yamaha xj600

Rider Assist Technology

A couple of years ago (thanks to lockdown) I came back to biking after an absence of about 35 years, although my initial interest was about restoring older bikes. I started on a 1989 XJ600 with a full rebuild that I still haven’t quite finished, but it was a practice run that taught me an awful lot. In particular, it’s a bit like pulling a bit of wallpaper – don’t do it! Running and riding is good enough.

Having got my DVSA licence at the end of 2020, I didn’t have a bike that i could actually ride. To practice for my test I bought a 20 year old Honda Shadow 125 and, fun as it was, it wasn’t quite up to the job. I then bought an old BMW Funduro 650 that had been somewhat neglected and quickly got that running and riding and looking smart enough, soon followed by a 1995 Honda CBR1000F that had been stood in a garage for 20 years. I still have all these bikes, and really enjoy riding them. However it takes a level of dedication to maintain them in good running order. 

What all these bikes have in common are A) carburettors and B) no rider technology. The CBR has linked brakes through a very complex mechanical solution but that’s about it apart from electronic ignition and I have no desire to go back to points.

When I started on my TVAM adventure a little over a year ago I quickly realised that I was going to have to buy a new bike. The risk of breaking down on my old bikes is just too high and wouldn’t be fair on Observers (what a fantastic bunch of people they are). Social rides were putting just too many miles on the bikes that generally have less than 25,000 miles on them. Looking for a new bike was an adventure in itself, with an opportunity to learn about all of the advances that had been made since I last bought a new bike in 1984. I knew very well that I wanted to avoid all of the current rider assist technology. I couldn’t avoid fuel injection or ABS (now legally required) but I could avoid all of the other stuff.

It’s not that I’m a technophobe. I work in technology. My house is brimming with multi-room tech. My car is pure electric with lane assist, adaptive cruise and active collision avoidance. But that’s because my car is a functional tool with the sole purpose of getting me from A to B as efficiently, safely and cost-effectively as possible. The sooner I can get a car with level 5 autonomy the better. But biking for me is purely a hobby. It’s my escape from tech. I don’t use my bikes for anything other than social riding and thoroughly enjoy practising and developing my skills both maintaining and riding the bikes.

Nobody talks about cadence braking anymore or how locking up the back wheel is sometimes what you need to do on a loose surface. I find a finely set up bank of carbs give much better throttle control than the snatchiness of fuel injection. I don’t have an issue with the amount of work that goes into keeping carbs running smoothly and efficiently, in fact I rather enjoy it. I’d really rather ride a bike knowing that it’s my inputs and only my inputs that are controlling the bike and know that I’m developing my skills every time I take a bike out.

BMW Funduro
BMW Funduro
Honda CBR1000F
Honda CBR1000F

For a new bike I settled on a Yamaha XSR700 Xtribute, a retro modern bike that yes, has fuel injection and straight-line ABS, but nothing else. The throttle lever was attached to a cable. There were no rider modes, ABS settings, IMU’s or fairings. That suited me perfectly. An enormously fun bike that has to be ridden. The front end is light and wobbly and gets even lighter and wobblier at speed. The tyres are pseudo off-road with a bit of knobliness that feel like they might break away at any point. It takes practice and experience to ride it effectively. Trying to keep up with sports bikes and GS’s on social rides was an exhausting effort but so much fun.

Yamaha XSR700 Xtribute
Yamaha XSR700 Xtribute

One year on and I had to conclude that I needed a bike that could handle distances and touring. The Yamaha XSR700 is good for a 150 mile run, but anything more is just too much, and I’d like to do some touring or go on longer runs without needing a recovery day afterwards. And that means that I am going to have to adapt to a largeish touring bike with rider assist tech. So last week I traded in my XSR against a new Yamaha Tracer 900GT complete with panniers and a big screen and a 6 axis inertial measurement unit (IMU) and semi-active suspension and a plethora of modes to choose from.

Yamaha Tracer 900GT
Yamaha Tracer 900GT

A few hundred miles in and I don’t yet know whether it’s all good or all bad. I love the quick shifter although down shifts are going to take a bit of practice. There’s a green up down arrow to indicate whether the system is ready but who has time to look at that and, under relatively heavy braking with a down shift, I found the ABS kicking in on the back wheel, something that I have largely been able to finesse on my other bikes with a slow release of the clutch to give a bit of slip. So I might just stick to clutched down shifts.

The big perspex barn door that pretends to be a fairing is horrible, and I’ll have to find an aftermarket, less intrusive, solution. The semi-active suspension doesn’t appear too troublesome. There are 2 modes, soft and hard or, as the dealer put it, English roads and French roads. In soft mode the bike felt very stable, but I guess I’ve yet to push it hard. So far I have no idea whether the traction control and power modes have been interfering in any way. A six axis IMU is basically the same tech as you have on a mobile phone. The six axes are lean, pitch, yaw, thrust, heave and sway, with umpteen data points per second to determine whether the bike is sliding, skidding, spinning or wheelieing.

The intervention is really nothing more than a power reduction. Active braking as I have in my car is not a part of the setup. It is also largely a dumb technology. As far as I am aware there is no AI learning process to adapt to different riding styles, but I can imagine that will be the next step. So far I have no idea whether any of the parameters have been exceeded at any point. I can feel the forks extend under heavy acceleration, but I don’t know whether the system prevented the front wheel from lifting. I don’t know whether the back wheel was in danger of breaking traction in a tight corner, though I doubt it. I don’t know whether the system kicked in when I was accelerating on gravel. I guess full discovery will only come once I start pushing it.

My attitude to this tech is that I have to be a little more grown up about the whole thing. One day it may make the difference between getting around a corner or doing a bit of hedge trimming and possibly much worse. I will definitely keep riding my old tech free bikes. In fact, I now have more freedom to be a little more extreme in my choice of old bikes. I very much want to keep developing my riding skills. But for a long social ride or tour I’m happy to trade a small amount of pure riding fun for a bit more freedom to travel. I guess even Biggles might have traded his Sopwith Camel for a Cessna Caravan.

Stephen Cudd

First published in Slipstream August 2022

The Long Journey

Speaking to fellow bikers, mine is not an unusual tale, but I hope it will bear telling all the same. My motorcycling journey, or almost non-journey, started back in 1930’s over a quarter of a century before I was even born. My mother lost a favourite uncle to a motorcycle accident.

My father’s distaste for motorised 2-wheelers came a bit later. Fresh back from Dunkirk, the army was setting up lookouts on major hills to warn of an invasion. Radios were in short supply, so pairs of soldiers were dispatched, each with a motorbike. My father’s plea that he didn’t know how to ride one was met with a simple “Well you bloody well better learn”. This was followed by him riding round the west country, identifying any open bit of land that could be used as a landing field and persuading the farmer to block it with old machinery or whatever was to hand.

His hatred of two wheels coupled with an engine became quite intense as he came off it several times after falling asleep. Most were while he was stationary and trying to cop some Z’s on the machine, but a couple were while moving and he ended up in the ditch.

So when I got to 16 it was obvious that hell would freeze over before I could have a moped. Several friends acquired knackered old mopeds and a couple even had Yamaha FS1’s or Gilera’s. I found out all about jealousy! At 17 I learnt to drive a car and may almost never have ventured out on two wheels if it hadn’t been for a schoolmate who got a Honda 125 and agreed to insure me on it. Good move, and his sister wasn’t bad either!

That morphed into a Honda 250 Superdream. Then he took his test, said he was going to get a 500 and if I didn’t take my test then that was the end of the deal. I didn’t, so it was. But his sister was still nice. No training back then and no safety gear. Ski mitts and ski jacket if it was a bit chilly. The first few rides were hair-raising as one fought with the clutch, gears and the traffic altogether without training. I’m glad that this phase of my motorbike career didn’t last long because I know that I wouldn’t have. A small taster of how utterly stupid I could be back then:-

I was in Nottingham and wanted to pop down to Birmingham and back. I borrowed the 250 as it would be quicker than my, then, 850 Mini. Mark warned me that it needed servicing and was not revving cleanly, missing a bit at the top of the rev range. I set off and I caught up with a Capri with a couple of lads in it. It was near No Man’s Heath in Warwickshire if my memory isn’t playing tricks, on what is now the B5493 but used to be the main road before the A42 dual carriageway. Normally the Superdream would have carried me effortlessly past them and on to better things but this time it was not going to play ball.

The Capri accelerated and I was stuck on the wrong side of the road with the engine missing. Of course I wasn’t really stuck at all, I only had to lift off and tuck back in. But I didn’t. The bend loomed up. The double white lines started. Still out there. A truck loomed round the corner, and braked. So did the Capri. I lived to tell the tale.

How stupid. I look back and my blood runs cold. Fate was smiling on me when it decided to remove my access to Mr Honda’s machinery. I wasn’t ready. The year’s rolled by. Rallying four wheels was replaced by marriage and mortgage, so motorbikes became a forgotten dream. In the late 1980’s there was an almost moment. I was commuting up to London and decided that a motorbike would cost about the same as a season ticket and be far more fun. But the job was far from fun, my boss was a pain so I moved companies.

More years passed, the hair grew thinner and I started to get an itch. A truly terrible itch for which there seemed to be no cure. Amongst several of our friends and work colleagues there were lots of motorcyclists. They had survived many years in the saddle, some with no incidents. The itch had started and was getting worse.

As I had never taken a test, I had to do the whole thing. CBT, Theory Test and then Direct access. While part of me said this was a pain, my sensible head told me it was not a bad idea as, after 40 years out of the saddle, it was best to start again. So I hatched a plan to cure the itch. If I did the CBT at the end of November, I would come back home cold, wet but with the itch cured. Epic fail. I came home with a grin from ear to ear. The itch was becoming an addiction.

Charles & Gerry at RoadTrip.

It was a bitterly cold day. An overnight frost meant the instructor advised that we might not be able to do the road part if it didn’t warm up. The morning round the cones etc was a good start and all the old skills started to come back. The lad who was on the course with me failed the eyesight test so he wasn’t going out on the road. So when we did go out we rode for ages, just the instructor and I eating up the miles with the cold seeping into my bones! Did I care? Not a bit, I knew I could crank up the heater driving home in the car.

So what next? I decided to get a 125 and get some miles in. I rode everywhere I could, regardless of the weather and about a year later decided to go for the direct access opting to do that in the outskirts of London so as to be more used to heavy traffic and less of the country bumpkin. The school allowed future pupils to visit early in the morning to do a couple of loops of their tarmac off-road area to assess how many days tuition they needed. I was told I could probably do it in a day but 2 days would be safer. I said that was great but signed up for the full 5-day course. Yes, I wanted the piece of paper but above all I wanted to feel happy to progress to a bigger bike.

What a great week that was! I got to go on some great rides and was rewarded with the two pieces of paper that gave me the new category on my licence. So the 125 had to go. Easy, sold to youngest daughter. Then the difficult bit, what to get? Like a lot of people who learn I leaned towards getting a bike that I had trained on. So a Suzuki V-Strom and a Kawasaki ER6 were top of the list. The Suzuki was quickly crossed off. Too expensive. My wife doesn’t like biking so I will always be buying at the cheap end of the market. But an ER6F was found that fitted the price tag and rode well.

Good choice. I had a lot of fun on it. I said that a 650 would be big enough for me forever but as my trips got longer and longer I found I wanted something more long-legged and more planted on the road. So, just shy of 2½ years later I acquired a Suzuki GSX1250 FA. Casual conversation with my cousin had led to him suggesting this as a replacement. A ride out one day with a mate led to a stop for coffee at a dealership where one was for sale. Conversation with a salesman led to a test ride. Hooked!

There have been a few comic moments. I went into the petrol station one day, got off the bike. Poor thing was obviously tired because it decided to have a lie down. So that’s what the side stand is for. Another day I popped over to see eldest daughter for lunch in the pub. Gravel car park so thought I would stop in the entrance to see if there was a useful bit of hardstanding for the stand (see, I had learnt from the petrol station incident). Put foot down but hadn’t twigged that I had stopped next to a pothole. By the time my foot was near the bottom it was only going to end one way. This time both the bike and I were obviously both tired.

I decided that more skills would not be a bad thing so joined TVAM and recently passed my advanced test. Thanks to John Stevenson for getting me through. I think he misses my after-ride emails where I make lots of observations and ask questions. I think that “you over think it” means “for goodness sake leave me alone”!

So what next on the journey? Long distance lunches are quite normal now. Bucks to Ashbourne, or Brecon, or Malvern/Ledbury. I’ve had a couple of overnight trips away. More longer trips are needed and being away for a few days at a time. I want to go to France. With TVAM I am getting into the back marking and run leading and I think the Observer route beckons.

I have also learnt that I should not have sold the 650. I understand that the secret of happy motorbiking is to never to get rid of the old one…

Charles Leigh-Dugmore

First published in Slipstream August 2022

My “Iron Butt” Ride

The Why

There are so many motorcycle riders out there, and there are also as many different mixed reasons as to why each does what they do.

For me it is mainly about relaxing and clearing my mind. It is also though about pushing my limits and seeing what I can do. From riding 200mhp on an open road (topic for a different conversation) to working on and customising my bike, making it my own and doing as many different things as I can for experience.

I am someone that loves ticking the “To-Do” boxes and will do almost anything once, especially the things that terrify me.

So, when I saw that there is a ride called an Iron Butt (IB) and not many have done it, I decided this was another box that I needed to tick. And if I were to do it, I might as well go big and do it on a bobber: no cruise control or any other creature comforts. It was time I became a member of the Iron Butt Association.

The What

To those not familiar, the Iron Butt Association is not a club as such. There are no membership fees. There is only one way to become a member – you must successfully complete and have certified an IBA Certificate ride.

Iron Butt Association (IBA): www.ironbutt.com

Iron Butt Association UK (IBA UK) – part of IBA: https://ironbutt.co.uk/w3/index.php

An IBA ride is any one of many different rides (https://ironbutt.co.uk/w3/certifiedrides.php), but the entry level ride called the SaddleSore1000 (SS1000) requires you to complete a minimum of 1000 miles in under 24 hours.

Chatting about this ride with my mate Pierre Louw, he decided to join me on this trip. IBA recommends this is done either as a solo ride, or in pairs: any more riders increase fuel-stop times and increase chances of a breakdown.

The When

Having decided to go ahead with it, we agreed to do it mid-June (to be precise we did it on Saturday 11th June 2022) as the days are the longest then. We straight away shared the news with friends and family, which meant there was no turning back.

The Where

Although there are a few pre-planned IB rides in the UK, we decided to plan our own. This was mainly because of my small tank (12.5L): the route had to be planned fuel-stop to fuel-stop. Although my bike can do over 120 miles, we planned even shorter stops (every 105 miles) in case there were any issues with petrol shortages.

We also planned the route to start and finish close to home, so no need for trains or hotel sleepovers before or after the ride.

The Details

For anyone thinking about doing this, I highly recommend reading through the advice/guidance on the IBA UK site – from fuel, to stops, to food and what clothes to wear and take: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_xVdpmTsjiA-zfNG-DI75mvS0deTivmau0ZQCrwx_BE/edit

IBA recommends you do about 50-100 miles over the minimum 1,000 miles, because when you send your documentation proof for validation, they work it out on the shortest available route from stop to stop. For this, we planned our route from Wokingham, up to the west of Scotland, to the east of Scotland, then down to the south east past Norfolk, across to Worcester and finally back home to Wokingham. The plan was for about 1,050miles.

At the very least, you must have a receipt from the start and the finish and a picture of those receipts with your odometer at each point.

The Ride

#1 – Start: We started our ride from Regal Garage – Loddon Bridge, the one by Harley Reading at 03h06 (see pic above).

#2 – Solihull (B90 4EN)

#3 – Wigan – just north of Liverpool (WN6 9RB)

#4 – Carlisle (CA4 0AN) – from here on, in true Scottish tradition, we were met with rain and high winds in excess of 45-50mph: it was very funny looking at Pierre in front of me doing a wide right turn but leaning to his left to counter the wind: not something you see every day.

#5 – Glasgow (G68 0BJ)

#6 – Berwick-upon-Tweed- south-east of Edinburgh (TD15 1QQ) – Rain now stopped but still had wind for a while.

#7 – Darlington (DL1 3NL)

#8 – Retford (DN220PG)

#9 – Brandon (IP27 0ER)

#10 – Coventry (CV7 8NR)

#11 – Cirencester – Cotswolds (GL7 7JR)

#12 – Finish: We ended our ride back at the Regal Garage – Loddon Bridge, the one by Harley Reading at 21h51:

Total ride (excluding ride from home to start and finish to home) was 1,088 miles and took us 18 hours and 44minutes.

Only once I had plotted our actual ride on the map did I realise (and was pointed out by many…many other riders) we should not have finished in Wokingham, but should have continued to Colchester and then back up to Brandon.

During the trip, most parts of my body went through stages of pain and blissful numbness and back to pain. The worst part was my right forearm and wrist as I did not have cruise control.

Our trip started slower than average and ended up faster than average as the last 100 miles were the most painful, and the idea of getting off the seat and having a celebratory whisky and cigar became more inviting with every mile.

In summary, this was an outstanding ride with good company, but I will probably not do it again. I have the badge and pin to show for it… I do recommend everyone does it at least once.

Nico Karaglannakis

First published in Slipstream August 2022

Barrie Smith Chairman TVAM

From the Chair (August 2022)

As an Associate, you will have heard your Observer say ‘ride for yourself’ on many occasions and always before you have an observed ride or take part in a social ride. It forms a fundamental part of what we do as an advanced rider. It basically means look after yourself and take opportunities for you, not for anyone else.

Many of you will know that I spend a lot of time following Associates as a TVAM Observer. I also spend considerable time following Direct Access Students as a DVSA Approved Instructor, as well as leading social rides for the Club, and I like to think that my riding standard is reasonably high. I therefore take the ‘ride for yourself’ message to mean just that, ride for myself and enjoy the ride. This message came back to me a few weeks ago when I was leading a full day’s ride with a really good group of TVAM friends.

We were doing a long day’s riding and I had split the day up into six stages. On the first stage another Observer, a really good friend of mine who I respect immensely, happened to mention that some of my lines in bends were a little unconventional. I had to admit that one or two were not up to my usual standard. After the first stop we set off again and suddenly I found myself thinking about every bend. Worse, I found myself over thinking every bend and things very soon started to go downhill. My standard of riding was now, in my opinion, awful and when we found a few showers and then a prolonged period of rain I just started to get angry with my riding. This, as you can imagine didn’t help at all and the coffee stop couldn’t come soon enough. Luckily the small group of friends could see my own displeasure and they left me alone for a few minutes to calm down.

Now when I say I was riding badly, I mean that I was not happy with my riding style. I certainly was not dangerous, however I was not as smooth as I usually am. That was enough for me to want to do something to change.

The third stage to lunch was an improvement, although I was still having to think my way through the bends so, after lunch I decided to hand over the leading of the ride to another rider. This was easy as we all had the routes and it gave me an opportunity to sit at the back and just focus on my own riding and get back to enjoying the ride again. This simple change worked brilliantly and during the fifth stage I asked a couple of other riders to sit behind me and give me feedback on what they saw.

By the final stage I was back in front and back to my old self. This is where all the training pays off. With a little nudge from my friends, I was able to recognise that I wasn’t riding as well as usual and with the support of those same friends I was able to do something about it.

I guess the moral of this story is that we need to realise when things are not going as well as they could be and do something about it. I reached out to my peer group and they responded in a supportive manner. TVAM is such a supportive group, we should never be embarrassed to say if we have an issue and ask our friends to give us support and feedback.

This brings me nicely onto a couple of things that I’d like you all to think about – riding standard and incident reporting.

Unfortunately, over the last couple of months, we have had two or three reported instances of poor riding on social rides. This has resulted in members almost leaving the Club and this should never happen. Chris, our Chief Observer, has put a note out to team leaders on groups.io and I’d just like to reiterate that no one should ever feel pressured to ride above the speed limit or indeed their own limits. Social runs should be enjoyable for all, and all levels should be welcomed and included. The marker system allows for a mix of abilities in a ride so there should never be a reason to ride beyond your capabilities to keep up with the rider in front.

We should also feel able to discuss any issues with the run leader and issues should be reported to the Club. There is no such thing as a perfect ride so if you make a mistake then apologise.

TVAM collects data on incidents and these can be reported by the run leader in their social ride report, which must be completed after every TVAM social ride. They can also be reported by using the incident report form. Both forms can be found on the website, under ‘Forms’, at the bottom of each page. The data is kept to enable us to learn and not to name and shame anyone.

That’s enough from me. I hope that you enjoy this month’s edition of Slipstream and are still out enjoying this excellent weather we’re currently experiencing.
Have fun and stay safe everyone.

Barrie Smith

Chairman