Shap to Oban
I was woken from a restless nights sleep by the sunlight streaming through the window and hitting me right in the face. I glance over at my phone. 04:10am. Great! So much for a relaxing start to the week.
The bird song coming in through from outside is on full 5.1 surround sound with the volume wound up all the way to 11. I put my earplugs in and try and get a couple more hours rest. This lasts until just after 6am. It is getting warm in the dorm room. I can feel last nights beer and chips combo wishing to be free from my digestive regions, so that is my first task of the morning. This does ruin the ambiance in the bathroom area somewhat. I have a shower, get changed, pack my things, and make sure I have left the dorm nice and tidy.
It is getting warm by the time I am ready to go. So, I take off my lightweight fleece. It can ride in the top box for a while. Shap is deserted at 7am on a Monday morning. The village where I live back in Essex is a similar size. But, by now it would be filled with a constant stream of commuters heading for London. My only hold up heading for the M6 is a set of temporary road works at the far end of the village.
I hit an empty M6, and head north towards Dumfries where I will hopefully meet the others. The sky is blue and there are great views across the valleys either side of the road. My bike feels a little sluggish as I spot signs for Gretna. It then occurs to me that the road has been climbing steadily for the last ten miles. That may have something to do with it.
Just past Gretna, I took the turn off for Dumfries on the A75. I had been this way before a few times, when I used to attend Aprilia Technical training at their headquarters in Dunragit, near Stranraer. It was normally in the winter though. The road looked familiar. But, the views were certainly more spectacular in the bright morning sunshine.
The run into Dumfries was a great way to start the day apart from a slight moment on a roundabout where there was a large diesel spill. I found the meeting point which was a large Tesco Extra supermarket on the north side of the town, just before eight. I fueled up and parked in front of the store. I was a little early as the others would not arrive until about nine.
I decided to do a little shopping while I was waiting, and so stocked up on a few essentials. With a top box now full of Irn-Bru, blue face paint, and a haggis trap, I visited the café on the stores first floor for some breakfast. I decided against buying one of those "Skirts for Real Men" as they are not the most practical items of attire for motorcycling. The cooling breeze on my lower regions would of been quite welcome though as the temperature seemed to be rising by the minute.
With breakfast and some excellent coffee consumed, I got talking to an old chap with his wife on a nearby table about my helmet camera. He was asking lots of technical questions, and we discussed the pros and cons of Drift and Go-Pro products. He didn't seem like an extreme sports enthusiast, but he was looking for a camera to use on his sea kayak, and his microlight aircraft. Good on ya Granddad!
It was baking in the carpark, so I waited for the others in the shade near the fuel station. Mark and Daz were the first to arrive on their matching pair of red Ducati Multistrada's. I waited on a bench outside the store as they went in for breakfast. Over the next hour and a half, all of the others arrived and devoured the offerings on the breakfast menu. Mark, Daz and I baked in the sun while we waited for the others to get organized. Their was no shade to be found now that the sun was high in the sky. So, we were quite pleased to eventually get going just after 10.
After leaving Dumfries on the A76, Robbie led us onto the B729 across the Kerr Hills and towards the Galloway Forest Park. The roads were empty with just a little farm traffic going about their duties.
Their was some welcome shade from the trees as we approached Moiaive. I couldn't believe the weather. Scotland is meant to be shrouded in drizzle when it is not actually raining, isn't it?
The B729 to Knowehead was beautiful. This single track road across the low land fells was a twisty ribbon of freshly laid smooth tarmac with stunning views on either side. If this was just a taster of things to come, it was going to be a worth while trip.
At the end of this fantastic road just before we joined the A713 to Ayr, an inquisitive field of lovely Highland cattle gave us all the once over as we passed by.
As our convoy entered Ayrshire on the A713 I was pleased that our speed has increased a little so that I could get some air through the vents in my jacket. The road towards Ayr and Prestwick was nice and flowing and it was a great morning, just riding along in a group on empty roads at sensible speeds.
Traffic got a little heavier on the A77 as we skirted around the outskirts of Prestwick, where we stopped at the services just past the airport for some welcome refreshments.
Our route would now follow the A78 along the coast and north towards the Firth of Clyde. The sea was flat and calm, and the ozone laden air filled my lungs as I took some long, deep breaths. It was just the thing to perk me up, as the heat and my early start was starting to have an effect on me.
Arriving in the seaside town of Largs, it looked like the whole of Glasgow had taken a sick day and headed for the beach. It was a tropical paradise with clean sandy beaches, palm trees gentle swaying in the breeze, and a large bronze statue of a Viking warrior next to a bouncy castle! Vikings and the Battle of Largs in 1263 is big business in these parts.
Turning off the A78 onto the A770, we headed to Gourock. Here we would catch a ferry over to Dunoon and meet another member of our party, Eric. He had been waiting for us for a while due to our late kick-off. But, he seemed pleased to see us. He was another Clan Capo virgin.
As we approached the ferry, we were directed to jump the queue and form an orderly line at the front. I liked this idea in Norway, and it makes sense as it speeds up the loading and unloading processes. Unfortunately, unlike Norway we were parked up in a space along the side of the ferry, and then boxed in with cars, and a very homemade looking motorhome conversion I had spotted in the queue. We might of been first to board, but we would definitely be the last to disembark.
The ferry ride gave us all a chance to stretch our legs and catch up on a bit of banter about the day so far. Mark and Daz needed some fuel as like most Italian beauties their bikes liked a drink. This led to a little bit of confusion in the group. Mark, Daz and I headed for fuel as we got off the ferry, planning to meet the others back at the ferry terminal. But, they decided to go to a different fuel station just up the road to where they assumed we had gone.
Anyway, we found each other after a few minutes of confusion, apart from Mark who had gone A.W.O.L. Daz set off to the ferry terminal to find him, and they would catch us up.
So back underway, and now with Eric along for the ride, we took the A815 from Dunoon before turning onto the B836 "Argyll Secret Coast" route. This was another single track road that rose and fell as it twisted its way through forests and finally widening as it crossed some open moorland.
The B836 merged onto the A886 and the A8003 as it followed the coast of Loch Riddon which flows into the Kyles of Bute. The road began to rise as it followed the mountainous shore, eventually depositing us at the Tighnabruaich National Trust viewpoint.
Now this was a view that firmly smacked me right round the chops! It was like being back in South West Norway but with a Scottish accent. Mark had caught up with us again and was busy taking his infamous panoramic shots on his IPhone!
The road got narrower as we headed back down to sea level. The few bits of local traffic that we came across were quickly and politely dispatched with a friendly wave from both parties.
At Otter Ferry the coast road really did become just that. Right on the edge of the water, this single track road was a little slow going in places, but it was a great ride. It would of been a little more challenging in a car or a camper van, with some of the blind corners and crests a bit easier to negotiate sat higher up on our adventure steeds.
Once back on to the faster A819 and A83, Mark and Daz zoomed past and headed for Inveraray. They know this road well, and so went on having a little play. The rest of us upped the pace a little too, and had a great time on this fast, sweeping road.
At Inverary Stu and Chris were waiting for us. They had been there for a couple of hours, as our progress had been a little slower than Robbie had estimated. They seemed in good spirits as we rolled up though. It might of been a different story if the sun wasn't blazing down on the harbor.
After a break, a drink and a few photos it was time for the final leg of the day which would take us to our hostel in Oban. Stu led the way along the coast road with his usual gusto. His Aprilia Caponord 1200 barking loudly with every less than subtle throttle application. Daz and I followed, and Mark caught the three of us up a few miles further on. The four of us enjoyed a spirited ride with the others somewhere further behind. There was only one road, the A816, so it wasn't like you could get lost!
Daz and I got split up from Mark and Stu after getting stuck behind a car on a particularly twisty section of road. But, as we arrived at the hostel Mark and Stu were just unpacking their bikes. We signed in at the hostel, which was a converted church and found our room. It was a dorm room with twelve bunk bed named after girls from the James Bond films. I chose Tiffany Case, the red head from Diamonds are for Ever, purely because it was closest to the window.
After a quick shower and a change of clothes, it was time to find a pub for a well earned cool pint of whatever. Peter the proprietor recommended a pub just up the road, which also offered discount to the hostel guests.
The pub overlooked the bay, and we all had a great evening of banter, food and refreshing hop based beverages ( some more than others! ). I went to bed well and truly knackered. It had been a great introduction to Scotland, but a long day for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment