Winter warmer

Time was that when motorcyclists started a phrase with ‘winter’ the following word was usually ‘hack’. It is entirely probable that as soon as we riding types developed our financial clout to the point at which we could afford to buy and run a decent motorcycle we started to seek excuses to acquire another. A great excuse, as we gazed smugly over the glittering chrome of our sporting twins or snorting singles, was always the sensible suggestion that as winter riding can reduce the gleam to gloom within a very short time, we of course needed a second machine. A ride-to-work machine. A machine for all seasons. A winter bike, then.

In my case it was Commando ownership wot dun it, m’lud. Prior to the appearance of the first Commando into my life I rode whichever bike was running the least badly, and just suffered as the finish washed away in the first hosepipe application of spring. It was wearying, watching the bike’s value sluice away down the gutter. The snag was that affordable ride-to-work winter bikes tended to be less reliable, and although I was sufficiently competent to keep a lengthy string of AJS and Matchless 350 singles running, keeping their lights working was often beyond me. And my commute from Chester to Wrexham was too far for a battery. And I had no money. Odd but true.

And so it was, gentle reader, that enraged beyond survival by the endlessly slipping timing