Epic Whine - Snow on a motorbike


This was written in MArch 2004. Naturally, I couldn't put it on my blog then, as I didn't have one. I have one now, so it's going on!

Besides that, nothing much has happened today. A lorry did blatently pull out on me, but I saw it coming, so I had already slowed down, and it wasn't really close. Although I did give him the priviledge of hearing my horn, to which he just waved at me.

Yesterday I went to see someone. In North Devon. Strangely enough, I had to go into Cornwall first to get there. This is the story of my eventful trip. You thought Frodo had a tough journey? Think again.

I had a good time yesterday, except for the journey, which physically knackered me, and almost killed me. Well, the last part was a bit of an exaggeration, but if I hadn't been careful, I could've been deaded. The quickest route to North Devon was via Launceston (hometown of something called Foss). The way there was fine, but on the way back, it snowed. A lot. It was fine until I got past Launceston, it was raining, but the roads were clear, and I made good speed following Jonathan's fast 'pace car'.

By the time I got to Launceston, I was soaked to the skin, freezing cold, riding back along winding, twisty roads, with a gale force wind, and very heavy snow. I'm not lying when I say it was like a blizzard. I couldn't see anything through my visor, cos the snow was sticking to it, and then when cars came the opposite direction the light refracted off the water on the visor, and I couldn't see anything at all. However, if I opened my visor, I couldn't keep my eyes open, cos snow is sharp, and 30mph snow piercing your eyeballs isn't pleasant. With my headlights on full beam, all I could see was snow coming towards me, but with them dipped, I could see no further than 10 metres in front of me, and couldn't see corners or hedges very well.

This was pretty bad, but at least the road was ok. This changed about 4 miles from Launceston. Somebody must have told everyone in Cornwall not to go to Plymouth, as I saw loads of people on their way back, I didn't see anyone travelling the same direction as me. Not one car. The snow was properly settling on the roads by now, and it was heavy enough for me to not be able to see any road markings. In fact, I was driving in the foot wide trenches made by car tyres, except there was no longer road visible throught the trenches, just different heights of slush. The slush was probably about an inch thick in the trenches, and as much as 3 or 4 inches in between the trenches.

All this combined made the journey slow. How I didn't fall off is beyond me. Imagine riding speedway, blindfolded, on a bike without studded tyres, through a waterfall, in alaska, for what seemed like an eternity. This is what my journey was like. I had a couple close calls where the back end of the bike was sliding round corners, and snaking on the straights. I barely left first gear all the way back from Launceston. It must have taken me over an hour to get back, as I couldn't do more than 30 for most of the way.

I almost stopped at one point, in the middle of nowhere, as I was beginning to think I wouldn't be able to go any further, and I considered calling somebody, anybody, but realised that that would've been pointless. I almost stopped at a random hotel I passed, as I was gonna stay the night there, but decided to press on. How I didn't fall off is beyond me - I really should have.

It took about an hour and a half to get back, and about the same again to warm up once I'd got home. My leather boots stilla aren't dry, and neither is my jacket. And I feel physically exhausted!

Oh, and I deserve a medal for not falling off.

However the evening was nice, apart from the journey. :D
- posted by Ryaninja @ 2:27 pm 1 comments

 
When it rains, everyone drives like retards.

It rained today. Hard. Like the Earth was dying of dehydration, and only the sky could help. I was out on my motorbike going to get fed by my folks, and riding along I noticed a couple of cars and a people carrier ahead pull into my lane, the outside one. 'Ideal', I thought, 'I'll take that gap, thank you', and slipped into the inside lane, and accelerated to about 70mph (I was doing about 50mph). I pulled level with the people carrier. This is when I saw the 'puddle'. It was about the length of a train carriage, and as wide as one of the lanes. It was also about a foot deep. Really, 'puddle' is an unsuitable word. 'Pond' or even 'lake' would have fitted better.

"Uh-oh" thought I, as I relaxed myself, ready for the bike to hit the water. The bike nosedived slightly what with the front wheel now having to cut through water instead of air, and I soaked up the bumps with my nicely relaxed attitude to giant puddles of water. The water went up over my handlebars (my boots were submerged to about the ankle), and sprayed up like a storm wave hitting a sea wall all over the people carrier that had changed lanes to avoid it.

Needless to say, I think he was more suprised than I was.

Having both me and my bike survived that, my bike thought that it was in neutral for the next couple of miles, even though it wasn't. The water must have finished seeping out from various orifices in the bike, cos the light went off after about 5 minutes.

Then having overtaken some twat in a Subaru Impreza he found it fit to tailgate about a foot behind me. I slowed right down to about 30mph (in a 40), turned round, and motioned for him to back off. He didn't, so I flipped him the bird, make a 'wanker' sign with my hand, and accelerated away from him. Tosser.

Next up was a blue MG Metro. On a really steep hills, especially ones with a nice curve to them, it's nice to rocket up them, even if it is raining. I was doing so, when an MG metro coming down decided to swing right across my lane, without indicating. Bastard! I slammed on the brakes, and gave him enough time to get across my lane. Fair enough, I was going bloody fast, but he had seen me in plenty of time, and hadn't indicated. I missed his back end only by about 2 feet.

Incidentally, indicating can save the life of a motorcyclist. So many arseholes in cars just don't do it. The other day, I was filtering through statioinary traffic on the motorway. Interested to see how fast I could go and still 'feel' like I was being safe, I brought it up to about 75-80mph. It was a bit fast. I didn't quite feel safe. Apparently 80% of people will drive within a sort of safety buffer. They instinctively know how fast is safe, and so they don't drive any faster than this. This is the technique road planners use to work out speed limits, unless they are outside schools or on housing estates, etc.

So I drop down to about 70, and this feels better. My brain's processing the information at a nice comfortable pace, and it's not feeling quite as 'crazy' anymore. You know when you play computer games, and you're losing and starting to lose your cool and you sort of have a brain panic. Your brain cannot handle the level of processing, and you struggle to keep up with what's happening and the co-ordination becomes messy. I do not get this. I seem to have a level of calm when it comes to computer games that allows me to have an incredible comeback facility. I am the finisher. I finish it where others panic.

Anyway, I digress. Although I get the feeling rarely in computer games, drive too fast on an unknown road, and you'll soon be feeling it. You can only react so fast, after all.
So anyway, I slow to about 70mph. I'm still on the white lines in the middle of two lanes, weaving in amoungst cars of different widths apart, occasionally slowing slightly to line myself up with the tight gaps, then blasting through. The cats eyes make my bike jump up and down like an excited puppy at dinner time. I noticed an indicator on up ahead. Bad news, but better than movement with no indicator. I slow down as fast as I can, but the people carrier is moving. Luckily for me, the car letting it in has left enough of a gap for me to pull past it, then swerve in a right had curve around the people carrier as it moves to the right, and then swerve back into the center so that I don't go into the back of the car at the front of the gap. I was doing about 50mph by now.

That was a close one, but I was pleased with the level of calm involved. The whole thing was very smooth, and had the whole thing had been filmed from a helicopter, I would probably have added classical music as the soundtrack.

I guess 70mph isn't safe after all. I must be in that remaining 20% then!
- posted by Ryaninja @ 6:49 pm 3 comments

 
The First Post:

WELCOME!

I ride a motorcycle. And I ride it fast. But accidents are not always about speed. More often than not, I have noticed, they seem to be just down to human error. Humans that maybe don't deserve to be in the gene pool along with the rest of us, but humans none the less. Barely.

In this blog, I will list all the times people, objects, animals and circumstances try and kill me. It happens a lot. I will also list the particularly interesting motobike stories that have happened to me in the past, to pad out the posts when nothing tries to rob me of life.

Maybe it's because I ride fast and people don't expect it. I don't know why; I am on a big loud fast motorcycle. Huh.
- posted by Ryaninja @ 6:14 pm 0 comments