Saturday 16th June 382 Miles
1665
Total
It was our final
morning in Scotland. Today the remaining clansmen would disband and return home.
As most of us had a few hundred miles to travel today we had agreed to get up
early, get going, and stop for breakfast up the road.
I woke up after
a decent sleep for the first time this week at just before 6. I decided I was
not going to get up until 6:30. That would mean I would be on my way around
7:30. Leaving any earlier would mean the cafés and fuel stations may not be
open.
The others must
have been sleeping with one eye open waiting for someone to make the first
move. As soon as I got up and headed for the shower room, all the others began
to spring from their beds.
We were all
packed and on the road by 7:45. The rain had been falling since we woke up. It was
alternating from drizzle to light rain as we made our way to Ardgour to catch
the Corran ferry. The ferry was just loading up on the far shore as we pulled
up, so we only had a few minutes to wait until it was our turn to cross.
While we were
waiting Robbie tried Mark’s CRF250 for size. He had been surprised by the abilities of the little bike. Plans for a small cc Clan tour began to permeate in the random void between Robbie's ears.
With the ferry
docked we carefully boarded the ferry taking care on the slippery deck. The
rain was now a constant light rain. With no shelter available on the ferry, I
was pleased to reach the other side so that we could get on our way.
We were heading
down the A82 to Tyndrum for fuel and breakfast. Stu and Alison needed fuel
before then though, so they stopped at the first fuel available. They would
then meet us at the café in Tyndrum.
The ride to
Tyndrum was a wet affair. The rain was heavy at times with strong gusts of wind
thrown in just to keep us on our toes. As we headed through Glen Coe the strength
of the wind increased as the steep cliffs concentrated the wind straight towards
us. Tucking behind the tiny screen of my Multistrada made little difference. I
could tell it was going to be a long, arduous day on the bike.
My fuel light
came on half way across Glen Coe. But, with just under ten miles to go until we
reached the salvation of The Green Welly Stop I wasn’t concerned. The Green Welly Stop is a popular stop off point for travellers heading up to the Highlands.
There is a fuel station here, as well as a restaurant and shop. Because it is
the only fuel for miles, the prices are a little steep though. We fuelled up, and
then headed for some breakfast.
But, we didn’t
eat at The Green Welly Stop. A few hundred metres up the road is The Real Food Cafe.
This is the place to eat for those in the know. We rolled into the car park and
quickly headed inside to get out of the rain.
The café was
quite full. Lots of hikers, cyclists, and a few families had sought shelter in
the cosy café. We found a few table and hung our jackets on the back of the
chairs. Pools of water quickly formed around the legs marking our territory.
But, we weren’t alone. All of the other customers had left their marks too.
The café offers
a vast selection of food including vegetarian and vegan, as well as the full
meat feast options. I chose the full vegetarian breakfast with an extra coffee.
It was definitely a two coffee morning so far. The food was amazing. Freshly
cooked right in front of you, the service was very efficient. I felt much
happier with a belly full of food. I had also warmed up and dried out. But, the
rain was waiting for us right outside the door.
We started to go
our separate ways from the café. Jim and Johnny had a glamping pod booked for
the night just up the road on the side of Loch Lomond. Stu and Alison were
heading south with us for a bit, then they would travel east towards Edinburgh
to pick up the A68. Mark zoomed off on his 250 heading the same direction as
Robbie, Colin and I. He would then go west to the Cumbrian coast once we got to
Carlisle.
Robbie, Colin
and I travelled together. We were heading back to Lockerbie where we would fuel
up again before going our separate ways. The rain was constant as we headed for
Glasgow. The A82 along the western shore of Loch Lomond was slow going. Lots of
traffic combined with flooded roads reduced speeds too little over 35mph. I had
over three hundred miles still to go today. This was not what I needed.
Reaching Glasgow
the rain appeared to ease a little. And with the traffic now a little lighter
we were soon turning onto the M74. And, straight into roadworks! The traffic
was backed up for a few miles. Luckily we were able to filter through on our
bikes, although it was a little tight for Robbie and Colin at times with their
panniers making their bikes much wider than mine.
Once through the
roadworks we were back up to motorway speeds again and finally making progress.
A small motorcycle was spotted up ahead through the spray and the three of us
closed in for a flyby. Mark was cruising along at his 65mph maximum. We beeped
our horns and exchanged waved fingers of encouragement as we left him in our
wake. I had expected to catch him much earlier. But, the low speeds until we
had got to the M74 meant he had maintained his few minutes’ advantage.
I was beginning to
get cold as we turned off the M74 at Happendon. My gloves were
ringing with water. I could feel the cold wind hitting my chest even though I
had a fleece on under my jacket. It was about forty miles to Lockerbie from
here. I could wait until we got there before adding more layers. I heard my helmet
camera battery die and the camera switch off. I wasn’t going to stop and fit a freshly
charged one. What was the point? There was nothing to film but spray!
I felt better after my little break. I wrestled my hands back into my damp, cold "dry" gloves, put on my MP3 player, and set off on the final push to Lincoln. The rest of the A66 came and went. Turning onto the A1, I set the cruise control to a slightly lower speed than before and joined the Audi/BMW road train hogging the outside lane.
The route back
to Lockerbie was a reverse of the route the three of us had taken on Monday.
That seemed a long time ago right now. Over a thousand miles had passed under
our wheels since then. And, right now a lot of standing water was passing too.
The B7076 was flooded along the verges forcing us to ride along the crown of
the road for much of it. A car coming in the opposite direction gave us all a
proper dousing as he drove along in the deeper water at the side of the road. I
would like to think he didn’t do it on purpose. But, somehow I believe he did.
The bright
lights of Lockerbie came into view and we rolled past the café and into the
fuel station where the trip had begun. All three of us fuelled up. Robbie
offered us a coffee and a chance to dry out at his home just up the road. But,
Colin and I decided to press on. The lady in the box said I still had 280 miles
and just less than four and a half hours of riding ahead of me. I needed to get
some miles under my belt. I put on a fresh, dry neck tube and gloves, and my
other fleece jacket too. Colin did similar. We waved goodbye to Robbie, and I
followed Colin towards the motorway once more.
Once onto the
M74 again Colin settled into a cruise just under the speed limit. I wasn’t
going to get back to Lincoln very quickly at this rate. Feeling a little guilty
at leaving him behind, I waved goodbye to Colin. I set my cruise control at a
speed not really suitable for the conditions and put my trust in modern motorcycle
and tyre technology. I didn’t care. I just wanted the relentless weather and
arduous riding to end. There was very little traffic using the outside lane. It
was reserved for idiots on motorcycles. Passing the walls of spray thrown up by
the other traffic meant riding completely blind for a brief moment as I passed by.
I could think of better journeys on a motorcycle.
Through the
gloom and traffic spray I spotted the turn off for the A66. Indicator on,
cruise control off, and full faith in the Bosch ABS development team as I
braked while filtering for the roundabout at the end of the slip road and
caught the white lines. I swore in my helmet and told myself to calm down. I
could tell I was getting tired.
After a few miles of the A66 I forced myself to pull over for a break. I found a layby looking out over the Yorkshire Dales. I grabbed a drink and a cereal bar from my top case, and then realized that it had stopped raining. Looking back I could see that I had outrun the rain clouds. And what is that? Blue sky!
Due to my higher speeds, my fuel light came on just after I reached Doncaster. I would need a splash and dash to get me to Lincoln. I pulled into the next fuel station for my final fill up of the day. The sun was now blazing. My jacket soaked from this morning's deluge began to start steaming as I filled my tank. I chuckled to myself as I tried to comprehend how different the weather could be in just a few hours.
With 21 degrees showing on my dash, I cruised the last thirty or so miles to my parent's house just outside Lincoln. with Rolly their dog, signaling my arrival I climbed off my bike and removed my helmet. All of my gear was still soaked despite the warm sunny weather. I headed for the laundry room. I felt like climbing straight into the tumble drier. After all, I had just spent most of the day riding around in Mother Nature's washing machine.
With a shower and a change of clothes I felt human again. I hung up all my larger pieces of kit on the washing line in the garden, and threw the rest in the tumble drier. I hoped it would be all dry for the final day of riding home to Essex in the morning.
Unsurprisingly, I
slept like a log after yesterday’s journey back from Scotland. I was mentally
tired from concentrating so hard, as well as physically tired from the beating
the weather had given. My arms and neck were sore this morning after the eight
hours of motorcycle wrestling yesterday. But, even though I was sore and tired
I still had an amazing week with the Clan.
After a relaxing
breakfast I changed into my nice dry and warm riding kit, rolled my bike out of
the garage, and set off for the last few hours of riding back to Essex.
It was
warm but not hot this morning. Just right for the ride home. I was not in a rush
this morning. I took my usual route back through Norfolk and Suffolk stopping
in Thetford Forest for a midway break. The miles flew by as I relaxed and
contemplated on what a week I had just had. Even though the weather was against
us, it was still a stunning part of the world to visit. There are places I wish
to revisit at some point, probably in my campervan if I can find the time. My
fellow Clan members made it a trip to remember. Despite the conditions everyone
remained upbeat and hungry for more. I can’t wait for next year.
Here is the vlog
of the rainy end to the tour.
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