My kant van die draad

Last night, on my way home from a meeting in ‘the deep south’, I stopped by Linex Yamaha in Randburg to have a look at the new V-Max. I only noticed the low-key announcement on their website the day before, but I made a mental note to go if I could make it – turns out I could…

I arrive at Linex around 19:30 and there are many cars and bikes around outside, which is unusual for this time of night. I park and almost drop the Suzuki after putting the sidestand neatly into a stormwater drain. Control re-established, I work on composure and stroll inside as if nothing happened and hope that no-one saw anything. I need’nt have feared – they are all transfixed by DaddyMax. I reckon there are about 60 or 70 people around and the atmosphere is tense with lively excitement. Linexs’ guys have put 3 V-Maxes on display under a simple light scaffold arrangement and the effect is to isolate the bikes in the space of the shop by bathing them in white light from all angles.

I approach the V-Max nearest after I stand back for a few minutes to let other guys mount the beastie and I try to overhear what the conversations are about. The new V-Max is a sight to behold. Let me put this to you bluntly – the V-Max does not leave any opinions divided. Whether you love it or hate it, the visual impact will burn your eyeballs. From the signature double-barrel V-Max airducts, which are now finished in brushed metal, to the polished covers and the really mean tail-end, the V-Max oozes attitude like never before. The V-Max has always been a bad-ass ride. V-Maxes are for people who are genuinely too mean for Harleys. The V-Max is the ultimate I-don’t-give-a-shit ride. The first generation V-Maxes set this trend but I feel that the later incarnation was somehow stylistically sort of a half-breed. It was like it wanted to grow up but still aiming to please the bad-asses and somehow that message got lost in translation. This new machine is very different and yet is unmistakably a V-Max – even from afar. That signature “don’t mess with me“- look is back by the truckload. It just looks even meaner and very, very well put together. The overwhelming impression, once you are over the mean appearance, is that all the components look well finished, well put together, and the whole machine exudes an air of quality and attention to detail. The esteemed gentleman’s bad-ass ride then? Well, I don’t know yet.

I get a turn to sit on the thing and I weigh it between my legs. (This bike weighs 310 kg dry) It feels as if the centre of gravity is very low in the bike and it feels remarkably light for it’s girth. It is not a Bus-King, width-wise, but you do know you are on a big machine. I start the bike and it rumbles to life. The trick display under the small brushed chrome screen on the tank says: “Time to ride – this is V-Max” Now, I don’t know who thought that one up, but I am left cold by this little quip. You don’t need to tell V-Max riders quasi-cool slogans, dude! They Know…  Once the engine starts, this area turns into the displays for temperature and fuel. When you shut it down, this message zone tells you bye with: “Till next time” Cheesy.

With the motor running, I notice that it feels remarkably smooth for a big-bore V-four. (This V-Max makes 200 horses!!!) Sadly, we do not get to ride the V-Maxes tonight. I take some crappy photos with my cellphone and curse myself for not having a proper camera here. Other details I notice about the bike are the black anodised-finished forks, not upside down, but with radiallly mounted brake calipers. The brake rotors themselves are of the gigantic ‘petal’ variety. The bright shift indicator to the north-east of the centre-stage tacho  and the quality and comfort of the seat grab my attention. This bike really sits very comfortably and my Average Joe 5′6″ finds everything right at hand, sitting upright and not reaching for anything. The gun-metal coloured exhausts on each side look slightly short and bulky, but just right on this bike. The stubby tail with it’s massively bright LED brake lights is also finished very well, though I overhear some guys say that the plain black plastic and orange indicators do not look right and fit poorly with the quality appearance of the rest of the bike. The concessionary perch for the pillion is just that – a concession. I suspect it will not see much use for anything longer than it takes for your passenger to lose bladder control, anyway. The engine and short X-type trellis braces between the two cylinder banks and the top reach of the frame looks like its all anodised – the quality of the finish is that good. The whole bike’s colour is not quite gunmetal, but not quite black nor a very dark bronze – it’s a fantastic mix of the lot. Typical V-Max, there is a lot of black around, too.

The key is a trick bit. The key blade itself is stock standard, but it sits at the far end of an odd-shaped bathplug. When you insert it into the ignition, it looks, from the seat, like a rotary switch you would find in the aircon controls of a Toyota Yaris or a Renault Megane, i.e. a big plastic blob.  It’s operation is straightforward – turn to start, push to lock/remove. The assembled crowd agree unanimously that this key will never fit into any known pocket by virtue of being such an odd shape. No – this funky key fits into it’s own special holster, which a dude in a Linex Yamaha shirt tells me is inspired by a Samurai sword & scabbard. I am not convinced – it still looks like you are putting your key in a big black shotglass, complete with neckstring-loop, for those difficult mornings after the Buffalo….. These guys really think of EVERYTHING!!!

I can only speak for what I saw so far, but I think the new V-Max looks vastly better than the old one and it feels like a quality ride. Again, the overwhelming impression is one of quality and attention to the finest details.

I find myself wondering out loud if the bold, top-drawer design and execution of the new V-Max was inspired or at least emboldened by the massive success of the B-King. A huge biker-dude in his full colours next to me says: “Well, the V-Max WAS first.” I decide he has a good point and make my trademark exit stage left - swiftly and deceptively quietly.

Now for a test-ride…..

I am posting a picture, and at the same time I apologise for the rubbish quality:

There is some more information, technical specifications and much better pictures on this lekker site:

http://www.motorcyclespecs.co.za/model/yamaha/yamaha_v%20max%2009.htm and also some information on Linex Yamaha’s site, here:

 

http://www.linexyamaha.co.za/ViewNewsArticle.asp?id=59

America:

• “Sausage” is what we would call a ‘patty’ – they mean sausage meat (flavoured mince) – usually pan-fried and flat just like a hamburger patty.
• “Biscuit” is not the proper word for a cookie like your scottish Aunt Josephine taught you – it is more like a large, flattish muffin or scone as we know it and is usually served at breakfast. It is soft, of fine texture and sweetish, dry and about the colour of custard inside. To be avoided if you expect your breakfast to last you through the day. 
• “Half-and-half” is a mixture of two types of milk – presumably sheep and otter. Seriously, though – half-and-half is mixed full cream and skimmed and is close to our low fat variety. It is the closest you will get to full cream as we know it anyway. 
• Don’t take US$ 100 bills – they are too large to change just anywhere and people are suspicious of them, like you are a drug dealer or something equally wicked.
• You can get your coffee at any Starbucks in well over 60 varieties, but it is simply impossible to order just a cup of filter coffee with full cream milk and sugar. It does’nt exist in America.
• When having a conversation with someone, they are likely to say: “I got’cha” It means the same as our ‘uh-huh’, i.e.: “I follow your conversation and please continue.”
• If you order “mixer drinks” – these are things like whiskey and soda or brandy and coke, – you will be given a straw and a stirrer with it. Now, experienced drinkers will know that this is one of the easier ways to get hammered. In America, however, of you shun the straw, you are considered an alcoholic.
• The ‘brandy’ available in America is rubbish.
• Stay away from Yukon Jack.

Angola:

• Take the right passport and at least enough money to buy a visa – if you can get the ambassador to bail you out. Failing that, take plenty food and water, a soft cushion and some reading material – you will be in the airport building detention ‘lounge’ for quite some time. (It helps if you can develop an affinity for pineapple flavoured soft drinks beforehand.)
• Also, bring your allergy tabs if you are allergic to seafood and your blood pressure meds if you struggle to use salt – you will need it.
• Don’t haggle for the price of food items in the market – it is considered very rude indeed. Haggling for the precious ivory statuettes made from poached animal horns is, however, de rigueur.

 

Australia:

• Stay away from the Golden Beach on Schoolies. There are more cops than those hot young bodies you are looking for and you will probably get arrested.
• You cannot, under any circumstances, have a drink and a smoke at the same time and in the same place – anywhere. To be formally ‘inside’ a bar or other establishment where drinks are served, you have to be no more than 2 steps from the nearest exit. To smoke, which you may not do inside anywhere, you must be more than 5 steps away from the exit or entrance to any building. Now, to you and I, this leaves about 3 steps of no man’s land – where you are not taking a lot of risk either way, but can still legally do both. This rule is strictly enforced – beyond 2 paces you are out of the pub and must put your drink down inside, and within 5 paces you are smoking in the pub. Don’t try it – you’ll be asked to leave –regardless of how good you’ve been up till now.

 

Belgium:

• You will get along fine in Afrikaans – they understand it, but people will treat you with disdain. They are all snobs anyway – their idea of fun is probably suicide.
• Do have some Belgian waffles with all the trimmings and do buy chocolate from the many artisanal chocolatiers –  it’s utterly worth it, though the price is perfectly indicative of the quality.
• Do not drink the heavier varieties (dark beers with more than 10% alcohol per volume) of their vast selection of local beers with your dinner.  These will fill you right up and you will not do the food justice.

 

Chile:

• When you order steak in a restaurant, you get just that – steak. Oh, it’s usually very well prepared and it will not disappoint on the flavour front, but the plate will look rather empty without the trimmings that we are used to here in SA. It is much better to order the bistec a lo pobre (Poor Mans’s Steak) – this comes with chips, salad and often a fried egg and some vegetables = much better value.
• The fresh salmon offerings are usually very well prepared and probably some of the best seafood anywhere in the world.

 

England:

• Do try some Steak and Guiness pie in a pub. It is usually a hearty meal that won’t set you back too much and will last you the day.

 

Poland:

• Do make the effort to find and try traditional polish cooking. Not recommended for those with heart conditions, pacemakers, cholesterol problems, diabetes and suchlike. There are Chicky meals at the McDonalds.
• Do try some of the better local vodka’s that Poland is famous for. Belvedere or Chopin, if you can. Do drink it like the Polish do – straight and ice cold, with only a sip of Coke every now and then. After you lose most of the feeling in your tongue and cannot feel your throat, it’s much better.  

 

Thailand:

• Eat some local food as soon as you arrive – that way, your gastric system “flushes” and you spend only one night on the loo. (You can think of it as ‘detox’ if it makes you feel better) After that, you’ll be fine. Trying to stop any of this with Imodium, Buscopan or BismoPep is just prolonging the agony. Get it over with. 
• Don’t, under any circumstances, drink the water.
• Learn to use the special ‘hunching’ toilets – you will have to, sometime.
• No toiletpaper is free – carry spares.
• McDonalds and KFC are available freely, but don’t order chips as you would back home – they don’t have. You will get it with rice. Colonel’s secret blend of herbs and spices? No – more like sticky ribs coating.
• Do not drink too much Chang beer – you will get a hangover of the size that need’s it’s own postal code.

Humour. One word, two syllables. Sounds like: ‘tumour’

My experience with humour is that is holds mirror up to ourselves. Why do we perceive something as funny? I think it is probably a projection of the self that is half of what constitutes humour. We see or hear of someone making a total twit of him- or herself and we laugh because so-and-so is such an idiot. I think what happens is that we laugh from sheer relief that it was not ourselves that were embarrassed in the situation described. We perceive the situation as described in the joke, project ourselves in that situation, and then laugh with relief at the consternation of the poor sod that has just had this embarrassment visited upon him- or herself.

ALIENS AND ANAL PROBES

What is it with aliens and anal probes? Is it illogical to anyone else? That a species so far more advanced than us that they have mastered interplanetary space travel have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than scare and abduct farmers and shove sticks up their bottoms…….. I mean, seriously, have you also noticed the trends among all alien stories? A. They never appear to our doctors, leaders of state, top scientists, SETI, or anyone who is actually looking for them. B. They always choose some backwater local yokel with a one syllable name and abduct him (never a her) C. No-one ever believes these stories because of the perceived lack of veracity of the protagonist.  ’Gives a whole new meaning to moonshine, you know what I’m saying…?’

I bet the aliens that we do hear about, are actually juveniles in any event, and SETI and other organisations who take this sort of thing seriously, should adjust their search strategies as such. Do you also see parables with a 17-year old stealing Dad’s car for a joyride?

Picture this: It is late Saturday night in a quiet suburb of Haltjuhi, just outside of Weartuidel on the east coast of Qartufki. lIfghoux and Bteschaw have had a few beers that their mates from school left after they partied the night before. (beer is universal – must be) They are lazing about at Btes’s computer where they were creating static to send to some sods at a place called SETI a few solar systems over. They found the frequency to transmit on from a shiny plate on a spaceship lying in the local scrapyard. (I’ll translate the conversation for those who don’t speak Ooorghqaski)

Oi, Btes!

Yeah, mate?

You reckon those sods on earth or whatever get all of this?

Dunno.

You feel like a roadtrip?

Shueeeaaah!!!!!

Short while later, they’re in Dads’ Vrakinator 3000 XLS Deluxe for a spin to earth. Avoid the lights or busy areas – find a dark road outside of nowhere. Shove a stick up the bum of some poor sod who no-one will believe afterward anyway, and then spin a few circles in the corn crop just for laughts before they have to hightail it back home. 

I bet those crop circles will really throw those idiots !!!

SHUEEEAAAAH!!!!

(Well, when you put it that way, I suppose it IS possible……)

So, what are we to do if we want to find and talk to these chaps from outer space? Well, our search strategy should include the sort of things that juvenile aliens should want to come and investigate, like girls, beer and fast motorbikes.

Better plan than most, I reckon…

I own a little Indian motorbike that I use to commute to work and back. I bought it after having decided that the Kawasaki Z1100 that I owned before this was not a good training bike and that I like my neck the way it is, thank you. In any event, I joined a Google user group for guys who ride these little bikes in South Africa. I recently went on a first breakfast run for this group. Here is the (long) story as I saw it: 

 

Prelude

On Friday morning, 13 June 2008, the mail came through on the group site. Someone asked if there were ever any runs for Bajaj owners. Through the day, the mails flew thick and fast and by nightfall on Sunday, 15 June all was set – we would meet at Menlyn on the Monday morning (Monday being a holiday) We had a meeting point, a route and a whole lot of enthusiasm. (all you really need for a run) My bike was washed by 16:00 on Sunday and by 04:00 on Monday I couldn’t sleep anymore from sheer excitement. 

 The day

I left home at 06:40 or something thereabouts. 22 kilo’s to Menlyn on the freeway and the sun is not up yet. It’s cold, but the freeway is open and I treat the Bajaj as usual – flat-out all the way. She is not quite warm yet by the time I get to Rigel offramp and I manage all of 86km/h up the hill. From there, it’s downhill all the way to Atterbury, and the Bajaj goes better. Some sod in a VW Polo matches my speed (to check out this little bike so bravely pushing this huge oke, I presume) but gets too close, so I change lanes and leave him behind. By the time I get to Atterbury, I’ve forgotten all about him…

 The guys arrive

I get to Bugatti’s at 07:10, 20 minutes ahead of the scheduled time.  Johann is already there – grinning widely and obviously proud of his silver Avenger, glistening in the weak golden sun that’s just poking it’s head over the hill. (well, over the Golf Pro Shop, actually) We immediately launch into a lively conversation of what we like about our own and each others’ rides. The Avenger has a pretty mean look to it, and I like the silver engine. On Johann’s bike it complements the silver of the rest of the bike very well and the engine looks physically bigger, which is the main thing on a cruiser. The thing is all about attitude and it looks like a comfortable ride just sitting there. We agree to swop rides later the day, as I have not ridden an Avenger and him not a Pulsar. Samuel arrives next on his black Avenger. This is about as mean as a Bajaj ever looked, and there is a lot of oohh-ing and aahh-ing amongst the assembled threemanship. As we sit down to coffee, and the conversation turns away from Bajajes to who is who and who does what for a living, Marius arrives on his black Pulsar. It looks very slick in black – one can imagine a scene from Tron with some trim in neon…

Anyway, we all use our bikes for much the same thing – commuting to work and back and sometimes for short trips around town. In our group, some travel as little as 4 km per day to work and others as far as 80 km per day in each direction. 3 of the Bajajes on this ride is approaching or just over 4000 km on the odo and no one reported any significant problems with their bikes thus far. It would appear that all are ardent readers of the Google group and use it regularly.

Last plans

With Marius making up the fourth musketeer, we finish our coffee and turn briefly to the map of the route that Samuel has worked out. I admit I wasn’t paying a lot of attention, as I was too eager to get on the road. It would be OK – other guys knew the route and what was the worst that could happen if I got lost?

 The ride

After Samuel filled up, we head out of town on the Delmas road at around 08:20. Avengers have fairly small tanks compared to Pulsars – Johann and Samuel reckon about 11 litres in their Avengers (plus 3 litres in reserve). I once put in over 18 litres in my Pulsar! Marius and I both get well over 500 km to the tank on our Pulsars while Johann and Samuel’s Avengers reach just over 300 km. Marius confirms that his Pulsar’s fuel gauge is as inaccurate as mine. It does not move for the first 250 km, then drops to ½ tank by the time you reach 300km. From there, it drops steadily and predictably over the last 250 km to empty for a predictable total of 550km to the tank.

 On the road, we quickly settle down to a pattern where we don’t ride in fixed formation, but swap the lead from time to time. Our little troupe constantly stays aware of cars coming up from behind and then we change our ride formation to in-line, without having rehearsed it. It seems Bajaj riders are aware that they could become fender-fodder on the road…

 It is still nippy out on the bike, but the sun is up and you can see for miles. It’s turning into a fine Pretoria rendition of Autumn Day in all the colours you can imagine. We pass an older couple on a bike with a side car coming in the opposite direction on the way and they both give us a friendly wave. I thought: “How nice… maybe the Mrs. would like that….”

 The route that Samuel has worked out heads north from Bapsfontein and we find opportunity for a quick little ‘dice’ (Nicely settled by the red Pulsar, with ‘gravity – assist’) Despite his assertion that he hardly ever travels beyond 90 km/hour on his Avenger, Samuel is ahead of the group most of the time, and we were generally travelling at 100km/h or better, trailing him by a fair margin…. I guess the speedo is hard to see or something… Samuel’s Avenger is the new 200cc oil-cooled affair and it seems to run very well and very smoothly. The fuel gauge on this Avenger does take the guesswork out of the fuel situation, but Johann assures us that no gauge is no problem, you just learn a deft trick with the reserve tap, and you’re fine.

 

 Stop 1: The four Bajajes on the ride

 Stop 1 – I swop my Pulsar for the Avenger

We stop after almost 45 minutes of riding, well out of town on the road that heads back west. We take some photos and the smokers do their thing. Again, we compare some more subtle differences in the bikes. I ask Johann about the swop, and he agrees, so I’m on the Avenger and he is on my Pulsar from here. First, I need to find the ignition key. It’s at the front left on the frame, almost under the fuel tank. After that is sorted, I head off rather nervously. I was worried that balance would be an issue on a bike as low as the Avenger, but I actually find it rather easy to ride. The mirrors are positioned better than on the Pulsar and I can see what’s going on behind me (not always a good thing, I realise) The steering is light and I think it took more concentration to keep it straight than to turn, which was the exact opposite of what I’d anticipated. The Avenger turns nice and light too and is very predictable. After a while, I settle down and start enjoying the bike. It is as light as the Pulsar and a less involving ride. You really can get quite comfortable on it. I struggle to see the indicator, high beam and neutral idiot lights on the Avenger – the sun shining brightly at this stage. I also find that the tank digs into the insides of my knees a little and the brake pedal feels a little ‘squishy’ in comparison with the Pulsar, though it probably just needs adjustment. There is less vibration than on the Pulsar coming through to the footpegs and the seat – probably because on the Pulsar you basically sit directly over the motor, and on the Avenger well behind it, so there is some leverage effect in your favour. As far as the seating position is concerned, I immediately realise how much I lean on my arms on the Pulsar as opposed to the Avenger. I make a mental note to stop doing that and slouch a bit more in the seat.

  

Stop 2 – the oil-cooled, turbo-charged Pulsar…

At the second stop, we swop our bikes back. Johann says that he was also nervous on the Pulsar at first, because it feels much more ‘edgy’ than his Avenger. He reckons it’s more responsive and turns more accurately. Same as I felt on his Avenger, he reckons the Pulsar feels the stronger of the two bikes. To me, the Avenger feels stronger than the Pulsar at 100 km/h. It feels like the Avenger is still ready to ‘pull’ strongly from there, whilst the Pulsar just screams marginally louder… Go figure. We put it down to subtle gearing differences and leave it at that.

 Marius also notices that the Pulsar engine has the same casing and connecting spots for the oil cooler fittings that Samuel’s Avenger has, so some lively discussion ensues as to whether it would be possible to put an oil cooler on a Pulsar and what benefits it would bring. With no solid conclusion to this point, we head back home (and I decide to keep my devious plans for turbos, superchargers, or just filing the piston flat to myself for now.) The plan is that we stop back at Bugatti’s for a brunch of sorts. As we get back into the eastern outskirts of Pretoria, Johann reckons that News Café would be better, as it’s on the main road that everyone will take back anyway.

 Good things come to an end

We arrive at News Café in good spirits at around 10:30, having ridden well over 100 km. We order brunch and some drinks from a lovely waitress named Amanda. She asks if we are a group of friends who haven’t seen each other for a long time and we assure her that we only met that morning. The camaraderie that bikers share, it seems, comes even at budget biking prices. A few hot chicken wings later and Samuel is looking decidedly unimpressed on the far side of his diminutive brunch order.

 Conversation turns to where we will have the next run and how to make it better. The group structure and alternative web page hosting is also considered, and we chat about other group members. Johann explains the intricacies of mounting saddle bags to the Avenger, and I realise what all bikers realise sooner or later, I guess – you will have to carry some luggage, whether you like it or not. On the Avenger, the saddle bags look very cool and they add a lot of luggage space without adding width. Everyone has experienced a great benefit by having someone from the importers’ side also on the group, as the technical feedback and advice is always speedy and spot-on. 

The four protagonists of our tale: From left: Herman, Marius, Samuel and Johann

 

We speculate whether and when the 220cc Pulsar will come to SA and whether it will be worth the money. Finally, we discuss some dream rides. Now, Bajaj, take note, here is what we want: Go talk to your white-coat chaps at KTM, seeing that you own part of them anyway, and design a two-cylinder, air-cooled engine, made up of matching two Bajaj 180cc motors in a 60^o-V configuration, like KTM is famous for, with Bajaj reliability and simplicity. Put this in a beefy Pulsar and also put it in an Avenger. Make the price in the sub-R 30,000 range and watch them sell in SA faster than you can make them….

 We leave

After a hearty greeting, we each go our separate ways, with Marius riding another couple of kilo’s in my direction before heading off his own way. I find myself heading home, riding faster than usual, and with a silly grin on my face. I had a great day, and felt that I had made new friends.  

Herman

2008/06/19

 

Read more about our group on our web page:

http://groups.google.co.za/group/bajaj-riders-rsa