NetNews Usenet Archive 1992 #27/NN_1992_27.iso/spool/rec/motorcyc/39987

Text File | 1992-11-20 | 8.3 KB | 149 lines

Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles
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From: [e-mail] (John A. Gazzaniga  (Sverdrup))
Subject: The DoD at the Arctic Circle:  Title II
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Sender: [e-mail] (John Gazzaniga  (Sverdrup))
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Date: 21 Nov 1992 04:03 EST
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     Greetings DoDer's and non-DoDer's alike.  This is the second
part of my European Trip report.  My last post ended with my GPz 750
(now called "Gee-pee-zed" 750 :-) ) successfully shipped to London,
Gatwick and with me prepared to head North to my sister's place in
East Anglia.

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     The day (Sept. 20th) looked great for riding.  It was sunny with
mild temperatures.  My first stop on the way out of Gatwick was at a
nearby service station where I could top off the tank.  After doing
this and giving the bike the once over (again), including checking the
tyre (tire) pressures, I was out and away.  I had some concern about the
handling of the GPz as not only was I loaded down with more than 100 lbs.
(~45 kg.) of luggage but I did not have the time before the motorcycle
was shipped off to check the tightness of the steering head bearings,
something not done since the rebuild, about 1500 mi. (2400 km.) earlier.

     Well, the first roundabout (rotary) taken at a moderate clip con-
firmed my suspicions about handling as the GPz wallowed about quite a
bit.  This effect became more pronounced the longer and harder the turn
was taken.  At least it was manageable, although disappointing.  At higher
speeds on the motorway though, the GPz handled acceptably.

     Getting onto the M25 was relatively uneventful save for following
the M23 too far (until it turned into the A23).  I then proceeded anti-
clockwise (counterclockwise) about London until I got off on the A12.
For those of you unfamilar with British road terminology, the M roads
(motorways) are the equivalents of interstates and the A roads are pri-
mary roads that are sometimes divided, sometimes not.

     Having been to England four times previously and driving the last
two times I wasn't spooked by the thought of driving on the left hand
side of the road (although I certainly was the first time!).  It seemed
easier to move with the flow of the traffic as there was no "handedness"
to assign to the motorcycle as there would be with an automobile (cage).
I personally found that in England I could drive faster and somewhat more
aggressively without feeling that I was compromising mine (or others)
safety to an unacceptable degree.

     Thus I was eager to brave the traffic and to impress people with my
big red steed.  On my previous trips to the U.K. the largest motorcycles
that I usually saw were sub-250cc two strokes that would invariably have
their exhausts gutted causing them to become massive nuisances out of all
proportion to their size (perhaps that was the intent!).  So now I would
impress drivers and riders alike with my USA GPz.  Right?...  Wrong!

     The weather must have brought out most of London's two wheelers.
On the motorway I was passed by ZX-7's, GSXR's, CBR's and anything else
current in the alphabet soup of sport bikes.  At one point as I was slow-
ing down to pay the tolls at the Dartford Tunnel there was a GPz rider
with a passenger stopped in front of a tollbooth.  "Hey, another 750
rider," I thought, "Wait till he catches a glimpse of my country-of-
origin decal (USA)."  Yeh, right, he was on a GPz 1100 for gosh sakes!
In any case, I hope he and his passenger were enjoying their ride.

     With myself suitably humbled I again proceeded Northward.  As I
remembered, the British system of presenting roadway information seemed
precise and logical.  Of course, you have to know where you are going
to take full advantage of this information :-).  As another American
rider expatriate pointed out, directions indicating route heading are
hard to come by.

     By the time I rolled into Beccles it was well into dusk.  After
finding my sister's place and pulling the motorcycle in I noticed that
the headlight was out.  This turned out to be a failure in one of the
relays and it was most fortunate for me that the failure occurred at
the end of the day's journey.  I did have a spare relay, though as ear-
lier in the Summer I had a unexpected relay failure and as such I made
a point of carrying a spare with me for this trip.  To be on the safe
side my sister's husband obtained another one for me in Lowestoft.
This was an expensive proposition, to say the least, as the relay cost
over twice what it did in the states ($26.00).  It was, however, a small
price to pay for some piece of mind.

    The next couple of days were spent relaxing and in preparation for
the trip to Sweden.  I made arrangements to take the ferry on Wednesday,
the 23rd of September.  My nieces and nephew at least, were impressed
by the GPz and the two younger ones (niece and nephew) eagerly helped
me to wash the motorcycle for which I was suitably appreciative.

     Come Wednesday I got everything together and prepared to go to
Harwich which is where the ferry would depart for Gothenburg.  With
the weather now somewhat damp I donned the Dry Rider for the first
time (in Europe).  Then I made my goodbyes to my sister, not knowing
in what shape I would return.  The weather lightened up considerably
during the hour and a half ride to Harwich although it did seem quite
chilly at speed.

     Once in Harwich I filled up on petrol and then made my way over
to the quay where I would eventually board.  After paying for my ticket
(125# + 20# for the m'cycle) for a 4-berth cabin and getting a "G"
sticker for the motorcycle I was directed to a lane where I was the first
in line for going through customs.  After waiting for a little while I
heard the rumbling sound with intermittent backfires of drag pipes ap-
proaching.  This sound turned out to be coming from a rather clapped out
Harley with a rider astride it attired in a plastic trash bag over a leather
jacket, camouflage pants, and a pudding bowl helmet with goggles.  Uh oh,
here come trouble as he sidles up behind my motorcycle and comes to a halt.
Well, what would he say when he gets off?  As it turns out, he wasn't a bad
guy.  His name was Andre and he was heading back home to Finland.  The
Harley was a '56 or a '57 and apparently provided him with much entertainment
of a mechanical nature during his travels in England, although by now he
was getting sick and tired of the show.  This time it was the carburettor
(carburetor) that was acting up.

     Although it would be hard to imagine a more intrepid motorcyclist
he did comment that my wanting to go to the Arctic Circle at this time
of year was "crazy," certainly not encouraging words for me.  After a
while we were joined by a third motorcyclist rolling up in a early '80's
Suzuki GS 1000.  Erkki (who I thought at the time was named "Aki") was
also on his way back to Finland.  He seemed a little more impervious to
the weather as he had on full leathers and a full face helmet.  He also
seemed to be as heavily loaded as myself or even more so as in addition
to hard saddlebags and a hard tailpack he had a tank bag.  So the mini-
malist in the group was Andre who even lacked a front fender for the
Harley (and a rain suit, hence the trash bag).

     With the 2:45 P.M. (14:45) departure time approaching more cars
came in to fill in the other lanes in addition to the lane behind us.
It looked like we would be the only two-wheelers for this trip.  I
asked both Andre and Erkki how to go about getting the motorcycle
secured once on board and I must have appeared apprehensive since Andre
assured me there was nothing to it.  Soon, we got the go ahead and the
loading process was begun...

     Next stop - Gothenburg via the North Sea

     For information on how secure you motorcycle in a ferry hold, what
to do when a fire alarm goes off in your hotel in the wee morning hours,
and how to avoid getting your motorcycle stolen in Stockholm, tune in to:

                 The DoD at the Arctic Circle:  Title III


John A. Gazzaniga                                  [e-mail]