photo taken at mudeford quay - southampton way - thanks for your comments
yes motad pipe
bike saved my bacon on the run up to retirement, see item below
The scrap heap isn't so bad
A few years ago, what had been a rewarding job started to go pear-shaped. The bosses introduced an agenda for change with different ways of working to counter an adverse financial climate. These involved a paperless office, cloud technology, smart desks, hot desking, an open plan office, work stations close together in ranks and nothing over 1.2m high. Combined with new style micro-management I felt I had become an automaton, there to obey orders in accordance with strict procedures. Beforehand, it was less rigid, there was some autonomy, discretion, discussion and a pleasanter atmosphere. A tale of woe? Not quite, as Ogri once observed 'you've still got your bike' …in my case this was a now 25 year old Yamaha XJ 600 F Pre Diversion. Rather than spend the weekend dreading yet more corporate directives, prescriptive routines and retraining sessions I was able to get out and about.
What is it about motorbikes that makes you forget your troubles? It doesn't have to be riding either; tinkering, cleaning and maintaining bikes can be relaxing too. I went to places that I wouldn't bother with by car; the thought of a long tedious journey in a motor with parking problems at the other end leaves me cold. However, going by bike is a different proposition, you can lean a bike and it can be exhilarating as opposed to being cocooned in metal and glass. I wouldn't be surprised if there were others like me. After all biking is like being in another world, a place where you can be at peace as well as having fun zipping along and testing your skill through corners.
Having found my stress busting friend I thought to use it as my transport to work but this didn't go down well as there was soon a complaint about me taking off my overtrousers by the desk I had booked. Thereafter I found that my helmet was viewed as an inappropriate item in the new office. I detected a kind of puzzled distaste from younger women, almost all being from privileged backgrounds, unable to understand why one wouldn't travel in a car. I was given a locker and told to use the cyclists changing area but I never saw a cyclist there. I think the facility was provided as part of the politically correct arrangements to ensure that the organisation achieved “Investors in People” or IIP status (Ed ~ or Idiots in Purgatory as it’s sometimes know).
I went miles, from our home near Oxford there were trips to East Anglia, coastal resorts in Kent and Sussex, down to Devon and both within and across Wales. I tried to accomplish these without having to stay away from home by starting early, arriving back late, early the next morning or even riding through the night if temperatures allowed. One had to be careful to take spare fuel when in Wales as filling stations could close just like the shops do. Realising that I couldn't get down to the bottom of Cornwall in one hit I arranged a B & B but neglected to check the place out as I ended up in a front room with a street light outside the window on a busy road with a late night bar nearby.
What a shame we bikers can't have the roads to ourselves, a pity that we must share the highway with other vehicles that spill diesel and generally make a nuisance of themselves. Occasionally I would find a vehicle close on my tail. Seeking respite rather than retribution I found the best method was to stop for a short break and let them go. There is usually a benefit in this, a chance to tuck in a loose scarf or some other minor adjustment. This didn't happen often and only usually in the wider vicinity of London. I am not an exceptionally slow rider and I am sure that you will have experienced the same type of four wheel driver that doesn’t believe in leaving safe distance. No doubt these are tense individuals late for an important meeting.
One Monday, having attended a Risk Management session there was a restructuring debrief where I learned that my section was to be downsized, they could do the work with less staff. That was that and I was left to contemplate life on the scrap heap. It was a shock financially but at the same time something of a relief to be honest. Now it was a question of working out the notice period and seeing how the reduced income panned out but in the meantime I continued with the bike outings to take my mind off the situation.
OK these old Yams are a tad on the heavy side and their appearance is distinctly dated with the square headlight and 80's graphics. On the other hand they are frugal, comfortable and reliable; I had no problems other than a puncture. The valves hardly seem to require adjustment and it is a straightforward air cooled carburetor arrangement without complexity to confound a dumb rider. These days they aren't expensive either; I bought another as spares, it was £200 which immediately repaid itself as I reused the stainless steel exhaust system on my bike.
It is nice to have a centre stand, a good fairing and a twin bulb rear lamp, I like the assured way that it handles bends, not withstanding the narrow tyres, and it's stable, planted feel on the road. The Pre Diversion is less revvy than the Diversion, it plods along in an amiable kind of way but comes alive when you need more power. I particularly like the way the passenger and the riders foot pegs are set near each other, not too near, but just right for the rider to rest a boot on both once on the move.
Sometimes I'd meet men on these rides who would say that they had once owned similar bikes, although it usually turned out it was the bigger 900 model that they had. One biker, hearing that I was being made redundant, said “well at least you will be able to buy a decent motorcycle with the money”. I think he meant well, and yes I know that there are lighter, faster and flashier machines, but I like the bike that I've got. I also came across a couple of bewildered guys who had recently retired, they seemed like fish out of water being hauled around by their other halves in a kind of daze. It makes you determined not to be like that yourself and see being on the scrap heap as an opportunity to enjoy yourself again.
I am grateful to the Yamaha which got me through those last years at work and which saved me from seeking calming medication. I haven't used the bike much of late but recently heaved it out of the garage and down to my mechanic friend's business unit for a well-deserved refurbishment with a view to reviving my touring adventures. Thank you Genichi Kawakami for developing these motorcycle models and especially the XJ600F which suits a scrap-heap type me to a tee.
Still with us 20 years later, but thankfully not driving!
