Clan ADV 2018: Uist going to have tyre troubles!

Monday 12th June                                                                                                     142 miles

                                                                                                                                       838 Total

I drifted in and out of sleep during the night as it was quite warm in our little dorm room. This years snoring championships had also begun in earnest. Stu was the clear leader, but he had some stiff competition in newcomer Johhny.

Robbie provided some early morning entertainment. He attempted to climb down from his top bunk forwards, rather than the traditional tried and tested reverse ladder technique. He managed the first two rungs of the ladder with no problem. But, as he reached out a foot for the third, he found nothing but air beneath his twinkle toes.

His now large step forward, propelled him at high velocity across the tiny room toward the bunks of Jim and Colin on the other side. Luckily, Robbie had his hands out in front of his face to prevent his nose being the first point of contact. Thinking no one had seen his exploits, Robbie casually made his way out to the bathroom. How I managed to not make any noise while this happened I will never no. I was now crying with laughter.

I decided to get up rather that lie in bed. It was early so the shower was free. I could hear the sea gently lapping the shore and gulls squawking just outside the window. It was a complete contrast to the traffic noise I get at home. Some of the others were stirring as I got back to the dorm room. I made my way to the communal dining room and kitchen where Stu, Alison and two Polish lady hikers were making breakfast.

It seems Stu had also witnessed Robbie's bedroom gymnastics, and it quickly became the topic of conversation around the table. You would of thought he would be used to ladders being a fireman!

With breakfast consumed we discussed our plans for today. Basically we would ride down through the islands to Eriskay, and then make our way back up to the hostel at the top on Berneray.

Robbie elected me to lead so I set off back in the direction of Lochmaddy. It was going to be a more relaxed day today. There was only one main route running the length of the islands with a few side roads to various bays and villages. The A865 main road is a single track road with passing places. But, there are a few shorter sections of two lane road in some of the larger villages. All of the islands are joined with causeways. I assume it used to be a series of ferry rides before the road was built. I was quite surprised at the amount of new build projects that were going on. it seems the island population must be increasing the demand for housing, as everywhere else in the UK.

It was a little cooler today. But, it was just about right for motorcycling. The scenery on the way to Lochmaddy looked stunning in the morning light. There was very little traffic, and very few people for that matter.

Once south of Lochmaddy the scenery changed. North Uist is much more rugged than Berneray. It was blissfully bleak as we rode across the open rocky moorland. It was also a little gusty at times as there was nothing to disrupt wind. 

Once past the open moorland and heading for the second island of Benbecula, I came up behind a slow moving car. I recognized the driver by her hat. It was the Asian lady from the ferry. She was driving her rental car straight down the middle of the road, ignoring the fact that there was a gang of angry clansmen trying to get passed. 

After a few passing places (with signs clearly saying to let faster traffic past), and with opposing traffic gesturing for her to check her mirrors, I decided a more aggressive overtake was needed to get her attention. After both I and Finn behind me passed her car at close quarters, she quickly got the notion to let us all passed. She then pulled back out in front of  some local drivers who assumed they would be allowed to pass too!

The next island  we arrived at was South Uist. The moorland was similar to North Uist but without the rocks. It was just open moorland with the odd patch of heather. There were a few hills in the distance, on top of which sat some large military radar installations.

The southern part of South Uist was a mix of sandy coves and rocky islands. We encountered a few cyclists along this part of the road. The route up through the islands is part of the National Cycle Route, and is popular with cycle tourists. It looked like hard work though.

South Uist was also the home of some very impressive churches. Some of which were very striking and modern looking. Religion is obviously a big part of island life.

As we approached the final island of Eriskay, the scenery changed once more. Eriskay is like a huge rocky mountain with tiny cottages clinging to any flat land available. It looked like a dormant volcano as we rode across the causeway towards it.

The road ended at the ferry port of Coilleag. I parked up outside the terminal building. There were a couple of campervans in the car park waiting for the next ferry which was due in just under an hour.

The good thing about these terminal buildings is that they have toilets available 24hours a day. I emptied my bladder and picked up a few tourist leaflets from the display.

I felt like a coffee. Colin heard my suggestion from yards away and was also keen for a caffeine fix. I had noticed a coffee shop sign back in the village, so we would stop there on our way back north.

Stu mentioned that his tyres felt a little soft, and asked for my advise on the correct pressures. Sure enough they were lower than recommended, so he whipped out his little compressor and added a few PSI. It was then we noticed that a gull had expressed his opinion of the K1600 exhausts.

This guano guerilla of the sky had shot his load with pin point accuracy directly into the top exhaust port of Stu's bike. Top bombing, Sir!

With tyres inflated and guano removed it was back to the village shop/ post office for a brew. This Eriskay emporium sold everything and anything. If they didn't have it you probably didn't need it. But, they did sell coffee......and cake!

We sat outside enjoying our drinks when another couple on a Triumph Tiger800XC called in to the shop. They were stocking up with supplies before catching the ferry over to Barra.

We were also joined by our friend in the red Fiat 500. After pulling into the small carpark outside the shop, she completed a twelve point turn with great protesting from the clutch, and them disappeared down the road adjacent to the shop. A few minutes later she was back again, and abandoned her car in the carpark before entering the shop. It turned out she was looking for the ladies room. And, after a bit of direction from Alison and the store staff she found the way. That was our chance to leave. So, we mounted up and headed north.

Robbie had mentioned a sea loch where it may be possible to spot sea eagles. So, seeing as we would be passing that way we decided to take a look. The B890 to Loch Sgioport was a winding narrow road. A elderly couple walking their pair of Border Collies were quiet happy for them to walk around in the road in front of our approaching bikes. Luckily, no harm was done.

We also encountered a group of ponies as we neared the coast. There were large piles of pony poo all along the centre of the road, so it was no surprise to see them. I just don't know how creatures so small can produce so much manure.

The road appeared to end at a small gravel layby where there were a couple of cars parked up. The track did continue as rough gravel, so we parked the bikes and would walk down to the bay. We caused quite a stir amongst the other people there, as a terrorizing biker gang descended on this twitchers paradise.

It was good to have a bit of time of the bike. It was a pleasant walk down to the bay. There was a steep roadway down to an old wooden dock. A fisherman had driven his campervan down there. It looked like he might have a bit of fun getting back up to the road again. But, he must of done it before as he looked like he was a regular visitor to this spot.

We didn't see any sea birds or eagles. Just a common seal bobbing around in the water. The bay was beautiful though. The water was dead calm. The whole place was very tranquil.

  

After half an hour or so exploring the bay we headed back to the main road. As we headed back to North Uist we called in at the large CoOp supermarket for some supplies. As we stood around talking a large nail was spotted in Colin's rear tyre. The tyre was holding air, but it was something that would need addressing. We had various puncture repair kits throughout out group, so we would have a go at repairing the tyre when we got back to the hostel. 

It was also noted that while Jim had been shopping, somebody had stolen the tread from his rear tyre! There is always that one guy on our trips that thinks they have enough tyre left to last the trip. Last year it was Mark. The year before it was Stu. This year it was Jim.

Here he was on the Outer Hebrides, miles away from the nearest motorcycle shop back on the mainland, with a bald tyre and a fully laden bike. He was hoping there would be able to find a tyre available somewhere in Stornaway tomorrow. He didn't have a plan B.

He asked Darren back at home to get on Google and try and find out if there were any tyre shops on Harris. He had his fingers, toes and everything else crossed!  

With a plan to sort out at least one tyre back at the hostel we got on our way. We took the A892 loop out to the coast rather than go back the way we had come. This took us past the airport and a large military base. There was quite a lot of industry next to the airport for the size of the island. But, I suppose if there are good connecting flights to the mainland, it would be as good a place as any.

My fuel light came on shortly after we got back to the main A865. I knew that if the other guys were not panicking about fuel, then I should be fine too. But, we still had twenty or so miles back to the hostel plus how ever many tomorrow morning until we found fuel on Lewis.

As we got to a shop with petrol pumps outside, I decided not to risk it and stop for some fuel. The other all carried on. I added a tenners worth to tide me over. I would then fill up tomorrow with the others. Right now to play catch up!

Robbie had mentioned that he might call in at the RSPB reserve on the way back ( he denied this when I catch up with him later). I assumed that would be where the clan was heading. The reserve was down a narrow lane about three miles from the main road. I got to the carpark but there was no sign of them. They must of gone straight back to the hostel instead. Oh well.

Spying an ice cream sign in front of the information centre, I parked my shiny red steed and moseyed inside. I bought a large 99, and sat on a shady bench outside. Two yummy-mummies impressed by my bike started asking about my trip. One of them used have a Honda CBR600 but sold it after having her kids.

Having given up on catching up with the others I rode at my own pace back towards the hostel. The road round the north coast was a great ride. Huge white sandy beaches with the odd sheep grazing away on the shoreline vegetation. There were also a couple of new houses being built with stunning views right outside the front door.

The road itself was awesome fun. A series of yumps along a straight section had me getting a bit excited. Well, at least I was saving on front tyre wear, right? I had to calm things down though as just around the next corner hundreds of sheep were being herded along the road. The sheep dog was loving his job running around like a nutter keeping everything in order.

I spotted the others in a coffee shop a mile or so from the hostel. They had called in to see what time it opened as a bistro in the evenings. Unfortunately, it was only open at lunchtimes and weekends. So, it was back to the hostel to fend for ourselves.

Back at the hostel the first item of business was Colin's puncture. Johhny had some super dooper repair kit that everyone raved about on the interweb. So it was given a go. Robbie pulled out the nail in the tyre. This turned out to be a three inch piece of fencing wire. Johhny then inserted one of his plugs. It needed three more plugs to seal the hole. But, the instructions said it can take several to seal a larger hole! It did work though, and Colin was able to finish the week and get home without further issues.

Jim had also been busy. Darren had sent him a list of possible tyre shops by text. It was now too late to phone them. But, he would try first thing in the morning. Jim was now starting to walk funny due to the amount of body parts he had crossed. 

After some food, I decided to take a walk along the beach. Robbie came with me. The water was so clear, and the beach so shallow you could see the bottom for about 30 metres.

But, Robbie and I were under surveillance by one of the locals. A seal was tracking us as we walked along the shore. Every now and then he would pop his head up for a look before swimming on. As the water was so clear we could see him swimming along the bottom looking for shellfish.

The beach ended with a series of steep dunes. So, we climbed up to the top and walked back along the bank. It was only then that we spotted the ten or so campervans and motorhomes that were parked up between the dunes. They were not visible from the beach. Each one had it's own private pitch provided by nature. It would be a great place to bring my glampervan.

Back at the hostel it was time for whisky tasting and discussion of the days events. I had enjoyed todays brief exploration of the islands. But, I was even more excited about tomorrow as I had seen some stunning images of Harris and Lewis online.

Here is my vlog of todays little trip.

Clan ADV 2018: Clansmen Assemble!

 Monday 11th June                                                                                                            345 Miles

                                                                                                                                               695 Total

I woke up early even for me. It was warm in my room despite a good breeze blowing through. I lay in bed until just after six and then got up for a shower. Today was the first proper day of the tour and  I would be meeting up with my fellow clan members.

After making use of the free coffee in my room and devouring a cereal bar, I packed my things onto my bike and got on my way. I was warm in my bike kit already. But, the cooler air flowing through the vents in my jacket felt good as I back tracked a little of yesterdays route to Gretna Green.

I parked my bike up outside the old blacksmiths shop. It was a complete contrast to when I passed this way yesterday. All of the tourist coaches were gone. It was deadly quiet in the village this morning.

I took a couple of snaps of my bike in front of the shop. The blacksmiths shop was made famous for carrying out "anvil weddings" after The Marriage Act of 1754 was introduced. Young lovers would elope over the border to get married often chased by their angry family members trying to prevent them. It is still used as a wedding venue today with couples travelling from all over the world to be married here.

With my photos taken I walked back to my bike. One of the gardeners came over for a chat. I think he was worried I was going to ride over his immaculate lawn. 

I was due to meet up with Robbie and Colin in Lockerbie at 8am. It was about twenty minutes or so to the café where we were meeting. I set off on a steady ride along the B7076. The road was empty. All of the commuter traffic was using the M74 which runs alongside. It was great to have this nice flowing road to myself.

I arrived at the café only to see that it didn't open until 08:30. I waited in the now baking sun for my two clansmen to arrive shortly afterwards. After a quick discussion, we all decided not to wait for the café to open and get some breakfast further up the road. Robbie took the lead with Colin and I following.

We headed in the direction of Glasgow taking the B7076 and B7078 crossing the busy M74 numerous times. A large hare ran across the road in front of Robbie and appeared to be heading for the fields. But, spotting Colin's bike the hare decided to closely examine his front wheel. This gave Colin the opportunity to confirm that his ABS was working perfectly, and tested the durability of his seat cover as his buttocks clenched it in a vice like grip! I was crying with laughter. It was one of those kind of weeks already, I thought to myself. With the incident avoided we continued on with our adventures.

Shortly afterwards Robbie decides to take a European line round a roundabout. Colin and I followed like sheep. It was not until halfway around that I realized what we were doing. I had a chuckle to myself. It was definitely going to be a good week.

After a few more miles we joined the M74 for the remaining twenty or so miles to Glasgow. It was very windy on this stretch of exposed motorway and it was quite exciting passing the bow wave of air created at the front of the large trucks. We arrived in Glasgow in no time. Robbie led us through the suburbs and we picked up the A81.

As we passed through Maryhill, Robbie pulled into the large 24hr Tesco supermarket with a plan to get some breakfast. The carpark was a dark multi-story affair. Robbie was concerned about leaving our bikes here so we rode on.

Maryhill is not the most salubrious of areas in Glasgow. It was made famous in the TV crime series Taggart. So, surely if Taggart was around our bikes would be safe!

As we rode out of the city on the A81 the scenery and roads became more Scottish with each passing mile. Mountains appeared on the horizon, covered by turbulent skies. The twisty grippy tarmac provided a great ride towards our next stop in Aberfoyle.

With just a minor detour down a dead end road with arrived in the village of Aberfoyle and went hunting for a coffee shop. Aberfoyle looked a little run down. I imagine it was a flourishing tourist stop off years ago. There are still lots of guest houses and hotels here. but, the whole place looked a little unloved.

We found a coffee shop where bacon rolls and large Americanos were the breakfast of choice for Robbie and I. Colin decided on the managers special breakfast roll which consisted of the fried parts of many dead animals.

We left Aberfoyle via A821, The Dukes Pass. The Duke Pass was constructed by the Duke of Montrose in the nineteenth century to provide better access to his estate. Today it is regarded as one of the most scenic drives in the UK. This seven mile roller coaster of tarmac gave superb views of the surrounding lochs and mountain glens. Unfortunately, the Highways Department were busy surface dressing and carrying out pot hole repairs. There were large patches of loose gravel in some of the corners which made the ride interesting at times.

All too soon we were deposited onto the A84 and A85 which would take us to Crainlarich. Here we encountered lots of holiday traffic including motorhomes travelling along at 40mph completely oblivious to the train of cars forming behind them. Luckily we were on bikes so we picked our way to the front of the queue and were soon on our way again at a more reasonable pace.  

At Crainlarich we turned onto the A82 to Fort William, where we would meet the rest of the clan. On the way to Tyndrum while passing another line of traffic, Colin had his second close call. Colin and I pulled out to over take a line of three cars and a minibus. It was a long straight and there was plenty of room. As Colin got alongside the minibus it pulled out without looking. The wing mirror on the minibus nearly hit the end of Colin's handlebars. Luckily it didn't. but, it was too close. 

Colin made it to the front of the other traffic without further incident. I was now on the wrong side of the road overtaking traffic and stuck behind an underpowered minibus addiment on passing all before it. An approaching car forced the minibus driver to abort his daring mission and admit defeat. As soon as the opportunity arose, I spared no horses to get passed this idiot and catch up with the others.

The A82 through Glen Coe never fails to impress. The scenery is just awe inspiring. As you ride through the glen you give a real sense of scale. It makes you realise that we humans are just a mere spec on the planet.

Robbie turned off at Loch Leven where we stopped for a cold drink at the pub. It was good to get off the bike and stretch my legs. It had been a few hours in the saddle, so I was glad of the break. We spent some time discussing Colin's exploits from this morning and hoped that would be the end of it.

We our thirsts quenched it was now just a few miles to Fort William. My fuel light had come on and the bike said I had a range of 22 miles left in the tank. The other two still had a quarter of a tank left. I took the lead and headed for the Morrisons supermarket where we would all fuel up and then meet the others. As I rode along my fuel range prediction remained constant. I made it to the fuel station with twenty miles range left! We filled up the bikes and I noticed that I had filled up with less fuel than Robbie and Colin. At least I know I shouldn't run out if I fill up when the other do.

The rest of the Clan were waiting for us across the road outside the main shop. It was all the usual suspects from previous trips. There was also a new Clan member, Johnny on his Triumph Tiger 800. He was meant to be here with his mate Neil. But, he had left just before we arrived in the back of a recovery van. His KTM had slowly expired over the last couple of days, and struggled to make it around the carpark under its own power. We also had lost Darren who had slipped a disc in his back pushing his bike off the stand in the garage at home. We were dropping like flies but determined to press on. 

With a bit of essential shopping done for food for the next couple of nights, we headed en masse for Uig on the Isle of Skye. Here we would catch the ferry to Lochmaddy on North Uist. 

Stu and Alison took the lead on their BMW K1600GT touring beast with the rest of us nestled in its wake. It was slow going to Spean Bridge with heavy tourist traffic in both directions, making overtaking difficult. We had a reasonable amount of time to get to the ferry check-in, but it was going to be tight if the traffic continued like this.

The swing bridge across the Caledonian Canal was closed to let a sailing yacht through. This allowed us to pass all the traffic in front of us, as we rode up to the front of the queue. Robbie and I discussed how slow the traffic was, and that we would need to ride a bit faster. If we rode at just under the speed limit we would make it easily. But, 40mph behind campervans was not an option.

Robbie didn't want to lead the way and asked me to do it. I said I didn't know the way (even though I did), so he reluctantly set off with us all in tow. 

At Invergarry, I thought Robbie had suffered enough and overtook to lead the pack. I am always conscious of riding too fast, so I kept a close eye on my mirrors, counting the bikes so as not to leave anyone behind. 

We were now on the A87 which would take us all the way to Uig. This is a fast and flowing scenic route across to Skye and beyond. I was concerned about the time so I increased my pace slightly from the 55-60mph we were at. 60mph for a couple of miles, all still there. 65mph, all still there. 70mph, starting to loose them. 65mph it is then. 

Our pace turned out to be a good thing. We passed several speed camera vans on the way to the Kyle of Lochalsh. I was able spot them and give a couple of flashes of my super bright LED brake lights to warn the others. We would then cruise past smug in the knowledge there wouldn't be a fixed penalty ticket waiting for us at home.

It was windy crossing over the Skye bridge, with the wind sock standing to attention like Harvey Weinstein at an awards ceremony. Once on the Isle of Skye the ride was stunning. The scenery is different to the mainland, and the traffic was much lighter.

Between Broadford and Portree, a section of the road was being relayed. There was a convoy system in place to keep the traffic speed low through the road works. We waited at the front of the queue for nearly ten minutes before we were allowed to get on our way again. I was baking while we waited under a blazing sky. Luckily the views of the surrounding Loch were stunning.

Once through the road works it was a few miles to Portree where we took the chance to fuel up our bikes. We were unsure of how much fuel was available on the islands. So, having a tankful to start with seemed like a good idea.

It was at the petrol station that we realized that we were cutting it fine if we were to reach the ferry on time. What had been a relaxed day of riding so far turned into a slightly more spirited affair for the remaining 16miles. We arrived at the ferry terminal with fifteen minutes to spare. We were directed to the front of the queues where our remaining Clan member Finn was waiting for us. Finn had travelled over from Denmark, and had spent the last couple of days making his way over to meet us all.   

After a visit to the booking office to collect a mountain of paper tickets, the very friendly ferry staff directed us to make our way along the pier and down to the loading ramp. They wanted to get us all boarded and strapped down first, before letting the other traffic on.

With the bikes strapped down efficiently and quickly and to our satisfaction, the staff directed us to the passenger decks. We chose to camp out in the rear lounge, and quickly marked our territory with all our biking paraphernalia.

I made my way to the restaurant where I made short work of a baked potato, baked beans, and cheese. Jim and Johnny also got something to eat. This meant I didn't have to cook anything when we arrived at the hostel later on.

It was a smooth crossing and we arrived right on time. I got stuck behind an Asian lady wearing a massive hat, as I made my way to my bike on the car deck. She wasn't keen to walk between the cars, as she didn't want to get dirt on her outfit.

The staff let the bikes off first. But, a couple of the clan were tucked away in the corners of the ship. They were soon released and we all disembarked onto North Uist into bright sunshine. 

The sun was low in the sky as it was now eight thirty in the evening. It was blinding, and we were riding straight towards it. This meant that we missed a couple of road signs on the way to the hostel. 

The ride to the hostel was stunning. The scenery of North Uist and Berneray looked beautiful in the glow of the sun. The roads were mostly single track with passing places. But, the traffic we did encounter was well disciplined and friendly. We arrived at the hostel which was an old thatched crofters cottage and barn situated right on the shore. White sandy beach ran along the front as far as our eyes could see. This was a good choice for two nights stay.

Robbie had arranged for us to have one of the dorm room to ourselves. But there were two ladies occupying the beds in each of the three dorms. With a bit of discussion as to whether the ladies would prefer to share together, or with a mixture of burly clansmen, they saw sense and moved beds. There was ample room for all concerned, and some more people turned up later on too.

We spent the rest of the evening catching up and relaxing. Whisky was drunk, and tales were told. It was a great time. We all retired to bed at around midnight tired from a long day of riding and content with our picturesque surroundings. 

Tomorrow we will explore the Uists' to see what they have in store.

Here is my vlog of the days events

Clan ADV 2018: Heading for the border

Sunday 10th June                                                                                                                   189 Miles
                                                                                                                                                    350 Total

I was woken by the dawn chorus at 03:45am. Even though it was early I felt well rested as I always do when at my parents house. It is so peaceful without the constant drone of traffic passing by my headboard that I get at home. I went back to sleep only to be woken by a squawking pair of crows having a good old natter a few minutes later. Earplugs in and I drifted off until I was woken by my bladder alarm clock at just after eight.

I got up, showered and changed, and packed away my things ready to head for my second overnight stop in Gretna. I had booked a cracking deal on Expedia for a room at the Days Inn for fourteen pounds! Robbie contacted me a few days after I had booked it to offer me a room at his house. But, I decided to stick with my plan in case I turned up late so as not to be a burden.

With a belly full of croissants, coffee and cereal I fired up my Italian princess and guided her northwards. Crossing the Lincolnshire/Nottinghamshire border I joined the A1. With some tunes on, cruise control on, and no traffic incidents I was soon turning off on to the A66 at Scotch Corner.

A few miles later I took a left turn on to the B6274 towards Barnard Castle. It was this route north I had taken last year. Unfortunately, I encountered heavy rain and landslips which meant much of this supposedly scenic route was diverted. I only saw rain on my visor last year. This year it was dry so I was hoping for much better things up ahead.

I pulled over to check my route. Lots of bikes were coming the other way. This generally means one thing. Awesome biking roads.

The B6274 looking very inviting.

They should have ticket booths at both ends of the B6274. This road was the best rollercoaster I had ever been on. Riding at a medium touring pace, I still managed to get caught out on a tight left hand hairpin. Thankfully my "Riding God" skills and the Ducati's excellent ABS package saved my arse from taking the route straight on up a farm track!

I stopped in Barnard Castle for fuel. I knew from last year that there was fuel available in Alston. But, I would be close to empty by the time I got there. 

The fuel station was heaving. Tempers were reaching boiling point, as the tills were breaking down faster that the forecourt was being doused in a layer of diesel overspill. I made it out alive and headed into town trying to spot my next turn off.

Now it was time to see if the Teesdale Valley was going to allow me to enjoy what it had to offer after the disappointment of last year. I stopped shortly out of Barnard Castle to have a quick drink and take a few photos of the scenery which was becoming more magnificent.

I took the B6278 and B6282 to Middleton in Teesdale. Here there bikes everywhere. All the cafés were full of bikers, mixing with the hikers and the local villagers. I had bought some lunch when I stopped for fuel, so I continued on. It was time to take the B6277 to Alston. The road with the stunning views.

Just as I was leaving Middleton the showers started. Half a mile later it started hammering down. Not again! Was this road cursed? It then occurred to me that this is why all the bikers were sat in the cafes, and not out on the roads. They knew the rain was coming. 

I rode on for another ten minutes before spotting a layby where I could shelter. It was raining that hard I had to stop and wipe the rain from the inside of my visor. As soon as I stopped so did the rain. It was like someone had flicked a switch. I then realized that I was in the same layby I had stopped in last year to wrestle into my waterproof oversuit.

With my vision reestablished, I continued on hoping that I would not encounter any further rain. I knew the best views were yet to come and didn't want any further spoilers.

Two minutes up the road it had turned into a blazing summers day with no sign of the rain storm I had just ridden through. The views were getting better with each twist and turn of this amazing road.

 

The views were becoming widescreen. Nearly as wide as the smile on my face. It was somewhere along this section of road that all the stress I had carried with me from work and home, fell from my pockets. I felt at ease. I was beginning to relax into my trip.

I must of stopped more than twenty times along this stretch of road just to take in the views, snap a few photos, and just breathe in the air. Progress was slow. But, I didn't care. Nor did any of the other bikes I encountered. It would be quite easy to blast along at motorway speeds or higher. But, there was no point. All the other bikes were just chilling out like me, cruising along and taking in the vistas that unfolded in front of us. I don't think I topped 50mph all afternoon.

A brief sideroad exploration signposted to Weardale was a welcome bonus. I could see the road snaking off into the distance and instantly knew it was worth the time to ride. Cresting the top of the hill afforded 360 degree views.

It was a detour of only a few miles but many more smiles. I didn't see any other traffic along this magnificent valley. Just a few sheep in the fields were the only thing making any noise.

I turned around at the end and rode back the way  had come. I was getting hungry, so I started to look for a spot where I could stop for my lunch. I spotted an empty layby on a corner with a very impressive view. That would do nicely. I switched off my bike to hear nothing but the sound of a car in the far distance.

I could of sat there for hours. According to the satnav I only had just over 50 miles until I reached Gretna, so I could afford to take a break. I sat enjoying the views for about an hour. But, the temperature was rising all the time so I made the move to get going again.

The bike temperature display said it was 28degrees. It felt warmer in my bike kit. Even the air through the vents in my clothing felt hot. Long gone was the  rain from earlier.

The rest of the ride to Gretna was along more great roads. As I approached the border the Highways Department had been busy surface dressing. I could hear the gravel bouncing off the belly pan of my bike as I wobbled my way across the perilous surface.

Stopping at the border sign for the obligatory photo, I struggled to find a good surface on which to place my side stand. The tarmac was melting. Could this really be Scotland?

My room for the night was found at the Day Inn at the Gretna Services just off the M74. It was a quiet room with a decent amount of breeze passing through it. I unloaded the bike, and locked it up to a barrier within view of the reception desk. The nice lady on reception said my bike would be fine. The desk was manned 24 hours a day which put my mind at ease.

I got changed out of my bike gear, had a nice shower, and set about charging up all of my cameras and spare batteries. Looking around me I realized I was now officially on one of my bike adventures. The room was trashed with all my gear spread out across the floor, the chair, and the bed. Good job I am travelling light!

With a quick old man power nap out of the way, I headed over to the services to see what delights of cuisine awaited me. There was a Waitrose whos refrigerated displays looked like they had been ram-raided, a KFC, and a Harry Ramsden restaurant that was full of school kids climbing on the tables.

I settled on a particularly greasy burger from Burger King. I ate half and left the rest. I was offered another one by the manager. But, took a refund instead. I bought some snacks and drinks to take back to my room. The heat was getting to me and I knew tomorrow would be a long day. I meet up with my fellow Clan members tomorrow as the tour begins. If the rest of the week continues in the same way as today it should be a memorable one.

Here is the vlog of todays events

                                                 

Clan ADV 2018: Eilean Siar and The Sea Kingdom

Saturday 9th June                                                                                                                      162 Miles

After a busy evening of packing, repacking, changing my mind, unpacking and repacking for the hundredth time, I woke reasonably refreshed and excited to be departing on this years Scottish adventure.

With my bike loaded and a copious amount of coffee inside me, I got going just after 9:30. Todays destination was to be my parents house just outside Lincoln, conveniently  located halfway between my home in Essex and the Scottish Borders. But, I had an important stop off point on the way.

Taking my normal route up through Suffolk, Norfolk and the Lincolnshire Fens everything was going fine until leaving Sudbury. My route along the A134 was closed for a cycling event.
Not to be deterred I took to the rural back roads. And, I mean rural. Grass was growing up the middle of some of them, and an ample layer of gravel provided added excitement on many of the blind bends. There was also no other traffic around to follow, as everyone else was behaving themselves and taking the official diversion route back to the A14. But, I was on an adventure, so no mind numbing dual carriageway for me!

The lady in the box (satnav), soon got the gist of what was happening and more by luck than judgement I appeared to be heading in generally the right direction. Once past Acton and through the historic village of Lavenham I picked up the A1141 back to the still closed A134.

I was now about halfway to Bury St Edmounds, and I seemed to recognize where I was. With a bit more village hopping on unclassified roads I arrived in the village of Sicklesmere just a couple of miles from Bury. I was now back on track having taken over an hour instead of the usual fifteen minutes it takes to get here from Sudbury.

A fuel stop was now needed fairly urgently, so I stopped at the large 24 hour Tesco's on the outskirts of town. Then it was onwards to Roudham near Thetford for my important mission of the day.

Roudham is the home of the St Georges distillery and The English Whisky Company. I was here to pick up a nice aged single malt to amuse my Scottish malt loving mates on this trip. There is also an excellent coffee shop on site. I enjoyed a large Americano and a lemon curd muffin, while I posted my English Whisky exploits on social media. This had the desired effect of provoking Robbie, who organizes our trips north of the border. He advised me to sleep with one eye open if I insisted in bringing any contraband with me. I pictured him applying the blue face paints as he send his text reply.

With my bounty of English nectar safely stowed in my top case, it was time to get back on the road. 

The satnav selected a slightly different route from the distillery than I had planned. But, for one it was a good choice. Smooth TT like lanes heading in the general direction of Swaffham. It was a great way to bed in my new tyres and brake pads. The roads were fast and flowing with barely any straights. I wasn't going at a ballistic pace, just making steady progress and soaking up the scenery.

I was soon on the A47 amongst the slow holiday traffic to Kings Lynn. Here I joined my usual route along the A17 across the vast Lincolnshire Fens. It always amazes me that they grow so many cabbages and cauliflowers out here. Who eats them? I for one am not the biggest fan of these school dinner horrors even though I eat a lot of other types of vegetables.

All to soon the aromas of  brassicas gave way to the spiced fragrance of one of my dads amazing curries, as I turned onto their driveway. I was ready for some good food as I had been quite a ride due to the road closures and slow moving caravans.

Tomorrow I head for the border! 

Here is my vlog from the trip so far.