HAY RIDE

Easter long weekend was generally overcast and pretty cool with odd moments of that sneaky rain that mists down – wet, but invisible and nearly unnoticeable. Nonetheless, there is no way a long weekend is not going to include a ride, so I wrapped up warmly (I guess that early April heatwave was summer, folks) and trundled off to a favourite pub, eyes streaming from wind, pollen and possibly also a drizzle; and the bike snarling at the bank holiday traffic, which was unusually full of idiots.  

At the pub, I parked up and the bike immediately defaulted to demure and beautiful. Every other customer stopped for a second look. Little do they realise that it’s an illusion, and actually, she growls.

I’ve mentioned the deviousness of the wind in finding ways past visor and glasses. Currently, both the plane trees and the rapeseed are in bloom, which tends to make me hayfeverish, and on overcast days, I’m hard pressed to know whether the moisture on my cheek is rain or just my eyes watering.

Roll on summer! (Preferably on two wheels).

ILL WINDS

April tends to the breezy, and riding tends to headwinds. Invariably, every tiny gust decides its main aim in life is to blow petals, pollen, insects, sand & grit around my visor and shades and into my eyes. Still, the weather is becoming rideable, and that's why we invented eyedrops, isn't it?

On Sunday, the weather was sunny, and I thought I'd join a HOG chapter run for the first time in a while. They were heading for Chichester, and it looked like a good run. Alas, a needy colleague decided to interrupt my weekend with laziness (seriously, he could have called the courier himself) and by the time I'd got that sorted out, it was too late to join the guys.

However, they say it's an ill wind, so I hopped on the bike anyway and headed out on the A40. There's a particularly nice squiggly bit of the A40 through the Ashton Rowant Reserve, where the road sidewinds down a hill through a wood. I wanted to get my knee down.

Then I split off onto the B4012 to Thame. How have I not met this road before!? It's a seriously fun road to ride. It's nice and smooth and twisty through the countryside and ends up converging into Thame at the same time as the B4445.

I rumbled lazily up and down the high street, searching for the entrance to the parking. Once I'd found that, I discovered that the council has been considerate and put a bike bay out the front of Rumseys, which I was planning to try. (Not that there are restrictions on Sundays, but these things are always good to know).

From the cafe

I recommend Rumseys. It's a chocolate shop as well as cafe, and hands out little coffee-chocolate buttons with your coffee. I like places that are this civilised.

En route home, I thought I'd try the A413 route Google suggested, but missed a fork and ended up coming home on the B4445 Chinnor Road through Bledlow Ridge, rejoining the A40 by the Hell Fire Caves. This is also a fun road, although it goes past rapeseed fields in full flower, which reminds me of damp dog, and gives me hayfever. (See above re April winds).

CLEAR SKY THUNDER

The forecast was for a bright and dry weekend, so I finally had the chance to spend a couple of hours giving the bike a much needed wash and polish. That took a couple of hours out of my Saturday, but she did look vastly better once she was, for the time being, mud-free.

Then, naturally, I had to go for a ride to show off (and undo) all that hard work.

One of the fun things about riding a sparkly clean Harley with stage 1 pipes is that all kinds of people hear, and stop and look. And sometimes smile.

And other times give me dity looks, of course, but I prefer to focus on the positive.

There was a dad with 2 small girls trying to point out the bike (as a more interesting alternative to the ice-cream van – if only in his opinion).

There were the usual couple of kids dragging parental hands and twisting to see better. They always make me glad I have an open face helmet so they can see me smile at them.

There was the duty manager at the coffee shop who told me about riding a scooter across Vietnam (rather him than me) and how much he wanted a bike like mine.

There are always a few older people who express a wistful admiration. Usually men, but this time a couple of ladies, too. (Big Grin).

And there was the security guard who told me how relaxed and comfortable I look riding into the parking on it…

Now all I need is the spring weather to last, and the pollen count to stay manageable. I’m not sure that’s mutually possible, but a girl can dream, no?

COLD CONTROL

The weather has turned suddenly mild, almost spring-like, for the first time in weeks, so of course the bike came out. She desperately needed a run.

I was expecting her to cough at me at least twice before growling and snarling at all this neglect (not least because I knew I needed to fill up).  I was happily wrong and she didn’t cough, just grumbled and rumbled smoothly to life, setting off all nearby car alarms. Tee-hee.

I was all dressed up in Gore-Tex (it’s not that mild yet) and thermal layers and winter boots and gloves, and I was hoping the ride would help my cold, and that my cold wouldn’t hinder my ride.

There are some distinctly specific challenges having a cold creates for a biker:

·      One, you’re more exposed than in a car, and your eyes (and probably nose) will be streaming regardless of your health.

·      Two, your movements affect those of the bike. Before you sneeze or cough, you’d better hope you’re aware of all unexpected potholes, diesel patches and other road debris.

·      Three, you’re wearing gloves and your pockets are closed. Tissues can’t be massively accessible without also fluttering down the road in your wake.

So as an exercise in bodily control and suppression of such usually involuntary items as the sneeze reflex, riding is right up there with the hardest of them, believe me.