Past few months I've been in survival mode. The Skylark - trusty, crusty, rusty Transit has been put put out to pasture. Ice, fog, rain and darkness my grey freezing companions on the daily commute. No such thing as bad weather, jut inappropriate clothing. More so on a motorcycle...
Ah, but this morning! Warmness. And not from stopping and putting my gloves as close as I dare to the engine or accidentally leaning against the silencer in my leggings.
Smarted a little spending what I've saved on fuel recently to buy some tyres for the Enfield. Way back when I first ventured out on a motorbike, tyres were round things filled with air. One each end and made from something jurassic period black. Normally ribbed Speed Master front and zigzag Safety Mileage rear courtesy of Avon with a propensity to throw you down the road without a moment's caution. SM. Fondly dubbed Suicide Masters and always blamed without any consideration for the handling foibles of the worn out bikes they were fitted to. Never remember wearing any out, never remember buying any new either - but if they looked too perished there was always another set lurking on a scrap bike somewhere.
Big revelation! New tyres are are made of honest to goodness rubber. And grip! Even though they look the same as the Suicide Masters of (very) Olde I feel confident enough to go round corners and everything! Obviously this post is tempting fate like it's going out of fashion, but hey that's what it's there for. No matter how sad, I just wanted to share how loop-de-loop I am with my new rubber hoops...
