HelmetPark
Member
I had an idea to buy a one year old Tiger Roadie in the UK and export it to Sweden where I work. After a few test rides and testing a Roadie and XC back to back, I fell in love with the XC. After countless hours reviewing dozens of bikes online I bought an 18 month old Tiger off ebay.With the help of my aging parents the Tiger was caged and ready to pick up as soon as the opportunity presented it's self with work. Luck was in and a trip to Glasgow with work presented itself. So just to take a train to Wales and ride it to a ferry to Denmark and over to Sweden. Easy or?
I got 'home' to my parents house in Wales on Friday afternoon and decided like all those good travellers to do a 'shake down' (what does that mean anyway?) and did about 60 to 70 miles in the hills in Wales in the rain. Despite the rain I returned with a big grin and a sense that I had made the right decision to buy an XC. Just to load up my gear, some snacks, and a few drinks. Check the GPS and set the alarm early.
Was set to get going 8.30am when the GPS on my iphone decided it didn't want to work (an update from Navigon that went wierd) so an hour later map of UK and Denmark downloaded I still had 7 hours to do a 4 and a 1/2 hour journey. Set the GPS to motorbike for the A roads, watch the mist disappear as Saturday turns into a gloriously sunny day, dream of lunch maybe in Cambridge with the promise of a hot drink.
For two hours the roads were relatively quite and swooping - I was loving it. The fuel tank was soon for filling again and Leicester came into view with the GPS wanting to take me in one side, round the inner ring road, and out the other side. This was the first sight of traffic and at the first major set of traffic lights after series of pedestrian crossings and roundabouts I took a wrong right circled round a housing area full of red brick terrace houses and one way streets.
No biggie I was back on the route within a few minutes and filtering through traffic smelling the fumes of various vehicles, thinking of a stop a warm drink and a sandwich. I came past Stratstones the Triumph Dealer and wondered to myself how many of their bikes I'd viewed over the last few months over the internet. Came to the next set of lights to make a left and noticed there was a very prominent smell emanating from on front of me. I looked for which was the guilty vehicle and realised it was me!
"****!! I looked down noticed more and more what I thought was smoke coming from between the tank bag and bars. My fine mechanical mind made an instant wrong assumption as the lights turn green - that'll be a electrical cable giving out. Best dismount sharpish and remove the suspect iphone charger. Curb mounted, cable pulled out, bike dismounted, helmet off, fingers crossed that's seen to it. Er no. A van pulls up to see if I've fallen off or lost my mind and points out that the 'smoke' is coming from his side and that is when I realised that the smoke was in fact steam and there was a lot of coolant spewing out of the back of the radiator (yes ladies and gentlemen - the back towards the top right centre under pressure). "Strastones is round the corner mate, you want to get yourself round there before your coolant runs out". Right then, mount the bike and instead of doing a uwey I turn left thinking I get round the back. Nope.
So right out of the small industrial areas behind Stratstones two sets of traffic light the right at the second, how long can it take? Thinking the front wheel was probably now showering in it's share of coolant I used the back brake and quite gracefully skidded and sailed through the first red
to the second set of lights (if there is a camera there I will get points and a brilliant photo), the rear tyre was covered in coolant. Now I'm at the second red I cannot see the lights, the screen or the speedo, infact nothing other than a free Spa facial. I turn the engine off to be able to see the lights and have to wait what seemed like a lifetime for green. It comes I go.
Round the back of Strastones I bail off the bike and head to the first mechanic I see. "You have to speak to Rich inside". Ok then, in I went and wondered from one end of the shop floor to the other in disbelief. I find Richard and bloke called Dave
and spend the next 5 minutes explaining I'm on a Tiger XC and my radiator went not more than 50 metres from where we're standing. Que much discussion about me being on my way to Sweden and how to botch a leaky radiator.
Words to the effect "we only got one techy ones the other is on holiday, we've got one service then we can get your bike on the ramp" were mentioned. Together with "we don't carry radiators, we can hopefully get one Tuesday". I'd promised the misses to come back in one piece and the boss I would be back no later than Tuesday. I have visions of catching the train home like a disappointed F1 driver or the stig with my bike gear on without removing my helmet...
At this point even only a few days afterwards I've lost the time line, but there was definite two cups of coffee and a piece of cake. More importantly I think after Richard had been out to see the bike, it was mentioned that it might be possible to take a bike off the shop floor, pinch the radiator and send me on my way. This was about 12.45 so still time to catch my ferry. Met the gent on the ST having it service and told him my predicament and then we both spend much time pondering the disbelief that the radiator gave up outside Stratstones not anywhere else on my journey (where I would have been totally screwed).
About 1 hour later one ST owner is serviced and on his way and my Tiger is up on the ramp. Three grown men look on in bafflement as water is poored in the top and comes out of the back - not the front and how much comes out. Rich and mechnic talked about the potential for a warranty claim but that I will need to be charged initially. No problem for me, I can't believe my luck and that there is still a chance I can make the ferry to Denmark. In the name of my XC a new roadie is sacrificed so 3.10pm she is back in one piece, and credit card is abuse. Very grateful for the help above and beyond and the hospitality, lets face it this is what credit cards are really for.
Oh boy, then I panic. At minimum I'm 2 and half hours away boat goes at 5.45pm and I need to be there no later than 45 minutes before. I ring DFDS and they say they will keep a check in gate open for an extra 15 minutes. I tank up and then no doubt give Cambridge constabulary's Christmas party fund a boost. I get a phone call at 5.10pm to say DFDS are still waiting, I call back - no answer. I arrived 6.05pm......Arse! I call the misses to let her know I'm still in one piece to turn round to see a lot of elderly German and Dutch in an assorment of mobile homes, and towing type vehicles. Hang on there is a sign there that say 'Stena Line'. I ask a german couple when the boat for Holland goes and get an answer to the tone of 1 and half hours time. Ok still enough time to do something with this stroke of luck. Hook of Holland to the Ferry from Frederikshavn to Gothenburg is about an inch on the map. How hard can that be?
I get myself to the passenger terminal meet another motorcyclist less fortunate than myself (a Danish Gentlemen that had also missed the DFDS but was on a limited budget and a knacked Kawazaki ZX10) and get myself booked onto the 10.30pm to Holland. Phew. Find a pub, have a meal and thank godness for free wifi as I download maps for Holland and Germany.
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Some crap tele a couple of beers and seven hours sleep we're in Holland 7.40am. 1030km to Federikshavn and 13 and half hour to do it in for the last boat to Sweden or otherwise a 6 hour additional road trip. Can't be hard right? Two things; I've never been on a bike for more than 4 hours at a time and Navigon doesn't tell you about roadworks, road blocks and diversions (there is an additonal update at a cost and the need for data roaming). Two roadblocks later in Holland and one major diversion in Germany that takes me 30 minutes to cover 10km I wonder if I will ever make it to Denmark. When the Autobahn is clear I've been doing between 130kph to 150kph. The misses argues with me about how slow I'm traveling across Germany while I'm resting some aches and a numb bum. I should be just south of Hamburg by now instead of just before Bremen, and she tells me to get a move on..... 160 to 170 then
Hamburg comes and more diversions through small villages. Pass the port and under the tunnel and despite the traffic the road opens up. Strangely the numbness and the pains fade and I realise I must focus on only stopping for fuel. At the next stop for fuel I pondered if I was going to make the ferry to Gothenburg or have to start thinking about going via the islands that make up Denmark - another 6 hours on the bike. Best get a move on then. Flensburg passed and and I aim to try and get to Kolding , fueling up outside Kolding I now for the first time know I'm going to make it. The sun is going down it's cooling and I eager to get to the port, change some clothes and eat the last of the snacks stashed on the bike.
I get to the port 9.05pm (1 hour and 25 minutes before the sailing), check in, change my clothes and coo when I sit down on a real seat. I get on the boat cock up the first ratchet I try to tie the bike down and get myself upstairs. Slightly full of adrenaline I wonder round the boat looking for a place to stash my gear and crash out. I found some lockers but had no change so ask the lady at the service desk if she had change. She helpfully and very kindly took my gear and gave me a bottle of water - I looked wasted! I found a corner and fell asleep on the floor for two hours. I arrived home 3am.
I have to thank Richard Deeth and the mechanic for going above and beyond at Stratstones, and for the hospitality of all those there
. They looked after me and got me on my way trying to help as much as they could. Triumph has honored the warranty since, and the travel insurance has covered my additional cost. So all in all a great adventure and I've been pumped for days, no one can believe me and I still can't believe my luck despite my misfortune. I'm looking forward to my next adventure but hope it's without the drama. Maybe an Iron butt, maybe not....
Will give a full road test report later.
I got 'home' to my parents house in Wales on Friday afternoon and decided like all those good travellers to do a 'shake down' (what does that mean anyway?) and did about 60 to 70 miles in the hills in Wales in the rain. Despite the rain I returned with a big grin and a sense that I had made the right decision to buy an XC. Just to load up my gear, some snacks, and a few drinks. Check the GPS and set the alarm early.
Was set to get going 8.30am when the GPS on my iphone decided it didn't want to work (an update from Navigon that went wierd) so an hour later map of UK and Denmark downloaded I still had 7 hours to do a 4 and a 1/2 hour journey. Set the GPS to motorbike for the A roads, watch the mist disappear as Saturday turns into a gloriously sunny day, dream of lunch maybe in Cambridge with the promise of a hot drink.
For two hours the roads were relatively quite and swooping - I was loving it. The fuel tank was soon for filling again and Leicester came into view with the GPS wanting to take me in one side, round the inner ring road, and out the other side. This was the first sight of traffic and at the first major set of traffic lights after series of pedestrian crossings and roundabouts I took a wrong right circled round a housing area full of red brick terrace houses and one way streets.
No biggie I was back on the route within a few minutes and filtering through traffic smelling the fumes of various vehicles, thinking of a stop a warm drink and a sandwich. I came past Stratstones the Triumph Dealer and wondered to myself how many of their bikes I'd viewed over the last few months over the internet. Came to the next set of lights to make a left and noticed there was a very prominent smell emanating from on front of me. I looked for which was the guilty vehicle and realised it was me!
"****!! I looked down noticed more and more what I thought was smoke coming from between the tank bag and bars. My fine mechanical mind made an instant wrong assumption as the lights turn green - that'll be a electrical cable giving out. Best dismount sharpish and remove the suspect iphone charger. Curb mounted, cable pulled out, bike dismounted, helmet off, fingers crossed that's seen to it. Er no. A van pulls up to see if I've fallen off or lost my mind and points out that the 'smoke' is coming from his side and that is when I realised that the smoke was in fact steam and there was a lot of coolant spewing out of the back of the radiator (yes ladies and gentlemen - the back towards the top right centre under pressure). "Strastones is round the corner mate, you want to get yourself round there before your coolant runs out". Right then, mount the bike and instead of doing a uwey I turn left thinking I get round the back. Nope.
So right out of the small industrial areas behind Stratstones two sets of traffic light the right at the second, how long can it take? Thinking the front wheel was probably now showering in it's share of coolant I used the back brake and quite gracefully skidded and sailed through the first red
to the second set of lights (if there is a camera there I will get points and a brilliant photo), the rear tyre was covered in coolant. Now I'm at the second red I cannot see the lights, the screen or the speedo, infact nothing other than a free Spa facial. I turn the engine off to be able to see the lights and have to wait what seemed like a lifetime for green. It comes I go.Round the back of Strastones I bail off the bike and head to the first mechanic I see. "You have to speak to Rich inside". Ok then, in I went and wondered from one end of the shop floor to the other in disbelief. I find Richard and bloke called Dave
and spend the next 5 minutes explaining I'm on a Tiger XC and my radiator went not more than 50 metres from where we're standing. Que much discussion about me being on my way to Sweden and how to botch a leaky radiator. Words to the effect "we only got one techy ones the other is on holiday, we've got one service then we can get your bike on the ramp" were mentioned. Together with "we don't carry radiators, we can hopefully get one Tuesday". I'd promised the misses to come back in one piece and the boss I would be back no later than Tuesday. I have visions of catching the train home like a disappointed F1 driver or the stig with my bike gear on without removing my helmet...
At this point even only a few days afterwards I've lost the time line, but there was definite two cups of coffee and a piece of cake. More importantly I think after Richard had been out to see the bike, it was mentioned that it might be possible to take a bike off the shop floor, pinch the radiator and send me on my way. This was about 12.45 so still time to catch my ferry. Met the gent on the ST having it service and told him my predicament and then we both spend much time pondering the disbelief that the radiator gave up outside Stratstones not anywhere else on my journey (where I would have been totally screwed).
About 1 hour later one ST owner is serviced and on his way and my Tiger is up on the ramp. Three grown men look on in bafflement as water is poored in the top and comes out of the back - not the front and how much comes out. Rich and mechnic talked about the potential for a warranty claim but that I will need to be charged initially. No problem for me, I can't believe my luck and that there is still a chance I can make the ferry to Denmark. In the name of my XC a new roadie is sacrificed so 3.10pm she is back in one piece, and credit card is abuse. Very grateful for the help above and beyond and the hospitality, lets face it this is what credit cards are really for.
Oh boy, then I panic. At minimum I'm 2 and half hours away boat goes at 5.45pm and I need to be there no later than 45 minutes before. I ring DFDS and they say they will keep a check in gate open for an extra 15 minutes. I tank up and then no doubt give Cambridge constabulary's Christmas party fund a boost. I get a phone call at 5.10pm to say DFDS are still waiting, I call back - no answer. I arrived 6.05pm......Arse! I call the misses to let her know I'm still in one piece to turn round to see a lot of elderly German and Dutch in an assorment of mobile homes, and towing type vehicles. Hang on there is a sign there that say 'Stena Line'. I ask a german couple when the boat for Holland goes and get an answer to the tone of 1 and half hours time. Ok still enough time to do something with this stroke of luck. Hook of Holland to the Ferry from Frederikshavn to Gothenburg is about an inch on the map. How hard can that be?
I get myself to the passenger terminal meet another motorcyclist less fortunate than myself (a Danish Gentlemen that had also missed the DFDS but was on a limited budget and a knacked Kawazaki ZX10) and get myself booked onto the 10.30pm to Holland. Phew. Find a pub, have a meal and thank godness for free wifi as I download maps for Holland and Germany.
View attachment 7168View attachment 7169View attachment 7170
Some crap tele a couple of beers and seven hours sleep we're in Holland 7.40am. 1030km to Federikshavn and 13 and half hour to do it in for the last boat to Sweden or otherwise a 6 hour additional road trip. Can't be hard right? Two things; I've never been on a bike for more than 4 hours at a time and Navigon doesn't tell you about roadworks, road blocks and diversions (there is an additonal update at a cost and the need for data roaming). Two roadblocks later in Holland and one major diversion in Germany that takes me 30 minutes to cover 10km I wonder if I will ever make it to Denmark. When the Autobahn is clear I've been doing between 130kph to 150kph. The misses argues with me about how slow I'm traveling across Germany while I'm resting some aches and a numb bum. I should be just south of Hamburg by now instead of just before Bremen, and she tells me to get a move on..... 160 to 170 then
Hamburg comes and more diversions through small villages. Pass the port and under the tunnel and despite the traffic the road opens up. Strangely the numbness and the pains fade and I realise I must focus on only stopping for fuel. At the next stop for fuel I pondered if I was going to make the ferry to Gothenburg or have to start thinking about going via the islands that make up Denmark - another 6 hours on the bike. Best get a move on then. Flensburg passed and and I aim to try and get to Kolding , fueling up outside Kolding I now for the first time know I'm going to make it. The sun is going down it's cooling and I eager to get to the port, change some clothes and eat the last of the snacks stashed on the bike.
I get to the port 9.05pm (1 hour and 25 minutes before the sailing), check in, change my clothes and coo when I sit down on a real seat. I get on the boat cock up the first ratchet I try to tie the bike down and get myself upstairs. Slightly full of adrenaline I wonder round the boat looking for a place to stash my gear and crash out. I found some lockers but had no change so ask the lady at the service desk if she had change. She helpfully and very kindly took my gear and gave me a bottle of water - I looked wasted! I found a corner and fell asleep on the floor for two hours. I arrived home 3am.
I have to thank Richard Deeth and the mechanic for going above and beyond at Stratstones, and for the hospitality of all those there
. They looked after me and got me on my way trying to help as much as they could. Triumph has honored the warranty since, and the travel insurance has covered my additional cost. So all in all a great adventure and I've been pumped for days, no one can believe me and I still can't believe my luck despite my misfortune. I'm looking forward to my next adventure but hope it's without the drama. Maybe an Iron butt, maybe not....Will give a full road test report later.
