My Triumph motorcycle

In this writing I will be sharing with you my experience of owning my first motorcycle in the UK.



I moved to England a little more than a year ago to live with my partner Rachel, who is a native to Britain. When we met one of the things that attracted her to me was that I rode a motorcycle, when we decided to be together there wasn't much time to get all of my things sorted, so I sold a lot of my personal possessions including a large collection of firearms, knives, books and of course my DL650 V-Strom motorcycle.



I now live in London which is a big change from where I was living in the US; I moved here from East Tennessee which is rural with wide roads and no speed cameras. It has taken me a while to get familiar with London and England in general.  In addition to learning all the public transportation options, I have also driven her Mini Cooper. I have struggled at times getting used to the narrow roads and fast driving in both the urban and rural settings, I also can't be trusted to buy train tickets as I screwed that up at Victoria station last weekend. I have found the signage and the traffic flow confusing and leaving a lot to be desired. I have gotten better than when I started here and there are  fewer fights in the car when I drive, so now maybe I am ready to ride out on my own with a motorcycle.



Our relationship is getting stronger all the time, but I am still having a hard time finding my own way and meeting people who I want to have as friends. Rachel's friends for the most part accept me and are friendly enough but they aren't my friends, we have no history or many common interests, other than Rachel there is no connection. The motorcycle, we hope,  is going to possibly open up an avenue to meet people with similar interests, if not, it will at least give me a hobby and connection to a part of my life I once had and enjoyed .



On her suggestion I investigated the purchase of a motorcycle. I have always wanted a Triumph motorcycle and found one on ebay that suited me, it is a 2003 Triumph Sprint ST in Sapphire Blue I put my bid in and waited for the auction to end. I kept thinking someone would wait until the last few minutes to start driving the price up but no one did. I feel very fortunate to have gotten the motorcycle for what I believe is an extremely fair price.



We go to pick the motorcycle up tomorrow, however the adventure started today by going to Infinity Motorcycle on Great Portland Street to pick out our kit. So today we bought 2 helmets, jackets, gloves and a back protector. I can't say enough good things about Infiinity Motorcycle and the staff at the Great Portland Street store.  Dan Savage is the name of the bloke who helped us. He was extremely helpful and kind.



Drove to Aldershot to pick up my motorcycle today.



I was so excited about riding a motorcycle again I hardly slept the night before,  however mixed in with the excitement was a nervousness about my ability to handle riding the motorcycle here in England let alone London. The drive to Aldershot started out ok but quickly turned ugly and was not what anyone would call confidence building. I couldn't follow Tom Tom's directions and got lost trying to leave London, people were driving really aggressively and I had a very hard time understanding how the lanes were changing. It didn't take long for all the ingredients to be cooked up together to cause a fight in the car. Neither one of us slept the night before or for that matter, many of the nights prior and we were both excited and knackered. I would like to be able to tell you that I have learned to slow down and think rationally, unfortunately I have a long history of  being aggressive and easily angered behind the wheel. Add in confusion, being cut off and getting lost and I am right on the edge of my sanity. To our credit, on the M25 we somehow sorted it all out and enjoyed the rest of the trip.



We were going to leave our flat 9ish however, the time we actually left was 10ish. It wouldn't have been an issue if we were not trying to make it back to get to the Camden parking office before they close at 2:00pm on Saturdays. We got to Aldershot at 11:30am and were met by Shawn(the guy I was buying the bike from), his three-legged dog(who I don't remember being told his name) and then of course Shawn's wife (again names not my strong point). Shawn was an absolutely lovely man who seems very intelligent and kind.  He gave me a bunch of extra stuff such as the chain adjuster, a repair and maintenance manual, and left over parts that he no longer had a need for. By the time we signed the paperwork, had a cup of tea and got the gear on it was 12:30pm. It was so completely awesome to feel the motorcycle under me with the engine running and ready to pull away. It felt so natural to me to have the clutch pulled back while throttling up the engine, the potential energy that is transferred through the engine, up a cable, into the handle of the clutch and into my hand was electrifying.



Finally, we left and headed home or more accurately to the Camden parking authority. As we approached the last rest area just outside London, Rachel pulled in, to my delight because I had to wee so badly. We parked the vehicles, Rachel in her Mini and me on the Triumph, Rachel said a red light had come up on the dashboard and she was concerned, hence the reason we pulled in. I looked at the light and it appeared to me to be the tire pressure warning light. We don't own a tire gauge so I thought that after I went to the loo we would go the petrol area and check the pressures with their machine. While I was inside, I was reminded that I was hungary so I bought us some food from the Burger King. The food was recieved with much joy and we decided that we were not going to make it to the parking authority so we chose to relax and enjoy the sunshine. A side note to this is I didn't expect to eat there so I only bought two double cheese burgers for £7.50, one for Rachel to eat on the way and the other for me when we got to our destination.  Rachel then decided that she wanted chips and a drink, normally this wouldn't be a problem, I went back inside and ordered two regular fries and drinks for a total of £7.35. The helpful man behind the counter tells me I should have ordered value meals, thank you is all I dared to say.



Back on the road, we go into West London and it takes an hour to get through Hammersmith and Shepherds Bush, what a nightmare getting through there on a Saturday afternoon. We finally get home just after 3pm and I am so relieved to be home in tact with my new motorcycle.



My first road trip on the Triumph:

London(A406)(M40), Oxford(M40)(A40), Woodstock(A44), Chipping Norton(A44), Rollright Stones(B4026),  Burford(A361), Kelmscott(A417), Faringdon(A417), Uffington 9B4507), Wantage(A417), Reading(A329), Maidenhead(A4), Slough(A4), London(M25)(M40)(A406) 216 miles.



Started later than I wanted (you will see this statement often) and then first thing, missed where I wanted to eat breakfast. I wanted to eat at the Ace Cafe so I could see a lot of other bikers who were going out for rides today. By the time I figured out that I was passing the exit, it was too late to turn around, and there was not another one for a very long way. By the time I a got turned around I was seeing signs for Oxford and decided I would eat when I get there.



Got on the M40 and once the speed cameras were behind me I gave the throttle a nice twist, WHOOOOAAAA what a RIDE!!!!



Had to pee rather bad before getting in to Oxford but I am a bit driven about getting to my destination, no matter how miserable it makes me and the trip. Something I have noticed about English towns and villages is how unwelcoming and confusing they can be compared to my experience in America.



After riding around Oxford for a little while looking for an inviting place to park my bike I finally found where another motorcycle was parked and pulled next to it. As luck may have it, I parked near Brown's Bar and Brasseirie, a Oxford institution. Had a marvelous breakfast of Egg's Benedict and coffee with fantastic service.



After leaving Oxford I headed NW on the A44, the first large village I came was Woodstock. Woodstock appears to be charming, however there isn't much to see from the road running through it, so perhaps next time I will take a side road and investigate what there is to offer in Woodstock.  Continuing up the A44 I was heading to Chipping Norton so that I could visit the Rollright Stones.  The Rollright Stones are three Bronze Age monuments. They compose a stone circle known as the King's Men, the remains of a burial chamber known as the Whispering Knights and then there is the solitary King Stone. When I say disappointed, it just doesn't meet the emotion I had when I finally found the Rollright Stones. It must be a national philosophy of Great Britian that makes finding ancient artifacts and tourist attractions so unbelievable difficult.  The extent that England goes through to make it as hard as possible to find anything of interest is completely without equal, never has a country been so thoroughly under promoted. The fact that there isn't an obvious sign pointing in the right direction on either end of the road that the Rollright Stones is on. It is a big enough attraction that it is listed in the Eyewitness Travel Great Britain, how is it that there are no clear signs directing anyone to it.

Here is what Wikipedia has to say about Rollright Stones  "The Rollright Stones are a complex of megalithic oolitic limestone monuments near the villages of Long Compton, Great Rollright and Little Rollright in England, lying across the present county border between the counties of Oxfordshire and Warwickshire (grid reference SP2930). The complex consists of three separate sites: The King's Men, The King's Stone and The Whispering Knights. According to local folklore the stones are the petrified remains of a king and his knights, however, each set of stones has been found to date from a different period. the name is thought to derive from “Hrolla-landriht” meaning the land of Hrolla."



The King's Men



"The King's Men dates to around 2500-2000 BC and consists of 77 closely-spaced stones forming a stone circle 33 metres in diameter. The stones are set on top of a circular bank with an entrance to the southeast marked by two portal stones. There were originally as many as 105 stones but many have been removed. Approximately a third of the stones were put back in place when the monument was restored in 1882."



The King Stone



"The King Stone is a single, weathered monolith, 2.4 metres high by 1.5 metres wide, standing 76 metres east of the King's Men. The stone was erected between 1800-1500 BC and is believed to have been a marker stone for an early Bronze Age cemetery."



The Whispering Knights



"The Whispering Knights date to around 4000 - 3500 BC and are the remains of the burial chamber of an early or middle Neolithic portal dolmen lying 400 metres east of the King's Men. Four standing stones survive, forming a chamber about 2 square metres in area around a fifth recumbent stone, probably the collapsed roof capstone. In 1764, William Stukeley visited the site and saw the remains of a round barrow, now ploughed or eroded away."



Folklore



The King Stone



"Numerous folktales are associated with the stones, including the tale that a king was riding across the county with his army when he was accosted by a local witch called Mother Shipton, who said to him: "Seven long strides thou shalt take, And if Long Compton thou canst see, King of England thou shalt be!" His troops gathered in a circle to discuss the challenge and his knights muttered amongst themselves– but the king boldy took seven steps forward. Rising ground blocked his view of Long Compton in the valley and the witch cackled:"As Long Compton thou canst not see, King of England thou shalt not be! Rise up stick and stand still stone, For King of England thou shalt be none; Thou and thy men hoar stones shall be, And I myself an elder tree!"



The king became the solitary King Stone, while nearby his soldiers formed a cromlech, or circle, called the King's Men. As the witch prepared to turn herself into an elder tree, she backtracked into four of the king's knights, who had lagged behind and were whispering plots against the king. She turned them to stone as well, and today they are called the Whispering Knights. Legend holds that at midnight, the stones come alive and return the king and his men back to flesh and bone that they can dance. Anyone who gazes upon their midnight glee either turns to stone or dies. According to 18th century lore, village maids would sneak out to the Whispering Knights on Midsummer's Eve and listen carefully, hoping to be whispered their future and fate. It is said that you cannot accurately count the stones and a different tally will result each time an attempt is made.The Kingstone was fenced off between the two World wars as conscripted troops would chip a slice of stone away to carry with them. Legend has it that this gives protection in battle.It is considered unlucky to touch the King's men."



Leaving the Chipping Norton area to Kelmscott, to see the Kelmscott Manor, unfortunately after finding my way to this very cute small village, the Manor is closed on Sunday's.



Kelmscott Manor is a limestone house in the Cotswold village of Kelmscott, Oxfordshire, England. The handsome manor house is situated close to the river Thames, and it is frequently flooded. It dates from around 1570, with a late 17th-century wing, and was the country home of the writer, designer and socialist William Morris from 1871 until his death in 1896. Today it is owned by the Society of Antiquaries of London, and is open to the public on Wednesdays during the summer. The nearest town is Faringdon in the Vale of the White Horse.



Off to Uffington to see the Vale of the White Horse.

Once again, finding the way proves to be more labourous than the attraction is worth. Below is what Wikipedia has to say about it.



"The Vale of White Horse is a local government district of Oxfordshire in England. The main town is Abingdon, other places include Faringdon and Wantage. There are 68 parishes within the district.It is a geographically distinct region, lying between the Berkshire Downs and the River Thames, named after the prehistoric Uffington White Horse. The district was formed on 1 April 1974, under the Local Government Act 1972, from the Municipal Borough of Abingdon, Wantage Urban District, Abingdon Rural District, Faringdon Rural District and part of the Wantage Rural District of Berkshire. The southern border of the district roughly approximates the Ridgeway Path. The area is often referred to as the ‘Vale of the White Horse’."



"It is the valley of the Ock, a stream which joins the Thames from the West at Abingdon. The Vale is almost flat and well-wooded; its green meadows and foliage contrasting richly with the bald summits of the White Horse Hills, which flank it on the south. The numerous elm trees, that once were a major feature of the Vale, were lost to Dutch Elm Disease. To the North, a low ridge separates it from the upper Thames Valley, holding back the soft Jurassic sedimentary deposits (Greensand, Gault and Kimmeridge Clay) behind a hard corallian limestone escarpment ridge, in what is technically a hanging valley; but local usage sometimes extends the vale to cover all the ground between the Cotswolds (on the north) and the White Horse Hills. According to the geographical definition, however, the Vale is from two to five miles wide, and the distance by road from Abingdon to Shrivenham at its head is 18 miles."



"Wantage is the only town in the heart of the Vale (although Faringdon, on the northwestern rim, is also a "Vale" town), lying in a sheltered hollow at the foot of the hills, along which, moreover, villages are more numerous than elsewhere in the vale. There are numerous springs emanating from the chalk hills, which allowed these settlements to thrive in former times."



"Towards the West, above Uffington, the hills reach a culminating point of 261 m (856 ft) in White Horse Hill. In its northern flank, just below the summit, a gigantic figure of a horse is cut, the turf being removed to show the white chalky soil beneath. This figure gives name to the hill, the range and the vale. It is 114 m (374 ft) long and highly stylised, the neck, body and tail varying little in wideth, the figure has been dated to the Bronze Age, many ancient remains occur in the vicinity of the Horse."



"On the summit of the hill there is an extensive and well preserved circular camp, apparently used by the Romans but of much earlier origin. It is an Iron Age hill fort. It is named Uffington Castle from the village in the vale below. Within a short distance are Hardwell Castle, a near-square work and, on the southern slope of the hills near Ashdown House, a small camp traditionally called Alfred's Castle."



"A smooth, steep gully on the north flank of White Horse Hill is called the Manger, and to the west of it rises a bald mound named Dragon Hill, the traditional scene of St George's victory over the dragon, the blood of which made the ground bare of grass for ever. But the name may derive from Celtic Pendragon ("dragon's head"), which was a title for a king, and may point to an early place of burial."



"To the West of White Horse Hill lies a long barrow called Wayland's Smithy, said to be the home of a smith who was never seen, but who shod the horses of travellers if they were left at the place with payment. The legend is elaborated, and the smith appears as a character, in Sir Walter Scott's novel Kenilworth, and in Rudyard Kipling's Puck of Pook's Hill. The Vale as a whole appears at the beginning of Tom Brown's Schooldays, as the scene of innocent Saxon boyhood adventures, before the eponymous hero is sent away to school at Rugby."



"The White Horse has been carefully cleared of vegetation from time to time. The figure has remained clear of turf throughout its long existence, except for being covered as a precaution during the Second World War. The cleaning process, known as the Scouring of the White Horse, was formerly made the occasion of a festival. Sports of all kinds were held, and keen rivalry was maintained, not only between the inhabitants of the local villages, but between local champions and those from distant parts of England. The first of such festivals known took place in 1755 and they died out only subsequently to 1857."



"A grassy track represents the Ridgeway, claimed as the oldest road in Europe, perhaps five thousand years old. It travels along the crest of the hills, far above what would then have been marshy lowlands or dangerous forests, continuing Icknield Street, from the Chilterns to the River Thames."



So after all this, I still hadn't eaten and I wanted to see the oldest bridge or the Thames river. I couldn't find it on the map but hoped if I headed toward Wantage I would find signs or be able to get directions to it.



I did eventually come to a bridge and there was a nice pub sitting beside it, I couldn't be certain it was the one I was looking for. I didn't stop, but regretted it soon after.



Decided to head to Reading. I was expecting a famous town in similar style to York. Reading couldn't be farther from York in appearence. I was very disappointed! Reading is dirty and run down. I eventually found a place to park and walked to McDonalds to eat. What a treat it was to eat at a fast food restaurtant after passing so many nicer options. After Reading I headed home, had an uneventful ride to the house. The total milage for the day was 227 miles, not too bad everything considered.