More old photos!

It might not get all that cold in the area of NZ where we live but at least in winter, the grass only needs cutting every few weeks and the garden largely takes care of itself!  This gives a bit more free time to do indoor stuff, especially with longer nights as well.  One of those "other stuff" things is continuing to sort through thousands of old photos, including 35mm slides, prints and some digital images.

Hope it doesn't bore the pants off everyone, but here are a few photos which might be of interest.

The first was taken at a North Island classic car meet at Kerikeri in 2009.  Looks like a Lotus 7-type kit car, doesn't it?  Well, it was clearly influenced by Lotus but it was built from scratch by a well-retired panelbeater even older than me!!  Alloy and glass-fibre bodywork, carbon guards - all fabricated by him.  Now here's the bike connection - it has a modified Honda CBR1100xx Blackbird motor in it.  It apparently has electrifying performance on account of its power to weight ratio. We had a long discussion about the motor and his next project was to turbocharge it.  Absolute proof that as you age, there's no need to slow up or grow up - what a great advertisement for ageing disgracefully!

The next picture was taken at a charity toy run in the 1990's.  It was a 1960's UK-built Raleigh 20 bicycle but someone had cleverly grafted a little engine onto it which pressed down on the front tyre. The steering characteristics must have been quite interesting.  I vaguely remember the French having a penchant for powered bicycles way back.  Looks like throttle control is via a thumb lever on the handlebars.  Also noteworthy is the apparent absence of brakes so in an emergency, I guess the rider simply abandoned ship and left it to its own devices.  It does have a bell though - the ultimate safety accessory.

This photo was taken in 1991 in Bali and shows a novel approach to passenger safety.  Gary Francis' recent blog from Thailand also commented on the practice which clearly continues to this day in south east Asia.  There must be safety rules for riding motorcycles because everyone wears helmets, but side saddle???? Perhaps gravel rash is an acceptable risk in the face of style and modesty.  Heaven knows what happens on tight corners or under emergency braking!  As an aside, there are a few big bikes in Bali but by far the majority are scooters and mopeds.  Craftsmanship is alive and well over there as we saw roadside motorcycle shops (shops is a rather loose description for a pavement workshop), manufacturing exquisite expansion chambers for customised 2 stroke mopeds with sheet metal, crude hand tools and a gas torch!

This photo was taken in 1987 and the very pretty Honda GB400TT in the foreground was responsible for getting me back into motorcycling. They were built in the British cafe racer style and it was a delight to ride.  I'm standing by the GSX-R1100 owned by a workmate and it's a good job that it's not a video or you'd see me shaking!  After my absence from bike ownership for close on 15 years and totally rusty, Chris turns up and suggests we swap bikes for a "gentle" ride round a local twisty route.  Oh Lord, I was terrified of the Gixxer, with its super-sensitive throttle and Chris had disappeared into the distance on my bike within the first minute of the ride (and he claimed that he was taking it easy).  It was probably while this photo was being taken that the realisation dawned that there was a whole load of unlearning and relearning to be done!

The following photo was taken in 1993 and shows all that is wonderful about motorcycling - a 2 stroke screamer in the shape of a 250cc Suzuki X7!  It belonged to our eldest son Lyndon who graduated to a road bike after spending a year on a Suzuki TS 100 trail bike honing his skills in our company-owned forests.  The X7 was a beauty of a bike and whilst Lyndon was a layabout at university, I used to sneak out on it at every opportunity and thrash it round the country lanes. Two strokes take an awful lot of beating in the fun stakes - the exhaust howl is something else.  A friend still owns this bike, hasn't ridden it in years and I still have hopes of getting my paws on it again one day!

I mentioned the Suzuki TS 100.  The next photo is yours truly giving it a hiding along one of our company forest fire breaks around 1990.  Lovely little bike, surprisingly tractable and would carry my weight along at a fair old lick.  It was given to us by a friend  who's crowning glory was to jump it off a jetty into the sea after drinking a little too much of the amber liquid!  Amazingly, after a thorough wash-down and lots of CRC, it showed few ill-effects and was a family favourite for some years.

The final photo in this post (taken in 1980) clearly isn't a motorcycle but there is a connection!  Before returning to bikes in 1987, I raced single-handed catamarans, called Paper Tigers, at national championship level.  Quite difficult to handle in a decent breeze as shown by the shot taken on our local stretch of water. Incidentally, the yacht was called "Hooligan"; a not inappropriate name, all things considered.  The successor to Hooligan was called "September Warrior".  So-called because that's when all the bullshitting started before the new sailing season opened in October!  Anyway, the motorcycling connection is that I reckon that the skill set required to sail a yacht and ride a motorcycle are practically identical in terms of balance, reaction times and situational awareness.  Perhaps that's why I instinctively took to yacht racing. Although I've never piloted a light aircraft, it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to think that the skill set for flying is very similar too.

But is it art?

Y'see, I trained as an engineer and according to my darling wife, all engineers either border on Asperger's Syndrome or fall completely into that category.  I think what she means (as much as any guy knows what the opposite sex really means) is is that we prefer "real stuff" to touchy-feely things like emotions, subtle nuances and ART. These things normally float in through a guy's ear and out the other side without leaving any residual traces or impact.  It's a bit harsh singling out engineers as targets for this withering sarcasm as most guys I know share these characteristics.

I'm certainly not  wishing to start a battle between the sexes but thought it was useful background on how I tend to view motorbikes - very much function over form. Well, perhaps just a smidgeon of form due to Jennie's encouragement not to be a complete ass.

Getting to the point, I had a most enjoyable 340 km  round trip yesterday to a motorcycle dealer in Hamilton to have new tyres fitted to the Street Triple (more on tyres in a couple of posts).  Anyway, having consigned the bike to the tender mercies of the service department, I was clear to grab a coffee and wander round the  showroom for an hour.  The Hamilton Motorcycle Centre is agent for Triumph, Ducati, Kawasaki and BMW and the showroom is comprehensively stocked with multitudes of models representing these brands.  Now whether it was the sunny day, a good ride, outstanding bike centre staff, or the sum of all these things; I was very surprised to find that I wasn't looking at the functionality of these bikes, but their shapes, colours and artistic merits - eeeeek.... must take my man pills.   All joking aside, looking at them in this light rather than a purely technical  one was a real pleasure and I must really do more of it.

I'm not saying that Jennie would enthusiastically embrace any of these bikes hung on a wall in lieu of our paintings and photographs, but she might appreciate the fact that I've stepped out of the usual way of looking at things!  Learning from more experienced bloggers, I'd actually packed a camera and I'd like to share some of the photos I took to illustrate the artistic side of motorcycles.  Click to enlarge.

Ducati 1198S rear end.....(wiping drool off chin)

Oh, those curves.......

Rocket 3 engine - immense power and a thing of brutal beauty.  

Isambard Kingdom Brunel would have approved

Plain matt black Rocket 3 tank - where less is more

Thunderbird engine

Tell me this isn't art!

Every woman looks great in a black number with diamonds

Every guy looks great on a black number with chrome

Ok, so I've been ever so slightly tongue-in-cheek about functionality and form but it's hard to dispute that the bikes above are superb examples of beautiful machinery, whether you're a die hard sports bike fan, cruiser enthusiast or whatever.  The other thing I've noticed is that modern bikes seem to attract favourable comments from both sexes when parked up anywhere, not just guys; maybe another telling commentary on classy styling.

Night riding - love it or loathe it?

Nightfall, just setting off for a 200 km autumn ride

There have been some superb blog posts recently coming out of Canada and the USA about riding in adverse conditions and their "character building" nature.  Therefore, I thought I'd continue the general theme with some random musings for consideration about  Kiwi night riding experiences.

Night riding is something you don't see much written about in motorcycling magazines, either from the viewpoint of the effectiveness of headlights on various makes of bike or even tips on how you ride safely at a reasonable pace.  This leads me to wonder whether motorcycling is largely regarded as a daytime activity by most manufacturers, the motorcycling press and even a decent percentage of riders.  In the latter case, it's probably something that many people don't do a lot of by choice.

Let's start with a definition of night riding. I'm not talking about riding through town with reasonably high levels of street, office and shop illumination, nor the reduced levels of lighting out in the suburbs.  What I'm referring to is being out in the blackness of the countryside with no lighting at all on two lane twisty roads rather than busy major arterial routes.  If you don't ride a lot in these conditions (and with a few exceptions, I don't), it can be fairly daunting; especially as in rural NZ, wildlife ranging from little furry things, larger woolly things and even through to big horny things all want to share the road with you on the odd occasion after dark!

Despite all the apparent risks, night riding is an incredible means of making you more complete as a rider.  Done properly, it sharpens your situational awareness skills and smooth riding techniques immeasurably which pays off in spades for normal daytime riding too.

How good or poor your lights are clearly has a bearing on both enjoyment and the opposite end of the scale too - the dreaded  "pucker factor"!  Your own skills and mindset are the other critical ingredients.  From a personal perspective, one of the few times I do what might be described as serious night riding is on organised endurance events which start off in daylight, run all through the night and finish sometime the next day.  This is at the extreme end of going out for a night ride but the techniques are really no different from heading off for a shorter run.  When you're comfortable with night riding, there's something very special about travelling in a little bubble of light, eating up the miles.

Lit up like the bridge of the Starship Enterprise

In terms of enjoyable night riding experiences, two come to mind; one riding solo and another with a group of other riders.  Hopefully, the reasons for them being enjoyable will become apparent.  The first was pre-retirement when I used to frequently commute 200 km from home on a Friday evening after work to our beach house that we now live in permanently.  The roads were one lane in each direction with a few straights but mostly sweepers and twisties.  The road was well known so that removed any mental apprehension about what to expect.  The journey itself was also of sufficient length that it was possible to start at twilight and "dial" into the ride and relax -  an important consideration.  The relaxed mental attitude was critical for concentration and heightened situational awareness which included a decent focus on chasing the "vanishing point" for correct corner positioning and entry/exit speeds.  Riding in the dark, you are also able to see small objects in the road, loose road metal etc. much easier than in daylight as the headlights cast shadows off even small items.  Travelling in the relatively small cocoon of light cast by the headlight seemed to remove extraneous distractions and focusing on the task at hand felt almost automated.  In fact, the fastest commute to the beach was done entirely in the dark.  I wasn't hitting the highest momentary speeds of a normal daylight run, yet through what I'd like to think was a smoother ride overall, a minute or two was shaved off the elapsed time, despite traffic densities being comparable.

The second example was on a 1000 miles (1600km) in 24 hours endurance ride in 2003. There were 4 of us riding together, with a high degree of trust in each other's abilities.  That takes a lot of stress out of any ride for starters, particularly in terms of having company if any problems are encountered.  Having already covered about 900km and well in the groove at somewhere past midnight, we found ourselves in volcano country in the central north island at an altitude of close to 3000 ft.  It was a clear night and the starlight alone was sufficient to brightly illuminate the snow on the upper reaches of the volcanoes.  Just 4 bikes and nothing else on the road with the sky and snow ablaze with light. As close to a mystical experience as one is likely to get without the ingestion of chemical supplements.  Again, being in the groove and the ability to relax with trusted friends in close proximity made good riding habits completely subconscious, allowing time to thoroughly appreciate the surroundings. "Zen-state" riding at its best!

Our first ever 1000 miles in 24 hours ride, early a.m, 1996.  Yellow blob in corner is a mate cat-napping (or possibly unconscious)!

One of the least enjoyable night rides was on an early 1000 miler where we were a long way from home in unfamiliar territory.  The road was narrow, no centre markings and there were continuous bends but it had plenty of grip. We were warm, there was no great risk yet I was rigid with tension which was causing fatigue; my thought processes had appreciably slowed up and I was riding with poor anticipation (gun-shy is a better description).  In hindsight, I'd almost certainly let myself get overwhelmed with apprehension about the narrow, twisty road we were travelling on rather than relaxing and simply sticking to the basics of riding smoothly.  In any event, it was all to do with my mental approach on that part of the ride rather than the conditions themselves.  I'd simply talked myself into not enjoying it.  Not that it applies in the case of "normal" night riding but I've noticed that on endurance rides at around 2-4 a.m, I don't really get tired, but I do get quite anxious and wonder whether the body clock trying to shut down releases chemicals that cause anxiety when you are forced to remain awake.  Maybe a physiologist would know.

So in trying to summarise personal thoughts about the skill sets for good night riding, it seems to be no different for those required in daylight riding BUT needs to be applied with a little more concentration than maybe we tend to in the day.  Heightened situational awareness, scanning all around and out to the limits of the headlight, attention to the vanishing point on corners and relaxing are just some of  the things which make a huge difference to enjoyment and safety. Relaxing is probably an easier proposition on a longer ride or if you set off in daylight so there is time to gradually adjust or dial in to the conditions. The other thing which undoubtedly aids the mental state is being adequately dressed in terms of warmth.

Unsurprisingly, the biggest bar to enjoying a night ride is a poor headlight.  What is surprising, however; is just how poor the standard headlights are on some modern bikes, particularly those with sporting pretensions.  Perhaps the manufacturers don't expect them to be ridden very far in complete dark.  My old BMW K100RS with its large oblong headlight (photo above) wasn't bad but was improved immeasurably by fitting a relay and a 100w halogen bulb.  The same modification was performed on the Blackbird and whilst it was fantastic on straights and sweepers, the physical shape of the headlight gave a sharp sideways cut-off which was quite unsettling when leaned well over in pitch blackness on tight corners.  Form over function by the designers methinks and probably a common occurrence on a lot of modern bikes.

The Street Triple twin round headlights give an excellent spread of light, but intensity in standard form is barely adequate.  They are also set too low during assembly. The relatively small volume of the lamp housings makes fitting higher temperature/wattage bulbs (i.e 100w) a possibly risky proposition.  As an intermediate step, the standard bulbs have been replaced with Osram Nightbreaker bulbs of the same wattage and what a difference!  The illumination is SIGNIFICANTLY better - why oh why can't the manufacturer fit better quality bulbs as standard?  The photo below shows the difference between the standard bulb and the Nightbreaker in daylight.  In the dark, it's even more pronounced.  The standard bulb on the left  is quite soft and yellow.  The Nightbreaker on the right is much whiter and more intense.

Standard bulb left, Nightbreaker right

As an aside, I tried 100w blue-white xenon bulbs on the Blackbird.  They didn't seem to illuminate greenery at the roadside as well as the 100w halogens.  Where they did score appreciably however was in daylight.  It was really noticeable how much earlier car drivers detected your presence and moved over if you were closing on them from behind.  That has to be a significant safety consideration given that most collisions or near-misses occur as a result of the "I didn't see you mate" excuse of cage drivers.

Fitting HID lights is another option but as I only do seriously long night rides about once a year, the upgrade to Nightbreakers is probably sufficient for now (we hope).

Actually, I'm not entirely sure what the purpose of this post has been, other than to ramble on more than a bit to help clarify in my own mind why I should get out more for decent length night rides in a range of different weather conditions, particularly in preparation for the big ride in October.  There's little doubt as already mentioned that  it sharpens your awareness, road positioning and makes you ride smoothly.  That's got to be a good thing, hasn't it?  Hope it all makes sense.

Response to the previous post

In response to the comments received about the last post in getting off a parking ticket, I thought I'd add a further example of how it's possible to get a good outcome without abuse, no matter how satisfying it is to let rip!

This event occurred a few years back when out of the blue, we received a letter from some solicitors regarding an unpaid veterinarian bill which had nothing at all to do with us. This is the letter: Click to enlarge

 

 As it was close to Christmas, a charitable response was called for:

 

 I was delighted with the response from the solicitors and surprised that upholders of the law actually had a sense of humour!

 

 Sonja and Bobscoot:  My services are way cheaper than a solicitor.  A small block of dark chocolate will be adequate recompense ;-)

A bit of light relief

Just been cleaning out some computer files and came across an old letter which might provide some brief amusement.

It concerns a fleeting visit I made on the bike to the city of Rotorua for some shopping. It's a major tourist centre and in addition to fleecing tourists for various attractions in the area, the city fathers clearly see the regular issue of parking infringement notices as a useful addition to city revenue. Parking wardens lurk round every corner.  I took the risk of parking illegally as no more than 5 minutes were going to be spent in the shop.  A cunningly camouflaged warden must have licked his or her lips on seeing me arrive and sure enough, there was a ticket on the bike but no warden in sight in the few scant moments it took to make a purchase.

It was pretty much pointless writing a letter ranting and raving about the unfairness of it all, so I tried one which was hopefully a mix of humour and grovelling.  It's reproduced below - click to enlarge, then + to zoom.

And the outcome?  It got waived!!  It must have lightened someone's day and since then, I've always tried to write letters of complaint in a similar vein, getting a reasonable amount of success.  One even got me an apology and a classy box of chocolates!  Might be worth giving it a try if you suffer the indignity of a ticket when you're on the bike.

Finally, a quotation  from an unknown (but wise) source:

People are more violently opposed to fur than leather because it's safer  to harass rich women than motorcycle gangs. 
.

Damascus steel - an ancient art

Nothing about bikes for a change but thought it may appeal to those with an appreciation of  technology, history and art.

It must be about 4 decades ago when I saw a TV programme on knife and sword-making using the Damascus steel (also known as pattern welded steel) process. It's a technique at least 1500 years old and is practically a lost art in the age of mass production. It’s how the original Middle-Eastern scimitar blades were made along with the Japanese Samurai Katana swords. One presumes that there must have been technology transfer even in those days, for them to have come into being at much the same time but be so geographically far apart.

The problem with ancient swords and knives was combining overall strength with a keen cutting edge in the absence of yet to be developed carbon steels and the Damascus process was the first to achieve those combined qualities.  Without going into too much detail, a billet of iron or steel is cut in half and forged together again whilst red hot. This is repeated multiple times to produce many layers, i.e. 9 double-ups produces 512 layers! This traps fine carbon layers from each slightly cooling surface and the layering process results in a blade which is incredibly strong and carries one of the sharpest and durable edges known. The Japanese allegedly used to test sharpness by cutting miscreants in half with one blow.  (Apologies if you've just eaten or are about to, but you'll get the drift about sharpness now!)

The principal difference between the Middle Eastern and Japanese methodology is that whereas a Katana is highly polished, the Middle Eastern blades were etched to expose some of the different layers. Depending on how the billet is spot-hammered or twisted during the forging process gives different patterns on the blade as these various layers are exposed during grinding and polishing.

As an engineer, I was blown away with both the ingenuity of the Damascus technique and the sheer beauty of the finished object. Owning one would be akin to owning a piece of history but that wasn't even a consideration back then.

Fast forward nearly 4 decades where the family had accumulated some nice art objects along the way. On a visit to Christchurch, we saw a one-off pocket knife in Damascus steel at an arts centre which had been made by a local forest park ranger. That was all that was required to start the yearning again and we decided that if possible, we would get a carving knife commissioned so it was both practical and an object of art which we could hand down as a family heirloom.

The Internet is truly a wondrous thing and lo and behold, we found 2 people in NZ with international reputations who still practised the ancient skill! After a bit of dialogue, one of them accepted a commission to make a carving knife for us. You'll understand that the manufacture of such a one-off item from scratch is not cheap, but neither is good original art.

A couple of months after sealing the deal, it arrived by registered mail and the result was breathtaking. It's a 10" drop point raindrop pattern Damascus ferrous blade, Canadian burr maple treated handle with etched copper fittings. It’s a truly stunning piece of workmanship and the only problem now is that all our 3 kids (who are great cooks) want to inherit it! Sharp is an understatement and the crisp “ting” noise when tapping the blade is something else!

The photos simply don't do it justice, but here are some anyway. The original file sizes are large so you can click on the photos to enlarge detail.

It's not that easy to see but along the top edge shot below, the major layers from the billet folding process are just visible. The burr maple has the most amazing luminescent grain.

This commission gave me nearly as much pleasure as the emotional surge one gets from buying a new bike and the history connected with the process makes it ultra-special too.  It's wonderful that there are still craftspeople round the world keeping the ancient arts alive.

A word of warning though about "fake" Damascus steel.  There are kitchen knives available which purport to be Damascus because of the patterns etched on the blades but they're solid, not layered and not ferrous either.  Therefore, it's important to look closely and check provenance!  The ferrous blade is surprisingly easy to keep in good order, just a light wipe from a paper towel with a spot of cooking oil on it after hand-washing.  I really ought to make a mount or fancy case with a velvet liner for it to show proper respect rather than keeping it in a kitchen drawer.  Maybe we should commission a carving fork to match it......

If anyone is interested in breathtakingly beautiful Damascus knives, check these sites out:
Hoiho Knives  and Damascus NZ

Some random photos

Following on from the last post about wet weather gear, it's only a short skip to cold weather riding.  One of my friends lives in Central Otago, an inland area of the south island of NZ.  It's stunningly beautiful, sparsely populated and the climate can best be described as "continental" - low rainfall, up to 35degrees C and beyond in summer and down to -15degrees C in winter.  They breed them tough down there as Malcolm rides his bike to work in all but the harshest conditions.  He reckons that at minus 6 degrees, it starts to get a bit tricky because even with the coarse chip of south island roads, you start to lose mechanical grip.  Personally, I'd be more worried about losing digits and other extremities but what do I know; I'm just a soft north islander.

The photo is of Malcolm riding his Suzuki GS1200 SS down his kilometre-long dirt drive in the middle of winter.  Pretty heroic if you ask me.  Common sense has prevailed though.  He now owns a VStrom 1000 which is probably more suited to the winter conditions!

A Central Otago, NZ winter!

Keeping the winter connection, when I lived in the UK, there was a motorcycle event held every Boxing Day in Northamptonshire called the Wild and Woolly Scramble.  Scrambling being the quaint earlier term for what is now motocross.  The track was laid out through the fields of a working farm and testing conditions is an understatement - snow laying on the top of metre-deep mud in some places.  Great for spectators but not so hot for the competitors.  No such thing as a pressure wash for the bikes either.  The photo was taken by me in 1968. 

A study in abject misery!

The following photo was taken at the same event in 1969 but clearly in better conditions.  There's a bit of pedigree here as the photo is of Don Rickman , co-founder of Rickman Motorcycles who made nickel-plated frame "Metisse" kits for just about any type of motorcycle on the planet, including GP bikes.  Note the safety gear of that era - rugby shirt, leather pants and boots and not a bit of armour to be seen! (And temperatures hovering around freezing).

The famous Rickman Metisse frame