Having had such good fun at Easter Lindsey and I fancied a return trip towards the end of the year. This was mentioned to Chris and Andy during the Manx week and thus the plan was formed.
The courtyard, The Coaching Inn AKA www.motorcycleinn.co.uk
VFR800, Dave (he's a plumber you know), GS, Fazer and Fudge
Needless to say there was much rubbing of hands, short arms reaching into long pockets, furtive mutterings about traveling that far north, traveling that far, traveling, missing closing time, missing opening time, missing Coronation St and all manner of other excuses leaving the final crew of eight.
Andy and Chris - Ancient Piece of Fudge
Dave and Debs - Nice shiny VFR
Morag and John - Duvet and fluffy slippers
Lindsey and me - GS and Fazer
Despite the worst warning from the doom-mongers Friday morning saw us riding north up the A68 in fine weather. Dave's initial question upon leaving the Weardale Diner as how fast we are going to travel has me a little worried. However we all manage to settle down to a sensible and legalish speed and by the time we stop at Jedbrough for fuel and coffee are all happy bunnies.
Shortly after which we take the A699 to Selkirk, which is top entertainment, then onto the A7 north to Edinburgh which is also good fun (or at least it was once we sneaked past the police car). All this excitement is ended when Lindsey takes us on a "short cut" to the Edinburgh ring road. We still manage to find the A720 before starvation sets in and we're forced to trade the girls in for a crate of beer…
Once over the Forth Road Bridge (free for bikes) it's a short blatt along the motorways and dual carriageways to Longforgan, the Coaching Inn and the first pint of Velvet.
That first pint of Velvet...
It's big grins all round as we down the first pint before checking into our rooms; Dave and Debs are sent upstairs while Andy/Chris and Lindsey/me have more sensible ground floor lodgings. What the D's gain in enhanced views and a smug sense of superiority they loose with the evening rain drumming on the rooflight window...
Once back in the bar food is ordered, more beer consumed and the obligatory bollox talked.
Dave informs us again (and again and again) that he is a plumber which is encompasses occupation, explanation and apology in one statement. Despite this profession Debs allows him to eat with knife and fork (plumbers are usually restricted to spoon as both an intellectual limit and as a perfectly reasonable safety precaution) which just goes to show what can be achieved with the love of a good woman ... and some pretty serious therapy.
Mystery viruses seem to have caught us all during the night. The healing effect of a Scottish breakfast however is legendary and soon we're all ready and raring to go. Sort of.
A text message from Morag Hussy of the Glens confirms that due to a minor attack of yellow monkey fever her and John will not be coming over. Wussed out more likely due to a traditional Glaswegian supper of 14 pints of heavy and a brace of deep fried mars bars.
Our host Ally has a wedding to attend today so can't join us for a ride out but suggests we take the A93 and come back via the coast roads. This sounds like a good enough plot so off we go…
Lindsey takes the lead and heads off towards Dundee. And then for a quick play in the traffic before returning the way we came back along the same dual carriageway towards Longforgan. Unperturbed by this madness we continue in hot pursuit till we leave the A85 and onto some small backroads over the Sidlaw Hills.
Although we have not the faintest idea as to exactly where we are the place is beautiful. My contentment is only shattered by passing a place called "Teen Ranch" which I can only assume is some sort of porn studio. With thoughts like that I know pottering along small, twisting, country lanes is setting me up nicely for the day.
Once over the pass we make dash for Coupar Angus, Rattray and the A93 which is where the fun starts for real. Out of Rattray, over the stupid/scary/slippy steel bridge and soon we're away from the shackles of civilization and heading up Glen Shee towards our first stop, the Dalrulzion Hotel, for coffee and a chance to prepare ourselves for the chaos to follow.
Outside the Dalrulzion, just before the Glen Shee Giggles
The A93 from there on in is phenomenal. It all starts off with a series of tight twisting up'n'down rollercoaster stuff. Despite the fact the road is still damp from a passing shower the boxer just wants to play and as we're wearing tourances who am I to argue?
After a few miles of this things start to open out and I get a chance to look around at the scenery between the twisty stuff. What a place. It's obviously popular with the local bikers and the local authorities kindly provide nice little signs before each really good bit depicting a wiggly bit of road and a bike.
As the miles go by and I realise the rest are some way behind. I keep looking for a good twisty bit I can lurk on to get some picture of the rest tearing about, all keeled over and sporty like. Problem is the sun is shining and I'm in Scotland (God's own biking country) so each time I find a tasty bit I just can't bring myself to stop while there is another bend up ahead. So sorry people there is only one pathetic video sequence and that such a mess I don't know if it's sensible to clog up my diminishing web space with it.
And on we go and, although it remains fun, once past Balmoral things get a bit boring. Mind you I bet he enjoys bringing the Daytona up here for family visits! Sorry mum, it's playtime.
A lunch break is due (I can hear Dave's belly rumbling over the sound of Andy's exhaust) so we pull up in Ballater (I think) where we find a good tea room which provides serious eats for sensible money (if you are up there you'll find it).
It always rains in Scotland. Yeah, right!
And thus refreshed it's a easy ride up to Crathes and the A957 to Stonehaven. Me and Lindsey did this bit earlier in the year so we know it has potential. Then it was wet, today it is nice and dry so off we romp to scamper round the bends with all the enthusiasm (and in Andy's case the precision) of a laborador pup. A least one motorist was left distressed when her 27mph snooze home was rudely awaked by careering fudge at it bounced along the road like a finely tuned vat of spaghetti tipped down a spiral staircase.
Jolly good fun.
Stonehaven has many wonderful and charming attractions but non as appealing as the A92 out the other side.
At any other time the coast road back would have filled us with enthusiasm but after Glen Shee and the 957 it's all a bit wide open and tame. On the positive side it's better than the dual carriageway, so to Longforgan with the minimum of distress.
Yet another evening of drunken debauchery and feeding must be reported back at the Inn.
It's going home time but that can be fun too. Once fed, packed up and paid up we set off on the long journey south. Warned of roadworks on the Forth Bridge take the road towards Stirling and back to Edinburgh, it's not exactly thrilling riding stuff but for this day and this time it can't be beat. I settle back into cruise mode, tune into the sound of the flat twin and admire the scenery. I really don't want to go home. Presented with a junction giving the choice of "Crianlarich" or "Edinburgh / South" it's mighty hard to turn left…
South of the city we take the A68 and then the A697 Coldstream road south hoping to avoid the Gatso Alley. No such luck, the A697 is plagued too.
But they are obvious.
And only point one way.
And bikes don't have front numberplates.
The last statement is purely for information and has absolutely no bearing on the mission home.
Another great do. Good place Scotland. Good place the Coaching Inn. And next year we'll have to go back again.
Andy enjoying his food.
Chris wonders what she ever did wrong to deserve this...
The Coaching Inn
Time to go ...