A Honda C90 Weekend

Ride Date - August 2026

By Bogger

A couple of times a year the lads and some lasses have a weekend away camping on the C90s. Other bikes are welcome. One of the campsites we use is in Diss, Norfolk and for the other 'do' later in the year we head either to the Isle of Wight or Lymington. This year in August it was Lymington's turn. There's usually between fifteen and twenty like minded fools, sorry, souls in attendance. It's always a good weekend away with much mirth and merriment, a bit of drinking and a couple of ride outs. 

Earlier in the year on the Diss weekend - on the run out on the Saturday, we visited David Silvers and went around his Honda museum. It's well worth a visit. As it was his 'open day' the museum entry was FOC, bonus.

David Silvers Museum (Diss trip).

Myself and Pete wanted to make a slightly longer weekend of it in Lymington, as it's a fair trek down there. For me it's 247 miles. We were to set off on the Thursday and stay in Lymington, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night and come back home on Sunday.

I was looking to ride down on my C125 Super Cub. The preceding weekend I opened the shed to give the bike the once over. As I was wheeling it out I heard a sniff and a sob from further inside the shed? I turned the light on and there was the venerable 1989 C90 quietly crying to itself. Honest. I gave it a pat and said 'righty ho old boy, let's get you out and get you sorted'. I've never seen a bike so happy. I put the now sulking C125 away again. 

There was nothing to really prep on the C90, but I went through the pre ride rituals and all was well. On Wednesday I loaded it up with the camping gear etc and I'm sure I heard an audible grunt. Just wait till I get aboard pal.

I was away for 7.50am on the Thursday morning. Pete said to be at his place for about 11.00am. I merged onto the M6 at junction 22 and was glad it was rush hour, the traffic was relatively slow. I made my way down the the M6, onto the M56 and then came off the motorway and onto the A49 at junction 10. It's ages since I'd ridden the C90 on the motorway and didn't fancy it all the way to Dudley on the M6.

To be honest I wish I'd stayed on the M6. The A49 and A41 was really busy with commuter traffic and slow lorries. It took me three hours to get to Dudley. When I got there Pete was kinda, sort of ready. He looked at my C90 and exclaimed 'Woaaar, old school.' Yes old school indeed. His C125 was devoid of luggage but running on it's centre stand. Pete why is your bike running on it's centre stand? I'm just charging it up. Oh really?? He loaded up his gear and we set off for the M5, after he had bump started it.

The journey down to Lymington Via the M5, M40, A34, M3 and M27 was thankfully uneventful. The weather was red hot. There were a few detours in the New Forest due to road closures because of the forest fires. The last ten miles to the campsite took us nearly an hour. Most of the traffic was now on the narrow country lanes, which was bad enough in itself. Add in the horses and donkeys lazily ambling across the road, or indeed just standing in the middle of it looking at you, didn't make for good progress at all.

When we arrived at the campsite three or four others were already there. The massive camping field was like a field of straw, I don't think there was a blade of green grass to be seen. We set up, had a drink and fish and chips were the order of the day. It was nice to chill out and relax after a long hot ride. We'd arrived at the campsite at 4.30pm, nearly eight hours riding for me. The C90 never missed a beat! Obviously. It's a C90!

Most of the others were arriving the next day, Friday. We went to bed not too late, or the worse for wear.

Friday the group that were there were up bright and early. Showered and shaved we rode into Lymington and partook of a Wetherspoons breakfast (other pubs are available). We'd parked the Cubs in the adjacent churchyard. That's the great thing about a Cub, they're so charming, no one takes offence. After brekky, myself and Pete decided to amble down the high street and mooch about the charity shops.

The charity shops in Lymington are a different class to most charity shops. There is some proper high end stuff for sale. I have to say at high end prices as well. I don't know how it happened, but we both came back to the campsite wearing our new respective jackets. We looked proper dapper. When I got home after the weekend I proudly modelled said jacket for Mrs Bogger. I got a very, very terse 'You look like a ******g deckchair, how much did you pay for that?' When I told her the air was blue again. She's not one for profanity. I bring out the best in her!! I'll keep out of charity shops for a while, I can't afford a divorce. I still like the jacket though.

Once back at the campsite the others were turning up in dribs and drabs. We stayed on the campsite for the rest of the day, only leaving to once again visit Wetherspoons for a meal deal. The sticky Korean chicken was very tasty. 

Back at the campsite a great night was had by all, chatting, laughing and exchanging biking stories of yore. I awoke very early on Saturday morning. It was still dark at 4.50am. My legs and arms had been badly bitten by insects the previous night and were itching off. My right eye felt a bit weird too. I managed another couple of hours sleep and when I woke I couldn't see out of my right eye?

I got dressed and walked over to the others who were congregating around Fatboy's motorhome. My God what's wrong with you face? Nothing, I'm drop dead gorgeous as usual. I then looked into one of the bike's mirrors. OMG it looked as though I'd gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson. The swelling around my right eye was ridiculous. There was much concern, yeah my arse. I was offered and took an antihistamine tablet. Just before the planned ride out my eye had opened enough to see out of, just. 

Pete obviously had to bump start his bike, the battery was absolutely goosed. He couldn't start it. Give me a push. After about 40mtrs of pushing and it not starting we came to a stop. Is the ignition on? Oh oops. The bloke is a menace. Oh as an aside one of the lads asked if I had a tyre pressure gauge he could use. When he brought it back Pete asked if I could check his tyre pressures for him. I checked the pressures and just shook my head in disbelief. 11psi in the front, 19psi in the back. I've given up all hope with him!

Slowboy had planned the ride out. However after only a few miles we had to stop to take stock. Due to the wild fires a lot of the roads on the planned route were closed. We were getting nowhere fast. Slowboy pressed buttons on his sat nav for a minute or two and we were off once again.

Ten miles down the road we pull into the Sammy Miller museum. We didn't go into the museum itself but had a drink and some cake. I did wander into the inner quadrangle of the museum and spied that the workshop door was ajar. There was Mr Miller himself, alone, beavering away at the workbench. I could see he was engrossed but made my introduction and had a brief chat with him. He's 92 years old, is as bright as a button and still works six days a week. Fair play! I left him to it.

After an hour at the museum it was time for some of us to head back to the campsite. Others made their way to the coast for an ice cream and to extend their ride out. We retraced our steps back to the campsite, we'd been out for about three hours and in the heat it was long enough in my opinion. We only left the campsite to collect our ridiculously spicy curry.

Another fun night was enjoyed. I cleaned and conditioned a few pairs of boots for some of the lads. Yes I'm a really nice (strange?) bloke at heart. We all went to bed a little too late. It had gone midnight. A long ride again tomorrow.

In the morning it was back up to Wetherspoons for breakfast. The others ate, but I felt a bit off and had none. I had just a coffee and about two pints of water. I knew that I was dehydrated. You just knew Lymington was posh by the fact that the early bird customers of Wetherspoons were just eating breakfast and drinking tea or coffee and not ordering five pints of beer each at eight in the morning.

We said our goodbyes and myself and Pete were on our way home at 9.15am.

The journey home was uneventful, thankfully. I'd brimmed my two tanks before we'd set off for home to see if I could get back the 247miles without refuelling. It made it with a litre to spare, That's 121mpg. Just before Birmingham myself and Pete got split up due to a car fire on the M5. The last two hours of riding were painful. My backside was killing me.

I arrived on the drive at 4.45pm, tired and aching a bit. The Cub was running as sweet as a nut.

What a great weekend!

Josephine, Bogger's travelling companion.

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