Simmer Dim booty

I have a rally badge! Now I need a waistcoat to pin it to.

Breakfast, rain

Preparations for the Simmer Dim #4

Followers of #29in29 will remember that my Cath Kidston wash bag disappeared over the horizon towards the Stirling Range, possibly in the posession of a large kangaroo. It was the perfect size for stuffing into a Metal Mule and I have been keeping an eye out for a replacement. It's been looking like the shape had been dropped from the range, though.

Today I decided to ask. I am a bit low and buying things is always a mood-lifter: but I am trying hard to be good and only buy necessary things. Lots of praise for the shop assistant - she knew that they were still available, and that a delivery was expected imminently, so she went into the back for a look.

And now I shall be ready for my close-up again :)

Preparations for the Simmer Dim #3

Timpsons declared my boots unrepairable so I am attempting to prove them wrong with Gorilla Glue. I'll settle for Mostly Waterproof.

Preparations for the Simmer Dim #2

I have done page 62, Air Cleaner (though I really ought to buy a new one); page 63, Crankcase Breather; page 73, Throttle Operation; and page 100, Cleaning.  I have also had a go at re-gluing the heated grip back onto the throttle (it twists round until it acts as a rev limiter) and trimmed some of the end of the rubber in an attempt to stop it sticking open.

I haven't done page 64, Engine Oil, because I'll check levels before we set out next week. I haven't done page 69, Spark Plugs, because it seems to involve taking half the bike apart; or page 75, Drive Chain, because despite working out I still can't lift 2Moos onto the centre stand. We'll get there.

I also haven't done page 84, Wheel Removal, because I'm not sure how this will help. But I'm reassured that should I need to do this, my Owners Manual has helpful pictures, unlike the BMW one which just said "this should be done by your Authorised BMW Dealer. "

Bellend

So I'm parking 2Moos this morning, in his usual spot, and I'm a bit tetchy because he's just fallen over thanks to an infelicitous combination of potholes and lumps in the tarmac, and I'm paddling him backwards into the space when I hear "TINGYTINGYTINGYTINGY" from a bicycle pedalling towards me.

"What's your problem?" I ask, cheerfully.

"I don't want to run into you," he says.

I may be missing the point here but how does ringing a ridiculous little bell at me help with that?

Here are the clues to what I was doing:-

• I was lining up a motorcycle next to several other parked motorcycles

• I was moving backwards not forwards

• I didn't have a helmet on, so I clearly wasn't about to pull off and ride into the road

Here's a suggestion.

If you don't want to run into me, don't pedal at me and expect me to get out of your way because you've rung your bell.

That's the equivalent of me putting my indicator on and cutting you up.

Just a thought. 

Preparations for the Simmer Dim #1

I have found my badge which served me well in Freshers Week (though, since I went to that bastion of privilege, St Andrews, I ought to call it Bejants Week). Though I think the two things which made me memorable were the fact that I spilt red wine down my posh white top in the first five minutes of the David Russell Hall welcome drinks, and my participation in the Student Union Blind Date show (he didn't pick me, but I definitely had the sauciest answers).

It's not quite true of course - I shall know Nick and Jane, and Bobbi if she can get her trike fixed. So that will be 3 down, 246 to meet. No worries :)

Hortense, topless

It has not been the weekend I planned, but it has been all the better for it. I am supposed to be in Scarborough this evening researching a travel feature. I am actually at home watching The Terminator on BBC2.  I have had a peaceful evening watching the Jubilee Concert and rebuilding my mountain bike, which I had to take to pieces this morning to fit into the car. I had to cycle to the car this morning because yesterday, after riding home for 3 hours in the pouring rain from Yorkshire, I drove in the car (in the pouring rain) to the King Bill to see Charlotte Pergande and Stephen Hehir do their new acoustic set. I was very good and had 2 pints carefully spaced over 3 hours so I could drive home, but I was led astray by a jug of incredibly strong sangria and wonderful company and ended up getting a taxi home at 10.15.

After extracting several pieces of bicycle from the car and putting the seats back in, I celebrated  in the the traditional Bank Holiday manner with a trip to Tescos.  In my car. In the rain. Which was lovely.

Everything will be all right :)

I am off on my holidays - well, a 3-and-a-bit-day bike tour of North Yorkshire. Part of me thinks this is not a terribly good idea, given the circumstances, which are that I have a bastard cold, a dodgy knee, and holes in my feet owing to an alcohol-induced decision to carry out late-night surgery on some very annoying blisters. But if I didn't go out on the bike, I would only sit at home languishing. So we are off to the North, home of good beer, and hopefully, a chip supper.

if Fortune begin to stay still, she is no longer Fortune

The Wheel of Fortune was much beloved of medieval minds.  Blindfolded, Fortune spins her wheel. Some rise, others fall.  That's been me, this week.

Yesterday I collected the car, complete with new MOT, from Rob at Chevronics. I'm not sure it wants to be Hortense any more. I think it wants to be Steve McQueen, and try jumping over things. But that's not my point. It sounds a lot less rumbly now that it hasn't got a failed wheel bearing, which is interesting (but isn't my point either). It also sounds like a farting frog, because the exhaust is blowing. The positive turn of the wheel is that the exhaust isn't blowing because I did a bad job replacing the silencer - it's blowing because there's a hole in the cross box, which I'd tried to get away without changing. So although, on the face of things, it's bad news, it's actually good news because I did the job well. Just not far enough up the car. And I enjoyed yesterday's deluge an unreasonable amount, because I was sitting in a car in in appropriate shoes looking out at the rain instead of sitting out in the rain.

On the falling side of fortune's wheel is my sat-nav. 36 hours before I leave on a tour of the more obscure roads of North Yorkshire,  the Garmin cradle has given up passing power to the unit.  The Zumo itself still charges from a PC, but unlike Boffin, I don't have a 3-pin socket in one of my panniers so that isn't a massive help.  Also on the down side are my army boots. The soles have split and are attempting to make a break for a new life on their own. I took them to Timpsons and the man with the apron on said "Time to buy a new pair love."

These are the only boots I have ever had that are comfy to walk in as well as ride, and I found them by accident in Waterside Antiques in Ely  after a whole day at the NEC trying on boots in the company of the Midnight Mud Wrestler. I can't face doing going through that again.