Last weekend I found myself on a drizzly Saturday avoiding a Tommy Robinson demonstration in Bournemouth and taking it easy before what was going to be a busy evening of socialising and dancing at a black tie evening.
The weather had started to change, it really felt like autumn and as I hid from the march and the weather in a waterstones cafe with a pot of tea. I noticed the beautiful people around me and it led to drifting thoughts of an enchanting woman…
Dreams of Autumn
I dream of an autumn woman, with warm auburn hair, one who wears mustard and olive sweaters and ribbons in her hair. With a scarf around her neck and a complexion so fair, contrasting her warm brown eyes as she gently stares.
I dream of an autumn woman, the type that kicks the leaves, and spins, smiling and laughing at the nesting mess she leaves. Frollicking so happily in the cold autumn air, as her hair catches in the wind and she dances without a care.
I dream of an autumn woman, who’s not afraid to show her scary knife skills as we carve pumpkins and prepare for all hallows. Her witches hat on crooked and a smile that shows, despite the sweet aroma of cinnamon and pumpkin spice, she knows how to be just as naughty, as she does nice,
I dream of an autumn woman, so warm, so cosy, so free, with a little giggle as she passes that fills me full of glee. A glee that comes from the knowledge that with her by my side we can hibernate together till spring time brings us alive.
At the end of August I was walking with my family in Winchester, we cut through the back of the cathedral, wound round through the gates and under the arch way. Hidden in a back road there, a fantastic little bookshop, the sort where a 100 years of patina blesses the shelves.
I went in for a scan, and after perusing a few books I couldn’t help but overhear the two shopkeepers talking, one was asking the other about the plan for today. As I read the back of a book I un-intentionally overheard a fantastic line, as the small slight woman, dressed embracing the start of autumn behind the counter said not loudly but crisp in reply “I want to tidy religion”.
I had to hold back my smiles as my mind chewed over this line, and after purchasing a book and continuing on our travels, some 45 minutes of walking later through St Cross we stopped at a Pub and I had to note the line:
” I want to tidy religion”
The initial visual I had to go with this had bounced around and over the last few weeks the below poem has formed…
Shopkeeper vs Deities
I want to tidy religion. Said one shopkeeper to another. To me sculking in the pages I couldn’t help but let my mind wander.
I want to tidy religion. Such a statement, said so proud. But did she mean as an idea or the shelved section I had found.
I want to tidy religion. It echo’d round my mind, passing quickly through several thoughts, some entertaining, some serious of sorts.
I want to tidy religion. I thought I am sure you are not alone, but where do you begin? Which religions do you call home?
I want to tidy religion. It continued to echo, as I questioned alphabetising by deities or group be theme. Do you prioritise on similarity or level of mainstream.
I want to tidy religion.
There it rang, as the thought of this woman, Jesus by the ear, and Brahma by the hand, with all the other deities and beliefs across the land, holding council and demanding like a mother so profound, we need to get this mess in order before the inlaws come round!
Some days I don’t just feel it, I bath in it, I dunk my head below the surface and let it soak into my pores until, like your skin pruning I have soaked in it to lone, at this point it doesn’t wash over me like water and leave me feeling clean. Instead it clings to my skin like tar.
But even then I don’t let myself free, I smear it all over myself making sure there is no chance of escape from the putrid cocoon it creates. Feeling a sick comfort in it’s all encompassing embrace, fulfilling that which I cannot find in the outside world, often I don’t fight it but embrace with open arms almost like it is overdue and after recognizing it and our normal ritual I curl up in bed with it still on my skin and retreat into acceptance under the covers with a hope that in the morning it will be gone, lost to the night like so many things.
At times it stains me for days on end, I cover it over at work and in the general public but in the moments alone it is there just waiting. I let it rip into the skin and draw blood not physically but emotionally, attacking all my insecurities and drawing them to the surface. Often this is not because it needs to but because I can’t help but flagellate myself with it, to hold it over myself as punishment.
To the outside world my mustache, jovial nature and smile make it invisible, but it is not a complete camouflage, those who know how to gently peer round the facade see it but quick as a flash it is normally hidden from sight, faster enough least to avoid real suspicion, faster enough to avoid the real questions and for them to just think I am pondering or having a bad day.
Some days I wonder what it would look and feel like for me to just curl up in the corner and cry, or breakdown in a meeting in front of everyone. I imagine that like a kid feeling guilty for something and getting caught, it would be a welcome release, to rip myself open and throw my loneliness across the room for all to see. However, it wouldn’t change anything it would be a temporary reprieve, I am under no illusion that to change my position in life I have to own the changes in my life that are necessary in there multitude and significance.
For now I exist in a constant flip flop, between feeling extremely connected to some people and extremely alone. I can stand in a crowd, be surround by friends, chasing a sunrise, crashing through waves on a yacht or doing a million things but at best they are a temporary reprieves. I try at times to stitch the together to extend the reprieve to remind myself what not being lonely looks like in a hope that I will further imitate and in time align with those behaviors but it is exhausting.
Whats scariest to me is that it didn’t used to be this way, yes I was always different and didn’t quite fit always ahead or behind my peers, depending on perspective. Always slightly strange, always feeling things in a depth that warrants strong actions but when I act on it, it unnerves people, so I don’t I hold back my natural grandiosity and tame myself to just outside accepted norms.
One area where people do value my time is in council, maybe it is a reflection of who I am and how I act but I find myself asking “Why am I always the council and not the company”, people are comfortable telling me there deepest secrets, of showing me there dark corners, or of wanting my input and advice on there lives on there progression through life, but they don’t want that person to just chill or spend time with, I am always present with a purpose. What happened to the care free fun in me, when did I become so ugly.
For now I continue to fight, to cling onto the light, tomorrow is a new day and it is mine for the taking, if I can just get myself out of bed dressed and caffeinated anything or so I am told is possible.
Some days that means stoking the inner viking inside me, of charging myself full or raw survival energy facing the wind, rain and seas. Or setting off to find a new dawn, a new place to see the sunrise a new to feel it’s warmth bath my skin in fresh light, to smell a different fresh sea air or crisp morning dew. Of having that chance warm encounter with a complete stranger in the most unexpected of places.
Other days it is the simple pleasures, the cosy coffee shop round the corner, where I read about the adventures I dream of whilst watching the weather roll by, or eating out, for whilst I have always been lonely I have never been afraid of doing things alone. Often because finding people who will actually take the leap of joining me is hard, but I keep hope that one day someone will want to join me on all the adventures.
Here’s to putting the left foot in front of the right no matter how you feel, of continuing in hope to stitch the temporary reprieves together to create a better existence.
Context
The above comes from me feeling lonely earlier this week, and the conversations with friends and family that followed it. I realized I had never put to words how I at times feel and it seemed a good descriptive writing exercise.
I think most people feel lonely at times during there lives, and whilst not aesthetic or nice like my normal traveling posts I think it is important to talk about all parts of life.
For clarity I am alright, I am standing in a Carbon Kopi a place that serves some of the best over the counter pick me ups in it’s fantastic selection of award winning ever changing filter coffees.
I am now going to go back to writing up my journey to the Scilly isles, hopefully I will finish and share it soon, with all the amazing photos I have to go with it.
The alarm buzzed, I was about to hit the snooze as I normally did, but then I remembered why it was chiming at this ungodly hour. 04:30 who’s idea was this, oh yeah mine…
I wasn’t under my normal duvet on a plush double matress with a feather pillow, I was twisted up in a sleeping bag, with another spare sleeping bag in it’s travel bag as my pillow.
I slept relatively well up forrad in the v-birth only stirring a few times in the early hours in anxious excitement for the day to come. Sliping my alarm off I noticed another alarm going at the aft of the boat, and the sounds of movement, well atleast Dad’s up as well. It was is fault as much as mine the plan for this Satuday’s early rise had been the result of a planning weekend a couple of weeks previous , we were going through the calendar to get some dates in for building up my nautical miles and getting me familiar and comfortable with handling the boat.
“You could get a quick ‘Round the Island’ in at some point if the tides were right, have a look at the tides in the summer” working back from august it soon dawned that the reason the round the island this year was in early June was due to where Saturday morning tides best fell for a reasonable time morning start. Looking at some of the dates we already had in we realised that the weeked 7th – 9th of March whilst a little early could be an ideal oppertunity. The tides were certainly feasible, as we got to within a week weather forecasts were looking promising so I practiced drawing up a passage plan and we talked through the details Wednesday evening to make sure we had a solid plan, there it was set we would aim to leave the berth at Ocean Village at 05:00 get round the island and get back in time for a late dinner.
Now the day was finally here, last night I had driven straight down from work and over dinner and a beer we had talked through the finer details for the morning and prepped a few last final things for a smooth departure. Jumping out of the V-berth, up forrad, I spent a penny, it is nice to have your own loo on a boat a rare luxury on a 36 footer, I stood up after and opened the front hatch and propped it up. I find this easiest as I am too tall and so its most comfortable to stand in the middle facing the front of the boat hanig locker to my left toilet and sink to my right and the V-berth infront of me, the top of my just popping out the hatch. My eyes are just at a level where I can peer out at the marina, it wasn’t raining and there was signs of a breeze, Win!
I use this full height area to get dressed, knowing it’s going to be a long day out in the weather, the time is now to get the layering system needed right, it was due to be around 10-13 degrees and whilst the sun might break through there would be cloud cover and between 10-20knts of wind. I start with stretching my legs bringing them up on top of the loo cover and putting on my socks making sure they come up as igh as possible before pulling on a set of running leggings as a baselayer. Doing it this way round locks the socks in place under the leggings and helps prevent them moving around on a long day like today. I throw on a light weight short sleeve summer walking top to create an area that will wick well and breath close to the skin before putting a thermal longsleeve high collar baselayer over the top.
I then pull two extra layers out of my back for later in case I get cold as well as a thin snood, then pull my trousers on manageing to head but the edge of the front hatch opeing as I do “ouch f*cker, thats a good start to the day”, I can hear dad moving around sounds like he is having a sink wash and brushing his teeth, it reminds me to do the same so I grab my wash bag and pull out the sink to brush my teeth at the same time putting some deodorant on. I’m pretty much ready and so turn to getting my lifejacket out the locker, putting on my watch, stowing my loose items like my kindle and keys in my waterproof bag and zipping my phone and gloves in my bright yellow rain coat pockets.
I grab my boots out the locker and open the door to the saloon, chucking my boots, snood and extra layers on the saloon seat just under the mast. With everything done up forrad, I move bits to where I think they won’t move and then start my checks, seacocks on the loo check, seacock on the sink, I think to myself dad doesn’t normally bother as it’s so high up it should be fine. Ahh hatch, I close it up properly and make sure to push the sliding handle wedges into place to make sure it is fully shut. The kettle is on and I prep two mugs for tea and my yeti thermos for a coffee I will want that later and won’t necesarrily want to spend time below to get my caffiene fix.
In planning last night we agreed that we would get out of southampton water and make our porridge on the run to hurst castle, thus there was nothing more to do then run through the rest of the checklist.
Hatchs, Seacocks, Instruments, Loose items stowed my favourite loose item stowage is the use of the microwave to store plastic tubs, and the space in the cupboard infront of the microwave for the kettle. Dads getting geared up, safety straps are in place and he has closed the rear compartment hatches, and rear heads seacocks, stowing his loose gear in the aft cabin and heads as he goes.
He goes above and we stow the washboards, and he starts taking the shore power off whilst I remove the boom stay line we put on at mooring to keep the boom out the way, whilst he is on shore we half up the mooring lines. With both back aboard he calls down into the saloon from the cockpit “What final checks should you do before we start the engine” I know he has already checked the oil before I got there, I verbally run through the general checklist, getting to it being in nuetral and not being able to think of anything else. “You need to take the steering lock off and check for loose lines” I have already visually checked it’s in nuetral and he goes to remove the steering lock.
Due to various things being currently worked on the engine start is in a unique location, all the way at the aft of the boat at the foot of the aft cabin on the bed. It’s on a wire out from the void behind. It’s normal location up in the rear of the cockpit is taped off, the plan is to make a 3d space that fits the curve of the boat better and stops the control panel from cracking, as well as a new acrylic cover as the old one had completely crazed and cracked. However this hasn’t been done yet and to keep sailing whilst this work occurs its been relocated to the aforementioned foot of the aft cabin berth. This requires me to squeeze sideways throw the aft cabin door, I only ust fit with my gear on boats weren’t designed with baby silver back gorillas in mind, before lightly launching myself head first and commando crawling to the foot of the berth, finding the panel and turning the key for the most agregious alarm to sound until you hit the starter button. I do this and as I get to the end of the berth I remeber that I didn’t check the battery kill switch now located where my feet are and hope that it has been left on. It has and as I hold the start button for what seems life forever the big diesel lump churns over and over attempting to fire before finally coming to life.
I get a call down from the cockpit to log the engine hours and I take the oppertunity to also make sure that when dad had turned the instruments on and started the track it had in fact started. The raymarine plotter, really a crap android tablet, with some special buttons and features is a nightmare! the menu’s have been designed and layed out by an intern who choose one half of the locations whilst on ket and the other whilst on speed and then rolled a dice for good measure. There are two routes to get everywhere but never quite to the setting you want, and whilst the GPS and AIS start up, after everything has turned on, it sits there having a siezure between the two nomatter how many times you hit okay and tell it to be quiet whilst they get there relative electronics up and running and locked in. But ofcourse it must be good because you can watch netflix on it and install apps, just what you want a chartplotter for… the raymarine track is started and I log the engine hours. Whilst doing this I am reminded to also put the steaming light and bow and stern lights on and with this, we’re ready!
I head up and take the helm and stern line, realising we had missed a rear spring line I quickly pull the boat forward against the spring to remove it and whilst dad walks forward to take middle spring off and take control of the bow line. I cast the rear off and put us in gear as Dad casts the bow off, theboat is parked in the berth aft too so it’s a straight chug out and round the finger to get out and we are off.
Dad brings the fenders in as I navigate out of Ocean Village, just outside the entrace on the way upto dock head we sort the lines and I pass the helm across to go forward to practice heave the main at the mast. After having a little snag on a reefing line caught on a clutch it went straight up, Dad whilst single handed sailing has found this much faster for getting the main up then using the winch and he normally does this himself with helm put onto autopillot. Having pulled up the main on the central winch several times a couple of years ago, I agree with his conclusion that hand over handing it at the mast is much easier and faster whilst also being easier to see what the main sheet is doing between the jackstays whilst you go. Motor sailing out of dockhead in the dark we round to port onto southampton water and unfurl the jib and we kill the engine, it certainly different coming out of there in ther dark and the light pollusion from the dock side is horrendous for your ngiht vision with lots of high brightness floodlights.
We had aimed to setoff at 05:00 by by the time we actually left the berth I noted the time was 05:15 and now went down below to enter this on the ships log. We sail down southampton water the next mark of importance is Calshot spit, we deal with some early morning traffic between a couple of big ships, ferries and some form of pilot vessel as we do the dawn starts to really break and we get the first indication of how much of a beautiful day this will be, it is not yet warm and the breeze is crisp but it feels fresh and the sky is clear and a reasonable breeze can be felt. I was still charged with anxiety and adrenaline for what the day will hold, whilst I had wanted to snooze this moring the moment I jumped out fo the v-berth that was it, I was pumped and focused for what the day had to bring and now as I sat in the cockpit we were underway and all being well we would make it round the island before I would see southampton water again.
Approaching the entrace to the Hamble, another sailing vessel appears and cuts across infront of a couple of ferries to the calshot spit whilst we hold on to go behind them. It looks like they are well crewed with atleast 4 people on board and around the 33 ft mark, we jest at what there plan is for the day. Are they a training vessel out for practice or possibly doing the same as us, little did we know they would be our competition for the day…
After passing Calshot spit we pass across the channel towards the Royal Yatch Squadron and the Gurnard boy so that we properly cross where the start line would be for the real Road the Island race, I go down below and add more times to the log, we had made good time and had been at Calshot spit for just after 06:00 this was ideal from a tide point of view so a strong start. Whilst we sailed towards hurst they took the south coast of the mainland whilst we ran closer to the Isle of Wight to try and take advange of the best part of the tide.
It was time to get breakfast on, I went below and got the kettle on for another cup of tea, unfortunately feeling queesy as I do, I have to come back to the hatch and take in the fresh air and centre myself mentally. I manage to do this enough to make porridge taking my time to constantly return to the hatch and breath. Until the porridge is done and as I lean over the pan to server it I get a full breath in of fresh porridge smell, for some reason this set me right and I was suddenly feeling much better though not quite 100%. I sat in the cockpit eating porridge and honey from the pan and drinking my tea as the sun continued to come up behind Dad on the helm, what a glorious morning it was turning into and it was good to feel the warmth of the sun on my face.
I took the bowls below and prepped them with boiling water to soak, grabbing my pre-prepped thermos as I cam back up before taking helm on the final part of the run upto Hurst. Dad headed below to wash up and check the AIS, the boat we were running with was called Crème de la Crème and we were keeping with it for now…
Riding in Gran Canaria at the start of February had been so warm and refreshing but all the joy of that adventure had worn off by the start of March, the long dark winter days were starting to take their toll. Taking every opportunity to get out on the Goldwing was key to getting some enjoyment, after all, it’s amazing how much a decent coffee and slice of cake can pick up your mood. I was also trying to keep my focus on the busy social calendar I have lined up for the rest of the year, a mix of stag do’s, and weddings acting as suitable excuses to take some holiday and plan some more travel from May through to September.
It was with this future travel in mind that when later in March a friend invited me last minute to go motorcycle camping even just for a night I agreed, I needed to get my camping setup shaken down anyway with a trip in September planned that involved camping in France and Spain. That is how in late March and in temperatures down to below 5 degrees C I found myself shivering and watching my breath through the middle of the night whilst watching my mate blissfully asleep inside his cozy warm sleeping bag. There was one point where the thought of killing him and stealing his sleeping bag passed through my cold poorly aligned thoughts but It was my own fault, I had forgotten my sleeping bag and was doing my best Viking impression with a blanket and some layers on top of a camp bed. Despite the negatives of the cold and a stranger in another tent howling like a wounded animal in the middle of the night for an extended period, it was an enjoyable trip.
The small campsite in Stockbridge, Hampshire was pleasant and the meal we had had at the pub before settling down for the night was sublime. The next morning after getting feeling back in my extremities and packing up we had a beautiful ride through the back roads to Salisbury, then down to the coast before coming back through the new forest and washing the bikes. The next day, both back at work, it dawned on us that it was crazy that we hadn’t done more trips like this so we looked at calendars and stuck a pin in for the 19/04. We both booked the Friday afternoon off so that we could have two nights away and left it till later to find a site and a direction.
On the short trip in March, it had become clear that we had forgotten a few important things, and that some of the items I already had wouldn’t be practical for my trip in September due to needing the rear seat space for a pillion. Therefore in the month we had until our next adventure, I started working on a few optimizations to my setup.
Starting with the items of highest importance, condiments, sun cream, and washing-up liquid all of which had been distinctly absent in our Stockbridge trip. Finding some small bottles online turned out a great idea, the only challenge being where to put them on the bike. We don’t want to get ketchup on everything nor do I want my sleeping bag covered in extra virgin olive oil. The next item to shrink was my camping chair and to review my tent and sleeping arrangements. Helinox luckily had a sale but it was still painful shelling out over £100 for a lightweight camp chair that would both take my sizable heft and fit neatly in a pannier. I could at least take comfort in the color scheme of the chair being suitably 90’s and therefore matching the retro aesthetic of my GL1500.
I then started to look at new tent options, I wanted small and lightweight but also practical for me plus another in motorcycle gear to be able to get in and sleep. Whilst my current tent had a sizable headroom and a vestibule you could sit in keeping this just wasn’t practical and I had a tarp and poles if I wanted to create a sheltered area outdoors for cooking etc. I came very close to taking advantage of the AlpKit sales and ordering a Tarpstar 4 and some other bits, however, I was too slow on the draw and they were soon out of stock and back up to higher prices. Therefore wanting to use the trip on the 19th as a shakedown I went forward with my backup route and picked up a Vango Banshee 300 and a new OEX sleeping mat. The 300 is definitely not a 3-person tent, 3 children or three adults if sharing one sleeping bag and playing a game of 696 but definitely not more than 2 burley guys especially if you want somewhere for your clothes. It does have a little trick hatch/zip up the top by your head to a small storage area under the flysheet though. Some of my previous gear including waterproof bags had been on my last bike when it was stolen, I figured it was time to replace them and picked up some fresh Lomo rolltop bags for clothes and other storage.
My real remaining challenge was my sleeping bag, I had since picked it up from my dad but it is bloody massive and doesn’t pack down very small. It’s massive because I am, having 18 months earlier ordered what was meant to be a reasonably large camping bag and finding myself stuck at the shoulders I had marched back to go outdoors and return it. I then proceeded to try every sleeping bag they had in stock to work out what I could physically fit in, in the end leaving with a Pod ‘The Beast’. Its lining is not particularly plush, it is not down and it is not 4 season but it is the best I could do reasonably at the time, with this in mind I kept looking but reserved myself for the 19th to the idea that it would have to be squeezed on somehow…
The day came around all so quick, with a little bike-packing practice and a BBQ in between having the trip to look forward to had been a good move and had kept both mine and Owen’s spirits up as the days had started to get longer and notionally warmer. We had decided that given how much both of us had traveled west and how little we had both gone east, we should head east a couple of hours. With a little searching, I managed to find and book a nice campsite a little east called Stud Farm, it was both one of the cheapest and most appealing due to it offering the optional addition of a firepit and logs as well as the farm own produce such as sausages, bacon, burgers, and fresh veg.
With the bikes loaded we set off, I had looked the night before and roughly memorized a non-motorway / a27 route that would hopefully take us on some nicer roads and avoid the Friday holiday rush that the east and west artery roads of the south can suffer.
The journey there was extremely pleasant and we managed to avoid most of the Friday traffic and the rain that was due for an hour or so that afternoon, only getting caught as we headed up the A3 from Clanfield to the A272 north of Peterfield. This was enough though to lift the grease on the road and remind me that the tyres on the wing whilst not terribly old (4 Years) seem to really suffer with wet grip. I suspect as a result of the previous owner not doing many miles and sitting in a garage likely wheels losing the natural oils to the cold concrete. In this instance despite significantly reducing my speed as we exited the A3 onto the A272 via the ‘s’ bend exit I found myself with 400kg of Goldwing, 155kg of fat rider and Rukka gear, and probably about another 40-50kg of stuff in panniers and top box, loosing the rear end. I managed to catch it and run the bike wide across the left hand solid white line as I left the ‘S’ bend into the straight in time not to make a full dukes of hazard style jump off a dual carriageway bridge. I thought maybe I had let my nerves get the better of me and I had let the bike run wide premature of losing grip, but a sharp burst of exclamation and praise over the comms made it clear that I had in fact lost the rear end enough to be noticeable from behind.
This wasn’t my first such experience on the wing, having locked up the rear wheel in the cold about 6 weeks prior on the way into a roundabout, that time had definitely been my fault for using too much rear brake though it had made for a rather impressive drift, whilst I did everything I could to not target fixate on the roundabout curb and force the wee beasty round the bend. Since then I had been further getting acquainted and retuning my barge control skills and finessing my understanding of the balance of the bike, In the dry my confidence and lines had greatly improved from when I first picked the bike up at the start of the year but the wet was still vexed me at times.
Camp setup with the wind blasting across on 19/04/24
Luckily downpour was short-lived and as we stitched through Steadham, Midhurst, Petworth and Billinghurst the weather warmed and it turned into a beautiful Friday afternoon ride through the south downs. After a brief snickers and fuel stop we headed down the A23, thoroughly confused by the nature of the junction to get onto the A27 we ended up doing a minor detour a mile or so in the wrong direction before looping round and filtering the barge and the bus through some traffic. The road out towards Telscombe from the A27 is lovely bar a small village section with speed bumps it flow through trees and fields, catching the signage for the camping just before southeast we turned off up a steep single-lane slightly gravelly track. This track opens out over the top of the hill and it’s a beautifully stitched single lane with great visibility over the rolling farmland and any approaching traffic, after a mile or so of undulations, sweeping bends, and beautiful views you head down into Telscombe village it is a classic farm hamlet of only a few houses in the dip of a valley. At the gravel-covered rough road surface ‘Y’ in the basin of the village you go straight over to the left and up another climbing stretch before a gate and steep gravel entrance to a field appear on your left, as soon as you pull into this field you are met with a view across to Peacehaven and Eastbourne. Stud Farm Camping is on a Studland and it is breathtaking, the small collection of reserved signs and around 8 other camps suggest that we are not the only ones that need to be out in the fresh air and weather for a weekend.
Firstly apologies for the lack of content and thank you for your patience it has been a challenging summer both at work and at home and I have been frazzled. In practice this means I have about 5 partially written articles waiting to be finished for you I will get them out…
I have now lived in High Wycombe for just over 4 years, when I first started my current job and moved to the area the general consensus was that Wycombe was a ‘grey’ place. To the point that there is an ongoing joke at work that Dulux have a paint shade called Wycombe grey, they don’t but maybe they should as to some extent Wycombe is a grey place. Maybe having grown up in Winchester I am spoilt with it having the beautiful Cathedral, the water meadows and St Catherines Hill, pair this with the cobbled streets, historical architecture and things like the Christmas market and it’s a definitely different from High Wycombe.
However High Wycombe has started to grow on me, not in quite the same way as I will always love Winchester but I am slowly finding that it does in ways have a fair amount to offer. In fact I think if I were more affluent or could afford to have a house with a garage in High Wycombe I could see no issue with settling here longer. However unless I find a rich partner in crime this is highly unlikely and not being able to properly settle here is the most likely reason at some point for me looking for a new job and lifestyle. One thing that has helped my opinion on High Wycombe is that back in May I moved closer to the town centre, to a point where I have spent more time walking around the centre of the town more than ever.
The appeal of High Wycombe to most is that it is within a sensible commute to London to it’s east whilst on it’s north and west sides you are minutes from the beautiful Chilterns. A classic London belt town in that sense, with high property prices for poor quality houses, the average house price here being around 14 times the average salary a single above average salaried person here will struggle to be a small 2 bed flat even with a 30% deposit.
Walking around close to the University it is clear that the town is working to pedestrianise the core areas, there are nice cut throughs, benches and new buildings going up (more up market small flats)that have more colour and character than those around them. There has also been a long standing petition to uncover the river Rye that runs under the town, which I personally think would probably make a massive difference to High Wycombe. I think if you were looking at it from a traffic and planning perspective it would be wise to also establish a ring road. At current the A404 and A40 run right through the centre of the town and trucks on steep hills just splurge out damaging particles into the air.
The improvements that have been made are having a difference and therefore High Wycombe has grown on me, I don’t think I will ever be at a stage where I am calling it a beautiful town but I can now see more of it’s merits and I think it has more to offer than it may first seem. For this reason as I walked back from the town centre today I came up with an idea, what if I were to try and capture another view of High Wycombe to share with the world over the next year.
So here is the challenge, over the next year I am going to take photographs around High Wycombe each month I will then pick a favourite from the month. Collating 12 Pictures at the end of the year that I think show the best of High Wycombe. Maybe even make a calendar…
After a week of souring temperatures for the UK it is a welcome relief to have had a breeze through the night and a comfortable temperature so far today. To some degree maybe I shouldn’t complain to much as I do have the pleasure of working in a nicely air conditioned office, but it still doesn’t stop the evenings, my time, being a time filled with sloth like movement, humid stickiness and brain fog.
For those of you here for the travel and motorcycling side of my blog you might as well step away for this one, probably little of this post will interest you. Apologies I know I still owe you a couple of post lock down routes and promise I will get to them.
So if I am not talking about bike then what am I talking about, in short pondering, reflecting, ruminating, thinking over, deliberating… It’s something I estimate I spend at least 2 hours a day doing and it can be a valuable skill, however over played rapidly becomes over thinking a state I often find my self in. Once there it can be a terribly disruptive state that leads to a stuck thought loop or when severe a positive feedback loop. For me pondering isn’t a skill I have been taught it is something I have always done, ever since I reached my teens the active level of my inner voice and consciousness has been high. I have since then refined my control of it and tried to optimise but it is still very much a work in progress.
There are days when I know I will likely have a conversation with a certain person or on a certain subject, if it is something difficult or that I am anxious about then I start the conversation before getting there. Despite generally coming across, as passionate, confident and an extrovert I am often anxious or uneasy, I have just got good at covering it up. The preparation for a conversation that I think will likely be difficult is often dry running through various outcomes or directions that conversation could take, if I am anxious about it at the start of the day I normally start this analysis of the possible outcomes in the shower, followed by getting dressed and then as I continue my normal routine. And it is the routine that allow that thought process to be the active part of my brain whilst other tasks are subconsciously completed. Often the my thought process in the dry runs turns to the more aggressive and aggravated responses I could give, I think about it as getting them out now before they are left to linger and come out in the real conversation but like any one I am far from perfect at tailoring my language at times.
Other times when I didn’t predict a difficult conversation and it hit me unprepared, these are the day where the analysis is after the fact. At times this ties up my ability to move forward or past conflict or difficulty for longer than I would like. Being stuck re-analysing my language choice and the other persons reaction and body language if I can see it in these remote times. If I care about the impact of that conversation enough this can ripple on for days, creating actions and planning changes in my behaviour with that person or scenario for next time trying to account for the emotion that might be behind all parties in the conversation and the factors that are driving there perspectives.
The difficulty with it is knowing when to think and ponder my situation or a possible up and coming situation and when to let it go, accept that despite my intention and best efforts you can never keep everyone happy and I will continue to make mistakes. Knowing when this past couple of years has been harder than ever, my writing style, directness, dyslexia mean that I don’t always come across best in writing. I am much more comfortable with verbal communication, with reading direct body language and tonal feedback. And whilst video meetings enable some of that it is still different for me, there is still something that is disconnected in my inbuilt communications adjustment. The resultant this year is that in isolation my brain has been filling in more of the opinions and angles than ever, instead of asking it has run with its internal status / decision / predicted viewpoint for people and that has been often to my detriment.
However the key thing with all of the above is to keep looking forward and establish direction and desires, my ability to ponder when timed correctly and with the correct data fed in is incredible powerful. I just need to learn to use it better, to enable the outcome of it to be more positive and productive.
I remember reading somewhere that we think that releasing anger reduces the risk of violence or that angered behaviour but that actually the opposite is true and that if you are angry or have pent up aggression actively remaining calm and trying avoid anger over time reduces feeling of anger in those situations and increases peaceful behaviour. Given that this is true for behaviour, it is likely true for thought, maybe I need to think more often of positive possibilities in conversations and situations.
Some people like to work in active shorts steps starting and then correcting, often doing things that could be easily avoided over and over. Others like to think for significant time before acting, planning and exploring before deciding. I think I fall the majority of the time in the latter camp, after all I have to think about how I am going to tidy up my room or the garage before I even start and sometimes that can take months. Neither approach is necessarily wrong it depends on the task or scenario at hand, for instance long thinking before acting is the complete opposite of advanced riding IPSGA is a continue feedback based system that can be restarted at any point.
I wonder if there is an IPSGA equivalent for difficult conversations?
Where was I going with all this, I don’t know, I guess I think that more people would benefit from actively pondering, as long as it is not left to be a solo activity where the only opinion or voice that you are pondering is your own.
It has taken me way to long to get another update out on this so apologies, the quick update is that the YBR125 is completed and with it’s new owner. However getting it to that stage didn’t go to plan…
Getting It Running
Wind back to the start of April and I had the week off, one of my prime goals for that week was to get the YBR running and ready for an MOT. In my last update I had bolted the shiny bits on and had parts coming to confirm my diagnoses of the Fuel Pressure regulator, it turned out my diagnoses was correct. After draining the tank for what felt like the millionth time I took the fuel pressure regulator off of the donor pump and removed the rust filled one that was on the existing pump assembly. Bolted it all back together and filled it up with some fuel, it immediately sparked into life almost on the first stroke and rev’d cleanly unlike before.
However all was not well, I immediately rolled it down the drive to test that it would go through the gears and thats when it tried to wheelie on me as I kicked it down into gear with the clutch in. The years of sitting had obviously not been kind to the clutch which was now seized.
So i tried a couple of quick tricks first, getting the bike properly warm and the oil properly flowing then dumping it into gear. Laying the bike on it’s side for. few hours to try and let the oil soak and loosen up the clutch plates… both to no avail so I set to with probably the most major job I have done on the bike, replacing the clutch. At first it didn’t want to come apart with the kick start level and starter motor live bolt fighting me so I left it soaking in Plus Gas for 48 hours and came back to it.
A gear puller I had picked up in between made light work of getting the kick start off and despite the starter motor live connection bolt being now made of toffee (the rubber cover acts as a nice water bowl for this to sit in) I managed to work it loose with some mole grips after removing the exhaust for better access. Which for the first time in my lifetime the exhaust head bolts came out as if they had just been put in, I can only assume it was the liberal Plus Gas and patience. Everything now out the way I was able to remove the side cover and slide it off, followed by unbolting the clutch springs. After which the clutch pack came out as one, the friction plates and metal plates all stuck together with rust.
With them removed I decided it wasn’t worth cleaning them and putting them back in as the friction material was likely compromised and I didn’t want loads of small rusty particles flowing round the engine in the shared oil. A new Gecko set was ordered and a couple of days later with a new gasket and some minor swearing after sheering a bolt and having to drill it out and replace it was back together with a new fresh clutch.
MOT Day
Once some insurance and tax had been sorted I got an MOT booked and that is when I realised I was missing a few things I needed to put it back together, a little rifling through the spares draws later and some suitable bolts and fasteners were found to get it looking back like a bike.
I had also after getting the clutch done managed to do a better job of refitting the screen, engine bars and fitted the new Chinese chain oiler which fits and works a treat. Unfortunately I didn’t get round to fitting the hand guards because they didn’t quite clear the levels or so I thought.
Anyway it went in for the MOT, riding it up the step hill to the estate was fun and took me back to being a kid again. I laughed my ass off all the way up the hill… After Failing initially on headlight aim, the local garage are excellent and they just got on and corrected it for me for no charge and put it back through passing with two minor advisories. 1. corrosion on the front forks (I knew about this but it wasn’t effecting performance or leaking dangerously). 2. Bent front brake lever, it’s obvious when you look at it and explains why the hand guards wouldn’t fit but somehow my brain had just chalked it down to a weird shape lever…
Finally it was ready to go to it’s new home, now I just had to get it there.
New Home Day
It’s new home in the New Forest is about 80 odd miles away from mine, so I made a day of it and gave the bike a proper shake down in the process. I started with a ride from High Wycombe to Winchester for 9AM to meet a biking buddy for breakfast, I actually got there decidedly early the bike not missing a beat and managing to carry my heft up to 55mph on the flat.
YBR in the centre of Winchester
Following breakfast it was on to meet another mate in Chandlers Ford and take a ride with him upto Portsdown hill on the back roads like we did when we were first biking as teenagers most nights… Then back down from Portsdown to the New Forest to pick up a tent before heading to it’s final destination.
Surprisingly capable bike luggage wise..
Just before this my mate had point out the tyres looked a little low, I hadn’t checked them as they had new rubber and had been inflated when fitted. Although they weren’t dangerously low they were not at the recommended pressure for the load so I cranked them up to the correct pressures. What a difference, the bike suddenly was more eager with my weight on hitting 65MPH on the flat and no doubt capable of reaching 70MPH with a longer run.
The new owner was most pleased with her new bike and putting her CBT to practice, here are some photo’s I took before the ride down. There are a couple of minor finishing touches that needed doing, the L plates needed fitting, the under tank plastic air trim things needed fitting and the hand guards that are still in my garage will be fitted at a later date after the level has been straightened.
YBR before the long ride down south…
Overall the bike did about 150 miles that day with my rather heavy body on and some bits in the top box / on the rear seat for sections it didn’t miss a beat and the chain oiler worked a charm. I am looking forward to joining it and it’s new owner on some rides hopefully in the not to distant future.
What did it cost in the end…
With purchasing for £150 I was hopeful that it would work out around the £500 on the road but with the extra issues and sprinkling a few accessories for better comfort and for the bikes long term betterment it came out at just under £800 and thats not accounting for fuel to get it down to it’s new home.
Overall this is still a good preposition as it has new brakes, tyres, chain and sprocket. Thus everything it should need general wear and tear wise for the next couple of years is covered. With a clean and a few finishing touches I reckon I could easily sell this for £900 and more likely get 1100-1300 for it on the current market. So although I was never in it for the profit, it at least is never going to be a loss if I were to need to sell it. However it just goes to show that even a 125 with cheap parts and that has low miles and should be a gem of a project can still rapidly rack up a hefty parts bill. If I had paid more than £150 I would be in the red…
Last year this was a new location I did a couple of rides too, the first was just one of those evening where I didn’t feel like sleeping. I queued up a route knowing I needed to be in the new forest for breakfast about 9ish, the route across was really challenging and not the best, going directly across the center of London. However the route across the south to the New Forest was fabulous and with clear roads and a full tank I did it taking a large chunk of time off the initial GPS estimate. The sun rose beautifully int he sky as I made progress and there was just a fantastic feeling of being alive. To then get to the new forest and have a good coffee and fantastic cooked breakfast it was one of my favourite days.
The second attempt was with my girlfriend at the time, pillion, this changed the route across meaning we went below London and across. This was a much better route to Margate but I had timed it wrong and so the sun had already started to rise when we got towards Margate, though this wasn’t the intent. We ended up getting a breathtaking view across the fields on the road from Canterbury. We then road back taking are time as the day turned into a 35 degree scorcher, stopping for a little sleep in a little green under the trees in Lenham.
So this time I think some form of blend of the two is in order…
4 | Margate for Dawn – New Forest for Breakfast
Now this requires an early dawn otherwise making your way to the New Forest for breakfast just isn’t going work. Anytime between the end of April till the start of August should make this feasible if you are catching the sunrise in Margate / the east. That said there are a plenty of lovely locations in between where I am sure a decent breakfast can be found.
For those of you that are glutens for punishment I will include the previous route across to Margate…
Original Route to Margate – A little Tedious
The route can be viewed and downloaded here, though I would not recommend this route for most people. That is unless you want the challenge of crossing the centre of London as the crow flies, for me I did this in one sitting and was surprised how warm it was at midnight in London. It took me about 4 and half hours, I enjoyed the challenge and doing it but I wouldn’t call it traditional riding fun. It would be easier on a 125 for the most part.
A couple of photographs from the dawn last year… some of the best in my opinion are technically just before the dawn.
2021 Route
This new route we are going to speed up the section to catch the dawn just a little however we are going to extend the overall route to make it a round trip to High Wycombe.
Route Total
Distance: 368 miles
Time: 9 Hours 32 Minutes
I am this year planning to do this late May, as a good warm up ride for all the rides I have planned in June. If we take Saturday the 29th May, then Sunrise is 4:46AM, thus meaning I need to leave at just before 2:00 AM to make the sunrise.
High Wycombe to Margate
I have tried to find a best of both worlds medium with this route so that I keep moving and avoid getting bogged down in town centres to much and so that there are some really fun / scenic roads which can be a nice challenge in the dark. If you wanted to cut this down further take out the additional points at Sevenoaks, Tonbridge and Windsor and it should just be about 2 hours and less twisty.
Alternatively the motorway route for this is pretty much 2 hours dead, I would just add in the end kink of going down to Canterbury and then up to Margate. This was a breathtaking fast road that just has to be ridden.
Distance: 133miles
Time: 2:47 (Based on setting off on the 24/5 @ 2AM)
This leg has been extended a little by making the end destination Steff’s Kitchen in Beaulieu, it is fantastic spot for breakfast though I suggest you book as it is normally busy. Steff’s Kitchen Website
I think the time estimate for this one is a little cautious this route is almost the same as the original I did to the New Forest last year, it estimated just under 5 hours then. However in reality it to me just under 4 hours. There are definitely sections where your speed is regularly restricted however there is then wide open stretches with wonderful bends where you can really make progress. That said even with it estimating 5 hours that would still put you in time for a around 10:15-10-30 breakfast, allowing for a speedy fill somewhere near Margate.
04:46 | Dawn
04:40 – 05:00 | Breathtaking views and photo’s, a little drink of tea
This final leg is long time wise versus the mileage, if you are feeling it and want to smoothen this route out then you could take 45 minutes off the time and still have some fun. Broad strokes would be take the M275 -> M27 -> M3 -> A30 -> A33 -> A4 -> A404
For those that are in for the full version, the route takes you next to the motorways up until basingstoke. If you are running this early evening then Winchester is a beautiful and worth dinner stop. After Basingstoke it will twist you through some wonderful back roads upto reading, across the vibrant city core and then onto the A4. If you feel like this is too easy then dive of the A4 in Knowl Hill and take the single track lane back towards Henley, then take the main road to Marlow and up. Overall I have planned this for it to be interesting enough but familiar and not to tricky after a long day, if you have however taken more time then there are much crazier routes you can do back up to High Wycombe. One that involved a lot of single track lanes that I did last year took just shy of 4 hours and was a real laugh.
Whilst we have been in lockdown this project has been a bit stuck, before Christmas I dropped some fuel down to my dad in my 10L jerry can. Unfortunately to make the next bit of progress on getting it running properly I needed that jerry can, and with shipping difficulties and expenses and not being able to get another identical 10l jerry can for a reasonable price I figured I would just wait until I could travel to pick it up.
Note I am not normally attached to particular jerry cans but the design of this one is particularly good and the rest of the standard stuff on offer was off the classic leaky and loose the seal design. Or really expensive and metal which is overkill for my usecase.
However I now have the jerry can and my patience has paid off as whilst I was waiting I managed to get a deal on a full working pump assembly, managing to secure it for £30 on eBay. If you read the last update back at Christmas you will know that a full pump assembly from Yamaha is £270 and normally known working units seem to fetch £70-150. There was another option that I hadn’t come across before, it seems a seller in Europe is offering aftermarket regulators of varying pressures. These posted seem to come to about £30 however there is nothing in the manual or documentation I can find to confirm what the correct pressure should be for my model so I felt it was not worth the risk. It would have also added another un-necesarry variable to any further diagnostics if I have got anything wrong so far.
Whilst the project was stalled I decided to do what I normally tell other to avoid, that’s right I bought some shiny bolt on parts for it and put a little more into it. Despite it not running… Although they won’t massively improve the resale value later on they are nice touches to make it a more comfortable bike. Thus I have / am in the process of adding
The crashbars and screen arrived last week so I cracked on fitting them, the screen looks and fits alright though I would say it is a little big around the radius of the headlight curve.
The crashbars although relatively easy to fit did require a little modification to the bike, they pick up on two locations. The first and most structurally important is a bolt that runs through the frame and engine underneath the front edge. You remove it from the frame and engine slide the crash bars in and bolt it back in, really simple. The second pick up point is a done using a u-bolt that goes round the down tube at the front that comes down from the steering head to the base of the engine. The problem is that the location this lines up with is directly inline with the location of the horn and it’s mounting plate that is welded onto the down tube.
I managed to drop the u-clamp down a little and get it under the welded bracket on the down tube, however the horn itself then fowls. I got round this by removing the horn, pulling the cable connected to it released enough slake to enable me to move the horn. I drilled out the hole on the metal straight section that the horn is bolted to so that I could get it over the end of the u-bolt. This way as I tightened the nuts on the u-bolts I put the horn mount on before the nut, this places the horn down from the top of the crash bar. Luckily the cable just reaches. It was an easy fix and good enough for this type of bike. If it were a bigger bike or nicer bike I might consider making up a new different style of mounting bracket that picks up on the original lug on the frame.
It’s amazing how much this transforms the look for the bike, it just makes it look more stable and secure. The crash bars and hand guards (when fitted) will make a big difference if the bike is dropped, they along with the screen will also keep the cold off and allow the bike to be even more practical.
The handguards, chain oiler and pump assembly arrived this week so I intend to get them fitted over this weekend… finger crossed the bike then starts and keeps running, bar replacing the lock washer on the rear sprocket and doing an oil change the bike should be ready to get an MOT and ride just in time for summer.
LazyModernTraveler 