So, what did Tarka do at the weekend?

MMC

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S’funny old thing, biking. Where else would you get one bloke giving up 2 days of holiday, riding 4 hours in the freezing cold and spending his weekend teaching another bloke to ride? And, what’s more, a bloke he’d never met before?

Well, maybe on GayDating.com - but apart from that?

That’s what Tarka did this weekend.

He rode from his eyrie on The Wirral down to Bampton to help me pick up my new Ural combo from the inimitable David Angel at F2 Motorcycles:

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He then spent the rest of the weekend teaching me how to ride the thing. He’s clearly a hell of a teacher. I’m now sitting typing this by the fire, with a glass of whisky. I’ve just been over to the village shop on the combo to get the coal and the logs in the sidecar. All on my own. :D

So, how did it all happen?

Tarka, for those of you who don’t know, is very scary:

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I was worried. As has been demonstrated on this very forum, he does not take prisoners.

Would my bike be clean enough? Would I inadvertently blurt out a question about ‘what oil should I use’? Would I remember to hide my day-glo pyjamas?

The main thing was to make sure there was coffee and enough bacon to satisfy even the hungriest vegetarian:

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Meanwhile, as the coffee brewed and the bacon fried, Tarka was on the way:

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More anon...
 
tarkas a fackin star ,, and a real pussycat on the quiet:augie:D:D:D

Indeed he is - a top bloke and then some.

More about the pussycat later... Poor animal is still traumatised.

:D

Thanks for the comment on the combo - I love it already. I'm more pleased than old Pleased Jack Pleased from Pleasedchester United. :thumb2:thumb2
 
Indeed he is - a top bloke and then some.

More about the pussycat later... Poor animal is still traumatised.

:D

Thanks for the comment on the combo - I love it already. I'm more pleased than old Pleased Jack Pleased from Pleasedchester United. :thumb2:thumb2

ive got two cats here that need the tarka treatment:green gri

right carry on more pics of your new steed:rob
 
Knowing Tarka’s reputation, our cat, Mr Gentleman was worried. Very worried.

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As it turned out, he didn’t need to be. Tarka turned up and didn’t have fangs, didn’t shout about how filthy my GS is and didn’t take a bite out of Mr G either.

Although Tarka was (after all) nice to cats, he was from The Wirral. Up there you need to lock your bike. On the mean streets of Bampton there was no need, but old habits...

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Rapidly getting himself outside coffee and bacon sandwiches, we headed north to Banbury and F2 Motorcycles. If I listed all the things that make David Angel, the proprietor of F2, an absolutely top bloke it would take all night. Just take my word for it.

He had the beastie ready ACFed, filled with petrol and ready to go.
At first, I thought Tarks had come over all Merseyside and was making off with my new combo. :D

Turned out he was being a good egg and pushing it out into the sun to we could take photos.

See - Tarka’s a good egg really.

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So we took photos:

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And stood about, drinking David’s coffee and admiring the new beastie:

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Now, I’d originally planned to ride it back to Bampton from Banbury meself. “It’s not far - and how hard can this Uralling thing be?” I asked myself. Fortunately, I also asked Tarka. His response had been simple. On the phone it went along the lines of “Don’t be a daft pillock. You’ll either end up in a hedge or you’ll put yourself off for life. I`m going to phone my boss now to see if I can get the time off....I`m on nights from Sunday to Wednesday.”

So Tarks drove. I played monkey.

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Nice roads round here:

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We tried to park up in Chipping Norton, home of Jezza Clarkson, but there was just nowhere to park, so we pushed on...

And finally stopped for a drink in Shipton Under Wychwood. Tarka spotted the oil section in the garage:

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And there was no holding him:

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There was so much choice, it puzzled even the great man himself.

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At least the descriptions were honest though:

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And on we pushed for Burford:

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Burford’s a genteel place, a sort of betweeted and brogued capital of the Cotswolds. God alone knows what they made of us:

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Mind you, lots of people smiled and waved. Maybe they’d met Tarks before?

We did a bit of dual carriageway, just to see what Irbit’s finest would do:

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That’ll be 60mph then. Quite fast enough for me. :D

Then, we hit the carparks and industrial estates of West Oxfordshire. I’ll leave Tarka to post the humiliating exhibition I made of myself trying to learn how to ride a combo. The man has the patience of a ruddy saint.

Eventually, as the sun started dipping (and so did my concentration), we headed back to Bampton and home.

Bampton’s just next to RAF Brize Norton, and, in honour of the new bike, they’d even laid on a Hercules to treat us to a flypast:

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The Almighty (whichever one you fancy really, I’m not discriminating when it comes to deities) had laid on a decent sunset too:

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And we made it home.

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Shortly after this, we hit the wine. Quite hard. Suffice it to say that there were five empty bottles the next morning - and Pip doesn’t drink wine. By midnight, we were talking absolutely fluent - but quite unintelligible - bollocks. By 1am we were even starting to make sense.

The plan was to be up at 0700 for some serious Uralling tuition. Somehow I wasn’t convinced... :D

:augie
 
Sunday morning.

Ow.

Coffee.

It’s 0700 - Tarks still in bed and all quiet from the spare room. Time to nip out (nip being the operative word - it was fecking freezing) and look at the beastie:

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Eventually, Tarks surfaced, we hit the toast and coffee and headed off to the old RAF Bampton Castle.

Tarka demonstrated:

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And explained:

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And coached me to drive figure 8s, ovals, turns and, eventually, to fly the chair a bit. He did a bloody good job too. Not only can the man ride, he can explain, coach and show you how to do it yerself. Fantastic.

So we went for a bit of a bimble. I’d be bloody terrified of this on the GS. For a Ural it’s easier than well-oiled piece of machinery (that’ll be 20w50 mineral then Tarks, yes? :D):

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Then we headed back to Bampton for breakfast. Sausages, bacon, eggs, proper black pud. Tark seemed happy with progress:

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We pressed Pip into service lugging Ural spares around.

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Before I took her out for a blast in the chair, trailed by Tarka who was keeping an eye on how I was doing:

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Pip and Tarka both thought I’d passed my Uralling test:

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Then, sadly, it was time for Tarks to head back to The Wirral.

What a top bloke - he’d spent an entire weekend of holiday teaching me how to ride a combo, doled out more useful advice than a whole library full of Haines manuals and even fixed my first Ural breakdown. Water in the carbs. Of course.

And, not only that, it’s partly his fault that I’m now enjoying riding a combo in the first place. If you’ve not tried it - do. More fun than free kicks at Gordon Brown’s arse.

We waved him (Tarka, not Gordon) off with sausage sarnies and coke:

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And Mr Gentleman checked it was OK to come out again:

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Mate, here’s to one of the finest - if not the finest - weekend of biking and bollocks I’ve enjoyed. Bloody fantastic - and thank you SO much.

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many happy and safe miles together Mark. :thumb
and progress reports please.
 
many happy and safe miles together Mark. :thumb
and progress reports please.

Cheers Ash. Should come down and annoy you on it! Certainly looking forward to putting the miles in. Might help the gearbox (it's a brand new 750 box - thank you Mr Angel) too. :D
 
He really is a Tosser isn't he Mark? ;)

And who ever heard tell of a bacon eating vegetarian anyway? :rolleyes:
 
brings a fair tear to my eye does that:) putting all the cabin fever and bollox aside it shows what a great comunity this is:cool:

well some of them anyway:augie

as i stated before that is a reet purty outfit right there:beerjug:
 
Excellent write up. I especially liked the first photo of the cat!! Looks like a nice outfit and a great weekend. I can feel a Ural weekend coming on in the summer

Have fun

AndyT
 
Nice report:thumb

Tarka really is a TOP TOSSER:clap:bow
 


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