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More Miscellaneous Anecdotes and Recollections
Suzuki LS400: Three on the Toy Run 2002My wife, Juliet was pregnant with our first child but we did not let that stop us going on bike rides. For quite some time a common sensation on bike rides was our unborn child kicking me in the back.
The time of the Toy Run came around and we rode from our house (near Tauwhare at the time) to Cambridge to participate. We parked up in the increasing crowd of bikes and had a leisurely wander around looking at the various bikes and trikes.
One of the women selling the badges approached and asked if we'd be interested in buying a badge. I informed her I was interested in buying three - one for me, one for my wife and one for our unborn child. The woman smiled and presented three badges and I paid the thirty dollars.
Departure time duly came around and we set off amid the crowd of other bikes, rolling through Cambridge at the legal limit then increasing to 80km/h at the 100km/h sign.
All the way along the road to Hamilton I felt our unborn child kicking me in the back as if to say "come on, go faster daddy, what's with this 80km/h nonsense?"
We arrived in Hamilton and made our way to the finishing point at the Claudelands Showgrounds where we threw our soft toys into the truck, had some refreshments and waited around for the prize draw.
After the event we wandered off to visit a friend who took a picture of us with the bike.
After a couple of coffees and a chat we headed home.
Suzuki LS400: Three on the Toy Run 2003
My wife was pregnant with our second child and, as our first child was not yet one year old, there were few opportunities for us to go riding together. The difficulty in finding a reliable baby sitter willing to travel out to Tauwhare meant that we seldom went riding together.
For the Toy Run, however, we took exceptional pains to book Juliet's mum to look after Taliesin so we could attend together.
The weather looked awful before we set off - heavy black clouds loomed ominously - so we suited up against rain - me in my DriRider gear, Juliet in PVC rain wear and warm clothes.
We rode to Cambridge, checked out the bikes, bought our badges - one each plus one for our new baby - and waited around for the start of the ride.
The weather started looking better and by the time we set off from Cambridge the clouds had bled away to be replaced by bright sunlight.
Our new child was nowhere near as active as Taliesin who had kicked me almost continuously between Cambridge and Hamilton - I felt no movement at all against my back on the journey.
By the time we arrived in Hamilton we were already quite hot from a relatively slow ride in the hot sun and then everything went sour - there was a foul-up in the route we were supposed to take (normally well marked with Police and Ulysses Club members directing us through the intersections and blocking other traffic).
It turned into a shambles with bikes taking various routes through the city, mingling with the usual Hamilton traffic. We were reduced to a crawl and stuck at intersections - fully kitted up in the sweltering sun with no cooling air-flow around us.
We got to Bryce Street, my plan being to turn onto Victoria St and take the Claudelands Bridge to the showgrounds, and Juliet frantically tapped my shoulder and signalled me to stop.
I pulled over and Juliet half-fell off the back of the bike and started shedding her jacket. She was so overcome by the heat she had nearly fallen off the bike while we were riding.
I also opened up my jacket and took time to clear my throbbing head then we mounted the bike and completed the last short leg of the trip to the showgrounds.
Normally, when we arrive at the showgrounds, my first priority is a cigarette. Not this time, however. We barged our way frantically through the crowd to find the refreshments stand and bought a cold drink each which we guzzled down, both of us seriously dehydrated and over-heated.
The trip was an object lesson in how the changeable Waikato weather can adversely affect a ride. We had gone from being sure we'd be rained on to being seriously affected by heat stroke and dehydration.
We rode home by the quickest possible route with our jackets open.
Yamaha XT225: The Kiwi Bloke's Guide to Flat Tyres.
The story as I reported it to the XT225 Forum:
Ah, yeah, g'day.
Saturday night I'm stooging along the road out of town - down the hill, up into the 80km/h zone - with me mate on the back. It's a hot, humid Waikato summer night so me jacket's open (I'm wearing hard armour underneath so "no worries", eh.)
When I hit 80, the jacket's flapping like a mad thing so I throw out a few anchors and grind to a bit of a halt just long enough to zip up me jacket.
We take off again and I haven't even hit 80 when I notice the arse end's waggling a bit. Now, I know me mate's a good pillion so that can't be the problem. I signal, slow and pull over carefully.
We get off the bike and I have a quick squizz at the back tyre. Bugger me, it's as flat as a fart and hot as Hell to touch.
So we have a ciggy then turn the bike around and I start pushing it back the way we came. It's a bugger to push so I fire up the engine and click it into first. With the engine idling it's not going too fast for me to keep pace and it certainly makes going back up the other side of the dip a lot easier.
We get it to the service station and pump up the tyre in the hope that it's only a slow leak. It promptly deflates with a sound like the valve is out and goes from 28psi to zero in under sixty seconds.
Bugger!
There's nothing for it but to ride slowly back home with a flat tyre, dropping me mate off (and having a ciggy while the tyre cools down) along the way. A couple of nasty moments when the back tyre wallowed in a corner but nothing serious - just kept riding slowly and thinking light thoughts so as not to put too much weight on the tyre.
The next day being Sunday, the bike shops are all shut and I'm broke, anyway.
Monday I walk to work and phone up the bike shop for an idea of how much it'll cost to repair as I don't have the tools to do it meself.
Monday night I figure I can at least save meself some labour costs if I get the back wheel off but I've got no centre stand, no paddock stand and no tools.
I ring a couple of mates but they're busy so I watch a movie with me wife while I mull things over.
Around 11 at night I figure I could probably find something in the garage that'll do to hold the back of the bike up so I go and have a poke around. I notice the rear wheel of the old TT225 me mate (and fellow Kiwi Biker) Motu gave me - he gave me almost an entire TT225 in bits - and it occurs to me that if I put that wheel on the XT I'd be able to get the bike running enough to get to work and drop off the XT's wheel to be fixed. I have a closer look at the wheel - it's got a full knobby tyre on it and a couple of spokes are missing but it's better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick and it should do until I get me tyre repaired.
So I've got a plan. No paddock stand or tools, but I've got a plan. Still, never say die 'til a dead horse kicks ya, right?
I drag the wheel out of the garage and phone around the local service stations looking for a 22mm spanner, socket or even a decent-sized crescent. No luck.
It's now around 11:30, I've got the bike propped up on top of a couple of old computers I had out in the garage. Me mate, Roj, had said I'd never find any use for them and I should throw them out, but they make an OK paddock stand. Not perfect, but better than a kick in the pants. She'll be right, eh.
In desperation I decide to look in my grandfather's old tool kit. I don't hold out much hope as any spanners he had are most likely to be Imperial sizes. I dig around in the junk and unearth the tool box. Bugger me, there's all me old spanners that I used when working on the Zundapp - and a couple of plug spanners and me tyre pressure gauge. None of them any use for taking off a wheel, though.
I fossick 'round in me granddad's old tools and find some largish ancient spanners and a 10" crescent. The spanners are etched with rust so I can't make out what size they are but I lug them out to the bike.
Stone the crows! The first spanner I try fits the 22mm nut perfectly. So I whip off the rear wheel using the 22mm spanner and the crescent and start installing the TT225 wheel. The brakes and axle from the XT fit perfectly with the TT wheel and it goes together with no worries. I need a bloody magnifying glass and torch to read the numbers on the snail cams when adjusting the tension of the chain but no worries.
By the time I put the tools and the "paddock stand" away it's bloody-near one in the morning. I take a short ride up the road to the servo to pump up the tyres and check the bike's handling OK. Sweet as!
Tuesday morning I attach the XT wheel with its flat tyre to the back of the bike. I've got no tail rack so it's sitting half on the seat, half on the fender and bungee'd to the grab handles. I've got a knobby tyre - certainly not DOT - and a few missing spokes but she'll be right - just got to take it easy, not go hooning around the corners.
I ride out to Te Rapa Straight and drop the XT's wheel off at Boyd Honda then carefully ride to work.
And that, cobbers, is how a Kiwi bloke fixes a flat tyre without a paddock stand.
Now that I know where the tools are, I'll at least be able to swap the wheels over before nightfall tonight.
Anyway, many thanks go out to me mate, Motu, for giving me that pile of TT225 parts and to my grandfather for having had the right tools in his kit.
The epilogue to this Kiwi tale is that my wife picked up the wheel so it was waiting for me when I got home from work. I dug out the tools and computers and swapped the wheels in less than half an hour despite a short delay due to me knocking the bike off its paddock stand stack of computers - it certainly makes a big difference working by daylight.