Deals have been struck, much washing-up has been done and a certain amount of mildly-spurious justification has been brought forth. The result: I have been alllowed to install a second vehicle next to my svelte and - most importantly - black Gixxer. It is (cue drum roll)...a Yamaha Tedium 850.

Purchased for a bargain few hundred of your Earth pounds from a mate at work (the same mate, in fact, whose ER-5 I crashed and subsequently bought a few years back. Didn't crash this one, though. Not yet, anyway). He's going back to his roots by purchasing an original Lambretta, wanted shot of the TDM, which has been playing him up for a few months now. Being a reasonable chap, he offered it to me at way less than private sale price, given that it still - after several trips to the garage - had a mystery misfire going on and was, to be kind, a little on the tatty side.

Well, it's still tatty and probably going to stay that way, given that a) it's a 10-year old Yam and b) I hate cleaning vehicles. However, a couple of days stripping, fettling and testing have identified the misfire as a knackered secondary winding on coil 2. One replacement (£50!!!) later and it's as good as (not very) new. Sage advice in the garage - when you're sure it's a fuelling problem, that's when you know it's really electrical. Thought I'd fixed it with fuelling adjustment after day one, no misfire - out for a quick spin, feeble acceleration and maxed out at 85 mph flat-stick: realise then that it's not actually doing too bad for a 425cc single...
Anyhow, it's a big, fat old thing, the clocks are something like 15 yards away from the rider and the engine's a lumpy torque-monster that keeps ambushing me with a rev-limiter...but it's an absolute laugh to hoon around on. With a bit of luck, my winter hack is now sorted!

>> ex silens nox noctis <<

It's not that bad a bike, to be altogether fair to it, certainly light-years on from the Mk 1 TDMs: sprightly in the mid-range and quite stable once it's pointed into corners. Getting it to face the right way so it can be stable is a bit of a trick at times, but probably no worse than mud wrestling with a sweaty water buffalo. (Not that I'd know for sure about that..). Oh, and the clutch is rubbish and heavier than Spinal Tap on 11.

High, wide and handsome riding position's actually pretty good for seeing over cars, hedges and distant horizons, but it is quite a noisy perch to be occupying. Top-heavy, too, and a bit prone to side-wind buffeting.

There'd be a certain appeal in bastardising the supermotard styling into some sort of Mad Max post-apocalyptic survival machine - at least it'd get rid of all the rusty bits - but the idea is not to spend a fortune (ie any money at all) on it.

I'd call it a flawed but entertaining design, but - you're right - it's not going to be my first choice of steed* when the weather's luvverly.

*Except at the moment, while I'm checking out what else needs a bit of maintenance and upkeep!

>> ex silens nox noctis <<

Anyway, just for you, Hoov - this is the tailpiece. That's probably it for the year, though, what with the weather being rubbish for much more in the way of paint application. Plus it'll give me some time to see whether Halford's finest matt black paint and gloss lacquer survive some proper use (of course, come the Spring, the results of that may mean a change back to plan A: ratbike). Sticker-free for the moment: I'm not going to waste any good ones until I know whether the paint'll stay on for longer than five minutes!

And here, just in case anyone was wondering, is one of my little corners of heaven - the garage (the other corner's the one with my PS3 in...). Small but perfectly formed and packed full of old bike bits, just the way a garage should be.

>> ex silens nox noctis <<

I thought about for a bit - not that much, as bike purchases are one of my more impulsive tendencies - and went back today to hammer out a deal. So, pending only the arrival of a replacement generator for the RF, my Gixxer is shortly to be replaced and we'll see if nostalgia has led me astray. I had a '94 RF about ten years ago: remembered as having a fantastic motor and slightly crude handling. By reference to today's machine that may translate to underpowered and wobbling like a three-legged donkey but, hey, I like a challenge. And since I do tend to bang on about modern technology being rubbish and rider skill being the important thing, it's probably only fair to practice as well as preach!

>> ex silens nox noctis <<

Picked up the RF yesterday and it had me grinning immediately, even in the rain. There's something about a carburated bike that just feels right - a direct connection between rider and engine that bike FI systems have never quite managed to duplicate. It reminds me of when transistor amps first came in: all very clever and sophisticated, but musicians still preferred the warmer, more analogue sound of valve amps. And so it is with this beastie. A very no-frills, low-tech device - basic beam frame wrapped round a sleeved-down GSXR1100 mill - that somehow manages to be a lot more than the sum of its parts. Journos often like to describe them as "underrated" and I have to agree. Styling is a very personal thing: I like the looks, tend to think them as Suzuki's Katana of the 90s (albeit, perhaps, without the same iconic cult following). Steady, stable, fast as you like and with that sultry turbine airbox whine that was all the rage before ram-air howling became the order of the day. Nice. I haven't had the chance to push it to where the handling really shows its limits (probably have to wait for spring for that sort of behaviour!), but at largely sensible pace it doesn't suffer at all by comparison to more modern kit. It's all rather like rediscovering an old friend...

Aftermarket stainless can is on order - those brushed-ally dustbin jobs are one thing I don't really miss from the 90s...

>> ex silens nox noctis <<