Archives: June

Wednesday, June 13th

Out of the smoke

I've been in London for about 30 hours. I've had a good time paying a long overdue visit to an old friend. But now it's time to get out. I say my goodbyes, fire up the bike, turn out of Imperial College, up Exhibition Road and into Hyde Park...and hit the traffic queue.

I'm overdressed for the occasion. Limited luggage space means I am wearing most of my clothes under textile kit, and it's hot. Onto the Edgware road and I can already feel the heat of the engine on my legs. I'm filtering but the gaps just aren't there as cars get stuck mid lane change. I have half an eye on the temperature gauge and everything else focused on where the next car is coming from. Red lights are welcomed as an opportunity to leapfrog a few more cars - and when the lights change it's 100 yards of fresh air to force through the radiator and into my visor.

The pizza 'ped catches me napping. I have him on acceleration, but he has slightly less regard for speed limits, bus lanes and his own life. We're still level as I turn off towards the start of the M1.

I make it a few junctions up before the traffic builds up again. Back to filtering for mile after mile. Another bike appears in front of me - it's Goldwing Man, scourge of filtering bikes everywhere. He's filtering as fast as his mighty girth will let him, but i'm quicker, and because he's concentrating on not clipping mirrors with his panniers, he isn't looking in the mirrors. I switch to the gap between lanes 1 and 2 to get past.

I reach the cause of the traffic - they are resurfacing the motorway, and the northbound traffic splits, with lane 3 becoming contraflow. It looks quicker so I make a snap decision to follow it. Wrong. Never, Ever take the single lane. Ever. It grinds to a halt and there's nowhere to filter. Or is there? I take to the concrete between the traffic and the central reservation. It keeps me moving but I don't dare go too fast. I see Goldwing Man pass me on the other side.

Finally the roadworks end. There's not many trucks on the road and everyone's trying to make up time, so just keeping up with the traffic flow becomes licence endangering. This isn't much fun, and feels like a waste of tyres on an agile 400. I've had enough.

Just past leicester I escape onto the backroads. I don't know exactly where I am going, nor do I really care. I'm keeping the setting sun on my left and aiming for villages I vaguely remember as being in the right direction. I cross the motorway once, twice, three-four-five times.

All of a sudden it all clicks into place. A familiar junction approached from an unfamiliar direction. I've still got about ten miles to go, but in a sense I'm already home, following a track I've practised a dozen times back to my front door.

I actually wrote this about three weeks ago, straight after the trip it refers to, and never got round to posting it up. Better late than never eh?

posted by David @ 08:08 AM [link]No Comments