First ride out on CB1000R - Wrist Twisters
 
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post #1 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 03:40 AM Thread Starter
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First ride out on CB1000R

Well I guess now is the time as good as any to tell a tale of my time with my brand new motorcycle.

As you know my esteemed reader, I have recently come in possession of a fine piece of mechanical engineering. Namely one CB1000R, known as a Predator - born from the engineering workshop of an '07 Fireblade engine and modelled in the runway fashion halls of Europe.

I acquired my bi-wheel locomotive contraption from those erstwhile rapscallions in Botany Honda, dear Wichard is such a glorious bastard when it comes to providing an opportunity to dispose of one's liquidity on frivolous, and quite frankly dangerous mechanical marvels.

But I digress, I had a Scottoiler fitted due to the somewhat largish amounts of milage I happen to go through. Apart from that my Predator (affectionately also known as a "Preddy" - I shall interchange when it most suits my narration) was stock standard.

On Friday 3rd Sept, I was deposited in the showroom by my most affable friend, the redoubtable DONOR. A few matters to attend to, I eventually rode to DONOR's demesne to show it off to his two young lads and a quick yarn before scuttling off home to make some quick preparations for my sojourn.

Now, for those who usually know me - this foresight in actually preparing for one of my usual pootles is not normally the case. I can only put this down to the subliminal effect another not-so-erstwhile companion has on me ... namely that sixth un-named rider of the apocalypse with the sobriquet of Gremlin (I make the sign of the cross, spit three times on the floor, hop on one leg and spin around 360 degrees to ward off his evil eye okey.

I stashed into a backpack, two pairs of inner gloves, a neck ruff and a first aid kit – donning also a fresh thermal garment that arrived from 1-day in the mail that day also. My usual riding suit of my ubiquitous red camo ninja pajamas was the go – but over this I threw a yellow oilskin and Tecknik rain pants. I was resentful of this, but somehow common sense over-rode my sense of fashion.

At 6pm I bid D’orkland adieu and made my way merrily day SH1 towards Ngaruawahia, along the way I got acquainted with my new steed more. Quite nifty. Quite quick. Quite a lot I still don’t really know!

It bucketed down in great deluges of aqua vitae, it was as if a tap from the skies had opened up and someone decided it would also be great fun to also supplement it with the contents of Niagra Falls con-currently. Such fun! I had to slowly scrub the tyres in during this period, since the word of Wichard wung .. er rung in my ears “scrub the tyres in carefully in the first 100km”, I’m also sure there was something else about running in the engine, but I was far too excited to pay attention to that!

Please take a break, go to the W.C., answer an email ... For I shall end this post here and continue it forthwith in the next, take your time - I am in no hurry!

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #2 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 03:41 AM Thread Starter
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Tip toeing through the tulips to Taumarunui

Back again? Most excellent, I do so enjoy your company my fine person! After all, we fellow filthy biker scum must stick together!

Well, the traffic through to Otorohanga was slow, trucks were many, cars cagily driving to the conditions. I stopped there to refuel up and also stretch some bits – it has been a while since I have pootled, and a little thought popped up that the preddy is not as comfortable as my honourable Big Ol’Hornet. I would be trying to find that “sweet spot” as my ride progressed. With DONOR (who seemed to be ground control) txtd, the ride was recommenced.

Out to Taumarunui, roads were still washed with heaven’s bounty, but the Preddy started to show some of the talent beneath it’s skin (at this stage, it had not informed me of it’s sex nor name yet) the rain did not ease up until I got into the township, I met my fave station man at the BP, a fellow motorcycler – he and some of his co-workers are accustomed to me turning up at all odd hours to refuel my motorbike(s). A quick natter and update again to DONOR saw me on my way again. This quick natter was sprinkled with references to the Cold Kiwi and mad nutters gathering there – I am a mad nutter, but I’m not crazy enough to do a Cold Kiwi! I was merely passing through to Wellywood.

Now so far dear reader, I presume you will be thinking “but gijoe1313 – this is very much of the usual mendacity of ride reports you witter on about! Where is this tale that DONOR has prompted us to be regaled with? I am dismayed! I feel cheapened that my expectations has been tickled and yet no satisfaction has been forthcoming! The cheek of it!”

With no fanfare, nor trumpeting of great climaxes, not even a drum roll to extol the reporting of events to come – I shall begin my recollection. For me, to date, in my own humble riding experiences, this has been my most epic pootle yet.

From the township of Taumarunui, a warning from Bob, that most elegiac of BP service attendants was volunteered “watch out mate, it seems the weather will go to shite”. With a carefree swing of my leg over the rackless rear of the preddy (only Gremlin shall know that smug in-joke reference), I advanced my throttle to cruising-through-town-without-the-popo-giving-me-a-government-donation speed.

Halfway between where I left the BP towards the most excellent carrot capital of NZ, Ohakune – the weather cleared! Huzzah! No more rain! Huzzah! Only now the weather was redolent with the gifts of a winter wonderland! Snow! Hail! Ice! Woo hoo! The first inkling of my encounter was with light puffs of angel’s snot, lightly dusting my visor and making lovely patterns in my headlight (which by the way is most excellent, high beam even 25Xbetterer!)

Well, this was a new one on me! The way it settled on the road should have been disturbing, but as those who know me well, mere details like this are like a red flag to a bull – just keep on riding!

Now collect your wits, take a small moment to ponder the inequities of life where it seems there is never enough time in a day to ride as much as one would like ... before continuing on!

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #3 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 03:42 AM Thread Starter
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Oh, the hallow halls of Ohakune opens it's arms to me

Now where was I? I was distracted by some enticing etchings that purport to be of some magnificent ladies in various states of repose and undress, all done in the best possible taste! Ah, but such delights for another time, I shall return to my dissertations of my diurnal wanderings ...

The light snow drifts turned into rock hard hail, the fact I could feel the impacts through my layers of gear was not noticed due to a Van Halens and Deth Metal concert with a drum and bass solo reverberating through my helmet.

Eventually the hail relented, instead it had its follow up of Dido and the White Chicks as more snow decided to see how fast it could pile up on the road. By this stage, most sensible motorists had stopped their perambulating through such conditions, I was verily on my own, with my left hand, I was using it as a wiper on my visor, such was the snow building up and turning into ice on it, the right hand was keeping a light touch on the throttle – since as we know, most high strung 1000cc motorbikes tend to be a touch responsive to throttle inputs!

A steady pace was maintained, and I even got into a rhythm – left hand wipe, right hand stay steady! I even had the time to think how it would be jolly good if someone invented a wiper for a visor or even a heated visor to deal with such instances as this!

Eventually my steady pace saw me catch up to a 4x4 who was travelling slower than me! I think this was too much for the poor driver and was embarrassed enough to head off to Raetihi instead. Obviously he thought he was holding up the poor motorcyclist behind him and took pity and go away! As if! I was merrily enjoying the track his tyres were ploughing through the white stuff collecting on the ground!

Ah well, onwards! By the time I got to Ohakune, I found my gloves had frozen into the last position they had been in before the tempatures saw them no longer being flexible! I pulled into the closed BP servo (yes, do bear with me, I tend to use those environmental criminals petroleum distribution outlets quite regularly – I have a BP fuel card to make my riding life oh so convenient!)

Some warning texts from DONOR and Gremlin found their way to my phone – warning me about the shite weather in my neck of the woods.

Ah. I see. Thanks for that chaps! But not to worry, I have mark one eyeball to keep me in the know!

I thawed my fingers out, washed my visor and … remembered I had some pairs of inner gloves to wear! Gosh! This preparation thing is paying off! Anyway, with a quick check over my bike, my goolies were still somewhat functional and not too traumatised by the drop in the mercury I was away again. Oh, yes, some people in the town that were out though I was quite mad. I must say to you, my effervescent purveyor of ride reports that I am quite mad, just not stupid! Crazy as fox, barking up the tree, mad dog in the noon day sun and Englishman mad – just not stupid!

And with this slight interruption to my journalistic endeavours, I shall meet you in the next section to come, yes, I promise I will be there waiting for you.

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #4 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 03:42 AM Thread Starter
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Washing off in Waiouru, with cheering crowd

Now, I have just finished a slap up feed of lamb, roast veges and the ubiquitous lashings of mint sauce. My dearest mater is a most wondrous cook and since it is Pater’s day, she whipped up some nosh that hit the cockles of the heart just right. Pater is now mopping up the leftovers and I durst say his belt has had to be loosened a few notches somewhat. But, back to my sally into the snow drenched deposits in the dark parts of the night in Middle Earth! (oh alright, Waiouru!)

Now as more time on the chronometer of our cognisant speculations of the time-space continuum had passed when I was sheltering in the lee of the closed Ohakune BP, the drifts of snow decided to band together and heap themselves in great middens and balls of crushed ice on the road! Huzzah! I must have inadvertently saved my last game position at “Extreme Difficulty” Hah, so silly!

Now with no other vehicles heading out my way, I was left to my own devices to delve forwards into the night. The usual ride would take much longer since I did not fancy my chances of doing the usual 150kph+ on this new fangled 1000cc Predator (spanking brand new didn’t you know? Rode it right out of the Botany showroom I did!)

Somehow, recent history repeated itself, or I had a matrix moment, déjà vu … I came across another 4x4 and I cheerfully slotted into the track of his tyres! (Oh, I do assume they were male drivers … but now that I think about it, they might have been female drivers since they were uncommonly sensible about driving to the conditions!)

And this is where somewhere in the middle, they turned off some forgotten side road – probably to sputter out in some hoar frosted field, to be ripped asunder by ravening packs of timber wolves, or gnashed by zombies, but I digress – once again, I was left to fend for myself, I could content with the game of keeping my visor clear and not crashing off my brand spanking new bike and probably imitating a game where it is to slide a large heavy object until it hits an immovable object.

Eventually lights in convoy ahead betrayed the fact that I was not just the only nutter on the road that night – large trucks were shepherding little flocks of cars towards Ohakune, not so bad. Only bad bit was the wash of the grit, ice and snow into my path, since my visor was cracked open, I got to really have a taste of NZ, and brother and sisters – I can tell you without unequivocal doubt, that 100% NZpure is pure marketing hogwash.

So my routine went like this with every large backwash of particulates from trucks … “mmm, nice combination of grit, with a hint of ice, well diluted with snow”, “oho! A sprightly surprise of dirt interlaced with snow particulates, interfused with lashings of lumpy unknowns”, “Hmm, hard to discern, but yes, gravelly snow with a strong suspicion of cowdung” and so it went.

By this stage, I found my right thumb was frozen fast to the throttle grip. Interesting.

Finally there were lights of the timber mills, that meant Waiouru was not far ahead, like an oasis to a man dying of thirst in a desert, like a floating piece of flotsam or jetsam to a man overboard, like a found piece of hidden toilet paper when there is none in a public lavatory, like a … oh alright, enough with the similes … before I got there, a large public works vehicle with scraper and flashing ambers roared down the road to begin it’s duty to make the road safe for commuting. Pity I had already done most of it! Doh!

As I pulled into the public loos, I heard a chorus of cheers from stranded motorists all parked up. I did not realise what it was all about until I saw they were cheering me! Well blow me down, its like they have never seen a motorbiker ride in the snow before! The novelty factor I expect.

Well, I did discover why they were so vociferous in their acclamation of my entrance. On doffing my gear after I had parked my Preddy under the shelter of the men’s bog, I found that I had a conical collection of snow on my helmet, shoulders and the the front of the bike was encase solid in snow! Well, well! T’weren’t there yesterday!

After brushing it all off, I txtd to DONOR that I had made the Army Museum place and just prepping for the next leg. A couple of large trucks had pulled up and I could sense their thinking “what a bloody idiot!” … hah! I have you know I am not just any bloody idiot, I am the king of all bloody idiots that have been and gone before at this moment! So there.

Now, before you shiver yourself to timbers from all that promulgating on temperature induced shards of cold delight, I shall take a break and throw small fluffy animals onto a Velcro wall and then note which ones stop struggling and mark their time of death. What, you mean you don’t do this sort of thing yourself? Well, you should really try it, before dismissing such a pastime!

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #5 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 03:47 AM Thread Starter
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Predator purrs her name to me

Still with me? I admire your persistence and veracity for applying yourself to my litany of lambast to the life of the ride I like to live! So, on we shall go!

From Waiouru to Taihape, there was serendipitous moment, as the snow receded, the state of the road conditions improving, a small unbidden thought came to my mind.

“Cindi”.

Que vera que?

“Cindi”.

A small voice at the back of my mind spoke to me, it was my Predator communing with me. My preddy was announcing her name to me! No longer just a Honda made CB1000R Predator, my bike had proclaimed she was a female and her name was Cindi! Marvellous!

She also informed me that the names of my two male Hornets at home were “Max” (CB900 Hornet, aka Big Ol’Hornet) and “Pete” (CB250 Hornet, aka lil’ol’hornet). Apparently she had a nice conversation with them, I didn’t realise the significance of this until later … (hush, all shall be revealed when I get to Ashhurst, so you can just stop your blubbering and be patient until then ).

With a much improvement in the weather, the pace picked up and in next to no time at all Taihape was just a down hill run (oh ho ho, for all those that know the Taihape area, I made a funny … )

Stopping at the … wait for it … BP servo, I refuelled, gathered my wits (be quiet! Yes you in the cheap seats! I know I could better be known as witless, but it’s my story and I make the cheap shots!) txtd DONOR (I think the chap had gone to beddy byes long before this) and leaving a rather large puddle of water on their floor and forecourt. I also begged a couple of plastic bags to put on my feet, since the water proofing liners of my Garnes had somehow wicked in water and it was sloshing about a bit. I remembered to tip the water out into the bin inside, hah, see what good upbringing I had! So remember that tip! (ho ho, made a funny again, chortle).

From there, it was a relatively quiet run from Taihape down SH1, moving through Marton, blasting onto Bulls quickly, followed by Foxton, leaving Levin, over through Otaki … before passing some time at a … MOBIL servo in Paraparaumu. Gasp! I hear you cry dear reader! A MOBIL? Oh noes! That traitorous dog! Well before pillorising me, I would have you know that Cindi (or is that spelt Cyndi? Or even Sindi or Syndi?) is a lush, she has a mad thirst for go juice and goes through it like an alcoholic in a bottle store. I think she is trying to make a statement against a Firestorm’s consumption! Anyway, being filthy biker scum, I care not a jot for how much liquefied dinosaur goes through my ‘zorst (which shall be replaced by a nice can later on, but I do digress) – the more fuel I use the betterer it is! (25 times moar betterer even!)

From there it was pretty quiet until the penal colony of Porirua came into view. Now, I met the a of plonkers in a beat up car, as I was passing them on the right hand lane, they decided to engage in drop kick activities, they sped up and it was about the time I saw them rolling their windows down I decided to give Cindi a little tickle on the throttle.

My oath.

Roger me sideways with a steel wire brush.

I was dearly holding onto life and sanity as I hit warpspeed.

I somehow managed to make the fused show tripping the light fantastic into some semblance of pastiche vignettes. I recall the engine growling out aloud, the lines on the road becoming one solid block and the tunnel vision … for those who come from the 80s, there were shows called Automan and Streethawk. Respectively they were shows about vehicles doing ludricous speeds with the attendant thrill and terror all rolled into one.

The car load of idiots were left far behind quickly, since I had clearly crossed over dimensions with my acceleration, I thought I could hear the conversations of the passengers in the car “Hah! You got owned by that bike!”, “Dude, he just … went” and other such epithets (actually I felt like those characters in “World’s Fastest Indian” who were watching Burt take his Indian on a speed test run “look at him go!”)

With that incident left behind in the prehistoric stone age, such was my velocity I had actually broken the space-time barrier, I found myself in Wellington, home of the team I hate to love, or love to hate, the Hurricanes/Wellington Lions. It is my home, I was born here and raised here – and I love to come back to it when I can (probably explains why I inadvertently travel here so often!)

But, it is time to have another moment of reflection – I’m sure you have a few chores to catch up on, don’t worry I will still be here waiting anon for thee to return upon the nonce, mark ye well I will!

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #6 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 03:48 AM Thread Starter
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Winding down at Wellywood with a burger

Before we continue on with my errant stream of consciousness, some facts about my dear Cindi, or CB1000R Predator – they say that it was conceived on the drawing table at Honda, when there was a lapdancing good time girl jiggling her bits at the chief engineer or another apocryphal story goes that a CBR1000RR got it on with a 900F Hornet. But, we all just know it as the CB1000R Predator.

Now DONOR did post in his “Scrubbing in New Tyres” thread that I would be down at BK on Courtenay Drive around 12.30 – 1.30am. Oh such optimistic predictions! I actually got there around 2.30ish and parked up across the road from it (all the better to watch over my precioussss).

The ride down through the gorge, gave me ample reminder about the nickname “Windy Wellington” that’s windy as in the blowing concept, not windy as the twisties we all love so much!

I found myself heeling over to ensure that I wasn’t pushed over into any lane I hadn’t planned to be riding in. Ah, gotta love that!

One Late night feed later, I was sitting down, relaxing for a little bit and watching the passing pageantry of life, hooray! Drunk white girls for everyone! (to quote Blazing Saddles “where all dem white women at?”) With the calories now filling my personal fuel tank up, I made ready to leave the Capital and steeled myself for the return jaunt back to D’orkland!

So on the return leg up, I decide to go via the Rimutakas (why would you not do the twisties?), so through the Hutts I rode and of course being so late in the night I had the entire road to myself, my only companions were two Ministry of Works trucks checking the other side of the road for rocks or debris from the cliff. The trip up SH2 as most of you have done it is not especially prized for good riding, but nevertheless, it was good to have a chance to merely drink in the surroundings instead of actually drinking the surroundings as I had done in Ohakune/Waiouru recently.

In Masterton, I filled up Cindi again and away we rode into the night. Names of towns like Kaiparoro, Eketahuna, Pahiatua, Ngawapurua, Woodville are familiar places with some riders, not the most exciting of places… but they do lead to a very scenic and biker enthused locality. Namely the Manawatu gorge!

So with deft aplomb, Cindi and I twinkle toed our way through the delights of the gorge, now since the clock was getting towards the dawning of a new day, there were more vehicles as those people who get up with the cock’s crow were out and about doing their country rural thing. The only remarkable thing of comment out of ordinary was a flash ricer car parked in a layby at the beginning of the gorge near the Woodville end, with the suspensions doing that GTA thing. Was half tempted to coast on up and have a looky in!

Ah if only I did, hindsight is such a marvellous thing. Possibly things might have gone differently, but as well know the callous and cruel biker gods decided to come to play that day with me and Cindi …

Oh my! Such foreboding premonition! Dark clouds forming on the horizon for our intrepid journey? All shall be revealed in the next instalment, same thread, different time, the usual carnage and high falutin’ vocabulary!

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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Dodging dogged dogs at Ashhurst unsuccessfully

And now my intrepid audience (all two of you, and the cat reading over your shoulder), I shall delve into the horror that is known as Ashhurst …

It was a dark and stormy night … er wait, it was a sullen night, with a churlish moon hanging low in the dark sky, it was near the time of 5am when I turned into the town of Ashhurst .. and I was trying to find the road that was a nice bit of twisty (Colyton Rd I do believe). Well I made a turn and ended up in a very rough muddy and potholed tractor’s run. I managed to get myself stopped safely and gingerly turned the Preddy around.

As I proceeded to ride out of the rough, a great yapping dog comes bounding in from an angle directly to my front right, sheesh! That’s just all I needed! I went left in order to move away from the animal … and it just kept bounding right into my path and with the suddenness we all know that occurs when a motorbike impacts, everything went tits up pretty quickly.

The bike headed towards a ditch and as the back slid out, I found myself suddenly riding air and gravity decided to exert it’s Newtonian laws (dagnabbit!)
I ended up about 2-3 feet away from the bike, it was on it’s left hand side, engine auto cut off and the light illuminating a great swathe of water, mud and ditch!

Bugger.

Well hopping to my feet, I did the classic “how’s the bike!?” and went over to check it over. Steam was immediately sweltering off the hot bits and there was the smell of baking mud.

With a firm grasp on the handlebars, I heaved it up … it only went up a couple of feet … and wouldn’t go up even further. I tried a bit more brute effort, but no gain.

Danhmik!

So, I spent a minute collecting my thoughts, application of a little scientific thought drew me inescapably to one conclusion. The vacuum or sucking effect of the mud on the surfaces of the bike was causing it to be harder.

I then proceeded to scoop out piles of mud from beneath the bike as best as I could. Once I ascertained I had demolished the circumvallation of mud around my bike, it was relatively easy to hoist back into a vertical position. Oh, I highly recommend this vertical position as the most agreeable pose to any motorbike.

Taking advantage of adrenaline, I rocked and rolled my bike out of the ditch and walked it back onto firm ashfelt and beneath a street light. I was covered top to toe in mud and half the bike was encased in the lovely combination of dirt with copious amounts of water .. mud, muddy, muddier! At that time, I did a scan for the stupid mutt, but it was nowhere to be seen. I was half tempted to give it a boot if it was still around! Ah well, bigger fish to fry (or was that the mud cooking?) and I returned back to the bike.

I did a good look over what I could see, flinging bits of mud out and checking for any obvious signs of damage. Nothing leaking, nothing out of spec … looking okay!

Until I tried to start her up. Nothing. Rechecked the gear lever, neutral on, not a response! Now, I did that little step back again and went through my mental checklist – and I bet you all came to the same conclusion in the same amount of time I did! Light bulb flashing over my head, I reached over and flicked off the mud encasing the kill switch … and what do you know, it was engaged!

As soon as that was sorted, Cindi started first time with a purr. Damn girl, I think she loves being dirty! Letting it idle for a wee while to ensure nothing was out of place, I hopped on with a squelch as mud blossomed over my seat from the gunk on me – and proceeded to ride to Fielding. In search of a hose!

Passing through the small localities of Bunnythorpe and Aorangi, I pulled into the local BP servo (oh fancy that, a BP again!) which was opened. The reaction and looks on the staff’s faces was priceless! (oh, forgot to take pictures as I was a bit more distracted with getting the bike and me back into some semblance of rideability!)

A hose was procured and I spent a good half hour rinsing the bike and myself off, great sluices of mud went sliding down into the gutter, like the silt from the Nile. As the mud sloughed off into the gutter, I noticed a red sheen come from the front, ah, blood it was. Not mine, so must be the dogs. Silly beggar, must have thought I was a renegade sheep or some paddock creature. Anyhow, I took this opportunity to really look over Cindi and marvelled at how relatively unscathed she was, the mirrors were a bit wonky and I bought a spanner to fix the right one (the left was canterkerous and refused to be brought into line, it stayed at a cock-eyed angle all the way up to Auckland!)

I had a slight pain in my left side, just on the ribcage, so I bought a pack of panadols and had a couple of those. By this stage, the dawning of a new day was upon me, the sun was starting to ascend it’s majesty and shoo the recalcitrant moon away from it’s stage.

So up SH54 to Airnadale, Dunolly, Rewa and Livingstone, popping out on SH1 towards Taihape. The sun’s effect on the road was most telling, where before there were drifts of snow on the road, it was relatively clear (probably also to the efforts of the road crews). The ride to Taihape reminded me of winter in Japan, the surrounding lands caked in a white surcoat of purity. There were trees festooned gaily as a Christmas one, fences, farm buildings and implements were touched with gossamers of fairy dust and rendered as peace on earth.

Bloody marvellous.

At Taihape I pulled up at the … BP … and did another refuel and check over of the bike and myself, by this stage, the weather did show a stunning turnaround to the efforts of last night. Boy, I was enjoying myself! Big grin all around! Cindi was running nicely, most of the muck was cleaned off and I got another chance to clean more of my riding gear off.

So, this particular post is all about the arraignment of my riding pace in Ashhurst. It wasn’t too bad – as we all know, any crash that we can stand up and ride away from is a good ‘un. I just don’t recommend it too often, hurts the pride, wallet and body don’t you know!

Now, I shall take a brief pause to go outside, switch Cindi on again and marvel at how she purrs. I daresay she has been taunting the boys (Big and lil’ol Hornets) about what she got up to on her first ride out. Sassy bitch. She’s got it all and flaunting it! You can do as you please and return in your own good time, this part was the zenith of the story, the climax as you will and the next shall be the denouement, heading towards the end of the tale!

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #8 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 03:49 AM Thread Starter
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I give my due to the biking gods

So now that you have read all the good bits, I expect that I am not extrapolating the last of my ride to an empty room … oh look, a tumbleweed just went by … and the chirp of a grasshopper … verily well, I shall still potter on about the last bit of the trip in my own interminable fashion then!

Out to Waiouru again, all was good, the carpet of snow showed just how much fell quickly – I was now caught in a logjam of vehicles that were trying to push through the adverse driving conditions and make up some time. A lot of heavy traffic saw me take much longer to get through this area then when I did it alone at night, in the driving rain, hail and snow! Go figure!

At the intersection of SH4 and SH47, there was a massive snarl up of vehicles, all vying for a break in the traffic and queues of vehicles trying to get out of the local servo, I bided my time, watched people put snow chains on until the police directing traffic waved us through.

It was around Owhango I noticed the first signs of bikers heading south (Cold Kiwi?), quite a few in fact by the time I got to Taumarunui. And there again, I … yes, please, all together now … stopped at the BP. I took much time stripping off my rain gear and was now nattily revealed in my best red camo ninja pajamas again! Huzzah!

Most bemused were the looks of motorists around me, it’s as if they have never seen a red camo ninja biking around!

With the sun in full stride, I boldly rode the Predator around the drying roads of Te Kuiti and Otorohanga, the roads got better and better and Cindi cried out her song of freedom, inline four engine yowling to the countryside, tyres biting into the road, seeking grip and driving through the apexes as the culmination of the man-machine interface interwove our existences together.

Sweeping were the curves, technical in some sections, judicious application of wisdom over invigoration, nerves holding, spirit lifting! Jaunty cocksure waves and nods from opposite riders, also living in the moment – the flowing, sinuous dance of physics with the balletic display of grace in movement, these are the songsheet of my biking nirvana, each note of the engine is a counterpoint to the rise and fall of the forks, the pistoning action of the shock is the heavy bass of the demands on the rear, smooth lines, no braking were the coda of this fine orchestra of rider, machine and environment! Excelsior Gloria! Digitus impudicus to the demands of hum-drum soul stealing mendacities of life! To ride is to live! To live to ride! To always live to keep on riding!

So yeah, went like that a bit up to Ngaruawahia where I refuelled at the BP and took the back way home to D’orkland. I pulled up at DONOR’s place to have a bit of a yarn before booking it back to my batcave and have a shower and rinse off the bike a bit more.

So that’s it, just another typical ride for me.

Hang about.

It’s Vuja de, I’ve never done anything like this before!

I buy a bike on Friday. I ride it out to Wellington. In the driving rain, hail then snow (with ice!) I crash the bleedin’ thing. I keep riding it back to D’orkland.

Heh, if I didn’t know myself better, I’d say I wouldn’t have changed a thing. But, I know I would be lying to myself. I should have kept riding all the way up to Cape Reinga and back! (no, that couldn’t be done, I had done 1450km or so on my first ride out .. I’m sure the boys at Botany wouldn’t be too appreciative of me going so far past the 1000km service like that!)

And that ends the tale. I commend those who have taken the time to read this, when they could have been so easily riding instead! So, a tip of my hat goes to them and a most gracious bow to the biking gods. They were definitely making sure I was worthy of my new steed!

CB1000R Predator, aka Cindi aka Sassy Bitch … I salute you! Long may I be worthy of your attentions!

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
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post #9 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 05:13 AM
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So...how was the bike? I would like to hear detailed 919 vs. CB1000R comparisons if you're willing. Cheers.

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post #10 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 05:44 AM
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That was a good read. Glad Cindi didn't puke up the Mobil, and the dog didn't force you into more damage.

"Towards the end of the vid, it looks like she may have had a bafflectomy." - MarylandMike
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post #11 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 06:33 AM
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What are you in some creative writing class or something? I managed to drag myself thru the first post. I couldn't go any further.

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post #12 of 26 Old 09-26-2010, 08:11 AM
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wtf did he say? did he bang cindi? and wth were max and pete doing?
can someone recommend a translation program?




just kidding.

althou that was the longest,hardest to follow thread i've ever read on wt.

but he did say he was a crazy bastage

joe,
thanks for the read and the effort to write it. enjoy "cindi" or however you spell it and good luck with her

'04 Honda 919, Candy apple red met., 17/44t sprockets,f-16 windscreen,delkevic ss exhaust,Tharbars,givi engine bars, billet alum. led turns w/ running lights,red adj.levers from china, bar end mirrors,grip heaters,adj. foot peg brackets,adj. bar risers,dunlop Q2(that are better than your pp 2ct,lol)bike wired for gps and phone charger
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post #13 of 26 Old 09-27-2010, 02:06 AM
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He he he well done GI. A classic read.

I personally would have used the dog to wipe off the mud!

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post #14 of 26 Old 09-27-2010, 03:42 AM Thread Starter
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Comparisons between 919 and Predator

Well, I've ridden both long enough to actually make some 1st hand observations.

The 919 in modelling of course harks back to the styling of the CB1000 that came out, the Predator as has been commented on by many discerning motorcycling magazine pundits has been through the fashion houses of Europe and been designed by some poncy eyetie git and his gay french-japanese partner.

The external fairing bits of the predator conceal of course the large engine plant that makes it go forward at a rapid pace of motion. With the 919, you get to see the whole make up of the bike, with the predator - the plastic bits serve to accentuate the areas the designer/stylist wished to draw your eyes towards.

Sitting on the predator is rather akin to the 919. At first, it takes a bit of time to settle into that "sweet" riding spot we are all familiar with our own rides. The predator enhances a more aggressive riding position, a bit more forward due to the bar stock used. It isn't much, but it is enough to feel it.

The riding controls on the predator are very similar - though the high beam function is different, on the 919 it's a flip switch, with the predator it's a thumb switch. Did take me a wee while to get used to it.

Stock mirrors on the predator are much better than the mickey mouse ears of the 919, but in saying that - the 919 does not end up with vibration problems when you rev it up like the predator does.

With the Predator, the gear changes are incredibly smooth. I have barely run it in and it felt fantastic compared to the running in of my 919. Obviously with a larger displacement, the predator guns very well from a standing start, though it doesn't feel like it's pulling hard, there is much more acceleration than the 919.

At higher speeds, the predator has that seducing factor that makes you feel like you aren't going as "fast" - though the digital tacho tells you that you are comfortably 20kph faster than you would be used to on your 919. It is incredibly easy to be over the speed limit very quickly without you noticing if you let the predator have its way!

Around urban areas, the 919 feels more at ease. The predator just wants to take off for the open roads and thunder around, the 919 also does that, but is co-operative in the stop start affairs of city environment riding.

Handling through the twisties, the predator is in a class of it's own. Shorter wheelbase with more get up and go, with a powerful plant means it will corner easier and more quicker than the 919. The standard mono shock of the predator is a step up from the 919. Saying that, Ohlins on the 919 and of course, rider ability will easily see a 919 stay in contact. The nature of the predator is about maximum fun at legalish speeds. Top end is discounted for the mid to low range grunt to drive out and leave you giggling like a maniac.

to be cont.

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #15 of 26 Old 09-27-2010, 03:52 AM Thread Starter
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Part II : Predator pootang points

The sharper braking capabilities of the predator helps build rider confidence and the general feel of the predator makes you feel at ease on the road. It is agile and quick and can carve through traffic. It doesn't feel like a large bike at all - the weight savings continue if you drop off the stock 'zorst and lump of anchor cat.

I did feel the strange feeling of the 17 litre tank though. On the 919 the 19 litre tank meant you could comfortably cruise around and chew up the milage without too much worry.

On the predator, the bar fuel indicator and consumption rate means you are looking for a servo around the 200km mark pretty sharpish. I've had mates who have hit reserve at 160kph by being very enthusiastic with the throttle!

Beneath the seat, there is more space than you would expect, but the practicality of the predator is nowhere as great as the 919. With the 919, the bitch seat makes plenty of friends with the comfortable ride position and of course, the unique understated capabilities of the 919.

With the predator, it's a machine made to carve up the twisties - then ride into town for a catch up for mates and looking tres chic parked outside the drinking establishments (the "bar star" comment some PR flunky from Honda came up with! )

Now aesthetics aside, the 919 is my solid reliable workhorse. It still provides plenty of fun and the pedigree of the 919 means it will always be under-rated by everyone who has not ridden or owned one. As bona fide 919ers, you all know what I mean. I will not get rid or trade in my 919 and fully intend to ride it as much as my predator! (my 919 "Max" is at 82000km at the moment for two years of ownership)

My predator "cindi" is my high maintenance good looking bitch. She will consume money and time just to keep her happy. It is for pure entertainment and pleasure just to ride her around and park her next to my 250 and 919 Hornets!

I'm sure there is a heap more, but I can't be farfed typing anymore at the moment! (just ask and I'll get around to it!)

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #16 of 26 Old 09-27-2010, 03:56 AM Thread Starter
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Quote:
Originally Posted by drewvir View Post
wtf did he say? did he bang cindi? and wth were max and pete doing?
can someone recommend a translation program?




just kidding.

althou that was the longest,hardest to follow thread i've ever read on wt.

but he did say he was a crazy bastage

joe,
thanks for the read and the effort to write it. enjoy "cindi" or however you spell it and good luck with her
For anyone that can read what I post - I salute! I'm a bit speshul in the way I look at life. I post like I ride!

I normally haunt my usual forum of Kiwibiker.co.nz ... but I luvvies my Hornets so much, I'm renown for my zealous crusading for them!

And I like to pat them, wash them, wax them, tuck them into bed at night, read them stories and call them by their own names and bling them and ride them and ding them and fix them and ride them and then ride them some more!

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #17 of 26 Old 09-27-2010, 11:18 AM
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My immediate thought was that Bertie Wooster had taken up motorcycles and had posted a ride report.

Toodle pip!

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post #18 of 26 Old 09-27-2010, 05:37 PM
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WOW, I'll be coming back to this thread, getting too late to read the whole thing, looks interesting.

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post #19 of 26 Old 09-27-2010, 06:08 PM
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Hey GI - looks like our American friends are struggling with our New Zealand accent!

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post #20 of 26 Old 09-29-2010, 03:41 PM
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Excellent comparison. Thank you very much!

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post #21 of 26 Old 09-29-2010, 04:04 PM Thread Starter
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I've just done a thousand kay ride yesterday, and really got to scrub in the tyres. I think they're about done now and need a new set! 5400km on BT015 Battleaxes. Not bad tyres, but the soft compound means they won't last with the throttle down and hammering it out of the corners! Will try some Angels ... just because I can!

Noticed a bit of headshake that my 919 never had, but this was at speed over rough roads (here in kiwiland, the roads are appalling - we use the phrase "goat track" as our appellation for them).

Leaned over at speed, slight twitch at the rear - probably due to shorter wheelbase, but no real cause for concern. Mayhap an aftermarket Ohlins would sort it out better.

Will post up some pics later when I get back to my own computer! (at a mate's place doing some spannering in his gargre on a two stroker smoker)

Kiwi English to US English Translation :

mate = friend, best buddy
spannering = working with tools
gargre = often mis-spelled word referring to garage
two stroker smoker = two stroke (in this case, a RZ250 named "Daisy")
goat track = rough road pitted with potholes, off cambers, etc etc.

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #22 of 26 Old 09-29-2010, 04:09 PM Thread Starter
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Quote:
Originally Posted by JDK1962 View Post
My immediate thought was that Bertie Wooster had taken up motorcycles and had posted a ride report.

Toodle pip!
And the worse thing is ... among my usual forum haunt (kiwibiker.co.nz) I am renown for my more elegiac permutations of a most discombobulated expression!

If this vexes most disconcertingly, I shall refrain from making such refrains and deign to discuss in a more dissembling dissertation!

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #23 of 26 Old 09-29-2010, 04:20 PM Thread Starter
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Some piccies - Cape Reinga is the top of the North Island in New Zealand

cape reinga - Google Maps

A popular tourist destination, used to be 20-30km of gravel riding to get to the location, but in recent years they have been resealing it with asphalt and now it's finally completed. An end of an era, since it felt like an accomplishment to get there. Bit of an anti-climax now! (on the positive side, up hill twisties with sweeping corners is all sweet!)
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Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #24 of 26 Old 09-29-2010, 04:23 PM Thread Starter
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And some more photos for those who missed my hornet line up!

(will upload bigger piccies later)
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Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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post #25 of 26 Old 09-29-2010, 06:44 PM
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GI, how did you find "cruising" on the motorway? I found it very choppy, I found it difficult to keep it at a specific speed and also looking to change to 6th gear when I already was in 6th.

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post #26 of 26 Old 09-30-2010, 05:04 AM Thread Starter
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Quote:
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GI, how did you find "cruising" on the motorway? I found it very choppy, I found it difficult to keep it at a specific speed and also looking to change to 6th gear when I already was in 6th.
I know how you feel! But, now I've been riding her for a while and constantly, it's not as bad as that after a while. Yes, keeping it at a specific LEGAL speed is tough! They really want to creep up and away from you if you let them!

Also as the engine and machinery all beds in over time and use, it becomes more and more natural. I'm up to 5700km in three weeks of ownership now though - and getting to know the little things and what makes her tick better.

I remember the same feeling when I was learning my 919, it felt like it could go up another gear. Once you are in the groove and knowing how it rides, those things will improve. The specific speed thing of course, is all in the wrist and the thing between the ears!

Twist the wrist, vroom vroom, find the roads with the twisties, change your gear, do it again, anytime of the year!
CB250, CB919, RZ250, RZ350, A100
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