Clan ADV 2018: Hector puts up a fight

Thursday 14th June                                                                                                                  219 Miles
                                                                                                                                                      1117 Total

It had been an interesting night and one where I was destined not to sleep. Storm Hector had well and truly arrived during the early hours. The first time I was woken was just after half past two. The rain was lashing down, with gale force winds howling past the window. At one point I thought someone was trying to break in through the fire door, as it was rattling in its frame so much.

The winds died down after about an hour and I drifted back off to sleep for a while. But, it wasn't only windy outside. Johnny had been perfecting his syncronised farting and snoring technique all week. And tonight he seemed to have nailed it. Perfectly timed, with a fart followed by an equal length snore at a constant rhythm. Luckily the room must of been well ventilated as no ill effects were noticed other than sleep deprivation.

But, Johnny was not alone in his efforts. An aural accompaniment was also coming from  Stu and Alison in the corner of our room. Stu was snoring in his usual barking walrus style, while Alison was snoring like a little chugging Lister diesel engine.

I got up just after six. There was a definite calm after the storm. The sunrise had lit up the sky in a carnival of pinks and oranges. I took a shower to try and wake myself up a bit. Finn was also up and about enjoying a spot of breakfast. We chatted for a bit and soon the others began to appear. The morning chat turned to the weather. As I now had WIFI and phone signal I was able to check the CalMac website and Twitter feeds for updates on our ferry sailings. I would have to wait until eight for the latest update. We all hoped for the best, and that we would be able to get back to the mainland today.

The weather reports on the TV didn't look good for this morning. We were right in the storm, and it would be following our route until around lunchtime when it headed back out to sea again.

But, it wasn't all bad news. All of my bike kit had dried out. I was still worried about being cold again today though. I had removed all of the thermal linings from my suit and left them at home. I wasn't going to need them was I? It was the middle of summer! Stu then suggested the old timer trick of wearing a pair of tights under your riding pants. I was prepared to give anything a go after yesterday. So, I set off into town in search of some tights or leggings.

It was just before nine. But, it appeared that Stornoway didn't open until 9:30. I found a sports shop which had a selection of mens and womens leggings in the window. But, the shop was closed on Thursdays! After a lap of the whole town, the only shop that was open was the small CoOp supermarket. They had a selection of hosiery on display at the end of the toiletries isle. Ranging from the heavily laced patterned type preferred by ladies of the night, through to the heavy tan coloured ones worn by your Gran. Not wanting to look like a transvestite street walker, I settled on a pair of heavy denier black tights suitable for the larger lady.

Back at the hostel it was time to get changed. Well the tights seemed to fit my manly curves just fine. I could feel the benefits almost straight away. And, not just the lustful stare of a giggling Stu. So, it was on with the rest of my bike gear and we all prepared for our journey to the ferry at Tarbert.

The ferries appeared to be running with a few delays according to the website. Just as we were leaving the hostel most of our phones received a message from the CalMac update service. It was funny how everyone's phone started beeping at the same time. 

We had allowed plenty of time for the ride over to Tarbert. It was thirty five miles to the port which usually takes about an hour. It was two hours until the last check in so we should be ok. Robbie led the way out of a Stornoway as the rain began to fall once more. There was lots of tree debris in the road as the trees were getting a really hard battering from the gusty winds.

Right now we were protected by the buildings of the town. It was sure to get more interesting as we headed into the countryside. As we climbed the hill out of town the gusts of wind became a constant strong wind blowing from the right. Battling to stay on the road and not head into the ditch where the wind was trying to send us, required constant firm pressure on the left handle bar grip. This was fine until the wind eased off where we would head straight across the road as if we were making a tight right hand turn.

We kept our speed low. Forty mph felt like a suicide mission. Following Robbie he appeared to be leaning over on to the side of the tyre at about thirty degrees. Looking at Finn in my mirrors, he seemed to be doing the same behind me. So I assumed I must be riding leant over too. Although it didn't feel as exaggerated as the others made it seem.

As well as the wind, rain and road spray were causing more danger. Doing our best to keep to our own lane and not have a head on collision with other traffic, the wall of spray created by the trucks and coaches caused a complete temporary loss of vision as they passed by. It was not a fun way to travel.

About halfway to Tarbert, Robbie pulled over into a carpark. He had lost the sight of some of the clan in his mirrors and wanted to make sure we were all together. Stu was struggling with his large BMW in the side winds. He was going to plod on at the back and catch up with us at the port.                                 

We got on our way and headed for the mountainous section over the Roinebhal summit plateau. As we climbed my bike struggled to pull  third gear when heading into the wind. The rain began to increase, and the streams of water on the road could be seen overtaking the bikes such was the strength of the wind.

Eventually the town sign for Tarbert came in to view. A matrix sign a the side of the road confirmed the ferry was still running, so we joined the queue of cars at the ticket booth. Shortly after we arrived Stu and Alison pulled up behind us looking a little weather worn. But, we were all safely back together and hopefully shortly on our way back to Skye and the mainland.

The queue up to the ticket booth was slow moving. Finn managed to upset the grumpy ticket man when he didn't want all his paperwork back. It seems very antiquated to not have some kind of phone app or paper less booking on system these days. Perhaps CalMac is working on something for the future.

We were parked up near the barriers by the staff who apologised for the fact the ferry was about twenty minutes late. We told them we were just happy it was still sailing. We all headed over to the terminal building to escape the cold and keep dry.

The bikes were loaded in two batches, some at the bow and the rest at the stern. I was selected for the first group so was allowed to board as soon as the ferry docked. It was the same ferry as we had used on Monday, the MV Hebrides. I headed up to the rear lounge and grabbed a few tables and seat for us all to sit together. It was much busier on this crossing, and seating quickly became a scarce. The others soon joined me, and the ferry quickly got underway. The Chief Stewart announced on the tannoy that there may be some movement in the ship on this crossing. The was his way of saying it was going to be a bit rough!

I headed to the restaurant with a few of the other for some lunch. I can highly recommend the food on the CalMac ferries. I had an amazing plate of fish and chips. I just hoped I wouldn't be seeing it again soon, if the crossing was to be a rough one. 

The crossing while slightly turbulent at times, turned out to be a not as rough as first thought. But, a couple of young girls still had to be rushed to the toilets by their mum to avoid messing up the floor coverings. It was quite warm in the rear passenger lounge which probably didn't help.

After my huge fish and chip lunch, and having missed part of my morning routine due to a lack of toilet paper at the hostel I headed to the gents to take care of business. The toilet cubicles on a ship are compact at the best of times. Factor in trying to wrestle out of a pair of motorcycle pants and you have even more fun. It was then that I remembered that I was wearing my tights. Such was the comfort they afforded, it had totally passed my mind that I was wearing ladies undergarments. It wasn't something I was thinking of doing on a regular basis, but I can understand why some men feel the need.

Safely seated I then had the realization that taking a dump on a ship sailing across a stormy sea in a gale force wind was probably not the best method of achieving a smooth bowel movement. The icy kiss of the water in the bowl on a bare buttock as the ship gets thrown around certainly concentrates the mind on the task in hand.

The rest of the crossing was spent chatting about the mornings events. I bumped into one of the cyclists from the hostel in Berneray. He had managed to get to Tarbert yesterday, and just found the first B&B he could find. He got changed out of his cycling gear, and completely shattered slept for ten hours. He had given up on exploring the rest of Harris, and was headed back to the mainland to stay safe. I explained our ride this morning and that he had made the right decision.

Then all too soon the Chief Stewart announced that we were shortly arriving in a sunny Uig. What would the rest of the day bring? Now that the worst of the storm had passed we could only hope the rest of todays ride would be less dramatic.

Here is the vlog of the mornings events

Clan ADV 2018: A Storm is a coming!

Wednesday 13th June                                                                                                       60 Miles

                                                                                                                                             898 Total

I woke up early as usual. I could hear that it was quite breezy outside. As I made my way to the shower room, I looked outside to see an angry looking sky. The wind was making the sea look choppy, and light rain had begun to fall.

With my ablutions complete, I found Finn was up and about back in the dorm room. Finn likes to get up early and get going so it was no surprise to find that he had his panniers packed already.

I too started to get my things together. Finn and I had a chat while we were loading up our bikes. Finn had a little detour planned today. He was going to ride with the rest of us, and then take a trip to the Abhainn Dearg Distillery. This is a small distillery on the west coast of Lewis. The ride to get there is down a narrow, single track, dead end road out to the coast. It sounded like a nice little distraction.

As we headed back to the dorm for the rest of our kit, the others were all up and dressed, even Robbie. We all headed over to the communal room for breakfast where a few of the other hostel guests were gathering. They were catching the same ferry as us this morning. But, as they were cycling they had to leave about thirty minutes earlier. We would pass them a few times either side of the crossing today as we stopped at different places on our travels.

Stu and Alison had a little detour of their own planned for today too. Alison wanted to visit the Harris Tweed factory shop. This had been a pre-trip deal breaker for Alison. She would spend some  (quite a bit) of Stu's money in exchange for having to spend a week sleeping in hostels with a clan of burly men. If that is the case then I want to know where my matching handbag and gloves are, for having to put up with Stu's snoring for the week!

The weather had turned into the major talking point around the table this morning. It turns out we would be in the eye of Storm Hector, as the Met Office had named it, for the next 24 hours. Great! Just as we were arriving on Harris and Lewis with all the lovely scenery.

But, Jim had some good news. After a few phone calls he had managed to secure the only tyre available in the islands. A tyre shop in Stornoway had a tyre on the shelf with his name on it. Jim would head straight there once we landed in Leverburgh, and then meet up with us at our accommodation this afternoon.

It was a few miles down to the Berneray ferry terminal where we had a short wait in the constant light rain that was falling. The cyclists from the hostel were looking weather beaten already. They had a long hard day ahead of them. The bikes and motorcycles were to be loaded first, so we all made our way past the gloomy faced car drivers and onto the ferry. The crew informed us that straps were not used on this crossing due to the shallow sea. They did their best to reassure us, and we headed up to the passenger deck and out of the rain. Finding a group of tables we camped out and made ourselves at home for the hour long crossing.

The ferry makes a series of tight ninety degree turns as it makes its way over to Harris. The sea is very shallow and the route is marked out with coloured markers indicating the correct route across the sandbanks. Looking down to the bikes on the car deck, they seemed to be rocking on their suspension a little more than we would of liked. A couple of car alarms had gone off as the cars were jiggling about too.

But, with Leverburgh in sight the Chief Steward called for us to head down to our bikes and prepare for disembarkment. 

After a couple of cars parked behind were let off our bikes were set free to explore Harris and Lewis. Robbie had planned to stop at the café on the port for coffee/breakfast, but it was closed until lunchtime.

So, we got on our way and stopped at the shop on the edge of the village. The others filled up with fuel. I topped up my tank after having stopped yesterday afternoon, I was nearly full but managed to get a couple of litres in. A few snacks were bought and then it was time to head north on the A859. The driving for the first few miles was interesting. Opposing drivers seemed to completely ignore the passing places and just squeezed past our bikes without stopping. This was a little alarming in places, especially in the now driving rain.  

But, after a few miles the traffic disappeared and the scenery this part of the world is famous for started to appear. As we approached the Sound of Taransay the first of the sandy beaches came into view. Robbie pulled over so that we could take some photos, but it was too wet to take out my DSLR. It still looked stunning in the rain.

A few miles further on and with the rain easing off, more and more stunning beaches appeared. Every turn offered a beach view. The local gulls were enjoying the scene too. Soaring away on the breeze, one got a little too close for comfort and I just avoided headbutting it as it made a diving turn. It then swooped up and had a go at Johnny two bikes behind. Still, our near death experiences gave us something to talk about other than the weather.

At Seilebost the road crossed a small causeway with beaches on either side. A campsite next to the road looked like a great place to stay if only the weather was more kind.

Heading inland towards North Harris the scenery became rocky and mountainous. It was a barren, dark, wild scene that stretched out before us. It was a complete contrast to the soft white sand that we had ridden past moments before. The wind had also increased. The huge rocky corridors provided the wind with the ideal opportunity to test our resolve.

The gusts were unpredictable and it made the riding were tiring. Colin hurt his neck when a strong gust caught the peak on his helmet and wrenched his helmet round on his head. He had whiplash type symptoms for the next couple of days. I was beginning to feel the effects of the weather too. My legs felt like they were wet through. As it turned out, my waterproof suit was still waterproof it was just that my legs were cold from the driving wind.

At the A859/A858 junction Robbie pulled over for a clan discussion. He had planned for us to ride around the north end of Lewis in a big loop and then to Stornoway. The consensus was that most of us had had enough of the weather. A dry set of clothes and warm pub seemed much more inviting than another few hours of our unwelcome mate Hector.

So, with that we made a u turn and headed straight for our overnight hostel in Stornoway. Finn left us and carried on in search of his whisky fix just up the coast.

Arriving in Stornoway, Robbie started making friends with one of the local drivers who decided to pull out straight in front of him. He pulled along side and gestured that he would like to offer them some freshly ground coffee! How nice of him.

Stornoway is a confusing maze of one way streets on a grid system. We pulled up outside a hostel, only to be told it was not our hostel. Our hostel was three streets away. We left the bikes parked up and walked round to the correct hostel only to find that it was all locked up. Robbie got on the phone and was quickly given the access code by the landlord. He was having a bad day himself as his wife had suffered a miscarriage that morning. We agreed to sort ourselves out until he got here. 

Colin, Johnny and I walked back to get our bikes leaving Robbie at the hostel. But, finding our way back to the correct hostel was not as easy as we thought. The route we had walked was marked with no entry signs, so we had to take a series of side streets to make our way back. Eventually, we found our way. There was no parking at the hostel, but the road was empty and quiet enough.

 The hostel was not quiet as salubrious as the one on Berneray. It was clearly cheap accommodation for contract workers staying away from home during the week. It was not exactly as advertised on its website. Still we had two large rooms  between us all, with comfy beds and plenty of room. We were all pleased to be out of the weather. Soon we were joined by Stu, Alison, and Jim with his new heavily treaded Bridgestone tyre. 

We headed into town to find a nice cosy pub for the rest of the afternoon. Stornoway turned out to be less than abundant with public houses. Eventually a pub was found near the docks. It was a bit run down, like the rest of the town. But, it had beer. We settled in for a couple of rounds when we heard a familiar sound coming down the road. Colin and Stu ran out into the street to try and flag Finn down. After a short foot chase, Finn was given the details of the hostel and the key. Shortly after he joined us in the pub.

The landlord of the hostel had recommended the hotel at the bottom of the street for food. We could smell the curry cooking as we walked past earlier. It was a pleasant surprise. The restaurant was busy with locals which was a  sign that the food was good. The food was amazing and a reasonable price too. It was just what we needed. We retired to the hostel, and due to a lack of any entertainment, most of us had an early night. 

Even though we had only covered a few miles, it had been a tough day. Tomorrow we shall attempt to get back to the mainland. But, with the storm due to hit during the early hours of the night will we be able to travel? Will the ferries be running? We would have to find out in the morning.

Here is the vlog of todays events:

 

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