October 2022

KYO 192K Where Are You?

Posted on October 16, 2022 | by Salli Griffith

Adventures on a Norton Commando

Part 1: Lessons Learned?

One morning in the summer of 1970 I was head-down at my university’s Air Squadron, boning up on the DeHavilland Chipmunk (the RAF’s basic trainer), preparing for an exam on airframes or some other mission critical subject. A fellow student pilot burst into the room. “You’ve got to come outside and look at this!” I soon joined a small throng of young men ogling a Norton Dominator (650cc), its owner beaming proudly. Obsessed with motorcycles since a teenager, I asked for a ride. “Sure,” replied the owner. “Hop on”. And hop on I did, to be treated to the ride of my life. He kicked the machine into a roar and blasted down the cul-de-sac that was Chaucer Road. He slammed on the brakes, turned, and raced back.

I was smitten. Never had I accelerated or braked so fast. As a thrill, it came very close to beating the eight turn spins we were practising in the Chipmunk. This was a must-have! I faced a couple of problems. I had just failed my motorcycle test on a friend’s Bantam 125. The clutch seized as I arrived at the test location. Explaining this to my examiner, he gave the bike a cursory once over, deemed it fit to go and went on to fail me for improper control of the machine.

My mother lived in Mauritius at that time. So, over the holidays, undeterred, I borrowed my brother’s Velocette 350cc Viper. On a Mauritian provisional licence, I thumped and thudded around the island’s roads for a bit before turning up for the test. A police inspector arrived, admired the bike, told me to do a tour of the car park and gave me my licence. I traded that in for an International Driver’s Licence and was good to go.

norton commando — *Norton Commando 750 MkII. KYO 192K in all its glory. Photo: Cambridge Backs, Autumn 1973.*

The day I picked it up from the south London dealership remains clear in my mind, even though it was some 50 years ago. I was told how to start it, engage gear etc. and thus prepared, set off in trepidation. It was terrifying. I was totally incompetent and out of my depth. Within a couple of miles, the bike stuttered to a halt. I managed to park up on a traffic island in the middle of the road and discovered it had run out of fuel. (Let a dealer try that one on a customer today!). Luckily, I remembered there was a reserve, so I turned the tap and mercifully it thundered into life after a few vigorous kicks (on the kick starter, for those of you who don’t know of these things).

I headed out to Hertfordshire where my good friend François lived. We hatched a plan to go touring the following summer, and he set about finding a bike of his own. Back at university I decided to do a 200 mile ride to help run in the machine. The engine was amazingly tight. I came back from that ride with my kidneys turned to marmalade, so hard was the seat. It clearly needed running in as well.

Gradually my confidence grew, and the panic attacks subsided. The university did not allow students to have motor vehicles, but I needed to get out to the airfield to fly and was given a special permit. I would rock up for my flight (we called them sorties), park outside the hangar, check out my Chipmunk, pole around the sky, before belting back to my college on my yellow machine – Maverick style. I used my cream calf-leather flying gloves for riding, as well as my flying boots. I even managed to find a small space to park the Norton in the Fellows’ garage in the forecourt. My beautiful girlfriend, later my wife, happily perched on the back. My mum even knitted me a lovely yellow scarf to match! I bought a Bell Star full face helmet (quite avant-garde at the time) and had painted on the front: “In the event of accident, do not remove”. I mean, how daft can you get? But I really felt I was living the part. I loved that bike.

A few weeks before François and I set out on our Continental Tour, I decided to show off the Norton at my old school. I passed by a dealership on the way, somewhere like Northampton, I think. The dealer chatted about the Norton’s superior handling. “If ever you’re in trouble round a bend, just crank it over,” he said. “The bike will take it.” Heard that one before? Sure enough, a little while later I was hammering too fast into a right-hander. The wise words ringing in my ear, I leaned the bike harder and hit gravel. The bike went one way. I followed. My flight time was probably quite short, but I had only the one thought while airborne: “What-on-earth-am-I-going-to-say-to-my-Dad?” Bang! I hit the deck, dislodging an enormous paving stone with my left shoulder, thumping my head and scraping my flying glove to within a thousandth of an inch from my skin.

I phoned François with the news. Brilliant friend that he is, he soon arrived with his mini van into which we heaved the sorry bike. Sometime later I got it to Norton at Andover. It might have been the factory. Given the urgency they rebuilt what they could, and François and I were good to go for the trip…sort of.

Next time: François and I head for France, and more gravel…

Nigel Downing

First published in Slipstream October 2022

Welsh Wanders 2022 (Gallery)

Posted on October 16, 2022 | by Salli Griffith

I thoroughly enjoyed meeting and chatting to members from TVAM in one place that was not just for the morning as we do at St. Crispins. The ride to and from Wales with Alan and Ray leading the pack and with Brian and Sid as the back markers was an incredible experience. To top it off, the ride on the Saturday organised and run by Ian and Louise with Cheryl as back marker was something I will never forget, the route and the views were in equal measure, absolutely stunning! I am very much looking forward to the next event.
Martin Robinson

On Top of the World

Posted on October 16, 2022 | by Salli Griffith

Following trips to the Sahara and through the countries at the side of the Adriatic to Athens, where could we go? Back in 2019 we cooked up a plan to go to the Himalayas in 2020. This would be a bit different, in that an organised tour seemed wise after self-organised trips elsewhere.

We settled on a company called Ride Expeditions. They were fantastic, with four members of staff and a support vehicle on the trip and great communication in the COVID years. It seems wimpy in some ways but was great. Bags taken to rooms (or tents), water and snacks provided at breaks, meals and tea stops laid on, bikes mysteriously filled with fuel overnight; and no luggage to carry on the bikes except the day’s water and waterproofs. In emergency you could ride in the support vehicle, all very re-assuring. Really nice people too.

This is the trip: www.rideexpeditions.com/motorcycle-tours/himalayan-heights

The bikes were Royal Enfields, pretty well compulsory in India for all but urban journeys. This trip was to be on 35% unpaved/65% paved roads, 1410 km. The trip is only possible from mid-July to mid-September between the monsoon season and snow. Leh, a city of 180,000 at the north end of the trip is cut off from the world except by air for six months each year. This is epic stuff.

The group met in Delhi, 11 intrepid adventurers, all riders, no pillions: four from a family, two sisters, three individual travellers (one aged 72) my mate Nigel (Dorset IAM) and me. Broadly half the group had off-road experience and half not. We, from the on-road only contingent, were told we should do some off-road training, be confident to stand for significant distances and know how to instinctively avoid two lorries coming round a blind corner side-by-side. We had one day’s training in Dorset four months before the trip…not enough! Two days seemed to work for other mainly road riders.

After a night amongst the chaos enjoyed by the 29 million Delhi residents, taxis took us to Shimla, the old Empire summer seat of government, where we picked up the Royal Enfield Scramblers, then headed north over eight days or so not far from the Chinese and Pakistan borders.

The Himalayas are immense. Wikipedia runs out of “highest mountains in the world” at number 108 and they are all in the Himalayas and associated ranges, like the Hindu Kush and Karakoram. They feel it too. There really are no words or photos that can do it justice. You just drive along in a state of constant breath-taking amazement.

India is a shock to the system. The people are great and welcoming and talk to strangers and try to help. On the other hand the country has great contrasts of wealth with families sleeping on the streets of Delhi alongside swanky western- style hotels. The driving is extraordinary. It’s very rare to see indicators being used, only horns. The use of horns is not an act of aggression, just a reasonable request to move over to allow overtaking. The outcome is an accident rate six times the world average measured against vehicle ownership. We saw loads of accidents and vehicles at the bottom of ravines, despite frequent road safety signs.

It is a scruffy country needing lots of painting and rubbish collection, clearing dumped rubbish from the edges of towns. The dump in Delhi is like a vision of Hell. Whether you like this earthiness and humanity is your choice!

The bikes were great. Didn’t miss a beat and no complaints about the 25hp, less at altitude. Quite easy to pick up when dropped too. It was great riding along with 13 others, including Ride Expeditions run leader and back markers. The enthusiasm was infectious and fantastically supportive.

There are cows in the road, even settled in the fast lane of new dual carriageways, with cars and bikes going the wrong way down dual carriageways if it suits them. Apparently, like in the UK, you are supposed to use the left hand lane on a dual carriageway, but no-one much does.

The IAM emphasis on early anticipation of hazards is vital here, though nothing else we’ve learnt is! One thing the IAM does better is the Marker system. Not much marking to do because of the deep valleys but we had a couple of people going the wrong way, including me doing a private trip up a mountain to an Indian Army base. In one case because one of the group marked more for artistic impact than clarity, we had a dark evening trip down an unmade 15km diversion on day 2. Fairly scary, but we all made it.

In the Himalayas, nature is in charge. Landslips take away significant sections of road. The solution; bulldoze a temporary route through sand, streams, rocks and cross-country. Road building and improvement is carried out in the same way.

We went over four passes at a height of over 5,000m. The top of Ben Nevis is 1,345m. For over a week we were above the altitude sickness risk height of 3,000m. You do have to move about quite carefully but no-one really suffered worse side effects.

The first part of the ride is through heavily vegetated mountains within reach of annual monsoons, the northern part is through stark, unvegetated dramatic scenery with rapidly flowing huge rivers including the Indus flowing to Pakistan and doing immense damage.

The northern part is mainly Buddhist with lots of stupa (prayer towers) temples and monasteries adding to the atmosphere.

The area is highly militarised with threats from China and Pakistan. There are lots of barracks and massive 50-lorry military vehicle convoys slowly grinding over single track, sometimes unmade, passes.

As always, some of the pleasures were social, eating and drinking beer. The whole disparate group got on great and one or two are talking about doing the same trip next year. We stayed in a range of hotels, from basic (but fine) to quite smart and four nights under canvas: one rudimentary (and freezing), one pretty good yurt and the other luxurious Scandi style tents in magical hotel grounds. Lots of curry of course until you become an expert at avoiding three curries a day by about day 8!

So the best bits: the extraordinary scenery, the challenge of riding through streams, sand, mud and rocky tracks, whilst not hitting other road users, and the camaraderie. The weather helped too; no rain and a nice riding temperature.

We all got back safely except for one broken toe and sprained ankle, hitting a protruding rock. We are now all trying to come down from this amazing two weeks.

If you’ve any inkling to do this trip, just book now, whether in a group or by yourself. Its only weakness is, what do you do next?

Roger McDonald

First published in Slipstream October 2022

From the Chair (October 2022)

Posted on October 16, 2022 | by Barrie Smith

It’s hard to believe that we have arrived at October already. The year just seems to have flown by and I hope that you have all had the chance to get to experience some of the many Club activities that have been running throughout the riding season.

As October marks the end of the TVAM financial year, the committee’s attention turns
to drafting the Annual Report that goes out to Club members over the winter, ready for the AGM in January. This takes a huge effort from many members, as well as the Committee, as it has to be sent to the Charities Commission to ensure that we meet the aims and objectives of the charity that is TVAM. I thought that I would share a few thoughts with you all for my piece this month.

It’s been another challenging year, in our attempts to get back to the Club’s full package of activities post-Covid. That said, it is in a good position with membership continuing to grow at a sustainable rate and activities for members are building back to pre-Covid levels and higher. The Club’s finances are also in good shape.

We’re continuing to invest in training, as the bedrock of what we do, and developing the Club to provide the social and riding activities for all of our members.

The number of social rides has continued to grow and we now see a huge range of rides that have as few as 2-3 riders and as many as mid 20s. There are many of the old favourite routes being re-introduced as well as many new ones that incorporate new stops for coffee or lunch to cafés and farm shops all over the southern end of the country. Welsh Wanders has once again headed for Wales for their end of summer social riding.

For those that wish to develop their skills, 7Ws, the principal Associate training weekend, ran in April and the relaunch of the 3Rs as a training weekend for Full Members ran in May. The Autumn edition of 7Ws will be taking place as this issue of Slipstream goes to print and will be the final training weekend of the TVAM year. Hopefully more on that in November’s edition.

For our Full Members our Advanced Plus, with an extension into Yorkshire, is working well with lots of Full Members taking advantage of ongoing coaching on their riding. Full Members now have the opportunity to do an Advanced Plus with Hull & East Riding Advanced Motorcyclist (HERAM). Nigel Taylor, HERAM Chief Observer and long-standing member of TVAM is very happy to introduce TVAM Members to the delights of the Yorkshire roads. Have you done one? When was the last time you received some positive input into your riding? It’s as easy as emailing advancedplus@tvam.org to arrange a day in the TVAM area or maybe a couple of days with Nigel in Yorkshire.

I am particularly pleased to see that all of our courses have been able to run at least once this year. Some have clearly been easier to make happen than others, however it is great to see that we have finally been able to re-instate Look Lean Roll to members and we kept going with Advanced Bike Control. BikeCraft made a comeback to a classroom environment, after several successful online versions of the course, and the ‘full’ Observer Core Skills Days returned to enable us to ramp up the number of Observers within the Club. If you’re a Full Member and are interested in becoming an Observer, please email observerinterest@tvam.org and we can arrange a chat with a member of the Training Team and start you on your next journey within TVAM.

We’re progressing well on the project to build a new database function for the Club and this is likely to cost a lot less than we had originally budgeted for.

So that’s a taster of what we’ve been doing and you’ll see more when the Annual Report is issued at the end of the calendar year.

I hope that you all enjoy reading this month’s Slipstream and don’t forget that if you take part in a course, social ride, training event or anything else of a motorcycling nature that you feel you would like to share with your fellow members, please put a short article together and send it to Salli at slipstream@tvam.org so she can include it in a future edition of our excellent monthly magazine.

Barrie Smith

Chairman