the magazine for wey valley advanced motorcyclists 45 spring 2013 - web.pdfintercom spring 2013 2...

The Magazine for Wey Valley Advanced Motorcyclists S P R I N G 2 0 1 3 n u m b e r 4 5

A 125 Yamaha and a Cock Fight

Sturgis Excursion

Let the Train take the Strain

Ride to The End of the World

I n t e r c o m S p r i n g 2 0 1 3

2 http://www.wvam.org.uk

Test Passes 2

Chairman’s Words 3

Social Networks - Do me a Favour 4

Editorial 5

Keegan’s Kolumn 6

Club Night - California Superbike School 7

My Bike Build 8

Nearly a ROGs Run 10

A 125 Yamaha and a Cock Fight 14

Sturgis Excursion 18

Let the Train take the Strain 26

Ride to the End of The World 30

Chief Observer’s Report 37


http://www.wvam.org.uk 3



With Facebookattracting over 1 billion activeusers and Twitter approachinghalf a billion users, the questionnowadays isn’t ‘are you onFacebook/Twitter’ but ‘why areyou not on Facebook/Twitter'?WVAM now has a revamped Twitter account andwe intend to link it to our Facebook page so thatany twitter tweets automatically get posted ontoFacebook. We want it to provide an extra stringto our bow in terms of club recruitment andmember retention, as well as keeping us up withthe times. There are a number of ways for clubslike ourselves to use social networking; they cantry and attract would-be members by ‘kidnapping’them when they are searching for things, or retainmembers’ interest and involvement, and buildreputation in the wider

community through lively on-line conversations.

We’re not planning to use our Twitter (orFacebook) accounts to try and attract would-bemembers by grabbing them when they’researching for things (we’ll leave that to the searchengines). What we want to do is to put the effortinto regular and interesting content to generatecurrent and lively conversations on line. This willpromote the fact that we are an active and socialclub and allow us to interact with local businessesand other users who share our interest inadvanced motorcycling. Through ‘shared’ and‘retweeted’ content we expose the club to a muchwider audience, enhancing our already strongreputation.

We need members to please join the Facebookpage and ‘Follow’ the new Twitter account.Whenever you can, please interact, share photosor links, tag or retweet us. Let’s see if we cangenerate a vibrant on-linepresence.

https://www.facebook.com/weyvalleyadvancedmotorcyclists

http://www.twitter.com/WeyValleyIAM



There’s nothing quite like the glint of sunshineon chrome to seduce me into abandoning mydesk and finding an excuse to ride! And we’rehaving an increasing number of days where thesun does exactly that! Welcome to the Springedition of Intercom and I hope that you too havehad the opportunity to get out in the sunshine(albeit with jacket liners, Neil) and discover whatnew potholes the winter has left in yourfavourite roads.

We’ve been riding around trying to find theperfect picture for the front cover – in my mind’seye there are a couple of bikes in the foregroundin front of daffodils or tulips under a lushflowering cherry or magnolia in full bloom. Ifound the perfect spot when working in Solihulllast week, but didn’t have a bike with me. Oursearch has left me able to name the location ofevery magnolia tree in Surrey, though! I noticethat when you commit to something (like editingIntercom) that it makes you do stuff youwouldn’t normally do – read stuff you wouldn’tusually bother with, ride to find a cherry tree,

notice beautiful things that would look good ona front cover photo. Sometimes gettingIntercom together each quarter feels like a painin the butt, a nuisance and something done inservice only, but the truth is, like many acts ofservice, we are enriched by the process in someway, every single edition.

Thank you for your contributions – we love toget them and read them. Thank you for giving uspermission toedit them. Keepit coming in –the magazine isonly ever asinteresting asthe materialyou send us.

Janet JonesCo-editor

Notice



From the London Times:

Obviously they’ve been to our club!

And a quote that puts our current climate bollocksin perspective.

The very same guy who sailedwith Captain Cook and his sailing masterLieutenant William Bligh. Now there’s a link to theCock Fighting story on page 12.

______________________________

I’m off on an OAP Gap Year or two!

So not so sure what contribution I can make tofurther editions of Intercom; huge sigh of reliefemitting from Ripley Village Hall! My wife and I aretaking a couple of years out to travel againspending summer months north of the equatorand the winter south. Plan to revisit what wasonce known as Indochina where fortunatelyFrench is no longer the lingua franca otherwise I’dbe stuffed.

I’ll be along to the club from time to time just tokeep my Observers badge current. Don’t want tohave to take that test again, well not soonanyway. (It’s not that difficult really so get signedup for a Goodwood assessment soon)

Hope you’ve enjoyed my small contribution andoccasional rant against the Warmists.

Tony Keegan



Last year we had a series of interesting eveningsat Club Night which is the third Thursday of eachmonth. A number of presentations took place bythe Training Team, Guy Allen on ContinentalRiding, Air Jacket demonstration , a number ofSat-nav classes, the film Closer to the Edge withGuy Martin, The Trail Riders Fellowship on GreenLaning and also California Superbike School andRapid Training with regards to their Track Days.

These evenings are your Club Night and you arewelcome to come forward with ideas to make ita great occasion. A sterling job is done by SteveMcCormick but he needs our support to makethis a must attend on the calendar. We lookforward to a great year ahead.

Here are a number of photographs ofour lads and ladies going throughtheir paces with the ‘CorrectionalOfficers’ on how to corner with thehelp of a simulator.



For a while now I have wanted to do one, for allsorts of reasons, mainly because it interests meand tickles my “guy” button, but also because Iwanted and needed an escape from time totime, something that hopefully won’t have anypressures attached and can evolve as I desire. Iimagined myself spending endless hoursturning it over in my head and spending endlesscash (in my head) on swanky trick parts. I havebeen thinking and talking (to myself) about it forquite a while, but just hadn’t gotten around to it,like so many things, but then something reallycool happened, I got older!!! And along camethis… for my Birthday!

Now this bad boy had turned up my arm wasforced into re-sorting the garage. My garage setup is over ten years old and a lot of it workbiased - I wanted to even that up and put a littlepleasure space into it. One weekend everythingcame out, a lot was thrown away and re-jigged,and space was created, though limited, to playand tinker with my nuts until the wee smallhours!Like most things in life, one job creates anotherjob and the workshop/man cave neededupdating. An upsurge in years has beenmatched by a fairly quick down surge in

eyesight; dim and dark places are not the rightenvironment to create fast toys (especially whenthey must be tip top and safe to use at roadspeeds and flat chat on the track. Somethingfalling off at over 150 mph isn’t, funnily enough,part of my dream). A trip to Wickes and threenew four foot strip lights replaced the one 60Watter as a start to proper illumination of theliteral, and bike building variety.

Part of the journey is to go through the bike fromtop to bottom. As the project moves through thedifferent areas of the bike you must find out howit’s put together and assess what has stayed thetest of time (7500 miles and four years sincenew) and what has not. I had to replace someparts with trick ones, check out my reasons fordoing so, and hopefully, the results on how theyall perform and come together. I invite you tocome along with me and see first-hand how it allgoes. I imagine it will be a fairly lengthyprocess, but something that I hope you may findof interest, if only at some points. Suffice to say,my little Kawasaki is getting a full shake downand going over - more power, electrickery intuning, some dyno time, new suspenders,hopefully some track time (this year) and awhole load of learning and head scratching inthe process. I invite you all along for the ride,warts, Feck ups and all!!

So where have we got to so far?

I have to be serious about some things (notmany I grant you) but some things areimportant. Pet dislikes for me are things thatdon’t make sense (there are way way too manyof them to list) and things that don’t workproperly. Things that don’t work properly areusually cheap, or cheap! Kawasaki’s are alsocheap (relatively) by the way…. And spendingmoney on things that work properly usually



isn’t, but there are reasons forboth. I would certainly notspend big money on somethingthat was disposable, butsomething that’s a keeper?Well that’s different - it needsto last.

Things that are poorly designedtend to be tricky to use and thiswas never more apparent thanwhen I went to put the bike onthe ramp. With two people it’snot so difficult but on your ownis a slightly different affair andsafety comes into play, late atnight on your own in a garage.A little slip could end in a littleKawasaki sitting on you, ratherthan the other way round, somoney had to be invested innew paddock stands. Harris was my preferredoption - they’re not cheap by any means but Ipicked up a second hand pair in good nick forabout half price.

The difference over a cheap setis huge and could mean thedifference between a bike goingover on its side while loading, ornot. Even if it just fell against thewall and dented the tank in thetight space I have, I would kickmyself, so it seems to me thatthe stands are a greatinvestment!

Stands bought, lights boughtand working, time to get dirty!

I’ve always liked a small arse so Igo around the back to see whatcomes up and decide it’s a goodplace to take out some rubber. Ican’t fit any more innuendos inone sentence so I’ll move on.

Back wheel removed, it’s time to get cleaningand see what Zippy is like under the gunk….ohdear! I have a lot of cleaning to do……



The builders are in. The head buildingconstructor, Mr Popat, arrives just as I am aboutto depart for the rendezvous for today's run out -the Hogs Back car park on the A31 as you godown the hill out of Guildford. We met there lasttime in the pouring rain. The rain died away thatday after ten miles and we had a good ride outto Hive beach.

Mr Popat is here because the extension requirespiling consistent with the original used on thehouse. There are to be nine piles in the ground(at great expense) to conform to the localbuilding regulations. We reach a decision and Igear up and get the Buell out of the garage.

There is now a trench just beyond the garagedoor and I feel a bit unsure as I wheel the bikeover the boards. They look unsafe for amoment. It is psycho - logicthat you think you will fallinto the hole just becauseyou can see it - like gettingthe “willies” when you standon a glass floor hundreds offeet above the ground. I don’tmuch mind falling into thehole but the embarrassmentand repair cost to the bikeworry me more.

I am prepared with GPS,camera and fliers for theLondon Motorcycle Museum(LLM), where I work. I have a

LMM transfer stuck to the back of my hi-viz vestto add to my biker image. It is 09:03 and themeet up is for 09:30. The run for us 'daytrippers' is out to lunch at Stow-on-the-Wold.(The overnighters are off to Wales for scenery,beer, cribbage, challenging roads and morebeer and cribbage!) The day is cloudy, but warmfor October and I’m feeling good but as I goalong the A312 the engine management warninglight comes on. It quickly goes off. Three milesdown the road it does it again. This time the

engine cutscompletely, butrestarts in a fraction ofa second.

This symptom hadmaterialised for thefirst time yesterday.I had been returningfrom Jack’s Fish andChip shop on theoutskirts of Bagshot.(Half price fish andchips eachWednesday from12:00 to 1:00 pm for



senior citizens, whose ranks I am helping toswell). I was too late to get the meal dealbecause I was chatting and focusing onpromoting the museum. Many peopleremembered me from my last visit. Some hadvisited the museum since I had spoken to themabout it last May. I was about to head into thefish and chip shop when I read from a distancethat the nearby MOT station catered formotorcycles as well as cars and I set off withevangelical zeal.

This garage wastes nothing. The door handle isa short ratchet wrench from a socket set thathas been welded to the square bar that turnsthe latch. The man running the place is happyfor me to leave fliers for the customers to lookat. I compliment him on his door handle and goback to the fish and chip shop where I getpermission to leave some fliers at their deskand sit down to eat.

I was about to head off home when I saw somenew faces and stopped to hand out more fliers.I spent ages talking to a guy who has troubleturning right on his bike. He is OK in a car andhe thinks that a sidecar might help him get backon the road. He was waiting for me to fire up theBuell to hear what it sounded like. I obliged andglided around the car park to the exit before

heading home.

On my way back up the A30 the low fuel warninglight comes on. I still have thirty miles or moreon reserve and should be able to get homeeasily, but then the engine management lightcomes on and I fear that the warning lights aremisleading. The engine management light goeson and then off. The fuel warning light goes off.I am nearing Virginia Water traffic lights whenthe fuel warning light comes on and so does the

engine management light. Tick over at the lightsis lumpy and the engine is spitting back. Just upthe road on the right is a petrol station. I pullover and go in to fill up. It took 13.03 litres whichmeant there was still four litres of fuel left in thetank. I had recently had work done on the bike,and thought the warning light problems couldbe due to poorly reconnected connectors.I decided to call Warr’s (where I bought theBuell) to report the problem once home.

All is well until I was on the M25 and in theoutside lane when the engine management lightcame on and the engine cut out. It restartedalmost immediately. This is worse than beforeand I feel vulnerable. Once home (phew!)I phoned Warr’s at Mottingham and tell them

about the problem and the plan fortomorrow. We agree that if theproblem recurs I’ll carry straight onround the M25 to see them instead.I spent half an hour pushing all thevisible and accessible connectorstogether. Even the fuses in the fuse boxgot a look at. The engine fired up fine,but the tick over was still lumpier thanusual.

On the M25 towards the A3 junction thedecision was made. No Stow-on-the-Woldfor me today. I kept going and just toreaffirm my decision the engine hiccuppedagain as I passed the A3 slip road. Iexperienced a range between hiccups from



one every ten miles to a whole series of them asI passed the Clackett Lane services, and movedto the inside lane with the lorries. Cruising at 65mph was a little too fast for the traffic in thislane, but it was the smoothest for the engine.I still had twenty miles to go. There were anothertwo hiccups before the A21 slip road, then alittle blast for a few miles with nothing. I stop atthe junction for Mottingham traffic lights. Thetick-over is lumpy and the engine dies on me.Fortunately it fires up straight away and I get tothe Harley shop without further problems.

I presented theproblem to Seanand wediscusseddetails andpossiblediagnosis. Therewas only onemechanic todayand there waslimited time tospend on thebike. I said

Thursday is their latenight opening until 8:00 p.m. Plenty of time!The morning drifted on and Sean popped inevery now and again to report back on hisprogress. He was looking harassed because hewasn’t able to diagnose the problem. All theconnectors were fine and the earths were OK.Most of the morning is spent chatting with Alex,one of the sales guys. He blew up his Buell andhis repairs came with various tales of woe. Atleast there’s a free coffee machine. I drink a cupof tea about every hour.

It’s now lunchtime and little progress has beenmade. The bike alarm goes off again. It is nowbecoming as familiar, and ignored, as the soundof a church clock. Sean phones around for ideasand I see him go out for another test ride on myBuell. He thinks he has cured the problem, butat eleven miles it hiccups and he is back in theworkshop.

Apart from watching Sean go in and out of theshop on my Buell, I chat with the customers whocome in. One has a bright blue Low Rider that is

in for a service and we talk of thedelights of Full Dressers. It seemshe is a star speedway ace who wastaught his trade by Ivan Mauger,

and hesharessome stories with me. He relates how he spent aweek on a training course at the Belle Vue trackin Manchester. He was there with a friend andneither of them had money, so they slept at thecircuit in their transit van along with their bikes.On the second night Ivan knocked on their vandoor and asked why they were staying in the vanand not in a hotel. When he learned the reason,Ivan would not hear of them staying like this andtold them to come with him. "



This was Richard Baker - number 8 forWimbledon and then poached by Hackney.Hackney had sent him off to improve andbecome their number 7 rider. A promotion in theranks! After the course he came back to Londonand his first outing was at Wimbledon. When hearrived he was asked if he had turned up forwork and returned to his old team. He led themon for a bit until he peeled off his over-suit toreveal his new team’s colours and had toconfess he was riding for the other side.

In the speedway league, each team would havea home day during the week. That week it wasWimbledon on Thursday and Hackney on Friday -back to back rivalry. Winning races was new forthis man and former team mates congratulatedhim on his new found skills. He went on to beatmany of the top riders in the coming meetings.Ivan had taught him how to ride and instilled inhim a level of professionalism that included aclean outfit, a clean bike and clean hands!Richard recommended a visit to the SpeedwayMuseum at the Paradise Wildlife Park at

Broxbourne. I said I had a print of Ivan Maugerthat was published in some40 years ago and told him that I may donate itwhen I go there. Sean interrupted our heateddebate about forward controls and footboardsto announce that he was going to change theECU on the Buell.

It was 4:00 pm when Sean returned from his lastride out. To our joint relief, everything had beenfine. I was expecting a very big bill for all thiseffort, but was to be pleasantly surprised. Seanconsidered part of the problem was related tothe previous warranty work a few weeks ago,

and reduced the bill accordingly. Well doneSean!

When I was gearing up I noticed my LMM logoon the back of my hi-viz vest was lookingdecidedly creased. I had been sitting on it formost of the day and it had moulded itself to theshape of my bum. I straightened it out by sittingon it again to warm it up and then stretching outthe fabric of the vest until the creases had gone.Sean asked how I had managed during the day

with nothing apparent to do. I said that afterworking at the museum you get into a frameof mind that there is always something to do,either reading about a particular bike ortalking to someone about them. It all helped

to fill the day. Sean apologised for using all myfuel. I said I didn’t mind as the problem wasfixed and I still had had a day out on my bike.

It was a blissfully hiccup- free ride home in spiteof the heavy traffic and miles of filtering. Wellpleased, I phoned Sean to report back on theuneventfulness of the journey and congratulatedhim on the success of his efforts. Time to sitdown with a beer and reflect on the events ofthe day.



Me on a 125? Well, I was on the lovelyHindu Island of Bali wanting to do abike trip and the only motorbike I couldfind to hire was a Yamaha 125. The yearwas 1974 and I’d arrived on the south coast of Baliat Benoa close to the famous Kuta Beach havingsailed 800 milesfrom East Timor ona converted 80 ftSouth Seas Islandtrader. On the waywe’d snuck ashoreillegally onto theisland of Komodoand managed tosee a ‘dragon’further up thebeach. Fortunatelyit disappeared intothe jungle as soonas we ran towardsit. The ship’scaptain haddropped anchorone evening off theport of Kupang onthe south eastcorner of Timor,told the motleycrew that as wehadn’t been through Customs andImmigration we weren’t allowedashore, and disappeared in the ship’stender with the navigator and numbertwo, presumably to the local pub.

Not wanting to miss out on the fun, I andone other lowly ‘deck hand’ hailed alocal in a dugout canoe and followedthem ashore to a different pub. You’veprobably never heard of the town ofKupang unless you’ve read LieutenantWilliam Bligh’s account of the Mutiny on

the Bounty (ISBN 0 86299 005)! That’s where helanded after his epic 3000 mile journey in an

open boat. It hadn’t changed muchsince 1879 except the beer wasprobably colder.

The tourist industry in Bali in 1974was in it’s infancy with only onewestern style hotel on the wholeisland. Most of the roads across thecentre of the island were dirt tracksand most visitors stayed with thelocals who were delightful. After acouple of weeks lazing around in Kutaand eating funny mushroomomelettes at the Garden Restaurant,I decided it was time to see more ofthe island before moving onto Javaand the next part of my overlandjourney back to Germany. The largestcapacity bike I could find was aYamaha 125, so after



leaving most of my gear with the local familythat I was staying with, I set off suitably attiredin flip flops, jeans and a vest.

Memories of that journey are of sitting outside aHindu Temple early one evening and eatingpancakes cooked on an old primusstove watching the sun go down,riding across the lava fields ofMount Agung and the black sandbeaches of the north coast. Oneday I came across the local Wantilan, a largeopen roofed place where to my surprise localmen were arriving with chickens in basketsslung over their shoulders! These weren’t theusual chicken in abasket you get atyour local pub, thesewere fighting cocksand the Wantilanwas the arena wherecombat to the deathtook place - thelosing cock headingfor BBQ Satayheaven.

Westerners arehorrified at thethought of cockfighting, in spite of

the fact that it was once a very BritishAristocratic spectator sport. I suggest we getover it and think what Colonel Saunders doesevery day to a million chickens. I would arguethat these Balinese chickens are having fun.

With no bingo games or slot machines to wasteyour hard earned cash on, gambling on yourfavourite fighting cock is the only game in town.And unlike Bingo or slot machines, cock fightingis actually very exciting! The crowds jostle andshout and the overall feel is much like the bloodand guts of the Roman Arena, without thesacrifice of any Christians to the lions!

An important characteristic of the BalineseHindu religion is the making of offerings as ameans of communication between man and thegods. Higher deities are given offerings thatemphasize the beautiful and tasteful side of life;

Flowers,fruitsandleavesusually

placed in containers of young coconut leavesthat are cut to various degrees of intricacy. Youfind these offerings particularly at sunset. Theyare placed in elevated shrines all over the

island, because theBalinese believe thatthese deities havephysical as well asspiritual elevation.

In contrast, Batu Kala aredemons or malevolentsprits that live near or onthe ground and requireconsiderable amounts offood in the form ofofferings. The Balinesedon’t really considerthem as evil spirits asthey are just as capable



of helping and protecting their humanneighbours as they are in causing sickness,accidents or the loss a prized possession. Treatthem with respect and they can be dependedupon for protection. So the ceremonies directedtoward Batu Kala always require an animalsacrifice which may range from a small chickento a water buffalo (possibly an Americantourist?)dependingupon thesize andimportanceof theoccasion.And one ofthe most important requirements of theseofferings is a blood sacrifice that must bepoured upon the ground. What better way tomake such an offering than with a cock fightwith the losing cock contributing his blood tothe Batu Kala and all is well.

Before the fighting begins the cocks are lined upon the edge of the arena where handlers hiredby the owners prepare their charges. A skilfulhandler is of great importance. The winningchicken is the one that manages to stay on itsfeet, even if it is mortally wounded and dropsdead seconds later. A good handler has a largebag of tricksthat he uses torevive aseeminglylifeless cockand instilenough spirit inhim to return tothe fray. Heplucks,massages andruffles thefeathers, spitsrice wine downthe cock’sthroat or evenputs the cock'swhole head

inside his own mouth! Anything to help thewounded bird to get in just one more blow.Because one good stab is often all it takes toturn an apparent winner into a future ChickenSatay and feather duster.

The handlers or owners who want to match theircocks come into the arena to seek an opponent

and after much wanderingaround and talking, apotential opponent is found.The two handlers involvedsquat down facing each other.They hold onto their birdsallowing them to glare at eachother and perhaps get in a

peck or two. Ruffs flare and the cocks get veryexcited. Then the handlers exchange birds bysimultaneously handing the bird with the righthand and receiving the other with the left. Thusthe handlers get to test the strength and feel themuscles of the opponent’s bird.

For the fight, they will fix a blade or to thecocks’ legs. This calls for the skill of yet anotherspecialistand ofcoursebeingBalinese



We look forward to that one

Tony! - Ed

there is a lot of folklore surrounding the makingand sharpening of the taji. Some say that theymay only be sharpened at the dark of the moon,

that the blade must be forged with charcoalfrom a tree that has been struck by lightningand only be made when there is lightning

outside. No member of a family in whichthere has been a recent death must touchthe taji, and of course no menstruatingfemale may look at the blade.

They begin to place bets. I have no ideathe intricacies of how the odds areworked out but it involves lots ofshouting and waving of fists full ofRupees. Bets placed, all goes quiet forthe start. After all the noise andpreparation the actual fight is swift,brutal and very bloody.

It’s all over in a matter of seconds and I foundthe overall process a fascinating experience

being part of this sweating, noisy,gesticulating crowd of Balinese menand totally removed from the graceful,deferential, dignified people that, forme, symbolise the Balinese. And thechicken satay was really good.

I stayed about a month on the island beforemoving onto Java and my next bike trip was on a

Honda 90 from Phnom Pen along theMekong River. That really is anotherstory because six months later theKhmer Rouge overran that city.



After chatting to a couple of WVAM HarleyDavidson riders, and telling them a bit about myamazing trip to Sturgis USA, they encouragedme to put pen to paper about it for Intercom.

I had never been on a riding trip abroad on amotor bike, and had never even ridden a Harley

Davidson before going to the USA, so I was a bitof a virgin in many ways. Here I was on August3rd, at 8:00 am waiting at Heathrow with eightguys (six of whom were complete strangers) tofly out to Minneapolis USA. The group had ourfirst good laugh when we arrived - I was singledout by Immigration and interrogated by a BorderControl Officer. The questions were sensible atfirst, but then they became silly - do I wearcolours? Do I belong to any bike gangs? Myanswers? The only colours I have ever worn was

a Chelsea shirt many years ago to an FA Cupfinal. I belong to an advanced motorcycle club,called WVAM. Some may consider it a gang...This he didn’t mind, and he cleared me to enterthe USA. I joined the rest of my group who foundthe incident very funny, and we all boarded theconnecting flight to Rapid City. At about 9:00pm, we arrived at Rapid City Airport, and werecollected by a minibus from our Hotel, where westayed for the next five days. Rapid City is onlytwenty-five miles from Sturgis, and about asclose as you can get, without having to pay sillyroom rates.

Jet lag woke us up bright and early the nextmorning and my roommate and I went down andused the swimming pool and hot tub for an



hour. We then went shopping to the localWalmart (we found we would spend manyhours during the holiday at variousWalmarts across the USA) and then backto the hotel for breakfast. A guy fromOrlando Harley Davidson Florida came toour hotel in a mini bus to take us to a carpark where our bikes had been unloaded from alorry and made ready for us to collect. We

signed the paperwork and were each shown thebikes we would be using for the next thirteendays. I had booked a Road King and hadrequested a Chelsea Blue colour - but althoughit was black I was still well excited, and thenworried when I noticed it had only done twohundred miles and looked brand new (would Ibe able to keep it like that for the next sixteendays? God I hoped so...). I sat on the brute andwas shocked at how heavy it was. I managed

two minutes of machine familiarisation (notenough time I could hear Crispin saying to me)but the others were eager to go to a local bikeshow and had already shot off out of the carpark. Our convoy rode to Hill City, with all of uswearing big smiles, although mine was anervous one. Four Street Glides, one Road Kingand one Heritage Softail Classic. Three of ushad pillion passengers. At Hill City I boughtHarley Davidson vented gloves, two tee-shirts,one sweat shirt, and a nice casual shirt, all forless than $90 or £60. (£60 from a HarleyDavidson dealer; must come to the USA moreoften methinks). After the show we returned tothe hotel, had a quick lunch, and then back outto the bikes, after all it had already been an houraway from the saddle, and we all felt like wewere missing a new hot girlfriend (how sad arewe?). We decided to forgo the foreplay and

head straight to Sturgis.

Thirty minutes later, we were ridingdown Main Street looking forspaces to park. I could not believehow many Harleys there were inthis small area. It was like theBrighton burn-up but with treblethe number of bikes. Sturgis is alittle town similar in size toSurbiton, where every year thebiggest collection of HarleyDavidson riders and other bikersmeet. Every shop on Main Street isleased for the week to sell bikestuff. Over 250,000 bikers will visitthe Rally during the week. Thewhole town and the surroundingarea for at least a hundred miles istaken over by bikers, all coming toand from Sturgis for the Rally. Thebuzz is phenomenal.



I had bought andpaid for a pavingstone on-line to beinscribed as amemento of ourvisit. You can pre-order a brick, orpay more and get alarger granite paverlike I did from theCity of Sturgis RallyDepartment. Yougive them your owndesign and textbefore the deadlinein March, and theywill make and laythe brick paver forthe start of the rally in August. We parked thebikes and walked a few yards to the motorcyclemuseum to find our granite paver outside on themain pavement. The lads were really happy withthe paver and it’s nice to know our names willbe on the pavement for many years to come.Hopefully we will see it again on future rallies.The paver cost $500, but you can order a smallerbrick for about $150.We spent all afternoon and evening watchingthe rally.

Most of the really wacky bikes were in the mainstreet, but there were sights to see in just aboutevery street in Sturgis – not all of them bikesand some not for the faint hearted. There were

womenwalking thestreets innothing butbody paint,and ridingpillionwearingnothing butthongs. Wereluctantlyleft Sturgisafterwatchingthe police

arrest a biker who was drunk. He failedthe walk test - he had been asked towalk in a straight line in front of thepolice car. I never realised that the walktest was still how the American policedecide if you’re drunk. On the ride backto the hotel it seemed that every housewe passed was having a BBQ, with lotsof beer being drunk, so I had a feelingthe police were in for a busy night.

Sturgis is in South Dakota and thepeople there are really friendly and lovedour accents. We were frequently askedwhere in the world we came from and wealways asked them to guess. OneAmerican said he thought we wereGermans. I asked him if he spoke

German (since he could understand what wewere saying) and he replied -

– I reminded myself thatless than 15% of Americans have aninternational passport.

Monday, we rode out to Devil’s Tower, (the hillfrom the film Close Encounters of the Third Kind)and paid the $5 and rode up to the car park at



the base of the hill. We all did the tourist thingand walked around the hill, took photos of thehill and the wildlife, including some Prairie

dogs. I don’t know why theyare called Prairie dogs asthey look like rats. Afterlunch, we rode back toSturgis, and stopped en-route at a cafe by a verybusy road junction.

We were all sitting on oraround the bikes outsidethe cafe when we sawanother group of English

bikers riding past, they too had English andBritish flags on their bikes, crash helmets etclike us (there’s no legal requirement to wearhelmets in South Dakota and so most of theriders don’t bother) and although it was too latefor them to stop, they tooted and waved at us,as we were doing the same to them. Sadly, wenever saw this group of British bikers again,which isn’t surprising among a quarter of amillion bikers.

Tuesday, after breakfast it was decided wewould ride out to Keystone and on to MountRushmore, Needles Highway in Custer's Parkand Crazy Horse. Keystone is an old town, withthe main street running through the middle of

town and where two-years previously, some ofour party had spotted topless girls on thebalconies. Not so lucky this time, so we rode on

to Mount Rushmore, choosing my line on thebends which traversed up the hill to the park.On the way I passed a really big beautifulcustom Harley which was coming down the hillfrom the other direction.The guy had a woman on the back of the Harleyand while I was watching them they drove into alay-by and the bike slid over, with both of themcoming off. I’m guessing that he didn’t realise itwas gravel, or wasn’t used to the weight, orsomething.

At Mount Rushmore we paid the $5 to go up tothe main car park and see the carvings, thendrove onto Custer's Park, where we all removedour crash helmets, as it is a gentle ride in thepark and because of so many riders, we couldonly ride at a slow speed. We stopped for lunchin the park and got chatting to a nice guy whosestepfather is Michael Shankley, the propertydeveloper, who lives in Windsor. I had workedfor the Shankley family and then realised I hadfitted this man’s sister’s carpets... small world,eh?



We left the park after putting our helmets backon and went to see Crazy Horse Hill. Crazy Horseis an enormous monument being carved into theside of a mountain, like Mount Rushmore, tohonour the Native Americans. It cost $5 toenter, (funny how all the parks cost $5) and we

had a look around the museum. The sculptureon the hill will take many years tocomplete as they have run out ofmoney and so far only the outline ofhis head is carved into the mountain,and the Indians are making moneyfrom that to go towards completingthe sculpture. I wanted to go back toKeystone and look for the toplessgirls, but the lads insisted we rideback to Sturgis.

On Wednesday morning, six of thegroup rode back to Sturgis, but as itwas our last day in South Dakota Iwent with two others to the BadlandsNational Park. We rode through aghost town, where there was a saloon with asign dated 1905 which read, “Indians Allowed”.We then travelled along a boring straight roadwith nothing in sight for nearly two hours beforearriving at the Badlands National Park. It hasmountains where millions of years of wind,water and erosion have created the chiseledspires, deep canyons and jagged buttes to give

it a moon-like landscape and was well worththe long ride and sore bum to see it.

Thursday, 7:00 am we were all packed up andready for start of the road trip. We set off on ourten states ride down to Orlando Florida. Darrenhad a sat-nav, so we all followed him. Afterabout three hours riding we had left SouthDakota and all the mountains and were nowriding really flat roads in Wyoming.

Darren decided that as we were on a straightroad, and did not need to change roads for fiftymiles, he would slow down and hold backbehind us to chill out. After noticing that we hadall disappeared out of sight, he sped up to 95mph to catch us up. Unfortunately for him astate police car came past us and saw himspeeding behind us. The police car did ahandbrake turn and within seconds had caught

up with Darrenand pulledhim over.

Thepoliceman,afterinspectingvarious bits ofDarren’spaperwork,gave him a$140 fine. Wehad seen thecop pullDarren over

and waited for him to catch up. Darren’s bikehad a camera mounted on the front, so we allhad a laugh when he showed us footage of himgetting the ticket, but we did all chip in with thespeeding fine. The cop must have been a niceone, as he gave Darren time to pay the fine,which is apparently rare.



We stopped for lunch and had pancakes the sizeof large plates, no wonder the yanks are so fat.We chose not to refuel at the petrol stationthere, and to ride on - big mistake, as there wereno more petrol stations for miles. By the time wehad reached one I was down to my last fivemiles on the reserve and so were most of theothers - we only just made it. Two of the group

had already run out of petrol but luckily for theman engineer, who was maintaining the oildrilling wells, helped them out by giving themenough fuel to make it to the petrol station. Henever wanted any cash ...how lovely theAmericans are ... well most of them. Not a greatstart to the first day on the road, but I still Iloved every exciting minute of it. We arrived atour hotel in Colorado Springs late afternoon,having done just over five hundred miles.

On Friday we were booked in for an adventureday with Raft Masters. We had booked quadbiking in the morning and white water rafting inthe afternoon. The quad biking was fun - theinstructor had his hands full with us - beingtypical bike nuts we were doing figure-of-eightsand fish-tailing. The quad bikes were the realthing – very fast and with four-wheel drive – wewere all very dirty with the dust by the end of thesession. Knowing how dirty quad biking wouldbe I had brought throw-away clothes and justput my clothes into the bin.

After a lovelylunch (included inthe price) we weretaken in a mini-bus to the whitewater centre, where after being kitted out in wetsuits, life jacket, helmets and shoes, we weretaken to the starting point on the ArkansasRiver. We were split up into two groups, put into

two boats and paddled down the world famousRoyal Gorge. I had never heard of it before but Iwon’t forget it after swallowing half of it. Johnwas in the other boat and did end up in thewater when his boat hits some rocks, which ofcourse made the day even funnier. It wasanother great day and all for $160...£100 ish.

Once we were back on the Harleys we were allso knackered that we were falling asleep riding,so we decided to just stay at a hotel in Pueblo,having only done thirty-five miles.

Saturday was an early start, as we had to doover six hundred miles, via Dodge City, (myrequest, as the others have been to Dodge Citybefore in a previous trip but I wanted to see ittoo) to Overland in Kansas City. We arrived inKansas City at 10:00 pm, and spent a couple ofhours looking at Jim’s car. Jim is the guy whoorganised our trip, and has been to Sturgis six

times now. He has anAmerican guy building his32 Ford Coupe from scratch.It’s the car from the film

and hasthe signature of Paul Le Mat

across the dashboard. Paul was the actor whodrove a 32 Ford Coupe in the film. The car isbeing built by an ex-Navy SEAL, whose housewas full of guns which we all posed with.



Sunday we left Kansas City and travelledthrough Missouri down to Clarksville inArkansas.

That night three of us went to the local socialclub and paid, yes you guessed it, $5 each for anight’s membership and spent the nightwatching the local girls line dancing. First of allthey were doing country and western and thenthe music changed to bump and grind... Usthree lads were off our seats watching that! Tosee so many women doing that sexy dancereally made our evening and we got a lot ofattention from the locals who loved the Englishaccents.

On Monday our set off was planned for 6:00 amand the three party boys were not quite feelingup for it for some reason and so the set off wasdelayed. Darren had demanded an early start,as it was six hundred miles to New Orleans and

he was not happy with us. We quickly downedlots of coffee and we were ready for off after justa half an hour delay – not bad after a 2:00 amfinish the night before.

Six hundred miles here we come, hangover orno hangover. By 8.30 pm we arrive in NewOrleans central, having ridden across theMississippi river at Vicksburg. The whole areaaround New Orleans is full of long runningbridges over the various wetlands.

We sent off three volunteers to three differenthotels and two came back saying theirs werefull, so we decided that as it was late we wouldstay in the third, which was the Sheraton. It’sone of the tallest in New Orleans, and as wewere all on the 34th floor, we had a great view

from the floor to ceiling windows in ourrooms. We showered and changed before wetook a walk down Bourbon Street and theBlues bars to listen to the locals jazz andblues bands.

Tuesday was our first lay-in - we got up 10:00am, and me and my roommate had a leisurelyand full breakfast in a local cafe run by tworeally funny gay guys. We set off throughMississippi and Alabama along the coastroads, crossing all those wonderful long andhigh bridges along the coast and found ahotel just inside Florida at Pensacola.

My roommate and I spent half the eveningrepairing a hole in the wall in my room, after Iaccidentally put my foot through it (don’task!). I had to unscrew the door lock so that Icould use the screws, along with superglue

and toothpaste.

We took the bikes back to Orlando HarleyDavidson at 12:00 noon on Friday. I was so sad



to see that bike go, as I knew it meant the end ofa great holiday. I did over 3,400 miles on thebike in thirteen days and have to say I lovedriding that Harley, and enjoyed being one of thethousands of Harley Davidson riders that did theSturgis thing. I will be doing it again.

I was a little nervous when I booked thisholiday, but can now say it was the bestholiday I’ve ever had. I had a great timewith eight interesting blokes, who I like tothink are now all mates, and saw somewonderful places with the help of a BlackHarley Davidson. I now understand a lotmore about the USA and its way of life( .

I feel I left my mark there - the granitepaver in Sturgis Main Street - not the holein that hotel wall!



I am a recent convert to using auto trains tocover long distances, getting you and your biketo somewhere interesting and beautiful to ride.The first time we even considered it was whenwe were planning a trip to Croatia. The plan wasto ride through Europe in a small group to partyin Biograd at the European HOG rally. Therewere some highlights we were very keen toinclude - some of the mountain roads inTuscany, the gorgeous city of Florence, and astunningly beautiful vineyard run by the familyof an acquaintance, and we had limited time toget down there and return.

We reviewed a number of possibilities andfinally booked the Deutsche-Bahn Autozug trainfrom Dusseldorf to Alessandria, (returning fromSchwarzach-St. Veit near Salzburg toDusseldorf). The bookings were handled withtypical German efficiency, including the to-ingand fro-ing that inevitably accompanies bookingfor a group. One of our small company had hisbike stolen when he parked it at the O2 just acouple of weeks before we were to leave, and hehad to cancel; also a couple ofpeople procrastinated(mentioning no names, Gavin)about whether or not to use thetrain coming back. Deutsche-Bahnwere responsive and supportivewith refunds and last minutechanges, and very helpful in figuring outschedules etc. The trains run to and fromdiffering locations on certain days, whichimpacted some of our route decisions, but itseems they are very accustomed to being usedby bikers and were able to assist us in planninggood roads as well as logistics.

Dusseldorf is a four hour ride from the channeltunnel, if you use motorways, but we opted notto, and took some nice roads through Belgiumand Germany, arriving at Dusseldorf station inthe afternoon of our second day. Gavin’s TomTom took us right to the on ramp for the train,and we unpacked the bikes of all loose bags andwatched anxiously as they secured the bikes forthe journey. We had heard some horror stories

aboutscreensbeing tornoff when thecoach ispulledbackwards

by the train. We checked that this would nothappen, and opted to leave our screens on. Weleft all of the keys locked inside one bike’s topbox, to make sure the immobilisers didn’t go offduring the journey, and headed for our sleepers.There are a range of cost options; the cheapestbeing sharing couchettes between fiveindividuals, and the most expensive being super



luxury doubles with a shower option. We weresix people and had decided to book twocouchettes between us. It would have been a bitcheaper to book one couchette and oneindividual place in a shared couchette but as itturned out, the two couchettes were a wise

choice – three people in one couchette with bikegear was a squeeze – especially as Gavin hasnever allowed being on a bike trip to stop himfrom travelling like a supermodel ...

In our excitement, we dumped the bagsin our couchette and set of to explore the train.This turned out to be a second lucky break, aswe discovered the bar – a small coach with hugepicture windows, already occupied by threelarge blonde Dutch BMW riders, who advised usto claim some territory before the Porschedrivers (there was a Porsche rally happening inSouthern Italy, and there were lots of vintagePorches on the train with our bikes) arrived and

began to drink champagne. We took theiradvice, plonked ourselves down and orderedour first beers. The party started early thatevening. One of the Dutch bikers was calledKees (pronounced ) and we went into afrenzy of witty (or so we thought) puns, bringingphrases like , andinto our conversation as often as possible. Wethought we were being hilarious, and heseemed to enjoy himself too, but perhaps hewas just enjoying the sight of bikers fallingaround on the floor every five minutes. Eitherway we had a ball - even had fun with thePorsche drivers when they did show up.

Another bonus was that the train followed theRhine for the first couple of hours, and we got toenjoy some stunning scenery through those bigpicture windows. I think it would feel moreclaustrophobic if one spent the whole journey inthe couchette. Not being a big drinker, andhaving had a couple of beers because of theparty atmosphere, I crashed and burned veryearly! By 9:00 pm I realised that I would be unfitto ride tomorrow if I carried on and set off for thecouchette.

The sight of someone’s hazard lights flashingaway in the night at the tail of the train, visiblewhen we went around bends, gave me ananxious moment, but the beer helped me to



decide that worryingwas a waste of my imagination, and I focused onmaking beds (nice clean cotton sheets – thesedetails matter to me!) and climbing into a topcouchette, where I felt very private. I wassharing with Gavin and his brother, as the onlygirl on the trip, but actually I think I would havefelt ok even with strangers, as anyone in the topcouchette is invisible to others in the carriage.

Everyone said they slept well, rocked by themotion of the train and the beer helped themnot to hear each other snoring. We were broughta light breakfast by the guard, and arrived inAlessandria first thing the next morning. We didneed to bump start one of the bikes uponarrival, but all agreed afterwards that it was afabulous start to a fabulous trip.

The return journey was just as smooth, andefficient enough to get us back to London fromBiograd in two days, using the train andmotorways. We left Biograd early on a Mondaymorning, rode on fast roads and emptymotorways through Croatia, Slovenia andAustria (stunning scenery) and arrived inSchwarzach-St. Veit in time for the earlyafternoon train, which took us to Dusseldorfovernight and allowed us to reach home on theTuesday. We wouldn’t hesitate to use DeutscheBahn again and may use it this year to facilitatea quick dash to Faaker See...

The second experience was similarly successful.During the summer of 2012, we took a 4000 mile

trip in the USA, starting from Florida in theSouth East to Colorado in the North West. InFlorida, we heard about a beautiful road calledthe Blue Ridge Parkway – a five hundred milestretch of road running across the top of theBlue Ridge Mountains - and became keen toinclude it in our trip. The problem was that itruns South West to North East, almost bisectingour planned route, and would add over athousand miles to our journey.

Then we discovered the Amtrak Auto Train – theonly auto train in the whole of the USA, andwhich runs a thousand miles from Sanford in

Florida north to Lorton, Virginia, just a few milesfrom the start of Skyline Drive, which runs intothe Blue Ridge Parkway. With such alignment ofthe planets, it seemed rude not to takeadvantage of the chance to include this road inour journey, so we booked up and set off forSanford.

Again, the train runs overnight, so you check inlate in the afternoon and wake up in Lorton,Virginia the next morning. Lots of people use itto commute between holiday homes in Floridaand work in New York, minimising the driving for



them. Like the Germans, they were extremelywell set up to secure our huge rented cruisingbikes for the trip (Gavin was on the HarleyElectra Glide Classic and I was riding a Softail

Heritage), and the sleepers were much moreluxurious and affordable (in sterling, anyway)than in Europe. We had a small bedroom toourselves, with a double bed that folded out,and a tiny ferry-like shower room and loo.

The party was much more staid (we gotreminded that the wine tasting thatevening was supposed to be a winetasting only when we asked forseconds) but dinner in the dining carwas included in the ticket price andour dinner companions, beingAmericans, were very friendly andchatty, so the evening passedpleasantly. The magical part for mewas the journey through the night.The trains in the US go much moreslowly than ours and are very, verylong. So you can look out of thewindow and see the whole trainwinding in front and behind of you formiles. The slow movement was very

restful for sleeping, and I would occasionallywake up in the night to hear the very faint whoowhoo sound from the engine far aheadapproaching a crossing or town. It was justlovely - the journey had a whole 1920's romanticfeel to it.

+49 1805 24 12 24 asthey’re very helpful.

1-800-USA-RAIL. One way journey includesdouble sleeper, all meals, linens, two adults andtwo motorbikes for about $500.



–

We set off on Sunday 18th March 2012 and rodeen masse to the first border. This first day’s ridewas a modest 270 km, taking us east, across theAndes and down into the Argentinean town ofSan Carlos de Bariloche, up over the Andes onsome lovely curvy roads, superb surface, notraffic except an occasional slow lorry, whichwas easy to overtake even on a bend!

The scenery was spectacular with lush verdantpastures grazed by cattle and a few sheep, andwooden houses dotted about. It was fairly flat tostart withbut thenthe foothillsof theAndesstarted andwith it thelovelytwisties! The road went along the edge of two orthree clear blue/green lakes reminiscent ofSwitzerland. The Andes vegetation varied fromthick jungle-like thick greenery with bamboo

and tall deciduous trees to dry flat plateau, a bitlike Tibet or an American cowboy movie.

Near the top it looked at first glance as if thesnow had mixed with pale grey sugar! In fact itwas pumice which settled last year, killing trees,filling lakes and rivers and smothering theundergrowth. In fact the whole region, including

the airport atBariloche 100 kmaway, had been closedfor ten months afterthe eruption in 2011.Put another way, our

journey would havebeen impossible theprevious year.

The border crossingprocedure iscomplicated,involving numerous

bits of paper to be stamped, some appertainingto the traveller and some to the vehicle and ofcourse just waiting to be lost. Collecting someflimsy slip at the first sentry post on the bike



with gloves on takes time, then where to put itfor easy retrieval. If you can’t find it then you

won’t be allowed out. At boththe Chile and Argentinacrossings the person and bikehave to be clocked in/outseparately so the whole thingrequires patience. Altogetherthere would be six bordercrossings during the trip.

Once through the border intoArgentina we had our firsttaste of gravel but in glorioussunshine in the mountainsalongside Lake Nahuel Huapi.This is always a trickycombination as many of youwill know; concentrate on theroad ahead too much and youmiss the stunning scenery; spend too longadmiring the view and you are in danger ofbeing an integral part of it.

In Bariloche we were steered towardscertain restaurants by Kevin who likes hismeat! The steaks were very tender, rubbedin salt and grilled on a huge rack. The othermain choice is lamb which was alsodelicious. But you always have to order the'Papas frites' or mash separately.

–

The next day’s journey from Bariloche to Esquelcan be done entirely on paved road, but therewas an option of a much longer route on gravelwithin the mountains and beside lakes, so weopted for that.

From Esquel we rode for only 60 km beforecrossing back into Chile to join the famousCarretera Austral. Whilst the map showed thissection to the border as a dirt road, it was a wellengineered asphalt road amid glorious scenery,which may have explained how Hamish misseda bend in the road and met the Armco on theother side. Being a VERY big chap he no doubtlanded heavily and his collar bone bore thebrunt. When we came along shortly afterwards

there was abarelybelievablescene as hisbike wasbalanced veryneatly andperfectlyupright, butupside downand resting onthe top edgeof his screen.



The gradient varied from nil to precipitous andthe width from four lanes to single. The camber

also changed from nil to inverted half circle. Itwas a long tiring day and a steep learning curve!Kevin described this as 'a technical ride';ominous! It started off easily enough out of town(actually a small collection of wood houses withshingle walls) on tarmac leading to a wideflattish gravelly road along the side of the seainlet. Gradually ascending the road narrowedand the 'technicality' began. The bendstightened requiring 2nd then 1st gear.Of course on the sharpest hairpins the roadsurface was appalling and seemed designed tothrow one off or stall the engine.Going downhill was Teresa’s worry beforehand,especially as the van driver (himself amotorcyclist) warned of a particularly tight,

steep, right hand bend, so her solution was tokeep repeating the mantra 'look at the roadahead' i.e. not down at the pothole just in front!

We put it back on its wheels and the bike washardly scratched but as John rode it round to thesupport van, he noticed it had been in5th gear – which suggested Hamishwas going a tad too quick for thedownhill S bend. His riding holiday wasover, so we lifted his bike, one wheel ata time, onto the very high tailgate of the

van and there it stayed for several days until wegot to the next town with an airport. Whilst he’dhad only two days riding on the trip proper, hehad in fact come out nearly two weeks early andridden north into the Atacama Desert on hisown so his trip was not entirely wasted.

Virtually the whole day was on dirt/gravel andconsequently all bikes, clothing and helmetswere powdered with beige dust and Teresa’snew enduro boots lost their clean shine! Theroute we took, the Carretera Austral, was onlyopened in the 80's to connect the settlementsin this part of Chile which previously relied onboats. There is no tarmac as yet. Sometimesthere is hard dirt but most of the time it'sgravel. Large stones, small stones, scatteredstones, bunched stones interspersed withridges and potholes!



The hallmark of a real off-road rider of course isstanding up on the foot pegs. At first this feelsanything but safe but confidence grows withperseverance. The previous day shecould stand when the road was flat andnot too rough but the following day shefelt more in control standing than sitting(except on the very tightest curves).However, changing gear whilst standingwould have to wait for another day!By the time we arrived at the small town ofPuyuhuapi, John had been standing on the pegsfor about 250 km. You don’t necessarily have tobe aerobically fit, but you most certainly have tobe bike fit i.e. have stamina, especially withplenty more days of gravel roads. Whilst you canride on the rough stuff seated, as many of youwill know, you get a much better view standingup, as well as a more comfortable ride with thenicely balanced bike bouncing beneath. But itdoes require adjustment of the bars as high aspossible and that the controls are rotated to suitthe fact that your arms are semi vertical ratherthan semi horizontal. For the two of the bikescarrying pillions however, the rider generallystayed seated otherwise the pillion would havehad a much degraded view of the countryside!

Puyuhuapi was founded in 1935 by four Germansettlers when Chile was trying to populate thecountry. We stayed in a small hotel run by astern German Frau which consisted of two of theoriginal wooden houses, one of which we sleptin. For supper we walked to a newer woodenhouse; a family home complete with twochildren doing their homework. Kev had earlier

negotiated food for us all at 8:00 pm; a squaresamosa-like parcel with melted cheese insideand tomato and onion salsa, followed by themost delicious salmon on a bed of mashedpotato. The few 'restaurants' and shops arefound in the front room of ordinary homes.

-

The journey from Puyuhuapi to Coyhaique wasscheduled to be a short day, only 215 kmincluding either 55 km or 105 km of gravel,depending on which route we took. The day,however, turned out to be much longer in timethan we bargained for. After a brief coffee stopat one of Kev’s favourite cafes 85 km along thegravel road, we found the road partially blockedby trees in several places then later, on theoutskirts of a small town, totally impassable.The road had been deliberately blocked by along term fuel price protest group. Even usingthe excuse to get our injured rider to a hospitalcarried no weight with this group of radicals sowe had no alternative but to sit there for four tofive hours until they let us through at 4:00 pm.All very silly really as the protest hits the localeconomy pretty hard; tourists cannot visit thetown, the garages were not selling any fuel andthe hotels andcafes were notdoing any trade. Idoubt very muchif it had anyeffect on theGovernmenteither. So we gotto Coyhaique lateand afterwards itwas impossibleto even recallwhat the hotellooked like orhow we found itin the dark. But itwas there thatwe left Hamish tofly back toSantiago andhome.



The next morning we left early with Kev andfollowed him at a cracking pace on a goodconcrete surface. As the road wound its wayever upwards, a combination of the speed andthe altitude made for a chilly ride and manytimes we contemplated stopping to put morelayers on. But it was such a good ride that wecarried on, shivering, until Kev stopped at afantastic viewing spot where the road carried ondown through a dozen hairpins. We had indeedbeen quite high.

As we dropped down into the valley infront of us, we stopped for a first coffeeat a café made out of an old bus with themost fabulous backdrop of the CerroCastillo mountains.

Just down the road from the bus café thepaved road reverted to gravel and wewere back on the Carretera Austral, builtby Pinochet and opened to the publiconly in 1988, when it linkedcommunities along the far south westernedge of Chile.

The next stop for fuel and coffee wasa daunting 120 km away and on thissection one of the special hazards onthe single track road was the verysteeply cambered edges. But theroadside scenery was astonishing:



Towards the end of our day as we approachedLake General Carrera (you might be tempted to

think that Chile once had a militaryGovernment!) there was a really imaginativesign with the following - “Our rivers are muchmore than electric power - Patagonia withoutdams”, possibly describing the intention for theconservation of the region or protesting againstdams.

But the best bit was the last, the wonderfullakeside wooden cabin hotel for special people

onlyJ.

The first priority was, naturally, a drink or two torinse the dust from the throat, but afterwards aswim in the freezing cold lake:

followed by the lakeside hot tub:

Truly a unique and wonderful place.



At last it seems that Spring has finallysprung after the long cold, freezing and wetWinter and I’m seeing more riders out ontheir bikes as if coming out of hibernation.Let’s hope the Summer is both warm andlongJ.

Winter however, has not stopped the TrainingTeam working to improve the overall standardof the training for our Observers and coachingfor our Associates. In April we delivered thefirst “Machine Handling” course of the year.Attendees were a mixture of Associates andObservers and the feedback from this coursecontinues to be very positive. The aim of thisday-long training is broad and includes anunderstanding of the physics of motorcycles sothat the rider can deliberately let the bike dowhat it does best. The training is mostly on thebike putting the theory into practice and offers aseries of exercises that can be worked on everytime a rider is on the bike. More MachineHandling courses are planned and in thecalendar.

Also in April we have delivered the first of aseries of “Theory Training” aimed primarily atAssociates. The purpose of this training is tobring the theory behind Advanced Riding to lifeusing a combination of presentation, video anddiscussion. The main areas covered are all

aspects of the‘System’ which

involvesInformation(includingobservationandrecognisinghazards);

Positioning;Speed; Gears and

Acceleration. Making ‘riding plans’ are alsocovered and we look at attitude to riding and ofcourse we include ‘overtaking’. Attendance isalways good and the sessions inevitably involvetwo way discussions and result in a great basicgrounding of the principles of Advanced Ridingfor all attendees.

We aim to make the club a fun, enjoyableexperience for Associates as we help them tobecome ‘thinking riders’ and improve to thelevel they aspire to achieve. We can only do thisif the Observers have the necessary skills tohelp the Associates enjoy the experience ofbeing coached. So training and developingthese skills in an Observer is a priority for theTraining Team and as part of the on-goingtraining for Observers we have completedanother Coaching and Feedback course.

We are constantly looking at ways to improvethe support and training we offer our Observers.We appreciate that they volunteer their timemonth in and month out, and want to make the



experience enjoyable for them too. The type oftraining we provide is designed to ensure theObservers find out what each Associate wantsfrom their observed ride and what their overallobjectives are (such as to pass their test, to besafer, to feel more in control or to pass with a“F1RST”).

The Observer should then plan the ride to meetthese needs. Associates can only improvetowards their riding goals and an Observershould help make them aware of how close theyare to achieving them. This requires theObserver to give them feedback and this needsto be done in a constructive way to engage theAssociate – help them ‘think’ – “how could theyhave done it better?”, and establish options ofhow they can improve.

Observers should be skilled enough to get thebalance right and leave Associates clear on howwell they are doing against their goals andmotivated to get better. We are committed tosupporting Observers to continuously improvethese skills.

That’s it from me fornow. Go out there,ride safe andhave loads offun.

Rosario

46 Stafford Road, Wallington SM6 9AY0208 773 1761 / 0845 223 2433

www.argentumfp.com [email protected]

Argentum Financial Planning Ltd provides a modern, pro-active service for our clients.

Our aim is to help you form and achieve your financial objectives in the short and long term.We are run by a team of four qualified advisers, who each have over 25 years’ experience infinancial services, and are backed by a knowledgeable support team.

We offer Independent Financial Advice in all areas, for individuals and businesses.

We can help you with investments, pensions and retirement planning, family and incomeprotection and general financial planning.

Please contact us to arrange an initial consultation. We will meet the cost of this and it willbe without obligation.



Chairman Neil WatsonVice Chairman Jeremy SiggerSecretary Philip JonesTreasurer Stuart RobertsonChief Observer Rosario HenshallMembership Mick PartridgeCommunications John BraddickOn-Bike Social Events Graham NewtonOff-Bike Social Secretary Steve McCormickRecruitment Tony KeeganCommittee Member Simon Elkins

Club President Rex HawkesClub Vice President Mike Davidson

CLUB ANNOUNCEMENT The club always welcomesconstructive feedback about all aspects of WVAMactivities. Please don't forget that everyone who helpsout the club - right from the canteen through to theobservers - does so voluntarily; willingly giving up theirtime on your behalf. So, as well as letting us know whatyou think, we will always welcome more help; go onplease, don’t be shy, you know you want to!

Readers should note that except for articles written by theChief Observer or the Training Team, all articles about riding motorcycles andopinions expressed in this magazine are those of the author and do not necessarilyrepresent the club (Wey valley Advanced Motorcyclists), IAM or WVAM TrainingTeam policy or recommendation.All other articles are also the personal opinion and responsibility of the author onlyand not those of WVAM or the Editors.

For contact and further details please visit the WVAM website - (home page > contact us > club officials).

WVAM Committee Members 2013

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the magazine for wey valley advanced motorcyclists 45 spring 2013 - web.pdfintercom spring 2013 2...

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