As I sit here, waiting for my molten-hot Turkish coffee to cool to a temperature that won't induce third degree burns, I'm watching my teenage years ride past. More accurately, it's the smell of the passing two-wheeled scenery in the fluorescent lights from the restaurants that's most evocative. Mingled with the coffee and the heavy... Continue Reading →
It's 30 degrees in the shade here in Turkey, and they don't ride in leathers. They don't ride much in the way of big bikes either. The largest I've seen has been a lone R1200GS. The rest? Much, much smaller. 125 is the norm, with everything from obscure Chinese reverse-engineered CG125s to the occasional Jawa.... Continue Reading →
The airless reception area with its cheerful, exhortative corporate posters made me think of communist Russia. Dark wood. Grey, worn carpet. Grey fluorescent lights. Every so often, there would be a sharp, electronic bleep and the door would get pushed open. A grey-suited figure would scuttle past and the door, on its spring, would creak... Continue Reading →
The GS has been playing up for a while. Matt and Stuart at North Oxford Garage have been fantastic - and patient - trying to diagnose an intermittent but vicious electrical problem where the bike simply refuses to start. It’ll crank - for hours - but won’t fire. It’s been back three times in all,... Continue Reading →
You can tell it's spring. All the little parking gaps in Stow that are empty in the winter now host Solvol-gleamed motorcycles. The creak of leathers is almost audible as sportsbike riders mix it with the righteous Harley brethren in the mean streets and tea shops. Today, I headed up to Stow, as ever, through... Continue Reading →
The days are, finally, lengthening. That seemed as good an excuse as any to drag the Ural from under its cover and clack-zag though the staggered web of lanes to Bibury. At this time of year the coach loads of travel-myopic, Bath-Stonehenge-Bibury-Shakespeare n' Stratford-inna-day tourists are still tucked up and posting acid on TripAdvisor. Instead,... Continue Reading →
Today was the sort of bone-cold day that aches by the time you've ridden five miles. But so what? I was out on the Ural, not (as I have far too often been lately) stabbing with increasing irritability at my laptop keyboard in the office, fretting about clients, deadlines, the state of the nation. It... Continue Reading →
Ever since my first evensong as a chorister, aged 6, I've loved the words of the third collect: Lighten our darkness, we beseech thee O Lord; and by thy great mercy defend us from all perils and dangers of this night; for the love of thy only Son our Saviour Jesus Christ. As I'm sat,... Continue Reading →
Today appears to be summer - so time to get out in the lanes of West Oxfordshire and do a bit of Uralling with a fellow Uralist down from The Wirral for the weekend.
Last night was the last Monday in June. To anyone on two wheels that means one thing - Cassington. If you have any motorcycling soul, you'll be there to inhale deep of two-stroke oil, 20w50, petrol and the aromatic scent of warm, well-ridden old bikes. If you have any charitable soul, you'll drop a few... Continue Reading →
MMC Musings 