dusty frontier town with lots of activity and traffic. Once more I drop my bike while turning a corner and going over a huge speed bump. My strength is gone. I simply lose my balance on the bump and fall over. A man appears immediately and helps me pick it up. Finally I make my way out of this hectic area of town and find a street of hotels. I check the Muslim Hotel and find it is a dive. The next one I stop at is the Maryton. It is clean and comfortable, so I check in here. I need to rest before going back to the Embassy to pick up my visa.
I park my bike in the underground garage and haul my gear up to my room. Today this is too much for me. I drop everything on the floor, crash on the bed and sleep for a couple of hours. When I awaken I order toast and tea before riding back to the Embassy to pick up my visa. By the time I return to my room, Iran visa in hand, my energy is completely zapped once again. I decide to stay another day to sleep and regain some strength.
I spend most of Saturday in my room sleeping. On Sunday, June 8, still tired and weak and with three days left on my Pakistan visa, I decide to stay one more day. I am sure it will only take me one day to reach the border, so I rest most of the day. In the afternoon I take my bike to the service station to get fuel, check the oil, and have it washed. In these countries you do not wash your own bike- it is washed for you. I quite enjoy sitting back and watching as the young fellows wash and polish. For a small fee it is well worth the wait.
While I wait a young man approaches and speaks to me in English. He is a teacher here in Quetta and his wife is a nurse. He invites me to his home for dinner and to meet his family. He offers to pick me up on his little 75cc Honda. Under normal circumstances I would have refused and taken my own bike, but today I am tired so I accept his offer for a ride.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron p97
Title: Re: Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on December 30, 2022, 03:05:03 PM
owning a harley is like masturbating with a cheese grater , its interesting but mostly just painfull

Speaking of cheese graters...

(https://www.imghostr.net/images/2022/12/30/62a2fc6ffe1f02d4bdd5567f07343689.jpg)
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on December 31, 2022, 12:56:37 PM
Iran
As I follow the police car I am thinking I cannot go to the station without my passport. My hotel is a block or two off this road, just two blocks from the police station. I have to make a major decision and my gut instinct tells me to get my passport. When we reach the traffic circle the police car goes straight through and I turn off on the first quarter exit. Immediately their lights and siren comes on so I pull over and stop where I am. I watch as the police car turns and comes to me. The officer is yelling something at me and I am pointing to my hotel and saying, "Passport, hotel, passport, hotel." I continue riding and when I stop at the hotel the officer is still raging on about something.
The officer requests my passport from the hotel clerk and I go to my room to get my carnet de passage. Now I will follow them to the police station. 
Once inside I am led to a waiting area near the entrance and told, in charade fashion, to sit. I offer my carnet but no one is interested in looking at it. Several officers study my passport with all the other country stamps. Whenever someone walks past me I ask, "Why am I here?" Each time they hold up a hand in a wait motion. Either they do not understand English or are pretending not to.
After a few minutes I am escorted into an office to see another man. He does not speak English to me and eventually sends me back to the waiting area. After a dozen different officers have studied my passport, two of them record my information into their ledger. What should take a couple of minutes takes them another ten. Finally they hand me my passport and indicate that I can leave.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron pp119-120
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 01, 2023, 11:41:46 AM
Turkey
At Malakara I get a room for the night. The past two mornings my bike has not been starting and I had to get a boost. I think I need new battery. At my hotel in Malakara a young university student, riding a 250cc motorcycle, spots my bike and stops to talk. His name is Paul, and he is in awe of my Magna. I tell him about having to boost my battery the past two mornings, and he immediately offers to help by contacting his friend Lon. They pull off the seat and take the battery out. The fluid is low- Lon takes it to a shop and tops it up. Once the battery is replaced I go riding for an hour, following Paul on his bike. He takes me on a short tour of the area.
It always amazes me how people appear when I need them. The Universe does provide and I thank the spiritual forces that look after me.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron pp136-7
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 02, 2023, 08:44:38 PM
Denmark
Today, August 31, I will cross the new bridge joining Sweden and Denmark. The bridge crosses the Oresund Strait from Malmo, Sweden to Copenhagen, Denmark, and was officially opened July 1, 2000. It has one of the longest cable stayed main spans in the world at four hundred and ninety meters, with a total length of almost eight kilometers. This stretch of the bridge bends in the shape of a quarter moon and arches up two hundred and four metres above the water, descending again onto the artificial island of Peberholm for four kilometres, then into a tunnel for another four kilometres on the Danish side. I look forward to seeing and riding over this bridge, but when I arrive, much to my disappointment, fog has obliterated all sight of it. I can barely see a metre in front of me, and am not even aware of the point at which I reach the bridge. I feel like I am riding on water in the middle of the ocean. Water crystals bead up on my windshield and face shield, making it very difficult to see. I turn my flashers on to make myself more visible to other vehicles and keep a slow but steady speed. It seems like an eternity before the bridge descends toward the island and the fog lifts and I am able to see again. I go through the tunnel and soon I enter Denmark.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron p156
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 03, 2023, 11:23:45 AM
Germany
Today, while visiting the aquarium, I experience a major shift in my awareness and attention to detail. I have visited other aquariums in the past and enjoyed the colorful fish and plant life, but today is different- today it seems like I am seeing all this for the very first time. I watch in wonder as the fish take in water as we do air, and as the plants swaying in the water provide food and beauty. I notice one feeding on a green plant and imagine the plant saying, "Go ahead, eat lots, I will grow more." I also see sharks swim in harmony with dozens of other species, and wonder why we humans don't learn from them. A large flat fish floats down the glass to rest near another of its kind. If I listened closely I might hear it say, "Just stopped to say I love you." The whole experience leaves me wondering if I'm losing my marbles or if my travels have opened my senses to a greater level of awareness.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron p157
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: STeveo on January 03, 2023, 02:56:03 PM
Thank you for posting these each day, I look forward to them. I have been inspired enough to order a copy myself, so thanks very much for the effort.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 04, 2023, 09:54:43 AM
Argentina
The next day I have a treacherous ride from Puerto San Julian north to Comodoro Rivadavia. I ride into a northwest wind and have trouble holding my head steady. Without a windshield the wind rips at my helmet. I am bent forward, resting the chin of my helmet on my tank bag. Even so, I have to fight to hold my head steady. Trucks that I meet create a blast of wind that tries hard to rip off my head! After four hours of battling this gale, I stop for lunch at Caleta Olivia. When I sit down I realize just how tired I am. It would be so easy to lay my head on the table and go to sleep.
I take my time over lunch, then battle the wind again for another hour north to Comodoro Rivadavia before turning onto Highway 26 heading northwest, directly into the wind. The pressure against my helmet produces tension and pain through my neck and shoulders. Several times I tuck in close behind a vehicle for protection, but their inconsistent speed makes it impossible to stay there. Finally it works. I tuck in close behind a half-ton truck traveling ninety-eight kilometers per hour and ride like this until I reach Sarmiento. Maybe these fellows are bikers and realize what I'm battling. I hope to have a chance to thank them, but they keep going when I turn into a gas station. I definitely need a windshield, although in this wind it might make things worse.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron p187
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: CallMeSteve on January 04, 2023, 04:32:01 PM
Fair dinkum.  This girl sure gets around.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 05, 2023, 10:34:46 AM
Bolivia
The road is better now with the exception of some long, heavy, sandy stretches. In one such stretch I spin out and stop. The sand is deep- my bike ends up in an upright position. I have to get Norma to push me onto the hard packed track. In a rocky, gravel stretch Norma takes another nasty fall. She must be black and blue by now.
When I go to help she tells me her throttle is stuck.
"Maybe that has been part of your problem all along?" I ask.
She agrees that it might be, so after up-righting her bike I proceed to take her throttle lock off. I am so fed up by now that I do not even ask. I just do it. With every fall we have to offload the bike, pick it up, and then reload it. This is wasting so much time that I fear we will repeat last night's experience.
The sun is beginning to disappear behind the mountains by the time I spot Uyuni. I am so relieved that all my earlier frustrations disappear. I spot a tour bus as we ride into town and decide to follow it. I figure that bus is probably going to a hotel. Sure enough, it leads us to the Hotel Tinto where we get a very nice room, plus parking in a locked yard, for thirty Bolivian bolivianos. One Canadian dollar is equal to 6.19 bolivianos, and one US dollar is 8.11 bolivianos.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron pp219-220
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 06, 2023, 01:29:48 PM
I check a couple of shops before finding one that can help. One of the repairmen, Peter, rides as my passenger [on Norma's bike] back to my bike. He looks at the situation then decides he needs a tire pump. There is no air hose at the service station and I only have two small air capsules left. Off we go again back into Oruro. When we return, Peter looks for small pieces of rubber in the yard to plug the hole, and then pumps the tire up. There is still a hissing noise. He finds another hole and plugs it. This time all is quiet. The tire should carry us back to town.
Norma does not want to carry a passenger, so we strap my gear on top of hers, and Peter rides behind me back to the shop. Two men work on the tire. It takes them all evening to repair the holes and get the tire back on the rim. It does not want to seal properly and takes several attempts before they succeed.
At about 7:00 pm the repairmen race outside and pick up all their tools and parts sitting by my bike. Both our bikes are parked along the sidewalk out front. They close the shop door and tell us not to go out and to stay away from the window.
"What is happening?" I ask.
"Protesters are coming," Peter replies, pointing up the street.
We stay put and stand along one wall away from the window. We can still see out and I notice some of the protesters stop and look at our bikes before moving on.
I ask, "What are they protesting?"
Peter replies, "Who knows, everyone protests. Doctors, nurses, teachers, labourers— everyone protests."
At 8:30 the tire is finally back on my bike. My bill is seventy bolivianos, or 11 dollars Canadian.
Untamed Spirit II  Doris Maron pp223-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 07, 2023, 09:34:47 PM
Bjorn (yes, seriously!) explained to me the various hand controls and foot controls; same as a car but different. The gearbox was on the right-hand side and was upside down in shift configuration by modern bike convention but I was blissfully unaware of such distinctions, having never been on a motorcycle before in my life, not even as a pillion, at the now still tender age of thirty-seven.
He pillioned me for about three kilometres through crazy Kathmandu, then offered me the front seat and he climbed on the back. I managed to ride back without killing anybody and of course I was immediately hooked. I wanted this motorcycle! There remained the small issue of the price, and as the bike was only 12 months old I suspected it might be beyond my limited travel budget. When he advised he wanted only US$700 I couldn't believe it - I had almost this amount in my money belt. By the time we rejoined the others on the rooftop for our second beer and further recreationals, I was the proud and excited new owner of a Royal Enfield and had suddenly become something of an accidental motorcyclist.
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 08, 2023, 02:06:11 PM
As the weeks went by and a few of the twenty-seven enquiries turned into solid bookings with deposits paid, I would keep my parents regularly apprised of developments. I had calculated a minimum of six clients was my break-even number; any less than this would not be financially viable. I rang my Dad one day, quite excited, and told him, "Well, this Himalayan Motorcycle Safari is definitely a happening thing - I've got my six starters!"
"Well, actually no you haven't," Austin replied quietly, with a smile in his voice. "You've got seven." At the age of sixty-five, my dad had surreptitiously acquired his motorcycle license in Tassie so he could be a participant of my inaugural Himalayan motorcycle safari. I was speechless; you could have knocked me over with a papadum. To this day it still brings a dampness to my eyes whenever I recount this story.
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris pp34-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 09, 2023, 10:49:45 AM
"Are you sure the road is open, for us to pass?"
"Yes," he replied, before turning to address the group.
"Please go! But it is best perhaps you move quite smartly."
Our bikers needed no further encouragement. By the time I had put my helmet back on and started my bike, they were haring off down the road and I found myself riding Tail End Charlie rather than Fearless Intrepid Leader. But just one kilometre further on, an incoming Pakistani shell exploded into the hillside no more than a hundred metres from the road. I saw fifteen brake lights illuminate simultaneously, and chaos ensued as the guys tried hastily to do U-turns. One fellow stalled his bike, another laid his down gently in the mayhem and confusion.
And then an officer appeared out of nowhere and yelled we were almost through the danger zone and we should continue! More madness as the bikes were turned around once again, and then we quite literally found ourselves right in the thick of it.
Incoming Pakistani shells were exploding on our left. Indian gunners were returning fire from our right, unleashing 135mm artillery shells from their Swedish Bofors guns, with huge percussion shockwaves we could feel thirty metres away. Then they turned and stood gaping, open-jawed, as a colourful group of foreign tourists scrambled furiously through the middle of their war.
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris pp60-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 10, 2023, 11:33:08 AM
As is my usual way, I always carry my motorcycle helmet on board in a helmet bag as cabin luggage, rather than trusting its delicate structure to the dubious baggage handlers of the various airports. I'm sure we've all seen Youtube footage of ground staff tossing fragile musical instruments roughly onto the carts, or playing football with someone's new Louis Vuitton suitcase.
In Dubai I was very grateful to be boarding the last of the three legs. Singapore Airlines always have the most gorgeous young ladies working in their cabin crew, and one of them in particular caught my eye as I found my seat and was stashing my helmet bag in the overhead locker. She offered to help, and jokingly asked why I had brought a bowling ball on board with me.
I chuckled and said, "No, actually it's a motorcycle helmet, I'm very safety conscious. Should I put it on?"
She touched my elbow gently and replied with a stunning smile, "You won't need it, you are in my safe hands now." My heart thumped a little bit louder.
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris p101
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 11, 2023, 11:28:46 AM
Fast forward another six or eight months and we find Marty in his local 7-11 gas station paying for some goodies, when a motorcyclist walks in to pay for his petrol. Marty can't believe his eyes.
"Hey mate, that's a nice bike jacket. Where'd you get that?" he said, with perhaps just a hint of aggressive suspicion in his voice.
"Had it for years, bought it in one of the bike shops up in Elizabeth Street," was the careful reply, with perhaps just a hint of defence in his voice.
"Bullshit! That's my bloody jacket, 'cos I put that rip in it right there!" Marty was by now a little agitated.
So the guy's swung a quick punch into Marty's face, then bolted out of the door without paying, jumped on his bike with his helmet (Marty's helmet!) still on his elbow, and made good his escape.
Except, the whole incident was captured by the CCTV security cameras on the premises. The proprietor called the Police, and after viewing the footage they said, "Yep, we know who this guy is and where he lives. We've been after him for a while but we've never had any concrete evidence. Do you have any way to prove conclusively this is your bike jacket?"
Marty smiled through a fat lip and invited the coppers back to his home, where he sat them down with a coffee to watch his VHS copy of the 1995 Himalayan Heights Motorcycle Safari.  They pissed themselves laughing, got a search warrant issued, and busted the guy for several break-and-enter offences and various burglary charges. And just for good measure, one of assault.
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris pp135-6
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 12, 2023, 11:08:47 AM
India
Kerry was still initially unable to recall what had happened, but eventually many weeks later she was able to reconstruct what happened. She had just overtaken a car and the road had then narrowed suddenly, just as a light truck appeared around a corner, coming the other way. She had braked, but the driver now behind her had failed to respond. The car hit her from behind and knocked her off, and into the path of the oncoming truck, which then ran over her. We have no way of knowing whether either driver stopped to evaluate the situation, but she was alone on the road when Andrew came upon the scene a short time later.
Her injuries were horrendous. Both her legs were broken, with multiple compound fractures. An ankle was shattered and her hips and pelvic girdle were crushed. Her spleen was ruptured, she had severe other internal injuries, a wrist was broken, and she suffered many deep cuts and abrasions. She had lost an enormous quantity of blood; her blood pressure completely failed to register. Her pulse was extremely weak. Kerry had been very close to death.
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris p156
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 13, 2023, 01:21:31 PM
On another occasion, a Kiwi couple were having an issue with their bike and found themselves rolling quietly to a standstill jnder a tree, where they had no option but to wait patiently for our support crew in the minibus behind them. They had not been there two minutes when a local farmer walked up out of his field and, again very much in sign language, enquired as to whether there was a problem. Our couple did their best to explain motorcycle was indeed giving trouble but help was on its way.
The Turkish farmer nodded and remained silent for a moment, then walked to his little cottage about fifty metres way. By the time the support crew arrived, he had returned with three cups of chai, and stood under the shade of the tree quietly drinking tea with his new friends.
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris p192
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 14, 2023, 12:34:35 PM
So we completed the Himalayan Heights tour and Pottsy was happy to have seen Kashmir at last. He returned home to commence a pretty aggressive course of chemotherapy, but nothing was going to save him by this stage. As the end drew near, I went to visit him in the hospital. His beautiful wife, Isabel, was there with him, and the two of them were describing to me the list of drugs and chemicals which were being poured into his body. Graeme saw an opportunity to share one final joke with me.
"They've got me on everything except Viagra at the moment," he said with a smile.
"Well, that's probably a good thing!" I replied, fully realising he was just setting the scene.
"Of course, they're not allowed to call it that any more, are they?" he mused.
I happily walked into his trap. "Really? Why's that?"
"Because it's a brand name. They have to use the generic pharmaceutical term.... Mycoxaflopin."
Isabel hooted with laughter, even though she had probably heard his joke a dozen times already. If anyone ever deserved to live another thirty years on this planet, it was Captain Graeme Potts. But it was not to be. Graeme died just a few weeks short of his 70th birthday. He was old enough to be my father, and young enough to be my kid brother.
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris p198
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 15, 2023, 02:07:51 PM
The following morning however, my throat was visibly swollen and it was painful to consume breakfast. Someone suggested and produced some antihistamines and Denise said, "That's a good idea," so I threw a couple of them down and jumped on the bike. An hour or so later I had the worst accident of my life, and I have no real idea whether or not the antihistamines played a role, but it was then pointed out to me they've been known to cause drowsiness and it's advised not to operate machinery when taking them. The actual mechanics and the impact of the incident have been wiped from my consciousness, I suspect for ever.
But the two guys immediately behind me described how I was thrown high over the handlebars. Maybe I impulsively touched the front brake, I don't know (I'd like to think I know better than that), but I launched, and came down hard on my back. The side of my helmet showed scars from a decent whack.
Other group members were now gathering around me and one of them, Brian Heaton, was a trauma nurse who'd been on a couple of previous trips with me. He asked me if I would like him to remove my helmet, to which I replied I'd like to try doing it myself, in order to see which bits of me were still working. I was able to do so without any difficulty, so I knew my neck, shoulders and spine were okay. But it was at this moment a sudden horrible realisation hit me.
I have a preference for the modern flip-up lid, where you can fold the jaw-piece up and lock it into place in order to get some airflow into your face at low speed, and maybe chat to another rider at the traffic lights, for example. But at speed, you can (you are supposed to!) close it up to give the security and safety of a full-face helmet. I had neglected to close my helmet, and was stupidly barrelling along a gravel road at about 80kph with effectively an open-face helmet, offering not much by way of protection. I had taken a big hit on the side of my helmet, which had then simply flexed sideways and snapped my jaw in three places.
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris pp233-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: CallMeSteve on January 15, 2023, 02:15:47 PM
Ouch. Seriously Ouch.  I’m waiting to hear  what comes after the ad break!
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 16, 2023, 03:41:48 PM
Ouch. Seriously Ouch.  I’m waiting to hear  what comes after the ad break!
Gotta buy the book for that!   :grin
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 16, 2023, 03:43:36 PM
The following day we were still in Montenegro, and people had already commented we'd seen several police cars but wasn't it wonderful none of them seemed remotely interested in motorcycles. I was enjoying a hilly road, at nowhere near the warp speed we'd been doing the day before, but still at a pace exciting enough to get the adrenaline flowing. I came haring around a corner in the noisy end of the power band in fourth, cranked over, and there was a policeman leaning against the bonnet of his patrol car in a layby on the side of the road. He could not have failed to hear me coming from some way off, and he certainly could not have failed to hear me kick it back a gear into third while sitting up straight and pretending not to brake. But he became totally fascinated with the back of his fingernails and chose to completely ignore me - he didn't even look up to acknowledge my presence! I should perhaps have felt slighted or offended, but I just smiled inside my lid and thought, "What a fantastic little country this is."
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris p267
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 18, 2023, 11:07:18 AM
I called upon an analogy I am fond of using when we're in the desert sands of Morocco or Bolivia and people are having a challenging time of it; a simple exercise involving a baseball bat. If you've ever tried to balance a baseball bat vertically on the tip of your finger, you'll find it almost impossible to achieve if you have the heavy end at the bottom, in contact with your finger. This is because you have most of the weight at the same point as the fulcrum - your finger.
Turn the bat up the other way however, with the heavy end up high, and you'll find you immediately have much more control and can maintain balance quite readily. This is not so much because you are raising the bat's centre of gravity (but rest assured you are), it's more because you are shifting the weight away from the fulcrum. This allows you to reflexively move the fulcrum around much more readily beneath the weight and thus maintain overall balance.
"If we apply this concept to riding, Henry," I went on, "the fulcrum in question is where your body touches the bike. We grip our bike with our knees, calf muscles, ankles and feet, yes? If you also have your bum on the seat, this keeps your entire body weight in contact with this fulcrum and you'll not easily be able to throw the bike around below you. If you stand up however, you are releasing your body weight from the fulcrum which you can then move around underneath you with quicker reflexive actions."
Free Back Issue  Mike Ferris pp283-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 19, 2023, 10:58:44 AM
The Road King has sizeable panniers, one which is for the luggage bag, and the other is pretty much permanently packed with bike gear including our waterproofs, a small tool roll, a first aid kit and one of those aerosol puncture repair things that are full of gunk. I'd owned the puncture aerosol for so long that all the paint, including the instructions, has worn off from constant rattling round in the pannier, so it's probably well past its sell-by date. Still, this just goes to prove my theory that, if you carry such things with you, you'll never need them, but if you don't have them with you then, in the remotest place possible, where there's no phone signal, you'll get a puncture or some other disaster for which you're not equipped, and you'll suffer a lingering death. Well, I'm still alive, so it's worked out OK so far.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  p26
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 20, 2023, 12:50:43 PM
[On a previous trip by car to Gibraltar]
Parking, as you might imagine in such a densely populated area, is a bit of a nightmare, so after failing to find anywhere, I eventually parked in a ticketed car park and accepted that, two-and-a-bit days later, when we were due to leave, we would be looking at a hefty fee. Returning to collect the car, I noticed that, on the sign displaying the car park rules (how very British), it clearly stated that, if you lost your ticket, you would have to pay for a full day. Hmm! At the exit barrier, I made a display of searching the car and my wallet and, eventually, smiling sheepishly up at the bloke in the kiosk, said, "I can't find my ticket."
"In that case," came the smug reply from Mr. Jobsworth, "I will have to charge you for a full day's parking. It's the rules, and it says so on the sign."
"That's OK, mate," I replied, handing him a tenner instead of the best part of forty pounds. "It's my fault for losing the ticket. You're only doing your job."
I was still sniggering about my victory as we drove off Gibraltar and into Spain. Kim thinks I'm easily amused by such things, but in this day and age, I see such matters as major victories for we ordinary folk against the rules and regulations of an increasingly bureaucratic state. Saving thirty pounds was pretty good too.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  p33
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 21, 2023, 11:33:09 AM
[On a previous trip by bike by himself...]
"¿Esa es su Harley?" he asked and then, realising I wasn't Spanish repeated his question in very good English. "Is that your Harley?"
I explained it wasn't exactly mine but a rental. It turned out that my new friend was Dutch but had lived in Spain for most of his life. He was also a Harley rider and the local HOG director. He owned the estate agent's across the plaza, and we spent the next hour or so sipping coffee in the sun and talking bikes. When he realised I had no real plans for my ride, he insisted on paying my café bill, took me to his office, got out a map, photocopied a section and highlighted a circuitous route that would eventually take me back to Benidorm. This sort of thing is typical of the biker fraternity. It was doubtful we would ever meet again, but we'd spent an enjoyable hour in each other's company, and he'd gone out of his way to be helpful. I was later very happy that I followed his advice because the route took me deep into the Alicante countryside, through sleepy villages, along winding roads, over hills and down dales- a far cry from Benidorm. The weather was perfect, and his kindness resulted in me having a truly memorable day's ride.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  p63
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 22, 2023, 11:24:41 PM
So far, although the day had remained overcast, the rain had mercifully held off. This was about to change, however, and about an hour after leaving Valencia, in the vicinity of Castellon de la Plana, I could see we were heading towards an unbroken wall of black, angry-looking clouds. What I usually do in such a situation is employ optimism to keep me dry, i.e. I keep riding in the hope that it won't rain. Of course, by the time I realise my optimism is misplaced, there's no suitable place to stop to put on my wets, and it's already raining. Consequently, I'm usually soaked before I get my waterproofs on, which kind of defeats the object of having them in the first place. Today, however, I decided the sky was so black, it was inevitable we were going to hit some rain, so I pulled over next to a small supermarket where we donned our waterproofs. It didn't take long to get togged up, and before long, we were indeed riding through torrential rain.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  p85
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 23, 2023, 09:47:14 PM
We saw quite a lot of Harleys on the road that day. Possibly, this was due to it being a public holiday, but I'd also noticed a few groups of riders on non-Spanish registered bikes, so I wondered what was going on. We'd already passed a large group of Polish-registered bikes on our way out of Barcelona, and when we stopped for gas and coffee at a service station, there were several Harleys parked up, including a group of guys with Swedish plates on their bikes. Wandering across and saying hello, 1 asked them if they were having a good trip, and we swapped a few bike stories. I found out they'd attended a Harley rally in the vicinity over the weekend. I had to take my hat off to them because Stockholm to Barcelona is a trip of 2,800 kilometres (1740 miles). We'd been on the road for ten days and had only so far done around 1,800 kilometres (1,118 miles). The Swedish bikes were heavily customised which is something that's fairly normal for Scandinavian bikes. This is because of the long winters and the short riding season which mean that bikes are usually off the road during the long, dark winters, and their owners get their biking fix by working on them. One of the guys was riding a hard-tail chopper. Hard-tail means bike has a rigid frame and no rear suspension and is usually only seen on bikes that are primarily for show rather than go. This guy was obviously from pure Viking stock because a 5,600-kilometre (3,480-mile) round trip wouldn't be something that many people would attempt on a touring bike, much less a hard-tail. Big respect.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  p110
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 24, 2023, 05:32:12 PM
I have to sing the praises of Kim, who is an amazingly good motorcycle passenger. In fact, riding with Kim is just the same as riding with no Kim. In other words, I don't really notice she's there. If you think that being a good passenger on a motorcycle is easy, it isn't. A bad passenger is hard work for the rider. Kim leans with the bike at exactly the right time and uses her own body language to help me balance when we're moving at walking pace in heavy traffic. She's totally comfortable on the back of a bike, and it's even been known for her to fall asleep on a few occasions. I notice this when I feel her helmet bump against the back of my own. She's never once asked me to slow down or had a go at me for anything, even after some enthusiastic footboard-scraping along roads such as the one we'd just traveled.
Given how good she is on a motorcycle, it's totally weird that she's completely the opposite when in a car. I enjoy my cars as much as my bikes, and I've had some nice vehicles in my time, some of which have been rather quick. Phrases such as "You're going far too fast", "Watch that truck!" and "For God's sake, slow down!" are often accompanied by Kim flinching violently in the passenger seat when I'm enjoying myself. I've consequently learned that the time to enjoy, shall we say, spirited driving, is when Kim isn't with me.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  pp131-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 25, 2023, 12:42:39 PM
Satnav Woman: In one hundred metres, take the next turning on the left.
Me, making the turn: "Thank you so much."
Satnav Woman: Recalculating.
Me: "What?"
Satnav Woman: Recalculating.
Slowing down and collecting a few cars behind me: "Bloody get a move on will you! Where next?"
Satnav Woman: Recalculating.
Car behind: Beep!
Me: "Piss off! I'm lost, and your Spanish road systems are useless."
Satnav Woman: At the first opportunity, make a U-turn.
Me: "Have you seen the size of these streets? There's not enough room to swing a cat, let alone make a U-turn."
Satnav Woman: "Make a U-turn.
Me: "Bloody hell. Hang on a bit, will you? I'm trying to find a place to turn around."
Satnav Woman: Make a U-turn.
I eventually manage to negotiate a few streets, and we're heading back towards the original junction from the same direction as before.
Satnav Woman: In one hundred metres, take the next turning on the left.
Me: "I don't bloody believe it! You said that last time, you stupid woman, and then you immediately told me to make a bloody U-turn because it was the wrong bloody direction!"
Kim: "There's a road sign there for where we want to go. Why don't you just go that way?"
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  pp153-4
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 26, 2023, 01:57:28 PM
Satnav Woman and my misted-up glasses confused me at a junction, and I mistakenly turned right instead of left at a traffic island, so we were now about to head in the wrong direction. I decided not to filter onto the road and, instead, stopped and put my left indicator on and waited for a gap in the traffic so that I could cross to the other side of the road we were joining. It was then that we encountered the second dickhead of our trip. The guy behind, who could quite easily have passed us on our right to take the filter, decided it would be a good idea to start sounding his horn in protest at my possibly illegal, but certainly not dangerous, manoeuvre. I waved an apology, but this just resulted in more beeping. By this point, I was tired, cold, wet and, consequently, wasn't in the best of moods, so when Kim leaned forward to tell me that he was videoing us with his phone, that was the last straw. I switched off the bike, leaned her over onto the kickstand, dismounted and strode towards the guy in his car with less than charitable thoughts in my mind. I must have looked as threatening as I was feeling because the dickhead suddenly stopped videoing and decided he could pass the bike after all and made a hasty exit. Still, I guess that encountering only two dickheads in eighteen days of travelling wasn't a bad statistic and definitely one that endorses my view that Spain is a very agreeable place and so are the vast majority of its people.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  p190
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: hobs on January 26, 2023, 02:32:18 PM
You can't buy happiness,
but you can buy a motorcycle,
and that is basically the same thing.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 27, 2023, 01:55:47 PM
Another thing that spoiled a perfect day's riding was that, when we reached Poio, Satnav Woman guided us up and down some very narrow village roads. When she finally announced, "You have reached your destination," we couldn't see anything that looked remotely like a guesthouse. We parked the bike and walked up and down lanes looking for Rua O Muino, which was the road on which the guesthouse, Casa O Muino, was supposedly located, but found absolutely nothing. I was forced to execute a very tricky three-point turn on a narrow, steeply sloping road, which isn't something to be recommended on a heavy touring bike loaded with luggage. As a motorbike has no reverse gear, and it's impossible to paddle a heavy bike backwards and uphill, it's necessary to make sure that all the uphill parts of the turn are done in a forward direction, allowing the bike to reverse by gravity. I was hot and sweating in my bike gear and not in the best of moods after managing to get the bike pointed in the right direction. My mood hadn't improved much when, an hour later, we had still not located the guesthouse. Further consultations with Satnav Woman kept directing us back to the same place where she continued to insist we'd reached our destination. I eventually flagged down a passing motorist and asked if he could direct us to Casa O Muino.
"Si, sigueme," he replied with a smile.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  pp200-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 28, 2023, 11:20:12 PM
As we were leaving the gas station, I noticed the bike was running very fast on tick-over and hoped this wasn't going to become another expensive technical problem. Running all my other Harleys had cost me almost nothing, apart from routine servicing. Roadie, however, which was the latest, brand-new and much-improved model when I bought it, was a different story. My thinking when I bought the bike was that, because it was my intention this would probably be the bike would keep until I retired from biking, I might as well get the newest model with all the upgrades and improvements that came with it. It had, however, cost me an arm and a leg over the years due to various problems, even though I'd racked up less than 30,000 kilometres (18,600 miles).
The original front brake discs warped at quite low mileage, so I upgraded them to a pair of Harley chrome floating discs. These looked great but also warped at not very many more kilometres later. This wasn't a major expense, but three pairs of brake discs in 25,000 kilometres (15,000 miles) is a bit much. The engine control unit had died when I'd stupidly jet-washed the bike. That was expensive, but as it was totally my fault; I can't really blame Harley-Davidson.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  p205
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 29, 2023, 03:29:47 PM
As we strolled (or teetered, in Kim's case) back to the hotel, we passed a double garage attached to a large house. The garage was adjacent to the pavement; the doors were glass-panelled, and the lights had been left on to allow people to see inside. When I stopped for a look, I saw a couple of classic cars set amongst a collection of auto memorabilia. The whole collection was set out and displayed beautifully, and I thought that sharing his passion and beautiful display with passers-by was a splendid thing for the owner to have done.
This random and unusual act of kindness gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling and provided a great end to a really good evening. I liked Cascais a lot.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  p224
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 30, 2023, 11:54:20 AM
Apart from a few bikeless years when the family came along, biking has been a part of my life since I was fourteen and too young to hold a licence. I can honestly say that, even when I've been soaking wet, cold, tired and miserable on a bike, I've never once considered giving up biking. I've enjoyed riding bikes, working on bikes, customising bikes and dreaming about bikes, and I've particularly enjoyed the fact that, for the past several years, biking has been something Kim and I have been able to share. Over the years, I've ridden motorcycles in seventeen different countries, and on most these occasions, Kim has been with me. It's been a fantastic way for us to discover new countries and to experience all that goes with this type of travel. Motorcycling has also enabled us to meet many new people through the biking community, many of whom have become good friends. We've laughed a lot, drunk a lot and partied a lot as well as ridden a lot in the company of many, many good people, all due to biking.
The Furthest Points  Andy Hewitt  p237
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on January 31, 2023, 11:16:09 AM
George is a veteran of Round-the-World by motorbike, having circumnavigated the globe 5 times as illustrated on his hard panniers. He watches as we struggle to put up the 4 x 4 metre tarpaulin in the relentless wind. We tie it to trees, we fix the poles with guy ropes and tent pegs into the sandy earth, we raise one side against the wind, we do more combinations and angles ever dreamt of to get it to stay up and eventually even with George's help we abandon the idea and pack it away. George tells us that he can put up his tarpaulin single-handed. Next we haul out the tent and 'kitchen' on a handy bench arrangement nearby. George shows us his tent, his bedding, his tent pegs, his kitchen and cooking facilities and offers a multitude of advice and tips on ways we could do better. George is certainly helpful, and certainly demoralising. We were quite happy with our lot before we met George. Anyway we have stored a written and a photographic record of all the stuff that George has and will use his expert information another time.
2up2wheels In Eastern Europe B and S Niemann p9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 01, 2023, 01:15:45 PM
Its almost 4 pm and we have been searching for a campsite for 2 hours, travelling ever South, being bombarded by the buffeting wind. On the 6th attempt, following the GPS's 'places to camp' category, we turned into an arched gateway down a narrow road into a vast courtyard. Oops, this looks like a private house. But no, a very enthusiastic Guiseppe rushed to meet and greet and welcome us to his family-owned campsite. How could we resist? "Please, Go anywhere, Camp anywhere, Hot showers, Moonlight walk, Bread and Coffee at the cafe, spare tables to use, Enjoy, Enjoy, Enjoy." And we did. After setting up camp, (no tarpaulin tonight), and cooking up a batch of spaghetti and pesto, we took Guiseppe's advice. We had a sunset stroll around the well-lit paths of Volcano Sulfate, peering into bubbling steam-filled holes and smelling wafting sulphur. It soon got dark and as we crept into our homely little red tent we cosied up in the warmth. Warmth! Soon we were shedding sleeping bags and opening up the vents. Why are we so hot? For underfloor heating in a tent we can seriously recommend camping in a volcano.
2up2wheels In Eastern Europe B and S Niemann p16
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 02, 2023, 03:52:11 PM
Pietre down to Maiori was a spectacularly stunning and dangerous 9.5kms. I say dangerous because we had a close one. I had been taking photos with my right hand but decided that the steep S-bends required more than just a balancing act. I really should be holding on to Brausch. In one simultaneous moment as I leant left to tuck the camera away, Brausch swung around a right bend, I straightened up and we over-balanced skimming into a retaining wall, bouncing on the right-side pannier which threw us sharply left again. The next S-bend was immediately upon us but fortunately a small pull-off area allowed us to right ourselves and stop next to a low wall below us with a heavenly view of thousands of dangling lemons. Without thinking too much that we could have been dangling amongst them, we unpacked the lunch bag and munched on last night's left-over spaghetti pesto. Time and space for a break, indeed. Brausch is puzzled as to why the bike had veered into the wall for no apparent reason. I then realised the critical part that the pillion plays in the whole riding and cornering pattern and confessed that I'd been fiddling around at the back putting my camera away, which changed the balance of the bike. Not so good on a hairpin bend on a cliff face.
2up2wheels In Eastern Europe B and S Niemann p20
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 03, 2023, 12:04:19 PM
As we pull up at a set of traffic lights to stop, we nod at a fellow rider on a Honda in full bike gear. He nods back.
Lifting up my visor "Hi!" I call, "we're looking for a campsite." Pulling out his music earphones, he indicates one about 10kms away on the other side of the city. Talking through a full face helmet is never easy, but we nod to each other and we get a head start as he is still fiddling with his earphones. At the next traffic light we stop again and this time our biker friend pulls up behind us. How did he get there? The traffic light turns green, we go, he overtakes and indicates for us to pullover. He spotted our 'HORIZONS UNLIMITED' sticker on the back box and invites us to couch-surf. How amazing this dreadful day is turning out to be. It's a very quick whizzy ride through the streets of Sofia, us lumbering on our laden Sertao, following speedy Honda man. We get to the apartment, take off our helmets, introduce ourselves and are immediately welcomed into the wonderful world of Mitko and his fun-loving fabulous friends. The next four hours are a magical tour of Sofia and the parks and the history and the bar and the buildings. We greet the Eagle statues where revolutions and protests take place, eager now to call up our mates on Whatsapp. We meet and greet the great statues of heroes and villains that abound in the huge central park. We stop and stroke the beautiful sculpture of a stone elephant, rubbed smooth by more than 60 years of stroking. 
2up2wheels In Eastern Europe B and S Niemann p43
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 04, 2023, 12:58:40 PM
It is Sunday and we noticed rather a lot of wedding parties taking place in these villages. This rural setting is glorious, passing brightly painted gypsy wagons parked in lay-bys and fields of meadows of mixed flowers. Old buses and trucks, having been converted, served as mobile bee-keeping colonies and the sweet fragrance of the Narcissus fields fills the air. That's the great thing about being on a motorbike. You are in the air, the smells, the weather, and the sounds as you ride by and they are in you. We love it.
A very pretty town with a public park festooned with red roses everywhere entices us to stop for a coffee break. Somehow we had landed up at a wedding celebration in this park. The beautiful bride and her handsome groom asked if they could pose on our bike for their photo album. We oblige. So somewhere in Romania, there is a wedding album with these photos. I wonder what their grandchildren will think?
2up2wheels In Eastern Europe B and S Niemann p68
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 05, 2023, 03:59:06 PM
Our Eastern European tour was a great success. We tested the bike and ourselves for two months and 15,000kms and are pleasantly surprised at the outcome. We can pitch a tent for 57 days. We can survive in rain and cold and heat. We can eat cold spaghetti out of a glass jar and we still love each other.
However, there are a few modifications to be made on the bike, the most pressing one being to install a Scott Oiler. Brausch is meticulous about regularly oiling the chain at 100km intervals. When the bike is unloaded it's an effort. When the bike is loaded it's a BIG "One, two, three, heave" we call as we synchronise feet placements, arm movements and shoulder pushing. For our RTW (Round The World) trip, which is looming, this is not something we want to do. After a bit of research on the internet, there's a trip to Norfolk, via the Battle Flower Show in Jersey.
2up2wheels In Eastern Europe B and S Niemann p95
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 06, 2023, 10:34:05 AM
How does one turn into a pig-headed motorcycle addict?  I can only speak for myself.  Back some fifty years ago I caught a hero worship bug in high school!
There was this cool dude who rode about our Smallville town wearing a college jacket and a leather British cap atop a nifty 1947 AJS500.  The sound of this single made goosebumps cover my whole body. Frederick Erickson was his name.  He was studying engineering at nearby Evansville College- his knowledge kept that AJS in top condition.
I remember the AJ's beautiful music on those hot summer nights.  My bed was next to a window and I wondered how nice it would be to be riding that magnificent machine.  I didn't have a licence yet, so I painted the AJS logo on my bicycle.
Jerry Barnett's Motorcycle Memories  B. Walneck p1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 07, 2023, 02:11:47 PM
I hate bringing up my teens again, but holy-moly!  I didn't realise what a great time I was having back then, especially when I discovered motorcycles!  My bicycle suddenly became an exercise I didn't want.  I now had a BSA 250 to haul my skinny frame anywhere I chose to go.  What freedom- what enchantment!  Oh yes- and what work.  That little Beezer kept me busy tightening loose bolts and nuts plus keeping the right adjustment on the primary and rear chain.  Then there was the problem of oil slicks on my father's garage floor- a good drip pan saved my rump.
My favourite time to ride was those cool Fall weekends, with no school.  The smell of burning leaves in the air!  Back then the cool evenings never fazed me.  Now, any temperature below 65 degrees and I'm ready to mothball the bike for Winter.
Jerry Barnett's Motorcycle Memories  B. Walneck p35
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 08, 2023, 12:21:23 PM
The doofus syndrome seemed to be part of me in those carefree schooldays.  I remember having this crush on our cheerleader.  One evening as I passed by her house, there she was, raking leaves!
I revved the throttle to get her attention and my muffler fell off!  Then, to top that, I burnt my hand retrieving the hot muffler from the gutter.
Jerry Barnett's Motorcycle Memories  B. Walneck p35
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Williamson on February 08, 2023, 01:09:07 PM
The doofus syndrome seemed to be part of me in those carefree schooldays.  I remember having this crush on our cheerleader.  One evening as I passed by her house, there she was, raking leaves!
I revved the throttle to get her attention and my muffler fell off!  Then, to top that, I burnt my hand retrieving the hot muffler from the gutter.
Jerry Barnett's Motorcycle Memories  B. Walneck p35

Sounds like something Nigel would do.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on February 09, 2023, 02:13:35 PM
Original top-shape vintage bikes can be expensive.  Since you can't take them with you, they should bring even more dollars for your children.  Besides leaving them all your money, they could each have a chunk of motorcycle history, and maybe be able to get parts for it at some future date.  Who knows what that little '86 Honda Z059 may be worth some day, if buyers keep desiring it and are willing to inflate its price a thousand times the original.
I enjoyed the array of vendors' treasures at the swap meet. There was everything from a Kushman kick starter to a rear rack for a '62 Vespa. One guy, who didn't have big bucks, showed up in a small dump truck and tipped his collection out on a tarpaulin.  I came by later on my way out- he said he sold everything including the tarp!  Maybe I should go home and rustle up a few parts!
Jerry Barnett's Motorcycle Memories  B. Walneck p49
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on April 25, 2023, 11:35:53 AM
A short essay from the British Spectator.  Remember, they use MPH.  80mph is nearly 130kph.  I deduce their top speed is like our 110kph. And apparently, you don't just get points- there's remedial education involved.   :eek  Oh, and to save you looking it up, Lurpak is like a tub of modified butter.
=======================================
Why speeding is good for us by Alec Marsh

What’s your go-to speed on the motorway? Do you snuffle along at 70, slowing down the lorries in your Rover 75? More likely you cruise the middle lane on the cusp of 80 – just on the wrong side of the law, plus 10 per cent and then some. That’s what I like to do, along with nine out of ten of the other drivers I observe. Perhaps you’re one of the speed merchants in a grot-covered Beamer, or a fly-drenched Audi who insists on making the M4 a little autobahn when no speed cameras are watching?

That’s the joy of Britain’s motorways, there’s something for everyone. Aside from pensioners who accidentally stray onto the motorway on their mobility scooter in search of an Asda, no one voluntarily drives under 70. Seventy’s not the limit, it’s the threshold, like a blind in poker.

I can’t help thinking we should accept that a bit of moderate speeding here or there

Which is odd, isn’t it? Since as nations go, we’re a law-abiding bunch. Yet if we had the same approach to shopping as we do speeding, then you’d routinely see respectable lawyers, doctors or City types sweeping goodies into their trollies and attempting to bungle the whole lot out the door without paying. But somehow, because it’s in our cars – compartmentalised as a motoring offence – and most of the time we get away with it, it’s accepted. Speeding is not even frowned upon, like smoking with your kids in your car is now.   

And that’s the point: it’s precisely because we live in such an incredibly law-abiding society that speeding is so appealing. It releases an essential dollop of dopamine and reminds us that we really are still alive and functionally autonomous; nudging 80 or even 90 on the motorway is the release valve that keeps the nation obedient. Could this feeble infringement be all that stands between civilisation and a complete and utter breakdown into anarchy? Quite possibly: tacitly permitting drivers to speed in certain circumstances where the risks are lower helps those same drivers to contain themselves where they matter much more – like when you’re driving near a playground or through the medieval streets of a market town.

Whatever some might assert, homo sapiens are competitive types – you only have to watch a game of croquet to know how quickly the mask of civility can slip. Fortunately, motorways, dual carriageways and thoroughly dangerous A-roads allow us to live out our competitive urges, thereby obviating the risk of exploring them in more damaging or sociopathic ways. Decry it if you will but getting ahead of the traffic makes me feel like a winner. At that moment, I feel like the Ayrton Senna of the Basingstoke bypass. 

In a world where house ownership is a mystery to many and a pack of Lurpak costs about the same as a pair of shoes, feeling like a winner is a big deal to an awful lot of us. And you know what? Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. If only Prince Harry sated his younger-sibling competitive urges on discreet motorway speeding, then perhaps he and his wife would still be living it up in Frogmore Cottage, not penned up in a California pad. 

There’s another obvious motivator for speeding. Driving inappropriately quickly is fun: seeing the tarmac disappear so fast under the bonnet that it’s a blur; seeing the speedo tip to as-yet unexperienced highs; hearing the engine reach new pitches ­– there’s something inexorably joyful about it. Mr Toad wasn’t wrong. Saying goodbye to safety is a buzz, one that intensifies the closer one gets to death. After all, the fact of death is what makes life worth living. At its best, speeding is like a parachute jump or performing a loop-the-loop in a plane. Few things get the blood going like almost causing a pile-up on the M1. 

Of course, when you do get stopped the punishment is a speed awareness course. I’ve done two of them over the past decade, one thanks to an ill-timed spree in my pal Bob’s midlife crisis Porsche on the A303. I loved them both. There is an unintentional comedy that comes with being in a windowless conference room in a cheap suburban hotel with 50-odd members of the general public – all being forced to learn the basics of road safety on a Saturday morning. It’s like being trapped in a dystopian Channel 5 documentary. What you discover is the scary level of road-based ignorance and motoring self-delusion out there (no doubt my fellow attendees felt much the same). 

For this reason, I believe we could all do with a quick Highway Code refresher once a decade. But at the same time, I can’t help thinking we should accept that a bit of moderate speeding here or there, under the right conditions, isn’t really such a bad thing. Perhaps there is such a thing as good speeding – 80, say, on a motorway – as opposed to bad speeding, such as 32 in a 30mph-zone with a primary school or nursery close by. After all, if we are going to speed, we should at least do it responsibly. 
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Bodø on May 07, 2023, 03:47:19 PM
when I discovered motorcycles ... my bicycle suddenly became an exercise I didn't want.

I can relate to this.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 08, 2023, 01:37:00 PM
I would love to say that we rode off in a blaze of glory. Rather, I almost got myself killed within 20 minutes of hitting the highway. I had followed Patrick a little too closely as he tried to overtake another car and assumed there was enough time for both of us to pass. Instead, I got honked and screamed at by the car in the adjacent lane for cutting out in front of him and almost causing an accident. And then again ten minutes later when the first rest stop appeared and Patrick pulled in to tell me off for the very same thing.
"Ride for yourself!" he exclaimed before pulling me into a tight hug. I have no idea how much of that embrace was genuine affection and relief that I had not landed myself in the hospital (or worse) within the first half an hour of riding on my own and how much was him attempting to deflect any anger at him telling me what to do. I generally react poorly to commands, even those meant to save my life. Suggestions are better.
"I know, I know," I said. "But I really thought I had time, and I didn't want to lose you. You're so much faster than me and you zip in and out and make it look so easy."
"Seriously Sherrie," Patrick said as he pulled back to look directly in the face. "That is our number one rule. Every person rides for themselves."
Keep The Shiny Side Up  Sherrie McCarthy p10
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 09, 2023, 11:07:27 AM
I was ready to give up at this point. Not that I was ever committed to begin with. But to his credit, Ed declared that he had learned from his mistake and now he was fully committed.
"Do or die and I would rather the do part!" he cried.
The thing is, I was afraid that the die part was the more likely possibility.
On his second attempt he gunned her up onto the bridge and this time he met with success. From there Joscha and Patrick would slide boards along so that he could put his feet down without dropping the bike. And then after a few terrifying minutes that felt like hours, it was Patrick's turn. He did both our bikes and Joscha followed. I was on video detail.
Despite the insanity of getting over the bridge, once on the other side it was I who was greeted by a Romanian farmer who declared that I was a freak (muy freako I do believe he said) for being a girl and driving my own bike. Not the three who risked neck and bike to get across. Me.
Keep The Shiny Side Up  Sherrie McCarthy p33
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 10, 2023, 11:53:31 AM
At this point, Patrick had been dragging around an empty plastic tube for days. He had the idea that he would attach it to his bike and fill it with his tools. His reasoning was that tools are rarely needed but when they are you want them to be as easily accessible as possible. However, due to their weight and general inconvenience in storing them they are always buried on the bike. At least, they are with us. Which is why when we had a problem with the bike a couple of days previously he had had to take all our attached gear off of the bike, dig out the tools, use them and then put them back away before re-attaching everything once more. Now Patrick had the brilliant idea of using the tube he found in a store as tool storage that he could attach to the side of the bike, making storage and access super easy.
Given how friendly the motorcycle shop guy was, we thought he may be the one to help us attach it. And so we decided to take a day off from our travels, veg out, enjoy the nice hotel room at hostel prices and scrub not just ourselves but also our clothes clean. After dropping our clothes off at a laundry service, I spent the day at the café in front of the hotel. When Patrick returned he had the contraption mounted and it looked way better than I ever thought it could or would. It functioned perfectly AND there was no charge. Motorcycle guy just said Bulgarians have a big heart and to consider it a gift from Bulgaria.
Leaving Bulgaria was hard!
Keep The Shiny Side Up  Sherrie McCarthy p48
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 11, 2023, 02:07:50 PM
In most countries the lanes exist because you are expected to choose one. In Turkey, they are a mere suggestion. And if you are so unlucky as to be driving within the confines of the markings of a lane and a Turkish coach driver wants to drive in the middle of both, and not just in the middle of both, but to bump you out of your proper lane, well you better be willing to give it to him, because if not, he merely tries to hit you with his coach because he is bigger and, therefore, you are expected to slow down and let him take over. Even though there is more than enough space in his lane for his bus, he just won't or can't use it. Or they cut you off, almost maiming you in the process, just to turn right five minutes later.
Keep The Shiny Side Up  Sherrie McCarthy p83
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 12, 2023, 01:07:23 PM
On the way to the road, we hit a spot of about a kilometre of sand. I am proud to say I rocked it. More than once I thought both myself and the bike were going down. Each time that the bike began to go one way I got it back up and under me. We made it the road and I was positively beaming with both exhilaration and pride. I was no longer a newbie. I was rocking this.
Perhaps I let this go a little to my head. As we rode higher in the mountains I let myself go with the bike. I was one with my machine. I was leaning into my corners and speeding out of them instead of slowing down and crawling around out of them as well. One of my last pain-free thoughts was "this is why motorcycling is so freaking awesome."
My next series of thoughts came to me as if they were swimming up to meet me. Like my brain could not process what was actually happening and instead decided to slow down the feedback to make sure it was real. One second I was leaning into the curve and the next the bike was skidding out beneath me while the handle bar came up to meet my face. Then I was on the ground. Most of my memory around the accident and the immediate time following it was swallowed up in a state of shock. I do remember thinking "this didn't happen, this didn't happen" over and over again. I remember looking down and seeing a pulpy bloody hole where the part of my pants that covered my knee used to be. Then things go black.
Keep The Shiny Side Up  Sherrie McCarthy pp104-5
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 14, 2023, 12:18:50 AM
Finally, after almost two weeks of having been held up at the school teachers' accommodation, we were ready to ride. I knew my knee was not perfect. I just thought that the pain of the knee would be less than the pain of staying. Getting out on the back of Patrick's bike had been great but I was ready to ride myself.
I anticipated the pain sitting on the bike and having my tissue and stitches stretched would cause. Far from pleasant and easy (tears sprang to my eyes) I was ready for them emotionally and physically. What I had not thought was going to happen was that I would feel such intense fear. I thought I might be jittery at best. But I wanted to get on the bike. I was looking forward to continuing on with our journey. It was not just that I was bored in the little town. I missed the road. I had been riding pillion with Patrick without any problem. This was not the first time I was on a bike again, just the first time I was the rider. And it made me quake.
Ride away we did, but at about 50 km an hour even once we hit the highway. For his part, Patrick did not complain and was in fact extremely supportive. I think he was just happy that we were back on the road again.
Keep The Shiny Side Up  Sherrie McCarthy pp108-9
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 14, 2023, 12:40:02 PM
How did we ever trick ourselves into believing it is all in the destination and the journey counts for nothing?
Because that is where the real change happens. That is where you get to know yourself. I love to travel and I love to travel by motorcycle, but not to escape, although that is part of it. Getting away does help you put things into new perspective. But it is not just to get away. Motorcycle travel immerses you in the experience in a way that gives me more control. Or at the very least more of the illusion of it. (I have had enough crashes to know that I am not always in control no matter what I truly believe). It also allows me to spend time in my own head. To unravel all the knotty bits and allow the time to really look at them while simultaneously having had the privilege to approach slowly and from a distance.
Keep The Shiny Side Up  Sherrie McCarthy pp141-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Williamson on May 14, 2023, 12:43:19 PM
.... I love to travel ... by motorcycle  ...

I like to travel too, it means that I don't to do chores in and around the house ... by motorcycle too, it's more fun.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 15, 2023, 09:44:50 PM
Something always happens on a motorcycle ride that could never happen in a car.
I can't remember the last time my butt hurt after an hour behind the wheel in a car. I can't remember a car making my wrists hurt, my backache or my eyes water. Car driving never gets too cold or too hot. Car driving never scares the crap out of you when you cross railroad tracks or hit a pothole. You never get the feeling the wind is actually blowing hard enough to topple you when you're in a car. Stuff doesn't get stuck in your teeth while driving a car. Bugs, rocks and cigarette butts never hit you in the chops when you drive a car. All of those things happen on a motorcycle.
Easy to see why I love motorcycles so much, huh? Yeah, I know but, until the bike bug bites you, you just have to trust guys like me who have already been bitten.
For The Love Of The Motorcycle  T. J. Overstake p2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 16, 2023, 03:38:47 PM
Wanna know the real reason we all decided to go to Motorcycle Patrol?  It's cool.
That's right. Even though we all come to appreciate the other reasons to be a Motor, the real reason we decided to get into this specialized line of work is because of the coolness factor. The uniforms are cool. The bikes are cool, haulin' ass everywhere you go is cool, and the freedom to ride almost anywhere in the city you want to go is cool too. Yep, we're all the same when it comes to being Motors. We all applied because it was a cool job. Don't get me wrong, we're not all a bunch of vain fanatics. Well, okay, the vain part's probably true, but the fanatic part isn't. We are all dedicated to the work and wouldn't have become Motors if we didn't intend to do a great job. We had to be good, dedicated cops, or we wouldn't have successfully completed the competitive selection process. We were simply hard working cops that were lucky enough to earn a spot in one of the coolest assignments available.
Motors are a very fraternal bunch, too. When I meet other cops from around the country, and around the world, I can always relate somewhat to who they are and what they do. 
For The Love Of The Motorcycle  T. J. Overstake p34
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 17, 2023, 11:42:02 AM
The Taurus appeared so quickly in front of me, I had almost no chance to react. I grabbed a handful of front brake and mashed on the rear brake with my right foot but realizing I was going to hit him at nearly 45 miles per hour, instinct took over, and I stood up in my seat. I teach my students to do anything possible to minimize their body's impact with a car. One thing I always taught was to elevate yourself high enough to clear the other vehicle if possible. I'd taught this theory a hundred times. Now I was going to get to try it out.
I was standing up when I hit the Taurus in its left rear tire. The force of the impact was immense, and as I flew over the car's trunk the Taurus rotated in a counter-clockwise spin. As for me, I flew through the air about 40 feet before hitting the ground and sliding to a stop.
My helmet, although it did an excellent job protecting my head, was shattered from the impact with the ground. I was rashed up again and was sore just about all over and was convinced I lost my right foot. The pain in my foot was terrible, and I was certain it had been chopped off. Despite the pain and the hard impact, I was still conscious and aware I was lying in the middle of the road. All the cars I passed on Thomas Road would surely be bearing down on me any second, and I was afraid I'd get run over. As it turned out, I needn't have worried.
God loves Police Officers and nothing demonstrates this more than the reaction of four guys in a Chevy on the night of my accident.
For The Love Of The Motorcycle  T. J. Overstake pp60-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 18, 2023, 08:06:01 PM
I had a traffic post near the beginning of this leg of the trip and when the motorcade passed, I had to hustle to the intersection of Third Street and Van Buren to attend my fixed post. Both Third Street and Van Buren Street were closed to traffic, but I was stationed here for crowd control along with several other motorcops.
That leads me to the cool part. The press had several fixed cameras set up along the route, as the local news channels broadcast most of the Pope's trip on live TV. We had several small areas roped off for press cameras and one of these roped-off areas was on the same corner of Third and Van Buren where I was standing. One of the press members in this area was a photographer for our local paper, the Arizona Republic, who was standing next to and slightly behind me when he snapped the picture that would grace the front page of the next day's paper. And that's the cool part. On the front page of the paper was a full page photo of the Pope standing in his Popemobile and looking directly at me, in the photo's foreground holding out his hands as if to say hello. It was a neat shot and copies of it floated around the station for months. Most had handwritten captions such as "Hey Tim, Long Time No See!" and the like.
For The Love Of The Motorcycle  T. J. Overstake pp91-2
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 19, 2023, 11:14:25 AM
The crowd was on us in an instant. The press of the crowd was enormous, and before I knew it I was pinned hard against the driver's side of the Cobra. The motorcop behind me and the two on the passenger side of the Cobra were, likewise, pinned against the car. There we were, sitting astride our running bikes, leaning into the unprotected sides of a priceless antique roadster, being pressed by the weight of thousands of straining people.
I've been a cop for a long, long time. I've been shot at, stabbed, beaten, kicked and run over by a parade float but this was the closest I'd ever come to being killed in the line of duty.
I was immobilized. My right leg was pinned between the car and my bike and my left leg was pinned hard against the bike by the crowd. I could hear people scream in pain as they pressed bare skin against the red-hot metal of my motorcycle's engine and searing hot exhaust system, but still they pressed against us. After a few seconds, I could feel the metal of the car give way under the intense pressure of my leg and motorcycle being pressed deeper and deeper into the side of the car. My right hip was forced against the windshield frame of the Cobra and as the pressure grew the windshield shattered from the growing pressure of the crowd. I managed to keep my hands free and as did my brothers on their bikes, tried to push back at the crowd. We hollered against impossible noise trying to get people to move away from the car. Finally, a hastily gathered group of about 15 officers forced their way through the crowd and up to the Cobra.
For The Love Of The Motorcycle  T. J. Overstake p98
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 21, 2023, 09:01:32 PM
So, why did I name my motorcycle? Here's the truth. We know why men refer to all things mechanical in the gender specific, fairer sex, don't we? Simply explained, any inanimate object that requires attention, pampering, spoiling, regaling, encouragement, egging on or flat out bribery to operate as intended is... well, it's obviously female- I can feel the building violent retort from female readers.
Don't get angry, it's a compliment. To operate as intended means, to operate without deviation, intuition, spontaneity, coquettishness, volatility or any other variance in behaviour. Variances that men do not understand how to explain. Who would want a female companion like that? Not I say I, with one eye on my Princess Bride as she reads this explanation. One only has to be sitting in a torrential rainstorm on a motorcycle, a motorcycle that's doted upon and cherished and has been its entire life, as it chooses that moment not to start. Seemingly oblivious to the fact it was running just fine five minutes ago. Can you hear the muttered plea?
"Come on sweetheart, not now, why would she do this NOW?" See? Female.
Memoir Of A Motorcycle Madman  L. A. Nolan pp7-8
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 22, 2023, 09:06:46 PM
Real India can only be seen from a motorcycle. There is no point arguing about that, it is just the way God planned it.
We stopped in a small roadside dhaba and the old man behind the wooden counter whipped us up a delicious mutton curry while his grandson wiped the dust off the bike with a tattered rag. It started to rain- small droplets, but both rush to wheel Mina right into the dhaba with ear-to-ear smiles. Both refused any extra money from us as we were leaving, as if our enjoyment was tip enough. All they required was an assurance we enjoyed the mutton.
Memoir Of A Motorcycle Madman  L. A. Nolan p25
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 29, 2023, 12:26:32 AM
There are sacrifices to be made when you leave the safety of the four-lane tarmac for sure. But the rewards far outweigh the discomforts. If you want to see India, or any country, get into the guts of it. Get messy. You don't see the things we have seen from the highway, it's not possible.
Spectacular sunsets splashing every conceivable hue of red, purple and orange across the heavens don't appear in-between off ramps. In Gujarat, we had to pull over to watch. The symphony in the sky was too distracting to ride through without staring at it, the riot of colour made it impossible to limit ourselves to the odd westward glance. So we stopped and dismounted. After turning off the bikes, we stood on the side of the road, wrapped in the warm blanket of dusk, and witnessed the onset of twilight in complete wonder.
I am yet to see an expressway exit sign that says "Crystalline Hidden Lake 2 km. Look Left". Yet, to the left of this tiny country road, we found a huge deposit of clear blue aqua pura that beckoned us to her stony shore and allowed us to sit and gaze. Contentedly embraced by tranquility, we sat as the village children played around us. Pure magic!
Memoir Of A Motorcycle Madman  L. A. Nolan p59
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 29, 2023, 01:45:56 PM
Without warning, a darkness appeared ahead. It was impossible to tell how far away this shroud of mystery was. There was no visual reference. Two kilometres? Ten? After a few moments it became clear what it was and Sandy slowed to 60 kmph. Sandstorm! I zipped my leather up tight to my neck as I had been cruising with it open to enjoy the breeze. I struggled to pull my buff up over my mouth and nose, difficult to do in gloves and a full-face helmet. Just as I was considering stopping to do it, the tidal wave of whipping sand engulfed us.
Visibility dropped to three meters in a heartbeat, it was dark as a winter's night. I slipped back in behind Sandeep, gripped the handlebars and squeezed the tank with my knees. The swirling sand pelted my visor, and the wind buffered me from all sides, like a massive invisible finger giving me a poke this way, then that. The tarmac was alive! It was shifting, undulating, with pebbles and dust. My bike skipped and slid its way along looking for a solid purchase. The adrenaline meter rose to 100% and I clenched my teeth as a wicked smile broke across my face. Alas, the desert Gods were just toying with us. It wasn't severe and after several minutes of intense excitement we burst back into brilliant sunshine. Amazing!
Memoir Of A Motorcycle Madman  L. A. Nolan pp60-1
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on May 30, 2023, 01:29:22 PM
Gingerly we picked our way down the side of the foothill and within thirty minutes, were back on glorious smooth and twisty tarmac. For the next hour, it engulfed me in pure motorcyclist euphoria. I was riding third in a mechanical column that settled into a rhythmic meander, winding its way through a panoramic mountain scape. As bikers, we all have our talents and shortcomings, our preferences and dislikes. For me it's twisties. I am seldom more content than when I am weaving my bike along a series of hairpin bends. The dip and flow of a winding road soothe me. I squeeze the tank with my knees, become one with my bike and we choreograph ourselves into a precise and balanced dance between man machine and asphalt. That is how it was, right until the music stopped.
Memoir Of A Motorcycle Madman  L. A. Nolan pp83-4

P.S. For me, Biggles, he can have his hairpin bends.  I like curves.  Hairpins are just hard work and too slow.
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on June 30, 2023, 11:17:51 AM
That was really my first experience notorcycle 'touring', but as the weather grew warmer so the distances grew longer. Almost every Sunday we would ride somewhere- anywhere- just for the joy of riding. Wicklow, Arklow, Wexford; 80 miles, 100 miles, 150 miles. One Saturday morning we even rode the 202 miles to Belfast and back simply to buy a Barbour jacket. A lot of folks said we were crazy: maybe they were right. A lot of folks still say we're crazy; maybe they're still right.
The important thing was that I was getting out there on my bike and seeing new countryside. Sure, we'd sit back and watch numbers of the Dublin Motorcycle Tour Club blast past on their new Honda 750s, BMWs and a lone Moto Guzzi V7 Ambassador en route to some far-flung corner of the land at intergalactic speed sitting there on our slightly ratty little Hondas and hold forth at great length on why we'd never bother with such-and-such a superbike for touring, but we each knew precisely which bike we'd buy for that Big Trip.
Being realists as well as dreamers, however, we stayed for the time being with our little bikes and little trips. It was the first of many lessons learned over the years to be proved true time and time again: you don't need a large engine or a specialized touring bike to go touring. It makes the journey easier in many ways, but it sure ain't essential.
What is essential is a certain degree of wanderlust, that strong desire to experience as much of the world beyond your own back door as possible. That's the basic ingredient: the only other indispensable item is some kind of powered two-wheeled transport. 
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p13
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 01, 2023, 12:32:59 PM
If they're not strutting around on beaches they're busy making an art form out of driving badly- no, make that atrociously. When we hit Naples we came upon a two-way street designed to take two lanes of cars in each direction, with a solid white line down the middle. But because the volume of traffic going south was by far the greater, the drivers took it upon themselves to use all four lanes in one direction. A thin line of Fiat 500s tried to squeeze northwards between the other cars and the pavement as well.  What the southbound drivers had all forgotten was that this street also had tram tracks running up the centre, so, when two trams tried to force their way up against the tide of Neapolitan madness, chaos reigned supreme. More cars took to the pavements; the others tried to split in the middle to let the trams by. It was the ultimate traffic mess. When we eventually fought our way out of it we had to ride for 20 minutes through the most depressing slums I have ever encountered, along garbage-strewn cobbled streets wet with overflowing drains in the 95° heat. After paying a 500 lire toll to get in we had to cough up a further 100 lire to get out! 'See Naples and die'- we know what you mean.   
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p45
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 02, 2023, 12:27:11 PM
Down by the harbour we discovered the statue of the 'Merlion', Singapore's heraldic beast. It bears a plaque reading 'The Merlion is a mythological beast created by the Singapore Tourist Board in 1975'. With Annie gone, it was time to tame the Paper Tiger, so we went down to the insurance office for Third Party insurance, valid in Singapore and Malaysia; to the Singapore AA for an import licence and a circulation permit; to the shipping office for a delivery order, and to the wharf for... the bikes? Oh, no! First the bikes had to be lifted out of the hold. They were covered in a stinking film from the sheep with whom they'd shared their home. Then the wharfage had to be calculated. A clerk measured them, over the extremities, and arrived at a figure of two cubic metres each. This was transmuted, by the magic of arithmetic, into a weight of two tonnes each. Just wait, I thought, until Soichiro Honda hears about his new 2-tonne trail bikes.
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p57
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 03, 2023, 09:13:24 PM
By the time we got to Bangkok, I had something else besides my shoulder to worry about- sunstroke. How do you get sunstroke while wearing a crash helmet? By exposing the base of your neck to the sun, that's how. I had been wearing only a singlet and the vicious sun had cooked my spinal fluid. It sounds worse than it was, actually; I just felt deathly ill for a few days and couldn't keep any food down. After I recovered, Charlie picked up a case of Bangkok belly.
The city itself was slowly disintegrating. Roads and footpaths were crumbling, the klongs or canals were stinking cesspits and as for the power lines... there was a bit of a thunderstorm when we arrived, and some of the powerlines had been blown together by the wind and were fusing, spitting sparks across the road and writhing in the air as they melted. Most street corners have their tangle of old, discarded wires aloft, ends waving in the breeze. Who knows which ones are live?
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p64
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 04, 2023, 02:28:57 PM
Charlie's bike was still showing a slight oil leak at the head gasket and my shift drum stopper bolt had shorn through. A friend of Paul's got his father to make us a new one, far better than the old, and Paul's brother JP arranged for me to go to the hospital and have a nasty boil on my arm lanced. When we left, the local boys had become rather dissatisfied with their bikes. The Yezdis they were riding, locally built Jawas, lagged rather noticeably behind the Hondas in sophistication. We left them trying to devise a way of improving the rear suspension to XL standards. The Grand Trunk Road swallowed us on our way to Jammu and Kashmir. At a truck stop on the main road we finally managed to get a hot curry. Indians tend to be very solicitous of Europeans- they don't believe we can eat their curries. Charlie and I, being curry fiends, amazed this lot by going back for second helpings.
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p75
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 05, 2023, 11:06:36 PM
Peshawar, especially the military cantonment, was pretty and green. At the gate to the Khyber road, there's a sign that warns you that once past the gate you're on your own- the government takes no responsibility for you. During the hours of darkness nobody is allowed in at all. It's not terribly hard to see why they're so careful. All the male locals carry bandoliers and well-used 303 rifles, and they look tough. These are the Pathans of song and story, and they'd make it to President in any bike gang I've ever seen, without even riding a bike.
The road through the pass is surprisingly good, although infested by cars and pick-up trucks all carrying more passengers than you'd think possible. They take the boot lids off the cars and passengers sit there and on the roof-rack while the family of the driver travels inside. Everybody grins and waves, which takes the edge off the universal toughness a bit. Villages feature high walls and watch towers. The border town is called Tor Khan and consists of a number of mud huts collectively defying gravity. One of the more ragged looking edifices is the Tourist Hotel which, while it may not have running water, does have cold beer as well as a very entertaining proprietor.
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p81
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 06, 2023, 04:22:19 PM
We made it to the Mashad campsite and sat down to calm our nerves with a beer, our first encounter with Iranian drivers behind us. Iranians are the worst drivers in the world. They think nothing of pulling out to overtake a bus that's passing a truck that's passing another bus- on a blind corner. They are also unfamiliar with the use of the gears. On flat roads, they drive in top gear with the accelerator flat to the boards and they don't change down for hills. As a result they were passing us on the flat and we were passing them on the hills. This brought out the homicidal maniac in them, since it is apparently a deadly insult to pass a car on a bike. They would chase us and run us off the road. Consequently we spent a great deal of time in the dirt getting up the nerve to go back onto the tar. Every police station has a stone plinth outside with a particularly badly mangled car on it, presumably as a warning. Nobody takes any notice.
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p87
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 07, 2023, 11:21:42 AM
The fine weather broke towards the middle of January and we moved to Marrakesh and more blue skies. The Mols came with us, and it felt like a bike club run with the three bikes. Camp was made in the larger and cheaper of the two rocky Marrakesh sites and although hygiene left something to be desired, it was a relaxed sort of place and we settled in well. Marrakesh was like something out of the Thousand and One Nights. The old main square, the Djeema el Fna, was filled with conjurers, fire-eaters, snake charmers, dentists, acrobats, musicians and traders at all hours of the day. The intricate passageways of the souks (the markets), held fascinating workshops and good bargains- if you haggled carefully. We left the bikes outside in the care of the human parking meters, attendants with large brass plaques which they wore proudly and ostentatiously. You had to bargain with them, too, over the parking fees. Our most spectacular coup came in the campsite. An old bloke was selling warm, fuzzy, striped blankets, and he had one that was really lovely. His starting price was 350 dirhams, and he assured us that was not his 'rich tourists' price'. After an entire evening of dedicated haggling, he settled for 35 dirhams, a t-shirt, two pairs of socks, a shirt, a tie and... one of Annie's bras. He had a little trouble figuring out what this wispy nylon thing was, but he got the idea when we held it onto his chest. Then he was hugely amused.
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p116
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 08, 2023, 01:06:01 PM
America, land of contrasts! Things were quite different at Customs. Not only did the officer disdain to search my luggage, but as soon as he noticed that I was a motorcyclist- easily deduced from the crash helmet under my arm- he engaged me in a lengthy and interesting discussion of bike usage in the US. He then closed his station and went off to find out the easiest and cheapest way in which I might get my bike, which had come by air freight, out of bond. Ten minutes later, equipped with detailed- and unfortunately wrong- information, as well as the address and phone number of my first American friend. I boarded the bus into Gotham City. For $5 the airport bus is good value. You get to goggle out at the fascinating and scary concrete ribbons of the freeways, contemplate the towering housing projects and remember all the warnings about New York- while you're still safe. As soon as you step out of the bus at the Lower East Side Bus Terminal you're on your own. At 1:00am.  For me, this seemed about on a par with crossing Parramatta Road (Sydney's main traffic artery) at 5pm on a Friday afternoon. Death lurked everywhere.    
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p159
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 09, 2023, 12:29:53 PM
In the evening, I bought one can each of six different beers and retreated to the room I shared with a swarthy Frenchman and two melancholy Danes. As I listened to tales of touring the US and Canada by BMW- this from the Frenchman, who'd shipped his bike over and spent eight weeks buzzing around- I sampled the brews. They were all awful, without exception. Pale, flavourless and nearly non-alchoholic, they all tasted the same. Bad sign.
One of the Danes explained his melancholia. He had, it seemed been mugged. His papers, money and travellers' cheques had been taken- in Miami, of all places. I'd always thought of Miami as a sort of geriatric ante-room to a morgue, but it seemed street crime was a problem. For the Dane, anyway. His embassy, fortunately had come to the rescue. They had replaced his passport on the spot and had lent him some money.
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p161
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 11, 2023, 12:06:04 AM
At my next petrol stop I was invited in for coffee and brownies and then, when I stopped to tighten the chain, the sidestand broke and the bike fell on my head. Fun all day! I slept in the campground in the Badlands that night, among the grotesque landforms that give the place its name. Spooky, with spires of soft rock reaching for the full moon, not a blade of grass or a bush on them.
The Harley shop in Rapid City was very helpful, and even managed to locate someone who would weld my sidestand back for a few dollars.
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p175
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 11, 2023, 11:54:27 AM
I started looking for a bike shop to service the XL. The Honda dealer's Service Manager was dubious. She indicated her crew of mechanics and said, "These prima donnas only like to put new bits on new bikes," something that the XL definitely wasn't. But she sent me down to Cycle Source, a small service shop run by the inimitable Jack Delmas. Jack is an ex-cop, and one of the friendliest, most helpful blokes I've ever met. His staff aren't far behind, either- Chris, on the spares counter, and Eddie, in the workshop, both helped me out. The shop was like a little home away from home. Eddie also got the bike running- and starting- beautifully- all at very reasonable rates. I celebrated by doing wheelies up the steep streets of San Francisco, racing the cable cars.
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p181
Title: Re: Motorcycle Quote of the Day
Post by: Biggles on July 12, 2023, 10:33:45 PM
Exactly why we're hooked is hard to say. A lot of writers have tried to pin down the reasons and come up gasping for words. Others have come close. Robert Louis Stevenson might have had motorcycling in mind when he wrote: 'To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive'. A little ahead of his time, perhaps, but as true today as it was then. Roger Hull, the bard of the American touring motorcyclist, puts it this way: 'It's the going. I mosey across the miles, mingle with the elements, merge with the macrocosm. See and feel for myself what others may have seen and experienced before me. A wandering cowboy, I... with an emotional genealogy which is suspected of linkage back to Cortez or Columbus or Marco Polo or to any other free spirit whose vision tended to focus on that which lay beyond what his eyes could see. Touring is a lonely feat; we are solitary seekers, wanderers sensitive to our physical surroundings, while we live mostly inside our heads.'
Therein lies the greater part of the magic: while touring on a motorcycle your body and your senses are open to an ever-changing battery of stimuli, and your mind in its solitude is the freer to savour them. The combined effect is spellbinding, and that's what keeps the touring rider coming back for more again and again.
Motorcycle Touring  Peter Thoeming p186

That's all for now, until I read another book.  There's still quite a few unread.