HELLO AND WELCOME TO THIS ISSUE OF BSH!
I’m sitting here staring out of the window at, how unusual, grey skies – not a Good Thing when I have a bike to photograph for this very issue today… still, it’s only early (8.29am to be precise), and the day’s still young so fingers crossed.
It is warmer, though, than it has been of late; they’re forecasting fifteen or sixteen degrees (Celsius, not Fahrenheit, thank gawd) for the next few days ‘ere… Sod’s Law, though, that I’m away to Ediburgh for the Scottish Motorcycle Show tomorrow where it definitely isn’t, eh? Spring could be, finally, on its way and, honestly, it can’t come soon enough for me – this winter’s been really long, hasn’t it?
My travels up and down the land’ve started early again this year (they seem to start earlier every year for some reason), and there’s a thing I’ve noticed. I had, at first, thought it just happens round ‘ere cos we have a lot of US service personnel round this way (two USAF air bases within spitting distance of the BSH Editorial Hovel), and the legends of the way they’re instructed to drive in an unfamiliar land’re legion but, having been, recently, down to Hampshire, up to Lincolnshire, and across to Beds and Bucks, too, it seems to be a more widespread thing, and one I really don’t understand...
Car drivers (yep, them again… yes, I know I am now, finally, one of them, but I still don’t like to regard meself as such) who crawl along at 40mph, 50 if they’re very brave, in 60 limits, and then speed through 30 limits; what the hell is that about?
Now maybe I’m unfashionably law-abiding when it comes to speeding, but I don’t speed in 30 limits, and try quite hard not to in 40s, too, both on the bike and in t’van, too, ‘cos if there’s a 30 or 40 limit in place there’s probably a good reason for it. Low speed limits’re there, usually, because there’s an increase in traffic, both motorised and pedestrian, and that means, especially for us motorcycle types, an increased threat of not being seen by some myopic/arrogant shagwit and them pulling/walking out in front us with, usually, consequences that’re, if you’re lucky, just painful but, if you’re not, potentially tragic. In my, relatively, long riding career I’ve hit pedestrians who’ve walked out in front of me on two occasions, and it’s horrible – you know it’s going to happen, you can see it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. Thankfully, the two people I hit were impacted at very low speeds as I hadn’t been going fast ‘cos it was a 30 limit, and I had good (but not THAT good, obviously) brakes, and they weren’t really hurt (bet they had some bruises the next day though) and, importantly, I didn’t come off, but if I’d been going faster that wouldn’t’ve been the case. Similarly, not going fast in villages or towns gives drivers a better chance of seeing you and, therefore, not pulling out and sending you flying over their bonnet and, I don’t know about you, but that’s something I try to avoid on a daily basis.
The other thing I don’t get about speeding in 30s and 40s is, in my experience, where policemen, the rare beasts they are these days, position speed traps/ scamera vans, and I don’t want points on me licence – again, in my eyes, something that isn’t rocket science… or is it? I do wonder these days.
Anyway, it’s April, and that means the event season proper is underway; all across the land bike nights start in earnest, and rallies an’ shows an’ stuff kick off big-style. Me, I’m off, this month, to dos in Warwickshire, Worcestershire, Bedfordshire, Norfolk and Surrey (those’re the ones planned so far anyway), and I have a list of bikes to photograph to bring to you lot as long as both of Mr. Tickle’s arms put together so, on that note, I shall sign off. See you next month!