Born To Be Wild

On Sunday evening I made the brave decision of using the motorcycle for work this week. The plan was simple: fly out of Lincoln on Monday morning, zoom past rush hour traffic at Nottingham and arrive at work half an hour sooner than I would in the car. In fact the plan was even better than that: use the motorbike on Tuesday morning to ride to Tenbury Wells (a small town in the middle of nowhere), blast down to Gloucester for a meeting and then charge back up the M5 to return to Norton Canes.

The reality, however, was somewhat different: discover a flat battery on Monday morning, have the worst ever rush hour journey to Norton Canes, ride through torrential rain on Tuesday morning and discover that the bike was leaking oil straight onto the back tyre, costing me £96 to fix. I'm feeling somewhat beaten right now, and almost regret not having driven in the car.

I say 'almost' because the bike, quite simply, is awesome. It's such fun to ride and so easy to ride quickly. It only needs the first two gears to do everything that my Astra can, and it's wonderful to be the fastest thing on the road instead of the slowest. I didn't see a single vehicle today that could go any faster than me. That is something that makes me smile, and makes me feel that the decision wasn't such a bad one after all.

I do need to write some words of explanation to the driver of the very dark coloured Mondeo on the M5 this morning. As a motorcyclist, rearward visibility is not great. As a motorcyclist in pouring rain on a motorway filled with lorries throwing up spray, visibility becomes somewhere close to zero. So when I pulled out into the outside lane having checked my mirrors and having checked over my shoulder, finding you flashing your headlights was a bit of surprise. What you may not understand are the subsequent gesticulations that I offered to you: the first was self-explanatory; the second, whilst looking like a scuba-diver's sign for an octopus, was to try and explain to you that putting your headlights on might help a little bit. A dark car on a dark day in the pouring rain with only sidelights? I haven't a chance my good friend.

Of course now I have to apologise to my mother who, if she has read this, will be slighly worried about my motorcycling antics. Mum, please rest assured that I always ride sensibly, if not always slowly.

I have one more trip this week: my return journey home on Friday. I'm looking forward to it, no doubt about it, because the back of a motorcycle is, quite simply, the best place to be.

technorati tags: motorbikes, rain, car drivers