Month: August 2019

From The Chair (August 2019)

Posted on | by Andy Slater

One of the most rewarding moments of being an Observer is when, at the end of a ride, your Associate pulls off their helmet, there’s a broad grin on their face, probably followed by, “Wow, I had no idea you could do that!” or something similar. It’s known as the  light bulb moment’. I had such a moment with a new Associate a couple of weeks ago and I know he’s still smiling as we’ve just done a second run together this morning. An already seasoned rider, joining TVAM has opened a window to a world he just didn’t know existed and I’m enjoying showing him around. If you’d like to become a Club Observer see the Training Team at St Crispin’s and see how much fun you could bring to other members wanting to achieve Advanced Test standard.

Across the Club members are always learning new skills, especially with the summer we’re having. Even crusty old Observers can discover a new way of explaining something that suddenly opens up an aspect of biking for an Associate, or a member discovers a few more degrees of lean at Castle Combe or Thruxton on a track skills day that they’ve never experienced before. It’s what makes our sport challenging but also possibly the best fun you can have in leather. Bring it on.

At the same time many members are off exploring new lands, new roads, mountain passes, cols and cafés. Facebook photos of groups waiting at the ferry or channel tunnel terminals make us all slightly envious – I know – that’s exactly why you posted it! But by the time you read this we’ll have posted our own photos from the David Jacobi Müllenborn trip which I’m impatiently looking forward to. The bike’s got new brake pads, fluid, and rubber, and I’ve even booked the service for when I get back as an oil change will be due within a few hundred miles. I’m packing the top box as I write this….

So here’s another edition of Slipstream. As members we’re probably pretty used to a copy plopping through the letterbox a few days before each St Crispin’s. However it’s only when you speak to some new members do you realise just how good this monthly journal is. Some IAM Groups only get a newsletter every other month, or even quarterly, but each month Salli and her team pull together this little gem, packed with details about what’s going on in the Club, reports of members trips, bike show reports, and riding tips. I’d like on behalf of all of us members to say a big ‘Thank You’ to Salli and everyone else who contributes articles. Please keep them coming…..

Enjoy the summer, keep safe

Andy Slater
Chairman

We All Have A Story To Tell

Posted on | by Salli Griffith

We all have a motorbike story/journey to tell. Mine started in 1992 as an 11-year old going to secondary school for the first time and passing the motorbike shop with its mass of green Kawasakis outside. When I first saw a Ninja, I knew I would one day own one.

Fast forward a few years to July 2017. I sat my motorbike theory test and passed first time. I sat the test even before having ever been on a bike. My theory was, if I couldn’t pass the written test then there wouldn’t be any point doing the practical. It wasn’t until a year later that I took my CBT in July 2018. Oh my, I fell in love. I knew this was something that I really wanted to do. The feeling of being on a bike was akin to my other passion – skydiving – freedom! Due to work, it took me until September 2018 to pass my full licence.

As a nurse, I knew passing wasn’t the end of my motorbike journey, rather it was just the beginning. I was aware I needed to be as safe as I possibly could, having seen what happens when things go wrong. In November 2018 I joined TVAM. I remember my first ride, I was shocking! The second observed ride was just as bad. I came to a stop at a junction, put my foot down, went to go but had to stop again. I’d noticed bikes coming around the blind corner. It was almost like the tarmac had been removed, there was nothing there. The road had disappeared and I toppled over onto my ass, laughing at my stupidity. I’m not sure my Observer, David, saw the funny side. At the time we discussed it and we went through what happened and what went wrong. It’s only now, after going through the process, that I fully appreciate why David hadn’t see the funny side. Firstly, I’d missed the sign to say ‘give way 100 yards’. Secondly, I didn’t read the road and hadn’t noticed it was off camber – until I was on my ass.  Finally, I rushed into something without an appropriate plan. On my second observed ride, I was still learning the system – IPSGA.

I was still making silly mistakes up until my 7th observed ride – 6 weeks since starting at TVAM. But then, something clicked. It all made sense. Hoorah! I was riding at an advanced level on each observed ride and I understood. I was becoming a thinking rider. I was becoming a safer rider. I was also becoming a fatter rider thanks to all the coffee and cake over debriefs!

At this point, I thought of something crazy. I will ride around the Highlands on my own, but that’s a story for another day.

Then came my first, big group ride on 7Ws. For most people, 7Ws is a weekend full of fun, sun (at times) and learning. For me it was full of tears, tantrums and losing myself a little along the way. The Friday of 7Ws riding to Wales, was great. My only kind of cock-up was filtering on a solid white line for the Chief Observer to witness. Duh! In my defence, the road was clear and the car behind me was making me nervous, so I avoided danger. That’s my story and I’m going to stick with it. The Friday for me was the best part of the weekend. Having never ridden within a big group or over such distances, it was a challenge which I embraced with both wheels. I hold onto that experience with very high esteem and it helped shape me into a good rider.

On the Saturday, I went on the pink run. I really had no idea what to expect. I went pink because it’s such a pretty colour. In hindsight, I should have paid attention to the ride not the colour. I’m not going to go into much detail, but I was rocking backwards and forwards, crying and ready to hand in my keys! Thanks to Ness and Barry, that didn’t happen. With their observation, knowledge, support and guidance I survived the Saturday. It gave me the reality check that I needed.

On the Sunday, the final group ride, I took the long ride home. Again, in hindsight, I should have taken the quick route. Although this ride was tantrum and tear free, the fatigue had set in. I had to, at each stop, check my own human factors, looking for holes, repair those holes and continue riding again.

Although, my experience on the 7Ws wasn’t like most peoples, I am very much looking forward to September, where I plan on being a back marker.

Anyway, I came back from the 7Ws a different rider. I was a lot more competent, but I’d also lost some of my confidence. Although I have a very limited biking history, the one thing I’ve learned is you need to be competent, but you also need confidence – not too much, but just enough, and I’d lost some of mine. I felt sorry for my Observer; he really didn’t know what he was getting himself into when he was paired with me. I’m not going to lie; I was – still am – a challenge. It took a pep talk and a social ride for me to regain what I’d lost. From that point, each ride was about fine tuning. My cross check went swimmingly and I was recommended for my advanced test. Hoorah!

After only 9 months of riding under my belt I went to Scotland and rode the NC500 on my own. I had to come back a few days earlier than planned because I had, whilst on the NC500 route, booked my test. I never do anything the easy way.

I remember the morning of my advanced test; I was bricking it. Yes, I vomited! I’m not ashamed to admit that nerves got the better of me for all of 10 minutes. But I took it like a girl, I ‘super-womaned’ up, I could achieve anything, and I did. I passed my advanced test with a F1RST and full clean sheet of ones.

I went from a learner, to advanced rider in 9 months! Within 6 months of joining TVAM I had undergone 16 observed rides, countless social rides both with large groups, small groups and, when not on an official ride, my ‘riding buddy’ David. With maybe 60 hours of contact time, countless text messages ranging from analysing rides, discussing situations and random questions with my Observer, I was an advanced rider. As I said, I could achieve anything and I did, but I had the support of the group and my Observer. If it was not for David but also Alan, Steve, Ness, Keith and many more Observers and fellow Associates (mostly Julie – who was told everything – if it went wrong, we discussed; if it went right, we discussed) I wouldn’t have been able to achieve my goal. I look forward to where my place fits within the group, my story isn’t like everyone else’s and I want to pass on my journey and experience to the future, thinking riders.

Unfortunately, 4 days after passing my advanced test I came off my bike, broke my foot and am unable to ride for the moment due to being in cast – but that’s a story for another day!

Oh, and if anyone is wondering – The Tea Cosy, Hurstbourne Tarrant was probably the best stop off/debrief location/cake-eating place David and I visited whilst on our journey to making me a thinking rider.

Paula Nash

First Published in Slipstream August 2019

Garmin/BMW SatNav 6: Black Screen Disaster & Repair

Posted on | by Salli Griffith

A few weeks back, while planning my 7Ws routes and uploading to my SatNav 6, the screen went black and just wouldn’t switch on. Battery was good, external power good, it just wouldn’t turn on. Like laptops when they go wrong, you simply remove all power supplies and the battery, wait 30 seconds then restore power. The SatNav 6 has 2 screws on the rear battery compartment so I simply removed the cover, disconnected the battery, waited, then put it back; fixed.

I was about to ride the final leg of my tour of reservoirs when the damn thing went blank again. The micro crosshead screwdriver that I had packed for such an occasion came out, and I disconnected the battery then tried to plug it back in again. However, the connectors are somewhat flimsy (and that’s an understatement) and the pins got bent over. On straightening them, one broke off. Connecting the SatNav 6 to the bike was futile as they don’t work without the battery installed.  Fortunately, Paul Taylor lent me his SatNav 6 and we made it back to the hotel via my planned route without a hitch.

The Fix

The photos below show just how small the pins are. I snapped off the remaining 3 and the pin on the left has the solder leg still attached, whereas the other 2 snapped in the same place as the one in Wales. Compared to the millimetre marks on the ruler, the actual area of metal holding the pins to the solder tag is probably less than an eighth of 1 square millimetre. No wonder they bent over and then snapped!

There wasn’t even any support along the base of the rest of the tag either. It makes me wonder if this design was to ensure they get sent back for repair.

The fix involved going on to Ebay and finding 4 pin Micro JST connectors. £1.82 got me 2 pairs, and I set about soldering the new connectors on.

You can just make out the remains of the tag of the pin that snapped in Wales. It’s the rectangular bit inside the white circle.

The other 3 pins are still in place before I pulled them out. The new connector’s wires were soldered onto the circuit board and battery. Now, when I have to disconnect the battery due to gremlins, I can disconnect at the connector block and not have to worry about pins the size of bees’ antennae.

The actual soldering was tricky, as I had to get the tip of the iron in the hole where the original connector block resided, while holding the wire in place with needle-nose tweezers. How robust it’ll be is yet to be determined, but reinforcing the solder connections with epoxy might be needed. Only time will tell. At least the £600 poorly designed device is now working again.

Gaz

First published in Slipstream August 2019

Full English, -ish

Posted on | by Salli Griffith

 

A trip to the Norton factory meant arriving early at Beaconsfield Services for a full English – Norton’s surely nothing if not the full English? Park up, wander in, burgers, sushi and chicken galore; but egg, bacon, black pud and the rest, in grease with a crisp fried slice? No chance – unless the well-hidden ‘spoons could provide, but by the time I’d spotted it I’d plumped for a McBacon bap. Looked good, but a bit pricey and didn’t quite hit the spot.

There must have been 10 of us there by 8.15am and already it was warm. As we scoffed, more turned up, amongst them run leader Phil Donovan. Troughing complete he gave us a briefing and new TVAM run arm-bands, complete with insert for my ICE contact details (my brother, who’d kill me if he got the call), phone PIN code and little else – who knows their blood type and would the medics trust what was scribbled there anyway? Then it was just a question of herding some 20 bikers into a shape suitable for the ride to Castle Donington, a tricky exercise made all the more so by Phil instructing us to form a line along the Costa car park then vanishing. Once we’d worked out it must be the Starbucks car park things sped up and I doubt we waited more than 10 minutes before Phil swooped past and led us on our way.

A fair old way it was too, and on a Friday not exactly traffic free. Phil had sorted a good route with a fine selection of A’s and B’s, no motorways and a couple of comfort breaks. First of which was the Super Sausage café, where there was no time for their splendid looking full English, though Robin, who met us there on his venerable Falco (he’s adopted a Trigger’s Broom maintenance regime) had had time to indulge. Then to a converted barn for (mostly, ahem) pre-booked lunches, followed by more herding to get us away in good time for factory arrival by 2.30pm.

 

As the afternoon progressed the traffic did the opposite and overtake hunting became necessary and frequent, as did queuing at lights and junctions. All of which, plus more time than expected waiting with Phil for markers, started to threaten our ETA. I’m not that well up on TVAM ride etiquette but couldn’t help thinking that watching the rider in front ignoring overtakes you’d take is less helpful than being waved past and getting a move on. And queuing two abreast to pull away in pairs would be a good way to keep the group moving along apace. Bikes toppling at fuel stops rather holds things up too… But we didn’t get lost and made there it intact just in time for the 3pm tour – bravo the marker system!

Parked up we walked down the drive to the magnificent Regency pile that is the Norton factory, through a tastefully manicured country park under the gaze of a very glossy and languid-looking peacock. Directed by friendly staff to the showroom we were signed in and given permission to drool – close up the bikes look very, very tasty indeed; poised, purposeful and beautifully presented.

Dragged from the showroom by our two guides, first up was a stroll through the grounds to the fabrication unit for an entertaining chat and the opportunity to get our hands on some bits. Blimey they take their time building stuff. First a tank, brushed alloy and achingly pretty but at least three full days to hand bash, weld and polish (which was why we only got to handle a previously dropped and cross-sectioned example). A clutch cover, milled from billet with ‘Norton’ proudly hewn into it – strewth, that’s heavy, no wonder the 961 engine is such a lump. A polished alloy single-sided swingarm, a thing of beauty and no little weight either. A front fairing spider (the intricate assembly of narrow alloy tubes connecting fairing to frame), all hand welded and polished too; OK, starting to see why these bikes cost so much. Robotic assembly would work much better for that job, as it would for the pipe bending – apparently there’s a guy who just does that, all day.

The scope to customise is truly astonishing…

Next up it’s the factory itself. Disappointingly we weren’t allowed to view engines being built as ‘that happens on the first floor’. Eh? What we could see was less factory more open-plan office, desks and chairs replaced by ramps, stands, tool chests and, yes, bikes. At one end an ancient belt drive Norton, scattered around the floor a mostly touch-accessible selection of newer machinery, including very handsome V4’s, one of which was started for us, oh wow! Plus 961 and Atlas variants alongside ex-race bikes in glorious, unwashed, post-TT condition. All fantastic looking, though no photos allowed and a ‘development’ section I was chased out of!

Each bike is hand built by two mechanics in its own bay to the specification of the buyer whose details are included on the build sheets. Virtually unlimited buyer bespoking is available and encouraged, the parts department picking the bits, all double-checked by the mechanics as they bolt them together over a couple of days. Apparently Euro 4 compliance means there’s not a huge variation for different markets which must simplify things a lot.

Beautiful bikes all, but the 961’s have pushrod operated valves, make about 80bhp and cost somewhere around £15,000. The new 650cc Atlas motor is more up to date with overhead cams and, err, that’s about it. The Ranger version’s a stylish-looking twin, sporting hipster vibes and off-road pretensions (hard to see how a vertical gear linkage half the height of the bike could survive a close encounter with anything solid), a tad more power than the 961 and cheaper too – though still north of £11,000. But fancy triple figure horsepower and a pose quotient to die for? That’ll be the 200bhp V4 SS then, a snip at £44,000. Gulp…

Great trip and pleased I went (well done again to Phil for making it happen), the bikes are gorgeous, but their price clearly pertains more to the craftsmanship than its practical upshot. When the owner of Rolex was asked about the state of the watch market he said he had no idea as Rolex wasn’t in the watch market: something similar’s going on here. I’d love to own one, but, given my dining room feels a more appropriate place to keep it than my garage, I can’t help feeling their peacock best sums up Norton for me. Though I suspect that, were I to win the lottery, the McBacon bap would run it close.

Nick Vale

First published in Slipstream August 2019