I love commuting!

It’s something I’ve always said that I’ve never wanted to do.

I’ve never liked the idea of running bikes into the ground, letting the salty, muddy roads corrode your pride and joy. Surely public transport or just walking would be a worthy sacrifice to save your treasured bike?

However after recently coming into a new job, I’ve been forced into a 3 mile commute. There are no buses at 5:30am, so for the first few weeks I had a miserable 45 minute, winter walk every morning.  It was bleak and cold every morning and caused me to wake up very early to get to work on time.

Then December came. The Virago was finally on the road; a cheap and cheerful, bombproof bike that I didn’t really care about cosmetically. In my eyes, it could be thick with rust and corrosion but as long as it had that solid, reliable 35bhp engine in it, I couldn’t care less. A perfect winter hack.

So that’s what I did. Every morning since that day I have jumped on the old thumper and went off to work… and I’ve got to say, it’s fantastic.

The old lunker

Half past five, the roads are empty and quiet. Not a sound to be heard, just the rippling exhaust note and the pitter patter of rain drops on your visor; riding down a few country lanes with no light, except from the small, dim beam protruding from my rusting Yamaha’s headlight.

Although amidst the fun of the past week, there was one slight mishap. Twice on the same journey to work, my bike broke down. Angry and pissed off, I fiddled around with the electrics at the side of a round-a-bout, as previous breakdowns have been electric related. After a few wiggles I managed to get it going again. I continued onwards for another mile before breaking down yet again. Irritatingly, I had broken down at the bottom of a very dark and very wet hill. I gave up and began to push my little nail up the daunting incline.

But despite this, I still love it. Looking back on that experience, it was horrible at the time but man… it makes going to work such an adventure. And that’s what commuting does doesn’t it? It turns your dreaded journey to work into an exciting escapade and there’s no machine better to do it on than some battered up, 24 year old cruiser. Well not for me at least.

But even still, the most strange thing is, is that in the past month I have not had a single dry commute to work. I’ve rode through rain, ice and hail every day. And it’s warming to think, if it’s good now… what’s the summer commute going to be like?

Bring it on.

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.