Travelling to Tenby

After the last story,  I am sure my two (now three) readers will think that further tales of Yellow Peril would be anticlimactic. Well, not really. Here’s one.

Yellow Peril Rides Again

For this tale, I was travelling up to where mum lived in Tenby. You’ll remember that mum and dad were separated.  Tenby was where she was living at the time, I missed her very much, and I wanted very badly to see her. 

Since I was still a learner, that meant that crossing over on the M4/M5 was out of the question and I had to go all the way up from Exeter to Gloucester and follow the A40.   That’s a 5½ hour journey roughly as opposed to about 3 ¼ hours by motorway.

But I was young, invincible, immortal and all that good stuff, so off I went.

I got up to Gloucester without incident, but then I got these shooting pains in my left leg whenever the engine was at high revs – and given the nature of a bike like this that was quite often! This really really, REALLY hurt! I don#t have the words for how much.

So moved my leg away from the side of the bike (God knows how stupid I looked) and looked down while I was revving the engine.  What I saw was a bit of a shock, when you revved the engine, the whole plug cap crawled with electricity! It looked light a little mini version of those tesla balls you can buy. I’d never seen anything like it before, or thankfully, since. It was clearly lightning FROM HELL!!

So, here we went again. Given that I was in Gloucester it was a relatively simple matter to find a shop, buy a new set of plug caps and install them. I could have done without the expense truthfully but it was what it was. When I look the malfunctioning plug cap off, however, all the bits inside fell out. It was a wonder it worked at all! So off I rode I went making a mental note to add a new thing to the toolkit. Sigh. 

This, by the way, isn’t the point of the story, merely a footnote. 

Sometime later – it was dark by then, I was riding through a village somewhere on the A40, don’t ask me where, when I came across what looked like a gentle bend in the road, which suddenly turned back on itself! No warning signs, no white chevrons, nothing.

Given the lack of handling of Yellow Peril, saying this wasn’t good is a bit like saying smacking yourself in the forehead repeatedly with a lump hammer is ‘somewhat bad’ for your health. Except in my case, where clearly the only risk is damage to the hammer! 

Yes like this

Or try this one for size

Where was I? Oh yes, in dire trouble, grinding my foot-pegs off, on the wrong side of the road going round a hairpin bend somewhere in Wales.

Like this, only not as cool because - Yellow Peril

The thing is, despite Yellow Peril’s boatlike handling, I was going to make it. I was! Then I saw a set of lights coming in the opposite direction. This was the first time that my life flashed before my eyes. I really thought I’d had it.

Strangely, salvation presented itself in the form of an open garden gate right in front of me! So I gunned the bike, avoiding the oncoming car, and came to an absolute screaming halt in a cloud of burnt rubber and humiliation in the garden path of this wonderful life-saving abode, narrowly avoiding smashing into the front door. A true brown-trouser moment. Phew!  

This is close! 

Just to add the last-but-one fillip to my embarrassment, the family was eating their dinner in their front room and had seen the whole thing. They were just looking at me with expressions of what I can only describe as complete shock and horror on their faces. My humiliation was (almost) complete, but at that point, I just didn’t care. I was alive! ALIVE I tell you!

And trust me - so it this (close I mean)

So, I got off the bike, pushed it out of their front garden and gave them a cheerful wave as I closed the gate. ‘Thanks for that!’ I said, as I prepared to ride off. It was then I noticed the biker on the other side of the road absolutely cracked up on his scooter. Now I am sure he stopped out of concern, but he had tears running down his face which I could see because he had an open-face helmet on, and was under a light. He could barely breathe he was laughing so hard. He gave me a thumbs up and rode off into the night. My humiliation was now complete! Thank you, Yellow Peril! Humiliated by a scooter rider!

I am truly glad to say the rest of the weekend passed without incident. Tenby was lovely. I was spoiled rotten, came back with enough food to sink a battleship, a new haircut, and cash for a tank of petrol. The journey back was relatively clear, just the usual timing thing, which was my fault because I didn’t go over it all before I left Tenby (I wasn’t rescued by Hell’s Angels on this occasion) and I was home. Phew!

FOOTNOTE: The Rules On the Placement of Corner Chevrons 

They are normally only used where speed-related accidents have occurred on bends, or where vehicles regularly leave the road due to the severity of the bend. 

Clearly, back then neither had happened yet though I do hope there’s a warning there now! I'm sure that family would have more than been grateful for them! 

I was told at the time that they were only placed if someone had died. I take this as evidence that my bike tried to kill me twice - once by electrocution, the second time by this convenient lack of signage. The evidence for demonic possession was growing steadily.