16 May 2010: Popham BBR

Popham Bacon Butty Run

Peter W organised another meet at Popham on the Sunday. To be honest, as much as I was up for it leading up to the weekend, by the time Sunday morning had come round I was dead beat. The alarm didn't need to go but the grey light of a dank day did little to rouse me from my slumbers.

In the end I was showered and out of the door in just under 30-min and running late from the moment my feet were dried. I'd planned to ride up the back ways behind Winchester avoiding (at all costs) the motorway. With time pressed I had no choice but to bomb it up the damp and drizzly M3 and A34.

One bonus, it being so cold, and all that, is that I was able to give my ST-Owners Coldest Ride T-shirt a run. Very smart. I enjoyed showing it off. Shadowfax shows 7th at -9C. Cool.

Of course, since lumping Shadowfax with his top box again 'bomb it' should cap out at 80mph. My recall of the box's destabilising effects in the wind kept us steady as far as Hedge End but with the minutes ticking away and the internalised body clock screaming that we'd be late enough to miss the event, Shadowfax's throttle twisted a share squeezed more and we re-joined the traffic in the 'fast' lane. No problem.

Remembering I'd fitted the top box to remind me to go slow, I'm considering this strategy to have failed. However, I felt guilty much of the way so there must be something in the ploy?

Once in Popham I pulled up and reverse parked against a (shiny; he'd had it valeted!) wineberry Pan 1100 (Peter's) and a same colour Deauville. A silver ST1300 was to one side and a blue 1300 under cover in the café's 'porch' area. The rain had abated but it was far from summer weather.

Inside, I met Peter, from ST-Owners.com (STOC); Ken, the Pan-Clan Southern Central region coordinator; Rob, from the same Pan-Clan branch, and Stewart, an ageing Deauville rider (I later found out) that had tipped up and got comfy with some fellow bikers. I didn't know who was who and was only introduced by name.

I had thought them all STOC members and had missed what their avatars were (which weren't anyway, so didn't miss much) and sat idly while they each chatted everything EXCEPT the bikes. Peter had a look; I didn't read it at the time but I think I'd know the situation if we repeated it: it was a, “this isn't what I planned”.

Stewart had hairs growing out of his nose that made me keep my glasses on for protection as I sat next to him with my welcome bacon and sausage torpedo. When he turned to talk to me I had to fight hard from ducking instinctively. A warm chap and former engineer who had worked on steam (traction) engines locally, taught engineering a while, and still dabbled with various engines when there was a call for an old steam sage. He talked like he'd been stoked for a long hill. And talked. As much as he was delightful company he was also greedy for his air time. It was only later I found out that he was an interloper – not that that matters – but I'd have preferred to have found out about the other two, who were far more interesting.

Ken and Rob weren't the Pan-Clan I expected. In the photos on their site you can't help make some prejudice about the average age, the 'subscription' to a club magazine, and pertinence to line the 'Pans' up for photos that then give no idea of who is actually there. It has been a strong prejudice. In fact, Rob isn't THAT old, and Ken was rather jolly. What really shocked me was the state of Ken's 'Pan'; a silver ST1300 with odd farkles that looked to have been fitted by Stewart and browned exhausts (remembering how long I took to get Shadowfax's to sparkle with pride). Rob's was neat and tidy by comparison.

Ken has fitted a draught excluder brush to the inside of his screen to help with buffeting; a novel idea and neat in its way, if not entirely elegant. Listening to him wax on about the Pan-Clan and his bike I warmed to Ken very quickly. He felt genuine; there was no bullshit. He and Rob explained and expanded on some forthcoming Pan-Clan 'events' and rides out and that there was to be a monthly club meeting in a couple of weeks' time: why not come along and give us a look? “Okay.” I said.

On dispersal Peter talked Rob and I into riding back by the very back roads I'd missed on the route up. Although still grey the sky had brightened up a fair bit and the opportunity for my first ride bigger than a pair was too tempting.

Peter took the lead and, boy, has his riding improved since I 'observed' him riding down to West Bay the other month! He fair tore off and ran us down the straight bits touching 70mph – a full 10mph more than he'd demonstrated before. He fair launched into some bends, too. He positioned himself carefully for the most part but on the narrower lanes I feared he might not be in the ideal spot for the oncoming. That said, we had a spirited cross-country ride and Peter left us at the A272 for Romsey; Rob and I turning for West Meon.

Within 5-mins I'd botched the double white lines and 40mph restriction out of one of the first villages, thinking I could clear a line of SLOW cars and give Rob time to follow close behind. Well, there was no room for me, but being committed I had to launch on to clear the last car before the oncoming took offence. It wasn't pretty. I imagine Rob, to whom I'd just explained I was looking forward to joining SAMs and sorting out my riding, would have been either bemused or laughing like a tickled badger.



We split at Loomies and I rode for home satisfied from a good outing and looking forward to the Grand Prix recording on the Sky box. Ah, Sundays. But then, at Corehampton, Old Winchester Hill beckoned...