Meeting Mat

Karting Off to Loomies Cafe

Mat texted on Saturday to see if I couldn't get out for a play on Sunday.

Saturday (my birthday) saw my Son take me Go-Karting: his first driving experience, never-mind with a powered Go-Kart. This ended well for me with the day's lap record and some excellent sideways karting action including picking up my Son's kart on the way into a wall, but my Son span on one of the fastest corners and had two big karts collide with him. He knocked his knee against his steering column too badly to enable him to carry on and badly enough for me to need to carry him to the car afterward (bless) with an ice-pack in tow. He has a good set of bruises and aches to show off at school on Monday.
Waiting to ride
Me - too quick for KA to photo (brag)
Son No1

Back to Bikes

So this morning I got up early enough to have a relaxed blat over to Loomies. I quickly dispensed with Sunday foraging traffic and soon began to overtake and blat far more freely than I do with 50-miles in front of me. I was also a little behind time so had some motivation to See what Dilbert can get up to under the crop.

I was impressed with Dilbert's overtaking albeit with strong use of the gears; the rough formula to knock down two gears for a quick pass. There were acouple of moments where a little more welly would have made for a more satisfying finish but it was a great deal of fun without being a whole lot of dangerous.

The Vario screen behaved to just above 70mph but those bits where I could get quicker were short enough to put up with a bit of shuddering eyeballs. I think that it was definitely the quickest ride along that stretch but it felt all the more relaxing than a standard commute day. Mat explained that I don't often get to ride without a purpose: I'm always going A to B, whereas today I was out for a ride for myself. I agree.

When I arrived at Loomies there were about 60-odd bikes there with even more odd owners. Mat rides a Ducatti 748-thing; all I remembered was that it'd be red. There were about 12 Ducattis there in a group. This wasn't going to be easy to find him!

After a lap around the car park under the definite scrutiny of all manner of hairy and the bald bikers I found a perch near the gate so I could watch out for Mat arriving - more important that he'd catch a glimpse of Dilbert on the way in. I felt quite intimidated at first. All the parked bikes seemed to be exotics and over a litre versions of sportsy bike but eventually, with a little more purpose in looking, I realised there were all manner of bikes there. It's still all a little too hairy-arsed for me, though. And when the Harley owners tipped up in their Mardisgras gear it was all I could do not to laugh out loud.

When Mat did tip up we had a great catch-up and a brew. Loomies was a Little Chef in days of yore and it's has lost its service levels of then, but maintained it's reasonable comfort. So seating was at a premium and the milk / sugar station was poorly positioned where the queue had to pass making for some flexible joints to negotiate the task without scalding someone in tighter leathers than the day they bought them.

Honestly, there were some sights! As much as there is an obvious culture of bikers there are many divisions according to type of bike, manufacturer, and model. The gear each person wore also sub-divided the classes and, as Mat pointed out, what's the use of a go-faster-back-hump under the leathers if you have 16-bellies! Loose weight; go faster!

One other Deauville turned in; a blue 700, but I think he lost bottle as he skipped about and flipped off. All in all an interesting session in the Sun and an excellent chance to have a giggle in catching up on some gossip and news. Among the bikes I saw 2 dreamy Hayabusas and a looo--nnn---gggggg V8 trike that was so stupid it was cool. A few Pans dotted around and just one SV-650 that, as it pulled lamely away up the hill toward West Meon made me pleased not to have bought one.

Dilbert held his own. Where at first I felt we should be intimidated by all the sporty hardware I soon found we were in good company of sports-tourers as well as roadsters (which I consider so uncool with leather luggage and bearded bald blokes in jeans and open-faced CHIPS helmets ("YMCA...."). Seriously, the majority of people there were quite a bit older than I expected and everyone I met in passing for a brew and pits-stop were amicable, considerate, and friendly: just like me?

On the way home I passed a quintet of sporty bikes going back to ward Loomies through West Meon. They were motoring at over 50mph through the 30-zone, which I always make a point of keeping to through there as residents walk on the road around the tight bends and I'll often stop to allow them to cross. These wankers were totally without regard to safety and I can only smile when I recall the dipping front shocks of bike No.2 when he caught the big white Dilbert out of the corner of his eye looking ever so slightly Policie, even without my fluorescent bib on for the day. Tossers.