Glorious sunshine and cool dense early morning air has Lindsey and I thrashing through the Dales on our way to the Island. A stop at the Hawes cafe provides a brilliant late breakfast and a chance to chat to some like minded souls heading across on a collection of old Brit iron.
Haysham provides some new entertainment this year, not the comedy access route but a search by a most cute looking female security guard. Regrettably she stopped at my panniers. Then I was waved on and on and straight up a ramp into ... Aaaagh Nooo!!!! THE LADY ON MAN. aka the roundy roundy boat. Still we're on board, perhaps the boat will get off early. Then the hours start to drag by...
Mad Sunday, Ramsey.
Conversations on the boat tend to keep coming back to the death of Dave Jefferies during Thursdays practice, it seems to have hit home to everybody. Adios DJ, we’ll see you on the flip side.
At long last we're on the island and making our way through Douglas' rush hour traffic then north to Ramsey and chez Janice.
Unpack, change, etc. then we drag Pete and Cherry with us to the Brit for our first pint - you're not really at the TT till you've supped your first beer.
Music is provided by Barry Nelson. Absolutely perfect, just him on vocals/acoustic and his lady on bass. I'm in a state of drunken bliss by the time we're joined by Janice and George who have just got down from marshalling duties.
First night at the TT is always something special but Barry's music really sets it off. Ace.
Wow it's hot and sunny. As in very hot and very sunny. In fact too much so to ride so Linds and I go for a long walk, take some piccies and chill out for the remainder of the afternoon.
May Hill, outfit giving it the berries
We wander into town for tea then visit the Brit to see the band Shanghi. Good bunch but I'm absolutely knackered and leave half way through to go to my bed.
The famous Mad Sunday where everyone goes silly over the mountain. Or at least that's the theory, in reality its more like the M25 on acid, so Lindsey and I ride of to play in the mass of minor roads over the north of the island known as the Currocks. It's not particularly fast but at least we get a chance to splash about in a ford, have coffee and sticky buns in a church hall and chat with other bikers on the beach.
We get back in time for Janice's barbecue and to watch the hoards go past on their way out of Ramsey. It's starts to quieten down so I plan on a loop myself, by the time I get changed someone has crashed, the road is closed and their backed up all the way down May Hill. I get a coffee and prepare to wait it out, not much point going till the queues have gone down a bit. The road opens, everyone goes off a quick as they can and of course 10 minutes later it's closed again. It then starts to rain and I give up any hope of a lap today.
TT Teas in the church hall - very quaint
The ride through to Douglas (coast road only, they're still crashing on the mountain) for the Paul Carrick gig is fun. The concert brilliant despite the rain and oh boy did it rain. But at least it provided amusement in the form of hundreds of people wearing thin plastic ponchos in pink, blue and cream till it looked like a novelty condom convention.
The ride back is horrible, wet, dark and misty.
It looks like the races are going to be late getting off cos the mountain is still in cloud, rather than twiddle our thumbs we take a ride to the south of the island.
By the time we get to the Calf we're in blazing sunshine. We chill out at the new visitors centre, it's quite nice but as usual they are taking the piss with the prices. The mountains meanwhile still seem to be in cloud so we head north via various backroads.
Back at Ramsey we make a huge curry to feed our ravenous hosts, once they return from marshalling, then sit in the front garden sipping beer and watching the classic lap.
It's a nice morning, the roads are open and I haven't yet been over the mountain but the rest are off to the Ramsey Sprint. So having managed to fill both a 128Mb and 64Mb card (ok I'm still new fangled with my digi camera) a trip to Douglas to buy a new and bigger card seems like a good idea.
Laxey
As usual Tigger gets wasted on the straights by just about everything but upholds honour on the twisty bits. What is it with fat lads and big bikes that makes them slow down so much for easy bends? Windy Corner springs to mind - you know who you are.
Douglas, money offered up to Jessops coffers then over to the grandstand. Nothing much of interest going on there (there never is but we all go each and every year) then it's off on the remainder of the lap. Yet again the pipe and jacket brigade come howling past on every straight or whenever there is a 30/40/50 limit but Glen Helen gets just silly. A whole herd of them are in front of me, I stop twice to give them a chance to clear off but still catch up, so with a cry of "sod this for a game of soldiers" I give and stop at the Glen Helen hotel for a break.
It's the same story all the way back to Ramsey although I do get a couple of bits of fun before it's back to the convoy through Quarry Bends. I slow right down towards the end of Sulby Straight and miraculously the bike behind me does likewise. We both have a good run at that gorgeous right hander onto and over the bridge.
Old BSA in Ramsey
Coming back up May Hill I'm all set for another run over the mountain but the road is now closed (again). Oh well never mind, perhaps someone is trying to tell me something.
The remained of the afternoon I spend at the sprint taking pictures and wandering about. The CMA are there again running some weird and wonderful bikes (BMW K streetfighter anyone?). No really outrageous engineering about this year but some interesting stuff in the bike park.
Just as I'm leaving I spot a tuned quadbike coming up the strip two-up, seems a bit slow I think to myself then they stop at the end. The pillion gets off and start doing sign language onto the pilots hand - the guy is deaf/blind! I don't know who has the biggest balls the pilot or his guide, they both have more than me! Respect to both of them.
Ramsey Sprint
For the evening we wandered into town to visit a few pubs and have a few beers which of course ended up with us pissed in the Brit watching a band. Ace bass player but not too sure about the rest of 'em.
Due to viruses and racing we decide on a walk along the coast and to catch the tram back. A nice easy chilling out sort of day which is good to do occasionally.
Evening sees us driving up to Sulby to watch Still Crazy, good drunken fun as always.
Everyone is a little delicate this morning due to the duetchenmindfukn beir at Sulby, but we all have our little crosses to bear. There is no racing or practice today so Janice and George can join us for a day out, most visiting punters will have no idea of the time and dedication the marshals put into this game.
Off we all go over the mountain to the grandstand at Douglas, items of clothing are tried on and then, provided it don't fail the "does my bum look big in this" test, are bought. Due to the lack of variation we're soon tired of this and ride off to Laxey for lunch and a mooch, then home for tea.
Casablanca play tonight in the Brit, they are now brilliant and the place is soon packed. I itching to get up and boogie but there isn't any space so settle for getting pissed instead.
Tram into Laxey and then up to the bungalow to watch the racing. The race starts in good weather but by lap two the mist descends rapidly, forms a complete white out and leads to the race been reduced to a two lapper and the cancellation of the senior race. Oh well...
Triumph Daytona doing quiet well for itself over the Mountain
Tram back to Ramsey (where it's still sunshine) and sit outside the Brit for a pint.
Evening consisted of us all going out for a chinese and then into the Mitre to listen to the "diddly diddly" folk music session, proper stuff complete with guitars, squeeze boxes, fiddles, banjos, more drums than you could shake a stick at and the obligatory "finger in the ear" singing.
Senior race day. Did we see any of it? We did not. Instead as soon as the inevitable delays started we rode off to Peel for lunch, a visit to the Celtic Jewellery shop and then to Castletown for a mooch about.
And to end the holiday we have a quiet night in, although I spend a good chunk of that sat out back with a bottle of beer or two watching the tower and the clouds playing on the mountain.
We rise at 5:00am to catch the stupid-o'clock ferry back to Heysham, it's only slightly chaotic. The boat almost leaves on time, soon we're back across the water and threading our way through the traffic and into the Dales. Pausing only for a late but rather scrummie veggie breakfast in Leyburn we're soon home and have hardly got the bikes away before the thunderstorms start.
Getting off the boat
Ramsey
Splashing through the ford
View of the Calf
Flying Marshals and friends
Tasty outfit
Wierd but wonderful
Hiya Elsie
The quad
Yummy old Norton racer
Just yummy
Fingers in the ears
More folky playing
Vincent at Castletown
