Losing my faith

Six massive months have passed since my last blog post. I really have no idea what's going on with me. I am busy but I can't really excuse being busy for six months. It's not that I never really have the time, it's that I haven't really made the time. I'm not quite sure what's going on.

Around the time of my last blog post I was really pushing my journalism career. I attended several 'GoThinkBig' open days (which I highly recommend) and ending up walking around the Motorcycle News office! I really interacted with the writers there, asking loads of questions and expressing my views on things (which is very unlike me). This led to an opportunity to meet Rupert Paul, a highly respected motorbike journalist. With a bit more forward talking, I explained to him just how much I wanted to become a motorbike journo and I think he really understood that I wasn't kidding about wanting to be a journalist.

Which led to a job opportunity. Very kindly, Rupert offered me the chance to gain some experience in professional writing - I was (and still am) in shock. I received my first freelance job; interviewing James Toseland and Neil Hodgson about the forthcoming MotoGP races - I still can't believe it!

The best part was rushing home with MCN sport under my arm, dying to flick through and find my name in the little black writing. I shown it off to all of my work colleagues with pride and my supervisor even photocopied it and hung it up on the wall! Not long after I was offered ANOTHER interview and this time it was with current British MotoGP racer, Bradley Smith! I was in my element, planning the rest of my future and thinking of all the amazing things I will do when I become a journalist.

I was on top of the world...

So what on earth happened?

Lately, things seemed to have gone down the pan. I've moved house since then which has made it so much harder to use my motorbike. I had a choice of leaving the Fz6 outside in the icy weather or to keep it at my parent's house in a nice garage, protected from rust and corrosion.

I chose to keep it at my parent's house but it's just really rare that I actually ride my bike anymore. I think not riding motorbikes has had a knock on effect with my journalism and my blog posts too (not to mention YouTube videos).

It's not that I've lost interest in motorbikes or journalism. I just think that I've lost that little bit of inspiration, in these dark winter days.

I went out on my bike two days ago for the first time in about two months! I was greeted by freezing temperatures, buckets of rain and a shortage of bacon at my local bike stop. Despite these things, I still had a whole lot of fun. I've also began planning a few road trips for this year (which I won't mention, in fear of being cancelled) and have started looking at new bikes to use on these trips.

It's time to be getting myself back on the road and back on the keyboard.

Riding Solo

It's a bit lonely really, riding solo.

Don't get me wrong, motorcycling can be amazing regardless of the amount of people with you. But sometimes riding alone a lot can restrict the amount of fun you have, or for me at least anyway. For the past year or so, I have began to ride my bike alone much more frequently.

Personal commitments and full time jobs have now plagued our summer days, as the whole of S.L.A.P starts to... well, grow up. We can no longer be the sixteen year old's that scive college and go out for a blast on the bikes, coming back just in time for a few beers around a roaring fire. We've entered the real world.

The past few months have been particularly agonizing for me. Donnell crashed his Mt-03 back in June, causing him to be off the road. Alex has been hitchhiking around Europe. Jamie and Andy are both busy at their full time jobs, too exhausted to do much when they get home. I too, work full time and have moved out. This makes motorbike time very minimal.

The Mt03 crash aftermath

There isn't time to do anything anymore. I feel like time is just flying by and I'm stood still watching it pass. I occasionally go for a 20 minute blast to the local cafe and back but that's about it. What happened to the 'spur of the moment' day trips to Wales?

I find myself reminiscing about a time where I would be crouched over my tank, elbows tucked in, peering into my mirror to see if my mate was about to be overtake me. I remember the bursts of adrenaline when I would throw my little 125 into a sun soaked bend, just trying to creep an inch closer to Donnell's Rs. I miss the laughs you'd have when you pull over to take a few photos, the pissing around at traffic lights when there was nothing else to do.

Riding alone just isn't the same.

As amazing as my France trip was, on the journey home I felt like a piece was missing. In 500 of the 700 miles I did on my own that day, I had taken in so many memories and experiences but it felt like I had no one to experience these things with. I didn't have someone pulling up next to me, laughing about what had just happened.

A great trip but lonely at times

Although, riding alone isn't all that bad. Being alone can force you to go out there and speak to new people, it can get rid of the 'sticking with what you know' philosophy. For example, if you're in the middle of Italy with a group of people, you'll naturally stick together and stay quite reclusive. However, if you're on your own you are being forced to go out and meet people otherwise you'd have nobody to talk to.

Perhaps I'm just whinging, lots of people ride on their own all the time and they're fine. So I guess it's something I'll have to get used to and accept...

... but that long ribbon of tarmac can feel a bit lonely when it's just you on it.

The best £300 I've ever spent

Back in April my neighbour sent his 535 Virago skidding down the road, denting the tank and smashing multiple parts up. He was absolutely devastated but was back on auto trader looking at another Virago. Over a cup of tea, he recollected his accident and shown me the bike. I had a quick look over it as he told me that he was planning to scrap it. Horrified, I told him that I'd take it off his hands for more than scrap value and repair it.

The Virago

A few days later I wheeled the bike across the road and into my garage, £200 down. Chuffed with my little battered bargain, I began to strip the bike down, preparing for a paint job. It proved tricky to take apart with so many bolts rusted through, random wires poking out of every dirty corner and a confusing switch that did nothing on the right side panel.

Cleaning and polishing became a new past time. I bandaged up the exhausts and replaced damaged parts with the wonder that is eBay, costing me a relatively low £25. With funds running low, I decided against spraying it so I built it back together.

Stripped down

After receiving my next payslip, I trooped down the local garage and booked the old Virago in for an MOT. I plugged it into a battery charger and left it untouched for two days.

On the day of the MOT I wheeled it out of the garage and hit the switch. Nothing. Tried again. Nothing. With only 10 minutes left before the test, my time was ticking. Over two hours later, I got it running after a tough bump starting session and quickly rode it down to the test centre before it shut up. After receiving much deserved piss-taking and banter, I left the bike with him.

The next day, I received a phone call from the bloke, telling me that the bike's battery is knackered. Flustered, I rushed to get a battery from a local scooter shop, then fitted it to the Virago. £33. The bike squeezed through the MOT and I left the industrial estate, beaming.

However, after just 2.8 miles, the smile was soon wiped from my face. The Virago started to splutter and die, making strange noises as though it was only running on one cylinder. I pulled over in Sainsbury's car park and started to fiddle with it. One minute the electrics were on, the next they weren't. After half an hour of tampering, pissed off, I resorted to calling the RAC.

A whopping 4 hours later, the big orange van turned up. A bloke jumped out of the van and checked the connections, discovering degraded wires and fuses. He replaced the fuses and gave me some advice on repairing the perished electrics, and then I was finally able to ride the damn thing!

And I've got to say... It's a hell of a lot of fun.

I might have had the weekend from hell but it was worth it for the fantastic, bitter cold, ten miles that I rode that evening. With around the 33bhp mark, the bike doesn't have mind numbing power but it sure does shift. With a spirited twist of the throttle, it accelerates strongly and the exhaust note is one to remember - it is gorgeous. When I'm riding it, I don't feel the need to race around like an idiot. I'm relaxed, doing 45mph and I'm still having fun!

With reams of gaffa tape and home made brackets, the bike is one true bodge job. But I just think that this adds to the quirkiness and character of this kooky bike. I've never been a huge fan of cruisers but this bike is a lot of fun. First impressions can be deceiving but so far, it's great.

I can safely say, that it's the best £300 I've ever spent. 

What's the big deal with getting your knee down?

I've done it a few times. Perhaps not spectacularly, but my knee has touched the ground on several occasions. I used to be obsessed with it, although not quite sure why. Perhaps it's because whenever you see motorbikes on telly, they're racing around dragging their knees off bends and it looks cool. Well that's the reason why really isn't it? It's cool. I have to admit, it does look pretty impressive when you see some local nutter mashing their sliders up.

Our S.L.A.P nutter, Donnell on his old Rs125

Call me old and boring if you will but I seemed to have outgrown that phase and have begun to question what's the real point in it. I mean, is being a crazy, reckless rider the only way to gain any street cred from other bikers?

Don't get me wrong, I do ride fast and I love to crank my bike around quiet, twisty roads but I don't think an adrenaline fuelled ride should have to involve trying to get your knee to hit the tarmac, riding out of your comfort zone. I have plenty of fun riding at my own pace, in my own way. But maybe that's just me.

I feel that there's a sort of pressure to ride this way. What happened to relaxing, taking in the scenery and actually enjoying the fact that you're riding a bike? Not just so fuelled up on whether you're going to make it round the next corner or not. I'm not saying that we should all trundle around at 40mph but we shouldn't be receiving this pressure to drive like a maniac.

Riding within your limits makes your ride comfortable and fun. Riding out of your limits makes your ride scary and dangerous.

I'm not saying don't get your knee down, just don't die trying.

The hunger for something more

Turning 16 in January 2010, I passed my CBT and quite happily rode around on it for 9 months or so. I cherished my little Derbi Gpr 50 nude, taking it everywhere from a trip to the shops, to a 6 hour journey to the Welsh coast.

My Derbi Gpr 50 nude on our Fairbourne trip

However, November came and I suddenly realised that my 17th was imminent.  I began to fantasise about a 125... My evenings were spent scrolling through eBay, looking at what I could and couldn't afford. Sooner or later, the Derbi's spot in the garage had been replaced with my 125 - before I was even 17!

January came again and I began to ride around on my Hyosung Gv125. A few months in, I began to ride much faster around bends. Consequently, this led to my low exhaust and foot pegs being dragged around every round-a-bout. Therefore, I sold the Hyosung and bought my Yamaha Yzf R125.

The R125 was probably my most favoured bike out of the five that I've owned; with the extra engine power and ground clearance, I began to race around, dragging my knees off bends. I took the R125 on day trips to Wales and once on a very wet road trip to Devon. But yet again, the hunger for something more was creeping in...

My Yzf R125 on our Woolacombe trip

I took my test not long after my 18th Birthday and had bought my 33bhp Suzuki Sv650s a month or two later. Now, the Sv650 has taken me to amazing places; a snowy, winter trip to Barmouth, a sun-flooded day at the horseshoe pass and an epic 1500 mile journey through France. Yet believe it or not, I still wish for more; a bike with more power, more comfort and more touring capabilities. Once again, my evenings are filled with eBay searches and reading the MCN classified ads.

My Sv650s on my France trip

My point is, in the days of my 50 and 125s, I was in such a crazy rush to upgrade to something more powerful, I was totally oblivious to the fact that I was having the time of my life. I now look back in regret that I didn't spend a bit more time with my little Derbi and my Yzf R125.

And now a message to all readers that are still riding their 50s and 125s; don't make the same mistake as me, rushing through the best time of your life wishing for something better. Just love what you have at the moment, because one day, you'll really miss it.

But a question that I will leave with you is this:

At what point will we ever be satisfied with the bike we've got? Or will we always have a hunger for something more?

Living with a Yamaha Yzf R125

I am the owner of a 2010 Yamaha Yzf R125 in the 'power black' colour scheme, this was my third bike i've owned (and most certainly the best). I purchased it second hand in June 2011, making me the second owner of this bike. I would always recommend buying second hand. I mean, my bike was 8 months old when I bought it for £2500 (they are £4300 brand new) That's a whopping £1800 saving on a bike that is near enough new anyway! Other second hand prices can vary from £1900 (a 2008 Okay condition) to £3500 (a 2011 Mint condition)

I have fitted an R&G tail tidy (which I think is compulsory really, usually the standard license plate holder sticks out ten foot away from the bike) I also fitted a K&N air filter, Renthal lightweight gold chain and sprockets and a Remus exhaust system. My advice is don't bother with the air filter but definitely buy an exhaust and the renthal chain and sprockets, the renthal chain and sprockets last twice as long as the stock and cost only £10 more. And because the Yamaha is a single, when you put an exhaust on it (and remove the baffle - which is the plug like thing held in by a sirclip) it sounds like something so much bigger and violent. A big thumping sound emmits from the exhaust which turns heads... until they see your L plates.

I don't commute on the bike as my college and job is over the road, but I can guess that it would make a decent commuter. It has a higher seat than most 125's which is better for taller riders and provides more comfort. This, combined with reasonably low pegs and higher bars gives so much more comfort than you'd find on an rs 125 or a mito etc... The bike also has a lot of midrange power, being a 4 stroke, meaning that you don't have to rev the nuts off it to get it going, making commuting a lot more forgiving on your wrists. (The bike can still get to 50 mph whilst remaining under 6000 RPM).

I use this bike purely for social activity, spending every second of my free time on my bike when i'm not at college or at work. My mate has a 2011 Aprilia Rs 125 and I mostly ride with him, so I get to see how the bikes compare. Everyone raves on about how much faster 2 strokes are than 4 strokes but really when i'm riding with him, his bike is only 6 mph faster than mine (The Aprilia does 83mph on the flat, and the Yamaha doess 77mph). The most notable difference though is the suspension and handling. The handling on the Yamaha is reasonable but by not having upside down forks and clip-on bars, it does not compare to the Aprilia which has the forged yoke and USD forks. The brakes are good on both bikes (the Yamaha has Brembo calipers too - how cool is that?) and the tyres are both good although i'd have to say that the  Aprilia's Pirelli's are better than the Yamaha's Michelin's.

The Yamaha also has a huge range of accessories to choose from to make the bike personal to you, for example manufacturers supply: Double bubble screens, tail tidies, exhausts (even akrapovic), lighting, seat cowels, carbon fibre fairing panels and headlight lense covers. The Rs125 lacks this providing just (all I can find) an Arrow exhaust system and tail tidy. This may not be an issue for most but customising their motorcycle might be an interest to some.

But a good point with the Yzf R125 is how much cheaper it is to maintain. After the first service, this bike is due services every 4000 miles. With petrol prices rising (£1.35 per litre) fuel consumption is now becoming an important factor to motorcycling. The little 4 stroke does 80 miles per gallon which is sublime to say the least, meaning cheap transport.

In contrast, the Rs 125 is so much more expensive to run (bear in mind they cost around the same when bought new) it is due services about every 3000 miles and can sometimes require top end rebuilds every 12000 miles (depending on how they've been ridden). It is also a good idea to invest in top quality, fully synthetic 2 stroke oil to prolong the life of the Aprilia. This 2 stroke oil is around £15 per litre, and the bike does 35 miles per gallon and uses a litre of 2 stroke oil every 2 tanks of petrol. This works out very expensive.

By owning an R125  you might have to suffer some compromise in terms of handling and... 6mph. But it is so much cheaper, practical, just as fun and still (in my opinion) looks as stunning as the Aprilia.

In August I went on a road trip on this bike to Woolacombe in North Devon which is about 200 miles away and it rained for all of those miles and the bike did not scare me once. It was comfy, confident and the engine never missed a beat, considering it was going non-stop for 8 hours.

This bike is often overrated in terms of performance by Yamaha (although it still is quicker than most 4 stroke 125's) and underrated in terms of fun by 2 stroke enthusiasts. This is a great bike and I wouldn't recommend anything else to a 125 learner rider.

My Yamaha Yzf R125

My mate's Aprilia Rs125

Tom