Saturday 4th June 2016
Essex to Lincoln
The day of departure had crept up on me. It wasn't until a couple of days ago that it struck me that I really should think about packing a bag ready for the trip. I had been pre-occupied with various work and private life events recently, and these had taken my mind off the fact I was about to embark on another adventure into the unknown. The weather had also descended back into the depths of winter down in the south of England, with heavy rain and cooler temperatures for the last week or so. Potentially spending a week riding around Scotland in similar conditions was not something I was relishing.
But, after checking the weather forecast for the week ahead, it looked like while the south was having a cold snap, Scotland was enjoying the complete opposite. I packed my waterproofs within easy reach, just in case. It was Scotland after all.
The bike was ready to go having not really being used since the trip to Wales earlier in the year. I have begun to have thoughts of changing the Tiger for something else, after falling out of love with it as a everyday ride. Maybe this trip would rekindle our relationship.
With the bike loaded, I set off north towards Lincoln at just after 09:30. The weather was a little strange. It wasn't raining, but it felt like it would at any moment. It was also warmer than it had been for the last few days. I decided not to take the direct route using the M11 and A1 as I would be doing enough of that kind of riding tomorrow. So, I headed up through Suffolk, Norfolk and Lincolnshire on the just as fast, but almost empty A roads.
As I joined the A17 "Fruit and Veg Superhighway" at Kings Lynn, a low lying mist had descended, which made picking my way passed the slower moving caravans and HGV's an interesting extreme sport. Particularly when the oncoming traffic was running without any headlights!
Just after Long Sutton, the A17 was closed due to over-running overnight resurfacing work. The resulting diversion route took the traffic down the narrow fenland roads which form a maze running alongside the main A roads. HGV's were struggling to pass each other in places and progress of all traffic slowed to a crawl. Being on a bike, I filtered my way to the front, free from the width limitations of travelling with panniers due to needing to bring less stuff on this trip.
Once passed the last of the trucks and free to increase my pace a little, things started to get back on track . The diversion route signs were sparse, so knowing which towns were in the direction I needed, I fired the Triumph down the mud covered lanes hoping I would soon spot somewhere I recognized. All this free-styling upset Ms Garmin, and she went into complete mental trauma. I only travel with her on mute these days as I can no longer stand her bossy " I told you so!" attitude which came to the fore in Scandinavia. After forty minutes of exploring all that the Lincolnshire Fens had to offer, my inner compass had me back on the A17 about three miles from where the diversion had begun!
The rest of the ride to Lincoln was virtually trouble free apart from a few patches of deeply laid surface dressing covering the smaller country roads on the approach to the city. It was like riding on the beach in places. I arrived in Lincoln at lunchtime just as the shopping traffic was at its peak. A flurry of slightly aggressive filtering moves had me through the worst of the pre-occupied bargain hunters in no time. Ten minutes later I was turning into the driveway of my parents house just as the sun started to beam down.
It was great to see them again. I spent the rest of the day relaxing, catching up with Mum and Dad, and making a fuss of their dog, Rolly. He loves a visitor. Particularly one who will rub his belly and tickle him under his chin!
The bike was ready to go having not really being used since the trip to Wales earlier in the year. I have begun to have thoughts of changing the Tiger for something else, after falling out of love with it as a everyday ride. Maybe this trip would rekindle our relationship.
With the bike loaded, I set off north towards Lincoln at just after 09:30. The weather was a little strange. It wasn't raining, but it felt like it would at any moment. It was also warmer than it had been for the last few days. I decided not to take the direct route using the M11 and A1 as I would be doing enough of that kind of riding tomorrow. So, I headed up through Suffolk, Norfolk and Lincolnshire on the just as fast, but almost empty A roads.
As I joined the A17 "Fruit and Veg Superhighway" at Kings Lynn, a low lying mist had descended, which made picking my way passed the slower moving caravans and HGV's an interesting extreme sport. Particularly when the oncoming traffic was running without any headlights!
Just after Long Sutton, the A17 was closed due to over-running overnight resurfacing work. The resulting diversion route took the traffic down the narrow fenland roads which form a maze running alongside the main A roads. HGV's were struggling to pass each other in places and progress of all traffic slowed to a crawl. Being on a bike, I filtered my way to the front, free from the width limitations of travelling with panniers due to needing to bring less stuff on this trip.
Once passed the last of the trucks and free to increase my pace a little, things started to get back on track . The diversion route signs were sparse, so knowing which towns were in the direction I needed, I fired the Triumph down the mud covered lanes hoping I would soon spot somewhere I recognized. All this free-styling upset Ms Garmin, and she went into complete mental trauma. I only travel with her on mute these days as I can no longer stand her bossy " I told you so!" attitude which came to the fore in Scandinavia. After forty minutes of exploring all that the Lincolnshire Fens had to offer, my inner compass had me back on the A17 about three miles from where the diversion had begun!
The rest of the ride to Lincoln was virtually trouble free apart from a few patches of deeply laid surface dressing covering the smaller country roads on the approach to the city. It was like riding on the beach in places. I arrived in Lincoln at lunchtime just as the shopping traffic was at its peak. A flurry of slightly aggressive filtering moves had me through the worst of the pre-occupied bargain hunters in no time. Ten minutes later I was turning into the driveway of my parents house just as the sun started to beam down.
It was great to see them again. I spent the rest of the day relaxing, catching up with Mum and Dad, and making a fuss of their dog, Rolly. He loves a visitor. Particularly one who will rub his belly and tickle him under his chin!
Sunday 5th June 2016
Lincoln to the Lake District
As I wouldn't be leaving until the early afternoon I had a lazy morning after sleeping in until nearly nine. I always sleep well at my parents house. It is so peaceful compared to the busy road on which I live. I could feel the stress from back home had floated away during the night. I was beginning to relax into holiday mode.
After a nice lunch, I left Lincoln and started the ride to Shap. The satnav said it would take just over three hours. The sun was shining and it was nice and warm. So, I wacked on some tunes and settled in for the ride.
There was a little bit of the usual congestion in places on the A1. The worst of which was a stretch of roadworks controlled by average speed cameras on the approach to Scotch Corner. Again this was not a problem for me on my bike and I breezed through. Once on to the A66 towards Penrith, the traffic disappeared and I started to enjoy the scenery.
Everything was green as far as the eye could see. Even the other traffic!
At Brough I turned onto the A685. This was a twisting rollercoaster of a road though some nice little towns. The sky became a little bruised and was threatening to dampen things up a little, as the lake land fells came into view. I hoped I would make it the last few miles to the hostel without getting wet.
I nearly made it. But, as I approached the M6 motorway at Tebay, the rain just started to fall. It was only a shower. I pulled into the services just after junction 38 to fuel up. This would mean I would be able to ride up to Dumfries tomorrow morning without any hassle.
By the time I had fuelled up, the shower had passed. I had one junction to go on the M6 before turning off for the short ride into Shap.
The hostel was well sign posted from the junction and I found it situated at the far end of the village. A warm, friendly greeting from my lovely hostess was just the ticket. As I had made my booking online and the dorms had been filling up fast during my search ( it was fully booked for my return journey), I was surprised to be told that I would be her only guest tonight. I had my pick of the dorms, choosing a nice bed at the front so I could keep an eye on my bike. There were some other travelers camping in the well manicured grounds at the year of the lodge, though. They were hiking along the coast to coast trail that runs through the village. I met them latter in the pub.
The dorms were basic, but had everything I needed. There was also a kitchen and bathroom just up the hall. After putting various gadgets on charge, I had a shower ( which were excellent and very clean), got changed, and took a exploratory walk into the village.
Shap is a village consisting of various grey stone building scattered along a long straight road. There is a small Tata steel works at one end, a hotel/bar, a pub, and an award winning fish and chip shop. What could be described as a one horse town. Unfortunately that horse went lame, and someone should of called a vet years ago. The scenery beyond the high street is very nice though with lots of rolling fells and green fields. It was pleasant enough. Just not the bustling metropolis I am used to back home.
After sampling some fish and chips I made my way to the pub to sample a local beverage. The pub was very warm inside, so I took my pint of amber ale outside. A few of the locals were assembled in the corner and had obviously been enjoying the great weather all afternoon. They began to be a little loud, and a few minutes later a karaoke machine was cranked up blasting out a variety of 1980's soft rock classics. For the sake of my sanity I chose to move on and wandered up to the hotel bar.
Here I tried a different ale that was not as good and I chose not to finish it. At least there was a nice quiet garden out the back. After coming to the conclusion that a decent beer was not on offer anywhere, I walked to the far end of the village and then returned to the hostel. I chatted with my hostess in the bar for a while, as it was still fairly early. The bottled amber ale here was much better than the draft on offer at the pub. I called it a day as I anticipated that tomorrow would be a long one, and eventually I retired to my bed anticipating what was to come in the morning.
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