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?

What makes a biker?

Before I start, I would like to point out that my examples are all stereotypes and I realise that there are exceptions etc... But for the sake of this article, I'm going to use these stereotypes.

A 125 commuter travels to work and back everyday. Regardless of the weather, he wears his same textile suit or waterproof overalls and rides the same 40 mile round trip everyday. He never uses his bike for a nice ride at the weekend, it's purely a form of transport. He does approximately 10,000 miles a year.

courtesy of www.zigwheels.com

A Ducati 1098 rider wheels the beast out of his heated garage, whenever the sun is shining and the roads are sure to stay dry. He wears one piece Dainese leathers, knox gloves, Sidi boots and an Arai lid. All of his gear is brand new, squeaky clean and matching the colours of the Duc. When he goes out for a scratch, he is back within an hour or two, cleans his bike and then wheels it away for the next time the sun comes out. He does around 300 miles in a year.

A Harley Davidson owner spends most of his free days polishing his Road King, buying extra bits to bolt onto it and when there's no polishing or buying to do, he flicks through catalogues and custom chopper magazines, reading about other people's different Harley's etc... He rides the Road King occasionally when the weather's really nice but most of the time it's sat in the garage being cleaned. He does around 500 miles a year.

courtesy of www.motorcyclenews.com

There's a 16 year old boy on a Aprilia Sr50 scooter. He rides around his local town, never riding any more than 3 miles away from his house. He sits outside McDonald's and carparks with his mates, also on scooters, blasting out music on most nights. He wears no gear as he doesn't feel the need to and does around 2,000 miles a year.

The owner of a streetfightered 1998 Suzuki Bandit 1200 attends all the bike meets, goes out in most weathers and who's bike is a bit tatty and well used. He wears second hand leathers, a nitro helmet and in bad weather he wears hi-viz. He does annual bike trips with his mates and is prepared to go as far as his bike will take him. He is a member of several forums who all discuss bikes, he also makes YouTube vlogs and writes a blog. He does around 8,000 miles a year.

courtesy of www.bikechatforums.com

Now, out of those 5 examples, which ones would you call a 'biker'?

Do you need to ride your bike everyday to be a biker? Or can you wheel it out of the garage once a month and still be called a biker? Do you need to have a big expensive Ducati to be a biker? Or will a 50cc Scooter be enough? Do you need to be a part of the 'online biker community' over YouTube and forums to be a biker? Or can you ride solo everywhere and still be a biker? Are fair weather riders not bikers? What about the gear you wear, do you have to be fully kitted out to be a biker or will a jumper, jeans and trainers do?

Now that's a lot of questions. Technically, all of my examples are bikers. They ride bikes don't they? But is there a checklist out there which must be filled to become a true biker?

My personal view is that they all are bikers. Prejudice is an easy mistake to make, perhaps the Ducati rider has an important job which requires him to attend all sorts of conference meetings around the country so he simply doesn't have time to use it as much as he would like. And for when it rains, he probably just doesn't want his Ducati to rot away. 

As for the Harley rider, I think he's a biker. He obsesses over making his bike look the way he wants. Remember, biking isn't just about the riding, it can also be about the tinkering and the pride you hold in your bike. The commuter's a biker too, he relies on his bike day in, day out, riding in all weathers - that's pretty hardcore if you ask me. The bandit rider uses his bike frequently and loves it, he participates in all sorts of bike meets and in my book he is definitely a biker.

However, the tricky one is the young lad on his scooter. A lot of people would argue that he isn't a biker and that he just uses it for a bit of independence and a stepping stone for getting a car. But, isn't independence very relevant to motorcycling? That's what it is for most people, having something that is totally yours that can take you wherever you wish to go. I think he is.

So that's it. Everyone with a bike, in my point of view, is a biker.

But what do you think? Do you agree or disagree? Feel free to comment below...

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.

Do you need an adventure bike to have an adventure?

Courtesy of www.hdwallpapersinn.com

Looks cool doesn't it?

But is it really necessary to have a £15,000, 270 kg bike that has more whizzes and gadgets than the average spaceship? Do you really need heated seats, grips and clothing? Do you need ABS and traction control? What about electronic adjustable suspension? I mean sure, if you're into all of that stuff than fair enough, but is it really necessary? Could you live without it?

Will a 2013 Bmw R1200Gs get you to Vietnam and back? Yes. Will a 1987 Honda C90 Cub be able to cope with the same trip? Of course it would.

Obviously, the bike which you choose will adjust the difficulty of your trip. But it could also adjust the fun. For instance, you could tour the world on an R1 which will obviously not be as economical on fuel and tyres, it will be very uncomfortable and luggage space is limited. But would you have a hoot? Probably more so than some dull, lifeless, built-for-the-job workhorse. 

Then again, you could travel the world on an old 80s Dt125 and you'll be breaking down frequently and requiring rebuilds etc... You'll have a top speed of 65mph and will struggle up hills, but the delays and the hard bits are what make a trip memorable. Which brings me onto my next question;

'Is buying a bike made for touring the best thing to tour on?'

Maybe, depends on how tough you are. Can you handle having to travel at 40mph on a scooter in the bitter cold rain with no heated grips or big, wide fairing to take all the impact? Or do you find that idea a true adventure?

I'm not saying a GS or a Pan European etc... are dull, boring bikes. I'm sure there're owners out there that love them, and I don't have any particular hatred towards them. I'd just like to open the new narrow-minded view of 'I need a GS to have an adventure' a little bit further.

Because it's simply not true.

I will become a motorcycle journalist.

Lately, I have been neglecting this blog. I was never 'full on' with it but over the past 12 months I seemed have to forgotten about it.

A few days ago, my friends and I started to discuss careers and plans for the future over a few pints down the local pub. It was then that I realised that I really am going nowhere with my life, going in and out of dead-end jobs. I've hit a bit of a brick wall.

I obviously have the ambition of becoming a motorcycle journalist and would thrive at the prospect of working for MCN or one it's sister magazines. About 6 months ago I applied to everywhere I could asking for help or work experience.

I had no replies.

And since then I have sort of given up. I know it was a pathetic atttempt and a bit of a long shot but I at least expected a reply and maybe some advice.

However, as i reached the bottom of my Bank's Bitter I began to consider starting all over again. Fulfilling my dreams and doing the things I want to do - Not working at minimum wage factory jobs scraping a living.

Naturally, doubts creep up on me. And I begin to think of my new plan as a pointless journey, but I shoved these dark thoughts to the back of my mind and reminded myself that this is what I want. I want to travel, to see the launches, write the reviews, and become a recognised member of the biking community.

I will not give up at the first hurdle this time.

I will not forget about what I strive to be.

I will become a motorcycle journalist.

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.

My Biking History until now

As my 16th Birthday approached I managed to persuade my Mom to allow me to buy a motorbike. I remember the day I bought my bike, me and my Dad drove all the way to Brighton (about 200 miles away from Kidderminster) with our bike trailer attatched to the back of the car. It was a Derbi gpr 50 nude that I had bought, a very smart bike it was - totally standard though (meaning it could only just get to 50mph) and only a year old. It was a good bargain, I never had any problems with it at all, with the exception of my indicators sometimes flashing super fast - but who really cares about that?

I took my CBT when I had turned sixteen and I was a nervous wreck, terrified of the little 50cc I had. It wasn't the speed that scared me (there wasn't much of that anyway) it was the fear of dropping it and stalling at traffic lights. To be honest, my first month of riding was absolutely awful, I would prepare myself at the traffic lights and as soon as they turned green, I would panic and stall. Or at other times I would see an oncoming car and panic and go too wide around a corner (I am a bit of a dithering idiot).

Me on my 50, a few hours after passing my CBT - January 2010

Thankfully for me (and other road users) this dodgy riding didn't last long, and before I knew it I was high flying on the way to my first camping trip to Welshpool in May. I was joined by two of my riding buddies on their 50's (a Motohispania Rx50 and a Yamaha Tzr 50) and it was a pretty good trip.

The three of us setting off to Welshpool - May 2010

However, shortly after this trip I had my first accident on Father's day. I remember this because me and my Dad had decided to go for a father-son ride out and then come back home to watch the Moto GP later. There was slippy diesel on a round-a-bout which ended up with me low-siding across the road. Luckily, I was only doing about 20mph so I wasn't hurt, but for the next few weeks I had started to wince whilst going around corners as I still had the sensation of falling off my bike fresh in my mind, making my riding a lot less fun.

My mate also suffered from a slightly more serious crash down a 40mph dual carridgeway, hitting the central reservation. Whilst my other friend had rode straight into a hedge at 55mph and another coming off in the rain, and with everyone crashing I was starting to feel a little anxious about whether having a bike was a good idea.

However, I pushed this worrying thought out of my head as we embarked on our second road trip to Fairbourne (in Wales) which had taken place in August. This trip was even better than the last and the weather was gorgeous - it couldn't get any better than this.

On the way to Fairbourne - August 2010

However, a few weeks after we had arrived home the winter was approaching and there wasn't much riding time left, and with my 17th Birthday coming closer I had to make a decision - Do I learn to drive a car or stick with the bikes?

It turned out I wanted to try and do both on two paperounds and a measly McDonald's wage. So I sold my 50 and bought a Hyosung Gv 125 Aquila for around about the same price - I still saw my bike as my top priority. The Hyosung was alright but wasn't a massive difference from the 50 to the 125 it was very heavy and slow, it did look like a huge bike but it certainly didn't go like one, which was a shame really. I was also really keen to buy some loud pipes for it but nowhere supplied any. I never really had much of an emotional attatchment with this bike - don't get me wrong it's a great bike but I drive like a maniac and this bike really was never made for that.

The Aquila - January 2011

I also managed to save up to buy a Saxo to learn to drive. I found driving a car quite fun although it had none of the adrenaline rush of being on a bike. I really tried to keep my car lessons going, as a car is so much more practical during the winter and rainy days (which we have a lot of in the UK). However, I knew that I could never afford the insurance (£4200!!) and decided to sell it and then spend all of my money on a bike, which I did.

My little car - March 2011

In June, six months after buying the Hyosung, I bought a Yamaha Yzf R125 which is the best bike i've ever bought - it is truely amazing. It has a remus exhaust, K&N air filter and tail tidy. It really does sound mean and looks it too. It will probably be the best looking bike I could ever afford, I really cannot criticise it in anyway other than it doesn't have USD forks or a forged yoke which would improve the handling, as compared to it's regular telescopic forks and (reasonable high) clip on handlebars.

Me and my Yamaha - June 2011

 A few months later our third and latest road trip took place. We went to Woolacombe which is in North Devon and it was a brilliant trip although the weather was nothing compared to year before (look at my articles for more info on the trips).

The campsite in Woolacombe - August 2011

I'm still riding this bike now and I will be upset the day I will sell it for something faster, i've definitely developed a bond with this bike. So that's where I am now, when my test is done expect to see and hear about some other awesome machinery.

Tom

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