Sunday Rides
I don’t know how it happened.............
The one moment the glider was straight and level and the next the stall
warning buzzer was screeching a warning, the left wing dropped and the
glider spun wildly out of control towards the ground. I wrestled with
the controls to no avail. Nothing I did helped. The stall warning buzzed
mercilessly. The ground rose up to meet me.
I woke up to darkness. The buzzing was still in my ears. I slowly
realized the buzzing wasn’t a stall warning but my cell phone alarm. I
reached over and pressed cancel, swung my legs out of bed and headed off
to make coffee, careful not to wake the rest of the household.
Sunday rides are different, no preplanned routes, no packing of bags. I
dressed in between making coffee and unlocked the garage. Switching on
the light I was faced with a choice. Still debating where to ride to I
now had to decide what to ride on. The bikes are hidden by covers. Their
shapes betray their identities. I take a sip of coffee.
Living in Cape Town, you are spoiled for choice when motorcycling. I
could ride to Franschoek through the magnificent winelands. I could head
up the barren West Coast to Langebaan and return via the picturesque
Darling. Ceres via Bainskloof Pass is another option. I could cross the
du Toits Kloof Pass and ride to Worcester via Rawsonville. Fact is I
could traverse a dozen mountain passes in the course of an easy days
riding.
Mmmmm I wondered undecided. Glancing around the silver shapes in the
garage, I spotted a reverse Comstar rim poking out from under a cover.
My mind was suddenly made up.
The Honda CBX is to motorcycling what the Boeing Stearman is to
aviation, a celebration of the internal combustion engine. Every other
component is of secondary importance. The wheels, wings, handlebars and
propeller all come a poor second.
The CBX has six cylinders, six exhausts, six carburetors and 24 valves.
I whipped the cover off. I needed to see if she would start. It had been
awhile.
Old motorbikes all have a starting ritual. When new you simply turn on
the ignition, hit the starter button and they fire up. As they get
older, motorbikes develop a personality. Part of this character is the
starting sequence. Get it wrong and you are going nowhere as you slowly
exhaust the battery. I have yet to come across a CBX that isn’t
extremely cold blooded. I mentally ran through the checklist. First,
unplug the battery tender. Turn on the fuel tap and wait until it stops
running through the fuel filter. Select full choke. Switch the kill
button on, lights off. Pump the throttle at least 20 times to prime the
cylinders. Ignition on and hit the starter. Three cylinders catch
immediately and are joined reluctantly by the other three, one at a
time. Ease the choke closed as the revs build up or the neighbours will
be on the phone. Finally, she will idle without choke while I pull my
helmet and gloves on and hit the remote to open the garage door. The
cold morning air is refreshing with a hint of the sea. It’s still dark
and I switch on the lights and scan the instruments. Everything is in
the green and I have enough fuel for 300 kilometers.
As I tap the CBX into first gear and close the garage door behind me I
know exactly where I am going to ride to........I am going to
ride….East.
Gavin Liggett
Cape Town, South Africa
April, 2008