Three of a Kind

Couldn't resist this one - I think it's the only time I have had three bikes on the premises at the same time.

I think they look rather fine. Like having a good workshop: a tool for every occasion.

Pan No Nore

Finally, the Pan has been collected by a courier service and has gone back North to Porridgeland, where it started its earthly career in the keeping of Strathclyde's finest.



I felt sorry for the buyer. He clearly wanted the bike as soon as possible, and paid me straight away by Paypal the night the auction ended, but it has taken his chosen courier company until now to collect it. That's almost a fortnight. Admittedly the Bank Holiday weekend came in between, but they seem to have strung him along with feeble excuses and broken promises and he has been most apologetic to me. I told him that it would be fair to give me at least a day's notice of when they were arriving, so that I could arrange to be home. In the end, they told him it would be today, so I stayed in all day in anticipation. Eventually, I got a call at 3 pm, telling me that the driver was only two miles away but couldn't find me. Well, that would be why we told you to phone first, wouldn't it? You see, we live here and we know that your satnav will take you to the wrong junction, and that you will end up asking your way in the pub. It's happened to every courier for the last 20 years, so we tried to make things easier for you. But you know best.

The van driver didn't seem to know much about bikes (he even wanted me to ride the bike up the ramp into the van, which I politely declined on insurance grounds), but he strapped it down and went on his way. He had another two to collect before returning North, and I'm pretty sure they weren't going to fit in the space he had left. I hope my buyer gets his bike undamaged.

Normally at this point there would be a small amount of moisture in the corner of one eye. Not with this bike. I have said this before, but although it was immensely capable and magnificently comfortable and speedy, I never actually loved it. I am far more upset by what the sale represents (the final abandonment of our plans to go round Europe together, following Anna's illness) than the loss of the bike. Anna was sorrier to see it go than I was, and for this reason.

But some chap in the Edinburgh region is getting a heck of a bargain, and a fantastic bike to tour on. I wish him well.

Down the Pan

Well, the Pan is sold. It has been on an eBay auction which ended last night. There seemed to be a lot of interest, with over 60 people watching it and lots of enquiries, and the bids came close to the reserve price quite early on, but there was no last-minute rush and at the end there were only two bidders, both of whom had been in touch before. One guy bid in the last 20 seconds, reached reserve and it was sold.

I now have full payment in my Paypal account, which is good in one way, but a hassle in another. For one thing, Paypal have creamed off about 4% of the payment in fees, so that although the price it sold for meant I was better off than if I had part-exed the bike, after the fees I am slightly worse off. For another, the large payment means that Paypal have put a restriction on my account (quoting anti-money-laundering regulations) and I have to go through a few hoops with numbers on bank statements and the like before I can withdraw the money. (There is also the haunting spectre of Paypal Chargebacks, which I had never heard of until Paypal told me they were still possible, even though the guy had paid in full, and which will no doubt cause a bit of anxiety until 120 days have passed and a chargeback is no longer possible.)

The White Rhino is now waiting to be picked up by a courier and whisked off back to the frozen North, whence it came. The name comes from its appearance, which is stylishly brutal, a bit like one of those white plastic soldiers in that space film, and partly from a phrase in Bike magazine which stuck in the mind: a bike they had on test was so fast "it was like a charging rhinoceros with a spear up its bum."

I'll be sorry to see it go, in a way, but I have really developed no affection for it, merely a lot of respect for its capabilities. I've had bosses like that: great respect for what they do, but no feelings of friendship. In this it is, I think, unique for me: with all the other bikes I have owned, I have formed some kind of emotional attachment. Some have been genuine affection, as with a faithful dog; others have been frustration. But there was always a feeling of a kind of bond. The Honda always sat there, as efficient as a washing-machine, but about as thrilling.

So, a last shot of the Pan:



And a Star Wars Trooper, for comparison:

eBayitis

n, medical condition, characterised by having an item for auction on a famous auction site, accompanied by the obsessive desire to check one's visitor numbers, bids and watchers every twenty seconds during waking hours.

There was over a week between agreeing to purchase the Bonneville and being able to collect it. It needs one or two things doing to it in the workshop before sale, and as it is presently untaxed, the dealer is taxing it for me, and it makes sense to wait until 1 April so that I get the benefit of a full month for my £66.

This waiting period of about ten days gave me a chance to put the Pan on eBay and see if I could get a better price for it there than the part-exchange price the dealer was offering. I know what price I have to get in order to make it worthwhile selling privately, so that is my reserve price, and I have put an optimistic Buy It Now price on as well. It attracted several bids within 24 hours of the auction start, which is a good sign, and there are currently 43 people watching it and one guy who seems to be serious, asking pertinent questions and requesting more photos.

But it's ruining my ability to do anything else with my life. Every time I pass the room where the laptop is, I have to just check one more time. The auction has reached the point where, after a few lowish early bids, it has gone quiet. With the number of people watching, I expect it to get lively in the last hour or so, but right now absolutely nothing is happening. But I keep checking, just to be sure.

Ebay, swallower of people's lives.

Decision Time

Well, Anna and I have had a pleasant lunch and done a bit of gardening together, and we have had a chat. I didn't know how I was going to approach this, so I did my usual thing of blurting it out.

She's fine about it. She doesn't like the idea of never riding on the back of the bike again, but she is realistic enough to know that it isn't likely to happen. Certainly not the long-distance South-of-France-and-back trips that we were planning. She's aware that the bike is hardly being used and is slowly deteriorating, and that Spring is a good time to be selling.

So we have agreed: the Pan will be sold, and will be replaced with something more appropriate for my (and our) needs. I will make sure that any replacement has a decent pillion seat, so that if she does fancy a whizz round the County it will be possible, even if not in the armchair-like comfort of the Pan's generous rear seat.

I'm very relieved, to be honest. I've been aware of the Pan sitting reproachfully at the back of the house, with no reason for me to take it out that the XT couldn't fulfil more economically and easily, for a few months now, and wondered how to resolve it.

So, onwards and upwards. What's next, I wonder?

Here's a rare one of them both together, just for the record (click for big):

And thinking ...

It may be time for a reconfiguration of the bike fleet. This post is a kind of thinking-aloud exercise, so bear with me.

Currently, I have:

• Yamaha XT trailbike
• Honda ST1300 Pan European.

The XT has had a lot of work put into it (by me) and is now in a good state of repair, apparently reliable (touch wood) and a whole heap of fun to ride. It has a topcase and its utility ranges from simple rides out for fun to minor shopping expeditions, and longer journeys up to 100 miles or so. If I get another job (touch wood again) it will be my daily hack, and it's economical to run. I don't think I will ever sell it - it's friendly and easy to own, a real jump-on-it-and-ride machine, and if I ever find I have something better for the role of daily driver, I will take it off the road and treat it to a full restoration.

The Pan is seemingly 100% reliable and awesomely capable of long, fast journeys, where it is comfortable and protects well from wind and weather. As well as being at home on motorways, I have to admit it is a total hoot on A-roads too, where 125bhp makes other traffic a minor inconvenience. It's also the best bike I have ever had for pillion comfort. The problem is that what it is good at are the things I don't really need. Anna's back problem means that it is unlikely we will ever fulfil the dream of a continental tour, or even enjoy a day trip round Pembrokeshire. And my experience of riding to Denmark and back last year has taught me that if I ever do that kind of thing again, it will be slower and more thoughtful, taking time to enjoy the scenery.

Riding through Germany at 120 was a blast (in both senses), but I later realised that I had only spoken to two Germans in the entire trip, and both of them were MacDonalds' employees. I have a burning desire to do a lot more travelling before I get too old, and doing it at warp speed on the Euromotorway network is not the way I want to do it.

I think the Pan has got to go. I wouldn't have any problem with selling it on. As I have written here before, I admire and respect its capabilities, but I haven't formed any kind of emotional attachment to it. It's a machine which is very good at what it does, but then so is my dishwasher. It's also mechanically 100%, which is ironically a bonus, as I wouldn't sell anything that I had doubts about to a private seller. But there is one huge downside to moving it on: Anna. I sold the Ducati to get the Pan (and boy, was that Ducati a nice bike!), with the sole purpose of a two-up trip to France in 2009. That didn't happen, but while I have the Pan the theoretical possibility remains. Selling it would be tantamount to saying the holiday plans are off, and from here on I will be riding on my own. I'm not sure she is ready for that.

Replacements for the Pan? Well, it would have to be different enough from the XT to avoid duplicating capabilities. Good for longish distances, comfy, reliable, able to maintain a cruising speed of 70-80 mph or so. Not too heavy or unwieldy. Room for some luggage and a place to strap on a tent and sleeping bag. Owner-maintainable, without massive body plastics or over-complex technology. Must have character and a bit of 'soul'.

I'm working on a shortlist. And, after a trip to the local bike shop yesterday, there may be some surprising candidates on it.

More when I've had more time to think. Any observations welcome in the comments.

Mechanisms

I love 'em.

After giving the Pan a good clean a few days ago, I found I couldn't close one of the panniers. (These are integrated into the bike's design, not an aftermarket add-on, and are very well made and waterproof. The bike looks very odd without them on.) So I took off the locking mechanism to see what was wrong. What was wrong was 6½ years and 45,000 miles of muck and damp, leading to a bit of corrosion in the works. The bars that clasp the lid closed were stuck in the 'closed' position.

I cleaned it all up wth wire wool and contact cleaner, and put it all back together with machine oil and a little dab of grease where it looked like a good idea. It now works as good as new, which is rather satisfying. The mechanism itself it a minor work of art. It works in two dimensions, so imagine that the pannier is on the bike, and the bike is North. From a 90° movement of the handle, one of the clasps moves SE for about 1cm, then turns due S. It moves far enough to get past the locking bar in the lid, and then moves about 1cm W to get behind it. Further movement of the handle then pulls the clasp back due N to clamp the lid tightly shut, and then the last bit of movement goes over-centre somehow so that it stays there. Meanwhile, the clasp at the other end is doing the same in mirror-image. It achieves all this with half a dozen moving parts, mainly plates with curved slots in them and pins that locate in other similar plates , to achieve the complex movement. I cannot comprehend the brain of a person that could design something so neat and efficient. And that's just a minor component of the luggage system: comparatively very low-tech.

Once I got it moving properly and with a bit of oil on the moving/sliding parts, I stood and played with the movement for a good five minutes. I'm a bit sad like that.

There's a good rule that says if one part goes, the other won't be far behind, so my next job will be to dismantle the other pannier mechanism and do the same. I intend to take some photographs and then put them on an owners' forum that I visit, for the benefit of anyone else who has the same problem. The biking community tends to do things like that, which is one of the reasons I like being in it.

Sparkly, no?

Today has been glorious. After quite a bit or rain overnight, today has been clear, sunny and (once you get out and start working) quite warm. An ideal day to clean two grubby bikes.

I've pressure-washed them both, then sprayed with special bike cleaner, then hosed again, and then - shock, horror - gave them both a coat of wax polish. Yes, even the XT. With the Honda I went one stage further and tarted up the black bits with some Simoniz black wax. Then I lubed all the bits than need lubing, and sprayed the vulnerable bits of them both with the wonderfully-named Muc-Off Motorcycle Protectant.

I've taken a photo, as I don't think I've had both bikes as clean as this - together - for a long time, and I doubt it will happen again this millennium.



An adolescent male of the species Trailbikius yamahorensis and an adult male Ceratotherium simum, grazing peacefully together in their natural habitat.

Honda quality

It's bright but bitingly cold here, and not the day for a pleasure ride, but I passed the Honda sitting on the back drive and felt a little pity. It has been motionless there, in rain and snow and ice, since before Christmas, while I have been fixing, riding and generally enjoying the XT. So I rolled it out of its niche between the wall and the garden table and propped it up in the sun. I gave it a wipe down and then inserted the key and pressed the starter.

Click - whirrrrrrrrrr.

With a Honda V4, the 'whirr' is not the sound of a knackered starter - it's the engine running. It whistles a bit like a turbine. The engine started in the blink of an eye, so I rode it to the front of the house and left it idling for five minutes, until it was properly warm. I gave it a quick healthcheck in the meantime - everything still works - and then shut it down. The brake discs have a little surface rust and the whole thing needs a good wash down, but otherwise it's good to go.

I wonder what the forecast is for tomorrow?

UPDATE: I couldn't resist. Anna wanted a daily paper and was busy. I wanted a few minutes me-time and wasn't busy. So I hopped on the Pan and went in search of a Times. The bike felt a little stiff after such a long time idle, but I warmed it up and then let rip on the A40 for a while, taking it to 8,000 rpm through the gears and trying out some hard braking. All good. As it says in the side-bar, I admire and respect this bike. It is awesomely good at what it does.

Friday 13th survived once again

Wow, what a ride home last night! To start with, torrential rain, which had wet the inside of my visor when I was walking to the bike from my office. Not in itself a problem, I might add, but then there were gusty winds up to, acording to the BBC, 85 mph. The Honda is the worst bike I have ever had for reacting to side-winds (it's all that weather-cheating plastic), so that made the ride a little more entertaining. Then, of course, it was dark, and so visibility was a real problem. I ride home along the A40, which is busy at that time of night with commuters and ferry traffic, and I was facing a constant stream of headlights. Normally, the visor will clear of raindrops if you can get up to a decent speed. Self-cleaning seems to happen at about 55-60 mph, but there was no hope of achieving that last night. So I was wiping the visor constantly, but to no avail, because the worst of the water drops were on the inside. Every approaching light was refracted into a hundred small points of light across my area of vision, which gave me no chance to adapt my eyes to see the detail of the darker bits. And, of course, the dark bits are where the hazards lie.

After all the rain of the afternoon, the road was covered in water, and in places the puddles spread from the verges to meet in the middle - and this is the A40, remember, the main road into West Wales. I tried to travel in the centre of the road to avoid plunging into deep water, but that put me directly in line with the bow-waves thrown up by vehicles travelling the other way. It was almost comic, like having buckets of water thrown over you. There was so much spray being thrown up by the car tyres that all cars were invisible below the window-line.

It was, you might say, conducive to concentration. In fact, I would say that it was the worst conditions I have ever ridden in. Colleagues can't believe that a sane human being (or even me) would want to ride a bike in weather like this. I was constantly fending off comments all day:

Bet you're not on the bike today, har har.
But of course.
Mad.
Yup.

OK, it was a bit of a challenge, but then physical challenges are quite rare these days, what will all the safety rules and the we-must-eliminate-all-risk lobby. I admit it, I enjoyed it.

And, of course, if I had gone to work in the Mundaneo, I wouldn't be writing this.