Went off on a jaunt to Scotland last week for a foccers gathering (Fazer owners club-unofficial. You are not allowed to view links.
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Login ). The short version of this report would be; 1530 miles, lovely countryside, went f*cking fast, f*cking rain and f*cking midges! Nevertheless, I will attempt to make it a bit more interesting than that.
Disclaimer:
All speeds inferred in this report are fictional and included merely for dramatic effect. The journeys mentioned were undertaken with due regard to the traffic ordinances applicable to the route.Day 1, 250 miles six hours
Set off from Bristol at 10:00 crossing the Severn Bridge at 10:30 heading for the A49 via Monmouth. This is a pretty unremarkable road but far preferable to the motorway and a bike can make decent progress. Through such places as Hereford, Shrewsbury and Whitchurch with the first fuel stop after 130 miles and four hours in. A quick blast between Jnct 18 and 31 on the M6 missed out a lot of the filthy industrial north. After sampling some of the local fare in a McDonalds, I set off on the A59 heading towards the Yorkshire moors where I had been kindly offered a bed for the night by a chap from the fazer forum who I had never even met before. Now despite the heat wave the rest of the country had been enjoying, it started to turn grim and offered a glimpse of what was to come. On reflection, I could have travelled north via Wales and made quicker progress due to the relative lack of traffic. I certainly would have enjoyed the route more.
Day 2, 350 miles ten hours
06:30 and we’re off and it was a bit of a rude awaking as I found myself hurtling along damp unfamiliar roads trying to hang on to my erstwhile host on his FZ1 whilst avoiding dumper trucks and the like. Now, I always take a while to get going in the morning and this was hard work. After 15 minutes of eyeballs on stalks we met up with some fellow travellers on a couple of Blades and a Valledero 1000 (not exclusive to fazers you see). I thought this might signal a slackening of the pace but was sorely mistaken as we then proceeded to hurtle through ever increasing morning traffic along distinctly greasy roads. Suffice to say, I was not in my element. However, I manfully tagged along as we picked up a few more bikes on the way stopping at a bikers haunt named funnily enough ‘Devils Bridge’.
We were taking a circuitous route avoiding motorways where possible. Passing through Kendal, Penrith, Alston, Brampton, Longtown before hitting the border at Gretna. The roads had started drying out a bit and were getting a lot more interesting. The pace of the group was very acceptable given the circumstances. On long straightish sections the pace was well into triple figures (see disclaimer) which I am not particularly keen on so I usually dropped back a bit safe in the knowledge that they would be getting a fazer around the ears when the going got twisty. Now that I was warmed up, I decided to get a bit of my own back through some of the faster sections making sure to pass people just when they thought they were already on it!. However, I always made sure that I remained behind the leader otherwise I would have become hopelessly lost and the hunt for that mad gunman would have been nothing compared to what would have been needed to find me. Anyway the chap at the front was fairly rattling along through the bends stringing everyone out behind. One particular road through the Pennines was spectacular with a pub car park near the top full of bikers watching the passing show. Naturally, I felt compelled to oblige. Passing an unmarked car full of plod on a training run was particularly satisfying.
Moffat was our first real stop in Scotland where we had a bit to eat and met up with one of the Scottish foccers.
The road out of Moffat was fantastic, stunning views and a dry grippy surface. Our esteemed leader went off at his usual cracking pace and spread the group out nicely but fast open sweepers are my favourite and I filled my boots, I let the others get a bit ahead so that I could work on catching then passing them in suitably dramatic fashion. Childish I know but it floats my boat. Ranting it over here was one of the highlights of the trip. A photo halt had been planned but everyone was enjoying the ride so much none of us bothered to stop. Edinburgh came and went then it was over the forth bridge where we met our last companion. On to the A823 and past Knockhill race track where the BSB guys were practicing for Sunday’s race. By now the true scenic splendour and fantastic biking roads of Scotland were revealing themselves although the roads do seem to have a fair amount of tourist traffic on them. The A823 which we were on went through the middle of the Gleneagles golf club just outside Auchterader. A tea stop at the Famous Grouse distillery wisely didn’t include sampling the wares.
The last leg towards Crianlarich and our campsite at Tyndrum on the A85 and A82 passed through some truly spectacular countryside complete with sinuous roads alongside lochs and forests and tight U-bends up against the cliff faces. The surfaces weren’t that good as the severe winters must play havoc with road maintenance up there. Interestingly there were a lot of signs warning of covert police bikes. However, as this seems to be a bit of a biking hot spot and the roads lend themselves to ton plus riding, I suppose this isn’t that surprising. We finally pulled into our destination at 17:00 said hello to the foccers already there and met those f*cking midges for the first time before setting about some very welcome beers
to be continued
