Some years ago, I decided that it would be a nice thing to be able to drive a motorcycle. So I got a few lessons, did the theory, and sat the test.
Which I proceeded to fail.
I figured that first time was a fluke, and booked again. However, at the time, the DVTA was in the middle of a bit of a strike, so I got allocated to a test centre miles from Belfast. Where I proceeded to turn to to.
They didn’t accept the paperwork, and I didn’t do the test.
This was starting to get annoying, but I persevered. And booked another test, in Belfast again. And did it on a strange bike.
I failed. Again.
At this point, I’ll confess that I lost the head a bit, decided to pretend it never happened, and never speak of it again. I let the theory certificate lapse, and moved on.
Then a couple of months ago, I thought about it again, booked a few more lessons, did the theory again, and booked another test. For this morning.
I’m happy (and more than a bit relieved) to say that this time, I passed. Which was nice.
Now to leave that part of my licence unused for two years, until all the restrictions are but a distant memory…
Actually, now to await the attendance of some people from the insurance company to see about the scorch damage. But that’s not totally relevant…
There were restrictions during that two year period?
I’m sorry, officer, of *course* it has a limiter on it, what’s that? It isn’t there? Shoddy workmanship, that, it must have fallen off while I was bimbling along at five miles an hour under the speed limit, it is a limit, not a target, you know…
Sorry, are you implying that you didn’t display the legally-mandated R plates?
You know, the ones they’ve never made for bikes…
If you’re going to become a hairy arsed biker, it’s ‘ride’ not ‘drive’.
Two years? Jesus, and I thought one was bad enough.
It always amused me how people at school thought that if they had an accident they’d just replace the restrictor. I never got a satisfactory answer as to how they were going to do that from a hospital bed.
Also: what’s this about lessons? Lessons, man? Next you’ll be RTFMing!
Talking of dead on two wheels, my bike is shut up in the shop at the moment. Went in for a service and they uncovered a plot to kill me. Ungrateful I call it.
As with so many things, it’s not the driving that was the problem. It was the driving in such a way that they’d pass the test. And I’d nine years of bad road habits to unlearn…
By a plot to kill you, I assume you mean something mechanically unsound with the thing? Which would imply improper care on your part…
Lowrider chop after the two years?
Or maybe Honda Fireblade?