It’s been some time since the BMW K100 has been on the road. I first bought this motorcycle whilst on a hiatus from motorcycling in general. I crashed a Ducati some three years ago, hit my head and bent my wrist. I had headaches for a year or two and I still get agro from my wrist which although I know will be fine, is a problem amongst day to day living. I quite simply can’t do certain things like pick up money from behind the sofa, hold a boom pole for long enough or turn over in bed sometimes when it’s bad. Last year however, in mid summer, having lasted a month or two thinking about having a bike again, I actually went out and bought one.
I travelled down to Chichester with Fay and we rocked up at a warehouse type place full of bikes. Once we’d arrived there was only one machine that seemed fit for the job. I rode it back a week later and had mixed feelings. This was strictly a middle aged machine that oozed gentlemanly charm and charisma. It didn’t like being revved too hard and it certainly didn’t want to be thrown into corners. It was quite happy to plod along, could turn up the heat if you really wanted it to and got you from A to B in relative comfort.
A year later she had sat all winter and her battery had run flat so last week I resolved to retrieve said battery, charge it and get her back on the road. I even called up an old friend of mine who likes German bikes and asked if he wanted to meet somewhere but he was having none it. He had no MOT and needed a new front tyre. It would have to be a trip on my own. I have ridden solo for a few years and have always enjoyed it but at the tender age of 42 I thought I could make it a more sociable platform.
Having fired her up last Wednesday I trundled off through the South London traffic in search of the A3.
Traffic is the enemy of the motorcycle. Not because it can’t handle it: it can, it simply rides up the side of it but because being freer on a motorcycle you become even more of a princess. ‘I want the whole road to myself to enjoy this thing which let’s face it is a more dangerous experience. I deserve more…’
Seeing as I had my camera with me, yes that is a top box and you can store things in it, this is a practical bike and even has panniers bigger than life itself I was able to take the odd photo of Box Hill in early summer. There were people there flying kites and lying around snogging and even some rudeboys who’d come down for the day and who were giving it large. In many ways it gave a little contrast to the usual Mole Valley life….
Since the outing I have found renewed interest in the adventure of motorcycling and am considering a trip to Paris at the end of the month to attend a masterclass given by Steve Coleman and his crew. Foggy insanity also states that I may continue the trip down to the South of France once I have finished in the capital. It’s only 750 miles to my Mum’s place from there. Only 750 miles.