SO LONG, MARIANNE (IHLEN)

As mentioned in The Guardian (and other media) Leonard Cohen's muse and lover, Marianne Ihlen has died of cancer, aged 81. Two of his most famous songs were inspired by her; So long, Marianne and Bird on the Wire.

So time passes and our youth with it.

RIP Marianne

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RIDING THE TRAILS II

In comments to my previous post, RR and I discussed the morality of taking internal combustion engined machines along ancient greenways and I concurred with his views. My Damascene conversion came about on a trip to the Ridgeway. For a change I  had bought a larger trail bike, a Suzuki SP370, which was more "interesting" on the boring 300 mile motorway round trip  down to Wiltshire.

The ancient chalk trackway had been churned up by convoys of 4x4 drivers who delight in finding the "juicy" spots, driving into them and then using their skills to extract themselves.

The result was some 35 miles of a wet, muddy, chalky track with huge areas of very deep puddles (ponds?)

As you can see from the image, I was keeping, with difficulty to the side of the main track. However, at one point the only way through was to negotiate a very deep and wide "water feature". I usually walked such obstacles first but it was not possible on the occasion so I rode through it. Of course the bike hit a submerged rut and I went over. My usual small trail bikes would have been no problem in such circumstances, but the heavier Suzuki was immensely difficult to extricate and push out. By the time I reached the other side I was in a muck sweat ,shaking with effort and needed a sit down!

I rode home at the end of that day, jet-washed the mud clogged Suzuki and advertised it for sale. I was ashamed of what modern vehicles were doing to this environment (with my participation). No more trail rides, but I had had a good innings for some 30 years.

RIDING THE TRAILS

I mentioned, in an earlier post, that I loved riding the greenways of Wiltshire/Berkshire and always had small, light trail bikes which were easy to pick up if I came off. Here is a little Honda XL125cc parked up on the Ridgeway, an 87 mile ancient road (3000 BC) across the Berkshire Downs

I always looked forward to the immense enjoyment of that old way as I rode the 150 miles down to it from Kent. (If one puts oneself in the right mind any motorcycle ride is enjoyable, whatever its size) One was alone with the vast panoramas, skyscapes and history. Sitting, eating a sandwich lunch all that could be heard was the song of skylarks as they ascended. The small bike did not make much noise as we pobbled along at about 15 - 20 miles an hour and I would always pull up and turn my engine off if encountering horse riders.

I count myself fortunate to have been able to ride it for 30 years because it has been illegal for about 10 years to take a motor vehicle along this famous trackway. This came about because, as usual, modern enthusiasms spoilt things for the individual solitary. Gangs of 4x4 vehicle drivers, some even over from the Continent would career along the road, churn it up (it gets extremely muddy in the winter) and spoil its peace and quiet. It is now only available to walkers and cyclists and that is a good thing, but regretful to us who sought to quietly integrate - to make love to it rather than rape it.

Pohangina Pete and Vita have both commented on my earlier posts about the monstrous motorcycles used by so-called "adventure bikers" like Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boorman. I think that the following rider absolutely knocks them into a cocked hat. He rides a Royal Enfield Bullet, similar to the one I have just sold. But he rides alone, does all his own filming and camps "wild" in the Himalayas. Here is a short trailer for the film he made. The full film runs for 95 minutes and is available on DVD or can be downloaded. It has won many awards and is well worth having, Even if you are not interested in motorcycles per se it is a record of an individual's effort, discovery of forgotten, threatened nomads and Tibetan customs.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SldSSPxWMfk

"BYE-BYE LOVE.."

To remember a song which was current when I was in the Army in the late '50s...

The Royal Enfield Bullet has been sold for £2,150 (hurrah for Ebay). Bought by a mature enthusiast who was treating himself to a 60th birthday pressie. He had twice toured around India on such, which are available to hire all over the place out there and wanted one of his own. His wife brought him down from Essex and he rode it back home. Here is the image of him leaving my address on it - not the happiest moment in my motorcycle life!

So now it is back to trolling around on a little 125cc Honda although this has appreciativly more performance than the little BSA Bantam 150cc which was my very first bike in 1958.

It will not come of too much of a culture shock though. Over the years I have owned a number of Honda trail bikes which were only 125cc and had immense fun with them. I am very much attracted to the Berkshire/Wiltshire downlands and Salisbury Plain with their ancient trackways and often made the 300 mile round trip in a day to explore them on these little bikes. I have always used trail bikes that were light enough to pick up if I came off, or to push out of deep mud - which was a not infrequent occurance!

I think this may be the subject of a later posting.......

DAVE SWARBRICK

Well, one of the finest folk fiddlers ever has finally justified his very premature obituary that was published in newspapers here some years ago. For a long time after "Swarb" would personally autograph photocopies of his "obit for £1 a time.

Now he has really died, age 75 and I wonder if we will ever see his like again.

Here, very much younger, he is playing "The Hens' March" accompanied by Simon Nichol on guitar.

Rest in Peace, "Swarb". We folk aficionados are going to miss your playing and quirky humour.

A MOTORCYCLING LIFE

It is 1958 and a young man sits nonchalantly on his first motorcycle. A 1956 BSA Bantam 150cc, I bought after a bad and financially costly experience with an ancient 1934 Ford 8 when learners were allowed to drive unaccompanied due to the Suez Crisis. My mother had said, "Don't buy a motorcycle, get a little car, they're safer". But it was hell on a National Service squaddie's  meagre pocket.

At this time I was doing army service and went to the local dealers with a knowledgeable mate to choose. I bought it and the next week went with the same mate to get it. We rode back to barracks through Canterbury with him on the back shouting instructions. I had never ridden before, but youth has confidence. Training and crash helmets were not yet compulsory, so hearing was easy.

It was such a pleasant revelation that I rode it 30 miles to Maidstone that very evening to see my girlfriend. A lifetime's love and devotion were formed (with motorcycles and Margaret, the said girlfriend, who would become my wife for over 63 years and until she died recently). Here she sits astride the little bike:

she too was to get the bug and loved being on the back, subsequently owning her own machines for a number of years until rheumatoid arthritis put paid to it.

Mike and Margaret on way home to Kent from watching the Banbury Run.

Came marriage and eventually children started to arrive. With two, we invested in a sporty looking sidecar combination

Really it gave the impression of a bishop arm in arm with a tart (thank you Roy K Battson) as the bike was a rather staid BSA 600cc sidevalve attached to the sports Garrard Grand Prix child/adult chair. Nevertheless our first holiday was spent touring Devon and Cornwall, wife with very young son on her lap in front and 4 year old daughter in the back secured to the sides of the chair with baby reins. Here we are crossing Exmoor on a "moist" day.(Note the pushchair, carried for said son)

As the family increased with another son, so we went up the combination chain until the chairs began to look like small buses.

Ariel Square Four with Canterbury Carmobile three seater sidecar.

BSA M21 sidevalve 600 with Busmar Astral double adult chair.

Another Squariel with later Canterbury Carmobile - I preferred the earlier version.

Eventually the kids became interested in rides on the pillion of my 200cc LE Velocette but the boys never really took to it

Only my daughter, taking after her mother and loving it so much that she eventually trained and rode on her own moped. 

She now rides a Royal Enfield Bullet 500 in Western Australia!

We got a car, but I always had a motorcycle in the garage. My love for big single Royal Enfield Bullets started about now in 1965

Then, in the '70s I deserted to East European two-strokes, the Jawa 350 twin and MZ 250 being  favourites

Numerous SJF s (standard Japanese fours) followed, particularly the gorgeous Honda 400F which was my first Jap bike and a sweet revelation. 

However in the '80s I began an enthusiasm for BMW flat twins. My second, a 1000c model R100 I kept for over 27 years, only reluctantly selling it  in 2012 as arthritis began to make moving it around painful

So it was back to a first love Royal Enfield Bullets, only now made in India, but having an updated fuel injected engine

I had hoped that this would see me through to my dotage, but a couple of strokes left me with reduced use of my left arm and leg. Motorcycling was impossible for a few months, but as soon as possible I managed to get back on two wheels with a "twist and go" Honda 125cc scooter which has no left hand clutch or left foot gear change to operate

I might hang on to this as it is so useful and easy to ride (and who knows what the future will hold), but it is not the same as motor cycling. On a scooter one sits primly upright, knees together, rather like a spinster at a vicarage tea party. My view of motorcycling is described by this https://little-corner-of-the-earth.blogspot.com/2006/10/wiltshire-ride.html

But even the Enfield became too heavy for me to push around when off it, particularly backwards due to poor balance (only off the bike thankfully) and lack of muscle tone, so I invested in a "tiddler" - only 114 kgs. A Honda CG125, owned by a mature rider who sold it to another one (me)

As my health regained a bit I managed to go up the scale a little to classic 250cc Jap bikes, the last being a rather nice Suzuki TU250X

But eventually I was led to the AJS Tempest Roadster. A lightweight 125cc with low seat height and electric foot (essential) Yes, it is basically a Chinese made bike but specially finished for the English AJS concern, looks super in black and gold and nostalgically reminds me of the 500cc Ajay single I had in the early 1960s.

I started my motorcycle life on a 150cc machine and I end it on a 125cc one! Over that time I have owned 60 bikes. During those 65 years I tried to put back into what has become a wonderful hobby. I was for many years the chief instructor of an RAC/ACU training centre, County co-ordinator of 14 training schemes and helped to set up the first Advanced Motorcyclist Training scheme which was subsequently affiliated to the Institute of Advanced Motorists (the first motorcycle group to do so) and been taken up nation-wide.

An old motorcyclist, John Masterman once said,

"Cut your miles a day down from 300 to 200, and 200 to 100 or even less.

 Ride and rest - and ride again. Never give it up. Never say die.

 Never part from an interest and love that is life itself."

I may have posted this link before , but make no apologies - worth a view.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZ15mbuE_pw





THE BILSINGTON MONUMENT

In an earlier post I compared cycling through the lanes over Romney Marsh to being at sea in a small boat with the distant escarpment being my landfall.


If one pursues that analogy then the Bilsington Monument would qualify as a "seamark". Standing 52 feet (16m) proud on that escarpment it is visible from wherever you are on the Marsh and I think its story is worth the telling.

It was erected in 1835 in memory of Sir William Cosway, one-time secretary to Vice Admiral Lord Collingwood and highly respected in Bilsington as its excellent squire and main landlord. Being very interested in the Reform Bill, he was much concerned about the plight of local farm labourers, giving financial support to them and built the village school for the benefit of their children.


In 1834 at the age of 51 he fell from his coach in London and died soon after. The Reformers of East Kent, with the support of the people of Bilsington had the monument erected in his memory.


It has had a chequered history, being struck by lightning in 1967 and half destroyed. But a trust was formed and, with Heritage Lottery funding, it was repaired in 1999, ready for the Millenium.


As one gets nearer to the escarpment it accompanies you on the skyline

After leaving the Marsh, a ride up the steep lane beside it (easy by ebike!) and crossing the local cricket field one is able to approach it

and sit in the sun beneath it on the bench provided, drinking coffee (in my case) and admiring the panorama over all of Romney Marsh.

ARIEL SQUARE FOUR PINION PULLER

Well, my daughter and Vita had asked about this piece of kit, which has been gracing my garages since about 1962. At that time I was the proud owner of an Ariel Square Four motorcycle with a large family sidecar. Indeed, I owned two in quick succession.

As usual, I enjoyed "fettling" and had occasion to delve into the engine. The reason it was known as a "Square Four" was because of the unique and clever cylinder layout, which enabled four cylinders to be inserted compactly into the frame.

These cylinders were connected by a couple of interlocking pinions and I needed to get these off.

You can see the pinions at "A" and "C" in the drawing above. I used the aforementioned tool to successfully remove these. When the engine was reassembled I put the puller carefully away "for next time" and never used it again. It is till awaiting reuse after over 60 years! Incidentally, over the years, as I have lifted cylinder heads off motorcycles, I have always preserved the old gaskets as memories - I found the old Square Four ones.

I loved those Square Fours. At that time (apart from the too expensive Vincents) they were the only 1000cc motorcycles and were ideal for dragging a large family "chair". They managed, easily, a wife and 3 small children and were only eventually replaced by a Morris Traveller car for family comfort.


My daughter remembered my affection for them and once, as a "thank you" present she bought me a painting of one, which still graces the bedroom wall.

GOOD FRIDAY RUN

I had spent the morning "de-winterising" a motorcycle (cleaning off the protective spray applied in November and generally tarting up prior to selling). The sun was warm on my back and the day delightfully calm and spring-like.


After a light lunch the ebike and the lanes called. The usual alcohol infused coffee flask was prepared, along with a couple of cheese scones. (The inner man needs to be refuelled at the halfway stage, even though the bike has electrical assistance).


My aim, as is often the case, was Romney Marsh, but I decided to take a different route today, following Robert Frost's musings:

"Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same, "

I had not seen my most coveted house for a long while and wanted to check how it was getting on

Still there, it seems, still surrounded at the rear by absolutely delightful gardens, green, close-mown lawns, a stream and daffodils in abundance. I would love to see inside it as the rooms seem to be all on different levels and I can imagine the musty smell of ancient, cured oak of which it is built. I could never afford it and I guess my modern, estate house with all its mod cons is more comfortable, warm and draught free but my illusion continues, unpricked.

Then it was a descent to Romney Marsh. An artist's paradise with its vast skyscapes

When cycling through these winding, deserted lanes (even on a Bank Holiday, they are traffic free and undiscovered - long may that continue) I have the feeling of being at sea in a small sailing boat, the distant escarpment being my eventual landfall.

The coffee and scones were enjoyed on a bench in a windless little Marsh churchyard, the sun being so hot that I needed to take off my cycling jacket and the underlying sweater. A glorious afternoon, well stolen as the rest of the subsequent Easter weekend dissolved into torrential rain and gale force winds.



"A HALF-HOUR JOB"

I had occasion to fit a side stand on a small motorcycle I have recently purchased (of which more in a later blog post). There is a lug built in to take one, but our dreaded European "Health and Safety" rules, to which we have to comply, has meant that motor cycle manufacturers can only fit such now if they include an electronic cut off switch to immobilise the engine unless it is retracted. (It seems that some forgetful wights forgot and rode off with the stands down - they soon remembered when leaning over to take a left hand bend!). This particular model had dispensed with them since the  European diktat was promulgated in about 2000.

Such stands are still available via Ebay as  most more enlightened countries outside the European "state" still allow them to be fitted. So I obtained one and looked forward to a pleasant half an hour fitting it. (Motorcyclists love "tinkering").

It came complete with fixing bolt and retracting spring. The actual stand fitted quickly and easily in about 5 minutes to the lug provided. However, the retracting spring is, of necessity, very powerful and when offered up it was approximately one cm. short of its locating stud.

Its end was totally inaccessible and the spring too strong to be able to stretch it, but a known dodge by anyone purporting to have some engineering knowledge is to extend the spring by fitting spacers into the coils. This can be effected by putting the spring in a vice and bending it to left and right to open the coils. Coins are useful spacers. The trouble is that as one bends the coils one way the tension on the previous spacers is released and they drop out. Calm thought was called for and insulation tape came to the rescue.

As each set of spacers was fitted a winding of tape kept them in place and the end result was a spring sufficiently extended

There was a problem however, on coming to fit it I found the space too congested to loop the end over the stud because the width of the spacers was impinging on the stand

It pays to keep calm in such circumstances. The only solution was to remove all the coins and cut them in half (sorry your majesty!)

Result!

Once the stand was put into the "down" position the spacers could easily be removed with a pair of thin nosed pliers as the spring extended.

and what I thought would be a half-hour job took the whole of Saturday morning. But I did, in a strange way, enjoy working out the problem. (It's not just riding motorcycles that gives pleasure - fettling increases it).

My wife gets her pleasure from solving crosswords - mine is of a more practical nature.

GROUNDWORK (or owner trained by dog)

It is nearly 20 years since I had a female dog and had forgotten how bitches can ruin a lawn. It does not apply to the male of the species. Dog urine contains large concentrations of nitrates. In small doses these are, in fact, very good for the grass, but, as the Delphic inscription had it, "medan agan" (nothing in excess). A male dog tends to cock a leg and spray, thus dispersing the result. But a bitch likes to squat in one place and puts everything in a few square inches. Result, as can be seen below, large, dead yellow patches on the grass. (I hope you are not eating whilst reading this)

For my previous dogs I had a area of paving slabs where they could amble around. This was easy to keep clean and tidy. The current fastidious little lady does not like squatting on cold concrete and refuses to pee on same. As soon as she was let loose on the lawn she would perform (it may be that she enjoyed the sensation of grass tickling her fanny). This I needed to address.

Physical work which I used to do in about two days I now need about two weeks to complete. I have found since the stroke that I can work for about an hour, then need a sit down with a cup of coffee and a book for half an hour or so. This is rather pleasant in fact and lends grace and elegance to the day . Why did I never do this before - the work ethic dominated, now I have an excuse!

So, over the course of the last two weeks I have lifted ten 60cm square concrete slabs.

The compressed soil  beneath them (Kentish clay of the consistency of cheese) then needed to be dug over (the hardest part of the project). Then a drive to the local garden centre for three large bags of topsoil to mix with and "dilute" the clay.

I rang the local turf supplier and said I needed some. "We deliver free on orders over £50", he said, "how much do you want?" I only needed 6 rolls for the job so I collected them myself  (went into the back of the "Popemobile" very nicely, thank you).

Then a visit to a builders outlet for a quantity of 180 cm. lengths of timber (again the Popemobile swallowed the lot, no probs.).

The result is a fenced area half slabs and half grass. Little madam is confined therein and is happy to perform on her personal bit of lawn. Usually I am able to follow her with a watering can to dilute her deposit.

So, job done. But it does occur to me, just who is training whom?

SURFACING

At last the three months of winter draw to a close and I begin to emerge from SAD hibernation. It has been a particularly doleful winter this time, almost ceaseless rain, with dreary "nothing" grey days. But the sun's red orb now sits exactly on the far house rooflines when I rise in the mornings (07.00) and the frost sparkles everywhere. Muddy paths on the dog walk have solidified to ice and many more birds are in evidence.

At least the warmer winter has meant that primroses are now blooming early and even the first spikes of unfurled bluebells are evident. Unusual, but welcome.

It may be just a little early, but March is the first month of the spring cycle, so I now change my blog head image accordingly.