Kernackered. (RBR) Long.

Set off late on Tuesday morning, and having thought I'd heard
something about the M11 being at a standstill[1], decided to go
through town, up the Holloway road, and up the M1.

Whadda mistake-a to make-a, as Captain Bertorelli would say.

The Holloway Road was solid, but was as nothing compared to M1 between
6a and 10. Nightmare.

I had the GPS on the stats screen and my rolling average did not reach
40mph until past Milton Keynes.

Any road, on up the M1 to J42, and along the M62 westbound. Off onto
the A629, and through a succession of old mill towns to Hebden Bridge.

Turned off there, up onto't Moors, past wind farms, to the first
landmark - The Stump Cross. Well, it wasn't a cross. It might have
been, once. A long time ago. It's a lump of stone, with "Stump Cross"
carved on it. At least, I hope it is.

From there it was downhill to Burnley, and onto the M65 north, then
right onto the A59 to East Marton. The landmark here is a
double-arched bridge[2] - which involved a short walk along the
towpath of the Leeds-Liverpool canal to photograph.

Next stop, the Lakes. I set off along the A65, crossed the M6 and
headed west on the A590. Traffic was light, and I was making good
time. Landmark #3 of the day was the canal foot at Ulverston. i.e. the
bit where it meets the sea. Number four was the roman milestone at
Temple Sowerby, on the A66, so I doubled back along the A590, the
turned north along the shores of Windermere - a lovely road, the A592
- if you're not in a hurry. I continued over Hartside(?) Pass, and
down into Penrith. By the time I reached Temple Sowerby, it was nearly
8, dark, and I sought refuge for the night in the King's Arms.

Washed and changed, I headed for the bar, where I was befriended by
the pub labrador, whilst I tried to re-read "Jupiter's Travels".

366 miles today.

The following morning, I was fed and on my way by 8:15. The milestone
was only half a mile up the road, and I was soon on my way to
Scotland. A quick dash up the M6, and A7, and then off into the
lowland countryside. The Millholm Cross was easily located and was
definitely a cross, the a cross-country trek to Bentpath, to the
Telford memorial bench. All the time the sky was getting darker, and
the wind seemed to be picking up, too.

Down through Lockerbie, I filled up in Lochmaben, before heading west
on the A75. A light drizzle became heavier. Then it rained. Then it
got heavier. Then it really rained. A lot. It was gusty, too.

I stopped at a little cabin serving tea and bacon rolls, and when I
emerged the rain had stopped.

The run into Stranraer was completed on drying roads, and having
snapped the monument to the MV Victoria which sank in 1953, I headed
north up the Ayrshire coast. Isn't Cairnryan an odd-looking ferry
terminal? A makeshift pier-cum-ramp sticking out into the sea. Very
peculiar. After a while the rain returned, and having visited Maybole
castle, it was uphill again, along the A70, to Douglas.

With St Bride's Church safely in the camera I set off or the M74 and
Glasgow. For some reason, which I've yet to fathom, I took the
southbound exit onto the motorway, and had to battle ferocious cross-
winds[3] for ten miles just to get back to where I'd been twenty
minutes previously. It might be unfair, but I'll blame the GPS anyway.

The M74 and M8 were as bad as the M1 had been yesterday, and I headed
of up the A82 past Loch Lomond a good hour behind schedule. Left at
Tarbet, then left again onto the B840. Not a good road. Single track,
soaking wet, in the dark, with lunatic locals did not make for a happy
(or quick) journey to Kilmartin. It was nearly dark when I arrived,
still bloody raining, and I was quite fed up.

Still, I got a couple of acceptable pictures of the stone circle, and
headed north in search of lodgings. I had intended to get to Ft
William, but gave up on the rain-lashed promenade at Oban, and
decamped to the Regent hotel for the night.

The A816 had succumbed to the weather, and was a foot or so deep in
water in a couple of places. I didn't spot the first flood, in the
gloom, and was surprised just how quickly the Wing slowed down, from
around fifty, when confronted with ankle deep water. The bow wave was
quite impressive, mind.

My evening meal consisted of a few pints, and a couple of wee drams,
then it was off to bed. Standing outside in the rain for a smoke felt
odd, too. The barmaid said that it was nicer not working in a smoky
room, but claimed that cigarette smoke appeared to mask all kinds of
unspeakable aromas, that had now become much more noticeable.

434 miles today.

Thursday morning dawned grey, and wet. I was a little surprised when
the Wing started first prod, to be honest. The rain eased off as I
headed north, and I emerged from Fort Augustus into blazing sunshine.
The sun had gone by Drumnadrochit, and I arrived at Corrimony cairn in
heavy overcast. Photo taken, it was north to Beauly, then onto one of
my favourite roads, the A835 to Ullapool. After the tribulations of
the previous day, it was a joy to find dry tarmac again, and I
thoroughly enjoyed the run to the West coast. I filled up in Oban, at
101.9p a litre, then headed north to Kylesku to see the memorial to
the X-craft crews.[4]

I was not looking forward to the long trek along single track roads
round the coast to Durness, but the GPS had a "bright idea". I
backtracked to the A837, then cut across to Lairg down the Oykel
valley. It was a single track road, true, but dry, with good
visibility, and I made really good time. Left onto the A9 at Skelbo,
then north to Durness. Two landmarks here, which was nice considering
their remoteness. A Millennium Dyke (or wall) in the bay, and the
stone inscribed "the most northerly point in mainland Britain" out at
the head. It was now around 5pm, and no way was I going to make the
next landmark that evening, as it was south of Inverness. So, I
determined to get as close as reasonably possible before seeking a
hotel. I was wrong. I arrived in Forres, having stopped at my
favourite chippie, in Golspie, for supper, and found the Witches Stone
just along the road from where I had my third fuel stop of the day. I
presume flash photographs count. I made it on to Elgin, where, after a
shower, and a pint, I collapsed into bed, exhausted.

499 miles today.

After a very average breakfast, I set off for Turriff, to see the Old
Cross. I arrived by nine-fifteen, and was immediately accosted by some
old guffer who wanted to know what I was up to. Apparently there'd
been bikes pulling up here all summer. I told him, and he suggested
that we were all a few slices short of a loaf. He may have a point.

From Turriff, it was south through Deeside to Braemar. Her I
photographed an engine from a Vickers Wellington, which crashed nearby
in early 1942. The roads around the area are delightful, enhanced by
occasional sightings of deer, and red squirrels.[5]

It was here I met a chap with an R1150GS, who was travelling with his
dog in the tankbag. Folk were crossing the road to take his picture.

From Braemar it was over the mountains at Glenshee, to Pitlochry, then
West along the B846 to Rannoch station high on the moors. The landmark
is a memorial stone to man who pioneered the railway to Fort William,
a Mr Renton. Unfortunately, the fabled tearoom at the station was
shut, so I set off back the way I came towards Montrose, on the coast.

I stopped at Spitalfield on the way, to have a break. I stopped by the
village green, and popped into the local shop for a pastie, and some
milk. Suitable refreshed, I went to set off, but the alarm wouldn't
disarm. I suspected the fob battery, and went in the shop - no joy. I
was directed to a garage around the corner, but still no joy. a quick
test revealed around 10v in the battery, and the mechanic chappie
suggested it should be fine. I trudged back to the bike, reassembled
the fob, and, prior to phoning for a recovery truck, tried it in
desperation. It worked perfectly, as it has done ever since. After the
rain on Wednesday, I would have expected it to fail then, not two days
later - most odd.

The statue of the Earl of Montrose was easily located, and then it was
south again, in search of lodgings. As I crossed the Tay, I realised I
could probably get the next landmark before dark, so I headed across
Fife to Pitscottie, to find the spot where Vincenzo Lunardi completed
the first balloon flight in Scotland in 1785. A small plaque between
to farm gates seems a little understated as a memorial to such an
adventure.

From Fife, I headed West along the A91, towards Stirling. As I
approached the next landmark, I decided to visit it anyway, and
collected a dead moody shot of the statue of Col. Stirling, the
founder of the SAS. Lodgings were secured at Kincardine services
Travel Inn.

417 miles today.

A late start today(Saturday), as breakfast wasn't available until
eight, but I made good time along the M9 before turning off for Niddry
Castle. Which is where I lost my control card. At least, I think I
did, because it wasn't in the topbox when I arrived at Bolton
dovecote.

This was the first time I ridden the A720 in light traffic, and it was
a definite improvement. From Bolton, it was SE to a memorial for David
Hillary, who crashed near here during the war. I think he was one of
the "guinea pigs" for burns treatment by plastic surgery, but I'm not
sure.

England again! Phew.

Warkworth castle was unmissable on the Northumberland coast, then it
was through the Tyne Tunnel to South shields. I turned up, offered the
barrier monkey a handful of 2p pieces, and was informed it was "silver
only for the machine". I told him it was all I had, and he reluctantly
opened the barrier. It was all I had, too, except for a 5p piece.

The lifeboat "Tyne" was next on the list, then it was into Durham to
Finchale Priory. They wanted £2 to get in the carpark, so I took a
picture from outside the gate.

Into Yorkshire next, after a run down the A1(M) to Scotch Corner, then
off via Richmond to Reeth, to snap the war memorial on the village
green.

South once more on the A1(M) to Skipton on Swale, then east along the
A170, over Sutton Bank, to Sledmere. Here, the landmark was the
memorial to the Waggoners - raised to drive horsedrawn supply wagons
during WWI. The depictions of German soldiers burning churches, and
slitting the throats of young women, drew a formal complaint from the
German government, apparently.

Over the Humber Bridge (£1.70!) - where the tops of the towers had
vanished in the low cloud, it was south to Caistor, to get the Village
pump, with a golden lion on top. A local, who I asked for directions,
had never heard of it. Considering how visible it is, in the centre of
town, I can only assume he wasn't local, after all.

I plodded on south into the gathering gloom, and found Cogglesford
Mill in proper darkness, and took a couple of photos more in
desperation, than anything. I may have to revisit.

From there, it was a straight charge down the A1 and home. I arrived
around midnight.

572 miles today.

So, I think I've got the lot. We'll see.

The Wing is definitely in need of some TLC, having done >4000 miles in
the last fortnight, and more than 7k since mid-July. The brake pedal
has a definite "pulse" to it - not too pronounced, but definitely
there. The rear tyre's almost gone.

[1] It was the A11, not the M11, I found out from Radio 5 whilst sat
at a standstill on the M1.

[2] One on top of the other, like an afterthought.

[3] Which took me from lane 1 to the hard shoulder at one point. Not
nice.

[4] Tirpitz?

[5] And pheasants. Loads of 'em.
--
| ___ Salad Dodger
|/ \
_/_____\_ GL1500SEV/CBR1100XXX/CBX1000Z
|_\_____/_| ..83466../..22358.../..31893.
(>|_|_|<) TPPFATUICG#7 DIAABTCOD#9 WG*
|__|_|__| BOTAFOT #70 BOTAFOF #09 PM#5
\ |^| / IbW#0 & KotIbW# BotTOS#6 GP#4
\|^|/ ANORAK#17 IbB#4 YTC#4 two#11
'^' RBR Clues: 52 Pts:1005 Miles:3416

 

On Sun, 24 Sep 2006 20:44:13 +0100, SD wrote:

I was there today

And the A629


But no where near anywhere else yo went... you mad bastard

 

Kirkstone Pass, not Hartside.

I thought I felt gravity shift the other day. Next time you're up
here, say hello!

 

Yup.

http://mysite.wanadoo-members.co.uk/fyca/Publications/CruisingGuide/cruisingp5.htm

 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/38219192@N00/251684362/
--
| ___ Salad Dodger
|/ \
_/_____\_ GL1500SEV/CBR1100XXX/CBX1000Z
|_\_____/_| ..87446../..22490.../..31893.
(>|_|_|<) TPPFATUICG#7 DIAABTCOD#9 WG*
|__|_|__| BOTAFOT #70 BOTAFOF #09 PM#5
\ |^| / IbW#0 & KotIbW# BotTOS#6 GP#4
\|^|/ ANORAK#17 IbB#4 YTC#4 two#11
'^' RBR Clues: 84 Pts:1800 Miles:5704

 

Cool, SD. I do like reading the reports. It'll be nice to see your
pictures.

 

Decoration, I suppose.

It wasn't you who didn't know where it was, was it?

I couldn't have popped in for a cuppa, even if I'd known where you
lived - it's become something of a tradition.
--
| ___ Salad Dodger
|/ \
_/_____\_ GL1500SEV/CBR1100XXX/CBX1000Z
|_\_____/_| ..87446../..22490.../..31893.
(>|_|_|<) TPPFATUICG#7 DIAABTCOD#9 WG*
|__|_|__| BOTAFOT #70 BOTAFOF #09 PM#5
\ |^| / IbW#0 & KotIbW# BotTOS#6 GP#4
\|^|/ ANORAK#17 IbB#4 YTC#4 two#11
'^' RBR Clues: 84 Pts:1800 Miles:5704

 

"Pub Glaur" is the name for it. Manky carpets, body odours, smelly dogs.

 

Using the patented Mavis Beacon "Hunt&Peck" Technique, SD

Nice write up, thanks.

Fingers crossed for you.

--
Wicked Uncle Nigel - Podium Placed Ducati Race Engineer As featured in
Performance Bikes

WS* GHPOTHUF#24 APOSTLE#14 DLC#1 COFF#20 BOTAFOT#150 HYPO#0(KoTL) IbW#41
SBS#39 OMF#6 Enfield 500 Curry House Racer "The Basmati Rice Burner",
Honda GL1000K2 (On its hols) Kawasaki ZN1300 Voyager "Oh, Oh, It's so big"
Suzuki TS250 "The Africa Single" Yamaha Vmax Honda ST1100 wiv trailer

 

I thought that the 'basin' part was a bitch to find though.

Hmmm, this is one that I may have cocked up on.

Well batted, stout fellow.

 

Are you absolutely sure about this?

 

Many thanks for such an interesting account of your travels.

ITYM Richard Hillary, who was shot down in flames in his Spitfire
during the Battle of Britain. His cockpit hood had jammed shut, and
the result was that he was severely burned on his face and hands
before parachuting into the North Sea. I read his book as a youngster.

There is a short but fascinating entry in Wikipedia:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Richard_Hillary

He became one of McIndoe's patients:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/uk/1636755.stm

"But the mental attitude of the young men, horrifically disfigured and
dismembered by war, was also key to McIndoe's treatment.

He ensured patients had "crates of beer under their beds" and were
allowed to wear their uniforms instead of hospital clothes.

Mr McIndoe also supposedly picked nurses according to their good looks
as well as their skills."

Hillary crashed in a Beaufighter while on a nightfighter training
mission; he and his radar operator were killed.

 

And the souls of a thousand dead mince pies.

 

Exactly. I should have several bars to my #BBSD [1] by now.

[1] Bypassed By Salad Dodger

 

Steady on, old chap.
--
| ___ Salad Dodger
|/ \
_/_____\_ GL1500SEV/CBR1100XXX/CBX1000Z
|_\_____/_| ..87446../..22490.../..31893.
(>|_|_|<) TPPFATUICG#7 DIAABTCOD#9 WG*
|__|_|__| BOTAFOT #70 BOTAFOF #09 PM#5
\ |^| / IbW#0 & KotIbW# BotTOS#6 GP#4
\|^|/ ANORAK#17 IbB#4 YTC#4 two#11
'^' RBR Clues: 84 Pts:1800 Miles:5704

 

It was at the other end of the canal. On "Canal Street".

Big thing, near a roundabout. Old fellah, lives at number seven,
folded newspaper under the arm.

Is it because I is fat?
--
| ___ Salad Dodger
|/ \
_/_____\_ GL1500SEV/CBR1100XXX/CBX1000Z
|_\_____/_| ..87446../..22490.../..31893.
(>|_|_|<) TPPFATUICG#7 DIAABTCOD#9 WG*
|__|_|__| BOTAFOT #70 BOTAFOF #09 PM#5
\ |^| / IbW#0 & KotIbW# BotTOS#6 GP#4
\|^|/ ANORAK#17 IbB#4 YTC#4 two#11
'^' RBR Clues: 84 Pts:1800 Miles:5704

 

I do.

There was a telebox thing about it a while back, iirc.

<checks photo>

Aye, that's the fellah.
--
| ___ Salad Dodger
|/ \
_/_____\_ GL1500SEV/CBR1100XXX/CBX1000Z
|_\_____/_| ..87446../..22490.../..31893.
(>|_|_|<) TPPFATUICG#7 DIAABTCOD#9 WG*
|__|_|__| BOTAFOT #70 BOTAFOF #09 PM#5
\ |^| / IbW#0 & KotIbW# BotTOS#6 GP#4
\|^|/ ANORAK#17 IbB#4 YTC#4 two#11
'^' RBR Clues: 84 Pts:1800 Miles:5704

 

I think it would take three months just to find one....

 

That's because they all pretend to be out when you come visiting.

 

Ah in case all could be well. The 'old' bit threw me into thinking
there was another one, rather than one that had been moved, but after
a few hours in the TI place and two museums, the locals had just about
convinced me that there was only one.

Now you're just being odd.

Stout is more dignified.