DAS Day Four - This was it

Preparation

The morning started badly; rusty wouldn't cut it.

One good news was to pick up Martin finishing his 125cc TEST: an almost clean pass with a minor for indicator over-work. It was an opportunity to drive in and (more relief) drive out of the centre.

We did a live U-turn where a dust cart was blocking a road and both Duncan and I had to feet-down to make the exercise. I stumbled on a right turn and, just as the biggest artic' ate up all the road and Dave B and Duncan drove left out of its way I landed in neutral and couldn't move. I had to watch it go by the wing mirror and hope the driver noticed I hadn't cleared.

By the time we stopped for a brew in Stokes Bay I was beginning to feel like a right wuss as my psyche folded in to TEST pressure. Dave B was excellent by keeping the morning calm and got us to do repeated U-turns and emergency stop for a while with only limited riding before lunch back at the Pump Room.

Then we rode back in to the test centre and I parked in the parking bay of the condemned. Dave B chatted a while more and showed us an eye-test set up. Then, at 1305hr we sat in the DSA's waiting room.

TEST ON

My name was called out. (Is this a doctor's surgery?). I was invited into a cell and asked to place my gear on a swivel chair at one end before sitting by a small but functional table. The Dave introduced himself and in a now typically DSA manner (seen at the Theory Test Centre) of matter-of-fact got my radio fitted and paperwork signed. Then out to the eye test in a totally different direction to how Dave B had rehearsed us. I had to guess two letters but the gambol either paid off or Dave the Assessor wasn't actually paying attention. Mind you, he has a right-eye abducting squint so had probably been looking at a different set of cars anyway.

I told Dave Ass about checking the brake levels and showed him how I check the lights. These were ice breakers yet I was still no warmer than I'd be on the lip of a crater on Jupiter's satellite Io. I mounted the bike and we left the compound, thankfully turning left onto the main road instead of the tricky right. Then around town, down Spring Gardens and over the road into the tangle of streets around the front end of Alverstoke. On a double 'S' bend Dave ASS asked me to pull over, dismount, place Bluey on his stand, and push him around in a U-turn. I thought it was a pretty dodgy place to carry out the exercise - God knows what it looked like through Dave ASS's wondering orbits.

Job done, I re-mounted and as surprised to be told to do the mounted U-turn. "What? Here?" I said out loud in my helmet. Well, I did my checks for all the 10m I could see each way with the bends and parked cars and went for it; eyes around, knee out to where I wanted to go, and to resounding relief I drew along side the curb instead of crashing in to it. Off we went again and in no time at all we pulled over again for the emergency stop. I was sent off on my own around a circuit and turned in to the road in which Dave ASS was lurking ready to give me a signal. "Bloody hell!" I said into the helmet. He was no more than 40m down the road between parked cars. There was little chance of getting up to 10mph never mind 25mph so I lent into the bike and opened up to gain some momentum. Dave ASS's hand came down and I stopped, looked, and tramped to the side of the road. "I'll not be asking you to repeat this exercise again, Pat". (Thank f&%k).

That was it. In my mind I'd passed. The two knockout exercises were done and all I could do now was leave an indicator on, do something silly, or amass more than 15 minor points. On the silly, I dropped to neutral again behind a bus and went to pull away only to find Bluey didn't balance best at 0mph - but I recovered well, and then we came to a major junction where the lights were out and I was reticent just to go for it in case it was only the red light that was out. Dave ASS kindly told me to go for it. Job done.

The rest was a bit of a blur; I concentrated hard and rode quite well given my nerves, which were still hard up against the back of my throat. Back in the test centre we tramped into the cell and I was de-kitted. Dave B came in after us (as a witness?) It was a comfort, just the same. "Congr....yo.....ssed,....licence....3-weeks....licence.....certificate....blah...." went Dave ASS. I was off the planet for a moment, elated that I was through and savouring every moment while this lovely DSA bloke continued his patter unnoticed. Chuffed.

Next we watched Duncan go and waited his return. I texted sister Nikki and called Karen, who claimed to have been almost sick with nerves on my behalf. Bless her.

Duncan returned; face of neutral thunder - a brew of storm clouds not sure whether to erupt or not. Dave ASS and he went off to the cell. Dave B followed them. Minutes passed - and I hoped he had. Out they came, relief at a smile. Duncan had re-entered the test centre on the right-hand-side of the road and got away with it! We shook hands.

Blat. We were back at Paragon saying goodbyes. Blat (splutter) I was back on the too-light Phut-Phut ill-balanced home. Blat, I was on Dilbert riding toward K's school. Blutter-blub-clunk. I realised I'd not turned his fuel switch on!

I rode up the lane and the 3Ks recognised me (good job, I couldn't find the horn) and we waved.

More happened today, but this isn't a diary. Let's just say Dilbert and I have finally hitched up and we're embarking on what promises to be a far more exciting relationship than many might have predicted.

Thanks

Thanks to the guys at Paragon; Gary, Big Bad Dave, Dave B, and as an also there, Andy. I'm now a biker.

Thanks to bikers; Taff, Bob, Jules, Ian, Mark, Ewan, Gregg, Nikki, and others with more opinion than there are models of bike.

Family. It's safe to mention the "T" word again.