I'm just going for a vee twin round the block

Grandma Africa Twin has been in and out of the garage a bunch of times over the last few weeks, as the need for space in which to work on other bikes has come and gone, but with only a couple of firings-up since MOT time last October it really needed the brakes freeing off a bit and the engine needed a good run.  I also wanted to take a few photos of the bike while the sun was out, y'know, in case of any prospectors.  I did advertise the bike, after all.

So before it got dark, I got togged up, and I did make a bit of "hmmph!" noise.  Let's just say that not having been able to do much exercise at all the last six weeks hasn't been very good for me, and motorbike clothes are expensive.  But the bike fired up willingly and we rumbled out along the street.  For a while I kept close to home in case of spectacular breakdowns, but gradually I extended my reach.  We messed around a little at Bush, then got a bit more confident and headed towards town – a chance to rip it up at the heady speeds of 40mph – and then took the ring road east for a couple of blocks.  The bike has a slightly loud exhaust pipe and the fuel system cleaner that I had dumped into the tank last fill up, whenever that was, was making the machine pop and bang every time I closed the throttle, even more than usual.  Little Biscuit pop-pop-bang-pops appealingly but she would have to cover her ears.

Heading out to Lasswade I saw a couple of youngsters who seemed to have totalled their big Audi SUV, and the police were taking command of the situation.  For the fun of it I rode out the other side of Lasswade to Bonnyrigg and then south-west for the whizzingly 50mph run to Rosewell and all points beyond.  But somehow I didn't take my usual turn to plummet into Roslin Glen and up the other side, and instead carried on.  I thought I might check out the new housing development at the old Rosslynlee hospital but I forgot which road I needed.

I was practically at Howgate when I supposed I was getting a bit cold, so it was time to plummet down past Pomathorn and back through Penicuik.  Having then become seized with the notion to ride up to the A702 and give the bike the beans for a couple of miles, I took another wrong turn and ended up riding a loop back around the far reaches of the town and had to try again!  By that point my legs were cold, since I didn't have my winter linings in (not that they would have likely fitted) so it really was time to go home.  By then the engine was warmed up and the fuelling seemed to be behaving.

The machine is throaty and loud, as it always was, and I need to think about getting some new moulded earplugs for Holz with lovely bestie later this year.  I can probably make do if I limit how long I ride at speed.  This evening I did 24 miles and I survived.  I'm not sure I've ridden any further since Madame Fidra went wrong in September.  It's not exactly riding across Africa but it's a start!

What struck me, when I got home and put the bike to bed, was that I had completely forgotten about my ribs.