The Chapman Zone Dave’s Blog

I am a prize nob…….  1

Posted on October 28th, 2008. About Motorbiking.

So I’ve just finished work, and walking back to my bike for the ride home - still want to get on it at every opportunity!

I get to my bike, pop the helmet and gloves on the floor, go to the bike, pop the keys in the ignition and…..

….Right, before I get to what happened next, I want to take you back a few weeks. Same scenario, same place, same sort of time…

I go to the bike to turn it on before donning my buff and helmet, switch the key on, hold in the clutch and press the ’start’ button….

…..nothing….

….nada, nowt, zip, squelch, nowterooni….

…..biff!, splat!, newt!, mint!, poooooooooo!, SPONNNNG!!!…..

Oh, sorry - the bike didn’t make those noises - just got lost in my bizzare reverie of peculiar onomatepias……

….aaaaaaaaaanywaaaaaay….. the bike wouldn’t start. Hmmmmm……

As I’m pondering what might have caused this situation, another biker called Andy turned up to go home too. He asked what was wrong, and then tried to help me out by giving me a couple of bump starts. Unfortunately, to no avail.

We came to the conclusion that the battery had died. Not a great stretch of the imagination to work that one out, granted. I had to then go see the caretakers (they’re called ‘Facilities Management’ nowadays) to borrow a screwdriver so I could remove the battery and take it home. I was mildly concerned that the battery was buggered, as opposed to just dead, as I could not figure out what would have caused this de-juicification.

Luckily, dear father was able to come get me and bring me home. That evening I popped round to Tiffy’s, who had kindly offered to pop it on charge overnight.

To cut a long story shor……well, slightly less long, I took the charged battery into work on Monday, hooked it up to the bike and hey presto! it started.

Hooray!

Later that same day, I passed Andy in the corridor, who asked how the bike was, and then mentioned that he had noticed before that the day my battery died, I had left it in ‘park’ all day.

Now, for those who are thinking “huh?”, ‘park’ is the key setting just beyond the steering lock (the key positions on the ignition go ‘on’ ‘off’ ‘lock’ ‘park’). ‘Park’ basically leaves the parking lights on, for when you have to jump off the bike quickly in the dark, say to go post a letter or something, and you don’t want another car hitting it. Unfortunately, when I got in to work that morning, I inadvertently clicked it that extra turn to ‘park’ and strolled into the office, oblivious to the fact that the lights were still on.

Now, you may think me a total dickhead upon reading the above, but in my defence, the click from ‘lock’ to ‘park’ is easily done - too easily I think. When you turn it from ‘off’ to ‘on’, you have to press the key in a bit as well as turn it, but there is no such extra manoeuvre required to put it from ‘lock’ to ‘park’ - why the f*ck not?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! And it’s such a tiny click as well, not as if you have to turn it a whole quarter turn - it’s about two millimeters difference! What bumhole designed that?!?!?!?!?!

Now back to today….

I get to my bike, pop the helmet and gloves on the floor, go to the bike, pop the keys in the ignition and…..

…..you guessed it!

…..nothing….

….nada, nowt, zip…….oh you get the idea!

There is no current to the ignition, so I’m assuming I have done the same thing again.

What a complete toooooooooool!!!!!!!

Again, fortunately, dear, lovely father was able to come and pick me up, and I am hoping that dear, lovely Tiffy is willing to charge my battery again.

Bizzarre thing is, I have had the bike for, what, two years now? And these are the only times I have done this….unless I did it for short periods before.

Sigh. Come the weekend, I am going to do two things:

1. Go to Barney’s Superbikes, and see if there is any way to deactivate that bloody ‘park’ setting on the bike, so I don’t make the same mistake again.

2. Go and buy a bloody battery charger!!!!

Rediscovering my love of motorbiking…..  0

Posted on October 27th, 2008. About Motorbiking, Scouting.

…or discovering that I like it more than I originally thought!

So it was the Junior Great South Run yesterday, and four of my Scouts were taking part - Simon, Paul, Harry and Henry.

…at least I hope it was just four, otherwise I missed one (or more) of them entirely!

I was chatting to Max (that’s Harry’s big brother and one of my ex-scouts) on MSN the other day, and mentioned that I wanted to splash the cash on a pair of leather trousers for the motorbike. I managed to persuade him and Steve (that’s Max’s soon-to-be stepdad, and confirmed motorcycle nutter) to come with me to help me pick out a pair. Actually, it wasn’t really persuasion - I asked and they both said yes…I suspect it does not take much arm-twisting to get them to jump on the bike…

I think on Thursday, I spoke to Max again on MSN. The conversation started like this:

Max: DAVEEEEEEE!

Me: MAAAAAAAAAX!

[this is the standard greeting, or a variation thereof]

Max: You insured to take pillion?

Me: Ummmmmm…..yes, but I’ve never actually taken one before.

Max: Well, that’s gonna change on Saturday…

Turns out that Steve was picking up his son in Portsmouth on the way to the run, so for the better part of the day, Max was going to be my passenger. My pillion experience to that point was ferrying a couple of scouts along a track to a campsite (at about 3 mph, and not both at the same time I hasten to add!) and back when I was 14-15 and snuck the Honda Express out of the shed for a sneaky ride round Tanners Lane with my mates taking turns on the back. On the latter occasion I ended up in a rather deep ditch, but my trepidation at taking pillion was more from my relative lack of experience riding the Bandit at all, even on my own. Often was the time when I stepped out the door on the way to work, walking past the bike thinking to myself “I don’t deserve to have you…” - I underuse that bike so much, riding it only in fits and starts, pretty much when the weather is nice…and I can be bothered.

I was looking forward to it though - I always said to myself that I wanted to learn to take pillion, and when I did, I wanted it to be someone light! This didn’t stop me pooing myself at the prospect of having someone else’s life in my hands though.

So the first part of Saturday morning went pretty much like this: I woke up late (even with a wake up call from Max) and crammed some breakfast down before jumping on the bike and heading round to their place to give Natasha (that’s Max and Harry’s mum) my camera to take in the car while I followed Steve and Max into Portsmouth via Portsdown Hill (presumably just because it’s more fun going that way). I was quite pleased with myself that I was able to keep up, but with hindsight I think Steve was taking it veeeeeery easy for me. I should point out at this stage that he rides a Suzuki GSX-R 1000 - one of those pure evil-looking all-black mothers. Every time I drop a letter off to them I have to pause outside their house and admire it for a few minutes.

We got to Fratton, where he picked up his son, and then Max jumped on my bike for the trip down to Southsea seafront. Like I said, I am not the most experienced (nor confident) rider ever, and when Max got on the back, I felt like I was back doing my Direct Access Course - the bike seemed impossibly heavy and alien to me. I pulled away ok, but when I got to the T-junction at the end of the road and tried to pull away from there, I completely misjudged it and nearly dropped the bike, and Max along with it!

I’m glad I was wearing a helmet, solely because it meant that nobody could see the strong shade of scarlet my face had just gone.

“Sorry!” I shouted back to my passenger. Not the best of starts to my pillion carrying career!

After that initial mishap, the rest of the journey was very uneventful. I was so tense after that, I was riding as if I had an examiner behind me. Every action was done mechanically and with full consciousness - in case that last sentence doesn’t make any sense, I mean that usually, once you’ve gotten used to riding, many of the things you do become automatic, or subconscious. Not for this ride - I was aware of every little thing that I was doing.

So we made it to Southsea seafront and parked the bikes up….phew! First time and only one minor (albeit very embarrassing) mishap.

So we had a nice cup of tea in a little tea hut place, before heading over to the run. I shall post about the run (or preferably, get one of the participants to post about it), but should give a well-done to the lads for taking part. Photos will go up soon. I got the usual ribbing from a couple of people about taking part in the charity mile run that takes place after the Junior run. One day I’m going to actually enter to shut them up. I remember saying the same thing last year though…

So, after finding the Scouts and taking their photo, we went back to the bikes, said goodbye to Harry and Natasha, and headed on up to J&S in Waterlooville to buy some leathers. I was following Steve, and he likes to filter. I don’t usually, but obviously had to to keep up with him, and the traffic was very slow going anyway, so it wasn’t so bad. He was doing it very sensibly too, not like a lot of the twats you see on the road, belting down the gap between cars - this was all very slow and sensible, measured filtering.

I was worried, before I left the house, about stopping the bike with a pillion - the added weight being a problem when I am holding the bike up at a stop. No problem at all - Max had been on many a bike trip as pillion, and obviously knew what he was doing, and there was no extra effort required to hold the bike up. After a while, once we were moving, I could have forgotten he was there, and I’d simply put on 9 stone in weight.

We took the motorway route up, and it was very choppy, so I held back (more than usual) and lost Steve before we’d left the M275. Actually, I could still see him as he took the eastbound exit, but he was a very small dot, and by the time I got onto the M27, he was gone…

He was nice to enough to wait for me once he’d gotten off the A3(M) though, which was handy, as I’d completely forgotten where J&S was!

I’ve been wanting to buy some more protective trousers for a while now, as I normally ride in jeans, and as soon as I get over a certain speed, I start to fixate upon the fact that my legs are seriously unprotected in the event of an off. I own a pair of armoured waterproof overtrousers, but they are so bulky I can hardly move in them. I wanted leather too, solely because it’s cool (not temperature cool - Fonzy cool), and mainly black. I didn’t want anything too racing-oriented, as I ride a rather sedate Bandit 600, and it would have looked silly. I ended up with a nice pair of Frank Thomas leather trousers for £89. I now need to buy some braces to keep the damn things up! Which reminds me, I must go have a look on ebay to see how my bid is doing…

….still winning, with a day and 4 hours to go - cool!

So, job done, mission accomplished, and a set of love handles purchased as well for good measure. Where to now? I wasn’t sure if Steve was intending to go for a ride or not, but he did as it turns out. This suited me fine, as I was starting to relax and get used to riding with Max on the back, and wanted to get a bit more experience. I think the default position of those guys is to squeeze the most out of every ride they go on, judging by the way they talked - it was not a case of “shall we go for a ride before going home?” but rather “where shall we go for a ride?”.

First port of call was Monster Micks at the top of Portsdown Hill for a burger and a cup of tea.

Now, if there’s one place in the area where you say to yourself “don’t stall, don’t stall, don’t stall” over and over again, its at Micks - it’s where all the bikers go for a cup of tea, and there are some serious machines up there, and some serious bikers.

So what do I go and do, while trying to manouevre the bike into a space?

You guessed it!

Twice!!!

…what a complete tool. As it turned out, I was in second gear as I edged it forward, which was why I stalled - not because I’m utterly useless! Well, not realising you’re in second is pretty useless…

So, cup of tea and a burger later, and its up to Loomies. This is another bikers haunt on the crossroads of the A32 and A272, two very popular biking roads (bendy). I’ve never been there before, but I suspect I shall be going there again more often. The trip up was basically me trying to keep up with Steve, failing as he nips past a car in front then opens up to disappear on the forward horizon, sighting him again as he slows down to let me catch up, even pass him at one point. The passing thing was just so he could follow it up by whizzing past me, popping a wheelie as he goes.

Nutter.

All this time I was still getting a feel for riding with pillion. It’s quite logical really I suppose - the extra weight means that you accelerate and brake more slowly (which means you need to leave more response time), but also, the extra weight (and probably because the weight is so high on the bike) causes you to turn more slowly as well, or requires more effort to lean it into a turn (inertia and all that). I don’t know if I’m talking crap or not, but once I started getting used to it, I noticed that riding with pillion makes for a smoother ride than when you’re alone.

The ride up to Loomie’s was a great experience, by the time I got near, I already felt 1000% more comfortable with Max on the back than I did when I started.

That was to be the end of my pillion practise though. While at Loomie’s, watching a disturbing compilation of motorcycle, car, then skiing crashes on Eurosport, Steve phoned up Natasha, and she came up to join us (Harry was at his dads by now).

While we were waiting, I experienced another new one…trying to go to the loo in leathers.

Not easy! *shhhh - number 2*

Ahem. Anyway, Max (bless him) couldn’t see bugger all on the back of my bike except for the back of my head. You see, the pillion seat on my Bandit is only about an inch or two higher than the front seat, whereas on a Gixxer (Natasha has a GSX-R 750) the difference is more like eight to ten inches. Added to which Natasha is shorter than Max and I am a bit taller, so he decided to abandon his embargo on going on the back of his mums bike (forgot the reasons for that one), and actually enjoy a view for the remainder of the rideout. I think also that I was a bit slow for his tastes…

As it happened, this turned out to be a good thing for all concerned, including me. Don’t misunderstand me, I was more than happy to take Max on the back of mine, but getting the bike back to myself at that particular moment was a real eye opener. Because I’d gotten used to the slower action of the bike with a passenger on it, once that weight was lifted from the bike, I found my performance went up several notches. I felt more confident to try to keep up with the other two (no easier to do now - Natasha is as much of a loon as Steve!….well, maybe not quite as much, going by some of the stories they have told me), keeping more speed on bends, leaning it over more, going past cars when I would have held back previously. Everything was faster than I had previously gone - it was seriously cool!

To put this in context, I have not turned into a competent speed star or anything - I’m quite sure they were both going slower than usual so I could keep up, and I still got left behind a few times (although they always let me catch up again, bless them). I’m quite lucky in that I don’t suffer from pridefulness like that - they would get past a couple of cars on a long straight, and my first response is not to keep up with them at all costs, but rather to gauge the distance and risk, and choose for myself whether to go or to wait. Another one of those lessons from Andy at Paragon (where I learned to ride) - “always ride for yourself”, meaning never assume that the guy in front of you has considered if you can get through the gap with him when he goes.

Besides, there really is no point getting involved in a pissing contest with a pair of Gixxers when your on a Bandit!

Ooops - I neglected to mention where we went from Loomie’s - sorry!

We took the west bound stretch of the A272 towards Winchester, then down one junction of the M3 and along the Twyford / Bishops Waltham road, through Wickham and along the A32 towards Fareham. Strangely (I thought at the time) we got back on the M27 at Junction 10, and off again at J11, but when we got to the traffic lights at J11, Steve shouted “CUP OF TEA UP THE HILL?” at me. Quick thumbs up in response!

So, quick cup of tea later, and we heading home. Not straight home of course (love it!), but down the back of the hill and along the A32 again. Back to their place for my camera, which I manage to stuff down the front of my jacket along with my jeans, and then home. It was approaching 19:00 by this point (I think - I completely lost track of time!), so 10 hours and 100 miles later, the days riding was done.

What a great day! Thanks to my riding companions, from whom I learned a hell of a lot trying to keep up with, and especially to Max, for trusting me to take him on the back of my bike. I feel like my riding has taken a big step forward because of this day, bigger probably than any time since I passed my DAS. And the enjoyment factor has skyrocketed again. Since Collin stopped riding I have not had a regular riding companion (and we never went out a great deal when he was riding unfortunately, except for maybe in the first year), so it has been a means to an end for the past x months, not a source of enjoyment. This day’s riding has changed my perspective, and I now look forward to getting on it again. I hope this feeling lasts now - the winter is looming, and I’m a complete pussy when it comes to the cold…

So, in one day I top my previous speed record (on A Roads, anyway - my speedo was out of whack when I bought the bike, and Collin maintains I was doing 90 down the motorway), filter past more traffic and overtake more moving cars than I have in my whole life previously…and had a whole load of fun doing it.

I look forward to the next rideout, and hope I wasn’t too slow to be invited out again!

Actually, Natasha did mention a possible rideout during half term week, depending on the weather, so I sweet-talked my boss last week, and am now keeping m fingers crossed for some sunshine.

Oh, and this morning……took my bike to work…

Ill……  1

Posted on October 22nd, 2008. About Motorbiking, Random Stuff, Scouting.

Well, I have spent the day off sick, having spent the previous four days coughing incessantly - guess I picked up a chest infection or a bit of a cold. I went into work yesterday feeling like poo, and when I had taken care of the essential bits of work that couldn’t wait, I came home again. It seemed to get worse last night, but was a bit better by lunchtime today.

I put it down to a combination of things. Firstly, I developed a bit of a sniffle on Wednesday anyway, but then spent the majority of Thursday at Alton Towers, screaming at the top of my voice. I hasten to add that the screams were solely for comedic effect, and not out of terror or anything like that - it was all put on…..except for a couple on Spinball Whizzer.

So I came back hoarse as…..well, a horse, and Saturday night was spent out in the New Forest, awake until 4am on a very damp and misty night, waiting for Scouts to turn up so we could beat them up on a Gladiators-style bouncy castle joust thingy. This was, of course for the District Acorn nighthike competition, which was a total and utter cock up. Apart from being undermanned and underplanned (in the absence of an Assistant District Commisioner for Scouts, the Explorers run it, and don’t seem to want to get the Scout Section involved in any planning, and only ask for them to run bases if there are not enough Explorers to do it), one of the bases set up at the wrong car park, which I suspect was a contributing factor in at least one of my teams getting lost on route to base 4, and skipping that base entirely. As it turned out, not one team actually finished the entire route, and only two teams managed to attempt all the bases. Fortunately the other team from my Troop was one of those two, and picked up second place. So that’s a trophy every event since I started (alternating first and second place since 2001). I’m sure there are posts from previous comps on here….

So, being stuck on a base until 4am didn’t help the cough, and I spent the next three days with it worsening. Fortunately, it limited itself to a cough and bungedupded-ness - no fever to speak of, no grotty aches and pains (touch wood), and a headache from all the bouncing around of my brain each time I coughed…oh, and sore ribs for the same reason. Could have been worse…

Anyway, like I said, I started to feel better late this morning, and spent the morning in bed eating toast and watching the Princess Bride - seems to have become a recuperation DVD that one - ‘not just your basic, average, everyday, ordinary, run-of-the-mill, ho-hum fairy tale. Anyway, I’m a great believer that once you start to get over the worst of a cold, fresh air is the best thing for it - especially when the sun is shining. Much better than sitting in the stale, germ-infested air you’ve been breathing for the last twenty four hours.

So I washed my bike.

For the first time this year……

Nice day for it though!

Southampton Guildhall Sucks!  0

Posted on October 18th, 2008. About Music.

…but I had a great time last night anyway.

Went to see Level 42 for the second time. Last year was at the Portsmouth Guildhall, and it sounded infinitely better. Oh well, it didn’t spoil the night really.

The support act were amazing. They are called ‘The Mercurymen’, and you can get some of their stuff for free here.

If you like acoustic stuff (Del Amitri, The Eagles, James Taylor) give them a listen. I’ve got this thing about well-amplified acoustic guitars - they just sound amazing to my ears, and when it is a twelve string guitar….well that is almost as good as it gets to me. And their voices were superb - not one bum note the whole set.

As soon as their set had finished, I rushed out to the merch stall to buy a copy of their album - I’m listening to it right now as I type this as it happens…excellent stuff.

The only thing that bugs me about gigs is the amount of people who carry on conversations while the support act is playing. I can understand if they are complete crap, but these guys were excellent, yet people were talking away like they were at a pub and a jukebox was playing. Philistines!

Level 42 were great as always, they just didn’t sound as good as they did last year. And they knew it too - Mark kept apologising for the sound, and once even said ‘I don’t know why we’re even playing here to be honest!’. So hopefully they will be at a better venue next year (or 2010, I think he said). Because I am definitely going to see them again, and again, and again…….!

Another great band discovered last night then - I am going through an incredibly purple patch musically these past couple of years - think I’ll write an entry about it….in January probably, the rate at which I use this place!

Reinforced another stereotype last night as well - white people really do have no rhythm! Well, Level 42 fans don’t anyway!

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