Friday 10th June 2016
This morning all of us were up by eight. I had had a restless night in the end and woke several times due to the heat in the dorm room. And,I had a long way to go today, as I was riding back to my parents in Lincoln. I had tried to book an overnight stop like I had done on the way up, but the hostels all seemed to be fully booked.
Mark and Daz were keen to get going too, so we would ride together for the first part of todays journey. They knew a different route back to Carlisle which avoided the motorway monotony. This sounded like the road for me as I despise motorway travel at the best of times, preferring the road less travelled if one is available.
By 08:30 we were packed up and on the road out of Oban. Riding along the now familiar A85, the morning mist was just burning off as we rode along the shore of Loch Etive. There was not a ripple on the surface of the glassy water. I was going to miss this place.
With the A85 and A819 passing beneath our wheels we arrived back in Inveraray where we picked up the A83 to Loch Lomond.
Passing the Rest and be Thankful, the views along Glen Douglas and Glen Croe were quite spectacular even with the tops shrouded in their misty duvets. The fast flowing roads were completely free of traffic, making for a great ride.
As we got nearer to Glasgow on the A82 along the shore of Loch Lomond, the traffic increased slightly with the odd bit of automotive opulence for me to lust after.
We arrived in Glasgow just after rush hour. After filling up with fuel on the outskirts of the city, we crossed the Erskine Bridge and followed the M8 anti-clockwise before heading south on the M74. I don't know if Glasgow had a problem with the drains or something, but it was less than a delightful experience for my nostrils as we circumnavigated the city. It wasn't as bad as the air back in the hostel dorm room, but it was a close second. I don't know about Glasgow being a city of culture, more like "Glasgow- The wiffy City".
Once onto the M74 and clear of the city, Mark signaled for us to turn off a few miles later. Here we picked up the B7078 and B7076 south. These deserted, well surface roads runs parallel with the M74 crossing it occasionally, but always running alongside. It was like having our own private route home. Progress was good and we stopped at Happendon services for coffee and cake to break up the journey a little. Then it was onwards towards Carlisle.
At Carlisle, I waved goodbye to Mark and Daz who headed west towards home. I joined the M74 for a couple of juctions with another refuel at Southwaite services. This would give enough fuel to get me to get back to Lincoln. Here I discovered that my Drift camera had run out of memory card space. I couldn't be bothered to change it, so I just rode on. At Penrith I turned onto the A66 which seemed to have turned into a carpark. Luckily I was able to filter passed all the frustrated car drivers, much to my satisfaction.
The weather had been good so far, but as I got near to Scotch Corner a light misty rain started to envelop everything. It wasn't really rain though, more of a heavy cloud. I didn't really want to stop again to put my waterproofs on, so I decided to keep going and see if things got better.
Once onto the A1 the sun came out again, and I settled in to my journey south. The traffic was slow going through a series of road works and at various times the traffic stopped for no apparent reason. I filtered for nearly twenty miles on the motorway section just before York. I was pleased to be on my bike today. I stopped at Thirsk services for a quick drink, a banana, and a leg stretch to keep me going until I got to Lincoln. The services were crazy. Traffic was queueing back to the motorway and the carpark was packed. I filtered passed and found a quiet spot in the coach park for a ten minute break.
Back on the road again, I was making good progress. My arms were starting to feel a little tired, and my backside was starting to protest at having to support me in one position for the last few hours. But, my finish line for today was fast approaching so I pressed on. Things were going great until about twenty miles from Lincoln.
The sky started to look a little dark up ahead, and a light drizzle started to fall. I wasn't going to stop so close to Lincoln, so I didn't take much notice. Then I noticed the brake lights of the cars in front coming on. Within thirty seconds the road was like a river, with torrential rain bouncing off the road as high as my foot pegs. The traffic had all but stopped, such was the difficulty in seeing where you were going. It was even more fun for me through the dark visor of my helmet. I could feel the water creeping through the zips and vents of my jacket like someone pouring a cold glass of water down my back. After a few hundred metres I was soaked to the skin. All I could think of was that this must of been some kind of karma payback for all the Scottish sunshine!
Realising that it was too late for waterproofs, I just got on with the task at hand. Filtering like a crazy drug addict desperate for his next hit, I rode faster than was probably necessary. Much faster. I just wanted this misery to end.
I arrived at my parents house and rang the bell. Standing in their garage shaking from a combination of adrenaline fuelled riding and oncoming hypothermia, I discarded my wet clothes into a pile and struggled into some dry ones. Everything went into the tumble drier. I even thought about climbing in too. It had been a tiring day, and the rain hadn't helped things. Hopefully the final leg tomorrow will be a nice straightforward blast home.
Saturday 11th June 2016
After yesterdays soaking, I was keen to watch the weather forecast for todays journey home to Essex as I eat my breakfast. There was a chance of more showers after lunch, so if I got going sooner rather than later I would hopefully miss them.
The weather forecast was wrong. Half an hour into my journey south it started to rain. Hard. I pulled my bike over and wrestled myself into my waterproofs as the wind did its best to try and relieve me of them. It rained for the next sixty miles, turning what should of been a blast home into painful drudgery. The sun finally came out with just a few miles to go. I wasn't stopping now, so I cooked in my waterproof suit like a boil in the bag meal for the rest of the way. Arriving home ready to serve I just sat on my back door step for a few minutes until I could summon the energy to start unloading the bike. I was knackered.
The total mileage for the trip had been 1569.4 miles. It was an amazing week riding through some stunning scenery, with some of the best people you are ever likely to meet. I can't wait to go back, so much so that I have already said I will be attending next years Clan meet.
Here is a few of the video clips I filmed during the week.
With the A85 and A819 passing beneath our wheels we arrived back in Inveraray where we picked up the A83 to Loch Lomond.
Passing the Rest and be Thankful, the views along Glen Douglas and Glen Croe were quite spectacular even with the tops shrouded in their misty duvets. The fast flowing roads were completely free of traffic, making for a great ride.
As we got nearer to Glasgow on the A82 along the shore of Loch Lomond, the traffic increased slightly with the odd bit of automotive opulence for me to lust after.
We arrived in Glasgow just after rush hour. After filling up with fuel on the outskirts of the city, we crossed the Erskine Bridge and followed the M8 anti-clockwise before heading south on the M74. I don't know if Glasgow had a problem with the drains or something, but it was less than a delightful experience for my nostrils as we circumnavigated the city. It wasn't as bad as the air back in the hostel dorm room, but it was a close second. I don't know about Glasgow being a city of culture, more like "Glasgow- The wiffy City".
Once onto the M74 and clear of the city, Mark signaled for us to turn off a few miles later. Here we picked up the B7078 and B7076 south. These deserted, well surface roads runs parallel with the M74 crossing it occasionally, but always running alongside. It was like having our own private route home. Progress was good and we stopped at Happendon services for coffee and cake to break up the journey a little. Then it was onwards towards Carlisle.
At Carlisle, I waved goodbye to Mark and Daz who headed west towards home. I joined the M74 for a couple of juctions with another refuel at Southwaite services. This would give enough fuel to get me to get back to Lincoln. Here I discovered that my Drift camera had run out of memory card space. I couldn't be bothered to change it, so I just rode on. At Penrith I turned onto the A66 which seemed to have turned into a carpark. Luckily I was able to filter passed all the frustrated car drivers, much to my satisfaction.
The weather had been good so far, but as I got near to Scotch Corner a light misty rain started to envelop everything. It wasn't really rain though, more of a heavy cloud. I didn't really want to stop again to put my waterproofs on, so I decided to keep going and see if things got better.
Once onto the A1 the sun came out again, and I settled in to my journey south. The traffic was slow going through a series of road works and at various times the traffic stopped for no apparent reason. I filtered for nearly twenty miles on the motorway section just before York. I was pleased to be on my bike today. I stopped at Thirsk services for a quick drink, a banana, and a leg stretch to keep me going until I got to Lincoln. The services were crazy. Traffic was queueing back to the motorway and the carpark was packed. I filtered passed and found a quiet spot in the coach park for a ten minute break.
Back on the road again, I was making good progress. My arms were starting to feel a little tired, and my backside was starting to protest at having to support me in one position for the last few hours. But, my finish line for today was fast approaching so I pressed on. Things were going great until about twenty miles from Lincoln.
The sky started to look a little dark up ahead, and a light drizzle started to fall. I wasn't going to stop so close to Lincoln, so I didn't take much notice. Then I noticed the brake lights of the cars in front coming on. Within thirty seconds the road was like a river, with torrential rain bouncing off the road as high as my foot pegs. The traffic had all but stopped, such was the difficulty in seeing where you were going. It was even more fun for me through the dark visor of my helmet. I could feel the water creeping through the zips and vents of my jacket like someone pouring a cold glass of water down my back. After a few hundred metres I was soaked to the skin. All I could think of was that this must of been some kind of karma payback for all the Scottish sunshine!
Realising that it was too late for waterproofs, I just got on with the task at hand. Filtering like a crazy drug addict desperate for his next hit, I rode faster than was probably necessary. Much faster. I just wanted this misery to end.
I arrived at my parents house and rang the bell. Standing in their garage shaking from a combination of adrenaline fuelled riding and oncoming hypothermia, I discarded my wet clothes into a pile and struggled into some dry ones. Everything went into the tumble drier. I even thought about climbing in too. It had been a tiring day, and the rain hadn't helped things. Hopefully the final leg tomorrow will be a nice straightforward blast home.
Saturday 11th June 2016
After yesterdays soaking, I was keen to watch the weather forecast for todays journey home to Essex as I eat my breakfast. There was a chance of more showers after lunch, so if I got going sooner rather than later I would hopefully miss them.
The weather forecast was wrong. Half an hour into my journey south it started to rain. Hard. I pulled my bike over and wrestled myself into my waterproofs as the wind did its best to try and relieve me of them. It rained for the next sixty miles, turning what should of been a blast home into painful drudgery. The sun finally came out with just a few miles to go. I wasn't stopping now, so I cooked in my waterproof suit like a boil in the bag meal for the rest of the way. Arriving home ready to serve I just sat on my back door step for a few minutes until I could summon the energy to start unloading the bike. I was knackered.
The total mileage for the trip had been 1569.4 miles. It was an amazing week riding through some stunning scenery, with some of the best people you are ever likely to meet. I can't wait to go back, so much so that I have already said I will be attending next years Clan meet.
Here is a few of the video clips I filmed during the week.
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