My motorcycling personality

Well, it is nearly midnight …

“What’s YOUR Motorcycle Personality?”
Instant Motorcycle Personality Analysis!

* Motorcycle Personality TestAre you “obnoxious”? How about a “liar”? Any chance you might want to add “stupid” to the equation? (Or, perhaps none of these apply to you!)

* On the other hand, would someone describe you as a “hard-core, motorcycle riding fanatic”?

* Of course, there’s all kinds of motorcyclists in the world. Does the term “inspirationally abnormal” best depict who you really are?

* Do you know any riders who are “bold, adventurous, spirited, philosophical and experienced in many areas of life”?

* Hey, you might even be fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to know a rider who is a “mature, intelligent, fact-filled encyclopedia.”

There’s MUCH more you can learn about yourself in this MOTORCYCLE PERSONALITY TEST. Regardless of what personal quirks and/or insights this analysis will conjure up for you, the only known cure is to ride more…

NOTE: This TWISTED GRIP MOTORCYCLE PERSONALITY TEST is simply for fun! If more than one answer seems right for a question, select the one that “best” applies to you. To receive your free analysis, enter your name & email, and click “My Personality.”


Michael’s Motorcycle Personality!

Hey Michael, below are the results of your MOTORCYCLE PERSONALITY TEST.

This was created and brought to you by, publisher of MOTORCYCLES ONLY, the world’s #1 newsletter for riders who can tolerate occasional motorcycle whimsy — all in addition to news, tips, and practical insights about riding, motorcycle gear and rider safety.
Question 1:

I am interested in motorcycles because:

Your Answer: C1
I enjoy riding


You are an adventurous creature who loves independence and freedom, and are not held back by risk. As well, you are secretly admired by those who wish they could be more like you (and who may also consider you “crazy,” or more precisely, “inspirationally abnormal”).

Question 2:

I ride motorcycles primarily to:

Your Answer: C1
Enjoy riding by myself


You are free-spirited, independent, actively competent and dexterious, as well as quite self-assured. You are a natural leader and go your own way: no one can tell you how to run your life. You enjoy life more than any non-rider you know. You’ve solved most of the primary problems in the world, and if you could spend a little less time riding, you could help get those resolutions implemented!

Question 3:

I think “motorcycle safety” is:

Your Answer: B1
Something I continually learn more about.


You are intelligent and/or experienced enough to respect the concept of reducing calculated risks for the purpose of enjoying long-term motorcycle pleasures. You are a good friend to yourself and to others, and all things considered, you have a pretty good life. You would help another in need (including non-bikers) and represent the cream of the crop within the global brotherood of motorcycle riders.

Question 4:

I primarily ride:

Question 4:

I primarily ride:

Your Answer: B1
When it’s at least minimally warm enough, but it doesn’t matter whether it’s sunny or raining.


You are a serious and seasoned motorcycle rider who not only can’t get enough of a good thing, you are self-secure, competent, hearty, have good riding gear, and quite likely have a lot of good riding stories.

Question 5:

Here is what I think about wearing a motorcycle helmet:

Your Answer: B1
I always wear a helmet, regardless of whether the law says I need to or not.


You balance your freedom and pleasure with practical responsibility. You have confronted the reality that if you want to enjoy motorcycle riding a long time, a high-quality helmet is an important part of ensuring your survival. Heck, that helmet of yours even has the potential to help your family, friends and associates to benefit from your brilliant and entertaining companionship indefinitely into the future.

Question 6:

The “Best” motorcycles are those that:

Question 6:

The “Best” motorcycles are those that:

Your Answer: D1
Go the longest distances in relative comfort.


You are bold, adventurous, spirited, philosophical and experienced in many areas of life. Even though you are a kid at heart, statistically speaking, you are over the hill. You are enjoying life more than most every non-rider you know and your non-riding friends think you’re eccentric.

Congrat’s! You passed the Twisted Grip Motorcycle Personality Test!! Keep an eye out in your email inbox for MOTORCYCLES ONLY, your FREE newsletter with news and tips on motorcycle riding, motorcycle safety, and occasional whacky motorcycle whimsy.

July 4th: On the boat back to Harwich

Well, the trip is over. I am sitting in my inside cabin on the Stenna ship that will leave in a couple of hours for Harwich arriving at 6.30 in the morning. I made it. I made it to Slovakia. I did not have a accident. The bike did not break down (or even hint at it). My toothache went away. I was not abducted by Roma or aliens. I didn’t even get seriously wet though the low points were weather induced. Crouching in my little tent in a thunder storm moving all my pathetic belongings into a smaller and smaller space is not much fun, though made a couple of nice videos. My precious down sleeping bag which everyone warns you not to get wet – never got wet. I was afraid of being struck by lightening though under a tree. I now don’t mind riding in the rain.

Yesterday I set out on the twisty route from the campsite near Fulda up through interesting Marburg to Soest where my cousin lives. The ride was the hottest riding I have ever done, beautiful roads but rather too long and tiring. My welcome by Astrid and Ullie could not have been nicer or more genuine. They had even bought me toothbrushes and shaving soap and gave me a lovely apartment – I mean to sleep in for the night – not to keep. In the evening we drove (in a car which seemed so wide) into Soest to have a lovely Chinese ‘all you can eat’ (which everyone seems to be doing) buffet. Ullie pointed out on the way the blocks of flats once lived in by British troops when they had stations in West germany and now, as a result of some clever policy making they are home to hundreds of immigrants. Germany’s newest immigrant group is Russians and we were surrounded in our restaurant by russians speaking german but, Ullie told me, with a harsh accent. They sang ‘Happy birthday’ in English though. That whole area of town seemed peopled on this Friday evening by rather poor looking and predominantly young down at heel people. I was getting the impression that this impressive German medieval town, with its circular arrangement of narrow streets now housed a predominantly displaced population. However on a short walk around the Centre of town, we stumbled on a wine fair in a small park, packed with stalls and people. So this is where the middle aged and middle classes were compressed. This was a completely different set of people. Over some delicious – unusual to my palette – German wine (of which Ullie kindly bought me a bottle to take home) I stared wide eyed at this crowd of animated people, all looking so un-English, somehow with better bone structure, or more imposing, stylish, better dressed unlike the slightly grey feeling that the English have. (I am aware that the fact that you can’t understand what people are saying makes you assume they are saying something interesting – Mike Carter makes this poit in his funny Uneasy Rider. And in the background, up on a small stage, in the evening sunlight, a band performed a passable version of Eric Clapton’s Wonderful tonight.

Today I packed up (so much quicker without a tent to take down) and took my leave. The ride here to Hook of Holland was 208 miles and took about 3 and a half hours. I felt so complacent and totally relaxed with riding. I had made it. In fact I sang Wonderful tonight in the privacy of my helmet for many miles. Waiting for ferries is always a great place to chat idly to people, to a cyclist from Chester on this occasion and then to a tubby couple astride a 1150 BMW GS. They both looked so heavy on this big bike. ( i am sure the suspension doesn’t sink like that when I climb on my bike.) I was impressed at his control. They had just come back from the Dolomites. This meeting has reaffirmed a craving to own a nice large Beemer. Because I didn’t stash some wine and food, I will have to part with some cash in the restaurant here. I have floods of Euro in my wallet because Campsites were so cheap and I paid for petrol by credit card (it will be interesting to see how much that costs). I have clocked up 2350 miles – more than my whole last year’s riding in just two weeks: 4 countries, only two nights in hotels. Not many conversations, some nice meals mainly in Germany, some lovely places too. I’ve done it.

Thursday 2nd July

I got going early with a fear of a new thunderstorm which never came. I felt very smug having examined the ‘shorter distance’ route that the Garmin arranged for me on my map and it looked like a nice twisty route free from those boringly efficient motorways. However before 10 minutes of riding I was lost and after surrendering to Emily (the name of the Bitish voice) I found myself on what looked suspiciously like motorways to me. I must have been dehydrated because shortly after one stop for coffee and an almond croissant at a service station where all the white ad red uniformed staff were assembled outside for a photograph I felt woozy enough to stop at a parking platz mit WC and drink huge amounts of water and wash out my sore eye (I blame it on the pillowlessness of this trip). Just when I was getting despondent my route took me onto the lovely twisty, empty recently tarmaced roads that I really enjoy; they weave in and out of pine woods, getting dark and damp and beautifully scented, then out into the sunshine again. I arrived at this final campsite of the trip as I did the last one, with a doubting heart. By today I was feeling that I have had one or two more camping days than I really wanted. I arrived at lunchtime with a queue of others waiting to get on the site. The lady running the place only had a few words of English but she directed me to the space for tents. I followed the route past the huge always white mobile homes and caravans to a cute field right away from everyone else and I set up camp in the shade (its been really hot and humid today) and right next to a gurgling stream. This has been the nicest spot I’ve had so far. I’ve even paid for wireless internet access which i am doublful about ever working. For 3 euro I get ein stunde (one hour to you).

I walked up to the nearby town with the fantasy of purchasing some pork, white wine and cream to cook a last delicious meal in my private little corner (by the way I forgot to say that I have my very own park bench – so the chairlessness problem is solved). I found the town extremely strange with a number of shrines and then shops that sold a range of goods that corresponded to nothing I had ever come across. Of course I was looking for a supermarket but a butcher would have done. The first emporium resembling a supermarket sold crisps, warm wine and beer and the rest was haircare products. I replaced my wire basket and kept looking. The only other place resembling a supermarket had about 20 various items layed out in the space that you might normally expect to see 200. The owner was an unamused man with a moustache and long grey hair using a 1960s vintage cash register. Was this some kind of statement? I’m not sure. Ive bought a red pepper a leek, two beers (cold) and some Kirsh filled chocolate. He gave me a box to carry them back down the road to the site.

I’ve spotted the only other Brit I’ve seen on this trip, sitting reading ‘Mystery man’ with his feet up on a red LDV ex-Parcelforce van just up the field. I plan to accost him with the greeting ‘Where’s my parcels, then?’ Also in my field are a sweet German couple, she seems to have had a stroke and was almost speechless when I first tried to strike up my hopeless German conversation as we waited for the counter to open, and another man from Denmark, casually flaunting a colostomy.

Wednesday 1st July

Yesterday brightened up, chiefly as a result of having a heavenly meal of pork in the attached restaurant on a large terrace overlooking the sun setting over the large lake here. Service too was exquisite from and English speaking waitress who gave me an english menus and told me the German for ash tray which I have forgotten now. And today started misty but wit a table mysteriously appearing outside my tent, one of its plastic legs repaired with a wooden spoon taped to it. when i returned from my wash I found an elderly man laying a tablecloth, and when I returned from collecting the crisp bread rolls I had ordered I found a jug of boiled water and a jar of nescafe. I drank some out of politeness before brewing my expresso making (which I later used as a hammer). Sitting in the sun reading then going for a swim in the beautiful lake took until lunchtime but then with very little warning the heavens opened and I crouched in my tent holding the flysheet away from the gradually dampening inside. Water started to ebb along the ground sheet and I made a desperate barricade of my Ortlieb 100% holdall. Lunch consisted of some fruit and much water. It has been too hot and humid to even consider climbing into motorbike clobber to visit the nearby town. I have plotted what looks like a nice wiggly non motorway route up to the next campsite. its about 145 Miles Northwest from here and should take 2 and ¾ hours. The facilities here are beautifully ample and are constantly being cleaned. I’ve had a number of showers today.

A Danish couple recently arrived towing a huge caravan and appearedto squeeze it between two others. Mr Danish handled the uncoupling while Mrs arrived holding a handbag and smoking a cigarette. Incredibly, after moving the care out of the way, he moved the caravan my remote control, including manoevering it into a tight space using a llittle device that my son used to use to race his car around the living room. I was very impressed but find it a little despicable at the same time. It is still so humid here I am wondering if we will have a further storm (there was donner und blitzen) in the night. I have been the only person with a tent everywhere I’ve been – certainly such a small one. It has worked like clockwork though a chair and a kind of pillow will get packed for the next trip. apparently hard-core Touratech sell suitable chairs and this will give me an excuse to buy into this exclusive brand name.

If this site were smaller, with a cooler atmosphere instead of many fat families from Bavaria, with an alternative and not quite yet discovered feel to it, I would definitely return. I am looking forward to getting on the road tomorrow particularly as it looks like a good route. I am wondering how my evening will go with Astrid (I want to call her Astrid Proll after the Bader Meinhof 1970s terrorist) und Ullie on Friday.

Tuesday 30th June

Well, this evening has turned out a lot better than I thought it would a couple of hours ago. I’m sitting in a chair -yes remember those? In a sunny but strange campsite near but not in Regensberg south eastern Germany, about 30 miles from the border with the Czech republic. Lots of miles today in fact 239 nearly all on motorways for a change so apart from one or two not particularly near misses with big trucks, it was easy riding and mostly dry. I thought it too far to go to Regensburg so opted for a campsite about 20 miles nearer right next to the lake Murnesee. When I arrived I sat on my bike in the car park for a while as it was threatening to rain and I was in two minds about staying. Eventually after paying a nice English speaking lad at the reception (who told me about his exploits getting drunk) put my tent up in a hurry and in rather a sullen mood, arranging the opening away from the site and facing the attractive lake here, the place is full of caravans and families yelling at each other (there is an elderly man shouting even now – I think he must do it at home) and someone just belched loudly before climbing into a white van and driving away (thankfully) but the rain held off.

I struck up conversation with my neighbours in a smart motorhome from Switzerland who have travelled up to Poland and around and are returning home with their dog. Having only spoken to him, he was reassuringly articulate (in English) in this rather rough at the edges place. Also, I am starved for conversation with just being limited to prosim, dove and dobre for the last 4 days – which is hardly a rich and nuanced vocabulary. He put together an extremely smart chair and has lent it to me. It makes such a difference. I will definitely pack one if I ever do such a trip again. He tells me he rides a motorbike and recently took a 2 week break to blast around Italy and the Alps. So he understood the ‘I’ve not done culture on this holiday’ syndrome that I have got into. Just covering the miles, loading up the bike and unloading, planning routes is the fun of it. So, maybe I will do this again but with certain changes: find someone to ride with; head for somewhere and stay 2 or 3 nights then move on; take a folding chair; consider purchasing a Beemer  [note on 19/08/09 – I’m collecting a 1200gs tomorrow!]; maybe head for somewhere with more reliable weather like Spain on the ferry to Santander. The mixture of camping and the odd small hotel works well and is cheap. This place was 12 euro. Last night was even less and the first night was 5 Euro. Now, returning to the elderly man shouting: we are not far from Nuremberg and his rants bear a striking similarity in tone and style and volume (if not in content which I cannot understand) to Hitler’s speeches to the rallies in that city. Either this gentleman has studied the tapes of the rallies or is actually Hitler himself. There is a restaurant adjoining the site and I will see if my neighbours want to eat there later. I can order rolls for breakfast before 7pm. There are fatish people riding up and down on bicycles.

German camp sites seem to have a different clientele to many other countries.