Sun employee & fanatical motorcyclist Mike Belch's Weblog Biker Mike's Weblog

It's spring, the sap is rising and like all true men my thoughts are turning to motorcycles. What else? 

I have just read about two different motorcycling expeditions which have got me thinking and wishing that I could just take off on my bike without a backward glance. Unfortunately, while this might be a great dream, for a long time to come it will remain just that because of our huge mortgage, children still at school, three dogs and all the other things that pin us down (in the nicest possible way). So it is with a slight twinge of jealousy and a huge amount of admiration that I'll tell you about two different adventures. 

Tiffany Coates is a good friend of mine from Cornwall. Tiff has very itchy feet and finds it difficult to stay put in one place for more than a couple of years. She has already ridden her bike across Europe and Asia to Australia and back through Africa, as well as going the entire length of both American continents, plus the odd side trip to Timbuktoo - simply because it sounded like an interesting place. And she did all this long before Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman made motorcycle adventure travel fashionable. Tiff doesn't really plan, she just gets on her bike and rides off.  In two weeks time I'll be going to Tiffany's farewell party as she sets off on her next adventure - riding to Mongolia. Read about Tiffany and marvel at her courage on her website and blog - tiffanystravels.co.uk

The second motorcycle adventure to grab my attention is a ride from England to India later this year. Richard Evans and Simon Chegwyn will do the ride to raise money for Asha and Weston Hospicecare. My dad died in November 2006 from lymphoma and leukaeima after receiving superb palliative care at Weston Hospice, so the charity is very close to my heart. Read about their adventure at delhibikechallenge2009.com. You can sponsor Richard and Simon with an easy credit card donation at JustGiving. If you are UK taxpayer then that nasty Mr Brown from Downing Street will reluctantly add another 20% tax relief on your donation to the Hospice.

My friend Marion, a fellow biker who raises huge amounts of money for breast cancer charities in the UK, is a midwife. She is pictured on the right with her two sons. A couple of years ago Marion took the brave step of leaving a safe job in the UK's National Health Service to set up on her own as an independent practitioner. Her business, Rutland Midwives (named after England's smallest county where she lives) provides a unique service offering prospective mothers (and their partners) real choice in their antenatal care - a far cry from the baby factories that some NHS hospitals have become. What is really cool though is Marion has started blogging about her work, sharing some really interesting stories and insights into the baby birthing business, and her work as a midwife and mother's advocate. If you are used to the usual dross and drivel that some people publish in their blogs, or if you think blogs are the exclusive preserve of geeks and techies, then take a look at Marion's blog -  Marion the Midwife. And if you or your partner are having a baby and live anywhere near her in Rutland or Leicestershire then get in touch!

My last two blog entries are about the death of friends, so it is odd that this one is also about death. Only this time it's about the death of a motorcycle. Yesterday I said goodbye to my trusted friend "VSP", a Honda ST1300 Pan-European which I have used for the past two years or so with the Freewheelers blood bikes charity. VSP was getting a bit old at six years and long in the tooth with nearly 90,000 miles on the clock so its days were numbered. Yesterday I rode its replacement – a shiny new Yamaha FJR1300.

As soon as I rode the bike I hated it. The first thing I did was stall it. Then I nearly dropped it. It was horrible and I was determined to find fault. It didn't feel the same, it didn't sound the same, it had a really jerky clutch, it felt strange going around corners, the lights were different, the throttle was too sensitive. I came back home last night after riding nearly 100 miles and I hated it. I wanted VSP back. This morning I rode the FJR1300 again. This time I approached it with a more open mind. I relaxed my posture when riding and suddenly the bike became smooth and fluid through the bends. Relaxing made the clutch and throttle much easier too. I learned to enjoy the noise, a joyful burble at low revs that rises to a banshee wail above 6000 RPM. Now, after 300 miles I'm really enjoying this new bike. The Pan-European and FJR1300 are both 1300cc, 4-cylinder sports-tourer motorcycles, but they are chalk and cheese. The FJR is more sports and the Pan is more tourer. The Pan is big and heavy and solid and predictable. The FJR is light and flighty and I guess I can never quite drop my concentration, as I suspect it will bite back without much provocation. I shan't forget the Pan, and in a way I'm glad that it's replacement isn't trying to be the same bike. Vive la difference!

This morning I went out for a 25 mile ride with a police motorcyclist. It is one of the most interesting rides I have done in the six years since I passed my bike test. 

As a private pilot I would regularly fly with an instructor, even though I had a licence, so that I could be shown ways to improve or be taught new things. Three years ago I did a similar thing on a bike, which resulted in me passing my Institute of Advanced Motorists (IAM) motorcycle test.  But that was three years ago and since then, despite reading books, watching videos and striving to improve my riding, I haven't had an objective and honest assessment of my riding.

Bikesafe is a scheme, run across the UK, funded by speeding fines, which aims to improve motorcycling standards. Our local police forces have been running a huge Bikesafe event this weekend at a local motor museum, and I attended with colleagues from the Freewheelers EVS blood bike charity. Our aim was to show a face and try to encourage some of the bikers attending the event to take their advanced test and join us as blood bike riders. However, I also had a selfish reason because I wanted to get my riding assessed.

Enter Phil, a police motorcyclist from the Devon & Cornwall force. His first question when he saw the blood bike that I was going to be riding was "Why did I need him?". He seemed pleased when I explained about wanting an objective assessment of my riding and some suggestions on how I could improve. As we set out I was nervous and fluffed the first couple of junctions - silly little mistakes which I was quick to point out when we stopped half way round for his initial assessment.  He complimented me on my riding,  but then proceeded to tear me apart (in  the nicest possible way) by telling me about several minor mistakes that I had made, but hadn't spotted. He also made some suggestions on ways I could improve my riding - traits in my riding style that I had never known I was doing wrong, or to be honest had never even thought about before. The second half of the ride was certainly not perfect but it felt fantastic because I was able to put into practice the new things that he had pointed out. A final debrief and a written assessment at the end confirmed that I am a good safe rider, but one who can do a couple of things to raise my standard of riding.

I started out today thinking I was a really good rider. I finished the day knowing that I'm not as good as I thought but with a plan to help me get even better. Today showed me that while striving for self improvement is a good thing, it never hurts to get an assessment of how your are doing and some coaching from someone who is at the top of their game.

In November 2003 I became an advanced motorcyclist. I passed my Institute of Advanced Motorists (IAM) riding test and in the process learned some skills that may one day save my life. On Monday at the annual general meeting of our local IAM group in Bristol, I was lucky enough to meet Dave Shenton, the IAM's national motorcycle manager. I gave Dave a hard time because recent IAM news releases had focused on topics other than road safety. I asked him why they didn't put out news releases on how not to get killed on corners. Today I was delighted to see that Dave had listened. Here is their latest release, it is great advice for any biker (or car driver for that matter):

A TURN FOR THE WORST

Have you ever found yourself braking in a bend simply because it was sharper than you originally thought?

If you have, then have a think about how you actually go about assessing the severity of bends. If you get it wrong, the consequences are potentially very serious, particularly on rural roads, which still dominate crash statistics.

And it is not just young, inexperienced drivers who get "caught out" by bends. It is here that, in the jargon, most "single vehicle accidents" take place.

There are a number of clues we can take from the environment to help us. The most obvious are the road signs and markings. There are other less obvious ones: the line of the trees, hedges, buildings, street lights or telegraph poles (although remember that sometimes telegraph poles run through fields, so don't follow them!).

The actual width of the road can be a factor: the narrower it is, the less space you have to manoeuvre. Skid marks on the road are an indication of past mistakes. The position and speed of other traffic can also provide you with valuable information.

Another particularly useful way of assessing a bend is to use the "limit point analysis". The limit point is the furthest point which you can see, i.e. where the left and right hand sides of the road meet. To use this technique first make sure that you can stop before you get to it, then simply ask yourself: is it getting further away? If it is and you can see further ahead, then your speed should be fine. On the other hand if it is getting closer, then you could continue to reduce speed until the limit point begins to move with you and your view opens up again.

This technique takes a bit of practice but it will help you to link your speed with your range of vision and allow you to stop in the distance seen to be clear. And in roads where you can't see through the bends it gives you a reliable and practical solution to a difficult judgement problem.

ENDS

From Monday to Sunday I made 12 deliveries and rode for 655 miles (1054 km), which involved spending 17 hours and 50 minutes in the saddle. I don't regret a minute of it, despite getting cold and wet, being frightened silly by a set of dodgy brakes and getting a flat tyre. Twelve deliveries is a light week and given the bad weather I'm quite glad. Sitting at home last night listening to the worst storm to hit the South West of England in the past year I was happy not to be out on the road any more.

My last day, but no hope of a quiet one. Around 10:00am I got a call to pick up some blood samples from Minehead, which is a lovely town on the West Somerset coast. As I left home the sun was shining and the forecast was for heavy showers. Like a fool I though I wouldn't wear my waterproof over trousers but would instead put them on as and when they were needed. Within 400 yards of home the heavens opened and I got drenched. Two miles later and I'm back into blue skies and sunshine. It carried on like this for the next ten miles until, in the middle of the heaviest hail storm I've seen for a long time, I finally relented and put a pristine pair of dry over trousers on top of very soggy leathers trousers. I also began to regret my decision to wear leather gloves instead of Goretex. By the time I reached the coast the weather front had passed through and I was treated to the most glorious view all the way across the Bristol Channel to South Wales. It made up for being wet and very cold.

Close to Minehead an idiot out on a Sunday afternoon drive in her car pulled straight out in front of me forcing me to make a very hard emergency stop. I did it, but not before scaring myself rigid at the lack of brakes on the bike. They were fine for slowing down at junctions but when used hard they seemed ineffective. On arrival at Minehead I told the co-ordinator that I was taking the bike off the road once I got home to Cheddar. A careful but thankfully uneventful journey followed, from Minehead to Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton and then home. I waited at home until 5:00pm, when I was able to ride over to Weston-super-Mare and pick up our spare bike - one that had much better brakes and as a bonus heated grips that actually work. One last job - picking up blood samples from the NHS treatment centre at Shepton Mallet bound for Musgrove Park then that's me finished. From Taunton I rode to the next rota rider's house, dropped off the bike and got a lift home to a warm house, dinner and a cold glass (or three) of Viognier/Chardonnay.

Total time on the road 5h10m. Distance covered 187 miles.

Saturday is generally a busy day on the Freewheelers blood bike. This one wasn't as busy as some, but it kept me on my toes. My first job, picking up samples from a mental health unit in Taunton for delivery to Musgrove Park Hospital, didn't come in until mid morning and the bad weather—strong winds and heavy rain—meant I didn't leave home straight away. I picked up from the mental health unit at 12:35pm and saw an SMS on my mobile requesting I contact the co-ordinator urgently. I was asked to skip the Taunton delivery and go straight to the medical assessment unit at Bridgwater hospital where there was an urgent blood sample to go to the labs at Musgrove.

Taunton to Bridgwater is only 12 miles, but battling through Saturday afternoon shopping traffic can be a nightmare. It took me 25 minutes to do the journey and I got held up several times in long queues at traffic lights. On arrival at Bridgwater I was told that the job was now an emergency so I called the co-ordinator to tell him I was going to do the journey on blue lights and sirens. It's at this point the adrenalin and faint feeling of dread kicks in. The former helps you to react to the hazards that you will encounter during the forthcoming journey, the latter acts as a balance to keep you safe and stop you doing anything stupid. Immediately outside the hospital I hit a red traffic light so sirens on, wait for vehicles to react and then through. 200 yards another red light and then a 2 mile straight road through the residential areas of Bridgwater to the motorway. From there it is a 7 mile blast down the busy M5 motorway, and then 12 sets of traffic lights to get to the hospital. I can't remember exactly, but about half of these were red so I had to proceed with extreme caution. UK law is exactly the same as the USA – if an emergency services vehicle has an accident going through a set of red lights, then the driver is 100% liable. The end result was I made Musgrove Park safely and in just 15 minutes. "Coming down" after an emergency run is difficult. The adrenaline stays in your system for a while so getting back on the bike immediately after isn't a good idea. I took a 30 minute break, had a drink from the hospital restaurant and then spent a few minutes outside in the brief spell of sunshine that had appeared between the rain showers.

Later in the evening I got a call to take some blood samples from West Mendip Hospital in Glastonbury to Musgrove Park. By this point the weather was terrible so I decided to go by car instead of bike. This was quite an eye-opener as it reminded me just why I ride a bike - the traffic was awful and the whole journey took me far longer than it would have if I had been on the bike.

Total time on the road 3h50m. Distance covered 149 miles.

Yet another night with runs to Glastonbury, Taunton and Wellington. I'm getting to know those roads very well. The first job was to take drugs from Burnham-on-Sea hospital to a nursing home in Wellington. The second was to take patient notes from Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton to the West Mendip hospital in Glastonbury.

Total time on the road 2h10m. Distance covered 82 miles.

Tonight I had just one call to pickup some CD-ROMs from Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton to go to the Bristol Royal Infirmary (BRI). One of my Freewheelers colleagues was due to pick up from Weston-super-Mare and deliver other items to the BRI, so I stopped off at Weston General Hospital and handed the CDs to him. The result, a very easy night and a chance to scrub in the new rear tyre that I had fitted earlier in the day.

Five calls in four days, including one day off due to a flat tyre, makes a very light week so far. I'm sure that means I am in for a busy weekend!

Total time on the road 2 hours. Distance covered 68 miles.

Tonight I received an urgent call to take blood samples into the labs at Musgrove Park in Taunton. As I rolled the bike down the drive of my house it felt sluggish, like the brakes were binding. A quick inspection revealed a flat rear tyre. 

I called the co-ordinator and he was luckily able to get a local rider to take the call. In the meantime I'm grounded until I can get a new tyre fitted tomorrow – although I repaired the puncture within 30 minutes it isn't safe to ride an operational emergency bike with a plug in the tyre. On the bright side I can have a drink tonight!

Total time on the road 2 minutes. Distance covered 30 feet.

Tonight I did an almost identical journey to last night but the contrast couldn't have been starker. It was still cold, 6°C (43°F), but the skies were clear and the roads were dry. Plus I managed to fix an electrical hookup to the bike so I could use my heated jacket. The whole experience was enjoyable and as a bonus I got home before my wife went to bed!

My first call was to pick up a blood sample from a mental health unit in Wells, England's smallest city and the filming location for the excellent Hot Fuzz, to go to the pathology labs at Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton. The second call was to take drugs from Musgrove Park to a patient's home in Wellington.

Total time on the road 2h10m. Distance covered 82 miles.

My Monday team conference call started at 7:00pm and I fully expected to be interrupted, but Freewheelers didn't contact me until 8:05pm. During my conference call I was looking out of the window at the worsening weather, which by the time I got outside meant there was ice all over the road and thick layer of hail and snow on top of the bike. A friend called me to say that there had been several accidents on the edge of our village caused by people losing control on the ice. Two wheels and ice don't mix so I called the co-ordinator and told him I was staying put until the situation improved.

Later on things looked much better and a lot of the ice had melted, so at 9:20pm I set off very carefully on the bike.

My first call was to pick up blood samples and MRSA test swabs from West Mendip Hospital in Glastonbury (home of the famous Glastonbury Festival), to be delivered to the pathology and microbiology labs at Musgrove Park Hospital in Taunton. My second job, which I was able to combine to make just one journey from home, was to pick up a set of patient's notes from Bridgwater and take them to the cottage hospital in Wellington. We don't carry patient notes that often due to computerisation of the NHS records system (something that Sun is involved with) and in this case the records had incorrectly been delivered to Bridgwater.

The roads were horrible, I felt the bike slip underneath me several times. I also had to ride through a few hail showers - a deeply unpleasant experience on a bike. I made the deliveries OK though, mopping up the sympathy I got from the nurses at each hospital, and got home safely at 11:50pm. At each pickup and drop off I sent an SMS to the co-ordinator to let him know I was OK. When I got home I told him I wasn't going out again – it just wasn't safe.

Total time on the road 2h30m. Distance covered 87 miles.

Before going on duty every week the first job is to check the bike over and make sure it is fit for purpose – much like a pilot doing a walkround of his aircraft before each flight. At lunchtime I took advantage of gap in the rain showers to do to my bike handover check. Things I noted today included a faulty tyre depth gauge and just 1.6mm tread depth on the rear tyre (the legal limit is 1.0mm). Otherwise the bike is fit and ready to go.

I also had to perform a small upgrade to the bike's complement of reflective stickers and decals to ensure that we are fully legal. I just added a UN3373 diamond-shaped label which is a legal requirement when carrying category B infectious biological substances. This always freaks me out slightly as I think of smallpox and ebola virus when I hear "infectious biological substance", but those are category A which we are not licensed to carry. UN3373 regulations for the packaging, labelling and transport of category B substances are pretty much any biological sample—blood, faeces, urine, or tissue biopsy—which is being transported for the purposes of diagnostic analysis. Displaying the logo on the bike's panniers ensures that the emergency services would know what to if one of our riders were to have an accident and be unable to tell them what is being carried. Here's hoping they are never needed!

So 5:20pm, time to finish off work, get dinner and wait for that first call at 7:00pm....

This coming week will be my first week on the Freewheelers blood bike in nearly six months. A mixture of business travel and ill health have conspired to keep me off it for all that time.

For the past few weeks we have had some glorious weather in the UK. However, just as a I take over the bike the weather is taking a turn for the worse, meaning that tomorrow we will have 3°C (37°F) with snow and rain. How typical!

In the past I have blogged a week on duty. I'm going to do the same again this week, as it should be challenging fitting the volunteer work in with some of the evening conference calls that I attend with my Sun colleagues in the USA.