afteraWestward Ho! run.Thereasonforthat
gymnastic prowess wasthatthe T160 seat
wasappalling after...100 miles.
By Bristol theScramblerseathad passed the
killing joke phase andwasentering amanic
depressioncycle.SoIpulled up and hadacup
of coffee.Took tenminutes ,longenoughto
contemplate the outsideworldand to discover
thatthe WyeValleywasclosed to traffic. And
it wasstill yakking down.Iremindedmyself
thatIwas havingagreat time,firedupand
stuck with the M5at 65mph until Gloucester,
swung off,stopped againforawalkabout,and
headedoffforthe Marches–hometo most of
my favourit erides.
My memoryofthatlong-ago T160was
thatafter acouple of hundred miles the pain
somehowreceded.Eithercertain cheeks
hadbecome numb ormy brain had just shut
down.Andthe OK DineratL eominster is
almostexactly 200 miles.Istopped againto
celebrate the imminentpain relief,devoured
ahealthybeanburger andasmall ocean of
coffee,and setout again.Thepain came back,
refreshed andrenewedbythe burger,plainly.
An aside: almostexactlyaweek later, I
stopped againat the same Diner,enjoyed
another beanburger,and wasinvited to a
biker party and BBQby twoyoung guys
ridingaHarley each.My ownAmerican
behemothwasparked outside.Friendly lot.
No anonymousTriumphriders have ever
invited meto aBBQ and party.Strange but
true.Preconceptions aretedious.
Thesun wasout by nowand the Scrambler
zooming along.Onceinto properroads my
speedrose.It’sodd howthishappens.And
runningover into Wales,taking thetwists
and turns through oncefamiliar countr yto
Bala –where the Better Thirdwas having her
swimmer’s holida y–was glorious.Whata
greatday.Whatagreat bike.Who needs more
than 54bhp?Whoneedscomfort?
Thenextday –Meet At TheCaféday –dawned damp.Werode togetherover the
moorsto Pontblyddyn, understanding that
no onewould turnout on suchadull day.
Andthen... somehowwewereshown the
waybyarider from Bristol whorode behind
us onaRealTriumph andtelepathically
communicatedthe route. To acaféwith a
packed carpark!So packed thatthe fewcars
thereneeded bikes shifting beforetheycould
leave.Acouple of hundred ofyou. What a
day. Theremay be pics nearby.Itw as brilliant.
As we satmunching on another beanburger –
knowing howtoliveispartofl ife’sessentials
–the café guyssuggested next year.They
wererun offtheirfeet.Also delighted. So...
next year.
Thoughts on theTriumph? 740 miles in
tworiding days.67.8mpg.Itw as great. Really.
Whocould askformore?
Andthe newswitchfor the Bulletwas
waiting and the Bullet runs again.Whocould
ask formore–again!Thecafé itselfwasgreat!Packedall the time,serving healthyburgers liketherewasnotomorrow,andfilled
with all manner of motorcycle paraphernaliaIt wasagreatfewdaysaway: agreatride in
greatcountrysideto greet greatriders.Andcan
all those whose bikeswere givenAVerySilly
Awardplease get intouch sowecansendyou
somethingVery SillyIndeed?Therewere surprisinglyfewMorinis, so wefelt thatthis
handsome (and quiteloud) devicedeservedanaccolade
TheSpecial AnonymousPaul MilesAward
for unappreciatedexcellencewas ofcourse
awardedtothisfine machine.
Subscribe and save:www.Real-Classic.co.uk/subs AUGUST 2019 I113