Post by bobh on Jul 2, 2007 22:45:26 GMT
A few days ago I got back from a 2,500-mile trip to southern France on the 900, having left England at the end of May just as the weather turned from summer back to winter again in time for the Spring Bank Holiday. So I had to abandon the nice summer touring kit I’d got from Hein Gericke specially for the trip and instead dig out the winter suit (complete with thermal linings) and Gore-Tex gloves that I’d neatly stashed away for the duration. But I was glad I did; it rained much of the way down, not heavily but enough to keep the roads wet and make camping a less-than-enjoyable experience.
At least when I reached my destination (near Perpignan) it cleared up and got nice and warm – too warm for heavy black kit, but I refuse to ride around like many of the locals in tee-shirt and flip-flops. Incidentally, I’m always amazed to see gendarmes (always in pairs) zapping around on their Beemers in short-sleeved shirts.
Coming back it was much the same story in reverse – fine for the first day (amazing back roads from Narbonne up into the Auvergne) but woke up to rain on the second morning and had to put up with heavy showers or longer periods of rain for the next three days. In fact when I got back to England it seemed as though much of the country was covered in flood water. The conditions forced me to ride much more cautiously than usual, as a result of which I seem to have averaged over 55 m.p.g for the trip – normally I’m lucky to get 50..
One particular incident on the way down is worth recounting. On a secondary road somewhere in the Loire valley I came up behind a couple of cars following a camper van at around 45 m.p.h. As we reached a straight, though slightly undulating, stretch the car immediately behing the van overtook it. I waited a bit to see if the second car was going to go, but he didn’t, so I pulled out and started to accelerate, intending to pass both.
Now as often seems to be the case in France, the road surface was a bit dodgy, with the wheel-tracks of the oncoming carriageway worn away to two continuous stripes of bald shiny tar. Obviously in the wet these were going to be slippery, so I stayed in fourth gear and didn’t give it a big handful – no need to hurry, it was quite a long straight with nothing coming the other way and no obvious side turnings. Nevertheless, as I crossed onto the first bald stripe I felt the back end start to slide – no problem, ease the throttle, steer into the skid – and the next thing I knew the back of the bike was fishtailing wildly, with me hanging onto the bars desperately trying to keep it upright and pointing in the right direction.
Unfortunately I was now travelling straight along the bald stripe, with no immediate prospect of directing the bike either to the right or to the left onto something with a bit more grip. This went on for quite a distance, maybe 200 metres; at first I wasn’t sure whether the oscillation was going to build up and throw me off in a spectacular high-side, but then when it seemed to stabilise at a constant amplitude I had to concentrate on easing it ever-so-gently back towards the crown of the road and some grip, which I finally managed to do. By this time I’d passed the car, but not the camper van – fortunately the car driver must have guessed something wasn’t quite right, and had pulled back far enough for me to pull in. Sigh of relief and stop at the next opportunity for the shakes to go away. I gave up smoking ages ago but if someone had come along with a fag at that moment I’d have happily lit up. Needless to say, I was a bit detuned for quite a while afterwards, and even now I’m still very tentative in the wet.
The last time I experienced anything like this it was caused by a back tyre blowout, but that was a tubed tyre, some 25 years ago. This time I can only put it down to the dodgy surface combined with a loaded bike – Givi panniers with about 8 Kg each in them, top box with about 5Kg and tank bag with about 2 Kg. I think I may have filled up with petrol fairly shortly beforehand, which would add significantly to the load (I’d guess a full tank weighs nearly 20 Kg). I probably weigh about 85 Kg fully-kitted up (no pillion passenger). The tyres are half-worn BT020’s at 36/42 p.s.i., checked before I left and again when I got to my final destination. The front forks had just been refilled, which made a big difference to the general handling but is probably irrelevant here because it was the back end that was sliding around; the front end stayed commendably planted despite being pulled this way and that as the rest of the bike swung around like a pendulum behind it.
I’ve attached a photo of the back tyre, taken some 600 miles later (after the sun had come out), showing that it had plenty of tread depth although it has started to square off a bit. Anyway, there wasn’t any standing water as such, just damp shiny tar, so I don’t think more tread depth would have helped.
Coincidentally there’s an article in the latest issue of “Bike” about the problem of “weave” which afflicts police Pan Europeans. The symptoms appear to be much the same, though with the Pan it only seems to happen at much higher speeds than the 50-or so m.p.h. which I was doing.
Has anyone else experienced this very scary phenomenon? Should I be looking at different tyres when the time comes to change? Anyway, it’s something to watch out for.
I couldn’t resist adding another pic of the bike taken at the French-Spanish border – it seems a long time ago now.
Bob
P. s. Tried to attach pix but haven't got the knack - must read the manual!
At least when I reached my destination (near Perpignan) it cleared up and got nice and warm – too warm for heavy black kit, but I refuse to ride around like many of the locals in tee-shirt and flip-flops. Incidentally, I’m always amazed to see gendarmes (always in pairs) zapping around on their Beemers in short-sleeved shirts.
Coming back it was much the same story in reverse – fine for the first day (amazing back roads from Narbonne up into the Auvergne) but woke up to rain on the second morning and had to put up with heavy showers or longer periods of rain for the next three days. In fact when I got back to England it seemed as though much of the country was covered in flood water. The conditions forced me to ride much more cautiously than usual, as a result of which I seem to have averaged over 55 m.p.g for the trip – normally I’m lucky to get 50..
One particular incident on the way down is worth recounting. On a secondary road somewhere in the Loire valley I came up behind a couple of cars following a camper van at around 45 m.p.h. As we reached a straight, though slightly undulating, stretch the car immediately behing the van overtook it. I waited a bit to see if the second car was going to go, but he didn’t, so I pulled out and started to accelerate, intending to pass both.
Now as often seems to be the case in France, the road surface was a bit dodgy, with the wheel-tracks of the oncoming carriageway worn away to two continuous stripes of bald shiny tar. Obviously in the wet these were going to be slippery, so I stayed in fourth gear and didn’t give it a big handful – no need to hurry, it was quite a long straight with nothing coming the other way and no obvious side turnings. Nevertheless, as I crossed onto the first bald stripe I felt the back end start to slide – no problem, ease the throttle, steer into the skid – and the next thing I knew the back of the bike was fishtailing wildly, with me hanging onto the bars desperately trying to keep it upright and pointing in the right direction.
Unfortunately I was now travelling straight along the bald stripe, with no immediate prospect of directing the bike either to the right or to the left onto something with a bit more grip. This went on for quite a distance, maybe 200 metres; at first I wasn’t sure whether the oscillation was going to build up and throw me off in a spectacular high-side, but then when it seemed to stabilise at a constant amplitude I had to concentrate on easing it ever-so-gently back towards the crown of the road and some grip, which I finally managed to do. By this time I’d passed the car, but not the camper van – fortunately the car driver must have guessed something wasn’t quite right, and had pulled back far enough for me to pull in. Sigh of relief and stop at the next opportunity for the shakes to go away. I gave up smoking ages ago but if someone had come along with a fag at that moment I’d have happily lit up. Needless to say, I was a bit detuned for quite a while afterwards, and even now I’m still very tentative in the wet.
The last time I experienced anything like this it was caused by a back tyre blowout, but that was a tubed tyre, some 25 years ago. This time I can only put it down to the dodgy surface combined with a loaded bike – Givi panniers with about 8 Kg each in them, top box with about 5Kg and tank bag with about 2 Kg. I think I may have filled up with petrol fairly shortly beforehand, which would add significantly to the load (I’d guess a full tank weighs nearly 20 Kg). I probably weigh about 85 Kg fully-kitted up (no pillion passenger). The tyres are half-worn BT020’s at 36/42 p.s.i., checked before I left and again when I got to my final destination. The front forks had just been refilled, which made a big difference to the general handling but is probably irrelevant here because it was the back end that was sliding around; the front end stayed commendably planted despite being pulled this way and that as the rest of the bike swung around like a pendulum behind it.
I’ve attached a photo of the back tyre, taken some 600 miles later (after the sun had come out), showing that it had plenty of tread depth although it has started to square off a bit. Anyway, there wasn’t any standing water as such, just damp shiny tar, so I don’t think more tread depth would have helped.
Coincidentally there’s an article in the latest issue of “Bike” about the problem of “weave” which afflicts police Pan Europeans. The symptoms appear to be much the same, though with the Pan it only seems to happen at much higher speeds than the 50-or so m.p.h. which I was doing.
Has anyone else experienced this very scary phenomenon? Should I be looking at different tyres when the time comes to change? Anyway, it’s something to watch out for.
I couldn’t resist adding another pic of the bike taken at the French-Spanish border – it seems a long time ago now.
Bob
P. s. Tried to attach pix but haven't got the knack - must read the manual!
