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The CCM watch upgrade game

‘In the corner of the workshop, Olli Ragbin sits watching events unfold before him’


Power tends to corrupt. And absolute power corrupts absolutely. So said the 1st Baron Acton, or to give him his full name and title, John Emerich Edward Dalberg-Acton, 1st Baron Acton, 13th Marquess of Groppoli. I wonder if his mates called him John the Baron? Guy Richie would have done had he have known him.


Anyway, a meandering way to make a serious point. If you have absolute power over every purchasing decision, then trouble won’t be far behind you. Sure, you’ll show restraint, you won’t leap immediately from a Swatch to a ‘I’ve always promised myself and besides, you only live once’ Patek Phillippe Celestial Platinum Grand Complication. But sure as eggs is eggs, it’s a slippery road and absolute power of purchasing decisions and a missing ‘restraint’ gene means that Patek will be weighing on your wrist soon enough.


CCM’s very own John the Baron has been outed this week. Step forward Ray the Doctor.


Eric and I get ourselves into occasional hot water for compulsive purchases of motorcycles and other such life essentials. Dr Ray this week has thrown a shadow over the pair of us and revealed us to be nothing more than a couple of lower-division amateurs. Since the CCM gang have been together the Doctor has been collecting bikes like some of us collect the morning paper. To name but a few, (all mint condition by the way), there has been the RD350LC, the DT500, I got to the workshop this week, and parked next to Eric and I’s lovely SRAD 750 was Dr Ray’s Triumph 900 café racer, complete with a plate to remind him which one is his.

This week though, the Doctor went all Patek on us. He’s managed to find a Yamaha R1.

‘An R1?’ I hear you cry. ‘Nothing unusual there’. Sure, it was Yamaha’s first proper success in the world of lightweight litre bikes. One of a few models from the big 4 that changed the game when introduced to a world of increasingly bloated sports-tourers. But nothing really to write home about. They made thousands and thousands of them.


Not this one. Not the one Dr Ray has gone and bought. Ladies and gents, may I present the Yamaha R1SP. A homologation special. Only 500 units produced for Europe and another 500 for the states. And that was it. No more. Uprated Öhlins suspension, drop-dead gorgeous gold Marchesini wheels. Subtle blue and black paint work. And the price? Hefty. That’s all you need to know.


Jaguar Landrover. You’ve got to love the brand. But as time and technology have progressed, good old JLR seem to have developed a bit of a rep for reliability.


A German friend of mine has an F-pace in White (he’s a Crawley boy at heart) and since he’s had it, the thing has broken down regularly. CCM are no strangers to JLR products and this week when my 2009 L322 Rangey threw an engine fault, I bought it in to the workshop to find another new-shape Rangie already on the ramps.


Mine was just a manifold air pressure sensor gone west. This newer one had a distinctly ill looking turbo and was in full attendance from both the Doctor and Shrimp eye Justin (the latter was using a big fire torch thing whilst the former was wrangling turbos with the longest spanner I’ve ever seen from my corner of the workshop).


Eric came out with the magical computer and plugged it into my Rangie whilst I made myself useful round the workshop by looking at stuff and distracting the techs with stupid questions.


The MAP sensor was quickly identified as the culprit.


‘What are all the other codes?’ I enquired. About 20 had flashed up on screen. Handbrake this, audio system that, transmission dynamics the other.


‘oh, nothing to worry about, just the usual noise’.


I’ve got a niggling feeling that JLR are just a little off the pace at times with technology. My Rangie is (I am convinced) a hypochondriac. She runs absolutely perfectly, but complains to me at every given opportunity via the medium of a wire plugged into the ECU and systems port.


As artificial intelligence develops, cars will be able to talk directly to us (obviously in the same voice used by HAL in 2001 a space odyssey). I can just imagine the conversation now;


‘Good morning Olli, where to?’


‘Sainsbury’s please’


‘Did I tell you my electronic handbrake is reporting as outside of operating parameters?’


‘er….’


‘And I’ve got an unusual current fluctuation in one of my actuators which controls the…..


‘Can we just go to Saino’s please?' (spoken with eyes closed, bridge of nose pinched by thumb and forefinger).


‘Oh sure….don’t mind me…. I’m just gradually dying inside’….


Trouble is I love the old Rangie and am unlikely to part with it.


My German chum meanwhile is likely to set fire to his F-pace and cook marshmallows on its burning remains.


In many ways this is why we all love older cars. Classics. From a time where mechanical tweaking made stuff work. No laptops required.


When classics are at their best, beautiful design melds perfectly with robust engineering.


This is demonstrated in no better way than by this gorgeous Jaguar XJ-C. The Pininfarina-designed grand tourer first seen in the early seventies and in for a bit of CCM love and attention.


My old metal work teacher at school used to tinker with these and always had one in the workshop. I’ve loved them ever since.


This one is virtually identical to the famous one in Harry’s garage and I think I may be right in saying its V12 was also looked after by the same mechanics at one point in its life.


Look at it… just look at it….This one isn’t going to grumble about its electric handbrake. Its V12 (Jaguar’s version of the Patek grand complication) is going to gently rumble into precision coordinated movement and waft you to wherever you want to go. A trip to Saino’s in this isn’t just ‘driving to the shops’… it’s going to the shops as an excuse to drive there.

Last week’s Standard Eight is ready to roll in the glorious sunshine. Doesn’t it just look peachy. Not sure you can waft in a 3-speed 1000cc open top, but you can certainly trundle with a significant smile plastered on your chops.

As you know, we have our very own factory trained Bristol master technician and it’s always nice when he is reunited with an old friend, a 407 in this instance, running and just serviced.


If I look back over the inventory of machines and jobs that have been through the CCM workshop, I see a massive variety of makes and models, new and old that we attend to. Whatever your motoring pleasure, we can help. The techs love what they do and we all love the variety we see.

I said as much to Eric when we went on a quick test drive in the Rangey to make sure she was functioning ok.


We just happened to stop outside Haslemere Suzuki (our local authorsid dealer) so decided that we should probably let the car rest a little (and no doubt throw a couple of sulky codes at its ECU fault-logging memory whilst it was there). As we were resting there a little, might as well nip in the bike shop to see what they had.


5 miles away Ingrid’s in-built early warning system threw its own fault code.


I can’t comment on any speculation that Eric and I looked over a couple of GSXR 1000s. There is no video evidence that either Eric or I talked to the supplying dealer. I categorically did not instruct Eric to put our SRAD750 on gumtree/facebook. No master plan was hatched. No agreements made. Nothing to see. All pure speculation.


When we got back to CCM towers Dr Ray looked at Eric. Eric looked at Dr Ray. I looked at Eric. The smell of one-upmanship noticed by all.


Will the CCM motorcycle fleet take on a new shape? Will we see more Rangeys through the door? Will Ingrid have hidden Eric’s wallet in the local river (tied to a large stone and hidden in an angry badger)?


Swatch or Patek… it’s a difficult one to call.


From the CMM team, Eric, Siobhan, Dr Ray, Shrimp-eye Justin, Young Chris, Izzi, Ingrid, Jack and a nod to John the Baron, have a wonderful week one and all.


Olli


Ps. Thought you might like to see me in full ‘rag dispensing’ mode in the corner of the workshop. This week visited by my twin brother Harold. As you can see, we’re the mirror image of each other. Harold wears the sunnies just to be different. I think he looks like a berk.



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