Tuesday, 27 August 2013

A great day on the Bonneville Salt Flats.


A few months ago, I met motorcycle TV presenter Henry Cole at a motorcycle event in London.

“It is your fault I stayed at the Madonna Inn in California” were my opening words to him. A broad smile appeared on his face, as he clearly understood what I meant. Sort of kindred spirits, we seemed to hit it off, as we share a passion for long-distance motorcycle touring on custom motorcycles.

When I was planning my long motorcycle tour of the USA, I bought a series of videos of one of the TV series’ that Henry had made. Called ‘The World’s Greatest Motorcycle Rides’ these showed him riding some terrific roads in the USA on a motorcycle. I used one or two for ideas about where to ride for my own trip and this included staying at the Madonna Inn in California, hence my introductory words to Henry.

At that bike event in London when I met him, Henry mentioned he was going to go to the BUB Motorcycle Speed Trials on the Bonneville Salt Flats in August to ride a Brough Superior and to make a television programme about the racing. We compared dates and it soon became clear I would be nearby, at the end of a road trip around Colorado with Jackie and her family. “Why not come and join us on the salt?” asked Henry. Why not indeed. I had wanted to go to Bonneville for a long time, so flights were changed and a plan was hatched.

Having completed that Colorado road trip, a few days ago, Jackie and I caught a plane to Salt Lake City and we drove out to the town of Wendover, on the Utah / Nevada state line close to the Bonneville Speedway, and checked into a tacky hotel in this very strange town.

It wasn’t long before we headed out onto the salt flats and past the sign to the legendary place where so many land speed records have been set.


Driving on the salt immediately made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. There is something about the place that evokes a feeling that great things had happened here. In 1960, Donald Campbell ran (and crashed) at over 360mph here. Three years later, American Craig Breedlove drove jet thrust car ‘Spirit of America’ to a speed of 407mph here. Of course, in August 1967, almost exactly 46 years before I first stood on the salt, a chap called Burt Munro set an under 1,000cc world speed record on his modified 1920 Indian motorcycle. All stirring stuff and images flashed through my mind as I drove the 5 miles across the salt to the main pits.

I found Henry waiting in the pre-stage area. That big smile greeted me once again as we shook hands and Henry introduced me to the team. The motorcycle he was about to ride for the very first time on the salt stood there looking magnificent.



















Driven by a need provide safe conditions in which to ride, the organisation of the running of the speed trials is very well organised, but it does take a considerable time while waiting your turn to run. For a first-time rider like Henry, the anticipation grows and I could tell he was eager to get his first run accomplished. The bike he was riding is a combination of parts from the original 1952 750cc Brough Superior and more modern additions. With plenty of time to think about what lay ahead, Henry went from his normal jovial self to periods of quiet thought. I wouldn't say he was nervous, but he was certainly full of anticipation of what would be a tremendously exciting thing to do.






















After a considerable period of time, during which racers flashed past on the nearby salt tracks, the time had come for the group of riders to move from the pre-stage assembly area out to the main start point. Henry donned his helmet and quickly rode away for his first ever ride on salt. The rest of the team, including mechanics, his film crew and this by now unofficial team photographer, jumped into the support vehicles and followed in Henry’s tracks a couple of miles to the start area.




Bonneville Speedway has two parallel tracks. The shorter is the Mountain Course and is 5 miles long, comprising 2 miles for acceleration, the one measured speed mile and 2 miles for slowing down. The International Course is a total of 11 miles long, with 5 miles to accelerate, one measured speed mile and 4 miles to slow down. Henry was to run on the shorter Mountain course. Riders run in both directions and it is the average of the two runs that determines the overall speed. Henry was running in a brand new class for particular vintage machines (the class system seems very complex) and so was certain to set a new record time. The team were anticipating a speed of around 105mph for this first run.

Another longish wait ensued while other racers were on track, doing their out and return runs.

Anticipation levels grew as we waited in the surreal environment of the densely-packed salt pan. Keeping cool under the blazing sun is almost impossible. It soon became clear that there was a risk that Henry might not complete both of his runs before the course closed at 6pm. The delays between different groups of riders being out on the course, safety sweeps of the track to ensure no parts had fallen from machines running at speed, and the switching of track direction for return runs had all taken their time, and had taken their toll on the amount of available time left in the day.























Henry and the bikes mechanic, Sam, discussed some last minute thoughts and eventually, Henry’s time to make his first run grew nearer.



Finally, Henry was called forward and rode over to the start line.
























I don’t know what was going through Henry’s mind, but it must have been excitement mixed with some nerves. He was about to ride down one of the most famous speed tracks in the world on a vintage-class (and very expensive) motorcycle. Not only that, but he was being filmed doing so as well, so was under considerable pressure!























In a flash, that was it, Henry was gone. He set off across the salt with just a series of flags and a rev counter to guide him. We wouldn't know how he did for a few minutes until we drove back to the impound area where the riders gave to wait until their return run. Henry was there waiting for us, hands shaking as he described the run and how he felt. He had experienced a “tank-slapper” or speed wobble during that first run but being an experienced biker, he had slowly eased back on the throttle to regain control. His speed was 103.941 for the measured mile which was quite an accomplishment for a Bonneville first-timer.





















Just a few minutes later, Henry was instructed to ride down to the other end of the course again for his return run.



















No doubt slightly shaken by the tank-slapper and needing to keep the motorcycle in good shape for later runs during the week, Henry ran a slightly slower speed on the return, resulting in an average speed of just under 100mph for both legs.

It was quite a day. I need to say thanks to the Brough Superior team, especially owner Mark Upham for letting me share on a memorable experience for my first day at the legendary Bonneville Salt Flats. Of course, congratulations must go to Henry, who is now a world speed record holder. How cool is that!

Saturday, 24 August 2013

Announcement Coming..... Soon.


I hope all my readers are well and that you have all been enjoying the summer.

I have been a little quiet on my blog recently. What with travelling, helping sons with work, riding across Europe a couple of times and generally being busy, that hasn't left much time for blogging.

There is one thing I have been working on for a while, and this will be announced soon. It is motorcycle related, but you will have to wait a few more weeks before an announcement is made.

Until then, happy riding.......

Monday, 29 July 2013

Recommended Reading - A Dented Mind and a Harley-Davidson

I found a new motorcycling blog this morning that I would like to recommend.

Nigel Benson started writing his blog earlier this year about his quest to pass his motorcycle test and to then buy a Harley-Davidson. What is unusual is the reason why he has started riding again.

In February 2011, Nigel had a train accident that caused injury to his head and caused “dreadful tinnitus, not a ringing in an ear but a horrible loud screaming that fills my head every waking moment.”  Read more about his accident.

He discovered one of the ways he gets relief from this noise is when riding a motorcycle.

While still awaiting financial compensation from the accident, Nigel cannot yet buy the Harley-Davidson he so wants. It is an interesting story and another well written blog that some of my readers might want to follow.

You can find his blog here…
http://adentedmindandaharleydavidson.blogspot.co.uk/

Wednesday, 17 July 2013

Video of London to Rome Road Trip

This is my video of my recent road trip from London to Rome (and back again), for the Harley-Davidson 110th anniversary rally.

What a great trip that was. We rode in France, Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Austria and Italy, on some of the best roads in Europe.

Write up of the trip to follow.....

London to Rome H-D 110th Rally from Gary S France on Vimeo.

Tuesday, 9 July 2013

The new Indian motorcycle and Burt Munro

As many of my readers will know, I went to Invercargill in New Zealand recently and saw the Indian motorcycles that Burt Munro broke the land speed record with.  I also went to see his grave.

With the recent re-appearance of the Indian Motorcycle Company, a few videos have been made to celebrate the re-emergence of the Indian brand, and very good videos they are too.

Two further videos, about building a new Indian motorcycle to honour Burt Munro have just been released and the main one is filmed beautifully and is very stylish.  The second video is about the making of the first.

Here are both of them.....




Wednesday, 19 June 2013

Stelvio Pass

After many years of trying to imagine what it would be like, I finally rode the famous Stelvio Pass in northern Italy yesterday.  It was better than I imagined.



More pictures and a write up of my trip to Rome later.

Sunday, 2 June 2013

I couldn't help it. I had to buy it......

For some time now, I have wanted an old British motorcycle.

Today, I bought one.

A 1980 Triumph Bonneville....


It was a near 400 mile round trip to collect the bike, which I found on and bought through e-Bay.

Only 20,000 miles, in great condition and the current owner was 90% way through restoring the bike.

I am told the engine is sound and it certainly looks in good condition.  

I couldn't fire the engine up as the bike wiring isn't finished.  I hope it will be as good as I was told....

 


The bike is currently missing a few parts, like exhaust pipes, a chain.....


But, those things do not matter, for when I have finished doing what I have planned for the bike, it might not look like it does now!

No, I am not going to say what I have in mind....

Think of it as a winter project bike and you will be right!



This may take some time....... I will keep you posted......












Friday, 24 May 2013

Bonneville Motorcycle Speed Trials.

I have wanted to go to the Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah to see the Motorcycle Speed Trials for a while now.



Guess what? This year my wish is going to be granted. I will be there this August.

To stand on the salt, watch and listen to the bikes trying to break speed records will I am sure, be quite a thrill. I am looking forward to this!

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

Embarrassing episode - dropping a motorcycle in public

All motorcyclists have done it at least once.  Some have done it many times.  We have all dropped a motorcycle at some point.

You thought the side stand was done when you leaned the bike over.  It kept going.  Or, you simply lost balance.  Yes, we have all done it.

Picture courtesy of Larry, aka GalacticGS on www.advrider.com

But have you dropped your motorcycle in REALLY embarrassing circumstances?   I have and this is my story....

I was going to give a presentation to a few hundred people about the London 2012 Olympics.  It was a formal affair in a large central London hotel.   Even though I was wearing a business suit that day, we were experiencing a hot summer, so I decided to ride my Harley-Davidson Road King to the event.   It was only 20 or so miles, so I was looking forward to the ride.

I knew the hotel had its own car park, so I wouldn't need to leave my pride and joy on the street.

I arrived at the hotel in good time and rode down its long ramp to enter the underground parking garage.  I stopped at the booth to collect a ticket, but the attendant put head out of the little window, and the conversation went something like this....

Attendant: "Sorry mate, we don't allow motorcycles to park in here."

Me: "What?  Why?"

Attendant: "Some people bring their car in here, leave it a long time and come back weeks later on a small motorcycle, get a new ticket and take their car out cheaply using that new ticket.  They then ride in the small gap at the end of the barrier to get the motorcycle out."

Me: "I am not going to do that."  Full of self-importance, I added "I am giving an important presentation here at the hotel and I need to park my motorcycle in here."

Attendant: "Sorry, the answer is no."

My only other option would be to park my bike on the street and I didn't want to do that.  By now, a car was waiting on the ramp behind me.

Me: (Getting a bit annoyed now) "So you are discriminating against me, because of what someone else has done?"

Attendant: "Like I said, you are not parking that motorcycle in here."

I was as determined as him. "Please contact the manager of the hotel and ask him to come here."

Attendant: "No, because it won't do any good."

Me: “I am not going anywhere.”  Now there are a few cars behind me waiting to get into the car park.”  One beeps his horn.

Attendant: “You had better move your bike.”

Me: “No.  Besides, I cannot as there is a barrier in front of me and cars behind me.  I suggest you go get the manager.”

Attendant: “No, move your bike.”

Me: "No!"

There was no way was I going to back down and somehow turn my bike around in the small space and squeeze passed the cars on the ramp.  I climbed off my bike and lent against the wall, staring at the attendant.   I was furious and the cars drivers were not happy either.   I shrugged my shoulders at them as if to say “what can I do?”

After a couple of minutes of this stand-off, more cars have joined the queue, so I locked my bike, set the alarm and leaving it blocking the ramp, I set off to find the manager of the hotel.  After a short discussion, he agreed with me and telephoned the attendant to tell him so.  I walk back to the car park, unlock and start the bike, the barrier is raised and with the attendant and car drivers glaring at me, I rode into the car park.

It then happens.  Ten feet past the booth, turning sharply to follow the ramp, I drop the bike onto its right side.  Fuck!

Full of blood-pumping adrenaline, I use all my strength and pick the bike up, only for it to get away from me and it fell over onto its left side.  Fuck!  Fuck!

Now sweating buckets in the heat of the confined car park, I tried in vain to lift my heavy Harley-Davidson again but i didn't have the strength.   I was now delaying the car drivers even longer and some had begun to blast their horns. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

I tried again, but there was no way I could lift the bike.

Embarrassingly, I had to ask one of those drivers to help me.   I felt stupid.  I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me so I was out of the gaze of the car drivers.  Reluctantly, one did help me to lift it, and I quickly parked my motorcycle and got out of that car park as fast as I could.

I can assure you, getting flustered, angry, sweaty and being in a bad mood is not a good thing just before delivering an important speech.  It went okay, but I have never been back to that hotel.

Saturday, 18 May 2013

Bike Shed, London


I went to the Bike Shed event in Shoreditch in London today. It was an outing for my red custom bike, Tradewinds. I met a few friends there, so what better way to spend a couple of hours on a Saturday afternoon.

Part bike display, part art show, it was a small but busy event that showed off custom bikes. Most of the bikes were old and had been modified on a budget. No high-end expensive bikes here, which was refreshing.

A few pictures from the event, all taken on a camera phone….



Many café racers….



A nice BMW café racer….



A Triumph with extended forks and a hard seat….


A lovely bobber….



Nice air intake….








An unusual JAP engine in a Harley-Davidson frame….



Um, some sort of a bastard bike….







Old and dirty….



My favourite bike at the event. I am looking for an engine like this right now, for a new custom bike project I have in mind….



Goggles and gloves….










I met this guy, Martin, sketching away and was impressed by his art….



Motorcycle park….



My friend Paul, as ever, taking pictures….



I think they may need to find somewhere bigger for next year.....

Sunday, 12 May 2013

St Tropez 2013 Motorcycle Tour


In what is becoming an almost annual pilgrimage for me, I went to the HOG (Harley Owners Group) Festival in St Tropez again this year. This year it coincided with the 30th anniversary of HOG in Europe.

Ten of us set out from Tunbridge Wells and headed on a chilly UK morning for Dover, where a ferry was waiting for us. Our group consisted of a diverse of people on a range of bikes;


  • Andy, a private investigator, was on a H-D XR1200. He needs to get a new bike and there are rumours he might. After the burnouts some did on his bike, he at least needs a new tyre.
  • Another Andy, a commercial manager and an artist, was on his H-D Dyna Wide Glide. He forgot to pack a lot of things. He reminded us of Boycie, from Only Fools and Horses!
  • Axel, a German investment banker, was riding his new H-D 110th anniversary Road King. He takes lots of pictures, so is known as Foto-Fuhrer. He likes base-jumping without a parachute.
  • Charlie, my son and bicycle shop owner, was on my H-D Road King called the Leading Ladies. He was about twenty years younger than the next oldest, and definitely cooler than us old gits.
  • Ian, an architect, was on a Triumph. I could tell he was itching to open the bike up and leave us in his wake. He should have.
  • Ian, a semi-retired property developer, was on a H-D Street Glide. Always the first on his bike, it is clear patience was never one of Ian’s virtues.
  • Jon, a sales director, was on a Ducati Monster, but we forgave him. He gets lost sometimes and forgot we were meant to be heading south, not north.
  • Paul, a website designer, was on his H-D Blackline. Paul took more gadgets than clothes. He cannot dance, but thinks he can.
  • Preben, a machine technical from Denmark, was on his custom Sportster. He needs to get a bigger fuel tank. He is in love with Suzi Quatro.
  • I was on my custom bike, Amelia, the one with the long forks. My arms and arse ached a lot.


Not exactly a hardcore biker gang, so we called ourselves “The Sons of Democracy”, with Ian even going to the extent of getting tour t-shirts printed. The Hells Angels we met thought the t-shirts were amusing.

Our route south to the sun took us to six different countries: France, Belgium, Luxemburg, Germany, Austria, Italy and finally back into France. The route we took and the roads we used gave us a lot of variety. Each of us lead on a particular day with as many different ways of planning the route as there were planners. Methods ranged from sat navs / GPS’s to writing down names of towns on a beermat and duct-taping that to the tank.

Day one was about getting off the ferry and getting some serious miles done, led by Ian the property developer, in the less exciting areas of northern France and Belgium. It was cold and we rode mainly on motorways, eventually turning off when we realised we were getting further away from our destination for the night (in northern Germany).

Day two was led by Axel through his homeland of Germany. Mainly on quieter roads now, we saw some of the Black Forest and that big river we crossed must have been the Rhine. Towards the end of the day, we started to love the views of the mountains and the twisty roads. The owner of the remote hotel we had booked went from zero to hero in 10 minutes after we discovered the bedrooms all shared one toilet and one bath, plus he said the hotel restaurant was closed. I think he realised we were about to leave when miraculously, he declared the restaurant open, and to be fair, he produced a great meal and was a terrific host.

I led on day three into Austria and onto Italy, over the Alps. We enjoyed some cracking roads surrounded in part by snow. We passed the entrance to Stelvio Pass but carried on riding as I knew the road was still blocked by snow. At the end of a long days riding we rode down the west side of Lake Garda and onto a great and cheaply priced hotel. It was a shame we chose to ride through Austria on what must have been National Tunnel Cleaning Day, as the road surface of a few were filthy dirty and wet from the cleaning operations. Our bikes, especially my custom chopper were very dirty at the end of the day.

Day four was riding through some dull roads in northern Italy and Jon seemed to take the wrong road a couple of times, causing much merriment in the group. The afternoon saw us riding a superb road, the SS45 south of Bobbio to Genoa. The temperature had begun to rise significantly the further south we road and by the time we had reach the Mediterranean, we were shedding layers of clothes. The evening saw too much drink being consumed and a late night meeting with the (friendly) local police, when Axel descending a steep cliff rather too quickly.

Heads were sore for the start of riding on day five, resulting in us leaving later than planned. With Charlie leading, we cracked on, and saw more and more Harley-Davidsons as we near our destination, St Tropez. Bikes were cleaned and an evening out saw another meeting with more local police. Apparently, they don’t like people walking over the top of the steel bridge arch beams. It was only about thirty feet up, so our group were not sure what the problem was! Ian looked sheepish as a policemen asked him (in a very condescending tone) “How old are you?”. “Too old” was the reply!

Day 6 we spend at the rally and in the picturesque town of St Tropez, drinking coffee at the front of the port, with our bikes parked right in front of us. “It doesn’t get much better than this” was heard more than once. The non-Harley riders in the group took advantage of H-D’s demonstration ride scheme and rode H-D’s for the first time. That evening we went to see Suzi Quatro play on the beach along with a few thousand bikers clad in the same black leather as Suzi. It was then that we noticed Pauls appalling lack of dancing skills, but he was enjoying himself.

Too early, but in order for some of our group to get back to work, we needed to leave St Tropez on day 7 and we rode some way back north into France.

Day 8 saw us ride a long way through France to near Limoges, or at least most of us did. Jon had to get back quickly, so arranged to get his bike shipped back by truck while he flew. Paul had trouble with the bearings in the rear wheel of his bike and we had to leave him behind after making sure he would be collected by his recovery service. It was hard to leave Paul behind, but there was nothing else we could do to help him. We stayed the night at Harry’s Route 66 Hotel and bar.

Day 9 was the last day of the trip and we had quite a journey. Near Rouen, the motorway we were due to take was closed and we had trouble finding the next best alternative. We then headed cross country to find another good road, but the diversion we took was very slow. We missed the ferry we had booked, tried to get a train in the tunnel under the channel, but the trains were full until well into the night. We did manage to get on a later ferry and arrived home knackered.

Charlie and I rode a total of 2,674 miles.

It was an excellent trip, with many great roads ridden, friendships forged and memories made. Roll on next year!

I cannot claim credit for an of the pictures below, which were all taken by the others on the trip. The excellent video was made by Paul, a talented videographer.....