My cursed weekend to Le Mans with pictures and mega essay
Discussion
Well my much anticipated long weekend for the gp in Le mans basically went from bad to worse and just kept getting worse.
It all started a week before we were meant to set off in the north yorkshire dales. My mate who organised it binned his bike, now forever known as the suzuki binnedit. So after a week of rushing and cobbling together parts between mates we got him back on the road. He was pretty nevous but we took him on a ride on the wednesday before we set off to get him back on the horse.
Anyway thursday night comes along and im doing my final checks, pressures, fitting the tank bag etc, when i notice my rear tyres as bald as a coot. After checking the front its the same. Not chewed up or ruined from super hard riding just literally through the wear markers. Ive done 1600 miles on the bike from new 600 of them in the wet. Ive never known a tyre to ruin itself so quickly. They were dunlop sportsmax d something something. Anyway this was 9pm and i was due to set off at 1pm the next day. My mate is or was a mechanic at a local garage so he assured me hed get me some metzler m7rrs and have them fitted maybe only delaying me an hour or two. No problem, i just had to wait untill 8 am the next morning when hed txt me a price and time to bring the bike over.
So 8am comes and goes.... 9... gets to 9 30 and i get a txt saying hes had a massive fall out with his boss hos told him to leave... s
te news but i was more panicked than ever about getting tyres now. This reads like a lie but its some strange truth my only real local bike tyre place the old guy who runs it is pretty ill so the shops been closed a week.... feck! after a few other calls i managed to actually find a bargain deal at jordan bikes and got a pair of dunlop qualifiers for £130. half the price basically. Result.... only they have no spaces for fitting until monday....Double feck! Luckily i have another mate with a tyre fitting machine so i had to call in and get him to put other work off to get mine sorted. Legend.
Yumm chicken...
So im finally ready by 1230. half an hour before scheduled departure from the motherland (yorkshire). So we jump on the m62 to get the a1 south to pick up another friend from cambridge to get the early train crossing next morning. Half way there i realised id taken us about 60 miles down the m1 not the a1... I should of really seen the tone of the weekend by this point. Anyway we found our way across tot he a1 on some really fun roads south of doncatraz. We got to cambridge to find our other mate completely unprepared so we used the rest of the night trying to wire in a sat nav to his 675.
6am start saturday and a bit of an irresposible run down to folkstone got us onto the chunnel on time ready to meet my mates father in law in calais to ride down with us somewhere east of le mans for the night.
After meeting him and a delighful dinner of slicy bouef we spotted a fuel station to brim up and crack on.... except the daytona wouldnt start at all. ok no problem its not been run for a week or two well bump it and the run down will charge the battery. A quick bumpstart and within 100 metres to the station it was doing crazy things and died again. Triple feck!.
Looks a bit oppressive the ol chunnel
Breakdown no1
after a run around and somesort of broken comunication with the locals we were told there was a yamaha/ducati dealership localish and theyd have a battery. So my mates step dad with a triumph trophy and plumbed in satnav being the 1st choice for pillion ride to find the shop. Only he wasnt confident with a passenger (being 60 years old aswell) and my mate on the binnedit not being the brightest with diretions it fell to me with the stupid r1 and those pillion pegs that took me 3 hours to remove... Great stuff. An hour later of razzing around calais 2 up with my passenger deciding the comfiest way to travel was to rap his legs around my waist as he held a sat nav in one had and pointed directions in the other we found the shop, spouted some sweaty yorkshire french dialect and thrashed it back to the other guys who were by know mighty pissed off. It was also in this crazy time that i turned off a one way street pretty quickly with my mate on the back forgetting the small point of driving on the other side so i had to do a quick emergacy swerve around an oncoming bus.
So Battery swapped, triumph alive lets finally get going. We all decided to follow the trophy as he was the oldest guy and had the sat nav we were all comfortable at his pace, erm well that thing went off like a scalded cat. 100+mph constant until the first toll road. about 60 km out of calais i got stuck behind a women in some road works and i could see my mates dissapearing. No problem i can catch them. As i came round a big sweeper i noticed the daytona on the hard shoulder. Pulled over and tried everyting we could. We thought the sat nav we put in was draining the battery but surely it couldnt of killed a new battery in less than 60 km. The only other thing was triumph apparently just recalled his bike for a regulater/alternator or something which if it was it was game over. Queue going for a piss turning round and watching my mate trying to bump start his bike the wrong way downhill down the hard shoulder and me shouting an hour sat at the hard shoulder my mate and his step dad deciding to feck off and do the 5 hour trip without us, cheers guys. Some old french dude who didnt speak a word of english turned up, pointed at the bike, pointed at his trailer and then pointed at me and just said what i assume was follow. I unhappily followed him through the same toll road 3 times whihc i had to pay and he just sailed through for him to take us somewhere in boulagne or boulagnese i have no idea.
After some wizardry with a multimeter and other things i have no knowledge about it turns out it was the reg/alternator and the bike wasnt going anywhere. My mate decided to leave his bike and go back to england to come back later with a van leaving me 5 hours away from a place i didnt have written down, not the foggiest idea how to get there and no one to hold my hand. I was massively pissed off at my mate for leaving me at this point after id done a 6 hour round trip the week before with my trailer to rescue him he was quick to leave me stranded. After a couple of minutes debating whether or not to go back home and sack it off i decided feck it. its only france i got myself to the nearest petrol station, bought a couple of maps and sat down planning my lonely adventure.
The face of a man realising his bike was kapuut in a foreign country with no foreign breakdown cover.
the french mechanic having no idea what a triumph was. After 10 minutes of him just saying to me who make who make i just wrote it down for him
I can do this. Quick glass of water check of the roads and off i went.
the next part was some of the most fun i had on my bike in a long time. the roads were practically deserted i only saw under 100mph to stop for fuel/caffeine and i was away, Fully tucked in like a tt but it was the only way my neck didnt feel like it was being ripped open. A fun little play with a porsche carrara 4s with a guy and his son up to 165+ and many tunnels/epic bridges later i arrived at 1030pm to an amazing lottery win style house in the middle of nowhere where my mate and his dad in law had pizza and champagne waiting for me. All was forgiven.
where we stayed. Incredible place
The gp was great despite being probably somewhere in the mid 20s and my ginger skin quickly turning into crackling. We were just after the dunlop bridge so we saw all the crashes and loads of overtaking. So far sunday was trouble free....pfft i should be so lucky. After the insane squabble to get out with thousands of other bikers we decided to get about 20km away and get fuel as the trophy and the binnedit was now on reserve...not the trust r1 though. I got 150 miles before the reserve light and 40.1mpg. aha take that sportsbike naysayers. Anyway we pull into the station and everyone else had obviously had the same thought. we were at least 20 bikes back in the queue which was the same for all 8 or so pumps. You wouldnt beleive but as we got literally 2 away the whole station shut down as their software had fudged up and no pumps would switch on. I literally couldnt of made this stuff up by this point. half an hour of every french biker there screaming at the cashiers one really friendly fench lad with some trendy glasses came over and said he could see we were english and to follow him about 8 km to a supermarket with fuel. Result. Loaded all the bikes up turn around and every bugger there has their hemet on and the exact same trendy glasses. I have no idea who i was meant to be following but being the optimist i just picked out one of them and hoped for the best. Luckily they all went the same way anyway and we finally got some fuel. With such a huge amount of bikers we decided to fill all three bikes up with the same payment. I was last so i got to witness my friends dad overfill the banditt spraying patrol all over my mates face. Ha me and about 4 french lads were crying with laughter as my mate was screaming some nonsence about it burning his retinas away and going blind forever. Low and behold 30 seconds later he was completely fine.
The queue when we got there
This is how close i got before the pumps all stopped.
And these unlucky people were all still behind us and all low on fuel.
We eventually got to our hotel south of Rouen which was the rapiest motel ive ever seen. Ive never stayed in a hotel with no real reception and mechanical shutters on the door. This was definitly the type of place that you could pay by the hour.
Luckily the carpark had electric operated gates and a bar that served nice food that opened until 10. Finally a result.
well this doesnt bode well
Push those beds further apart!
After an eventfull weekend to say the least i was happy to get on the train to get home although i was dreading the 5/6 hour slog up to yorkshire having already ridden 2 hours to get to calais, but nothing else could go wrong surely. Well that was a stupid thing to think. As we came out of the tunnel the weather was the worst ive ever ridden in. No problem ill get my waterproofs on and stick it in wet mode.... oh wait i remember sitting at home on thursday thinking waterproofs are for pussies i can handle a bit of wetness for the sake of not carrying them for 1500 miles. After 10 miles at 70mph i got fed up and left my mate and his dad. i sat at a steady 90 and had the most miserable disgustingly wet ride of my life. I sat in stanstead services in a puddle of water for 45 minutes considering pushing my bike over so i could claim id crashed and get towed back home. It was aweful. Ill be so happy not to get on my bike for a couple of weeks now.
All in all it was the most cursed/evenful weekend i think ive possibly ever had but i had a couple of extremely good memories mixed with quite a lot of st ones. Would i do it again... probably not anytime soon but im sure i will at some point. But for now im going to lie face down and let my sore arse and ruined legs rest.
It all started a week before we were meant to set off in the north yorkshire dales. My mate who organised it binned his bike, now forever known as the suzuki binnedit. So after a week of rushing and cobbling together parts between mates we got him back on the road. He was pretty nevous but we took him on a ride on the wednesday before we set off to get him back on the horse.
Anyway thursday night comes along and im doing my final checks, pressures, fitting the tank bag etc, when i notice my rear tyres as bald as a coot. After checking the front its the same. Not chewed up or ruined from super hard riding just literally through the wear markers. Ive done 1600 miles on the bike from new 600 of them in the wet. Ive never known a tyre to ruin itself so quickly. They were dunlop sportsmax d something something. Anyway this was 9pm and i was due to set off at 1pm the next day. My mate is or was a mechanic at a local garage so he assured me hed get me some metzler m7rrs and have them fitted maybe only delaying me an hour or two. No problem, i just had to wait untill 8 am the next morning when hed txt me a price and time to bring the bike over.
So 8am comes and goes.... 9... gets to 9 30 and i get a txt saying hes had a massive fall out with his boss hos told him to leave... s
te news but i was more panicked than ever about getting tyres now. This reads like a lie but its some strange truth my only real local bike tyre place the old guy who runs it is pretty ill so the shops been closed a week.... feck! after a few other calls i managed to actually find a bargain deal at jordan bikes and got a pair of dunlop qualifiers for £130. half the price basically. Result.... only they have no spaces for fitting until monday....Double feck! Luckily i have another mate with a tyre fitting machine so i had to call in and get him to put other work off to get mine sorted. Legend. Yumm chicken...
So im finally ready by 1230. half an hour before scheduled departure from the motherland (yorkshire). So we jump on the m62 to get the a1 south to pick up another friend from cambridge to get the early train crossing next morning. Half way there i realised id taken us about 60 miles down the m1 not the a1... I should of really seen the tone of the weekend by this point. Anyway we found our way across tot he a1 on some really fun roads south of doncatraz. We got to cambridge to find our other mate completely unprepared so we used the rest of the night trying to wire in a sat nav to his 675.
6am start saturday and a bit of an irresposible run down to folkstone got us onto the chunnel on time ready to meet my mates father in law in calais to ride down with us somewhere east of le mans for the night.
After meeting him and a delighful dinner of slicy bouef we spotted a fuel station to brim up and crack on.... except the daytona wouldnt start at all. ok no problem its not been run for a week or two well bump it and the run down will charge the battery. A quick bumpstart and within 100 metres to the station it was doing crazy things and died again. Triple feck!.
Looks a bit oppressive the ol chunnel
Breakdown no1
after a run around and somesort of broken comunication with the locals we were told there was a yamaha/ducati dealership localish and theyd have a battery. So my mates step dad with a triumph trophy and plumbed in satnav being the 1st choice for pillion ride to find the shop. Only he wasnt confident with a passenger (being 60 years old aswell) and my mate on the binnedit not being the brightest with diretions it fell to me with the stupid r1 and those pillion pegs that took me 3 hours to remove... Great stuff. An hour later of razzing around calais 2 up with my passenger deciding the comfiest way to travel was to rap his legs around my waist as he held a sat nav in one had and pointed directions in the other we found the shop, spouted some sweaty yorkshire french dialect and thrashed it back to the other guys who were by know mighty pissed off. It was also in this crazy time that i turned off a one way street pretty quickly with my mate on the back forgetting the small point of driving on the other side so i had to do a quick emergacy swerve around an oncoming bus.
So Battery swapped, triumph alive lets finally get going. We all decided to follow the trophy as he was the oldest guy and had the sat nav we were all comfortable at his pace, erm well that thing went off like a scalded cat. 100+mph constant until the first toll road. about 60 km out of calais i got stuck behind a women in some road works and i could see my mates dissapearing. No problem i can catch them. As i came round a big sweeper i noticed the daytona on the hard shoulder. Pulled over and tried everyting we could. We thought the sat nav we put in was draining the battery but surely it couldnt of killed a new battery in less than 60 km. The only other thing was triumph apparently just recalled his bike for a regulater/alternator or something which if it was it was game over. Queue going for a piss turning round and watching my mate trying to bump start his bike the wrong way downhill down the hard shoulder and me shouting an hour sat at the hard shoulder my mate and his step dad deciding to feck off and do the 5 hour trip without us, cheers guys. Some old french dude who didnt speak a word of english turned up, pointed at the bike, pointed at his trailer and then pointed at me and just said what i assume was follow. I unhappily followed him through the same toll road 3 times whihc i had to pay and he just sailed through for him to take us somewhere in boulagne or boulagnese i have no idea.
After some wizardry with a multimeter and other things i have no knowledge about it turns out it was the reg/alternator and the bike wasnt going anywhere. My mate decided to leave his bike and go back to england to come back later with a van leaving me 5 hours away from a place i didnt have written down, not the foggiest idea how to get there and no one to hold my hand. I was massively pissed off at my mate for leaving me at this point after id done a 6 hour round trip the week before with my trailer to rescue him he was quick to leave me stranded. After a couple of minutes debating whether or not to go back home and sack it off i decided feck it. its only france i got myself to the nearest petrol station, bought a couple of maps and sat down planning my lonely adventure.
The face of a man realising his bike was kapuut in a foreign country with no foreign breakdown cover.
the french mechanic having no idea what a triumph was. After 10 minutes of him just saying to me who make who make i just wrote it down for him
I can do this. Quick glass of water check of the roads and off i went.
the next part was some of the most fun i had on my bike in a long time. the roads were practically deserted i only saw under 100mph to stop for fuel/caffeine and i was away, Fully tucked in like a t
t but it was the only way my neck didnt feel like it was being ripped open. A fun little play with a porsche carrara 4s with a guy and his son up to 165+ and many tunnels/epic bridges later i arrived at 1030pm to an amazing lottery win style house in the middle of nowhere where my mate and his dad in law had pizza and champagne waiting for me. All was forgiven.where we stayed. Incredible place
The gp was great despite being probably somewhere in the mid 20s and my ginger skin quickly turning into crackling. We were just after the dunlop bridge so we saw all the crashes and loads of overtaking. So far sunday was trouble free....pfft i should be so lucky. After the insane squabble to get out with thousands of other bikers we decided to get about 20km away and get fuel as the trophy and the binnedit was now on reserve...not the trust r1 though. I got 150 miles before the reserve light and 40.1mpg. aha take that sportsbike naysayers. Anyway we pull into the station and everyone else had obviously had the same thought. we were at least 20 bikes back in the queue which was the same for all 8 or so pumps. You wouldnt beleive but as we got literally 2 away the whole station shut down as their software had fudged up and no pumps would switch on. I literally couldnt of made this stuff up by this point. half an hour of every french biker there screaming at the cashiers one really friendly fench lad with some trendy glasses came over and said he could see we were english and to follow him about 8 km to a supermarket with fuel. Result. Loaded all the bikes up turn around and every bugger there has their hemet on and the exact same trendy glasses. I have no idea who i was meant to be following but being the optimist i just picked out one of them and hoped for the best. Luckily they all went the same way anyway and we finally got some fuel. With such a huge amount of bikers we decided to fill all three bikes up with the same payment. I was last so i got to witness my friends dad overfill the banditt spraying patrol all over my mates face. Ha me and about 4 french lads were crying with laughter as my mate was screaming some nonsence about it burning his retinas away and going blind forever. Low and behold 30 seconds later he was completely fine.
The queue when we got there
This is how close i got before the pumps all stopped.
And these unlucky people were all still behind us and all low on fuel.
We eventually got to our hotel south of Rouen which was the rapiest motel ive ever seen. Ive never stayed in a hotel with no real reception and mechanical shutters on the door. This was definitly the type of place that you could pay by the hour.
Luckily the carpark had electric operated gates and a bar that served nice food that opened until 10. Finally a result.
well this doesnt bode well
Push those beds further apart!
After an eventfull weekend to say the least i was happy to get on the train to get home although i was dreading the 5/6 hour slog up to yorkshire having already ridden 2 hours to get to calais, but nothing else could go wrong surely. Well that was a stupid thing to think. As we came out of the tunnel the weather was the worst ive ever ridden in. No problem ill get my waterproofs on and stick it in wet mode.... oh wait i remember sitting at home on thursday thinking waterproofs are for pussies i can handle a bit of wetness for the sake of not carrying them for 1500 miles. After 10 miles at 70mph i got fed up and left my mate and his dad. i sat at a steady 90 and had the most miserable disgustingly wet ride of my life. I sat in stanstead services in a puddle of water for 45 minutes considering pushing my bike over so i could claim id crashed and get towed back home. It was aweful. Ill be so happy not to get on my bike for a couple of weeks now.
All in all it was the most cursed/evenful weekend i think ive possibly ever had but i had a couple of extremely good memories mixed with quite a lot of s
t ones. Would i do it again... probably not anytime soon but im sure i will at some point. But for now im going to lie face down and let my sore arse and ruined legs rest. Hopefully this will keep MTB happy...
Better luck next time. At least let's hope there is a next time.
I know that people have to save money but if I had to choose it wouldn't be in skimping on break down cover. You don't need it very often (or perhaps not at all), but if you do need it, it makes a really st situation just about bearable.
Better luck next time. At least let's hope there is a next time.
I know that people have to save money but if I had to choose it wouldn't be in skimping on break down cover. You don't need it very often (or perhaps not at all), but if you do need it, it makes a really s
t situation just about bearable. There'll definitly be more foreign adventures. I just dont think id do a foreign gp the same though. Next time id just rent a camper van and camp in the track with it so i had all the things to enjoy it more. Ill definitly go abroad on my bike again to explore and find roads but as a means of just getting somewhere to walk around in leather pants and then 700 miles home it wasnt the greatest form of transport.
Sorry to hear of your bad trip,
Just got back from Le Mans yesterday and have to say it was an excellent weekend away with the mates even got sunburn watching the racing sat in the last stand at the end of the start finish straight.
From experience we filled up with fuel before the Sunday racing as having experienced the queues in the past we know how long it can take to get filled up when heading away from the track after the racing.
Was a shock to get of the chunnel train into torrential rain all the way back up the M1 but the sun came out as we came up the M6 into Lancashire just in time to welcome us home.
Already looking forward to our next euro trip.
Just got back from Le Mans yesterday and have to say it was an excellent weekend away with the mates even got sunburn watching the racing sat in the last stand at the end of the start finish straight.
From experience we filled up with fuel before the Sunday racing as having experienced the queues in the past we know how long it can take to get filled up when heading away from the track after the racing.
Was a shock to get of the chunnel train into torrential rain all the way back up the M1 but the sun came out as we came up the M6 into Lancashire just in time to welcome us home.
Already looking forward to our next euro trip.
Tim85 said:
There'll definitly be more foreign adventures. I just dont think id do a foreign gp the same though. Next time id just rent a camper van and camp in the track with it so i had all the things to enjoy it more. Ill definitly go abroad on my bike again to explore and find roads but as a means of just getting somewhere to walk around in leather pants and then 700 miles home it wasnt the greatest form of transport.
Tim, great story ....for all the wrong reasons ( well, mostly ) , trust me, there are other ways of doing it .....we shall speak in the future.Reminds me , I must post up a few pics from France recently too as per the tyre ( M7RR thread ) - you nearly got to test them then...! See you - Graham.
its not a bike trip unless it all goes tits up!
I had a puncture in Germany couple years back, no probs I thought I have a tin of foam. Used the plastic valve remover which snapped the lugs in the valve so no chance of getting it out. No probs I thought. its Friday and i'll take it to a bike shop sat morn to sort. Got st faced on fri night as you do and sat morn tried to find a tyre shop...nothing opens at the weekend in Germany !! cue a weekend without my mates who sodded off to Austria laughing...
Had a flat out run across Germany Monday to meet them and from now on I've carried a metal valve remover. Lesson learned
I had a puncture in Germany couple years back, no probs I thought I have a tin of foam. Used the plastic valve remover which snapped the lugs in the valve so no chance of getting it out. No probs I thought. its Friday and i'll take it to a bike shop sat morn to sort. Got s
t faced on fri night as you do and sat morn tried to find a tyre shop...nothing opens at the weekend in Germany !! cue a weekend without my mates who sodded off to Austria laughing...Had a flat out run across Germany Monday to meet them and from now on I've carried a metal valve remover. Lesson learned
Sounds like my Daytona at the moment! But i've had the reg/rec recall and I think it's fine.
The tell-tale sign was that it all started to go weird when you got it running after bumping it. When you're struggling to start it and the clocks are going barmy when you get it going, in my experience it's always the regulator/rectifier.
Good write-up - sounds fun really, a trip to remember!
The tell-tale sign was that it all started to go weird when you got it running after bumping it. When you're struggling to start it and the clocks are going barmy when you get it going, in my experience it's always the regulator/rectifier.
Good write-up - sounds fun really, a trip to remember!
I did a trip like that over a week end with a biker who was woefully unprepared... No cover, crap bike kept having battery issue and refusing to start. Pushing the thing for ages on a very hot day with full leathers until the damn thing dared start again. Right royal pain in the backside.
We were supposed to go round the Ardennes' WW sites and roads and did nothing whilst we got the bike to the local Kawa dealer.
He ended up having to ride back on the back of my other mate's GS and leave the bike in France whilst it was being sorted and come back with a van to fetch it.
One hour! That's as much as I'll give up now; until they call RAC/AA/ADAC and make sure they get sorted. Life's too short and bikey week ends are to few and far between to faf about with duff bikes.
Good story though.
We were supposed to go round the Ardennes' WW sites and roads and did nothing whilst we got the bike to the local Kawa dealer.
He ended up having to ride back on the back of my other mate's GS and leave the bike in France whilst it was being sorted and come back with a van to fetch it.
One hour! That's as much as I'll give up now; until they call RAC/AA/ADAC and make sure they get sorted. Life's too short and bikey week ends are to few and far between to faf about with duff bikes.
Good story though.
That does sound rubbish. I'd like to go and see a MotoGP race, and if I was going to see one it would be Le Mans that I'd like to see, but no way would I go on a bike. I'm a little further north from you (Newcastle) but the idea of riding down all those motorways and autoroutes just sounds dull. I'd sooner do a roadtrip in the car with my mates.
One of my mates is super keen about taking his bike everywhere whenever we talk about going to a bike-related event, like the bike show at the NEC for example. Newcastle to Birmingham isn't exactly a thrill a minute route.
One of my mates is super keen about taking his bike everywhere whenever we talk about going to a bike-related event, like the bike show at the NEC for example. Newcastle to Birmingham isn't exactly a thrill a minute route.
Mastodon2 said:
That does sound rubbish. I'd like to go and see a MotoGP race, and if I was going to see one it would be Le Mans that I'd like to see, but no way would I go on a bike. I'm a little further north from you (Newcastle) but the idea of riding down all those motorways and autoroutes just sounds dull. I'd sooner do a roadtrip in the car with my mates.
One of my mates is super keen about taking his bike everywhere whenever we talk about going to a bike-related event, like the bike show at the NEC for example. Newcastle to Birmingham isn't exactly a thrill a minute route.
Bike adventures are awesome, if left mostly unplanned and with enough time to explore/enjoy any good roads. When you have a specific route of motorways with something to do at the end then a car wins for me hands down. One of my mates is super keen about taking his bike everywhere whenever we talk about going to a bike-related event, like the bike show at the NEC for example. Newcastle to Birmingham isn't exactly a thrill a minute route.
Sitting at le mans in 25ish degrees in full leathers trying to eat a €10 wiener to look over to the group of lads next to me with chairs, mats, ice cooler,beers, bbq, radio you do think, I'm doing this wrong. still it was an adventure and no hard feeling to any mates.
toxgobbler said:
Top read, thank you. Will be going to le-Mans 24hr next month and shall think of this. That reminds me to check my overseas breakdown cover....
Fill up before you go in! The petrol stations I found quite few and far between at the best of times. But the last thing you want when all you wanna do is get to the hotel is a right ball acheGassing Station | Biker Banter | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff