Tuesday, 7 November 2017

A different weekend

I was left to my own devices this weekend as Mrs R had a Yoga workshop up North so I decided to get out with the camera(s) and snap some pics of Autumnal Scotland, nice couple of nights at Sunart Camping on the Ardnamurchan peninsula then a night with David and Anne at Minard and then met up with Fiona at Port Appin for the night. To be honest I was glad not to be on the bike for a change, it was pretty dreich a lot of the time despite the blue skies in the photos. Still a lot of tourists around and even the bloody annoying motorhomes are still in evidence and still being driven by in the main selfish bastards! It also reiterated to me the fact that our cousins in the North get a very raw deal when it comes to mobile coverage and Broadband speeds, shocking really.
Railway viaduct in glen Ogle (closed in the 60's)
Loch Sunart
Near Glenuig
Storm clouds rolling in towards Glenuig
Rainbow at Corran ferry
Strontian Sunday morning
Glencoe with a dusting of snow
Rail bridge at the South of the Glen
More steam McPhail
Falls of Dochart
Loch Sunart
Loch Moidart
Corran ferry
Corran ferry lighthouse
Kilchurn Castle
Bus party at Hotel = avoid like the plague 
Lismore ferry
Bleak conditions for the last ferry home
And finally a whisky named after David's Norton

Thursday, 2 November 2017

Day out cut short

Thursday and the sun is shining, a tad cold but no complaints for the 2nd of November, I decided to give the T3 a run and hopefully get some Autumnal photos. I was riding down the A702 towards Biggar and then for a wobble around the borders thinking life was good after a slightly depressing week dealing with my Norton rebuild but being thwarted at every turn by shite parts but even the Guzzi gods conspired against me, just outside Biggar my 850 T3 became a 425 single (again). I pulled into a layby and noticed petrol pissing everywhere, of course as it was a shortish run I made the stupid mistake of not taking tools, not even my swiss army knife which fixes 60% of roadside issues. By pulling and poking I managed to stem the flow of fuel going over my hot exhaust, the fuel pipe (which I've never been happy with and have been meaning to fix was kinked, the kink meant the force of the full tank of fuel was forcing its way out of the tap union which I then  found it was slack, roadside bodgery got it going and with no fuel leaks but that was the end of the run, just a return to base. As I entered the Morrisons triangle (a mile triangle surrounding my local supermarket where all the drivers are blind, stupid and suicidal) I was trying to get away from a particularly nasty Audi owner, who obviously has a small penis when I heard a rattle on acceleration, not good, I limped home despondent. Fast forward a couple of hours, new fuel pipe of more suitable robustness and anti kink fitted and all back together, a test run revealed no rattle and a perfectly running 850 again, I suspect the rattle was due to the bodge I had done to lift the back of the tank, the vibration at 3000 revs setting up a worrying noise. All good now, just thought I'd write it up to let you know that at the moment I'm thinking old bikes are crap!

425 Single Guzzi
Kinked hose