SPRING(ER)

You wouldn’t know it from the temperatures, but according to the plants, it’s spring. The wind chill is still enough to have sensible bikers wearing multiple layers of Gore-Tex, and longing for heated gloves or grips, but the scenery is advertising longer days, warmer weather, and enticing roads.

Of course, there's still nowhere to go, really. Pubs are not allowed to open yet. Take away is the only option. On a bike, that's an interesting proposition, what with buff (mask), helmet and lack of spill-proof cupholders. I've had to find other objectives around which to structure rides. I mean, it's not that I NEED a destination or a purpose, but I do need to somehow decide in which direction to head.

The daffodils are nodding their heads, towering as they do over all the other early spring flowers. So, I thought I’d celebrate this with a form of Easter egg / scavenger hunt. That is, I decided to see how many types of daffodils, different blossoms and other signs of spring I could spot from the saddle. To make it interesting, I couldn’t count anything deliberately planted. Yeah, Easter egg hunt sounds better.

This was actually surprisingly fun, and not nearly as distracting as I expected it to be.
Next time, I probably won’t feel the need stick to roads I know as well as the back of my glove.

BACK IN THE SADDLE AGAIN

The UK has been on the receiving end of some Siberian weather. This happens every few years and brings the UK grinding to a halt because we’re really not used to those kinds of temperatures, or that much snow.

Vehicle batteries definitely aren’t equipped for it. My bike went from fine to flat. My car driving friends reported similar problems (not least because nobody can go anywhere, so they’re driving less than usual). Between various cases of self-isolating, it was a few weeks before I could coordinate a socially distanced jump start (I’m so glad I sprang for the extra-long cables, suddenly).

Oh, but it felt good to be back in the saddle again. The engine settled from a growl into a purr in fairly short order. The weather was obligingly spring like and mild, the crocuses and snowdrops were nodding approval from the verges.

After all the strange constrictions of this past winter, the freedom of doing something normal, of the wind in my face, the lean of the corners, the various scents of the road – from optimistic barbecues all the way through to heated metal laced with petrol, was sheer bliss.

I can’t wait to get back in the saddle again.

THE ZEN OF MOTORCYCLE CLEANING

It’s been said that cleaning anything is a thankless task because it just gets dirty again. This is true of most things, particularly motorcycles (that is, if you believe in actually riding them, which I do. After all, isn’t that kind of the point?).
Recently, I cleaned my bike, which I’ve been putting off. I washed it down, I got all the mud and dust and tar marks and dead bugs off (clearly, the bugs are hardier than I thought, as there are still a few around, despite the winter). I dried it off, I polished it up.

I went for a ride.

This is the thing about bikes, which doesn’t apply so much to cars. You can’t go for a spin first, because you can’t clean them until they’re cool. A bike’s engine is not conveniently encased in metal.
Of course, while I was riding, rain came out of a clear blue sky and there was mud. Naturally.
I need to clean it again. That’s not as disheartening as it sounds – there’s a certain zen state to cleaning a bike, when you’re not really thinking too hard about anything other than getting the tar mark off your exhaust.
So maybe cleaning things like motorcycles isn’t such a completely thankless task, even if it isn’t ever completely done.