First impressions, second time round…
You can have a second chance at a first impression. I collected a new Zero S on Thursday —just like the last one, which was written off 5 months ago by a driver who stopped too late at a red light–and I’m getting used to it again.
Compared with my hire bike (I won’t hear a word against Suzuki’s doughty SV650) the riding position feels like I’m sitting forward, close to the handlebars, but it’s comfortable. With new brakes and tyres, and less engine braking than a V-twin even on custom settings, the Zero and I are respectful of manholes and corners (both abundant on Devon roads) but we’ll be stretching our legs with a fun challenge for 2020 from Devon Advanced Motorcyclists’— 20 places to visit around the county (proof required in the form of selfies). As well as discovering the highest, lowest, furthest, westest, eastest, daftest, points of the county, I’ll be interested to explore the range of the Zero across the routes covered. Range is what everyone asks about. Some of the journeys listed are pretty near Zero’s own estimation of limits so I may have to go kettle lead in hand to a friendly cafe, garage or pub owner. Not sure how that’ll play out under COVID conditions, it’s all part of the adventure. Tonight I made a start with a quick run to Tiverton, about10 miles from home. The magic A3072 I’ve written about, and the A396, which follows the River Exe, is no slouch either, especially when the wooded hills close in and you’re overlooked by lovely villages, cob-and-thatch cottages and even a vineyard.
Mostly I’ve been rediscovering the soundscape–electric motorcycles are quiet but not silent — the noise of the wind in the helmet, the strange whooshing of the motor, the low hum of tyres meeting road surface, and an odd little tink! noise at big corners. I puzzled over that a while and then realised it was the ignition keys striking each other as they shifted position. There’s also the peculiar regen braking noise, which seems quieter on this one than the last — but then I haven’t had to slam them on yet. To me, a child of the sixties, the regen sounds like Bill and Ben the Flowerpot men whispering in the toolshed (don’t ask, younger reader) — a sort of murmured ‘bobblobblobblobble’ noise. Best of all, waiting alone at a red light by Bickleigh bridge, I could hear nothing but the noise of the river Exe. All in all a nice little ride — the only fly in the ointment was a fly caught between my visor and pinlock, wandering around uncomfortably close to my face. I didn’t even know that was possible!
