R is for...

R is for Riding, of course, but when it comes to the RBR it first stands for Research.

I've finally cleared the decks of other commitments and have a four-day weekend coming up, which means an RBR run to Wales....but I'm behind in my research and have only just sat down and had a good Google.

I can tell I'm behind because there's a scattering of other rallyers across village message boards and web forums asking "do you know anything about a well house?"

I've got my own secret sources but thanks for the tip-off about geograph, where landmarks come not just with a Landranger reference but also a photograph :)

Less time researching = more time riding!

Playing Chicken

Lots of coverage in the press today of Antony Young, who has been awarded compensation by the Criminal Injuries Compensation Authority after being badly hurt in a crash caused by a 12-year old boy who deliberately ran into the road as a dare.

The case has been reported in very mixed ways - kudos to the Times, who put it in the headline that the boy was playing chicken, but the Telegraph headline is "Motorcyclist who killed boy gets compensation" - which suggests a whole other scenario and might leave casual readers quite angry.

Presumably this crash is one of those claimed in aid by biking's critics who like to argue that motorcycles are more dangerous to pedestrians than cars. It just goes to show that the real stories are always more complicated than the statistics.

Daddy or Chips?

Slightly worrying post from Erin over at The Telegraph.

As Rob commented, when is it ever ok to ask the person you love to give up something they love?

I predicted it would never work out for Lembit Opik and Sian Lloyd when they went on Rob Brydon's spoof chat show and Sian told the world she wouldn't let him ride his bike because it was too dangerous. Should have placed a bet somewhere...

Southend Shakedown

Bautiful sunny day, thousands of bikers in Southend - and me travelling there by train because of family commitments. Grrr!

I particularly like the traditional puddle of oil beneath the vintage Triumph

Better than sex!

Heated grips!

Had to have new bars fitted today after noticing that the left was three inches nearer my knees than the right (I think my impact with Scottish tarmac may have been rather harder than I admit).

I have tried thermal gloves, silk liners, woolly liners, extra-long sleeves, thermal sleeves, extra-long gloves.

None of them work.

It's difficult to concentrate on safe riding when you can't feel your fingers. Actually, not being able to feel your fingers would be fine, it's the screaming agony of the cold gnawing into the bones that causes the real problem.

So I thought I would make a virtue out of necessity and have heated grips put on my new bars.

Joy!

Toasty fingers at last. (but chilly thumbs. Can't win them all)

Biker Movies

Erin Baker, over at The Telegraph, has been blogging about Wild Hogs, the new John Travolta movie, which has started an argument about credible biker movies.

Thin on the ground, I admit! But my contributions have been:

World's Fastest Indian (world's slowest film, but it's very good)

The Motorcycle Diaries (Nortons and Marxism - very educational)

Chopper Chicks in ZombieTown (I'm allowed to nominate this being a girl!)

still thinking about others...