- 122200 km on the bike
The weather is a bit overcast this Monday morning, but it is supposed
to improve westwards. Because the trip to Lauressergues is so long,
I have put it into Sally in two stages, which you can download here,
if you can read MapSource .gdb files. If you are using a different
GPS software, then get yourself the "GPSbabel"
program package installed, which can convert any GPS file into any
other file type (this of course assumes that you are clever enough
to use LINUX
on your computer, and not that
other thing).
Up to now I have not saved my tracklogs from Sally, but the satellite maps I have inserted are not really a replacement for the real thing, so from now on I shall try to upload the tracklog of my GPS wherever possible.
My course for the next three days goes constantly south-westwards.
I bypass to the south the densely populated cities of the Ruhr
area, where one city borders the next and altogether 17 million
people live in an area measuring 50 by 30 miles.
Soon I am at the river Rhine,
which I cross at Neuwied.
On the other side I reach the southern fringes of the Eifel
mountains and soon see the river Mosel (French: Moselle) ahead. The ride along the northern bank of the river
is great. If it weren't so overcast, I surely would have taken a few
pictures, especially of the splendid cloister at Maria
Laach (for which I do a small diversion around lake
Laach) and of the city of Trier,
which I see spread out on the southern bank of the river.
I did start fairly late, so it is already after 5 pm, when I reach
that city. As the youth hostel of Bollendorf (which I already know
to be excellent) is just 10 miles north from here, I ride there after
having filled the tank with the cheaper Luxembourgian petrol at Grevenmacher.
The town is full of petrol stations to cater for the tremendous "Fuel-tourism"
that spills into the Gran-Duchy from France and Germany.
The hostel is as good as the last time, with the added bonus that
this time no kiddie-orchestra is hammering my eardrums. In the evening
I visit the internet cafe in the village, where the owner is offering
his guests free and unlimited use of his unsecured WLAN.
- 122600 km on the bike
The sky still looks very dull this morning. When I set off at 9.30
am the first drops start to fall and 30 minutes into today's trip
it is raining constantly.
I pick up yesterdays route along the river and follow the Moselle
through Luxembourg until Remich,
where the river bends to the south, while I continue southwest on
the N16 towards France. The route continues parallel with the river,
about 10 miles west of the cities of Thionville
and Metz.
This is the Lorraine
region, but other than the rest of the Alsace
(minus the Vosges
mountains) it is not all flat. The Argonne
forest and the plateau de Langres
are excellent motorbike country with good roads with long, winding
bends - it is easy to travel fast, but still the biking is good fun.
The fun is increased by the fact that the rain has finally stopped
and the sun comes out.
While stopping for fuel, I notice two Belgian bikers, fiddling with
one of these modern BMW
bikes. The generator is not charging the battery any more. I find
it quite amusing, that whenever I meet a biker with a problem (or
have one myself), it is always the bike's power supply that poses
a problem.
In this case, however, the diagnosis is clear; the alternator belt
has snapped. I am very surprised to see that these modern beamers
have a charging system using a belt to drive the alternator. The standard
in modern motorbikes is to have a fixed stator coil and the magnets
rotate around it (like my Tiger has). There should be no wear-and-tear
part like a belt build in - but who am I to comment, having just replaced my entire stator coil so recently.
I recommend my "Spanish Solution" with
a car battery, if they can't get this fixed. They tell me, that the
next BMW motorcycle shop is 80 miles away, so after an hours chat
without getting the problem fixed I have to continue my trip.
This is deepest Burgundy
(French: Bourgogne). The land is hilly, because really these countryside
is the northwestern end of the Alps, which is just separated from
them by the great, flat valley formed by the rivers Saône
and Rhône.
It is after 5 pm when I finally reach the Auvergne.
Just a mile away from the Loire
river is the small village of Dompierre-sur-Besbre. The most inviting-looking
hotel is the "De La Paix". The hotel is the epitaph of the
state many French hotels are in these days; the rooms are greatly
overpriced and in just acceptable condition. The food is average and
also too dear for what you get. If you order a cheese platter I expect
to have the choice of the cheeses I like. Instead you get a plate
with a few cheeses all ready made.
The only thing I really liked was the cute, crispy waiter. If he'd
been included in the price for the room, then this critic commentary
would have looked much different.
- 123100 km on the bike
This morning I ride the few miles via Vichy
to Clermont-Ferrand.
The rest of the route via the motorway
A75 and the route
nationale 122 I know already. That is why the route I have uploaded
to Sally ends at Massiac, my turnoff from the motorway.
The weather has returned to what it was when I was in this area in
May; the sun shines, but the wind blows directly from the north. While
in May that meant that it was freezing cold, now in August it means
instead that it is nice and just about right for motorbiking.
I arrive at the barn at 3 pm. After undoing the baggage it is off
to Maurs, where I stock up with the necessary foodstuffs; my favourite
cheeses (Bleu
d'Auvergne, Fourme
d'Ambert, Rocamadour,
Saint-Nectaire
and Roquefort),
fresh
bread and pipe
tobacco - and of course some Pastis
and the odd bottle of Sancerre.
The plan for the next days is simple; to do nothing except reading
books, smoking pipes, drinking wine and the occasional tour on the
motorbike.
For that purpose the place is fantastic; if it is cool, then the caravan
is nice and comfortable, if it is too hot then the massive walls of
the barn keep the inside of that old building cool.
- 123500 km on the bike
It is obvious, that Nick has not yet found any time
this year to use the swimming pool. The pool looks rather uninviting,
half an inch of dirt on the floor and apparently it has been the Bermuda
Triangle for the local lizard population: at least a dozen are lying
drowned on the pool floor.
Luckily I used to run a pool when I was living in South-Africa,
so I am quite familiar with the kit I find in the pool-house. Everything
is there, but cleaning the pool takes two days; fishing the solid
matter out, bleeding the air out of the filter system, starting the
pump and filter, and vacuuming the pool twice takes its time. But
on the evening of the second day the water is sparkling and the pool
is clean. I have also build myself a simple shower contraption with
the help of a garden hose and some wire. It works excellent, though
the water is cold.
On day three I take care of some unfinished business; when I was here
in May I had drawn up a 300 km circular route around the Cantal.
This route (which you can download here)
I had to abort due to the freezing cold for which my summer biking
gear was not designed. Well, now is the time (and the temperature)
to finish that trip properly.
Like the first time I stop at that small restaurant just beyond the
village of Laroquebrou, and again I get a fine meal for next to nothing.
Places that do good lurches for between 7 and 15 Euros are plentiful
in most rural areas in France. I remember that in the UK I get a plate
with bare fries and a cup of tea for that money.
The onward journey this time is sheer bliss. At 4000 feet of altitude
near Riom-es-Montagne it is nippy, but nowhere near those just-above-freezing
conditions I encountered in May. When I reach the outmost point of
the trip at Murat where last time I returned back via the N122, this
time there is no chance for that. Onwards into the southern half of
the circular route. Look at this picture, just to understand what
I missed out on last time:
- 123800 km on the bike
The days are passing rapidly. This is mainly because
I have downloaded a large number of books (at that splendid Internet
cafe at Decazeville,
where else?). I spend whole days reading, the "Count
of Monte-Cristo" alone took nearly four days to devour.
Every other day I ride into Maurs to do some shopping, but since the
circular route around Aurillac
I have not done much biking. But I am certain this is soon to change.
The wind is still coming from the north and it is nice and cool here
in the South of France. The occasional storm has forced me to put
Kitty into the barn (which is rather inconvenient to get her out of
it afterwards), but so far everything is perfect. Think of me doing
nothing, when you drive to work tomorrow.
- 124200 km on the bike
This Wednesday I want to go shopping again, but just
this morning it starts to rain. Not one of the usual showers, but
persistent and heavy land rain. The bike is outside, but I have put
the tarpaulin over it.
Well, I shall just continue reading then instead of shopping.
It rains for three days flat out, never stopping for a minute. The
whole country is drenched and soggy. I suppose the farmers are happy
now (after that hot and dry July).
On Saturday morning the rain has stopped. Vapour is rising from the
hillsides around me and the air feels like a sauna - it reminds me
of Natal
in February.
If it hadn't stopped raining I would have bought some foodstuff from
the bakery van that comes through Lauressergues every Saturday around
noon, but as it is dry now there is no need for that.
I take the tarpaulin off Kitty and get everything ready. When I jump
on the bike and turn the ignition key I notice immediately that something
is not right; the ignition lights just glow very dim and I miss the
usual whistling sound of the fuel
pump priming the injector
system and the clicking of the relais for the ignition and starter
circuits.
When I parked the bike here on Tuesday everything was absolutely fine.
I take off the seats and check the battery voltage; only 6.8 volts!
This is bizarre. If something has sucked the juice out of my battery
than the voltage should show something like 11.5 volts, i. e. a completely
drained battery.
What I see here looks really like three out of the six 2-volt cells
of my battery have completely packed up.
A battery cell may die, thus reducing the overall voltage by one sixth.
But a triple cell failure within just three days? Incredible.
Well, the bike won't start at all and I need to get this sorted. Luckily
I have seen a battery charger inside the barn, so I get that out and
connect it to the bike battery to see what happens.
Nothing happens whatsoever. The voltage remains at 6.8 volts. It is
obvious that the battery charger is broken. I grind my teeth - I forgot
that Nick is a hunter-gatherer; he can never bring himself to throw
anything away, even if it is broken beyond repair.
I fetch my tools and take the charger apart. Inside I find the usual
printed
circuit board connected to a sealed transformer,
and all markings on it are in Chinese. I find that one of the soldering
points is "cold" and one of the output cables is broken
directly where the cable is routed out of the casing.
I take a small nail and heat it up with my pipe
lighter to re-solder the "cold" connection. Some motorbike
chain grease serves as flux and soon this first problem is sorted.
I need a replacement cable from the circuit board output connector
to the battery clamps.
It's the story of my life; I am surrounded by all sorts of expensive
emergency motorbike stuff; puncture repair kits, electrical testers,
spare parts of all kind - but what I need right now is five cents
worth of old cable.
I remember that I also have an electric air compressor on board. I
just cut out three feet of cable from its 12 volt power supply cable
- perfect!
Soon the charger is fixed. Next I have to remove the battery from
the bike. This is not as easy as it would be with ordinary bikes;
any attempt to just disconnect the battery will be interpreted by
Kitty as an attempt to steal her. As a result she will activate her
infernal alarm system.
Prior to disconnect the battery I have to get the alarm into service
mode. This is normally no problem, but with less than 7 volts remaining
in the bikes' battery - who knows what is going to happen?
So I roll her into the barn and close the barn doors. If the alarm
gets triggered here, one can be reasonably certain that not all of
my neighbours will get an immediate heart attack.
But all works well and soon I have the battery connected to the repaired
charger. The juice is flowing, but obviously only into those three
cells that are still sound.
I need a new battery, that is quite obvious. While I am contemplating
my problem it starts raining again. That reminds me that the bakery
van is long gone and that I have not even a yoghurt
left in the fridge and haven't eaten anything since yesterday.
The earliest I can get anything to eat is next Monday - from the supermarket
in Maurs, which is (outward and return) 25 kilometers away.
I have given up on wondering why any technical problem always materializes
during the weekend.
That I discovered the problem exactly 10 minutes after the bakery
van came through here (i.e. my last chance to stock up on foodstuffs)
is just an additional confirmation of the magic works of
Murphy's law.
It rains again the entire weekend. Does the sun ever shine here in
Cantal?
The rain changes to intermediate showers on Monday afternoon. That's
good enough for me. I put on my raincoat and start on a forced march
towards Maurs. Once in the village I walk straight into the next "boulangerie-patisserie"
and buy a bag full of apple cakes and fruit tarts - three days without
food and two hours walk on top of that have left me - to say the least
- quite hungry.
It takes me about four hours to cover the distance out and back.
Having covered that stretch of road so many times on my bike never
left me with sufficient time to admire the tough work Kitty did in
climbing all those hills.
Now on my way back to the barn with a carrier bag full of provisions
under each arm I soon learn to appreciate the qualities of an internal
combustion engine; while climbing the hills in sauna-like conditions
I always have to think that Kitty could cover the entire 25 km with
just over one liter of 95 octane
petrol and in less than 10 percent the time it takes me to do that
distance on foot.
I am hardly back at the barn when it starts pouring down in buckets
again. For another 24 hours the rain slashes down, driven by a high
wind.
The landscape outside, formerly brown and barren as the Australian
outback has turned as green as Donegal
county in Ireland.
Lot's of wildlife has taken refuge inside the barn from the deluge,
mainly mice,
lizards
of all kinds, a couple of roaches
and a praying
mantis.
I need to get the bike fixed. Being a pedestrian here in the middle
of nowhere is useless.
On Wednesday evening I happen to meet my neighbours
from opposite the road; a retired Belgian couple has bought that house
a while back. They enjoy three month holidays here. They came in early
July and want to stay until the end of September. Hearing about my
bike troubles they offer to take me along in their car to Maurs tomorrow.
That sounds much better than another four-hour walk.
There are two "motoculture" shops in Maurs, where I might
find a suitable new battery for Kitty. These shops sell ATV
quads and small motorbikes aside from lawnmowers, so they should
have a suitable battery in stock. But this is France. What I mean
is that in both shops a note in the window announces that the shop
remains closed for vacations until mid-September. What an utter lunacy!
The two groundskeeping shops in the village close both for the same
time during peak lawnmowing season! Well, if I'd still get vexed by
such foolishness after all that time in France I shouldn't be here
any more.
So a spare battery has to be found elsewhere, e. g in Aurillac. That
town is 70 kilometers away (out and return) - I won't walk that distance.
But I manage to buy a jumpstart-cable at the local "Weldom"
hardware store.
Back at the barn I roll Kitty over to the Volkswagen car of my neighbours
and connect the starter cables to my dead battery. My idea is to get
the bike going and then ride to Aurillac and get a new battery at
a bike store there.
The bike starts immediately. Then the engine dies after a few seconds
and the engine management warning light comes on.
I press the starter button once more. Again the engine starts fine
and then dies after a few seconds. This is weird.
After a few more attempts I give up. Something else aside from the
battery is broken. I find it most curious that the bike runs fine
through rain and dirt under the toughest conditions - only to pack
up badly when standing still for three days.
My Dutch neighbours borrow me the local "Yellow
Pages". I check the motorbike repair shops in the vicinity,
but there are no Triumph dealers in all of Cantal.
I think that to find that fault will require a proper Triumph diagnostic
unit, which other dealers won't have.
Having no Triumph dealer nearby would mean to put the bike on a trailer
and carry it off to the nearest one, probably in Clermont-Ferrand,
200 km away. Before I go for that solution I will have a closer look
myself to see if I can find the fault myself. To do that I need electricity!
I need a battery. And I can't get one in Maurs, because the two shops
that sell them are both closed for summer vacations - a typical French
occurence.
I smoke a pipe and think about what best to do. I remember that there
is a very small Citroen
garage in Cayrols, just 16 km return from Lauressergues. I could try
my luck there, maybe they even have a second-hand car battery they
would sell cheaply.
I think longingly of that 62 Amp-hour
battery which I left at Hans' garage after he replaced the alternator...
Monday morning and the weather is warm but nice. I put on my Doc Martens,
which after all that walking recently are now perfectly broken in.
Hiking the 8 km to Cayrols takes just under two hours and by 11 am
I am at that tiny PSA garage.
The guy there is quite helpful and even phones his spares supplier
to see if he can get a proper motorbike battery, but no luck there.
He then gives me a new 38 Amp-hour battery instead. We agree that
I pay him the 60 Euros for the battery and once I have bought the
correct battery in Aurillac he will happily take the battery back
and refund me the money, That sounds like an excellent deal.
Hearing that I walked all the way down from Lauressergues he even
offers to drive me back there in his Citroen
Xsara. What else could I wish for? By noon I am back at my sick
bike with the new battery.
I connect the new battery to the bike with the jump-leads. Again the
bike starts immediately but dies after a few seconds. The engine management
fault light comes on again.
After a few more attempts it dawns on me, that the engine runs fine
on tickover, but as soon as I rev the motor up the engine dies. Could
it be that the alternator is overcharging and thus confuses the electronics
blackbox? I check the charging voltage at tickover; 13.8 volts - that's
just fine.
Next I disconnect the alternator power feed from the regulator and
start the engine again. It runs perfect now, except of course that
the battery is now no longer charged by the alternator.
Well, at least I can now use the bike for a few hours at a time to
get me out of this backwater place without walking each time for hours
on end. I am now in the same situation like I was on the trip back
from Spain after the alternator failed; I have to run the bike on
the batteries and re-charge the batteries each night. Only that my
charging system as such appears to be fine. I am very curious to find
out what the source of the problem is. Considering the massive damage
those motorbike demolition morons from Motormania
in Oviedo did to Kitty, I am quite convinced that this problem is
another direct result of their incompetent "repair" work.
Having been in this situation before means that I can do my math now
in no time: 38 Amp-hours at an average consumption (without headlights)
of 6 AH means I can run the bike for over six hours before I have
to re-charge the batteries. Once I have replaced the build-in bike
battery I will have another 12 AH, giving a total of 50 Amp-hours,
enough for eight solid hours of biking.
The battery from the Citroen garage is pretty empty. That is no wonder,
as most garages buy these things in bulk and by the time such a battery
is sold it may have already spent several years on the premises. But
Nick's newly repaired battery charger works fine and it is well capable
of fully charging that battery over night.
Like in May in Spain I have mounted the extra battery on the luggage
rack and routed a set of wires from that battery underneath the seat
to the connectors of the bikes internal battery (which is, of course,
perfectly dead).
I left this morning at 9 am on foot to buy the battery in Cayrols.
Now, nine hours later, all is fixed. After ten days as a pedestrian
I am now again master of Kitty's 110 horses. As you can imagine, I
am mightily pleased with myself. I still need to see a proper Triumph
workshop, but I won't need a towtruck
or a trailer. I can get there under my own steam. So I can continue
to say that I never ever had a problem with my bike which I couldn't
fix on the spot - even if I had to walk quite a few miles for that
purpose.
Next morning I push the bike backwards out of the barn and use the
jumper cables to start the engine. So far, so good - the engine is
running fine. I jump on the bike, put her into first gear and off
I go. At least that was my intention. The real events do happen slightly
different; the rear wheel starts spinning on the soft, moist grass
and the rear end of the bike moves about two feet to starboard. This
comes rather unexpected, and because of the sudden movement of the
bikes' rear end I find myself holding a quarter ton of steel and plastic
at an angle of about fifteen degrees.
It is easy to take one's time in describing these events in detail
here on the web, but in reality they happen in just split seconds
- like that moment when I went to fast around a curve in Spain and
found the road covered with stones fallen off a rockface, which (if
you read the lot) happened in May to me.
A professional weight lifter might have been capable to hold and lift
up that weight with his right foot (and that right foot is resting
on a rather slippery, moist grass surface), but I can't.
However, that the bike is about to fall onto its right side is not
really overly important. But it is important to control in what manner
it falls down onto the ground. To explain what I mean I have to outline
to you the only other occurrence of Kitty falling down onto her side
- it happened when she was brand new during a visit to Romania.
I was biking two-up with my mate Alex through central Transsylvania.
After a lunchbreak we were leaving the restaurants parking lot and
were about to rejoin the main carriageway. I was concentrating on
the traffic and failed to realize that the tarmac of the main road
was quite crudely put in place, resulting in a "step" upwards
from the parking lot to the road of about five inches. I nudged the
front wheel on the main road, while the rear wheel remained on the
parking lot.
When I had to stop due to oncoming traffic I was putting down my feet
to hold the bike upright - but instead of the ground my feet were
kicking air. The front wheel upon that raised tarmac had increased
the ground clearance to an extent that left me no chance. The bike
crashed down onto the tarmac on its right side.
I managed to extricate my legs from beneath the falling bike in time
to avoid injury. Alex at that time was nineteen years old and weighted
no more than 110 pounds; he jumped off the falling bike like a cheetah.
But what was most surprising in that accident was that absolutely
nothing was broken or damaged on the bike, in spite of her falling
directly onto the tarmac. By sheer coincidence I had left the panniers
at our hotel room and kept the handlebar at a straight angle of 90
degrees. Those clever motorbike designers in Hinckley have designed
the Tiger in a way that no sensitive bike components will touch the
ground when it falls down.
But on that wet grass surface I am unable to get the bike back on
its wheels just by myself. But with the aid of my Belgian neighbour
the problem is sorted in no time at all.
At Decazeville I find a shop that sells the kind of battery Kitty
needs. Once the new battery is in place I find to my surprise that
I can now reconnect the alternator and the engine still runs fine
- which is just another way of saying that all is well now.
But I fail to understand why my construction with the external battery
would not allow me to connect the alternator feed. Modern bikes sometimes
work in mysterious ways.
I buy enough foodstuff on my way back at Maurs to last me until the
following weekend. Nick has asked me to ride with him to Montluçon
and help him moving some furniture.
- 124350 km on the bike The weather on the day of that ride is spectacular. Nick's Harley-Davidson is a great bike for these fast French National roads. But, as the picture below shows, we are not bypassing the odd scenic spot without having a break.
In the evening we sit outside on the balcony of his house, overlooking Montluçon. That city has absolutely nothing going for it; no real attraction, no famous history and can not even boast any great people originating from this town. And in typical French way of life all petrol stations are closed on Sunday, so we have to ride into town in the evening in order to fill the tanks for the return trip tomorrow.
- 124450 km on the bike
After lunch I leave my hosts and ride directly back
to the barn. The route goes through the province of Creuse.
This area is great motorbike country - because for decades this land
is bleeding out; one in four inhabitants has left the county within
the last decades. The absence of inhabitants means absence of vehicles
on the roads, ergo great motorbiking.
I am back at the barn at 6 pm after a fantastic ride of 270 km. My
plan is to leave here on Thursday and after another brief stay at
Nick's place in Clermont-Ferrand to ride on to Northern Germany and
to say Hello to Guntram.
- 124900 km on the bike
Below is the usual map with my GPS tracklog and some trip markers.