The trip last year was sooo good, we've decided to do it again.
I make it to the Weardale cafe just before 10:00am. I'm shortly
joined by LTJohn on his trusty speed triple, we've barely started
on some rudimentary conversation when Andy hooves into view on
the blade. By the time VFRJohn turns up we've evolved to an
almost human state.
This been the lot we set off up the A68. The weather forecast is
scarily accurate and we do encounter heavy rain showers across
the A69 but after that it's just the odd splash to Glasgow.
l to r; VFRJohn models the latest in military fetish wear, Andy askes his exhaust to please stay in one piece, LTJohn returns from a quick spot of badger worrying in the bushes.
Despite Andy's comedy navigation routine and the Incredible
Performing Johns we make it through to the Little Thief at
Dumbarton more or less intact. From here it's the usual mobile
party to the Red Squirrel site in Glencoe and well deserved pint
in the Clachaig Inn.
It's good to be back.
Outside the Clachaig, we're in for the first pint...
After we've set up the tents we're joined by Rob and Beth (Ducati
900SS and gorgeous red SV650 respectively). Back to the pub then.
Many pints later Dav and Sue (Hyundai turbo) and Michael and
Craig (ZZR600 and Bandit) turn up and we all get very drunk.
Walking back we just happen to look up. Around us a black jagged
line of mountains and in the middle stars, stars and more stars.
The clarity is stunning. And just a hundred years back just about
everyone would have seen tht kind of sky every clear night, now
some people can go through their entire lives oblivious to it.
This also means it's going to be bloody cold, lets see how good
my new sleeping bag is shall we.
It's a beautiful morning, I'm slightly hung over but have my
coffee. Actually I'm very hung over, perhaps a shower will help?
Well it did, the trip to the cafe however was far less fortuitous
- it was shut. Desperate for nourishment we ride into Glencoe
village - no joy, Balachulish - ditto and eventually Fort William
and breakfast at Mrs MacTavishes calorie emporium. Not exactly
what I had in mind, ie I wanted a huge veggie breakfast on the
veranda while looking at the hills, not some odd snack in a
darkened room in Fort Bill.
Plockton is decided on as our destination for the day and we
leave in the order we intend to arrive, Beth, Rob, Andy, VFRJohn
and way at the back me. I largely travel on my own due to tiggers
not been up to ton plus sustained travel.
The road from Fort William to the Kyle of Lochalsh is utterly
insane, as usual. We continue on at a more sedate pace to
Plockton and as usual the place just blows my mind.
The view from Plockton. Nuff said I think.
A mutual decision is made to take it easy and see the views on
the way back. Rob and Beth take off almost immediately and ain't
seen again till Fort Bill. Andy and John soon also start to wind
things up a bit. I manage to stay with them for the first 40
miles or so of twisting stuff - loosing ground on the straights
and clawing it back on the bends. They can't have been trying too
hard.
Back at the site more people are here. Lindsey, Jo, Lynn and
Derek have tales of woe involving mobile luggage, sulking
electric's and bar end weights demolishing windows. Later at the
pub other persons appear, Jungle, Mandy, Lynn and friend, Giddy
and Ximena. We all get very pissed, the band are brilliant and a
good time is had by all. Again my new sleeping bag keeps out the
chill.
Another hot and sunny day, time for the Oban loop. Out we went;
Beth, Rob, LTJohn, Lindsey, Andy, VFRJohn, Craig, Giddy, Ximena,
Jo and myself - more or less in that order. Quite a convoy.
The trip out to Oban is very pleasant, the sun is shining, the
traffic light and everyone else buggers off but this at least
gives Jo a chance to practice rear wheel steering and me a chance
to watch it.
Oban, after breakfast. LTJohn, now desperate for a new
tyre was reduced to doing his farmyard impersonations to raise
some money.
Actually I think it's a pretty ace picture, and the poster says
is all.
After a breakfast (or lunch depending on how you look at it)
we chill out in Oban for a couple of hours complaining about the
heat before the silly run to Tyndrum. And very silly it was too -
ace fun.
At Tyndrum we visit the cafe and then sit on the wall in the
continuing tropical weather watching the bikes coming and going.
This place is getting popular.
From there to Glencoe things are slightly more restrained cos by
then we're all knackered. Unbeknown to me Lindsey rides through a
crevasse in the road and almost looses it, a later inspection
shows a huge dent in the wheel - there may be a claim on this.
VFRJohn also has problems and although he is fine the bike is
scratched but ridable, I'll say no more about this one as an
insurance claim is pending.
We all had to go home eventually, this is us all parked up
on the A82 by Loch Lomond.
And after four days of lunatic riding and partying the bikes
looked, and smelled, better than us.
It's over for another year and time for us to head for home.
Waiting to set off from the site is virtually unbearable in the
heat. This good weather stays with us all the way down through
Glasgow, through most of the lowlands and only really starts to
change as we approach the border. Surprisingly we manage to hold
the convoy together nearly all the way back, a first because it
usually ends in chaos at the first junction or knot of traffic.
By the time we're on the A69 it's cold, drizzle, mist, murk and
nose to tail traffic. Welcome home boys and girls.