Ealing North
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Steve Pound MP Ealing North |
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"Why," I wondered, "is everyone trying to kill me?" June 2002 Riding a motorcycle down the A40 to work certainly makes you see drivers in a different light. Even though I had my lights on full beam in broad daylight cars swung out in front of me without warning and braked as if I were invisible. My mind went back to earlier incidents. Somewhere in the vast vaults of the Ealing "Gazette" photolibrary is a picture of a young Councillor Pound with a leg in full plaster and a look of some pain on his as then unlined face. Although Cllr. Pound has flowing auburn hair and a vivid red beard in the picture he is just about recognisable as the author of this column. The caption confirms that the injury was sustained when a driver pulled out of the old Henley's garage on the A40 slip and nearly knocked me into the underpass. I vividly remember the casualty nurse taking off my boots and shaking out a severed little toe but the worst pain came from the slow and serious removal of bits of gravel that had become embedded in my flank as I slid along the road. Having also been knocked off the bike in Northfields Avenue and whacked into a wall in Mary Peters Drive as I swerved to avoid hitting a dog I could claim to have suffered enough in the noble cause of motorcycling. Yet, funnily enough, the pleasure of biking vastly outweighs the occasional pain. Having not owned a bike for quite a few years I asked the excellent Tony at Bill Bunn Motorcycles to point me in the direction of something fast and flashy for my return to two wheels. Tony knows me better than I know myself and led me towards the motorcycling equivalent of a Ford Cortina. Denied a Fireblade or anything of 1,000 cc plus I settled for the sedate shaft-drive Kawasaki GT550. A good reliable commuter bike, as Tony described it, and one that Marlon Brando wouldn't have been seen dead on. Riding a bike is like - well - riding a bike. Once learned, never forgotten. Within a few minutes I was toe-dancing through the gear changes and re-experiencing the heady mix of sheer joy and abject terror that is motorcycling. I made a courtesy call on the London Motorcycle Museum in Oldfield Lane South but Mr. Crosby didn't even look at my new machine. "I can smell it from here" he growled, before dismissing it as "Non-British iron". Bikers nod to each other, they can park where no car can. You can fill the tank for £10.00. They also seem to be permanently in the cross-hairs of people who drive those vast four-wheel drive off-roaders that are essential in case of a dangerous rock fall on the North Circular or a mudslide on the Whitton Avenue. Overall, biking is wonderfully convenient and exciting. I don't know how long I'll be back on two wheels, but I'm loving every minute of it at the moment - except when it rains! |
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| Disclaimer | Copyright | Designed by Bassam Mahfouz. Promoted by Julian Bell, The Labour Party, Ruskin Hall, 16 Church Road, W3 8PP on behalf of Steve Pound MP |
