I'm back!

Hi guys

A lot has changed in the past year (can't believe it's been that long since I last posted something).

I had sold my Yamaha Fz6N just before starting my new job (I'll get to that in a minute) and bought a little Hyosung Gt250r as a commuter bike. To be perfectly honest, the Hyosung handled brilliantly and still had quite a bit of poke about it for something with less than 30bhp - didn't look too bad either! However, I was constantly battling with reliability issues and breakdowns - it's electrics are clearly made of Spaghetti.

After a few months I was becoming increasingly frustrated with the bike (and the butt of all jokes with my mates) so I ended up selling it as spares or repairs before purchasing my brand new L5 Suzuki Sv650s.

It's safe to say I'm much happier being back on an SV. That 70bhp V twin lump is just the perfect blend of everything you'll ever need on the road. It's one of those rare and great 'do-it-all' bikes that exist - except this one's only a few hundred pound more than the price of a 125! I simply cannot rate them enough.



As well as this I now work at a Suzuki and Yamaha dealer called Streetbike in Halesowen. I work in the clothing and helmets section, selling top brands like Dainese, Halvarssons and RST which is just amazing. In less than a year, this job has taken me away to the Silverstone MotoGP, training days with big helmet brands such as Arai and Shoei and even on a 3 day business trip to Italy where I visited Dainese headquarters and had a look at the new 2016 collection.

It's safe to say that I'm buzzing and I'm going to have plenty of things to write about. This job has completely made me fall in love with motorbikes all over again - which is no bad thing (unless you ask my missus).

Finally, I have two trips planned for this year that I hope to be recording and writing about, so keep an eye out for those! 

It's safe to say I'm back... and for good.

Thoughts on the Fz6...

I've owned the Yam for almost two months now. I've done a bit of commuting, a bit of Sunday scratching and a 300 mile day around Wales. So I'm starting to recognise the good bits of the bike and also the more niggly bits.

First impression:

A bloke in his mid twenties reversed his van onto the drive. He greeted me with a firm handshake and introduced himself. Then the back doors of the van swung open. I remember telling myself not to get too excited about it because it may cause me to buy something I may regret. But as I got my first glimpse of those two underseat scorpion cans and that fat 180 tyre, the excitement got the better of me.

We wheeled the bike out onto the driveway and began to inspect it. There were a few stone chips on the tank, to be expected of a naked bike really, and a few wear marks on the grab rails. This really didn't bother me at all. It had full service history, receipts, the red master key - everything. With only 16,700 miles on the clock and a modest asking price, I knew I was onto a bit of a bargain.

It's dripping with extras, which is not bad thing in my book! It arrived with carbon fibre side panels, a carbon hugger and front mudguard, this compliments the metallic black colour scheme and (in my opinion) looks really trick - far from tacky. A Dynojet power commander is mapped to the twin scorpion exhausts, improving fuel economy and power delivery. Some of the more sensible extras include a smart looking bellypan, to keep the downpipes in good condition, and a decent sized, genuine Yamaha flyscreen - which makes so much difference.

It seemed a shame not to buy it eh?

First ride:

12 hours after buying it, I was finally able to ride it. After taking the fly screen off and the er... decibel killer out I started it up. It was so much louder than the Sv. It was a constant, noisy, buzzy engine and it sounded awesome.

I pulled off the drive and that's when I began to panic. I knew that riding an inline four would be different to a V twin but I don't think I realised just how much different it is. Used to keeping my revs low whilst trundling down my road, at 2,500rpm the Fz6 was spluttering and jerking all over the shop - it just couldn't do it like the Sv could.

I spent a good few hours embarrassing myself around my hometown before deciding to actually take it for a proper ride. So I headed down some familar roads to see how it performed... and performed it did. It is literally the polar opposite of the Sv650; gutless and jerky at lower revs, the Fazer struggles around town, overtakes have to be taken in lower gears and the bike just doesn't suit calmer riding.

However if you take the digital rev counter above 8,000rpm, it sure shows you what it's made of. If you really give it some wellie, the front end feels light and those ridiculously loud pipes are screaming at you, spurring you on. It is such a massive thrill. But what makes this acceleration feel faster than what it probably is, is the fact that you have no wind protection. So when you're pinning the throttle back, the wind is pinning you back. The first time I took it to high revs it took me by surprise and shifted me to the back of my seat, I was clinging on with all my might. It is physically draining. High speed riding is when my fly screen comes in handy, it eases so much strain on your shoulders and neck, you really will be thanking it after a day's riding, even if it looks a bit bulbous.

The first time I used the brakes I was caught out. Taken straight from the R6, these have great stopping ability, superior to the Sv650's poor Toxicos. It handles around corners well and I don't find it worse than the Sv, and that handled brilliantly. The previous owner had dropped the forks of the Fz by 10mm or so, to make it turn sharper. I haven't tried it standard yet so I'm not sure how big of a difference this makes. I've also recently added some flat renthal bars on it which has changed the riding position and handling significantly - I prefer it as it feels much more 'whippy' around corners even though it does lean you a little further forward. Besides - they look cooler and surely that's a good thing?

So how does it compare to the Sv?

On paper, the Fz6n is better in every way. It has over twenty extra horsepower, it's much comfier, better on fuel (but only with the power commander fitted), the brakes are better and it gives you so much more of an adrenaline rush. I personally feel and know that it is a much better bike. But I still feel like there's something missing.

It doesn't have the bubbly, lumpy quirks of that glorious V twin engine. The Sv's engine feels like a playful pet, purring along to that beautiful V twin beat. Whereas the Fz6 engine feels like an energetic insect - brutal and buzzy, must be raced otherwise sat in the garage. Anything in the middle doesn't work quite right.

It just doesn't quite have the character or personality that the Sv had. Maybe it's psychological. I might just be a bit strange, personifying bikes by using words like 'character' but I personally believe that is one of the most important things in motorbikes, it gives a bond between rider and machine. It's a good thing.

That's not to say that the Fz6 is a bad bike of course. As I've said, with decent brakes and a well performing engine, this is one cracking bike, much better than the Sv. With a few issues with snatchy fuel injection on the earlier models and a clunky gearbox being the only real problems, this really is a fantastic bike. The earlier Fazer's from 1998 onwards are brilliant too. There's a lot about and they've been tried and tested over time, meaning only one thing - they're ace.

The Sv still has a place in my heart though. You won't be forgotten.

Why I picked the Fz6

If you have read my previous blog post: 'Thoughts on my next bike' then you may be wondering why I bought my Yamaha Fz6n. A Fazer wasn't mentioned at all - I was originally looking at bikes such as the 650 Vstrom or the Xt660r. I didn't consider the naked 600 an option at all.

However, in my specification I stated that I would like a bike with better fuel economy, superior comfort and practical, hard luggage. For some reason I totally bypassed bikes like Fazers, Bandits and Hornets. How many middleweight nakeds do you see with hard luggage doing road trips? Loads.

The Fz6 ticks all of my boxes... kind of.

The new beast - Yamaha Fz6n

First of all, there is an obvious change in comfort. Compared to my old Sv which had fairly low bars but (more importantly) very high foot pegs, this Fazer feels like I'm sat in an armchair. My 6"1 frame fits comfortably into the roomy saddle. My wrists are no longer aching as the raised bars give me hours of riding with minimal complaints. But the foot pegs make the biggest difference, my flamingo legs are no longer touching my elbows, they are much more relaxed without compromising much ground clearance - although my foot peg has hit the floor once or twice.

Although my bike isn't currently fitted with any hard luggage it quite easily can be. Top boxes are the easiest and cheapest form of luggage for my 2005 model Fz6n. Being a pre-07 model, the pillion foot pegs are welded to the subframe as opposed to being bolted on like later models - this restricts the ability to add on panniers. This is a fairly big deal as the underseat exhausts prevent most soft throw-overs from being used - they'd just melt. Luckily, I have obtained a pair of semi-rigid panniers that fit fine, without coming into contact with the silencers. My trip later in the year is to tour Scotland, nine days wild camping. So by using an upcoming Wales weekend trip in July as a trial run, I will test out my throw overs and see whether buying a top box would be necessary.

Finally, fuel economy. Standard Fz6s average at around 45mpg but with the aid of the power commander fitted to my bike, it's hitting over 50mpg - and that's not bad considering I don't take it that steady. This is about the same, if not better than the Sv's fuel consumption. So there's nothing to complain about, but it's nothing to rave about either.

How well will it cope for a long haul? Only one way to find out...

Compared to the Sv, it is better in every way; it is more economical, comfier and has over twenty extra horsepower. So it fits the bill alright but is still yet to be tested on a road trip, this weekend to Wales will be the test to see how it performs.

Yet the biggest reason I picked this particular Fz6 is because... it was a bloody good bargain! And we all love a good deal, don't we?

Let's just hope I've made the right decision.

Thoughts on my next bike

I think my departure with my Sv650s may be coming soon.

I've owned this bike for 18 months - the longest that I've owned a bike. After a lot of Sunday scratching, trips to Wales and a journey to south France, I have loved and bonded with the Sv a lot but I have come to realise a crucial flaw...

It is not good for road trips.

I've had several 200 mile days and one 700 mile day and it's very fair to say that it is not comfy at all. The pegs are too high, the bars are too low and the clutch is quite heavy in traffic. This results in calf pain, lower back ache and a lot of pressure on your wrists. Call me a wimp if you will but It's really putting me off doing trips on it. I've looked into bar raisers and they cost close to £300 to raise them an inch which I can't really justify in case they make no difference.

Economically, it isn't bad but it isn't great either. Lately I have been getting between 40-50mpg and when I'm pricing up trips this is bumping the price up quite a bit - especially when I'm on a budget. The tank range is around 125 miles before the fuel light flashes which really is annoying when you're trying to make up a lot of miles and requires many fuel stops.

And finally, the luggage capabilities drive me insane. I have carried my camping gear on the Sv for three road trips. I use soft, oxford throw-over panniers and a Hein Gericke roll bag to carry my sleeping bag, cameras and tent. They're okay to use if you're going somewhere for a week and won't be changing campsite but if you will be packing and unpacking every day on a tour, you will consider just booking into a B&B. It's such a pain in the arse to strap and unstrap all of this gear day in, day out.

Don't get me wrong, the Sv650s is a fantastic bike and I have no regrets in buying it. However, as road trips have became more important to me than a quick blast on a Sunday, I feel that's it's time to ditch the sportsbike and get something better for trips.

It's time for the Sv650s to go... but what next?

My next bike must have reasonable comfort, hard luggage and good fuel economy. Off road ability would be pretty good too as a little mud track in the middle of a road trip to Scotland could be conquered, adding another dimension of riding to the trip, but this isn't totally necessary.

I know this specification sounds typically dull. Call me an old man if you want, but I'm putting my road trips above racing around.

So one of my options is to make a comfortable change to Sports tourers such as a 2003 Honda Vfr800 V-tec or a 2006 Triumph Sprint St. This would be the power option. With both bikes producing over 100bhp, I certainly will be able to cruise nicely on motorways and still have fun on the twisties. However, fuel consumption is not as good compared to little 650 singles and twins and comfort will still be quite compromised.

My other option is to get a slower, frugal, single cylinder bike such as a BMW G650Gs or a Yamaha Xt 660 R/X. A G650gs will tick all of the boxes in my specification and can return 65-70mpg, as well as being reasonably priced but will 47bhp be too slow?

Finally, my favourite idea is to stick with similar power to my Sv650 but in a more comfortable form. Such as the 2011-13 new Suzuki Dl650 Vstrom, this bike obviously uses the same engine as the Sv650/Gladius but has been made more economical and comes in a much more comfortable, touring-based package without sacrificing much power. Other bikes that fall into this category for me is the Kawasaki Versys, Honda Cb500x or a Yamaha Tdm 900.

Suzuki Dl650 V-strom... Courtesy of motorcyclistonline.com

If you've owned or ridden any of these bikes and you could give me any advice on what you think about my change, I would be very grateful. I'm quite torn and I really want a bike that will last me a good, few years and be up for a few, big trips.

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.

Why road trips are so important to me

The early morning fog lingers over empty roads, the resonating sound of birds chirping echoes through your ears and the icy, cold wind bites your cheeks. A mixture of wonder, fear and suspense fill your veins. You roll your heavily loaded bike out of the garage, checking your oil level, tyre pressures and chain tension. You start the bike.

You're ready.

A leg is swung over the bike, you hit first gear and you trundle off into the morning sun. Over the next few days you'll be visiting places you've never been before. You'll bond over a few beers at the end of a hard days riding. You'll have ups, downs and everything in the middle. But when you come out of it at the end; the ups will be cherished, the downs will be laughed at and everything in the middle will be remembered fondly.

That's a road trip.

One of our smaller road trips to Barmouth, but a magnificent journey never the less.

It's something I'd never even considered when I bought my 50cc. But as an anxious sixteen year old, I loaded up my little Derbi and as soon as the wheels rolled off my drive on that fateful day, I was converted.

A road trip by motorcycle is so much more involved than one by car. Motorcyclists are highly exposed to the elements. We get blown around by winds, soaked by rain and dried out by the sun, it's something that car drivers take for granted inside their little, heated box. However, I don't see this exposure as a curse. Surely, battling through the bitter weather and coming out of it in the end smiling would make you proud? To me, it's something you can fondly look back on in retrospect.


To all of those who haven't had the pleasure of embarking on a road trip, just jump on your bike and go. It doesn't matter how much you spend, how far you go or what bike you're on. Anything's possible.

Over three years ago, four sixteen year old lads with paper rounds scraped together £50 and took their little 50cc bikes to the Welsh coast. It's four days of my life that I will never forget. If we could do it, anyone can.

It wasn't a booze-up. It wasn't a holiday. It was a road trip.

Says it all

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?

Do you need a big bike to be a 'biker'?

I distinctly remember two trips (of hundreds) to my local bike cafe. They were both inside June 2012, a month after passing my bike test. The first, I raced down the Bridgnorth road on my little Yamaha Yzf R125; polluting Shropshire's quiet, calm farms with the deafening exhaust note protruding from my Remus Powercone.

After fifteen minutes of 12,000 rpm,  I pulled up at the cafe on a fairly quiet friday afternoon, wearing my one piece Spyke leathers and my usual Shoei lid. I grabbed a usual cup of tea and went to sit outside to enjoy the glorious sunshine with my fellow bikers - or so I thought.

Myself on the Yamaha Yzf R125

I was ignored. I attempted to speak to the regulars and I got the odd mumble and a shrug. I tried to nod and say hello to the new people turning up and I still got nothing. Puzzled, I swung my leg over the little 125 and blasted off.

Two weeks later, I returned on my Suzuki Sv650s. Grinning behind my tinted visor, proud of myself for finally getting a big bike, I raced down the cafe on a sunny Saturday. I pulled up again, wearing the same gear, drank the same tea, on the same bench - and I was having people speak to me.

The weirdest thing was, was that nothing had changed - I had the same full leathers, the same tinted visor and was sat in the same spot. I didn't even have L plates on the 125 as I had received my full license. The only difference was having a bike with an extra 525cc.

Is this right though?

When you ride, do you nod to Scooters still? Do you nod to Harleys? What about Yzf R125 riders in full leathers? Or do you require a 'big fast bike' to receive any sort of recognition from the biker community.

It's a form of snobbery. And I don't like it.

The long Journey home...

I knew that the outward journey would always be simpler than the return journey. But I just didn’t realise how much more simple it would be. On my journey to the Charente, the 450 miles from Folkestone seemed like a daunting prospect in the mind of an eighteen year old on a 33bhp bike. But little did I know, the 680 miles I had to ride on the journey home would be so much more daunting, with all of my fears rolling into this one, epic journey home.

However, my father accompanied me on his G650GS on the trip down, which made it rather straight forward – follow the Beemer’s back tyre. Predictably, it was uneventful and everything went as planned, I didn’t even ride onto the wrong side of the road. The only things I had to complain about was the resemblance of my backside looking like a baboon’s and the 38 degree heat wafting through my helmet, feeling like someone was holding a hairdryer to your face.

After a week or so in the sun, exploring the country roads and the quirky French villages, it was time to start up the SV once more and ride back up to England – alone. I had just less than 700 miles to do today so sensibly, I decided to head off early to give myself plenty of time to reach Calais, in case any dramas occurred.

For some reason I had built up this terrific fear of the French Gendarmes. I don’t know why, perhaps it’s the guns on their guns on their hips or the stories I’ve heard of them seizing bikes for speeding – most likely the guns.

I was approaching Tours on the A10 toll road, and had just finished paying the 19€ when this Gendarme stood in front of my bike and pointed at me. I remember very clearly the two words that I kept repeating to myself: “Shit, fuck, shit, fuck…”

He shouted over in English, “Eh you, over here” And then gestured to this small layby where there were four or five Gendarme vans and a group of Gendarmes staring at me pulling up. I was the only vehicle that had been pulled to the side.

I was bewildered, had I been caught speeding? Is my Remus Revolution too loud? Is it my iPod headphones poking out of my jacket? All of these concerns and worries started hitting me as I started giving myself reasons to get in trouble. I even looked up at the sky and was praying for my bike not to be taken off me, I love it too much.

The man that had instructed me to pull over walked alongside my bike and asked me for my documents which, luckily, I had remembered to pack last minute. I decided to stay sitting on the bike as I had read somewhere that getting off your bike is a sign of aggression in foreign countries, I don’t know if that really is true but just this once I didn’t want to chance anything.

An attractive female dog handler walked over to me and told me to take my helmet off and step off my bike. I did so, sneakily tucking my headphones back into my pocket and turning them off. She then told me that the dog was going to sniff my bike and myself for drugs. I’m not a druggy but I was wearing second hand leathers and using a second hand tank bag - I hope that the previous owner wasn’t.

Luckily, the dog sniffed around and found nothing, so she smiled at me and told me I could go. I collected my documents and then nervously headed back onto the road. A sigh of relief fogged up my helmet as the Gendarme vans became small dots in my mirror.

I plodded on for another 110 miles and was approaching a petrol station but my fuel light hadn’t come on yet. And as soon as my front wheel had gone past the slip road, my fuel light started blinking at me. Sod’s law.

I began to panic again, how far will the next petrol station be? Am I going to get stranded in the middle of France?

I saw a sign for an aire in 10km, so I thought I wouldn’t be very conservative with my fuel. I sped off and arrived at the aire. It was two picnic tables and a car park. Oh shit.

My clocks were now on 115 miles and I’m pretty sure the reserve light only lasts 20 miles. I carried on the motorway searching everywhere until eventually I came across a sign indicating a fuel station in 38km.

I slowed down to 55mph to save some fuel and even tucked my head behind my screen to try and conserve as much fuel as possible. It was definitely not the most comfortable, fun thing that I’ve done - I even had caravans overtaking me it was that bad.

After half an hour or so, I finally arrived at the petrol station with my bike spluttering and coughing for fuel. Relief instantly swept over me. Somehow, I had managed to scrape almost 160 miles from a tank of petrol. It’s supposed to do 140 miles to a tank, so I guess the 55mph and head-down-action really helped me out there.

After the fuel experience, I vowed to always stop for fuel when I reached around 100 miles. Despite this, I still only stopped three times for fuel, in total, which I was quite proud of.

I arrived in Calais near 5 O’clock, so I decided to see if I could be put onto an earlier ferry. I rode into the port and was a lone bike in a sea of cars. After an hour of waiting to get to the booth, I learned that there were massive delays with all P&O ferries. It was horrendous. The bloke in the ticket box gave me a ticket saying “Depart: 18:10” – I boarded the ferry at nine O’clock…

I mustn’t complain though, whilst I was waiting I met a guy on an RSV1000 who had just returned from the Nurburgring and another bloke on a 1200 bandit who had rode from only 30 miles away from where I was staying.

We all sat in the cafeteria on the ferry, exchanging stories and drinking tea. It made the journey so much better, having someone to talk to, as I had endured a whole day of no conversation. We all said goodbye and jumped back on our bikes to carry on with the journey home.

I had arranged to meet Jamie, in Maidstone. So I pulled into the service station off the M20 and met my riding buddy for a bit of a morale boost and a good old McDonald’s. I even went to the shop to buy RiDE magazine and found a picture of myself on page 17!

We endured a four hour journey home in the rain and a feeling of achievement rushed over me as our wheels rolled onto my drive. It was done.

My hands were so cold; my freezer felt warm and my arse felt as sore as a convict’s but my 700 mile nightmare was over.

But when I think back about it, it was a fantastic journey. With it’s ups and downs, the sense of the unknown and the strangest feeling of being alone in a foreign country.

Just me, my SV and the long stretch of tarmac taking me all the way back home.

Fantastic.