Went to join friends in a rented house near Southwold this weekend. The outward journey on Friday evening was cold with a hint of snow or rain (which I read as 'sleet') forecast. Silly me. What wasn't forecast was black ice under a dusting of snow on the A1120. The V11 wasa squirming as I crossed the untouched bit between the tyre tracks and even spun up coming out of one corner, sending the back end sideways a little. My nerve wasn't helped at all when the bike squirmed and twisted under me just because I shut off a bit abruptly. All this on an A-road in East Anglia - hardly the Elephant. Things got really entertaining in the back country lanes - I'd taken the wrong turning and after slowing to read a gate sign, lost momentum on a slight uphill incline and spent a merry few seconds with feet trailling and the back wheel spinning and fishtailing on ice as I tried to get to a flatter wider bit where I could turn round. Tonight was a straight blast down the A12/A14 (I wasn't going to risk the A1120 again) but even that was a bit fraught: the road salt was crystalizing on my visor around Ipswich and visibility was appalling. It's the first really cold long ride I've done in years - fair takes me back, it does. I'd forgotten how shit it was.
