So I decided that I would take the bike north last weekend, because there is a bloke there who sells Wolfman motorcycle luggage. I had my heart set on getting one of their bags, but as I had no idea if it would fit, I wanted to go up there to check out the gear in person. Besides, it would be great to get out of London for a weekend! Some wide open spaces!! Much needed...
So on Saturday morning I pulled the bike apart to install my new GPS, which unfortunately meant I would have to take the tank off. Thankfully my Haynes manual helped me to get through that, so I put it all back together, with no screws missing, or leftover screws, I quite proudly pulled out of the driveway with my GPS set to Get The Hell Out Of London.
I headed north to Derby where Martin from Winding Roads lives, and a few hours later I came off the M1 and pulled into his driveway. He set me up with a great little tank bag, and showed me what he had on offer as far as larger luggage for the back goes. I think I stood there chatting to him for over an hour, on his Saturday no less. I can highly recommend him as a great guy to get advice from for luggage.
I then headed further north to the Peak District, where on the map I saw lots of green and open spaces. Once I got in the region, I noticed my bike started to stutter. I kept riding, because by this point in time it was 5 in the evening, and I was ready for dinner and bed. I was knackered! Unfortunately the 2 hostels I had picked were booked out, so I was now looking for a place on the fly, with a misfiring bike. I rode through a town and as I exited out the other side, the bike konked out altogether! With my extremely limited mechanical knowledge I tried to figure it out. My instincts were that it was a fuel starvation problem, but I had a full tank, and the fuel tap was working fine.
I had just passed a pub, so I secured the bike as best I could, grabbed all my stuff, and headed back to the warmth. with a cup of tea headed my way, I asked (loud enough for the patrons to hear) the barman if he knew of any motorcycle mechanics. He looked blank, and looked at the old fella's in the bar, who's football match had just finished. They had a bit of a discussion, and as it was decided, Brooksy, who was outside having a smoke, would know of someone. But before I could settle down for my tea, it was decided that I would park my bike in the courtyard of the pub (the landlady had no idea at this point), and they would introduce me to Mick. Mick is a car mechanic, but conveniently lives across the road. They told me of a few B&B's just down the road, so set off to find a place. The place was full, the next two didn't answer their doors, so when the fourth place answered and said they had room, but it was £50, I said fine, as long as that comes with a warm bed...
I dumped my things, and headed straight back out to pick up the forlorn looking bike from the side of the road. Luckily it was all downhill to the pub, so once it got going, I freewheeled all the way! Even through a set of red lights... I got it into the courtyard, and went back into the warmth. At this point Brooksy took me across the road to Mick's house, but he wasn't home. His wife very kindly gave me their home phone number, and I could call later on.
Of course a few of the old blokes who said they knew a little about mechanics had a look, and put their two cents in. They decided that it was electrical, the spark plugs or the coil (whatever that is). But it was most likely something small.
So there was nothing for me to do but enjoy the rest of my night! Brooksy bought me cider, and introduced me to the locals. It was very much a local pub, where everyone knew everyone.
At this point I think I should just state that Brooksy is a 49 year old man with hardly any front teeth, and a wife and a two year old at home. Now the no front teeth part did not come as a surprise because as the night went on he got more and more drunk and also high to top it off... It was certainly an interesting night. As Charlotte (Mick's daughter, who I met later in the evening, and incidently the only woman I met) said, I had met the village idiot.
I retired fairly early. In the morning I woke up confused. The times changed to summer time, and of course I got it wrong, as I do every time, so I got down to breakfast late, but the owner was lovely and cooked me breakfast anyway.
I spent the morning trying to figure out what my insurance companies name was. Not only did I not have my insurance details with me, but I had no idea even who I was with! Hopeless.
I went into town to a car parts place to ask about a motorcycle shop, as I had heard in the pub last night that there was one around. They directed me to the shop, and I think I had walked a good few miles when Mick finally answered the phone. I was so relieved I cannot tell you! So a marched back, and got the bike into his yard where he was fixing his daughter's car. He checked the spark plugs, which I now know how to do, but they were fine. He decided that we would need to pull the tank off, and guess what! I actually knew how to do that. So I pulled her apart again, and patiently waited for him to finish Charlotte's car. Turned out he was gonna be a while, so went for a walk on the public footpaths.
Still can't get used to it though! They go right through people's houses property. I was in a lady's property but i couldn't see how to get out the other side. I was about to turn around and walk out the other side, but then she came home. So I chatted to her about the farm, and she had a cottage there that was 250yrs old!! There is nothing that old in Australia!!! And there it was part of her compound. I then continued on and then got a phone call from Mick saying that he had fixed, so I hurried back.
Turns out I was right! It was fuel starvation! A piece of gunk got cought behind the pin of the acceleration fuel pipe, and stopped fuel from getting in. Apparently some carburettor cleaner and clean fuel fixed it right up. So I put her back together and rode off into the sunset (not really, it was only 3pm!). All for the hefty price of £20! and 10 of that was for the new spark plugs he gave me. What a nice guy!
As it happens, I had already booked the B&B for that night and called in sick the next day, so i was going to enjoy my enforced long weekend! So I went for a ride around the countryside, windy little roads, before heading back to the B&B. There the owners directed me to a place for Sunday Roast, great food. My first carvery!
I rode home on Monday. A long 6 hour ride on the motorway. It is decided that I do not like motorway riding. Hunkering down and just sitting there is not my idea of fun. particularly when it was raining as hard as it was for the first two hours. I didn't want to ride fast, cause of the standing water, but I could sit behind trucks either, because of the spray they throw up... At one point I was stuck behind a truck that was throwing up that much spray that I couldn't see a thing! It really scared me! I had to floor it to get past.
Well, that was my first weekend trip, that didn't go exactly to plan, but ended up having a great time anyway!
A brief look at the Route Map of the weekend.
