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Wales Ride Out 16 June 2007 Chris Barrable, 16 June 2007

[See the pictures]

Four of us went out - young Chris (CRF250), Mack (DRZ), Joseph (WR450) meeting at the Chepstow lay-by at 9am. It was pissing down on the way there but miraculously the weather cleared once into Wales - shock !!
The morning was packed with plenty of seriously vegetative green lanes - Quite surreal to be riding through grass, bushes, branches & the odd nettle) without being able to see anything past the handlebars - a drawback of being at the front I guess !
Route was along some old county roads from Shirenewton towards Usk past the golf course. Golden Hill proved a little tricky off line as Chris found out. Joseph had to bail out as the mind warping, tunnel effect green lanes were doing him in. And he lost his goggles - not good when freefalling through vegetation.


We carried on after a break in Pontypool where I had a failed attempt up the rocky-rutted hill at Penyrheol. We abandoned that idea & went up the side track past eh mountain bikes - how soul destroying to pedal over those boulders !
Down a nice lane to Crumlin then north to Aberbeeg & up over the top of Blaina where we rode the slag by Nantyglo golf course. We agreed that slag riding was ace fun. (!)
We moved on before the golfers got jealous of our fun & called the plod. We met another TRF member who was out solo & lived locally. He said the police were having serious purges in the area & that Sundays are best avoided. We rode some nice roads near Govilon then started to head back.


The rain came in with a bit of vengeance for a while, but not so much to trouble us. Macks DRZ sprung a coolant leak where the hose runs close to the exhaust - Ahh no, cant be true ... a DRZ with a problem ... aaahh, bring me the smelling salts...
We edged back off the mountain where we found a nice little pub for a refreshing ale. From then Mack decided to road it back home while Chris & I continued through the Wenwood forest for a few last minute mud, water & tree scenery.


Mileage was 120m round trip, 1 petrol/pie stop, one leaking water hose & one very lucky back tyre.

Chris Barrable

Freezing Mist Gaffaman, 20 Nov 2005

[See the pictures]

Ostensibly the day was to check out a couple of lanes so that I could accurately describe them in my report for claiming, but with a few more unknown ones in nearby Wiltshire thrown in to fill out the day. The jousters were; (I don’t-fall-off-on-ice)Tony Jenkins, (I-cant see-through-iced-up glasses) Dave Arndell, (ouch-my-shoulder) James Sandercock & myself (don’t-slow-down-for-ice)Gaffaman.
Setting off from my house, or was it the garage delayed our start by about half an hour, which given the sub zero mist that day made those standing around at the petrol station a little chilled in the extremities. Sorry chaps! Off to the first lane near Iron Acton, we lost Dave within 2 miles! Mostly due to traffic lights and the fact that visibility was down to about 50yds & far less if you had goggles on. Think Dave with glasses & goggles. He probably couldn’t see more than about 20yds!

First lane was abandoned as it has a deep ford at the end & we didn’t fancy getting a boot-full of ice water so early on. So first lane actually was the nice & easy RUPP at Engine Common Lane just north of Yate. It resembles a bridle path & is a very "pretty" lane. The freezing conditions meant that the hoof prints & broken surface was actually quite hard under the tyres giving them plenty of grip but you could just feel them breaking through to the soft stuff underneath. I expect it’s quite muddy in warmer weather. Next was the almost tarmac like RUPP of Oldwood Lane. Jim says he's been on that shortcut a few times on his road-traily a few times. A very easy lane & very pretty in these frozen winter conditions. Photos taken so that there is scale to the claim I will be submitting, onward we went.

Next up was Bury Hill near Yate Rocks which is a bit overgrown even with all the leaves off. Must be a nightmare to get past in spring when all the brambles are in full growth! This was the last of the Sth Glos RUPPS I know of so I can now say I have done all of them!.

Next we took a route past some woods which again was extremely "pretty". The lane starts skirting a wood & then becomes a tar road. That’s where we decided that tarmac is more dangerous than mud. While mud might be slippery, slimy, squirmy or any other word beginning with S and ending in Y, tarmac is either grippy or, well not grippy.

ICE looks wet. First my back wheel tried to pass me on the left, then it seemed to straighten up before passing me successfully on my right. You might be familiar with the sensation. It’s all in slow motion except for the bit where you actually fall off. One minute you’re controlling (!) the bike in Matrix style ultra slow-mo, the next you’re sliding down the road, also in ultra slow-mo. Then it all speeds back up to Benny Hill tempo as you remember there is someone right behind you without the ability to change speed or direction. James fortunately for me had gallantly dumped his bike when he saw me kissing tera firma so he wouldn’t collide. Ahh that’s nice. Then Tony came round the corner, and while we gesticulated at him that the two bikes in the road were not put there by our choice, he simply ignored us, rode on the grassy bit, swiping off Jims tail piece in the most self centred display of I alright Jack I seen. Only joking Ant! Tail end Dave, who probably couldn’t see anything anyway seemed just to stop in the bushes. I’m sure he said he stopped there because he saw us but I have my doubts...

With a bruised shoulder and a bungeed on tail piece, James was the day's damaged goods.

There is the "prettiest" lane we've ever ridden coming into Horton down a sheep strewn track, with the sun breaking through the freezing fog and tyres breaking through the frozen puddles. Fantastic. The vicar didn’t seem too impressed, but I reckon it was because no one was going to his church that Sunday morning.

A little known path near Hawksbury followed by lovely long wooded track, a motorway bridge & all the way down to Marshfield.

As we'd got higher above the Cotswold escarpment, we came out of the mist from time to time & it was great to be in the relative warmth looking into the mist shrouded valleys. My overmitts, panniers with flask of tea & provisions may have been of amusement to some but they keep the smile on my face when others are bemoaning the cold. Ha!

Star farm byway is a great track with a rocky stream running down the bottom third. Good. Next up was some gently undulating tree-lined tracks. A lady with too much make up (for a Sunday morning dog walk) warned us of some horses ahead so we paused for a while. Jimbo giving us advanced warning of an imminent departure home.

Next was some experimental lanes east of Colerne where we came across a statuette of what we think may be Britannia of maybe one of the Greek goddesses (Minerva ?). The track is shown as BOAT on my map but it peters out in a field & being good citizens (at the moment) we turned back. Bit more experimenting with tracks then down one signposted as Unsuitable for Motors.

We met a large (10-15) bunch of walkers coming the other way fortunately at the wide bit. They were civil & smiling. I wonder if they really were pleasant or will they be writing to their local busybody groups with tails of mad moto-cross bikes tearing up my countryside. I mentioned that it was a "proper road" to one bloke & he seemed in agreement. It was a great road for us with a good mix of small rocks, tree roots & low branches that supply the game of do I look a the ground or the branches ?

Out onto the A4 Bath road near Box, James had to scram while Dave, Tony & I decided to do a few more on the way back to Bristol.

We did one linking up to the Fosse Way just east of Batheaston then on to Marshfield where we tried out some historic lanes now marked as bridlepath but know to be historical roads. And I deny any knowledge of them m'lud.

Then on down Hall Lane, Hamswell, Grandmothers Rocks up the A420 then down Toghill Lane, across Redford Lane then up the lanes past Ring O Bells farm to Westerleigh. Tony went home & Dave & I did the last lane of the day Broad Lane at Westerleigh.

All these last lanes are well known but are currently classified as RUPP & therefore likely to be downgraded with the approval of the government’s acceptance of the NERC bill (Natural Environmental and Rural Communities) which is being read on the 21 November. If passed we lose all of them! Get writing to you MP complaining.

Remember they are fickle creatures & respond to numbers. That’s what keeps them in a job. Numbers of voters. If they think everyone is against them they will try to do something about it.

Reasoned, accurate & well informed arguments that law abiding, respectable and honest members of the TRF as well as other motoring groups have failed to achieve what inaccurate, lying, misinformed lobbyists have.

So, if you can’t get what you want by respectable means, why not try their tactics. Bombard your MP with everything & anything you can dream up in favour of our hobby. Don’t be afraid of telling lies, they all do it...

Find your MP name & address from your library, Yellow Pages, Thompson’s etc. Even the local Women’s Institute write bloody letters complaining about the colour of people’s garden furniture for Christ’s sake! (local parish news makes for some appalling reading. I appologise for owning up to having read it from time to time)

N.B - I completely & utterly do not encourage anyone to use illegal or any other bad paractises in the pursuit of their hobby.

--
Gaffaman
20 Nov 2005

First Date/Virgin on the Ridiculous James Sandercock, 8 Oct 2002

Mmmmm... As sleep drifted over me like a two-stroke haze, I could taste the lager and Mexican attempting to make a come back, just prior to my own. My thoughts were well and truly on the next day's event.

After a couple of visits (finally) to Bristol's TRF punctuated with foot and mouth and the untimely removal of my XT 350 from outside my house, I was finally ready to take the plunge. Armed with my 98 KDX 200 (£700) and a wardrobe worth at least as much (victim) a few hours in the lanes around the fair city of Bristol and over a decade mountain biking both sides of the pond on my side I felt it was time...

First things first. I had to find an event to herald my triumphant return to the giddy highs and gutorial lows of competition. Once again the TRF did me good service and Jack Sringer from the Phoenix MCC informed me of an event they were running; trials format in the morning, enduro in the afternoon. Cheap to enter, with the emphasis on fun... Excellent. My plan began to take shape. A quick call to my old partner in crime, Mr. Power, who thanks to being based in London, three kids, and a hectic work schedule had had a dirt-free diet for some time, I knew he would be gagging for the excuse to get his 2000 Berg out from under the covers... So far so good.

Four days to go and due to various reasons beyond my control (universal excuse for anything and everything) it occurred to me it might be a good idea to take a look at my beast of burden, which for safety reasons is stored at a top secret location, which if I were to tell you I would have to kill you (which would take far too long, bar weapons of mass destruction which are nothing but trouble these days). The sight which greeted my eyes was not the race ready green meany I had envisaged but a rust tinged, dirt covered, let's not beat around the bush here, neglected snot bike (girl friend's name for my pride and joy). Oh dear! Time to get to work... Eight hours later and a few trips to Sir Nigel of Meredith's Motor-X, I felt like Michael Jackson's Plastic Surgeon - I'd put a lot of work in but I didn't know if it looked any better. My plan was closer to fruition.

Saturday the28th , blue skies and bright sun heralded the arrival of R Power, Ford Galaxy, and one Burger mounted to the back. At first glance his maintenance schedule seemed much the same as my own, though I was assured it was just cosmetic and I had quite enough of my own to worry about already. What could he mean? To the lanes... Four hours later we returned to HQ , big smiles locked on our faces. The going was good , and barring a monsoon/act of God it would be for the big day. Time for a few last minute checks (opportunity to look at our bikes on track stands and drink cold beer in the sun)... Goddammit life is good!

Sunday the 29th. So this was the plan - 6 am rise, as much caffeine as it is humanly possible to consume, pack the Galaxy, load the Berg, eat (yeah right), and off we go. Cool collected and, of course, organized. My other car is an Africa Twin, so I was riding. Ru would follow, no problem. The reality, all power to Mr. P was working his plan. I , on the other hand , in my infinite wisdom had made the tactical decision to continue drinking, and at 7 am my eyelids appeared to be stuck to my top lip. Once I had prised them apart I moved immediately to caffeine consumption. Things seemed to be on the up. OK packed my gear (oil and fuel). Due to my superior intellect I had strategically placed them in different locations and seemed to be having trouble with their whereabouts (don't let on, fake calm). After 45 minutes of controlled panic we were ready to go, me plonked on my Kwacker at what seemed like a curiously cool time of day and Mr. Power in the warmth of his family wagon... Destination dirty fun.

As we traveled through the eerily quiet city streets and into the countryside once again I noted the uncommonly cool temperature seemed to be dropping further still, and on we went along the A38 up to Bristol Airport, and into what can only be described as pea soup. At this point the daylight MOT I had opted for did not seem like one of the greatest ideas I had ever had. And as a cloaking device, which I had never realized, my bike possessed kicked in... Thoughts to rectify the lighting situation if I made it across the Mendip Hills danced around my now cryogenically frozen head.

Needless to say, we arrived none the worse for wear and found ourselves atop the Mendips, and with the sun fighting its way off the ropes the mist began to recede and we weren't far off being in dirt-bike heaven. With Blagdon Lake to our left and Chew Valley to our right the surrounding countryside began to open up, and the full splendor of our location became apparent. Clutching my thermos I began to thaw out and anticipation seeped into the bits of me which I could feel.

Being a couple of keen greens we were all but first to arrive so it was up to the Phoenix HQ to sign in and pick up our breath takingly beautiful green bibs... No. 6 lucky for some, and of course it would be set off perfectly against my silky black shift number. Off to scrutineering.With the loving care I poured in to my beloved only days earlier surely she could not fail, and with a strum of the spokes she sailed through and was wheeled off to some seemingly random bit of field to wait on her own. With the smell of bacon wafting from the caravan of power I wandered back to the Galaxy where my pro-biotic, fat-free raspberry flavoured yoghurt awaited.

By 10 o'clock the sun had won the battle for supremacy of the sky and was getting up a good head of steam. Our numbers had swelled to the full quota of 58 and my KDX had an assortment of low tech high-fi machines for company. As we were called to our riders' meeting, all in our maganificent green plastic vests, I felt the weekend warrior feeling creeping over me and was ready to step into the fray.

Four laps in your own time. Eight observed sections. Half through wood single track (very nice) and some fast wiggerly field work (not too technical for you I hope). And off I went onto the first obstacle - zigzagged planks...clean, and down to the woods. From this point onwards the obstacles were well spaced out and of varying difficulties, challenging and fun but never overwhelming. Beginners and experts mixed up. As the laps went by the lines became apparent as did the best way to get my fiery little 200 through each section (and as Mark Williams mentioned in the last issue). Arse on the seat, feather the clutch, and blip the throttle, slow and controlled. By the gods of Granny Gears it worked and as I finished my fourth lap I was quite chuffed with my performance and looking forward to the afternoon's session where the KDX could really let its hair down.

Back at the Galaxy I found myself staring lovingly at my placky bag full of goodies, locked out and the key somewhere out on the course in the pocket of one R. Power. One half of your English hours later he crested the hill on foot... Oh dear! One Berg had gone downside up and flooding had commenced. By now you may have realized that the technical knowledge of the two of us combined could fit on the back of a Rizla. This could have proved to have been an insurmountable problem bar the fact that our fellow competitors seemed just as keen to get the Swedish beauty rolling as we were. After a top notch tip and some well-needed sustenance our hero returned to the non-lecky start stroker and recommenced the right let workout. But no sooner was he out of sight than he reappeared upon said bike coughing and spluttering up the hill. Still not good but by now we had quite a crowd.

"Drain the carb"
"OK"
"Take out that screw"
"OK"
"Turn off the fuel first!"
"OK"

Bingo the Berg was back in business (thanks for the help guys - you know who you are) and not a moment too soon. It was time to don the armour and let the battle commence. Lucky No.6 to the front of the queue. Two riders off every ten seconds, and I was away. For the first time I really found out what my green machine was capable of and I liked it... a lot.

Same course less two sections. As many laps you could do in an hour. As I began to get to grips with the course at speed and the confidence in my steed grew I began to pick up the pace. I was not acing all the sections but I didn't care. I was loving life, breathing dust, eating flies, and hauling arse. The wind was whipping through my jersey and there was traction galore... Hold on, how the hell was the wind whipping through my strictly low-tech, non wicking,. non-breathable plastic ID bib. Simple answer, it was not. Lucky number 6 bib was back in the Galaxy where I had unceremoniously dumped it in an attempt to bring my body temperature down to somewhere near normal after the morning's antics. No sooner had this registered than the cries began-

"What's your number and where's your bib?"
"Number 6, I'm number 6".

I cried in desperation. All of a sudden panic stricken thoughts of disqualification began to jump around inside my head. I had really been trying. I thought I had done really well for my first outing. How could I face my mates? I had triumphantly announced my return to competition with much glee and more than a little gusto. How could I live with the shame? Ace snapper, leak boy A.K.A. Steven Lewis, who had agreed to come down and document this auspicious occasion, would never let me live this one down. These thoughts managed to stampede into my consciousness simultaneously. But with a simple OK from the marshal they disappeared just as quickly as my temporary sixth place had done. These Phoenix guys were too chilled for that and you can bet your Gortex socks I won't do that again. And so with Captain Paranoia well and truly blasted off my shoulder on I went through the occasional Saharan sandstorm (it was dry!) ; diving in and out of the woods; feathering, blipping and blasting my way through to eight laps. A "well done" and a smile from the marshal felt like an Olympic gold to me. I had completed, competed and finished my first event. Back at the Galaxy Mr. P's Berg had risen like a Phoenix from the ashes and he had piloted it to six laps.

In the warmth of the afternoon sun the convesation began to flow and a relaxed atmosphere permeated all as it drifted across the hillside... Goddamn life is good.

So it only remains to say respect to the Phoenix massive. I think I speak for all, what a great day out. And for all those of you who are thinking of taking the plunge - go on you won't regret it, not one little bit. And as for me I'm going to buy a cheap old van and bring it on!!

--
James Sandercock, 8 Oct 2002

address: 54 Dongola RD., Bishopston, Bristol, BS7 9HP.
mobile: 0771 420 0483
email: james@sanpix.com

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KDX 220 Vs. DRZ400E Tony Steel

Being lucky enough to own both of these bikes at the same time I have been asked a few times what I think. I have now had them about a year now and have ridden both on the trail and the KDX has also been given an airing at the Fast Eddy enduro at Matchams.

The KDX was new and DRZ was bought secondhand with supposedly only 5 enduro's under it's belt and still felt quite tight (read low mileage).

Both have been 100% reliable with no major problems to report.

First off I'll talk about the KDX. The bike comes with a 6 month parts warranty which is pretty good for a pure off roader and membership of the Kawasaki off road club which gives you chance to try a few training days etc. The big problem is that the bike is not road legal and firstly it needed to be registered which the dealer did for me (they needed pushing after being reluctant to begin with). After that I needed to get the bike roadworthy. I bought a kit for approx £135 which included a modified loom, a switch unit and horn, hi/lo bulb, and a handlebar brake light switch for the headlight. I thought it was quite poor value for what you get but then it is the knowledge your also paying for. Next a number plate and cable drive speedo (£22) went on there and I was ready to go. I also stripped all the linkages and bearings and regreased and coppaslipped everything coz I'm sad. After running it in I was off out on the trail. After the CRM 250 I had before I found it shorter, lighter and quite snappy. It was quite low geared so the gearbox needs a bit of work. On the road it is not a patch on a CRM with less power and it's not as smooth (screaming at 50mph) but off road things are much better. It can be chucked around very easily compared to the CRM or DRZ and was great fun at the Fast Eddy where weight is your enemy. It also has a decent tank range which means you don't have to stop as much as the crosser boys to refuel. The chassis is very forgiving and the seat quite soft. The suspension feels a little soft at the front end (compared to a KTM200). The brakes are also good (Nissin). The premix is a pain but I carry small 125ml tubes with 2 stroke which fit in my bumbag fine... just don't forget to put it in!! I've also fitted high bend TAG bars, which have made it much easier to ride for my big frame. I bought it mainly on the back of its bullet-proof reputation and the fact there are not many 2 strokes left to choose from. KTM200's w ere too pricey and the GAS GAS EC200 reliability reputation left something to be desired (seems to be getting better now).

The DRZ is the electric start enduro model and was bought to do the Stella Alpina rally last year for which it performed faultlessly. The KDX would have been hard work on the tarmac sections. The monster engine (for a 400) and a good, well balanced chassis meant it was great on MT21's for hairpins on tarmac and dry trails off it. It also has very good suspension. Yet again a pair of TAG bars raised things up for me and gives a lovely riding position when standing. The bike needed some work to legalise it again. As it has a battery, getting a 12V supply is not a problem so I sorted out a wiring diagram myself and got the bits in myself, and so far it all works fine. I had a pipe insert made (nice one Tony Webb) to quieten the outrageous standard pipe and it works well on standard jetting. If your thinking of getting an aftermarket pipe be very careful. The vast majority are still too bloody loud. So after all this glowing praise why do I find I have problem with it. Weight is the answer, and to me it is a big answer. After coming back from holiday and riding onto some greasy chalk downs in good old Blighty. The bike felt heavy and the whole thing was hard work. It did not take long to drop it and there was the second problem. The radiator on the felled side was 90 degrees bent round from the top end. Luckily it did not split and I managed to go on. Things improved after sticking a Michelin Comp 4 on the front. At least with good rubber you have a chance of grip in poor conditions. So ultimately what I am saying is if you want to do a few competitions along with your trail riding choose something light like the KDX. If you just trail ride the 400 is a good all rounder but a little porky in muddy conditions (50% of all rides?), don't underestimate the electric button on the DRZ, it is a godsend when your stuck in the gloop or have turned it upside down. Or maybe just look for the newest low mileage Honda CRM250 you can... In my opinion still the king all rounder.

--
Tony Steel

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