By the time I came to move down to Exeter to study for an engineering degree I had learned something of the trials of riding Yellow Peril. Clearly, I was getting the idea of what my bike truly was so yes, it had that name by then. However, for my first trip down to Exeter I was sensible and took the discounted railway tickets we were offered along with the vans that took our luggage to our halls. Once more, go me! I’m sure I saved myself a lot of suffering on the journey.
However, in the term time where I commuted the 7 miles to uni, I learned the value of having a filter in the fuel line, after I lost a whole tankful of petrol to pieces of dirt that had accumulated in the tank while its previous owner had stored it. They'd made their way down into the carburetor, where they caused the fuel intake valves to stick open. Still, a tank and carburetor clean later, plus said filter, and I was good to go – and that’s when I discovered the superpower of the bike, because everyone who had a laugh at my expense, had their bikes break down shortly after! Justice!! Or was it more?
I joined the bike club at the uni and we had several rides out – with the usual results, but I’ll get to some of those in a bit. I was learning to cope with the unique nature of Yellow Peril and it bothered me a bit less as time passed.
Home from Exeter
Now, this was something quite different. Mum and dad had separated in my first term at uni, with all the usual hardships for all concerned which I won’t bother you about. What that meant was that they were unable to support me financially over my time at university, so I would have to find work.
Fortunately, dad had found me a job labouring at a local fabrication shop. Unfortunately, we were going through pretty much the worst December I could remember and the ‘A’ roads between Exeter and home were closed. I was still on ‘L’ plates then.
Fortunately, however, they’d sent a snow plough across the A303, and there was a window of opportunity, with more snow forecast, to get back home, and no matter what I was going to take it. So on with the 3 sets of jackets, trousers, socks gloves, etc, on with the full tool-kit and complete once-over of Yellow Peril and I was off, no matter what the risks.
What can I tell you? In retrospect, this went far beyond mere stupidity, even beyond complete foolhardiness. I was literally an hour behind the second snow-plough over the A303, snow was, in sections, piled high on both sides of the roads, and despite all of the layers and the hot thermos, I was massively, massively cold. So cold that, in fact, I had to stop twice to warm my hands up (still in gloves) on the engine. When I finally got through Salisbury plain to a garage which was open and had somewhere I could warm up, when I tried to get off the bike, my legs collapsed underneath me and I needed help to get into the service station! There they let me sit down and have a cup of hot, sweet tea so I could warm up and put some fuel in the bike. I was just so, so, glad that I wasn’t a brass monkey (I’ll leave you to look that saying up if you don’t know it, but I bet you do)
If Yellow Peril had broken down across the A303, in trying to fix it I would quite possibly have died of exposure, but I was young, invincible and the was the one time, the one time (at least back then) that the bike didn’t let me down. I was beyond lucky, or perhaps the demon possessing the bike wanted to get back too.
While the rest of the journey was massively easier than that part, I still can’t describe the complex mix of feelings I had when I just about managed to round the final corner and home was in sight.
For the next four to six weeks, I ran both my dad and I into work because the roads were too bad for his car (I could drive on the clear bits) and absolutely worked my arse off at this labouring job, because the alternative was giving up on the degree, at least as I saw it then. Would I make those same decisions today? Not a chance, but then I think we can all say that about certain stages of our lives, can’t we?
Oh, and I had learned at least some sense. When faced with similar conditions to get back, I said ‘hell no’. I got into trouble for that at university but I did get a couple more weeks labouring!
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