Sam1199's Story - "just Popping Out On My Bike" - Something We'd All Love To Do!

I thought there would be a small trip
Have a good ride will catch up regards the seat when you get back

 

. so have we.

 

The long good Friday.

I’m not bike fit. I’m not used to doing all day in the saddle.

215 miles avoiding motorways in this country is a lot further than 215 miles on the continent, as I’m sure many of you will already be aware.

For me 215 miles isn’t that big a day but I can tell you I was properly pooped by the time I got here yesterday.

Sis-in-law had cooked a lovely meal and 20 seconds after I hit the settee I was gone! Sociable huh.

Somehow got myself to bed slept like a log without waking up, so more of a journey update later.



My bum is still numb though.

 

The long good Friday part 2.

I got to Peterborough late Thursday afternoon. Moved the bike in front of the car for a quick getaway and spray lubed the chain with Wurth dry lube and a piece of card behind the chain to catch the overspray. The chain looked good and clean because I’d spent at least an hour or more on it the previous weekend. The tension was still spot on but I’m wondering how much life it’s got left in it. The rear sprocket seems ok and you can’t pull the links backwards off it but I think it’s not as flexible as it a new one would be.

Immediately Friday didn’t really go to plan. Mainly because I’d had a can of Red Bull to keep me sharp on the drive up the day before and consequently slept badly. So I didn’t get up at the crack of and we didn’t leave at 7. We had a proper breakfast to set us up for the day, loaded the luggage into the boxes, ordered a new kitchen hob and dishwasher, like you do, and took off about 9.30 am.

Only to be informed later that there are no dishwashers available for 6-8 weeks. Which is what I was afraid of, hence to need to get the order in. Is this because of Brexit, Covid , container shortage, general bullshit excuses or huge demand because everyone has gone spending mad after lockdown. I dunno but I don’t need one on this trip so let’s forgeddaboutit and fire up the Akrapovic full system.

Now this full system has transformed this bike. It’s turned it into a joy to ride and every time I hit that button I just love the deep burble. It’s not a top end thing but the mid range is far better and it’ll do 30mph without it feeling like a bucking bronco.

We went through Stamford, Oakham and Melton Mowbray with no trouble. Past Castle Donnington and onto the A50. Turning north onto the A515 at a little place called Oaks Green. From there up to Buxton England’s Green and pleasant land was a joy to behold. After all the rain the rolling countryside seemed especially green.

As we were passing Chapel-en-le-Frith I decided to peel off and get something to eat.

Suddenly there was commotion from my glamorous assistant. This is where her friend lives. I’d forgotten she lived there and I hadn’t mentioned we were going past Chapel-en-Frith. Then again I hadn’t mentioned we were going past Glossop, Mossley or Delph either.

We found ourselves going straight past their house and I recognised it immediately. So we turned around, went back and knocked on the door. They were more than a bit surprised to see us but we didn’t go in as they were still isolating because they were looking after her mother. It was good to chat and catch up but soon we were on our way. Turning the bike around on a slope was a challenge, that’s where you feel the full weight of a machine this size. It’s also the reason why I don’t want anything heavier like a V4 Multi or GS.

Not far up the road towards Glossop I spotted a pub with a garden and motorbikes parked up, it was called The Lamb. They stop serving food at 2pm and we ordered 2 sandwiches and two non alcoholic ginger beers. Various people came in after us and were turned away, I was surprised they shut the kitchen at 2, especially given the trade which after lockdown I’m sure was sorely needed. Apparently you can’t get the staff but I got the feeling even with more staff they’d have done the same.

The sandwiches came and went down whilst we sat in the shade of an umbrella and listened to the sound of guys creaming 4 cylinder Jap bikes up the hill. A couple of them really were wringing their necks and I could hear a murmur of disapproval around the garden except for our table where I was smirking and enjoying the roar. It wasn’t good PR but boys will be boys.





We saddled up again and as soon as we hit Glossop I was aware it was Friday afternoon and everyone was knocking off early. Maybe I should have left earlier after all, I hadn’t figured on Friday afternoon traffic, big mistake. From then until we crossed the M62 it was heavy traffic and I certainly didn’t need the amazing amount speed camera warnings from Mr Thomas. It wasn’t good, it wasn’t enjoyable. Then the ‘shat Nav’ as it’s more generally known decided we weren’t going to Halifax but were going down some dodgy little lanes and doing a short cut over the Moor, which turned out to be the most incredibly bumpy road. The ripples and ridges rrrrrran dirrrrrecccccttttlllly accccrrrrosss tttthe rrrrrroad. We stopped and I backed off the suspension in order to keep my co-pilot happy. That’s the reason I’ve got an S and not a Pikes Peak, easy.

After Keighley things improved again but by the time we reached Gargrave with only an hour to go we we’re in need of a cuppa. There it was, a tea room, how perfect could it be? At five o’clock, which I would have thought was tea time they stop being a tea room and become a bistro and don’t serve tea. Despite the large sign above the door and despite the fact the place was taking no money from anyone because there weren’t any customers, at all. Call me old fashioned.

So we went up the road to an Indian restaurant which did have customers. I asked if we could sit outside and just have a pot of tea. The waiter thought about it for a moment and said,

“Ok, but no beers”!

“No, no, I don’t want any alcohol, just tea”. He didn’t get it, alcohol and Akrapovic full systems just don’t mix, with or without milk and sugar.

We sat outside in the sun and had a proper pot of Yorkshire Tea with Yorkshire water and it just tasted delicious. I have to say it came as some surprise to me that people were eating their evening meal before six o’clock. In fact they were finishing up.

I sat and wondered about this and the fact I’d noticed the Pub beer gardens were all full up before 5pm. It’s not a criticism but just something that struck me. Who’d actually got it right? Who was really enjoying life more as they went along? What’s it really about?

The other thing that puzzled me was, where do they actually grow the Yorkshire Tea in Yorkshire? Answer me that? Certainly not up on the Moors, I’ve just bbbbbeen up there. I don’t know but it’s good stuff and the food looked really good, everyone was really happy and relaxed. Life was good, what’s not to like? No matter what the clock said.

I went back to the bike and as I was about to do the high Karati kick I saw a Multi V4 cruising towards me. It didn’t look any more attractive to me and I wondered how come the Germans had started designing Ducati’s? I hope I’m not offending any purchasers but although I’m sure it goes well, it ain’t a looker. He was probably happy and I was happy with the Akrapovic system and light weight wheels I’d blown the money on instead. Although I’d left the Marchesini’s in the garage until after this trip. All that weight and pot holes probably wouldn’t do the Marchesini’s any good.

The last hour was a pretty good road but lots of heavy traffic. It seemed like everyone was headed to the Lake District for the first decent weekend in ages.

It was a long good Friday but it was properly tiring.

 

On any Sunday.

There was no biking Saturday. We spent the day walking near Windermere and eating, drinking, sleeping and breathing. That kind of thing.

I saw various groups of bikers, a couple of them as large as a dozen bikes, which is not for me. I find it takes too long to get everyone together and it can be dangerous if a load of bikes are moving along too close together.

Due to the heat we decided to walk in the woods, for the shade, so we walked up to High Dam Tarn on the west side of Windermere. Which literally was a cool move. Not for the guys who were doing the Fell running though. Now that really is an endurance test. I’d seen a 30 Kilometre marker, god knows what their total distance was but doing that, several days in a row must take some kind of dedication/insanity. Especially in that heat.

When we came down from our walk there was an ice cream hut, half way through ordering the ice creams I said,

‘You do take a card don’t you’?


‘Cash or bank transfer’.

I tried to do it on my phone but there was no signal. I think the young lady was used to this and presented me with a bit of paper,

“The bank details are on there, just transfer it when you get a signal, no problem“.

How good was that? It wouldn’t happen down south. I made sure to transfer it as soon as I got a decent reliable signal. With the reference:

‘6 ice & 5fl’. Because it wouldn’t let me put in 6 ice creams and 5 flakes.


We did get chauffeured around by the Bro-in-law which meant when we stopped at a pub I could have a proper pint of bitter. I cold beer with a thick creamy head, you don’t get it like that down south either. It just doesn’t happen.

Sunday was a different matter though, I was off for a ride. As long as I was back for a late lunch everyone was happy. I thought I’d leave early but once again it didn’t happen. I don’t usually have any problem getting up early, in fact my week normally starts at 5am on a Monday morning followed by a drive to London which takes longer as every week passes post lockdown.

But this is a holiday, I was in no real hurry and when I opened my lids at 7.54 I knew I’d blown the traffic free ride. What the heck, I might as well have the scrambled eggs on offer and take my time. Besides I’d cooked it for everyone else the day before.

I went up to Windermere which I knew would be busy but I wanted gas. I’d never heard of the brand on offer there. As I’m a bit picky about what I put in my Ducati’s I decided to go out to Ings and get some BP, it was only a few miles.

After that I headed up to Keswick and the Bridge Café which is a bikers stop. It was a good cruise up there, with stretches that gave me the opportunity to exercise the twist grip and the Metzeler M9’s. After all, I’d left the panniers, the top box and the pillion passenger back at the cottage. It’s what Sundays are for isn’t it?

The service the staff and the tea were all really good at the Bridge Café. There were quite a few Moto Guzzi’s in the car park.

I decided that I didn’t have time to do the Honister Pass as well, so opted to just go around the coast. Honister will have to wait ‘till next time. As I was dropping down off the Moor I could clearly see a gigantic wind farm out to sea and of course, a little Island that you’ve probably never heard of or ever been to. I could do with a trip back there myself. The last time I went there I wound up in the cells in Liverpool but that’s another story. I’ve always said I’ve never slept on anything as hard as that bench in that Knick.

The road down to Broughton in Furness was swift and sweeping. I topped up again as I didn’t know when I’d see another gas station and didn’t want that horrible feeling in the bottom of my stomach that I might run out. I had a quick chat with a fella standing next to a 1000cc Kwaker and agreed with myself that I must get a test ride on one at some point. Then as I went off down the road I thought;

“I can’t, I just can’t ride something as green as that. And it’s a straight four, I’m just kidding myself. It looks like a good sports tourer…but could I learn to love one. I doubt it”.

All thoughts vanished along the asphalt as the bends and gears came and went. A fella on what could have been BMW R1250R joined from a side road and the two of us flipped past three other slow moving bikes. He was a good rider and we blasted down that road for a fair distance. Swift but sure.


As I write this the sister-in-law’s Greyhound keeps farting and every time I move, he follows me because he’s a rescue dog and they’ve gone off to the shops. It’s really rancid stuff.

As well as that RAF fighter jets are screaming over and I’d really like to see them, that’s two good reasons why I need to get outside and this is all for now.

 

It was about 115 miles on Sunday. Followed by another walking day. We were scheduled to go back Monday but it’s been so nice a decided to extend by a day.

It wasn’t until yesterday that I discovered my Great Grandfather was born in Barrow-in-Furness and used to own the Barrow-in-Furness Sail Making Company. Apparently you can still see that name painted on a wall somewhere in Barrow. Had I known I’d have carried on and had a look. I had no idea but Bro 5 messaged me about it. Another thing to save for the next visit.

I haven’t taken enough pictures en-route so here’s a few from yesterday.


Kentmere Hall, looked very nice and it looked like it was a holiday let. Nice Land Rover too
You know it’s hot when the sheep are all in the shade.
You can see Blackpool Tower from the Peak, should you want to.

 

A59 west of Skipton. A trucker just seriously flashed his lights at us. I was just at a lay-by and wanted a to stop so I pulled in. No sign of any speed traps, we wondered what else it could be. 5 minutes later, what should emerge from a side road, yup a camera van which had obviously been very well hidden.

Thank you The Knights of the road.

 

I thought it was pronounced ’Ooop north’.

 

In the Heat of the Day.

We decided on a more direct route back. Leaving at 10am we headed along a very quiet A59 towards Skipton. It was a real pleasure to drift along through the rolling green countryside. The traffic was a fraction of what it was on Friday evening and we could easily flip past the odd car, or caravan. Or even a car a van and a caravan in one go. The tarmac was smooth, the temperature was building but the air still had a freshness.

After an hour and a bit we stopped off in a lay-by as posted earlier and rested up in the shade of a coolabah tree, well it was so hot it could have been. A guy with a car walked past us and just laughed.

‘Hot enough for you’?

We resumed and as we approached Harrogate I saw a sign.

‘Welcome to the District of Harrogate’.

What it should have said was;

‘Welcome t’ pot holes and t’ totally shite road surface’.

The change from one borough to another was immediate. Up until then it had been really good.

Well past Skipton golf club, just after the fantastically named Blubberhouses I could see what must be the biggest golf club I’ve ever seen, on Menwith Hill. As opposed to a gigantic 9 iron or 19th hole they were giant golf balls. Going up the hill I thought I’d give the Americans something decent to listen to, I dropped it down a gear and opened it up. Happy days.

The Shat Nav wanted to take me into Harrogate, because I’d put it in as a waypoint, however the signage directed us around it. I had to stop and cancel the waypoint as it kept telling me to turn around at every gatepost. As we joined the A1 I hit the cruise control, sat back, put my feet on the handle bars and lit up my pipe. Boringggg!

I wasn’t looking forward to this bit but we did munch up the miles quickly. The trucks filled the inside lane, cars and vans filled the right lane.

After a quick stop at Blyth services we were soon back on familiar territory. The northern names gave way to places that weren’t southern either. Nor easterly nor west or even midlands. I always felt the area I was brought up in was no man’s land. I was glad to leave it when I was 18.

There were a couple of wet sections, strangely I could smell the rain before I saw the wet tarmac. Just after we turned off the A1 with 5 miles to go, well ahead I could see the empty road steaming. Only it wasn’t just steaming, as we got close I could see a wall of rain. I considered stopping but within 2 seconds of hitting it we were drenched. In 10 seconds it was soaking through the undercrackers. No point stopping.

Can you believe it, all that way and 5 miles from home Biblical rain. At the bottom of what here is called a hill but really is just a long slight incline, it was totally flooded. I stopped as Mrs 4 wheel drive sped towards it. She waved a thanks without slowing not realising I was letting her do a depth test while saving myself from getting totally splattered by her. Put your own words of contempt here.

For the first time ever I was glad of the long suspension, we rolled slowly through. The rest of it wasn’t rivers but it was certainly awash. We were totally soaked and to give the pillion previously known as Dulcinea del Toboso her due, she got off, took her helmet off and laughed out loud, we both did. All that way, then this!

Literally 15 minutes later the road outside was bone dry, amazing. I hear it’s the hottest day of the year.

The bike is now hosed down, wiped clean and dry, put away and covered up. It’s thunder and lightning interspersed with bright sunshine, hot, humid and sticky. What the heck is going on?

Covid or no Covid, which I’ve had anyway and I’m double vaccinated. August 19th I’m going to Spain, the build can wait. It’ll be in the Panza but there’s a bike there that’s in dire need of a run.

 

Great!! As always @Sam1199

 

Hanoi! Glad you enjoyed it. I guess the little differences must be interesting to read about from there.
I presume you have plenty of serious downpours there.

Oh, thanks very much.

 

@Sam1199, when we get a good storm here, typhoons as they are called, there is no rain gear known to man that would keep you dry. The average downpour is manageable, but not a whole lot of fun, so when it rains I tend to use the scooter and not the Scrambler.

It's great fun reading about your adventures, particularly since at the moment we are in a semi-lockdown and taking the bike out runs the risk of getting stopped, and God forbid you should have an accident as hospitals are really scary places right now.

Keep writing... Please.

 

If people like reading, I’m happy to keep writing. It’s amazing, all this happened pretty much by accident.

I’d like it if more people reported on their travels. It doesn’t need to be anything complex, just pictures and the odd location or comment would be really interesting.

 

You’re a natural story teller Sam keep it coming