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
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