I've ridden into and out of London a few times while marshalling for the KillSpills rallies, but then it's been with Debz, a couple of thousand other bikers and a Police escort. This time I did it on my own for the first time, a very different experience!
Yesterday afternoon I rode the Falco up into the smoke to drop it off at Southern Cross M/C in Kilburn for a major service (they are HIGHLY recommended for working on Aprilias!). I don't know London at all well as I only ever go up on the train and tend to stick to the tubes once there, so I don't really know where anything is in relation to anything else.
I chose a simple route: M3, A316, A4, left at Hyde Park Corner, A5, right at Kilburn station and surprisingly I found it first time, but the traffic!!! This was London in the late afternoon, riding in Italy was a doddle compared to this, and the only thing that's come close for me is Lisbon in the dark in rush-hour. If there’s a gap anywhere in the traffic something will try to get in it, be it a pedestrian, cyclist, moped, car or bus. If you pull out to look round something, you won’t get back into that space again, you’ll be stuck out in the middle of the road until you find somewhere else to go. Mental!
That was only half of it though; the courtesy bike I was presented with was an Aprilia Atlantic, a 500cc twist and go thing. So to get home I had to do London in rush hour with even more traffic and do it on something that felt completely alien and very, very different from riding a proper bike.
It wasn’t in the best condition either, it had been dropped a few times, bits were missing including the left mirror and it felt like the whole thing was ready to give up and expire. The brakes were terrible and the handling was worse. If an old armchair, a petrol mower and a wheelbarrow had at some point got very drunk and indulged in a night of kinky three-way sex, this would have been the unfortunate offspring.
Eventually I almost got used to riding it and nearly had it under my control. Slowing down was weird, my left foot kept feeling round for the gear lever and I had to fight the urge to pull the left bar lever right in as it would jam on the rear brake. I even did a bit of wobbly filtering when no one else on a bike was looking. I was still in my leathers, so looked enough of a tit on it anyway without looking like I couldn’t ride as well.
Eventually I got out of London and onto the M40 as an ‘easy’ route out from where the shop was. I was looking forward to leaving the chaos behind and having a relaxing ride up the motorway to High Wycombe, then a short run down the A404 to Maidenhead to meet Debz out of work for a fun ride home. Except that everyone else in London that day seemed to have the same idea, the traffic didn’t really clear until we got onto the A4 west of Reading.
These things weren’t designed for motorway work, the slightest bit of turbulence from the car ahead would have it writhing and wobbling and swaying from side to side, the screen created a big pocket of low pressure air behind it that kept sucking me forward, feeling like someone was constantly pushing my back and head down and what power there was came in very slowly compared to what I’m used to so overtakes needed a long run-up with the throttle wide open.
If the brakes were poor in town, on the motorway they were abysmally crap. An average car will out-brake it with ease as I found out going up the M3 again the next afternoon. Under full braking the thing is close to uncontrollable, twisting and fish-tailing with the rear trying to overtake the front as I was trying to aim it between the two rapidly approaching cars ahead, not a pleasant experience at all. They didn’t stop however and pulled away again, so panic over and lesson learned I doubled my stopping gap and carried on, still getting thrown around and pummeled by the turbulence from the cars in front and the screen. At some point it managed to suck the top box lid open, luckily there was nothing in it.
The traffic wasn’t too bad on the way there, on some of the M3’s private sections (officer) it was quiet enough to attempt some performance investigations and after a very, very, very long run up the needle finally managed to indicate a heady 101mph before the wind changed and slowed me down again.
And so into London again. This time with a detour around Hammersmith featuring a very long shortcut, some road works and a lot of traffic lights. Once back at the shop I was very pleased to get shot of the Flying Beetroot and get back onto my freshly serviced Falco, not an ideal bike for riding through London on, but at least it does what I want when I want and looks good reflected in the shop windows. It was so good to be back on it I didn’t even mind getting lost on the way out and was happy to rattle the windows and set the car alarms off in Notting Hill, Ladbrook Grove and Wormwood Scrubs as I tried to find a way up onto the A40.
Anything good to say about the Atlantic? It’s very easy to get it onto the centre stand and it did do Kilburn, High Wycombe, Maidenhead, Newbury, Andover and back to Kilburn on £9.48 worth of Petrol, other than that, no, it was totally crap.
, and arranged to take the train in to Liverpool St. to collect it from Finsbury Circus.(he commuted the M4 daily from Trowbridge or somewhere) 
