I suppose I should post this here so that Tim can "moderate" it, but I suspect he may have other priorities this evening.
The day started well, with bright skies as Andy and I drove to Pentrefolas, with the Honda and his recently bought KTM 450 in the trailer. We were last to arrive, so swiftly changed and joined the others. Timpo, Timolgra, Tina, Huw and Desert Rat. Andy works on a gas rig in the Irish sea and had bought the KTM the day before his last shift, and got a mate to MOT and tax it to be ready for todays ride. He was especially keen to get a ride in before an operation on his shoulder puts him out of action for a few weeks, and had been fretting all week, as he only got home on Friday!
At the gate to the first lane, the KTM spluttered and died. All the signs pointed to fuel starvation, but a quick check revealed nothing, so he insisted that we carry on while he went back to the trailer to investigate further. Timpo said we would be back within mobile coverage in an hour, and we could ring to see how he had got on. In the meantime, we carried on, over some lanes that I remember from my first ride out with Tim about 6 or 7 years ago.
A call to Andy, and he still has no luck. The bike starts perfect from cold, but once up to temperature it dies. Fuel has pretty much been eliminated, and we suspect the stator may be U/S after discussing it on the way home. He again insisted that I carry on, so off we went again, now we are six.
A selection of the days weaponry.
After a pleasant, although windy, set of lanes, Tim started to have a problem with the 'Berg not ticking over properly. It seemed to right itself and we rode on to some friends of Tina's, who were to join us for the main course of the ride, the infamous Bwlch-Y-Groes. These two guys were on some serious bits of kit, ideally suited to the terrain.
Tim had a more detailed look at the 'Berg while we waited.
Without more ado, we ventured into the forest, now we are eight.
At this point, having struggled to get it started again, Tim lost confidence in the 'Berg, this not the time or place to have problems. Discretion being the better part of valour, and all that. I think he was unhappy to turn round.
And so we are seven.
We started to wish we had.
The two C90's performed superbly, and I was transported back to my youth.
Doesn't this look like fun?
Thats three bikes all sharing the same bog.
And yes, even Denise got stuck!
I have had a harder days riding, but only once. I managed to lob the bike off a rock step when I didn't quite give it enough gas. I fell in a puddle when a gorse bush leapt out at me. The picture above happened when I was running (swimming?) alongside the bike trying to get across 20m of marsh. I managed 19.5m.
It took four of us, and a rope to get it out. I went to stand on the right of the front wheel, and sank into a hole 31" deep (ie my inside leg measurement)
Gortex socks cease to be useful at that depth.
A memorable days riding. Despite how it looks, I really enjoyed myself. Andy was gutted when he saw the photos, and heard how we had got on as we drove home.
My riding gear is once again spread all round the house, drying with that unmistakeable aroma of peat bog.
Roll on tomorrow!
Mark
The day started well, with bright skies as Andy and I drove to Pentrefolas, with the Honda and his recently bought KTM 450 in the trailer. We were last to arrive, so swiftly changed and joined the others. Timpo, Timolgra, Tina, Huw and Desert Rat. Andy works on a gas rig in the Irish sea and had bought the KTM the day before his last shift, and got a mate to MOT and tax it to be ready for todays ride. He was especially keen to get a ride in before an operation on his shoulder puts him out of action for a few weeks, and had been fretting all week, as he only got home on Friday!
At the gate to the first lane, the KTM spluttered and died. All the signs pointed to fuel starvation, but a quick check revealed nothing, so he insisted that we carry on while he went back to the trailer to investigate further. Timpo said we would be back within mobile coverage in an hour, and we could ring to see how he had got on. In the meantime, we carried on, over some lanes that I remember from my first ride out with Tim about 6 or 7 years ago.
A call to Andy, and he still has no luck. The bike starts perfect from cold, but once up to temperature it dies. Fuel has pretty much been eliminated, and we suspect the stator may be U/S after discussing it on the way home. He again insisted that I carry on, so off we went again, now we are six.
A selection of the days weaponry.
After a pleasant, although windy, set of lanes, Tim started to have a problem with the 'Berg not ticking over properly. It seemed to right itself and we rode on to some friends of Tina's, who were to join us for the main course of the ride, the infamous Bwlch-Y-Groes. These two guys were on some serious bits of kit, ideally suited to the terrain.
Tim had a more detailed look at the 'Berg while we waited.
Without more ado, we ventured into the forest, now we are eight.
At this point, having struggled to get it started again, Tim lost confidence in the 'Berg, this not the time or place to have problems. Discretion being the better part of valour, and all that. I think he was unhappy to turn round.
And so we are seven.
We started to wish we had.
The two C90's performed superbly, and I was transported back to my youth.
Doesn't this look like fun?
Thats three bikes all sharing the same bog.
And yes, even Denise got stuck!
I have had a harder days riding, but only once. I managed to lob the bike off a rock step when I didn't quite give it enough gas. I fell in a puddle when a gorse bush leapt out at me. The picture above happened when I was running (swimming?) alongside the bike trying to get across 20m of marsh. I managed 19.5m.
It took four of us, and a rope to get it out. I went to stand on the right of the front wheel, and sank into a hole 31" deep (ie my inside leg measurement)
Gortex socks cease to be useful at that depth.
A memorable days riding. Despite how it looks, I really enjoyed myself. Andy was gutted when he saw the photos, and heard how we had got on as we drove home.
My riding gear is once again spread all round the house, drying with that unmistakeable aroma of peat bog.
Roll on tomorrow!
Mark
