To my astonishment, it’s now 5 months since I took delivery of my Rewaco PUR3 GT Turbo Blackline. My monthly mileage has greatly reduced since retirement (May) and I’ve only put 4,000 miles on her. All the disadvantages of a bike combined with all the disadvantages of a car – fully at the mercy of English weather and still get stuck in traffic occasionally, but my God do I enjoy riding her, particularly now that my old commute to Trafford Park has now been consigned to the pages of history.
The pictures below show how the majority of my trips out look now. It’s not a bike, I am more than aware of that, and after spending most of my adult life on 2 wheels (literally 99% of my on-the-road time) it feels different… but from the bottom of my heart I have to say, it’s awesome. After 14 months in a wheelchair it is spiritually refreshing and emotionally uplifting to get the wind in my hair again… that’s funnier if you know me. Don’t be fooled by that grumpy, bad-ass face… that’s just how I look.
The 2 rolling pics were taken by a photographer who lurks around areas of biker interest, R7JordsShoots, taking pics of us in our natural habitat. In this case the road to Rivington Barn over Belmont (by the reservoir).
It’s getting on for 3 years since the accident and I haven’t done much socialising in that time – although I have a good support circle and a generally positive outlook, I did find the recovery time to be quite isolating. Sunday runs to Rivington are a step back in the right direction. It’s a beautiful ride out and there are always fascinating people to talk to – expanding my social interactions is something I’m really enjoying and feels more like me again.
I started going to Rivington sometime around 83/84. Bikes, bikers, rallies and rock music have been woven through my adult life, from countless nights at Jilly’s Rockworld through the 1980s and 90s, to the Kent Custom Show, the Rock & Blues Rally and all the other wonderfully noisy gatherings where motorcycles, loud guitars, leather jackets and slightly questionable judgement congregated.
Those places and those years contain an awful lot of memories. Some hilarious. Some probably best left undocumented.
I have no idea how long Rivvy Barn had been a meeting place for Bikers when I first attended on a GPz 11 (Custom paint and a Harris 4 into FA), but by then it was a well established meet going back to at least the mid 70’s – still remember most of that first trip with my old, long passed-on mentor, Glen Kinsey.! There’s something wonderfully familiar about pulling into somewhere like Rivington and hearing bikes arriving and leaving, talking complete nonsense with strangers, admiring somebody’s machine, discussing music, roads, engines or whatever other subject happens to crop up. I particularly enjoy the range of visitors (both age and clique) – you get your Super Sports, Customs, Cruisers and everything in between – recent favourites include a mint, orange Laverda Jota, a couple of beautiful Harleys, a very interesting well-maintained old Guzzi and a very nice Monkey Bike.
Moto Guzzi’s are a bit of a sore spot form me though – test drove one of 4 Mille GTs in the country and dropped it coming of a roundabout – that torque reaction was something fierce if you weren’t expecting it. Don’t remember the dealership, but it was next door to Knott Mill Kawasaki in 88.
I will likely be back at Rivington Barn most Sundays, unless the weather is dire. If you see me out and about anywhere on the Rewaco, feel free to say ‘Hi’ or wave – most out there still give me ‘the nod’ or a thumbs up, despite being on a trike, which is appreciated – but there is a small contingent who actively don’t, and that saddens this old biker.
