short nights, short runs

I've been getting out in the evening as the weather has been great this week and I'm off work. (Though I have a list of domestic chores which makes my day job seem like a lazy week-end!)
So, if it keeps up I should be able to ride every evening this week. It's all on familiar roads so I have the luxury of just being able to take it easy and enjoy being on the bike.
There are lots of other bikers, probably all with the same feelings, taking advantage of the good weather. I'm glad to see that bikers still acknowledge each other with the customary nod or wave. That bond is there, no matter what machine you're on. Sports bike, scooter, tourer and custom riders all feel part of a common brother and sisterhood.
S**t! Am I becoming sentimental or what? It's just good to be a biker.

These miles will certainly take me up to the time to get the bike through its first service. This one's free and the next one is not due for another 4,000 miles. If it wasn't for the warranty I'd be tempted to do it myself. I always used to do the servicing on all my own bikes. That way I was sure it was done on time though I often used to change things like oil and brake fluid when I was bored rather than when the bike needed it doing.
Just as well the joys outweigh the pitfalls when it comes to owning a new bike!

custom and (dodgy) practices

The Alba West Bike Show was held over the weekend just gone. It's an annual weekend bike show with the proceeds going to disabled bikers. It's run by the Alba West Association (Scotland) which may or may not be the Blue Angels. The show has a custom bike competition and if the standard of bikes has continued to improve since the last time I was at the show, it must have been fantastic.

I didn't get to it though, as the past few days had offered a plethora of rallies, ride-outs and camping week-ends as well as non-biking activities surrounding Armed Forces Day. I could have been camping in the Campsies, boogieing in Blackpool, drinking in Drymen or swinging the lamp with soldiers either in Glasgow or Edinburgh.

In the end domestic duties held my attention and so I had to forgo mixing with bikers and content myself with solo rides on Friday and Sunday evenings.

While on my way back on Friday I passed more than a few groups of riders heading out to the Drymen Show Ground where Alba West was held. One group stood out because their bikes looked that bit different from the shiny chrome of the Harleys and the plastic sky-rocket Japanese bikes. They were the type of bike I used to ride and love. Well used, road worn, not so shiny and definitely not stock.
Looking back in my mirror I could see why these guys stood out. They were all wearing back patches. Not the clean, tidy "gold-lamé" HOG back patch or the HD corporate logo sported by us week-end bikers. These were the aforementioned Blue Angels.

The Blue Angels are a biker gang. They have been around for years and I have crossed paths with them on quite a few occasions. None of my encounters have been particularly close and I can't count any of them amongst my friends. Though to be honest, on the other hand, none of the meetings have been in any way threatening apart from those feelings brought on by my own fears and prejudices.

I first saw the "Blues" when I was a schoolboy living in a small village and we were "invaded" one summer day in the late sixties by dozens of Blues on their bikes. Truthfully, they were there for an hour or so, went into the local café for a drink and rode up and down the main street a few times then left. A couple of them played an impromptu game with my football which I had left lying but offered to give it back as soon as they noticed me. Another village was not quite so peaceful when a publican tried to eject them from his premises but the word was that the news-paper reports of rioting and mayhem were ever so slightly exaggerated. It did go down in our school-days' mythology as the day the Angels tried to destroy our civilised world.

My next encounter was in my late teens when I was going through my "hippy" stage. I used to drink in a pub in Glasgow which had a real community spirit about it. Our "thing" was trying to revive the sixties "peace and love" and the pub became the southside of Glasgow's place to be. That was until the local gangs decided that they were going to battle to make it "their territory". Fighting became an almost nightly occurrence and the ensuing police presence threatened to upset our easy-going outlook, due in some measure, to a somewhat liberal attitude to drugs and alcohol laws.
It was following a raid by Glasgow's "finest" that a friend got talking to a, previously un-noticed, group of guys who regularly came in for a few pints but on the whole kept to themselves. It turned out they were Blue Angels who drank in that particular pub because it offered them a peaceful haven where they didn't have to defend reputations and the like. They offered to help sort out the bother the next time it happened and gave us a phone number to get in touch should anything kick off again.
A week later and, following a fight, a phone call was made. The next thing we knew shot-guns were being unloaded from the back of a car. By that time the police were already in the pub so the guns were quickly replaced and the occupants of the car (no-one could actually identify them as Blues) disappeared round the corner never to come back, to that pub at least. Gradually the pub returned to normal but it was never quite so exiting again!

Years later, when I had discovered the joys of riding bikes and had decided that I would not make a racer, got into custom bikes and rode a chopped Suzuki, I had my next meeting with the Blue Angels.
That one will have to wait for another post though..........

joining H-D?

I've decided to allow ads on this blog.
So, is this me just going down the same road as Harley-Davidson and all the other corporate money-makers? Have I sold my soul, or at least the soul of this blog, for a few bucks gleaned from the curiosity of readers who click on the ads, thus making me money? Or am I just taking a bit further, the advertising I already publish in my "sites to visit" in the side panel? Some (if not most) take you to commercial sites but which I don't get a penny for.
I would love to say that I'm doing it for altruistic reasons and I'm trying to provide a service to some of my readers.
But no! I'm really only doing it 'cos I hope to make some extra cash.
Running and customising a Harley is, after all, an expensive exercise!
Now I' ve just got to make it interesting enough to attract visitors.

dreams and rude awakenings

I sewed a HOG patch onto my waistcoat last night and shortly afterwards, while browsing, happened upon this article.
It's a report on one Harley rider's experience attending a large, organised rally, the H-D centenary bash in Barcelona a few years back.
Nothing has changed though, since then. HOG is still the corporation's route into the pockets of Harley owners. From custom parts, branded spares and clothing to Harley breakdown assistance, the company offers everything the biker, who doesn't have the time or inclination to do anything for himself, needs. The opportunity for some hassle-free riding is there for the buying.

Harleys are not cheap to buy and with the cost of recent second hand bikes, with all their added chrome and baubles, often overtaking the price of a new bike, the owner of the bike with just a few miles on the clock is much more common than the one who gets his or her hands dirty maintaining an older iron horse.

So, once I started reading, the article got me thinking a bit about the "biker lifestyle" and about just who is pulling whose wire!
A few weeks ago I met a Harley rider who didn't have much good to say about HOG. In fact he thought of them as no more than a bunch of "wannabees". When you read the following excerpt from the article his sentiments are precisely echoed there.

"But for me, Harley Davidson crossed the line into parody with the establishment of HOG, the Harley Owners Group, back in '83. Now don't get me wrong, I have no beef with any individual HOG members and have some good friends who wear HOG patches, but lets get one thing straight. HOG is not a club. It exists solely and purely to capture a target market and sell them more product."

It's all very true and I must confess that I'm as guilty as anyone of indulging in the "rebel" dream.
I used to be that DILLIGAF biker. The one whose "ride free" tattoo meant just what it (still) says. But, can I really still claim the lifestyle? Has the rebel in me been tamed and have I just bought into the corporate nightmare rather than the dream of freedom?

Yes, I do enjoy riding a style of bike which suggests, but not quite screams, rebellion and lawlessness. Yes ,I do love the thought that I'm part of a group which sits a couple of steps away from being on the fringes of what "polite" society finds acceptable. I dress in black leather with all its connotations of the outlaw's finger, raised at everyone not on a bike.
But, at the same time I retain the safety net of salary and nine to five drudgery. The wind in my hair is reserved for weekends and long sunny summer evenings.
It has been a few years since I last stripped down a bike in the garage and took bits into the house to work on the more fiddly components of a carburettor and even longer since I rebuilt a bike into something which was individual and unique to me.
My scoot is standard H-D straight out of the Milwaukee factory and just as Harley want it to be. I even look at buying patented spares and worry about the standard of aftermarket bits and pieces. A far cry from the days when my bikes were a mix of marques and even had the odd home made spare-part, stuck on with superglue and copper wire. Nowadays, I doubt if I'd have the courage to pull my bike apart without really knowing how it was going to go together again.

So, I'm maybe just the rebel without a clue after all!

funny, the things you notice

I rode down to meet up with the guys from CVH last night.
It was a wet(ish) evening and we were all inside the pub at first. But as soon as there was a break in the weather some of us made our way outside and stood chatting. The talk as usual was all about bikes and even when the rain came on again we still chatted away.
That's when I realised that I'd rather be one of those stood in the rain, having a good laugh and talking about interesting things than sat inside in the warm and dry but away from the thing that has allegedly brought us all there in the first place.
The Harleys!
Anyway, while I was discussing the merits and demerits of various custom additions and the plus points of my night train (what else), a mark on the badge on my tank caught my eye. On closer examination I realised it wasn't just any old mark. The background of the badge is made up of a black colour with lots of tiny little skulls on it.
Never noticed that before!

too busy to ride?

My life at work is still interfering with my enjoyment and not having won the lottery (yet) there's not a lot I can do about it.
So where has that rebel spirit, I once had when I first started riding, gone? Surely the middle-age crisis has not signalled the end of my free spirit! Growing old is inevitable but growing up is surely optional.

So why have I not been out more on my bike?

ride-out to Erskine

It was going to be my first organised ride-out.

I got myself ready and rode down to where I thought CVH were meeting to ride to Erskine Hospital for this fund raising event.
Trouble was I hadn't read the notice on the web-site properly and so I was at the wrong venue.
So, after hanging about there for a while after they were due to leave, I made my own way to the hospital. I really wanted to go as charities looking after vets are something I like to support.
I eventually found my way there, after crossing the Erskine bridge and back again. That was more just for the sheer fun of it rather than actually beiing lost. (my story and I'm sticking to it!)
Once I got there it was good to see all the bikes, especially the Harleys which were by far in the majority. I've since heard that there were 250 bikes there and £1500 was raised for the hospital.
On the way back I got caught up in another chapter's ride, by mistake, and rode with them for a few miles before they turned off and I went my own way.
To be honest I'm still not too sure if I entirely enjoyed the experience of riding in a group.
Maybe I'm too much of a loner!

Anyway, here's some pics.