I've got that virus again. You know the one; head feels full
of wool, stomach churning, mouth like a badgers arse. I blame
eating on an empty stomach at the Laroch Inn, Ballachulish.
Anyway let us recap a little. We've been going to the Isle of Man
for the past few years and staying with Janice and George so this
year we have returned the favour and coaxed them over for a long
promised trip to big Scotland.
Our Manx guests are:-
Friday we eased them into the game with a trip out up Weardale. The weather was kind to us and a jolly good thrash was had by all. We ended up at the Hartside Pass café for a coffee and to take in the scenery, it's quite spectacular and on a clear day like this you can see all the way to Scotland.
L to R: Rose, George, Lindsey, Janice and Tracy. The cafe top of the Hartside Pass.
The big day, can we get our little Manx cats to Glencoe without incident? Er, No, it the answer.
We leave Durham in surprisingly good weather and take the A68/A69 route to Carlisle, the A68 is a hoot but the A69 is, as usual, a pain in the arse; clogged with traffic, cold, wet and bugger all bends.
Bit of a storm coming up the loch. Anybody NOT got waterproofs?
The A/M74 takes us to Glasgow. It's extremely boring because
it's a motorway. OK it's far better than most motorways but you
have to be utterly brain dead to think any motorway and bikes
make a good combination. So it's a hundred odd miles of tedium
alleviated only by increasing hypothermia as we rise up over the
hills before dropping down towards Glasgow.
Now for the tricky bit, how to get this little convoy through
Glasgow without loosing any of them. Stick in one lane of the M8
and go with the flow is the answer, last thing we need is one of
them getting sucked off into the depths of the city.
North of Glasgow and fun begins, I keep them together up the side
of Loch Lomond till the Tarbet junction after which it is pretty
much every man (or woman) for themselves in a mad dash to
Crianlarich. Motorcyclist note, don't believe everything you hear
about Divvy's.
Once we're all pointed in the correct direction it's a quick
blat up the road to Tyndrum and the Green Welly Stop and it is
here that Janice adopts an unconventional approach to bike
parking, lucky there is no damage to woman or machine.
While scoffing us scoffs and drinking us drinks we're warned
about plod lurking on the Glencoe road by a couple of other
bikers. Fortunately by the time we get there they're not, if you
see what I mean.
I set of last to ensure George and Janice don't take off to Oban by mistake, then give it large with the right hand and manage to catch up with Lindsey and Rose half way up Rannoch moor. Then they take off again at speeds that have me paranoid. Note; definitely don't believe everything you hear about Divvy's.
We all regroup at Glencoe without anyone getting nicked after
what can only be described as a thoroughly illegal thrash, then
it's short nip up the road to Ballachulish and our residence for
the week, Laroch House.
And it's a damned fine house too; three story, loads of bedrooms
and loads of bathrooms (very handy cos we all know what girlies
are like for spending time in the smallest room don't we) and
easy off road parking.
We're all sooo excited we go to the pub. We eat because it's got
a bloody good restaurant, we watch the band, who are very good,
oh and drink some beer too. In fact we drink a lot of beer. Which
is may explain my virus!
It's now Sunday and despite yesterday met office promise of
sunshine, it's pissing it down. Oh well, welcome to Scotland!
Janice, "Can I go in the pub yet?"
It rained. It rained a lot. So no biking today then.
To alleviate the boredom Lindsey, Rose, George and I take a walk/paddle
into Glencoe village via assorted cafes, shops and things. The
highpoint is ignoring Jimmy Saville in one cafe who was in
disguise wearing shades and assorted gold trinkets.
Mid afternoon back at the house and it's still chucking it down.
I'm feeling a bit confined so go for a wander up the Glen round
the back of Sgnorr Dhearg and end up getting utterly soaked and
muddy, which as we all know is great fun. My hat starts to exude
red dye(which came as a relief because I thought my head had
exploded), my trousers absorbed so much water they kept
threatening to fall down and my boots give up what little water
resistance they have left. The plan for tomorrow will include
buying some new boots, these old 'uns are well fucked.
Janice and Tracy stayed back in the and prepared a serious Sunday
roast dinner. Big yum, after which it's off to the pub for a
couple of pints before a relatively early bed.
If it's wet and the pubs aint open this cafe can save your sanity.
And still it rains, but not bad enough to keep us in so it's
off to Fort William. Despite the rain I get a good clear run
there and actually start to enjoy riding in the rain, just
keeping it smooth by rolling on and off the throttle.
Once there money is spent on new boots, ron hills and other
assorted nicknacks, so if it continues wet I've got something to
do!
A trip to the Nevis distillery is in order so off we trot. The
usual tour stuff happens, although is slightly damped by the fact
they're not producing at the moment, then the obligatory dram at
the end. The blended stuff is as rough as all blended stuff but
hoping for better things George and I get a bottle of the single
malt between us, just to keep out the cold you understand.
For tea Lindsey does her huge veggie curry thing after which we
take a walk to the Glencoe Hotel. It's as thrilling as last time
I was there, i.e. not a lot.
The weather however is looking better as is the forecast so we
head to our beds with a spring in the step and a song in our
hearts.
The bridge that links North and South Ballachulish. This serves two vital functions; 1) it means traffic does not need to detour via Kinlochleven, 2) the afore mentioned detour is largely traffic-free for those that wish to play.
Oban day, off we all went in the sunshine which was soon to
turn liquid. The coast road from South Ballachulish is a piece of
motorcycling heaven with a wonderful mix of everything from long
straight for the drag queens, big sweepers for the sportsters and
tight nagety stuff for the rest of us. The weather is starting to
bug me so a quick detour to Port Appin is called for because it's
always sunny there and sure enough it is.
In Oban we parked up in the waterfront carpark, free for bikes in
the bike bays, then all went our own way and wandered about,
drunk coffee or shopped according to preference in the sunshine.
Oban, bikes and sunshine.
The ride out of Oban holds so much promise, blue sky, bright sunshine and knowledge of the road ahead. Unfortunately it turns out to be rain for all of the best bits which pisses me right off, Tiggers wear T66X tyres which are great in the dry and a nightmare in the wet. Lindsey, Rose and me are still well ahead of the others (who are carrying Roses waterproofs), consequently she gets soaked and at the Tyndrum junction heads straight back to the house. The rest of us stop at the Green Welly before the obligatory blast back to Glencoe.
This is a good sign. In fact it's a very good sign. I have no other photies of the Kinlochleven loop.
By the time we get back it's so nice Lindsey and I do the
Kinlochleven loop. Brilliant, possibly the most technical road I've
ever been on, imagine the Cat and Fiddle without the traffic and
all the tedious bits removed, well it's way better than that. If
your ever up in Glencoe give it a try, but take it easy because
it's way better than you and has a few sneaky bit thrown in for
good measure. Err, the views are good as well. Apparently.
Later I sit in the garden, soaking up the rays, looking at the
mountains, drinking single malt and feeling extremely smug with
myself.
The initial fine weather sets us up full of enthusiasm so off
we go, first to the sweetie factory (very popular with the WIMAs
this one) and then to Fort William. Halfway there the heavens
open and we're all glad of our waterproofs, except for Rose who
for reasons best know to herself decided not to bring her bad
weather kit to Scotland. Rose later confesses to me she has a
very clever work head, a very organised mother head and a social
air head, guess which one she brought on holiday.
After a coffee break the weather looks better; George heads of
towards Aviemore (but ends up in Inverness), Janice and Tracy go
shopping, Rose squelches off home to get into some dry clothes (again),
which leaves Lindsey and I for the ride to Plockton.
WIMA's displaying an unhealthy (but typical) fascination for sweeties
The further north we get the dryer, and thus faster, it all
gets. It is a spectacular ride through big Scotland on brilliant
roads with bugger all traffic, I cannot recommend it highly
enough to any red blooded biker, the ride through Glen Shiel in
particular is stunning.
Ninety odd miles later we're in Plockton, chilling out and taking
in the views, it's an incredible place and still largely
unchanged despite the fame brought to it by the Hamish MacBeth
series a few years back.
The return journey is more of the same but possibly even faster,
details best avoided for legal reasons, although I do manage to
stop to take a couple of photographs. We seem to get back to Fort
William in a worryingly short time.
Janice having completed a shopping mission has spent her day
making copious quantities and yummy pies, aided and abetted by
Tracy and Rose, which we all consume with gusto.
After which a walk is suggested up a nearby bump called Am Meall
(414m/1357ft). All fail early on and only Tracy and I make it to
the top, it's bloody hard work at about 45 degrees most of the
way. But the views make it all worth while and the 1664 tastes
sooo good afterwards.
Later in the evening we're visited by Nessie.
Hot and sunny day. Wow. Enthusiasm form all participants is
high so it's off and away.
As a warm-up we take the Kinlochleven loop which all enjoy at
varying speeds, the road twists and dives for the full 18 miles
before depositing us grinning and wide awake in North
Ballachulish.
The ride up to Fort William is unusually quiet and I have a great
time, paying absolutely no attention to the views, just heeling
the bike over left and right as 17 miles of perfect tarmac unroll
before me, Tigger is in her element.
We re-gather in the carpark, agree the next stop will be Fort
Augustus and go. Lindsey and Rose tear off ahead, I keep George,
Janice and Tracy company for a while to ensure we're all pointing
in the right direction at Spean Bridge then take off for the fun
that it ahead.
The long straight down the side of Loch Linnhe is a good place to
chill back and take in the views before the roads dives back into
the woods and starts twisting. Any traffic is cleared with a
quick twist of the wrist and soon I'm crossing the canal before
dropping into Invergarry. From there to Fort Augustus is
incredible, virtually traffic free and once back across the canal
the road opens out into a wide valley with forests to each side.
I arrive in Fort Augustus to find the girls parked babbling
happily about cutting up cars, scrubbed tyres and other girlie
things.
Once all regrouped we ride into the village centre where we sit
by the canal locks drinking coffee and watching the boats go by.
With a brief warning to watch out for people walking on the
road near Urqubart Castle we're off again on the A82 for the now
traditional blast up the side of Loch Ness, I won't go into
details only suggest you go there and try it yourself.
Drumnadrochet for lunch, we sit outside the café overlooking the
village green with its miniature copy of the castle, stuffing our
faces and watching the world go by. Highly recommended, you'll
know it when you see it!
Then it's back up to the castle for the touristy bit. The
visitors centre is now very much improved, it's set into the hill
side without spoiling anything, and the intro films starts things
of wonderfully. Give it a go.
The ride back is even more silly or sedate depending on who you
ask. I take much of it at touring pace with just the odd bit of
silliness thrown in, yet again Scotland works it's wonder and I'm
in awe of the beauty of it all.
Just outside Fort William is the Ben Nevis visitors centre, the
rest of the crew take the cable car up part of the mountain. One
day I will get up The Ben but it will be the proper way, on foot.
Rose uses two forks to eat, cos it's quicker and you can get more in that way.
I ride back and decide to do the Oban loop again. Half way up
Lock Linnhe I pull into a layby to take some pictures, the place
is deserted apart from the sounds of nature and the odd motorbike
engine in the distance. The rest of the loop is glorious and I
alternate between touring mode exploring some of the side roads
and scratchin' mode on the good twisty bits.
Much later, utterly knackered but happy, I join the rest of the
crew in the pub. Everyone is as high as kites on the adrenaline
and we proceed to get shitfaced drunk.
Best day yet I think.
The start of the Oban Loop. And it just gets better.
Lindsey has the mystery virus this morning and doesn't want to
go near a motorbike. Many others are also suffering from the
strange condition so a gentle stroll to Glencoe village and the
hospital walks round the base of the Pap of Glencoe is the order
of the day. It's all very pleasant and relaxed, the sun comes out
and we all start to bake, the paths are smooth and gentle and
nothing provides any problem for the alcohol damaged intellect.
We return to the house for some to sleep and others just to laze
about, sometimes it's nice to have a lazy day.
Evening time comes about and the whole contingent decides to go
to MacTavish's in Fort William for a Big Scoff and to watch some
"traditional" highland dancing. Hummm. I'm neither that
hungry or the that culture starved and decide to have a ride out
on my own to the Glenfinnan Memorial situated at the head of Loch
Shiel.
Other than myself and a young couple practising u-turns in the
carpark the place is deserted. I get off the bike and walk down
to the shore, two men are fishing from a small boat on the loch,
all is calm, still and utterly tranquil. I spend the best part of
an hour sitting there watching the water, the mountains and the
evening sunlight illuminating it all in a glorious golden haze.
I'm glad I came here tonight.
Loch Shiel, evening sunlight - what more can I say?
The ride back is very subdued, I stop at Fort William to ring the rest of 'em, they are just starting on the puddings and will be a while yet. The final run down the side of the loch is magical - no traffic, warm evening sunlight, only the growl of a Hinckley triple to keep me company. I keep her in the sweet spot between 4 and 8000 and we just fly, if this is as good as it gets then I'm a happy man.
Bugger we gotta go home! Still all good things must come to an
end, if for no other reason than so we can start the next do!
George, Janice and Tracy take the Oban road, from there they are
off south to call in at Arran for a night or two. Rose has
managed to book and earlier ferry and rides down with Lindsey and
me till we head off east again on the A69 and Durham.
Coming out of Glasgow we get shafted again at the Hamilton
Services (I must learn to avoid stopping there) and then join a
huge traffic jamb due to road works a couple of miles ahead. We
start filtering, most people are getting the message but some
wankers still pull across to try and block us, kinda sad really.
I know I should really boot off a wing mirror in these
circumstances but I just can't be bothered after such a great
holiday. Welcome back to civilisation.
Bye bye Laroch House, see you again some time.
MacKays Agency for stormin accommodation.
The Laroch, Ballachulish, for good food, beer and entertainment.
The Met Office for getting it all wonderfully wrong.