- Joined
- Jun 21, 2001
- Messages
- 1,453
- Location
- Berkshire, England
On Thursday evening I was invited for a little sojourn with a Husaberg dealer friend of mine and a few of his mates out into the beautiful west country. Just a couple of hours during the evening on some easy countryside. I haven't ridden properly for some time and I am far from riding fit, let alone race fit, but it would be a good nimble up, I was told :roll:
Hmmmm, my old 2001 FS650 had been sitting in the garage adorned with a fresh set of off-road wheels, and brand spankly new knobbly Michelin tyres for a while now just waiting for the opportunity to spit me off at some opportune moment (I wasn't aware this was their intention at the time).
I thought, what a wonderful opportunity to take advantage of the beautiful spring evening in rural Britain, this is the life.... 8)
We'd arranged to meet up around 6pm and I made my way over about 20 minutes early to grab a cuppa before setting out. The first thing to surprise me was how strange the bike felt with the oddly large (and skinny wheels). The sounds of the tyres on the tarmac was slightly disconcerting making the sound of an army jeep trundling along with a terminal and hypnotic zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
The gentle ride to our meeting place was the first sign of things to come. I seem to have developed this tendency on whatever the road I'm on. I obviously have no control over it whatsoever either :wink: . I just have to go as fast as possibly. And if this means full throttle 6th gear with offroad wheels it has to be done..........even if a bit wobbly and floaty, if you know what I mean - weird!
Anyway on this first short trip I began wondering whether my clutch was slipping - until, that is, I realised the clutch was fine, brand new in fact. It was just the tyres spinning up whenever I got past 3/4 throttle in almost every gear except 6th. Not a problem (famous last words).
Now, for those of you who are not familair with the supermotard thing, the rule goes a bit like this:
1. On tarmac you have lots of grip (generally speaking, that is, but for any pedantic people out there, we won't go into wet soaking and muddy tarmac or when it is -6C at an old airfiled circuit covered in ice and yer expected to race just for the sake of argument), and it is usually very predictable
2. On dirt you have no traction - yep, comparatively you have absolutely none because you're on tyre that has no knobbles on
Because in supermoto you expect zero grip on the dirt, it also means that when you open the throttle the back wheel normally spins and you know you can carry on pinning it until the jump because you just won't accelerate too much................
What sort of behaviour to expect from the knobblies on my 650, I didn't have a ******* clue Lamb to the slaugher you might say.
The second warning, that everyone else looked at me, my bike, back at me again saying "you're the motarder aren't you" with a great smirk on their face also went straight over my head.........
Off we go for the real ride, pottering along the country lanes to the point where we exit onto the dirt. Back wheel still preferring to spin its merry way to wherever we're going.
The first section we take offroad is a nice mellow down hill with fairly sound, dryish mud but as we get to the bottom I see that the world has decided to collect its entire annual rainfall in the middle of the track. A puddle about 8 feet wide and 5 bike lengths long.
Yes, I know, you can already picture it can't you?
Well, let me point out that for someone like me who chooses a sport where dirt is in the minority, this is a pretty scary thing to approach.
All the guys I'm riding with a very experienced enduro riders and lo and behold, they show me an escape route. They all head for this really narrow (about a tyre width) rutted little track on the banking. 2 of them cross over and I'm next.
As I come up to the rut I notice it's become a bit like a short whoops section. In my infinite off-road wisdom I decide it would be good to float the front wheel over them. Easy, just grab a little throttle and up come the front, oh and the entire bike rotates round the axis of the rear axle, totally hooking up in the clay mud, firing me straight up into the air and then crashing down, in an almost vertical stance a couple of feet later. However, unfortunately my trajectory is now leading me rapidly towards a vertical banking about 4 feet high. Oh **** comes to mind.
Luckily this banking thing is a bit softer than I though and instead of crushing me, it merely collects the bike which in turn spits me off, right in the direction of......you guessed it........the drink. Luckily for me, it turns out it was only a few inches deep, but that doesn't mean it was any less wet. Or smelly for that matter. Its location is in a valley between fields for grazing sheep, a horse stables and field for horses grazing. You're catching the smell of the drink now aren't you???????
Oh, and I'm covered in slippery slimy smelly clay-ish mud - YUM!
At what's the reaction I get? Sympathy? Pah! I stand up and look over to where the others are, especially the 2 following me to see streams of tears running down their cheeks. The first one hardly able to hold on to his bike apologising: "I'm sorry but that just looked so ******* hilarious" hahahahahaha............"I'm really glad I was riding behind you because otherwise I would have missed it"
We eventually get my bike re-started after it's laid upside down for a while and carry on our merry way. My mind feverishly trying to reverse the rules of grip (see above).
Now for those of you who don't know, the 650 is a beast to ride on dirt, pheweee!
On gravel it'll happily just spin up and spin up and spin up quarrying to bring from the depths below rocks and stone that haven't been seen for millenia. Oh, it also chews up and spits of extraneous rubber from the tyres........ This was my revenge to those that laughed - or that was the plan anyway
On looser and softer dirt, wow - just the slightest whiff of the throttle and I get this hard and cold horizontal bar crashing into my chin - is that really the handle bars? yeah that hurts too!
Ruts are for hard men, especially when it's very wet and slippery and muddy. I'll go round the long way thank you, I mean following a rut the depth of yer wheel axles for mile upon mile upon mile???? Glutten for punishment m'thinks!
I think I only fell off a couple more times during our soiree, drank only another couple of pints of Berkshire's best and managed to double the weight of the 650 in one fell swoop - yup, that was a rut I shouldn't have chosen.
And what did I learn? Well' first, look at the warning signs and make sure you understand them. Dirt is really weird - you stay on and get through dirt sections you really expect to crash in and then crash when you least expect. You get grip when you don't actually want it, yet when there's an emergency and you need it, the back wheel impersonates the london eye
Don't go riding with people who REALLY know what they're doing - it makes things look far too easy - like floating along through deep ruts doing 70mph, hopping and skipping between the best ones. It makes you think you can do it too - well, actually, I learnt I can, just not for long :wink: :wink: :wink:
Then we get to tight woods - er, and I won't even go there. Then there's wide open grass planes top gear full throttle - oh dear!
You enduro types, well yer all fookin' mad!
But I'm sure I want much much more of your nectar because does it half make things fun.
And mucho thanks to Gary for his endless patience - and untiring left leg for untold restarts!!!!
Simon
PS Apart from my limbs now hanging limp due to muscle failure, I am still in one piece, I'm sure you're glad to hear :wink:
Hmmmm, my old 2001 FS650 had been sitting in the garage adorned with a fresh set of off-road wheels, and brand spankly new knobbly Michelin tyres for a while now just waiting for the opportunity to spit me off at some opportune moment (I wasn't aware this was their intention at the time).
I thought, what a wonderful opportunity to take advantage of the beautiful spring evening in rural Britain, this is the life.... 8)
We'd arranged to meet up around 6pm and I made my way over about 20 minutes early to grab a cuppa before setting out. The first thing to surprise me was how strange the bike felt with the oddly large (and skinny wheels). The sounds of the tyres on the tarmac was slightly disconcerting making the sound of an army jeep trundling along with a terminal and hypnotic zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
The gentle ride to our meeting place was the first sign of things to come. I seem to have developed this tendency on whatever the road I'm on. I obviously have no control over it whatsoever either :wink: . I just have to go as fast as possibly. And if this means full throttle 6th gear with offroad wheels it has to be done..........even if a bit wobbly and floaty, if you know what I mean - weird!
Anyway on this first short trip I began wondering whether my clutch was slipping - until, that is, I realised the clutch was fine, brand new in fact. It was just the tyres spinning up whenever I got past 3/4 throttle in almost every gear except 6th. Not a problem (famous last words).
Now, for those of you who are not familair with the supermotard thing, the rule goes a bit like this:
1. On tarmac you have lots of grip (generally speaking, that is, but for any pedantic people out there, we won't go into wet soaking and muddy tarmac or when it is -6C at an old airfiled circuit covered in ice and yer expected to race just for the sake of argument), and it is usually very predictable
2. On dirt you have no traction - yep, comparatively you have absolutely none because you're on tyre that has no knobbles on
Because in supermoto you expect zero grip on the dirt, it also means that when you open the throttle the back wheel normally spins and you know you can carry on pinning it until the jump because you just won't accelerate too much................
What sort of behaviour to expect from the knobblies on my 650, I didn't have a ******* clue
Lamb to the slaugher you might say.The second warning, that everyone else looked at me, my bike, back at me again saying "you're the motarder aren't you" with a great smirk on their face also went straight over my head.........
Off we go for the real ride, pottering along the country lanes to the point where we exit onto the dirt. Back wheel still preferring to spin its merry way to wherever we're going.
The first section we take offroad is a nice mellow down hill with fairly sound, dryish mud but as we get to the bottom I see that the world has decided to collect its entire annual rainfall in the middle of the track. A puddle about 8 feet wide and 5 bike lengths long.
Yes, I know, you can already picture it can't you?
Well, let me point out that for someone like me who chooses a sport where dirt is in the minority, this is a pretty scary thing to approach.
All the guys I'm riding with a very experienced enduro riders and lo and behold, they show me an escape route. They all head for this really narrow (about a tyre width) rutted little track on the banking. 2 of them cross over and I'm next.
As I come up to the rut I notice it's become a bit like a short whoops section. In my infinite off-road wisdom I decide it would be good to float the front wheel over them. Easy, just grab a little throttle and up come the front, oh and the entire bike rotates round the axis of the rear axle, totally hooking up in the clay mud, firing me straight up into the air and then crashing down, in an almost vertical stance a couple of feet later. However, unfortunately my trajectory is now leading me rapidly towards a vertical banking about 4 feet high. Oh **** comes to mind.
Luckily this banking thing is a bit softer than I though and instead of crushing me, it merely collects the bike which in turn spits me off, right in the direction of......you guessed it........the drink. Luckily for me, it turns out it was only a few inches deep, but that doesn't mean it was any less wet. Or smelly for that matter. Its location is in a valley between fields for grazing sheep, a horse stables and field for horses grazing. You're catching the smell of the drink now aren't you???????
Oh, and I'm covered in slippery slimy smelly clay-ish mud - YUM!
At what's the reaction I get? Sympathy? Pah! I stand up and look over to where the others are, especially the 2 following me to see streams of tears running down their cheeks. The first one hardly able to hold on to his bike apologising: "I'm sorry but that just looked so ******* hilarious" hahahahahaha............"I'm really glad I was riding behind you because otherwise I would have missed it"
We eventually get my bike re-started after it's laid upside down for a while and carry on our merry way. My mind feverishly trying to reverse the rules of grip (see above).
Now for those of you who don't know, the 650 is a beast to ride on dirt, pheweee!
On gravel it'll happily just spin up and spin up and spin up quarrying to bring from the depths below rocks and stone that haven't been seen for millenia. Oh, it also chews up and spits of extraneous rubber from the tyres........ This was my revenge to those that laughed - or that was the plan anyway
On looser and softer dirt, wow - just the slightest whiff of the throttle and I get this hard and cold horizontal bar crashing into my chin - is that really the handle bars? yeah that hurts too!
Ruts are for hard men, especially when it's very wet and slippery and muddy. I'll go round the long way thank you, I mean following a rut the depth of yer wheel axles for mile upon mile upon mile???? Glutten for punishment m'thinks!
I think I only fell off a couple more times during our soiree, drank only another couple of pints of Berkshire's best and managed to double the weight of the 650 in one fell swoop - yup, that was a rut I shouldn't have chosen.
And what did I learn? Well' first, look at the warning signs and make sure you understand them. Dirt is really weird - you stay on and get through dirt sections you really expect to crash in and then crash when you least expect. You get grip when you don't actually want it, yet when there's an emergency and you need it, the back wheel impersonates the london eye
Don't go riding with people who REALLY know what they're doing - it makes things look far too easy - like floating along through deep ruts doing 70mph, hopping and skipping between the best ones. It makes you think you can do it too - well, actually, I learnt I can, just not for long :wink: :wink: :wink:
Then we get to tight woods - er, and I won't even go there. Then there's wide open grass planes top gear full throttle - oh dear!
You enduro types, well yer all fookin' mad!
But I'm sure I want much much more of your nectar because does it half make things fun.
And mucho thanks to Gary for his endless patience - and untiring left leg for untold restarts!!!!
Simon
PS Apart from my limbs now hanging limp due to muscle failure, I am still in one piece, I'm sure you're glad to hear :wink:
