A Ride

After last night’s confession about not much exercise, today at work I formulated a plan to take the mountainbike out for an evening spin.

Then changed my mind and decided I wasn’t making best use of the summer, wasn’t too tired so perhaps the motorbike should have an outing. And that’s how I ended up here.

I think i’ve mentioned Soichiro Honda on here before – great bloke, fantastic visionary, good educational attitude but developed a soul-less corporation of adequacy in vehicles. The people who buy his bikes are much the same, it seems. Well, excepting those who own an RC30, of course. That bike makes exceptions to laws, we all know that. Suzuki make poorly finished, reasonably desireable bikes with a 2 year shelf life and riders who’d like to but really can’t quite. Except GSX R750’s and their riders who know a decent package, normally know how to ride and can thus be excused for erring on the side of blueness. I can’t understand Kawasaki or their riders – all so dated after about 2 weeks, ugly, predominantly green and somehow lull their owners into all sorts of colour matched leathery nastyness. Except…nope, i’m struggling – even Z1 owners are odd. Ducati? Let’s leave it there. Triumph? Not yet. Harley? Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Ah, Yamaha. Every correct thinking man’s steed of choice. Well, mine for now, anyway. So this evening, the R6 at the top of the page got fired into life. I was feeling a touch tired, but not so bad I couldn’t go for an easy bimble, did the first 8 miles or so at an easy pace, slowly around the corners as I wasn’t really feeling it, gently on the straight bits and generally just rolling corner to corner. Then got to the main road junction and a CBR600F eased past, race can loudly to the fore but generally looking sterile as you like. So I pulled out behind him, only for his blue mate on his SV1000S to come alongside, albeit in the next 40 limit, exhaust booming in a typical “me! me! me!” style of annoyance.

Loud pipes are fun, I admit (mine’s not quiet, after all), but living on a main road, their appeal is diminishing and my theory has always been for people who race through villages and towns to be shit on proper roads. Well, Mr SV then came past, then carried on accelerating, all the way through the subsequent 30 limit and beyond, his soul-less mate following along. I was going to turn off, but this act annoyed me so I thought i’d put my village theory to the test and give chase, so after the 30 limit, that’s what I did.

And, true to form, 1.5 miles , about 12 bends and 4 cars later, they were holding me up.

Absolute frustration. I wasn’t on top form, they were just slow idiots with loud pipes living up to  stereotype. I was annoyed and their actions in the next town did nothing to change that. Thankfully I took a different route to them next and had a fun blat home, albeit going past a bloke on a Kawasaki outside Sissinghurst fast enough to wonder what was up and feeling guilty in the process, but it was all fun.

And I can now carry on with my slow rider theory, continue to feel quick on a bike despite really definitely not being so any more, state Honda and Suzuki riders are knobs and look forward to the weekend with the best distraction from wanting to do all that is dear to me in the world ever.

209 cars. And if I can stop singing the Button Moon tune and not think of the third sheep from the left, i’ll be onto a winner!