Bikes, Brides, Blow-Downs and Breakdowns

After a year and a half of it being off the road due to a slipping clutch I couldn't justify spending money on to replace, last Friday I collected my wonderful BMW R1100RT motorcycle from my work colleague who had kindly offered to use it as his autumn/winter project and who'd been busy fixing it up in his spare time.  With not only a new clutch, but a full service, new brake pads and pins, various minor repairs and two new tyres it sailed through the MOT without a hitch, so on Saturday morning I took advantage of the unseasonably mild and dry weather and went for a ride up through Argyll to Inveraray and back.  Fantastic fun!

On Saturday evening with Glasgow Chamber Choir I sang in the Old World, New World concert in St Bride's Church in Hyndland, with glorious music by Victoria, Villa-Lobos, Casals, de Padilla, and Guererro.  Lately most of the GCC concerts have featured music which has been a bit more modern in style than my first choice would be, so when for various personal reasons before the new term started in September I was considering whether I would leave the choir, perhaps temporarily perhaps permanently, the largely 17th century choice for this concert swung it towards me staying, for the moment at least.  Suffice to say that the concert on Saturday, and repeated again on Sunday in the historic Canongate Kirk in Edinburgh (the church in which Zara Phillips and Mike Tindall were married in July this year), contained some of the best sounds I've heard the choir make (as well as one or two slightly less enjoyable arse-tightening moments!).

Before heading to Edinburgh on Sunday though, Ruth and I went to Motherwell to watch the demolition of Glencairn Tower, where I used to live a long time ago with my parents.  We've both been meaning to catch a "live" blow-down of a tower block for the past few years but never managed to hear about one in time until now, and it didn't disappoint albeit it was over in just a few seconds.  The images below weren't taken by me, but are "official" press ones which I've seen on several news websites so I've reproduced them here on the basis that they're of public interest, and the photographers will have been reimbursed by the mainstream media.  In particular I think the third one, with the controlled buckling of the walls so apparent, is very striking.  In the top picture our old house can be seen three floors from the top and roughly near the centre of the left half.  In fact the large white banner is covering the window of my old bedroom!

So, taking the bike to work this morning I jumped at the chance to deliver a couple of pieces of mail which needed hand-delivery, one to Edinburgh and one to Kirkcaldy, but after already noticing oil leaking from one of the front forks when I was on the way to Edinburgh, the clutch cable snapped as I approached a set of lights at a very busy junction in the city centre.  Fortunately I managed to bring the bike to a halt safely without hitting anything or dropping it, and made the call to the RAC.  To cut a long story short (3 hour wait) a recovery truck eventually took me and the dead bike back to Glasgow and dropped it off at the garage who'd done the MOT, where it's now sitting waiting for the replacement parts to arrive, for the mechanic to fix it, and for me to shell out another £160!  Hopefully though this will be the last such sudden expenditure for a while and I can get back to using the bike as much as is reasonably practical and safe over the winter.

My biking history (so far)

Elsewhere on this blog you will see that two of my interests are choral singing and drinking beer.  These two are often connected and singing in choirs is a sociable activity long associated with subsequent fluid replacement sessions.  My other main interest, but one that is clearly separate from beer, is motorcycling, and this post relates to that activity, and perhaps to a lesser extent to driving things with more than two wheels.

I've been driving cars, vans and lorries for over 30 years, passing my driving test in January 1980 when I was 17 (the youngest you can drive a car in the UK), but I came to motorcycling late when having been made redundant in July 1995 the nasty company took back their company car, forcing me into providing my own transport in future!  Never having even expressed a passing interest in two wheels previously, on a random whim in August 1995 I splashed out some of my redundancy money on a brand new Honda Rebel 125cc Harley Davidson lookalike, and stuck some L plates on it.

Honda Rebel

Prior to my actual motorcycle test, as I was sitting my CBT (Compulsory Basic Training) about a month after buying the bike the odometer clicked over to 2000 miles, so I had already by then set the tone for doing plenty mileage on two wheels!

The photo on the right isn't actually my bike, but it's identical in every way, right down to the leather saddlebags!

Honda NTV600 Revere

After passing my motorcycle test on 23rd October 1995 I pretty quickly traded in the Rebel, losing a lot of money in the process but gaining a salutary lesson in how much depreciation can happen in 6 months when you purchase a brand new vehicle, and I bought a secondhand white Honda NTV600 Revere with what seemed like a huge barn-door of an aftermarket fairing on it.  In the image on the left you see it fully loaded with a week's worth of stuff when I was visiting a friend in London.  The black binliner on the seat was my low-tech method of waterproofing a large rucksack full of clothes!  And as well as side panniers and a top box I had a tank bag as well.  On that enjoyable trip I had my first experience of riding in central London in the rush hour.  It was an experience!  But I survived and actually started enjoying it!


Another redundancy after 6 months (lucky white heather?) and I decided I'd take some time out of being employed by others, and put my Revere to work instead, so I became a self employed motorcycle courier in Glasgow for a year.  It's amazing the steep learning curve linked to riding approximately 1000 miles every week in all weathers!

The company to whom I was subcontracted, M8 Messengers, had a contract with various local hospitals, so although this meant mainly collecting and delivering patient notes and x-ray films and transferring them between hospitals, I found myself on occasions delivering tissue samples, and on one memorable occasion an orthopaedic surgeon in the Southern General Hospital had just started an operation when they discovered that an apparently vital piece of equipment was missing (or broken, or something) so they quickly contacted another hospital, the Royal Infirmary I think it was, or it might have been the Victoria Infirmary, and sourced a replacement.  So we were contacted and I was despatched to collect and deliver this equipment, all done while the patient was kept in the operating theatre under anaesthetic!  That was one occasion when time really was of the essence, and I really didn't hang about.

As part of the contract there was a daily collection of, ahemm, samples from the department of Genito-Urinary Medicine at the Southern General (the GU Clinic, or the clap clinic to put it into the vernacular) which had to be taken across Glasgow to the laboratory at Ruchill Hospital.  I always tried to put out of my mind the nature of the scrapings within the sealed bag I was given!  Anyway, I wasn't the only courier working for M8 Messengers so I wasn't in there every day, but was in at least once or twice a week.  One day I walked in, dressed in full leathers as usual and with my flip-front helmet opened so the customer could see my face as usual (I think it very rude for couriers to try to speak to the paying customers through a full face helmet) and walked up to the reception desk.  The receptionist, who I'd spoken to several times a week for the past God knows how many weeks, looked up at me and asked me if I had an appointment.  I was mortified that I looked as though I must have syphilis or something and was in to be seen by a doctor!  I know we're often described as dirty filthy bikers, but that was taking it too far!

I lost a lot of money being a courier.  The promised estimate of how much I'd earn if I subcontracted to M8 Messengers failed to translate into pound notes, and in the year I was doing it I spent more than I earned, by a fair amount.  On the bright side, it helped me through a particular bad patch in my life involving amongst other things redundancies, marital separation and deaths of close relatives and pets, and I didn't have to pay any tax because I made a loss!  I also packed a lot of riding experience into a short space of time.

If you consider that generally most motorcyclists probably ride an average of 5000-6000 miles a year and only use their bikes in favourable weather (leaving aside the minority who use them all year round of course) and then realise that I was doing about 1000 miles every week in all weathers, then that puts it into perspective a bit.  The high mileage also contributed greatly to my financial loss.  For me, DIY stands for Don't Involve Yourself.  I just don't do it.  The bike needed servicing every 6000 miles at a cost of a bit over £100.  Tyres needed changing regularly (can't remember how many miles I used to get out of them) at an average cost of £100 each.  This meant that every 6 weeks the bike was off the road for a day being serviced by a garage, and on those days I didn't work so wasn't paid. I believe too that I was one of the very few motorcycle couriers in Glasgow (leaving aside those who rode company bikes) whose bike was actually insured for working as a courier!  This meant another £50+ per month.  I still have my accounts filed away somewhere.  They make for interesting reading!

While on a delivery one Friday (Friday 27th September 1996, which was Glasgow September holiday weekend) I was lucky to survive virtually unscathed an impact with a Renault Clio which jumped a red light very late (two Glasgow Black Cabs had stopped at the red light and she came through it between them, that's how late it was!).

It was in Glasgow city centre at the junction of St Vincent Street with Hope Street at half past five at night on a holiday weekend, and I lay in the centre of the junction stopping all the traffic.  It took the ambulance over half an hour to arrive because of the gridlock in the city centre caused by me lying there, but I was comfortable enough lying on my back while another biker, Bob who was the other M8 Messengers biker (everyone else drove vans) spoke to me and fended off the well meaning but misguided do-gooders who were trying to remove my helmet.

The initial suspicion of broken neck, broken ribs, and fractured skull in fact turned out to be concussion and bruised ribs (as well as various other sore bits too trivial to mention).

When I got to the Royal Infirmary (as a patient this time, not collecting anything) and they had confirmed that my neck was unbroken and I could move my legs so wasn't in imminent danger of being paralysed, the nurse offered to contact someone to let them know I was in hospital.  I initially declined, living on my own and not feeling the need to let anyone know, but I suddenly had a panic about who'd feed my cat if I was kept in overnight, so I asked her to contact two friends.  She called them from the same room I was in so I heard her side of the conversation which went along the lines of:

Hello, it's the Royal Infirmary Accident & Emergency Department here, do you know Layclerk?

To which my friend obviously replied in the affirmative

Well he's had a motorbike accident and has been brought to the hospital

By which time, I discovered later, my friend was having thoughts of funerals, wheelchairs etc

And only then, in response to a direct question, did the nurse say, yes he's fine.

I used this experience later in life when I worked for Strathclyde Police for a while as a Turnkey and when I had to call someone to let them know a friend or relative was in custody (this was always at the request of the prisoner of course) I always started the telephone conversation with the words "hello it's Strathclyde Police here, there's nothing to worry about, but ....."

So, back to the Royal Infirmary.  I was lying on a trolley in a side room with my friends, who had by now arrived, and the police traffic officer who had been at the scene of the accident and was now looking for a statement from me.  Once that was done he explained to me that the Transport Research Laboratory (TRL) was conducting a study into motorcycle accidents, looking at damage to bikes, equipment, clothing, rider etc, and now that I wouldn't be needing my helmet again would I consider donating it to the study.  What?  He was telling me I would never ride again, I thought.  I queried this.  He looked at me in mild surprise and asked me if I'd actually seen my helmet.  I hadn't, but it was on the shelf under the trolley on which I was lying.

Now at this point I should explain that during the accident, which, as these things do, happened in slow motion, I was aware of traffic lights being fully green (i.e. not red and amber) and releasing the clutch.  Then I remember seeing a car directly in front of me driving across my path from left to right.  I braked hard but couldn't avoid my front wheel striking the rear offside of the car (a split second either way and she'd have T-Boned me straight into a coffin, or passed me before I reached her).  I then saw sky ground sky ground sky ground as I flew through the air, and landed sort of on my left side just as though I'd tripped and fallen over.  If it wasn't exactly a controlled landing, then it felt close to it.

The police officer reached under the trolley and picked up my helmet.  I then saw that it had a 3 inch split in it, running vertically just behind where my left ear would be.  I was not even aware that my head had made contact with the ground.  If I had not been wearing a helmet, then the split would have been in the equivalent place in my skull.  That, dear readers, is why I will never ever ride a motorcycle without wearing a helmet, even if I'm somewhere that it isn't a legal obligation. And I urge you to do likewise.

So I contributed my helmet to the study, and to my surprise and delight was given in return a voucher for an exact replacement.  A BMW System 3 helmet at that time cost about £300, so that was a bonus!

Honda Revere post-crash

In the photo of the bike on the right the only obvious damage is to the screen, mudguard and clutch lever, but look at the way the front wheel's pointing, and then consider the fact that the handlebars are actually pointing straight ahead!

So that put paid to the Revere and to my career as a courier.

My next bike was a red BMW K75RT (this type of BMW engine, the K series, is known as the Flying Brick, because of the shape of the engine block) which I had for a few years and put a lot of miles on it travelling from Glasgow to Turriff (in Aberdeenshire, some 180 miles north of Glasgow) at every opportunity to see my then girlfriend.

BMW K75 RT

Much comfiness, with ABS, heated grips, and a radio cassette.

It had one or two adventures, including more than one occasion when some drunken bastard pushed it over on the street.  I only hope they had tried to sit on it and it overbalanced, hurting them in the process!

 A year or two later, and a different girlfriend having become a new wife, I then sold it when we needed a car and couldn't afford to run both.

After a gap of about 5 or 6 years, in September 2006 I bought a BMW R1100RT (this type of BMW engine, the R series, is known as a Boxer, because of its horizontally opposed engine, I believe), which is a fantastically comfortable bike which does everything I want it to.  It also has ABS, heated grips, radio cassette, and an intercom so that I can speak to a pillion passenger, listen to the radio or my MP3 player, and answer my mobile phone if I choose to do so.

BMW R1100RT

In the photo on the right the bike is stopped in a passing place (naughty!) just above Rest and Be Thankful in Argyll.

It's the first time in my 12 years (so far) of motorcycling that I've had both a car and bike at the same time.  In the past as long as I could dig it out the snow and make it to a major road I'd ride it!  Now?  Well lets just say I've turned into more of a fairer weather biker, although to be fair I do use it to travel to work most days.

In late 2007 I decided that it was time I got round to doing something I've been meaning to do for a long time, which is to become an Advanced driver and rider, so I joined Glasgow North Group of the Institute of Advanced Motorists.

I passed my Advanced Motorcycle test on Sunday 2nd December 2007, and my Advanced Car driving test on Saturday 19th January 2008. I then went on to pass my Qualified Motorcycle Observer test, so I could help others towards passing their own Advanced Motorycle tests, but recently I decided to take a break from the IAM local group so 2010 will be my last season with them.

So that's my motorcycling history up to the present. Right now the bike's off the road with a badly slipping clutch that needs replaced at a hefty cost, but plans are afoot to get that rectified and by early 2011 with a bit of luck and some help from a colleague I should be back on two wheels, hopefully.

A dilemma

Recently I had occasion to be thankful to an honest workman when my Washer/Dryer broke down and the engineer, who stood to gain a couple of hundred pounds in repair bill, looked at it and gave me the opinion that if it was his he wouldn't bother repairing it but instead would just buy a new one as it was near the end of its (ludicrously short) working life.  So he gained nothing from it, because I took his advice.

Today I met another honest man.

Stevie Brierton is a motorcycle mechanic who has a workshop in the east end of Glasgow, not too far from Celtic Park, where Glasgow Celtic play football (that's soccer to our far flung cousins!) and he was recommended to me by a work colleague as being a good mechanic, and a nice guy.

My bike, my lovely thirteen year old BMW R1100RT with almost 68,000 miles on the clock, is well overdue a service.  In fact to my shame it's been about two years since it was serviced, which is a bad thing.  Recently, after the spell of bad weather over Christmas and New Year when it sat on the roadside gathering dirt, dampness, and God alone knows what, the clutch started sluipping and the revs seemed to stay too high, failing to drop when I closed the throttle, so it was clearly time to get it looked at.

I rang the local BMW dealer for a quote.  Certainly sir, they replied, and proceeded to quote me the thick end of £500 just for the service, before they even looked at the clutch or revs.  Ouch.

So I contacted Stevie.  Certainly sir, he said, for that service it'll be £200 +vat including parts (including vat that's about £235) but he recommended taking it in so he can assess what's wrong with the clutch and therefore how much it'd be likely to cost before he embarked on doing anything else to it.

So that's where I went this evening, feeling much better after having 48 hours of a stomach bug, the symptoms of which I won't horrify you with, and having been forced to leave work at lunchtime after managing to keep down my food for almost a full 15 minutes!

Stevie came outside to look at it, fiddled about underneath, checked the play on the clutch lever, and gave me the bad news.

£1000

Yes, that's right, about £1000 to get a replacement clutch, as he in fact had suspected when I described the symptoms to him on the phone.  On top of this there would be the £235 for the service, and he noticed that both tyres will need replacing very soon, so that'd be the thick end of another £200.

Since I don't have £1000 to spare I now have a choice.  Well, two choices.  I can sell the bike, or I can put it away off the road somewhere until such times as I feel I can spare the repair money.

The bike cost me about £3500 three years ago, but that was a private sale from a work colleague and I'm not really sure how much it'd be worth now.  Stevie thinks that since BMW is a popular type of bike I'd have a queue of enthusiasts wanting to buy it if I advertised it, so they could do the work themselves rather than take it to a garage.  He thinks in fact I should get about £2000 for it.

Or I could keep it until I can afford to fix the clutch, and anything else that goes wrong with it while it lies in a garage.

Hmmm.

Not sure.

Anyone reading this fancy a lovely 1997 BMW R1100RT, 68,000 miles, ABS, Radio Cassette, Electric Windscreen, Autocom, full BMW Luggage (panniers and topbox), two tyres on the borderline for needing replaced, needs a service, clutch slipping slightly?

What should I do?

Review of 2009

Well the choir of King's College, Cambridge are on the radio performing Nine Lessons and Carols right now as I sit here starting to type this, so it must be time for my third annual review.  How was Lay Clerk's 2009?

A bit mixed, to be honest, but then again such is life.  Much of what occupied my mind throughout the whole year concerns another person and according to the unwritten rules of Blogging which are solely in my head, I choose to keep that topic to myself.

Another unwritten rule is that I won't Blog about work, so apart from saying that I'm still enjoying it and we continue to be as busy as ever, I'll leave it there.

On the subject of work, a close friend was unfortunately made redundant at the start of the year, a victim of the worldwide economic situation, and for a few months went through a difficult time during which I hope I was there to offer what little support or help I could, and thankfully a new, better job was secured after a while.  Onwards and upwards.

I still sing with Glasgow Chamber Choir, mostly enjoying it but sometimes having to fight against my inner dislike of certain types of choral music.  On the whole it continues to be good fun, good musically, and a good bunch of people.

In 2009 my presence in the choirstalls at the Cathedral occurred more frequently and more regularly, and more or less every week I sing Choral Evensong on the Sunday, which I am thoroughly enjoying.

In about May the administrator of RSCM Scottish Voices, which was started the previous summer, resigned, and I was subsequently asked to take over that role.  It's been an interesting 6 months, most but not quite all of it interesting in a nice way.  I've registered a Domain name for the choir, but haven't yet got round to uploading the website which is sitting on my laptop.  In truth, this is mostly because I've forgotten how to go about having multiple websites hosted together but kept separate, since it's been such a long time since I did anything with any of my sites.  At some point I'll get the finger out and do it.  And if anyone familiar with creating and uploading websites to 1&1 using Microsoft Frontpage is reading this and wants to remind me how easy it is, I'd be obliged!  In the meantime I've also started a Blog for the choir, which is linked from the sidebar on the left.  If any RSCM Scottish Voices members are reading this for some reason, and they fancy having a go at sometimes adding choir-related content to our Blog, email me.

In May I sang with The Biggar Singers in an enjoyable performance of Morten Lauridsen's piece, Lux Aeterna, which involved about a hundred mile round trip every week to rehearse.  The choir's conducted and accompanied respectively by two members of Glasgow Chamber Choir who live down that way, and my few weeks of excessive travel pale into insignificance when set against them doing it every week coming to Glasgow.  And indeed two other GCC members travel from Dumfriesshire every week to rehearse!

A personal high point of the year was when I was asked to sing the tenor solo in a performance of Stainer's Crucifixion on Good Friday in Paisley.  My initial reaction upon being asked was "no thanks, I'm a chorister, not a soloist" but when I thought about it, knowing that I can actually sing the notes if not necessarily perform them as a "proper" soloist would, I thought why the hell not.  And so I did.  And it went well.  First time I've ever had my name on a poster! I have no ambitions to be a soloist, and while I'd possibly say yes if asked again, equally I am not at all bothered.

I paid another visit to Paisley later in April, but this time to the Paisley Beer Festival, which was most enjoyable and having been there two years ago is likely to become an annual pilgrimage, albeit I missed last year as I was in Calfornia.  I only went on one evening, but a fellow Cathedral chorister, Neil, took holiday from work and went every day.  Now that's dedication!

In July four of us from Glasgow Chamber Choir, having coincidentally and enjoyably sung solo parts together during a recent concert, decided to get together and sing together some more.  We've met twice so far, it's as much a social event as a musical one, and despite some (hopefully tongue in cheek) remarks from another couple of friends about "the elite group" it's just a bunch of friends singing, drinking and eating together.  We've performed together under the name The New Quartet in public once, a few days ago in a branch of a bank for charity, but who knows whether we'll do it again or whether it'll stay purely as a social event. 

After a break of 29 years, I met up with former schoolfriends at a wee reunion in Motherwell in April.  It was as though we'd only had a break of 6 months and we all got on great again.  An unexpectedly tremendous evening.  Another one, on a bigger scale, is planned for next year when it'll be 30 years since we left school.  And I foolishly offered to co-ordinate it.  It shouldn't involve much more than a few emails though, so should be OK.

On the subject of school, there is a sobering time in one's life when one's schoolfriends start dying.  In August Kenny Stewart was the first of us to go. Admittedly the lovely, intelligent, caring person Catherine Fellowes died in a tragic diving accident soon after we left school, leaving her massive potential unfulfilled, but Kenny is the first to die without having an accident.  He was one of my closest friends at school, and despite us having some differences in later years, you can't take away the fact that we grew up together.


In July RE and I made a weekend trip to the north east of Scotland to see friends, Stephanie and Martin, and to have a wee tour about.  It's an area of the country I happen to really like, and it was good not only to show RE round it, but to catch up with old friends at their barbecue. I've known Stephanie since the mid 1980's when she was a student at Glasgow University and joined the Cathedral Choir, so she's probably one of my oldest friends and although we don't see each other terribly often, it's good to catch up when we can.


In August my brother, his wife and daughter moved back to Scotland. They've been living abroad for about a dozen years, first in Dubai and then in San Diego, California.  For some reason they decided to come back to the Scottish climate, and it's great to have them here.  My niece, Jess, has joined the Cathedral Choir trebles, and seems to enjoy it I'm glad to say.  I was immensely proud to be asked to present her with her surplice at Evensong when she passed from being a probationer to being a chorister.  They hosted a Halloween party in October (on the 30th, funnily enough!) and the fact that they live in a castle (yes, really) made it all the more spooky!  Great fun.

August also saw a return visit to the World Pipe Band Championship at Glasgow Green, with RE, her cousin and his German girlfriend who were visiting Scotland.  It rained.  But it was a very enjoyable day despite the weather.

In September RE hosted one of her sisters, visiting from New Zealand, and I joined them for a trip to Linlithgow, their ancestral town.  It was the first time I've been there, and I can now recommend the Four Mary's pub in the main street.

In a much previous life I was a roadie and mixed the sound for a local band.  All very enjoyable, but in an amateur way.  A friend, Ian, does it for a living though, well, the sound engineer bit anyway, and ages ago I mentioned to him that if he was ever needing some semi-skilled labour (i.e. really unskilled!) then I'd happily come and lift and carry stuff around for him.  In September he called my bluff, and I found myself for two days being a roadie working on the sound crew at the Merchant City Festival in Glasgow.  With three outdoor stages and an indoor venue to be covered, it was hard work, a bit physical sometimes, and a lot to take in, but it was great.  I even ended up twiddling the knobs for one act, while Ian was called away to deal with a change of venue for another group.  All very basic stuff of course, but I'm glad to say Ian trusted me enough to leave me on my own, and I'm even gladder to say I managed to avoid fucking it up!  I'm looking forward to the next time, although I don't expect a change of career is due anytime soon!

The Institute of Advanced Motorists has taken more of a back seat this year, pardon the pun, although I did complete the necessary number of observed runs to continue as a Qualified Motorcycle Observer.  It remains to be seen however whether I'll continue next year.

I've started to get the flat a bit more sorted.  With the benefit of hindsight I realise that when I moved in I wasn't really in the right emotional frame of mind to do the decorating necessary, and as time went on I stopped seeing the faults.  I have now got as far as getting a quote from a decorator, and getting the hallway replastered.  Soon after Christmas I'll contact the decorator again and get him to come and do the business in the living room and hallway.


My general level of fitness continues to improve as I take advantage of the gym a few hundred yards from my house.  I even made it onto a running track with RE a couple of times, but that was very hard going at that time!  In the past few weeks I've slipped a bit, but my main New Year's resolution is to redouble my efforts.  And I WILL do it.

On a fitness topic, in 2009 I did something I never thought I'd do. I climbed a hill.  Not only a hill, but it was in fact a Munro. I've never ever ever been interested in hillwalking, and have been vocal about that opinion all through my life.  But RE persuaded me to try it.  Well I say persuaded me, but not proactively.  I just mean that her influence, unbeknownst to her, made me want to do it.  So she kindly agreed to "babysit me" up a hill.  I'd be lying if I said there weren't bits I didn't enjoy.  I slipped and fell up to my knees in a very cold stream; I slithered and slid my way down what was allegedly a "path"; I fell and staved my finger, but I bloody enjoyed it!  And I know that thousands of people do it every weekend and think nothing of it.  But this was me doing it.  Me who about a year ago looked as though he was about to expire after a very short climb up a set of steps to a scenic viewpoint in the Scottish Borders.  Me who a year ago hadn't taken any form of exercise for God knows how long, apart from when I tried badminton and spectacularly ruptured my achilles tendon.  Me who is a city boy who has always said he didn't mind walking as long as it was on a pavement.  This was me who walked up that Munro.  And it is still me who is immensely proud of having done it, and proud of his friend RE for having the patience, skill and perseverance to help me all the way.  Others may do it more often and with less effort, but we all have different abilities and different goals, and this particular achievement ranks highly for me.

So that's a potted history of Lay Clerk's 2009.  A mixed year, but generally a good one and ending better than it started.  Much of the above was Blogged about in depth at the time so if you've read this post in isolation it must seem pretty sparse of detail, and of course I've missed things out.  Not just deliberately missed things to protect other people's privacy, but simply because things will have slipped my mind.  Something which will hopefully never slip my mind though is to mention the love, friendship, and support of my closest friends, some of whom have been such for the thick end of 25 years, some for only a couple of years, but I value them all and thank them for their continuing friendship and support.  I won't name them, but you know who you are.  Thank you one and all.

Happy Christmas folks!

Think Bike!

Great roads, great rides

A good motorcycling video (in two halves) which demonstrates some of the advanced riding techniques taught by the Institute of Advanced Motorists, complete with commentary. The commentary isn't usual for a bike, it isn't even compulsory in the advanced car test, but it's something I am quite good at in the car (when I'm in full flow) and I often do it on the bike just to keep my hand in!

Part I



Part II

First IAM in over a year

Today being the second Sunday of the month it was the Glasgow North Group of the IAM motorcycle run, and a good run it was, albeit the first one I've made this year I have to confess! In fact it's the first one for me for just over a year, because the last one I was on bored me so much by being a slow procession of bikes, apparently unable to overtake anything!

So this morning five of us turned up at the assembly point at PC World at Finnieston for 0930hrs and we decided that the weather forecast suggested Ayrshire as a viable route.

Down via Barrhead, Stewarton and Kilmarnock to the A76 where we then turned off towards Ayr and then headed south past the Electric Brae (negotiating a 35mph car driver on the way!) and Turnberry (where the 2009 Open Golf Championship will take place in July, apparently) to Girvan where we partook of variations on fish and chips in a local cafe, followed by some Nardini's ice cream while we wandered over to look at a substantial (and bright yellow) trike parked at the harbour, which turned out to be for hire. The rider/driver, who was sitting nearby, didn't appear over-friendly it has to be said, since whereas normally bikers will happily chat to each other he sat there five feet away and pretty much ignored us. Prick. And he is, I think, the one sitting on the bike on their homepage, if you followed the link. I suspect he's trying to pretend he's Billy Connolly! Did I ever mention I had lunch with Billy Connolly in Glasgow a few years ago? I'll bore you with that story sometime!

So anyway, after having travelled south to Girvan our route became, ahem, a bit flexible, and we trekked north east a bit to Maybole before heading back down via Kirkmichael and Straiton then across to Dalmellington (which from a personal point of view was nice as my relatively recently passed-away grandmother got married there a number of years ago) before heading to New Cumnock and then Cumnock where we did the usual final starburst and went our separate ways (although we did lose one at a pre-planned split earlier) with three of us continuing east along the A70 to Douglas and finishing with a blast (at a maximum of 70mph, of course, M'lud) up the M74.

I covered almost 200 miles on the day, which was marked by glorious weather for most of the time apart from the stretch from Dalmellington onwards when it rained reasonably heavily, although it had cleared up by the time we were reaching Motherwell on the M74. And I saw a spectacular forked lightning strike at one point on the hills in the distance ahead.

A day well spent, particularly considering that I had forgotten about it and coincidentally passed PC World just after 9am and saw two bikers assembled there so changed my plans and joined in instead

On an unrelated topic, the Glasgow Chamber Choir concerts last weekend were a spectacular success. Glorious music performed, I have to say, bloody well! The fly in the ointment was my overindulgence of Hendrick's Gin after the Sunday concert, leading to the mother of all hangovers on the Monday which at least I'd had the foresight to take off as a day of flexi leave. This was the start of four days when I took no alcohol. Me. Who drinks every day! Never again. Honest. Coincidentally I passed the Hendrick's Gin Distillery today near Girvan, Made me feel queasy when I saw the sign!

Went to see Angels & Demons last night with RE and thoroughly enjoyed it. Good film and good company. Followed by some Mexican food, and a walk along the riverside at Glasgow city centre to the new pedestrian bridge, known apparently as the squiggly bridge, a name presumably linked to the squinty bridge which was opened a year or so ago further down river. A day well spent.

Tap & Spile - the pride of Morpeth

I went for a bike ride at the weekend because the weather was far too good not to!

It was a decent ride of some 350 miles or so, from Glasgow across to Edinburgh, to Dalkeith and down the A68 through the Scottish Borders to Coldstream where I crossed into England, down further through Wooler and then a stop of about an hour in Morpeth in Northumberland, where I lived for a few years about 15 years ago.

After lunch (drinking soft drinks of course) I then went down to Newcastle upon Tyne, across the Tyne Bridge into Gateshead, a quick toilet stop at the Metro Centre, back onto the A1 north, and then over the A69 to Carlisle where I joined the M74 north back to Glasgow.

Morpeth is a lovely wee market town, and one of the best bits about it is the Tap & Spile pub in Manchester Street, where I went on Saturday.

The Tap & Spile is without doubt my favourite pub of all time, and is 99.9% responsible for getting me into Real Ale. Well, I think that's a good thing anyway!

So, if you're ever in the area of Morpeth, you could do much worse than to pay a visit to Margo in the Tap & Spile.

Great Real Ale, great home cooked food at weekends, and a real homely, friendly atmosphere. It's the only pub I've ever considered as my pub, the only place I've ever thought of as my local, and I've never found anywhere like it since moving away from the north east of England back to the west of Scotland.

update: apologies for the crap layout of this post, but for some reason the line breaks aren't working and despite editing it 5 times now it still isn't working properly. This is perhaps related to me having to finish composing it using Internet Explorer because for some reason I haven't been able to work out, despite all the FAQ's and help files on Blogger, the "upload image" button has stopped working in Firefox. Grrrrrrr!

Trip to Tighnabruaich

Trip to Tighnabruaich, originally uploaded by Lay Clerk.

A brief stop off at Tarsan Dam during a 150 mile round trip across the ferry from Gourock to Dunoon, around to Tighnabruaich, and up round to Strachur then back to Glasgow on Sunday morning.

The judicious use of a fence post and the self timer allowed this rare photo of me with the bike, rather than just the bike!

I really must get round to doing more trips this summer. After all, what makes riding the bike all year round worth it, is the extra enjoyment of riding in good dry weather for a brief period in the Scottish summer!

If you follow the link by clicking on the photo, I think it should take you to my Flickr site, and from there you can see a few other images from Argyll at the weekend. It really is such spectacular scenery, that it makes me slightly less jealous of a former school friend, AS, who now lives in Tucson Arizona and with her husband enjoys long motorcycle rides in the desert (as well as an host of other outdoor activities). She sent me some stunning photos recently. Glad she's doing well.

Yes Boss!

On June 9th 2007 I blogged about my new acquisition, an Oxford Boss Alarm Disc Lock, which to cut a story slightly shorter (go read that post instead) is a security measure for the motorcycle.

Well it runs on 6x LR44 batteries, the small disc shaped ones you get in hearing aids, and since buying the alarm I've changed the batteries only once, after a bit less than a year, which isn't too bad at all. But they ran out again recently, so I bought replacements, Energizer ones, from B&Q at a total of almost £8 for three packs of two.

Having replaced them (successfully, surprisingly, hunting out an Allen Key of the necessary size in the process) I put it all back together again and took it back outside to the bike, but when I attached it and set the alarm, instead of the usual

loud short bleep

pause

loud l-o-n-g bleep

which indicates it is set, it went

almost inaudible short bleep

pause

almost inaudible l-o-n-g bleep

which was a surprise!

I looked up t'InterWeb and found Oxford Products' site, and called them. The gentleman I spoke to, William, was very friendly and helpful, but said there wasn't actually anything that could really go wrong with them, so suggested trying a further set of new batteries and failing that to return it to where I'd bought it, which was J&S Accessories in Hamilton, and even though it was over a year old they could sort something out for me

So off to another shop I went the other day, and bought three packs of Duracell ones, at around the same price as the Energizers. I changed them this afternoon, but to no avail.

Another call to Oxford Products, and this time I spoke to Rosie, who was equally as friendly and helpful as William had been, and she suggested changing the Alarm Module (the bit where the batteries go).

So all I had to do was contact the shop I'd bought it from, they'd order one from Oxford, and I could go and swap them over when it arrived.

Ooh, hold on, I said, how much will this cost me, after all the alarm was about £60. Oh, nothing, she replied, we'll do it under warranty! For an item I bought over a year and a half ago!

Fantastic service from the manufacturer.

So I then telephoned J&S and explained what I had just been told.

Hmmm, the staff member replied, first time I've heard of that. That's the problem with them promising the earth, they don't have to deal with customers over the counter. What's the OF number?

The what?

The OF number. We need to know what model it is.

It's the Boss Alarm one.

Oh, but they do loads of different models.

What, all with alarms?

Yes.

I checked the receipt, their receipt, and managed to find the model number, OF3.

Oh, I've never heard of that one.

Now as an aside, I've since looked on the manufacturer's Website and the OF3 Oxford Boss Alarm Disc Lock seems to be the only one with an alarm.

So we were getting nowhere fast.

He then came up with the problem that they would need to inspect the item before deciding whether to order the replacement bit.

But the manufacturer has already said it'll be a free replacement under warranty, I said.

Maybe, but we'd still need to raise a purchase order to them and we wouldn't do that without inspecting it first, so can you bring it in and leave it with us, we'll send it back and then when the replacement arrives you can come and get it.

But this would leave me without any security on my bike over and above the steering lock.

Well why not call them and have them send you one direct.

Ah, we're getting to the nub of the matter, I thought. This is a lazy bastard who doesn't want to have to deal with this and is trying to pass the buck back to the manufacturer. So to cut this saga short, I cut the call short, after getting his name, and called the manufacturer back.

Rosie, again, was as nice as can be, and after first suggesting I send it back direct to them after which they'd send a replacement, she accepted that this would leave my bike unsecure so she asked that I email a copy of my proof of purchase to her and she will post a new module, on trust that I will then send the faulty module back. Which I will, obviously.

So, praise where it is due, I will certainly use Oxford Products again, and I encourage others to do so too, but J&S, well fuck them! I have in the past bought a fair amount of stuff there, but will not do so again. And it's all down to the unhelpful attitude of one employee.

Make your voice heard (maybe)

Click here to sign the petition

Here's something think is worth considering, from one of the many petitions on the UK government's Downing Street site:

"Changes to the law mean cars emitting less than 100g of CO2 per kilometre travelled would be exempt from paying Vehicle Excise Duty (road tax), while motorcycles are still required to pay.

This was outlined by your Chancellor Alistair Darling in his first budget last week, under the auspices of rewarding motorists for driving ‘green’ vehicles.

Despite Darling’s aim, the rate of road tax paid by motorcyclists is set to double in 2009, with the annual charge for a typical 125cc commuter bike set to grow from £15 per year at present, to £33 in 2009.

This makes a nonsense of the revised rates of vehicle excise duty, as motorcycles tend to emit less CO2 and use less fuel than cars, with the average CO2 output from motorcycles at 110g/km.

So why do those who ride greener two wheeled vehicles, use less road space and do not contribute to congestion get penalised whilst 4 wheel motorist whose vehicles use under 100g/km are exempt from road tax .... makes a mockery of your plans"

Consider following the link and signing. I have. Thanks.

Anniversary

It's one year since I passed my Institute of Advanced Motorists (IAM) Advanced Motorcycling test. Right now the bike is parked on the street outside the house, covered in frost! Advanced rider or not, I chose to take the car to work today!

Car v Car v Car

Had the chance to use my "stay where you are I'm a trained First-Aider and I'll help you in any way I can" routine on the way home from work this evening.

Didn't get the chance to change into the Superman costume unfortunately, but never mind!

I was on the M8 heading west from the general area of Glasgow Airport towards the Erskine Bridge (how boring must that be for those reading this who know nothing of the geography of Scotland, and only marginally less boring for those who do!) and I reached a sudden tailback with both lanes not really moving at all, for almost a mile as it turned out. Fortunately I was on the bike, not in the car, so took full advantage by using the special "courier lane" which is always denoted by the white line dividing the lanes the cars use! I also switched repeatedly from dipped to full beam, just to make my approach a bit more visible to anyone thinking about changing lanes or opening their doors suddenly (which can happen in such tailbacks).

As I made it towards the front of the queue I saw that in the fast lane there was a car stopped with its hazard lights flashing, and as I reached it I then saw that there were in fact two other cars stopped in front of it. Very close in front of it in fact, with contact made between the rear two of the three, and various bits of debris about the carriageway.

Now normally I don't get involved, and I had no intentions of doing so until, at the last minute as I passed the RTA (Road Traffic Accident, or in fact I believe they're now known as RTC - Road Traffic Crash to take cognisance of the opinion that there's no such thing as an accident, it's always someone's fault) I pulled into the fast lane in front of the front car.

Wearing very fluorescent safety gear, and being confident and aware of what's happening around me, I had no qualms about walking around on the carriageway, since the traffic was going very slowly indeed as it filtered down into a single lane to pass the obstruction.

I approached the front vehicle which was directly behind the bike, and inside which the female driver was sitting using her mobile phone, and made sure she wasn't injured and that someone had called the police. She confirmed that she was fine, and told me that one of the three people who were standing across on the hard shoulder and who had come from the other two cars had called the police.

I carefully crossed the carriageway to the hard shoulder, making sure that I had eye contact with the driver approaching and making sure he was in no doubt I was about to walk in front of him and I was in no doubt he was going to let me!

The three females standing on the grass verge looked a hell of a lot more upset than the first, older, lady to whom I had spoken, and all three of them were very teary-eyed, and although one said she had a bit of a sore chest where the airbag had deployed and another said she was 4 months pregnant, none of the three had any actual injuries. None that they mentioned when asked anyway.

The driver of the second car, although I hadn't ask what had happened, told me that she'd no idea why the front vehicle had suddenly executed an emergency stop right in front of her and leaving her no time to stop. I made no comment at the time, but the rule is, I believe, always that the car that runs into the back of another is always at fault. You should always be able to stop within the distance you can see to be clear. Oh well, that's for the police and insurance companies to sort out.

The three females on the verge also told me when asked that the lady who was still sitting in the front car had called the police, who should be on their way, and one of the three standing there had also called a breakdown/recovery company.

Hang on. Did they say that the driver of the front car had called the police? She told me that they had called them. Oh well, better to be safe than sorry, so I called them to make sure.

A few minutes later a traffic car appeared and blocked off the fast lane, and then a well practised routine swung into action. After ensuring that no one was injured, one of the officers collected the sets of keys for the cars and, while her colleague stopped all the traffic, all three were moved to the hard shoulder, and I moved my bike there too.

I helped a bit by lifting the biggest bits of plastic bodywork off the carriageway, and the traffic was allowed to move again.

The officer asked me if I had seen anything, and when I explained that I had only stopped to make sure no one was injured, she allowed me on my way, with a "thank you for stopping".

So there you go.

My initial first aid training was a number of years ago when, in a previous life, I worked for Strathclyde Police as a Turnkey, and I am told that the level of training Strathclyde provides is the equivalent of that which Paramedics receive apart from the administration of drugs and intubation (tube down the throat) which Strathclyde rightly doesn't teach.

As a Turnkey I used my first aid skills if not on a daily basis then certainly more than once a week, dealing with all sorts of things from cuts and bruises, epileptic fits (or clonic tonic seizures as I seem to remember they are called), unconsciousness, drug overdoses, drug withdrawals, Delirium Tremens caused by alcohol withdrawal, wounds caused by knives and broken glass (the guy had been thrown through a window during a fight), chest pain, anaphylactic shock (mild, fortunately), and pretty much anything you can think of. All life was there!

Not now being a Turnkey and no longer working for Strathclyde Police, these days I don't often have cause, thankfully, to put my training to use, but it's always nice to know that the skills should still be there, lurking under the surface and ready to present themselves if necessary. So I'm glad I stopped this evening, even though it turned out that no one had been injured.

It's hot hot hot

As I start to write this it's now half past four in the afternoon of Wednesday 22nd October here in very sunny and very warm San Diego, southern California. The temperature today down at the water was forecast for about 78deg and inland was to be about 98deg. That's almost 26 degrees and almost 37 degrees Centigrade, for those who like me work in those figures and for whom Fahrenheit means nothing! It's bloody hot anyway! And I forgot to put on sun screen this morning. Oh well. RE will kill me!

In my last post I mentioned what we did on Sunday morning, and on Monday.

Yesterday, Tuesday, we headed a little further afield, to the Mount Palomar Observatory in fact. Operated by the California Institute of Technology (Caltech), which coincidentally is who our friend MB, recently formerly of Glasgow Chamber Choir, is now employed by, but in LA (or somewhere nearby) not at Mount Palomar. He's a physicist, and at his leaving party in Glasgow a few months ago (he had been working at Glasgow University) I asked him, as someone who has passed Higher Physics and who has a keen albeit passing interest in "popular" science, what he actually did. Ten minutes or so later, MB had explained to me in really simple terms how he was involved in a world wide experiment relating to gravity waves, and I understood not one word! RE and I are visiting him at the end of next week on our way back home. Oh, did I mention that RE, who is currently in New Zealand, is making a stopover for a few days and joining me in San Diego?

Anyway, the observatory is at the top of a mountain. Mount Palomar in fact, funnily enough. It was a spectacular drive up an extremely twist road, and I took over at the wheel of D's Chevrolet Trailblazer with its 4.2 litre engine and automatic gearbox, part way up the mountain. An interesting experience, not being at all used to left hand drive vehicles (although I have driven them a few times in the past) and not being familiar with the US system of road markings and the rules of the road.

There's not a great deal to see at the observatory, apart from a single room museum nearby (fairly small but quite interesting), and of course the 200 inch Hale telescope, which is HUGE! Well worth the trip though.

Coming back down the mountain, we took a different route part way, and headed to the traditional western town of Julian, which is an historic gold rush town, now famous for its apples and the pies and cider therefrom! We sampled neither, but my brother told me of a previous visit with a couple of friends from Scotland, D & L, when D was horrified to discover that the cider he'd just bought and drank was in fact alcohol free!

Julian is a lovely wee town, and there are some good shops too. Next time I might try an apple pie! And the roads round it are really good, and would be excellent for biking on.

I forgot to mention, at breakfast yesterday we tried Einstein Brothers Bagels instead of Starbucks. The bagels were great (Egg sandwich with bacon and cheese, on an onion bagel) and the orange juice was exceptional, but don't believe their website when it claims darn good coffee. The coffee wasn't great. While sitting outside waiting for my brother to come out with the Bagels, I overheard half of a telephone conversation which made me glad to live in the United Kingdom, and very appreciative of the National Health Service, with all its faults.

The phrase I overheard, which requires no further comment from me, was:

".......I'm not having the heart procedure, because it costs way too much money......."

We rounded off yesterday by having a bit of a barbecue and then watching a DVD, Ben Stiller in Night at the Museum, which if you haven't seen it I would suggest not to go out your way to do so. Harmless and inoffensive, but not the best! I enjoyed the company though.

This morning, Wednesday 22nd October, we mixed and matched at breakfast, finding an Einstein Brothers Bagels next door to a Starbucks, so we had orange juice and bagels from one and coffee from the other, and sat outside in the shade.

Off then to Balboa Park and to the museums. Specifically to the Air and Space Museum and the Automotive one. The Air and Space one has loads of interesting stuff including the Apollo 9 command module, and the Automotive museum has a large collection of Ferrari cars. Again, both well worth a visit. It was $15 each to get into the Air and Space Museum, and $8 each for the Automotive one, although D received a $4 discount to that one for being a member of AAA.

One of the things I experienced in the Air & Space museum was a flight simulator of a fighter aircraft, an F-18 I think it might have been. Let's just say that after my first barrel roll and loop the loop, I was glad I hadn't been to the diner this morning for the size of breakfast I'd had on Sunday! Very exciting though, particularly the upside down bits! Made me glad of the time I've spent in the past using Microsoft Flight Simulator, because at least I knew which way to move the stick!

Leaving Balboa Park, we headed for the Old Town of San Diego, which was fantastic. Lots of history, and lots of shops with the staff dressed in traditional costume. Certainly worth another visit and we'll go when RE is here.

Lastly, for the out and about stuff anyway, we found a Harley Davidson motorcycle dealer, and went in for a look round. More chrome, leather and tassles than you can shake a stick at! Just like the H-D dealer in Glasgow, in fact, only much much bigger.

Before coming here on holiday, I had considered hiring a Harley Davidson for a few days and riding part of the Pacific Coast Highway, but when I started to look online at prices I realised that I wasn't all that bothered! However, when I was engaged in conversation with one of the dealer's staff this afternoon, he mentioned hiring a bike for 8 hours, and it turns out this only costs $59 (plus maybe $20 insurance and the cost of fuel too) and for that I can choose any bike. It also includes helmets, although no other protective gear is supplied. Watch this space!

So that was today. I'm currently relaxing in preparation for some nice steak tonight, and maybe some beer or some wine.

Happy birthday

One hundred years ago today, on 18th October 1908, the man in the photos was born.

William Yuill Young was my grandfather, and he was a sergeant in the 1st Battalion of the Scots Guards.

Having traced my family tree a bit, I have an idea of what his own ancestry was, but strangely, considering this and the fact that he died in 1972 so I do actually remember him, I don't really know that much about the man behind the photos.

I remember he was tall, tall anyway for our family at around six feet, and I remember he had tattoos on his hands of birds. Bluebirds I think. And I believe that's a traditional military thing of that era.

I understand that the photo of him on the motorcycle was taken in Pirbright camp in Surrey, probably some time during the second world war. Still haven't worked out what sort of bike it is!

Anyway, this would have been his 100th birthday. Happy birthday papa.


Unrelatedly, it's currently half past three in the morning and I can't sleep.

I'm off to San Diego today, and my flight from Glasgow to London is in four hours, then from London to Los Angeles four hours after that. It's going to be a long day, because I arrive in California just before 3pm local time and I guess I'll be awake for a while after that!

Hitler gets the wrong bike

Even more incompetence

I'll give you the short version of this.

A couple of posts ago I spoke of the incompetence of the staff at my local council-run gym when they tried and failed to make an appointment for me. Well tonight I turned up (again) a good twenty five minutes before my appointment for my gym induction session, to find the whole building closed and shuttered, and a single A4 piece of paper sellotaped to the shutter addressed specifically to a slimming class which apparently normally meets there, advising them to go to a local church hall instead "because of the strike".

THE STRIKE!

The bastards have gone on strike! No official notice anywhere on the building. No prior warning. No courtesy call to my mobile number, which I gave them last week (twice), to give me a heads up not to turn up. No, they were quite happy to let me make my way there only to work out that they were on strike by reading a notice addressed to a slimming class.

Do they get my sympathy for their wage claim? Do they fuck. Will they get a third go at giving me a gym induction and thereafter will they get my monthly Direct Debit for membership? The jury is out. If I can find a privately run gym close enough at a reasonable rate then I'll go there instead. I don't like poor service, and that's exactly what this place has provided twice so far.

So instead I went to the IAM Wednesday night run. I was in time for it this time (just) but all the associates had already been paired up with observers, so I linked up with another two "spare" observers and we rode together up to Balloch, near Loch Lomond. And a most enjoyable ride it was. And since I missed the start of the pre-ride gathering, I missed the announcement that tonight was the last Wednesday run of the year, which I only found out by accident in conversation in the McDonalds restaurant at Balloch. If I'd not been told, and had turned up next Wednesday, I might have thought the IAM Glasgow North group had been taken over by council workers!

Incompetence

The incompetence of the average person working in the service industry in Britain never ceases to amaze me, although I really shouldn't be surprised.

This evening I turned up at the gym 10 minutes before my appointment, only to find out that the person to whom I spoke last night hadn't in fact made my booking on the computer and since there was only one member of staff working in the gym there was no one available to take me through my hour long induction.

So it has been rearranged to next Wednesday.

So I also missed the IAM Wednesday run, because by the time I got back home after my fruitless trip round the corner to the gym, I didn't quite have enough time to make it to the assembly point for the run. By the time I got changed, onto the bike, and rode the 5 miles, everyone had gone.

Good and bad

The cartoon on the right is great.

In almost every choir of which I've been a member, every one of the characters depicted has been a member. I'm sure I've probably been some of them at various times too! And in fact, I proudly admit to being The Traditionalist.

Thanks to Sir Monocle, from whose Blog I shamelessly stole it!



Two things mark today out as different from the norm.

One year ago today, I became divorced. This was not a good thing. Not at all a good thing.

And this evening I went back to the IAM Glasgow North Group for the first time in almost exactly two months, and was asked, given the long break I'd had, whether I wanted to sit the Qualified Observer Practical Test which they'd been waiting to offer me. Which I did want. And did do. And passed. This was a good thing. A very good thing.

So, the divorce. Amicable, yet these things are never ever painless. In retrospect, and with the clarity of 20/20 hindsight, it was the right thing to do to separate. Yet one never truly gets completely over such a thing, and by that I don't want to suggest that I wish we were together again. We have both moved on and, I think and hope I'm right in saying, we are both happy. I know I am. Every now and then though, in the privacy of my own head .......... well, you know, it hurts.

The motorcycling then. I haven't been back to the IAM for a while. There have been reasons for this, which I haven't Blogged about, but I will now. In fact I can copy and paste part of a posting I placed on the IAM Scottish Motorcycle Forum a while back. The rest of the post is of no relevance here, but the following bit might be:

"........ As an aside, right now I'm not sure whether I'll continue along the route to being a qualified observer, but that's because on one of my last runs I had a bad time of it over the Duke's Pass, and now, if the truth be told, I have a confidence crisis as far as my riding is concerned. I know the object isn't to go as fast as you can, I've never been of that opinion (I ride an R1100RT for God's sake!) but my associate on that run left me standing and I really didn't enjoy that evening, ending up feeling like I'd no right to be observing. The senior observer helped that evening, pointing out that in his opinion the associate had been riding too fast, and being of the opinion that I shouldn't have tried to keep up with him (that's where I went wrong), but the mental damage was done by then! I'll hopefully get over it at some point, but I don't feel like going back for the moment.

.........."

The Duke's Pass, for those outwith these shores, is a VERY twisty country road north of Glasgow, and during that run I was so far outside my comfort (and probably safety) zone that I felt sick. I have never previously ridden, and will never ride again, any motorcycle let alone a 44 stone tourer at that sort of speed over that sort of public road. And for the avoidance of doubt, at no time did we come close to breaking the speed limit.

So what prompted me to return? Frankly, it was the list of names of others who had recently passed as Qualified Observers which was in the quarterly newsletter I received a few days ago. I thought, if they can do it, then so can I. One of them in fact started out on the observer training the same evening I did.

I still, in the dark recesses of my warped mind, think I am pretty new to biking, since I didn't take it up until I was well into adulthood, so I tend to think that every other biker I meet has more experience than me. But then I consider the facts.

• I passed my motorcycle test in 1996, 12 years ago. Almost all the IAM associates to whom I've spoken, and a hell of a lot of the full members, have been riding for less time than that.
  
  
• Most motorcyclists ride maybe up to about 5000 miles a year. I worked as a bike courier for a year, riding about 1000 miles a week in all weathers. That was a steep learning curve. Last year I rode about 8500 miles.
  
  
• Until my present bike, all previous ones have been my only form of personal transport so I rode them all year round. If I could dig it out the snow I'd ride it. No fair weather biker, me.
  
  
• I passed my advanced riding test after only 4 observed runs. In other words, I was already pretty much at the advanced standard and just needed polishing up on some points.
  

And suddenly my confidence crisis disappears. And the weight lifts.

It's a bit like singing. Years ago, a LOT of years ago, I was occasionally asked to sing a solo in the cathedral choir. I would manage it OK, but would tremble and shake so hard while performing it that I could hardly focus on the music in my hands! For no good reason, out the blue, I had an internal conversation with myself, which went along the lines of "Fuck it! If anyone listening to this could do it better than me, then they'd be up here singing it, so I have nothing to fear." The shaking then stopped. I'm not for a moment suggesting that I am a brilliant singer, that's not the point, it's just that one needs self confidence to do certain things, even if that self confidence doesn't necessarily stand up to close scrutiny!

But that's enough Blogging for tonight I think. I am halfway through a large glass of whisky, partly to drown my sorrows on this anniversary, partly to celebrate having passed another milestone in my journey towards being the best rider I can be, and partly because I am happy having spoken to RE earlier, who always cheers me up, makes me laugh, and makes me feel wanted. Thank you.

Insurance. The sequel.

Ah, the satisfaction in a Scotsman's heart when he knows he's saved himself some cash! It's a warm feeling, I can tell you. I may celebrate by having a small whisky later. Oh, OK, make it a large one!

Regular readers, if there are any, will remember that I had a bit of a runaround recently when trying to renew my car insurance because I had the temerity to have passed my Advanced Driving test, and I also wanted to add an extra driver to the policy. This culminated in me saving the thick end of £200 by choosing a new insurance company. I mentioned in that post that I had the same hoops to jump through when the motorcycle insurance came up for renewal later this year.

It's now later this year.

About a week or so ago I was bored, and went online to get some quotes for the bike. About £160 was the best quote, which compared pretty favourably with what I have been paying. I was only looking for an idea of what I might end up paying, but I made a fatal mistake. I filled in the box when they asked me for my mobile number. Since then I have had daily phone calls from an 0871 number (most of them missed, since I don't have access to my mobile while at work) which have been the insurance company trying to give me a better quote. And that's without me telling them whether their online quote was good bad or indifferent. So today's tip, children, is don't give them your mobile number. Give them someone else's if you must, but you will be plagued by unsolicited Spam calls (are any Spam calls solicited?)

Anyway, today the real renewal letter from my broker arrived on my doormat. To renew with the same insurance company was going to be £287, but the broker suggested an alternative quote of £168 which seemed more reasonable.

So I called IAM Surety, and this time selected the "motorcycle insurance" option rather than the car one. To cut a long story slightly shorter, they are quoting £145 including Class 1 Business use so I could use my motorcycle for work (those who know me will realise that I can't do this!) and would be covered while doing any IAM Observing. It also includes Protected No Claims Discount (which the existing broker didn't) and Legal Cover (which the existing broker also didn't) and allows me Third Party cover to ride any other motorcycle as long as that motorcycle is insured by someone else. On the face of it a damn good deal, which makes the IAM annual membership worth the £18 (plus optional £10 to belong to a local group).

I called my existing broker, because after all they have been fine to deal with for the past couple of years and when I first went to them they managed to secure me a big wodge of No Claims Discount even though I hadn't had a motorcycle for a few years so probably wasn't really entitled to it. They checked, and checked, and finally came up with a comparative quote, including business use, protected no claims, and legal cover, of £155. Still about £11 more than IAM.

Except.

The IAM membership fee is probably going to rise from £18 to £28 a year soon (although fortunately after I have renewed for this coming year at the old price) because of their (I believe self-confessed, but I could be wrong) mismanagement (there is apparently a HUGE shortfall in funds) which is being VERY much talked about on the IAM members forums. So including the optional membership of the local group, there is an extra £38 to add to any IAM Surety Insurance quote, because if you aren't a member you don't get the special price.

And let's not go down the route of pointing out that becoming an advanced driver/rider is plugged by the IAM (and rightly so) as a Skill for Life. It's even called the Skill for Life Package! So if you then stop being a paid up member of the IAM do you instantly lose that skill and become a less safe driver/rider who will be more prone to being involved in an accident and therefore more likely to make an insurance claim? No, don't be bloody stupid, of course you don't. So anyway, I am going to continue with IAM membership for the next year, because it's at the old price, but if at the next AGM the proposed increase gets the thumbs up, then they will get the two fingers up from me for the following year. maybe even the single finger too. So if I leave the IAM I won't get a good price from IAM Surety (if they even quote me at all) for subsequent years.

Coincidentally, after speaking to IAM, I received another call from the 0871 number, so allowed them to try to get my business. They went through all the guff I'd already provided online, failed miserably to extract from me my email address, landline number, car insurance renewal date, and house insurance renewal date, and came in with a quote of £197. At the end of the call, when I told her she was way off, I asked if the daily calls would now stop, and sounding rather crestfallen, she agreed that they would.

So I have pretty well decided that I'm going to stick with my current broker, Websters since you ask, and pay £11 more than the IAM Surety quote, but with the knowledge that I can stop my membership if I want without having to dick about changing insurers again.

So, in summary. To renew with the current company (Norwich Union) would be £287, but Websters recommended an alternative at £168, and managed to chop it down to £155 with lots of extras thrown in when they were presented with some opposition.

I've saved myself £132 on my bike insurance this year, making a total saving on vehicle insurance of £317, so really I've got one of them for free compared with last year!