14 minute read
Married to a Biker
from TUG_Web_June_2020
by chrisj1948
Married to a Biker
Mary Crowley (Chris Johnson’s wife)
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When I tell new acquaintances that my husband is a biker, nine times out of ten they say “Oh, does he have a Harley?” I have learned to sigh internally but smile sweetly and respond “No actually, he has a KTM 1190 and a Honda Fireblade.” “Ah” they say, clearly mystified and disappointed. The next question is “Does he wear leathers?” “Oh yes!” I say, enthusiastically, “Would you like to see a photograph?” This is invariably a great success. And then the sixty-four thousand dollar question...”Do you go on the back of the bike?” Here I have to disappoint them since wild dogs could not drag me onto the back of the bike. (I did try it once, honestly...never again! I’m just a wimp.)
When Chris and I had only known each other for a short time and I found out that he was a biker I was surprised because it seemed at odds with the geeky personality I expect in a computer expert. When he decided to come back from Sweden where he was working and resettle in Essex, it took a very short time indeed for him to find the Essex Motorcycle Club. It suited him perfectly and he met friendly likeminded fellow bikers and got acquainted with the winding roads of Essex and enterprisingly Sunday-opening cafes. At the time we lived in Chigwell, a relatively short journey from Chelmsford. When we decided to move to South London in 2007 it was a tricky decision for Chris because there were no bike clubs nearby, and worst of all, the local roads were all straight and BORING! He had, of course a plan for dealing with the situation….he would simply take in his stride the extra hour each way’s travel needed to go from home, through the Blackwell Tunnel and then from there to Chelmsford or wherever The Essex Motorcycle Club’s meeting point was for that day. No problem!
It hasn’t been without incident of course….. I vividly remember the evening I was dozing in front of the TV waiting for Chris to come back from his Bike Club committee meeting, when the phone rang. In my half-asleep state I was shocked to hear Chris say “Can you come and collect me from Chelmsford Hospital?” The broken ribs were not life-threatening but they were painful and the slightest movement could cause considerable discomfort. The biggest problem for Chris was getting out of bed to go to the toilet. His fellow Bike Club member, Chris Reid, very kindly came to the house to deliver his bike which of course had had to be abandoned after the accident. I mentioned the problem with movement causing excruciating pain and the difficulty of getting out of bed to go to the toilet –or anywhere else. “Don’t worry” said Chris (Reid) I’ll get him of bed for you. You may want to wear ear-plugs...this might be noisy!” He was as good as his word and though there were a few suppressed groans, the getting up was accomplished without too much pain. (Editor: actually a window cracking scream and extreme agony! )The real challenge came when it was time to go to bed. Chris stood up –very carefully! - and headed towards our bedroom. “No!” I screeched like a banshee…..you can’t go to bed…..we will not be able to get you up again! So he slept for the next six weeks in his reclining rocking chair covered with a few rugs until the broken ribs had healed.
The next drama was more exotic. Chris had decided to go on a long trip to the USA accompanied by fellow bike club member, Geoff Preston. They flew into Baltimore with the bikes and mostly made their way across to and up the west coast of the United States. Chris phoned me pretty regularly because he knew I would be imagining all sorts of dramas. One phone call was the evening before they planned to cross Death Valley… I wished them happy biking, advised drinking lots of water and went to bed looking forward to an update the following day. There were no phone calls for four days! Obviously I assumed Chris was dead, lying undiscovered in the appropriately
named Death Valley. (I don’t do trivial panicking!) It was difficult to think how I could check out this assumption… I had tried phoning to no avail; Chris of course had my contact details on him and I had faith that LAPD could manage a call to London. But no call came. Till Chris himself made email contact on the fourth day. Turns out his phone company had made a mistake about bill payment and he was –happily –far from dead!
It’s not all about the actual biking of course. As well as the interesting biker-focused talks, the Essex Motorcycle Club also organises a Christmas party. One of the highlights of the evening is The Quiz, which is prepared and run by Chris. There are general knowledge questions and some specific to biking. Chris prepares the quiz and acts as quiz-master. Chris’s sister Claire, her appropriately named partner Mark and I are the markers, working at speed to check and mark the submissions for one round while Chris reads out the questions for the next one. Though we work hard, we also enjoy the evening which takes place in an Essex Golf Club, a lovely venue where they serve sustaining meals with excellent chips (It’s hungry work, marking quizzes!) And it gives us a chance to meet some of Chris’s biking companions which is a great pleasure since they are invariably friendly and welcoming.
I was relieved when the Club wisely suspended activities in the light of Covid19, but it will certainly be a joyful occasion when the time comes for Chris to don the leathers again, mount the KTM 1190 and head for the winding roads of Essex.
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UKJeeper Rides The Trans AmericaTrail. Tim Cooper
Documenting my 2018 East to West (then East, then West again!) trip across the USA.
Prequel: I used to ride, a long time ago (22 years),both for fun and for work (courier in Los Angeles).Until I began to run out of luck, and into cars. Several times in the space of 6 months! None of which were my fault, but on my last trip to the ER I decided to hang up my helmet for the sake of myself and my young family.
The Trip: Nearly a quarter century later, I took ‘voluntary redundancy’ from my job in the UK, and found myself in a position financially, and timewise, to have an ‘adventure’. I’d always wanted to complete a trip from one US coast to the other. I’ve travelled the US, in part, several times before. I’ve piloted helicopters and light planes up and down various States, driven an RV from Connecticut to California (in 5 days), but always for someone else and on a strict schedule. This time it was going to be for me, on my schedule, my term’s. But how? I considered options such as Route 66, but the idea of endless hours of freeway pounding didn’t thrill me or fill me with enthusiasm. Then I read about the Trans America Trail And that did ‘float my boat’. It clicked.
Initially I considered doing it in my Jeep Wrangler. I had plenty of 4×4 experience both in the US and UK, having gotten into Jeeps when I got off bikes. But it didn’t quite seem ‘right’. Then my Wife suggested I do it on a motorcycle. That maybe it was time to ride again. So, I signed up to take my UK bike tests and started to look around for which motorcycle I should use, eventually reading about the Honda CB500X, and how it could be turned
from a mediocre commuter bike into an affordable ADV vehicle. Which brought me to Rally Raidand their various upgrade options. My initial plan involved buying a used CB500X in the US, picking it up at the beginning of the journey. Fortunately this became problematic due to the requirements to register the bike in my name in the US. I say fortunately as I realise now that jumping on a motorcycle, after 22 years with only 5 hours of practice for the UK licence, to ride 5000 miles, would have been a bad idea. (and, as it turned out, I rode WAY more than 5,000 miles!)
So I looked around for a UK CB500X, which is when Jenny Morgantold me about Rally Raidselling an ex demo bike. This one: If anyone knew how good a Rally Raid equipped CB was, it would be her. As she’d already ridden the trail on a similar CB. After a bit of back and forth over which parts to leave on the demo bike, and which parts I didn’t need, and the price, I picked it up the day after passing my test! The original plan was to leave later in the year, around late August, and work an IT contract to keep money coming in until then. However, that particular plan changed rapidly when the contract came to a sudden, screeching halt, three months early! So, change of plans. I literally came home from that last day at work, and called Air Canada to book the flights. I chose to take the Air Canada method of shipping the bike, as their ‘Fly Your Bike‘ Program, financially is at least as good, or better, than sea freighting with the advantage that it flies with you and is instantly available on arrival (in theory anyway, I’ll get to that) rather that the 6 weeks of no bike while it cruises the Atlantic. And no “oh, we haven’t shipped it yet”, as has happened to others.
So, I booked the flight, for me and the bike and began the paperwork. Only to find that the only company who insured visitors and their vehicles to the US had pulled out of the market recently. It took some doing, but I found a US brokerwho had another option and the trip was back on! After a couple of last minute panics over the EPA import certificate and the Canadian ETA visa (as I didn’t know I needed them!), I rode the bike down to Heathrow and Air Canada cargo, the day before the flight, to be booked in, x-rayed, and strapped to a pallet.
We’re on our way! Arriving at Montreal I dashed off the plane and watched to make sure the bike was a) actually on the plane and b) still in one piece. Fortunately both were true. Air
Canada did a great job. Once I’d successfully passed through Canadian customs, I took a taxi to Air Canada cargo on the other side of the airport. Only to be told that I’d have to go back to the terminal and convince customs to release the bike. Turns out the day after Canada Day is also a public holiday, so there were no officers at the cargo building and they are only supposed to sign off on perishables and live animals.
So, back to the terminal, and out with my best begging voice. Success! BACK to AC again with the all-important stamped paperwork, and I was reunited with the bike! Unstrapped it and rolled it off the pallet for a check over. All was good, so climbed into my motorcycle gear (in oppressively hot and humid weather), and set off on the first leg of my North Americanadventure. Grinninglikeanidiot, barelybelievingI’dactuallymadeit!
However, my phone provider had decided not to play nice with the Canadian cell service’s, I had no Google maps to navigate my way down to the US border, fortunately I have a good sense of direction and I was able to find my way south. Where I dealt with my second set of customs officers in 3 hours. Who, fortunately, were as helpful as their Canadian counterparts and I was on my way in 20 minutes! By this time it was late o’clock, so I rode until my initial excitement (omg I’m here!) wore off, and tiredness hit me. And stayed in the “America’s Best Value” hotel (it isn’t the ‘best value, BTW) in Plattsburg, NY. Where I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
July 3rd. Early start, and with my phone happier on the US cell services, I made my way to my friends house in Massachusetts, on my first full day of riding in the USA (after 22 years…). I avoided the main highway, instead picking route 9n. A very good choice as it turned out. It runs down the side of Lake Champlain and Lake George, providing spectacular views over the water along empty twisting well maintained roads .Eventually finding my way to my friend’s house, in West Stockbridge, right on the NY/Mass border. Hadn’t seen Loretta in about 2 decades, so it was great to
meet her, and her family again.
July 4th. Spent the day being shown around the area, going up to Mount Greylock, having a bbq at their cabin by ‘Stockbridge Bowl’ (the nearby lake) and making the colonials do a double take at seeing the British flag on Independence Day!
July 5th. Back on the road the next day, with my sights set on my next stop; my Sister in Laws place way down in North Carolina. I chose route 7 over the main highway, again a good choice as it passed through several iterations of ‘small town America’ on the way to White Plains, NY where I took time out to visit my Father in Laws grave and say “hi” Then on into NYC, via FDR Drive into the heart of Manhattan, dodging the yellow cabs and hordes of I-zombies, still unable to quite believe I was actually doing this, to arrive at Times Square for a quick picture, while parked somewhere I probably shouldn’t have been.. before continuing on Liberty Park where I tried, unsuccessfully, to convince the park rangers to put my bike on the waterfront for a pic with Lady Liberty. So I had to settle for an ‘over the hedge’ shot at a spot down the road.
Leaving NYC I headed south, through New Jersey on fairly nondescript highways, in very hot temperatures (this became a theme, roasting every day!) to Cape May and the ferry to Delaware, where I spent a pleasant 1.5 hours (and a beer) with the other biker using the boat. He proclaimed he was taking “a long road trip”, to Gettysburg… And was slightly amazed to hear my plans. Off the ferry and yet more highway miles, heading south along US Route 113. Boring for the most part unfortunately, as it was just monotonous highway pounding, but with not terrible views down through Delaware and Virginia. Eventually finding somewhere to crash for the night in Pocomoke, VA, getting a solid 9 hours of sleep.
July 6th. Opening the room door at early o’clock I was hit in the face by yet another hot, humid day, and resolved to find a solution to my being slowly cooked in the Alpinestar Andes v2 jacket and thick gloves I’d been wearing. (And also realising my Vango Banshee (Continued on page 30)
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