Being relatively new to the biking scene, I had not even heard of MZ’s so, when I saw one in parked outside of a dealer’s in
With a rough budget of £500 - £1000 (or more like a ‘yet to be saved up budget’), I was generally keeping an eye open everywhere I went for suitable first big bike candidates. GPZs were an option; an ER5 was the bike I took my test on so that was on the list or maybe something like a CB500. The
The next day was Saturday (only us gluttons work on the weekends), and looking out of the B&B window, conveniently located so I that I could see the local bikers gathering at the shop, I suddenly felt angry and fed up. All I wanted was a nice pair of wheels, and if I was too chicken to take one of those bikes out for a test run, then I’d never get anywhere. I wandered over to the shop to pretend I wanted some winter gloves (that’s actually true, but it was only cover for ogling at butch leather clad bikers). This time I was approached by an older salesman, asking the same questions – can I help, have you seen this and so on. He told me to wait a minute, disappeared behind the counter, then returned with a set of keys. “Have you seen the MZ?” not yet…
Outside he fired the bike up. Beautiful is the only way to describe the sound. Spine tingling. The ‘thud-thud-thud’ of the big single reverberating off the windows of nearby semi detacheds, car alarms on the verge of being set off….. Ok, so it wasn’t quite that level but it was how I imagined a REAL bike to sound. The guy (can’t remember his name, so let’s call him Dave), asked if I’d like to take it out for a run. I most certainly would, but not on a busy Saturday morning in a strange town with a dozen day-glo boy racers watching, and not until I’d found out how much it was. Dave said he thought it was £950, but if I wanted to go back on Monday, about 10-ish, he would confirm and I could take it out. Needless to say, all day I was walking around looking like the cat with the cream.
Delving in the back of the car, I found a copy of UBG and did a bit of reading about the Skorpion. This work trip was getting better all the time!
It’s funny how fate sometimes dictates without you realising. Why else would I have loaded my helmet, jacket and gloves into the car? I had no plans to look at bikes seriously, and didn’t even know there was a bike shop. Still, kitted out I was, and nervous too, but I turned up on Monday, showed Dave my licence, got the trade plate on and away I went.
Keeping Loch Ness on my left, I headed for Drumnadrochit. As the skies opened I thought about turning back, but the bike just felt so planted. Corners were dispatched with stable ease, the uneven road surface with standing water didn’t bother the front end and I was able to get on the power as early as the caravans in front would let me. Experimenting with the gears and oodles of torque (compared to my TDR 125) I jetted past tourist buses without any fear of aqua-planing. I only encountered one small problem on the way; the speedo was in km/h. It wasn’t too much of a problem apart from the apparently notorious section just as you leave/enter Inverness from the A82, which has a resident police car. I thought it was a bit mean of Dave to only allow me half an hour, so I stretched it to an hour and had a chat and a photo op’ with Murdo, the lone piper who frequents a lay-by near Drumnadrochit. I couldn’t quite believe how good the handling was; for an aggressive, punchy looking bike, it was really quite placid, and that was what I needed. Sadly, I just couldn’t afford to part with the readies at this time, so returning to the shop, I had to try and fob Dave off. Although it was within my budget, I had yet to actually save up. The manager offered me finance but fortunately I was turned down or I would no doubt have got myself into something I couldn’t afford.
I finished my work and went home, delighted that I’d sampled such a great bike, but sad in that I didn’t know if or when I would find another that I could manage to pay for. Back at home I spent a lot of time surfing and came up with mzriders.co.uk, where I found the email address of a rather unlucky Mike Paterson, better known as your Regalia Officer. I bombarded Mike with loads of stupid questions about the Skorpion, sent pictures and generally made a nuisance of myself. A contact at CBG did a bit of digging, and came up with some information about how much I should pay and specific things to look for. All of this combined to make me think I should take this opportunity, buy the bike and worry about being over-drawn later. Being somewhat cynical, I’m of the opinion that any woman who buys a motorbike is going to be conned, so I paid my next visit to the dealer with a man in tow. John took the front seat, I climbed on the pillion perch and off we went. A warning would have been nice when John was testing the brakes. They worked, so much so that John’s manhood was in danger of being impaled on the tank. We parked up and checked things such as tyres, chain, sprocket, small scuffs and scratches. The engine was listened to rather intently, making me nervous in case he detected anything. It has to be said, although John had my best interests at heart, he was very much against the purchase of the Skorpion. Being a big single with 30K on the clock and only 10 years old, he was worried about old wives’ tales of bearings and bits blowing up. Much to his disappointment though, he couldn’t find anything wrong with the bike, other than a cracked speedo cable, a missing screen (it was there on my initial test) and a slight reluctance to fire up when warm. Cutting a longer story shorter, we went back to the shop, I offered the dealer £900 cash and he laughed. I pointed out the missing screen and he denied that there had ever been one, metaphorically patting me on the head. Oops Mr Dealer, silly thing to do. I had taken a picture last time, and guess what was blindingly obvious? Yes, a nice little screen. He then tried to tell me that someone else had taken the bike out and it had got cracked so they had taken it off. John asked if we could see it, to which Dave replied that they threw it away because it was too damaged to use! Talk about digging yourself a hole. After many attempts to get the price down, or to get a basic service included in the deal we failed miserably. Dealer Dave knew he had us; we’d travelled over 90miles to see the bike, with a return 90mile trip to look forward to. So the diddle was done, John was £50 lighter as I had cleared out my three bank accounts to get to £900, and because it would take at least a day to fit a new cable and not give it a service, I had to return the next weekend. Needless to say the intervening days were unbearable, but the first ride back from Inverness was tops. Not even the dull train trip north could dampen my spirits, especially as I had most of the carriage to myself. I guess the leathers and spiky hair may have put some people off!
Moving on five months, I have only been able to put a few hundred extra miles on the clock. You know all usual things that get in the way; weather, work, money (lack of). I have only had one problem so far, which was when I hauled it out of hibernation to find it gushing petrol after an attempt to start up. I charged the battery (must get one of those Optimate things), connected it, turned the ignition on and the tacho needle went flying off the scale. Slightly worried, I thrummed the starter and after a few goes it caught. Gradually the tacho calmed down, and after a ‘once over’ it was back to the shed. I nipped back out half an hour later and caught a whiff of petrol that would have felled a Grizzly. Big puddle. Big danger too. Having no idea what had happened, I quickly posted a plea on aberdeenbikers.co.uk and the general consensus was a sticky float, or had I undone something? Me? No…On this occasion I hadn’t, actually. As petrol was still dribbling out of the overflow pipe, I’d put a tray underneath and did what people recommended - had a ‘look’ at the carb. Oh yes, there it is. Hmmmm. Think I’ll just leave it there. I don’t mind poking around with the carb on my Bulto, but when it comes to a more modern hi-tech and probably computerised model it’s a no-no. In such cases, after ‘looking’ at the offending item, I find great peace and relaxation in going indoors for a chocolate biscuit or two, and upon returning to the shed the problem might have fixed itself. Magic, eh? I reckon after moving the bike around a bit fiddling in the spark plug area for something to do (didn’t realise it was buried quite so deep in the engine) the sticky float must have un-stuck itself.
All I need now is a suitable screen, a set of tyres and of course, that service so I can chalk up a few miles. I’m also looking into luggage options, nothing fancy, just a tail pack or soft panniers perhaps. Oh, and some evening classes in “How to put your bike on the centre stand”!
- Gorgeous Biker Chick http://www.gorgeousbikerchick.blogspot.com/
