This trip started sometime towards the back end of 2000 when I
realised I needed to visit Iona again to pay my respects to my
old mate Swanny. Anyone else was welcome along but I was going
regardless.
From this things grew. The originl plan would have seen us based
on Mull but due to foot & mouth closing some camp sites, and
the remainder been too small, it was decided on Glencoe as a base.
This has several advantages, it's easy to find for those
travelling up later and, of course, the Clachaig Inn.
From left; Jo, Hilly, Andy and Harley Dave.
Me behind camera and Tigger in the foreground.
Several people backed out for various reasons and several more
turned up, some I hadn't seen for a while and some I hadn't
previously met at all. So if I have failed to mention anyone, my
apologies, send me your version of the events and I'll add it as
a postscript.
So on with the story...
National Jedi Day (May the fourth be with you)
I'm filling up with petrol when a bunch of guys in Laural &
Hardy T shirts turn up - must be the Sons of the Desert. Weird. (For
those that don't know Swanny was a great L&H fan).
I get to the Weardale cafe by 10:30 to find an XJR1200 parked
outside, I don't recognise it. In the cafe I don't know the rider
either but it turns out he's one of the party, Harley Dave. No I
haven't worked that one out either.
We're soon joined by Andy and Jo, and then Hilly joins us and we're
off up the A68. We do the usual Carter Bar, petrol and coffee
stops stuff all the way to Glencoe and a good time is had by all.
If you have never took yourself up there your extremely sad and
should get a life, one comes free with every motorbike.
From the Red Squirrel site, huge mountain and moon.
We pitch up at the Red squirrel site and are soon joined by :-
and then it's off to the pub to drink beer. There is a band on, him on electric guitar and her on acoustic - this could have been brilliant but they put the backing tape on which took all the life out of it. By the traditional technique of drinking enough it eventually became good fun, until, by the end even I was cheering them on.
Belated wakings saw us eventually in the cafe for breakfasts. Full or veggie complete with coffee refills - I fell in love...
Todays plan is to ride to Iona, thoses going are:-
Much faffing later and we're off to the wee Corren Ferry, then to Lochlinnie for the slightly less wee ferry to Fishnish. The road is brilliant, huge open fast sections that dwarf all but the biggest sportsbikes (OK so Tigger and I got up to the ton then sulked as everyone else buggered off), and tight sniggly stuff with the occasional sheep or hairy cow throughen in. Hairy cows are scary, like all cattle they are extremelly dim witted and large, only hairy cows have huge spikey things on their heads and you really don't want to crash into one.
On the ferry, amidst stunning scenery, what do I take picture of?
Once on Mull it's more of the same all the way down to
Finnaphort and the footferry to Iona.
Needless to say the sun is shining and the scenary gorgeous.
The pillgamage over to Iona is a bittersweet affair as old
memories are stirred. We walk round the abbey, each in their own
thoughts, but it's hard to feel too melancholy about anything
today.
The ride back follows the same route and produces the same grins.
I slow down after a while to take in the scenery. I'm overawd by
it all, this is such a beautiful place.
Iona
We stop at the pub near the Corren Ferry for some food and a
pint before catching the last ferry and riding like twats back to
the campsite.
Many more have arrived,
So we're soon all in the pub again having a party, there is a
band, very good, on and the place is heaving.
A good night...
Another glorious day which soon drags us from our hovels and
up to the cafe for breakfast. The actual move from the cafe takes
quite some time due to a general coming and going of people.
Some of us set off on the Oban road, a deeply pleasurable
experience in it's own right, and we loop and swoop round the
twisties.
I take them off on a detour to Port Appin because it's such an
incredibly pretty place.
Port Appin, viewed from the pier...
... view from Port Appin ...
... view of us at Port Appin.
Then it's more fun all the way to Oban and down to the dock
where many bikes are parked up. We join them and sit in the sun
for a while, chilling, and generally feeling good about life.
It is here that Jo receives a text message from VFRJohn whose
just come up for the party, that there are speed traps on Rannoch
Moor, we conclude that they will also be on the Oban-Tyndrm road.
So of course we're hardly out of the town when Martin and Morag
howl off into the distance on the ZZR, the rest of us maintain a
more sedate pace, 60ish on the straight and more on the corners.
Shit load of bikes at Oban
(including a very tasty green Duke)
Many miles later we flashed by passing motorists so we proceed
with caution, and there, over the crest of a hill, they lay.
Jackets of lime green gave them away but need not have worried
they already have a victim - the pilot of a certain ZZR I
mentioned earlier. Its the gazelle/lion thing, while the lions
are eating the rest of us herbivours are safe.
We try not to fall of laughing as we pass and then enjoy the rest
of the ride.
Tyndrum for coffee and a break and a chance to see how upset
Martin is, three points and £40's worth as it happens.
The ride back to Glencoe is very sedate and punctuated by picture
stops, and just to really piss us off no more speed traps are
spotted.
We stop off at the Clachaig Inn for food and a pint, then off
back with the bikes to return for a prolonged beer session.
The place is heaving again by the time we return so we sit
outside in the garden. The feeling of peace is electrifying and I
proceed to get pissed again.
"...lets give the yellow one a push and see which one makes a splash..."
Wake up, bloody hell it's hot. Hangovers abound on all sides,
the original plan of getting on the road by 10:00am is sunk
before it gets started.
Once packed it's off to the cafe for breakfast, which uses up
what little money I have left. Again the breakfast is brilliant
and the company pleasant. None of us really want to leave, it's
another of those moments that will stay with me, sitting in the
sun, drinking coffee and generally feeling content with the world.
Inevitably of course move we must. As with previous years we ride
to Crianlarich then continue on towards the M9 in a pointless
attempt to avoid the traffic. It's getting like the Peak District,
convoys of cars, caravans, buses, trucks and more cars, and
amidst it all us few bikers desperately trying to make progress
and have some fun.
Eventually we get separated, well alright I get separated, but
eventually find them all at a service station on the Edinburgh
southern bypass.
From there is a blast back down the A68 and home, pausing only
for occational coffee breaks.
Monday morning, early, hung over, kettle boiling
Eventually I'll get out of my tent ... but not jusy yet.
Excellant do. I'm still surprised how well things went and the
size of the turnout.
Many of the crowd had never been up this far on a bike, or at all
for that matter, and it was utterly incredible watching the
effect this place has on people.
We will have to come back again next year.