Thursday, 8 September 2011

Look out Cambridge here we come...............

Well I had a great ride down to Cambridge and back the other day to collect a pair of Metal Mule Panniers, black ones at that and very nice indeed they are too.

For some strange reason I woke up at 6.00am and lay there thinking about what I needed to sort out kit wise before I could set off. With a plan in my head it was up, washed and into my trusty Aldi Long John’s, Horizon’s unlimited T shirt and as it was throwing it down outside I decided to put on my Aldi Bikers long sleeve wind blocker top, all proven gear and well worn in.

In the garage I had to re-attach the top section back onto my Heine Gerick Master V Gortex Pro Suit trousers & put the linings back in. Just shows how long it has been since I had a decent ride out on Mr T. Next I re attached the rain collar to my matching jacket & I was ready to get togged up. - oooooo suits you sir(!). I decided as it was really raining very heavily to add a pair of waterproof trousers under my bike trousers at they have sadly started to leak at the crotch. -ooooo suits you sir(!) Mind I have had the suit 4 years and it’s had a hard life.  I discovered this extra layer was a big mistake, as I sweated like a pig all the way down to Cambridge. However, I never got wet and was warm as toast and they were easily removed on arrival. I think I will have to invest in a pair of Gortex walking trousers in the future. Last two bits of bike wear are Biker Gortex gloves and a fleece Buff which I wear every time I ride no matter what the season.

I checked my mobile to find a text from Sean the guy I was buying the panniers from which read,

“Very bad weather here this morning. OK to change time or day if you wish. Sean Cam.” 

A quick thanks’ for the heads up & see you later message was sent followed by a coffee and I was ready for the off.

Plumbing in the post code down in Cambridge brought up 177 miles – 2 hours 46 minutes which I already knew as I had previously checked the location on MapSourse. I had plotted a nice round trip which ran, Cambridge then over  to the Touratech show room in Ystradgynlais in South Wales some 241 miles cross country, then heading  back up north to Rochdale a further 240 miles. So all in all I was in for a great day out on Mr T. or so I thought!

The trip to Wales depended totally on a response email I was hoping to receive from Neil down at Touratech, as to whether my Top-box had arrived from Germany or not.

So with a big hug and a smile I said goodbye to Jeannie, Lilie Rose and B Ben and it was off to the M62 heading due west straight into the Leeds rush hour traffic which was at a standstill even before I reached Halifax. With no panniers on I filtered straight through with very few problems what so ever, give or take the odd late lane changer, moving out without indication as commuters tend to do when moving slowly on motorways.

Now, is it just me or does every bike rider gets wound up at the stupid things drivers get up to as they drive down the middle lane of a motorway? especially when there is no one at all using the inside lane! The blond woman touching up her hair in the rear view mirror, that just happens to be pointing straight at her face and not at the road behind her, stupid ***. She never even saw me approaching at all until I overtook her in the outside lane, startling her. She swerves and gets a good “hooting “at from the white van driver who was just about to pass her in the inside lane. Unreal some folks, it gets even better.

Why, oh why do Range Rover drivers pull over towards the truck in the middle lane as soon as they see a bike filtering down the centre?  I know you have paid enough to own that piece of tarmac through your over inflated road tax and petrol tax but remember it was your choice to buy a Range Rover. I have just one word for you…………….. SHIFT!

And how many drivers these days wear iPod ear plugs in the car whilst there driving? Do they not fit radios & CD systems in cars anymore? iPod head sets, mobile head sets, Bluetooth head sets, what is with sticking something in your ear to drive. Reminds me of the bloody Starship Enterprise crew!!!

Anyway I digress, sorry.

Once passed the Leeds turning on the M62 life gets a lot easier as the traffic begins to thin out, only to snarl up again at the M1 intersection. No drama’s there and it straight over to the A1(M) new junction and a very nice smooth 50mph sweeping bend puts me straight onto the A1(M). Perfect, well done that engineer, shame they have to spoil it with a 50mph speed limit but hey more of that to come soon!


The sandwich bar flags in the lay-by’s are doing all they can to hang on for grim death to the thin poles they are fastened too. Trucks start to drift towards me in the outside lane, whoooo too close Big Man, whey too close. My speed drops from the steady 70mph I had been sat at down to 55mph.

My thoughts are punched back into line, literally by the sudden gusts of brute force wind from my right. It just feels like someone is punching me in the head first from the left as I start to pass yet another truck load of something, heading somewhere and then another full on right-hander to the head and chest.

“This is going to be a right bag of laughs if this is what I’ve got to come all day” I thought to myself.

So with 140 miles left to ride I get used to the buffeting and the bashing from side to side and my speed begins to creep back up to 65mph, no faster though, not today I’m afraid to say.

Then I start to take in yet another amazing game every trucker on the A1 (M) plays every single time I ride up or down it “Truck Jockeying”.  It starts with that all important first hazardous lunges into the fast lane gap, normally where not even a car driver would want to pull out into. Now the more cars the TJ (Truck Jokey) inconveniences’ and forces to brake from their usual 70mph+ cursing speed the higher the points!

Now it is the turn of the slower inside lane TJ’er to speed up to his maximum 55mph limited speed, this is where I start to laugh my socks off because all of a sudden the inside lane in front of me empties, en mass! All pulling into the outside lane behind the Kamikaze TJ who is now kicking out such a pother  I’m glad not to be behind him. For the next half a mile they are neck and neck, I think probably having a chat about how many cars TJ one has amassed behind him.

What cracks me up even more is the slight incline I see up ahead. The TJ’s approach it and you’ve guessed it, the TJ in the inside lane starts to pull away over the next half a mile leaving old Kamikaze TJ disgraced and having to pull back into his original slot having achieved sweet FA!

Anyway the miles soon slip bye and my stomach starts to tell my head I’ve had no breakfast as I was not hungry at 7.00am when I set off. The other thing was I left with three quarters of a tank so was good for 150 miles and true to form Mr. T goes onto count up. Meaning unlike any other brand of bike I am aware of, Yamaha start reserve from zero and count up how many miles you have clocked up not what you should have left. That threw me at first on the FJR but to be honest it works a treat as a test of nerves. So far I’ve only taken Mr. T to 22 miles on reserve, now I need to find out how far I can really do but not on the way down. 

For the next 80 miles all I see are a vast array of multi colored flags ranging from Union Jacks, St George’s Cross,  Welsh Dragons to Neon Green with Acid House Smiley faces on. What is even more amazing is the variation in the price of a “Full English” ranging from £3.00 to an eye watering £6.25 the further south I ride. Strangely enough though the price of fuel is even more astounding £1.31 in Rochdale, £1.45 M62 Services near Leeds and even as high as £1.48 at one Jet Station on the A1(M) near Grantham (that cannot be right!).

As ever just as I start to really need to fill up with 14 miles of my 25 miles used up two things happen. The price of fuel gradually rises and all the petrol stations are on the other side of the barrier, typical. Ha, Peterborough Services 3 miles, spot on. Pulling off the A1 (M), around the roundabout and left into the services I am over the moon to find petrol £1.31 per litre, well chuffed so much so I paid an extra £2.25 for a regular coffee and a Danish Pastry. Almond Strudel will do very nicely thank you. It’s now 10.00am and I’m feeling great after a trip to the loo that is.(too much information Ray!).

 When I was filling up I took it to the very top whilst Mr. T was on his side stand, I then remembered my best mate Ron (Southern Jessie!)always stands over his GSA to fill up so I thought I would give it a try. I ended up putting an EXTRA  1.75 litres in the tank ONE POINT SEVEN FIVE litres I’m still shocked.

A quick text to let Sean know my ETA will be 10.35, how wrong was I, the Danish was so good I just took my time eating and enjoying a text conversation with Jeannie.(have I said what a wonderful woman this babe is?!) Before I knew it was 10.25. Not to worry, with only 36 miles to go it was not long before I was at the Crescent where Sean lives. A new build enclave in the middle of Cambridge with very nicely designed futures which include a drive in garage above which the houses are built. The crescent reminded me of Buxton Crescent where I worked whilst at Harper Hill College Oh so many years ago!

As I pull up I spot Sean on his crutches in my rear view mirror, typical I’d passed his but luckily only by a two garage doors. A warm welcoming hand shake, Helmet off, ear plugs out and off we go to do the deal. The panniers are there in the kitchen sat on top of each other with the delivery bags wrapped around them. Everything was immaculate including the panniers. I’m over the moon and I’ve not even had a proper look. I accept offer of a coffee and Sean sits down and proceeds to tell me about his accident (……what no Danish?!)

Now I have never really taken much interest in The Paris to Dakar Rally but when your sat in the kitchen of a real live Paris – Dakar Bike Riding Competitor who rode in the 2009 rally completed the race and was hit by another competitor in the race in a car, your ears prick up, Big Time.

Sean was hit whilst he was on his bike having un known to him at that time passed the finish line, sustaining, wait for it, two multiple broken arms, a smashed leg (hence the crutches which he has only been using a few months having been in a wheel chair for the most of 2010) and multiple broken ribs. What amazed me even more was the fact the metal object on the car pierced his helmet and the lining but never touched his head, HOW LUCKY was that? I was amazed and thoroughly in awe of this guy who if it had not been for ebay, I would never have know existed.

We sat, well Sean sat I stood just to give my back side a rest, (the seat on Mr. T really does need sorting out as it is far too hard and unforgiving for my backside) and chatted about his ride, how it has taken him over a year to get back on two feet and how his plan is to ……… well let’s just say, Sean has a plan. What a genuinely interesting and friendly guy. It was a pleasure to be in Sean’s company and I hope that we can keep in touch in the future.

After a good while chatting I thought I’d best conclude the deal and get the panniers fitted to the Metal Mule Rack’s. All I can say is they went on a dream and having the 38 litre and the 45 litre panniers in black on Mr. T looks like it was meant to be. Perfectly balanced, both in looks, style and colour, brilliant and well worth the trip down to Cambridge to collect them. I said my farewell and promised I would be picking Sean’s brain again in the future about riding in Morocco.  

I’d discussed the route back with Sean and he had advised me to head across to Bedford. Where some pleasant old lady in a Ford Focus decided to try and knock me off as I crossed a roundabout in the middle lane heading straight over, her taking the outside lane all the way round to turn right! Good effort my dear, I did a loop of the roundabout and headed on towards Bedford where I was going to carry on towards Milton Keynes then up the M1 just for a change.

Strange thing was though as soon as I pumped Rochdale into the Garmin it just wanted me to go back to the Great North Road as the A1 (M) is called. NO! I’m carrying on right, mute button pressed.

Heading due East I still ended up picking up the A1(M) north then cutting east off towards the M1 on the A14 towards Kettering then joined the M1 at long last. I think I must have gone wrong somewhere down the line as I still had 164 miles to do. The wind was really getting on my nerves by this point as it just never let up. (Have a Rennie-does wonders for my wind)

Once on the M1 the banking and traffic protected me all the way up past Leicester but by the time I had past Derby turn off I was ready for a break from those stupid gantry mounted speed cameras every 5 miles or so. My GOD! How much is it costing Derbyshire County Council to police the M1?

As soon as I saw the Matlock/Mansfield turning the decision was made, 87 miles on the Garmin recalculated to 62 miles and added another 35 minutes. I could live with that just to be out of the damn wind. The route took me straight through Matlock, past my Dad’s place and on through Bakewell, a quick right at Ashford in the Water and out past Monsal Dale which looked stunning.

I rode along the B6465 and joined the A623 towards Buxton and then Chapel-en-le-Frith, then Glossop, Ashton-Under-Lyne and back into Rochdale.

The only drama or more be it the annoyance, was having a stupid driver tailgate me at 65mph all the way down the duel carriageway from the M62 turning, heading towards Rochdale only to see the Git was on his mobile phone gassing. Cheeky it never even stopped as he drive past the Rochdale police station, 2 and half miles of busy traffic, six sets of lights and three major turns and the git never once moved the damn mobile from his head. Tosser!

So at 3.45pm I arrived home with panniers intact. Happy and all set for receiving my Touratech Rear Rack and Top Box. Sadly that’s going to be a while as the email I was waiting for arrived when I got home to say all my kit was there all except the Top Box. I am so happy that I had not ridden down to Wales after all.
All in all I had a great day out, meeting a real life star and making it back in one piece, now that’s what I call a result!

Writers Disclaimer - All Italic inserts added by proof reader and editor J!

Monday, 5 September 2011

2011 IOM TT1000

You are not a name, you are a number and your number is 23!


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"You are number 26"

“Right I’m off to bed”

“Oh, come on, one more lap!”

“If you want to do another lap you can do but I’m off to the Inglewood now!”

“Kin hell!”

“You coming or what?”

“Yes” knowing full well he was right, shit he’s always bloody right, how annoying is that?



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Time to get registered and start the IOM TT1000 1845 hours Thursday

Its 0430 hours Friday morning and we have just ridden 10 laps of the IOM TT track in a one go having started at 1865 hoursThursday. We still have another 17 to do & we’re riding back to the hotel to “go to bed” (separate beds mind). I can’t believe this! All sorts are going through my head, will we till finish within the 30 hours cut off time.

Ron wants’ breakfast...... as if that’s going to happen, not a chance!

“Right, an hour and a half in bed and back at the bikes for a 0700am off. OK folks?”

“Reight Oh!”

“What about breakfast?”

“Forget breakfast!”

“Do you want a brew?”

“Coffee, milk, one in mine cheer’s Big Lad”

Half a cup and I’m out like a light! Next thing I know I think I’m on a submarine as the Sonar Alarm sounds. Come on, time for the off.

Twenty minutes later I’m outside, kitted up, engine running, Daz is already sat on the step waiting, Ron jumps on his trusty GSA and we’re off “up’t hill” as Daz would say in his cracking Barnsley ascent.

We re-join the track at the garage just after the grandstand. Head down the hill through the lights in the dip, on green just for a change! We ride down to the two adjoining roundabouts, straight down the left side of the parked cars and follow the next car round. If anyone’s going to get wacked from the on coming early morning traffic, it’s not going to be me! Along the straight, sharp left at Brandon Bridge then sharp right, over the mini roundabout another nice straight then up, down and into the 30mph village. Down through the village and we are back into the swing of things, Daz leading, Ron behind and me following.



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Daz leading with Ron following (taken Saturday am)

The course is just amazing & I can’t believe weare riding round the IOM TT track, it’s just fantastic and I’m grinning from ear to ear. We start to pick up speed as we head out of the village and up the hill, 40mph turns to 50mph signs then 60. Everything is just spot on even if my Star-com as packed up! Except for the next set of road works as we entered Crosby, but every time we passed the guys they changed the paddles to GO! “Cheers mate” I shouted as I went past. I got the big thumbs up from the road worker with the STOP/GO paddle. He did this every time we went through, what a star!

The track winds this way and that and I could bangon about the whole circuit but I’ll just fast forward to Sarah’s Cottage. A great left hander that after messing about taking it at 30mph with the traffic I realised, “it’s not a bend at all” in fact it is almost straight. The corner of the cottage looks like it is sticking out into the road and there is what initially felt like a 2 foot drop when in fact it’s just a small drop. You get a clear view of the road on the other side from the far right side of the road so that’s where I found myself. Lining up and just riding straight through. Perfect!

The bright yellow van parked in the right hand drive signals the start of an open stretch passing the farm on the left and over the crest of the hill, dead straight run for about a mile then a tidy right downhill, smooth left then left and left again........... just thinking about the lines all the time.

Before I know it we’re passing standing traffic at the road works, third set in 5 miles, filleting to the front to find the righthand side of the road being dug up and a clear run up the hill in front of us.Lights change and we climb the hill with a perfect right hand bend that if you catch it too near the left, it wants to spit you straight off the road.

I could not believe how few of the other 26 rider we saw. In total I would say we saw about 10 on the route in the whole 28 hour we were riding. We did tend to meet up at the pit stop as there were burgers and hot dogs laid on Thursday evening, plus copious amounts of tea and coffeeflowing through out the entire night & day. A big, big thank you to Chris & all his team.

There are so many great sections of the track that I could go on about forever. My favourite had to be climbing out of Ramsey.

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Ramsey in the mist.

The three bollards on the sharp left hand turn were like an on switch. Steady as you go up the Hairpin left hander then just wind it on straight up into the first right hander, followed by a short straight into another slightly tighter right round the long left hand that took you straight into the last and best as far as I was concerned right switchback but with practice it just set you up for the climb. Tucking in tight to the bushes on the first left then running as close as you could to the painted dry stonewall. Then Mountain Mile just lay there, after a couple of very nice white posts on your right and a couple of painted bridges.


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I just loved this section.

My heat was pounding heading over the tops thinkinghow fast the TT lads would be flying round in just a couple of week’s time. Laptimes around 17 – 20 minutes and we were taking 55 minutes....................“Un believable”



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The Bungalow in all it's glory.

Through a few more curves and bends past Joey at the side of The Bungalow, over the tram tracks and it was time to pull in and have our millage checked again.


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The Pit Stop had been parked where the logs are in the centre of the picture.


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The Pit Stop from Heaven.

Chris and the team did an absolutely amazing job,

“Number”

“23”

“Mileage”

“37,670”

“What lap are we on?”

“Not sure, I’ll let you know next time round!”

“Cheers, mate”

“You OK, do you want a brew?”

“Nope we’re off, catch you later!”

And away we would go, until we got to 1030 hours,

“Right lads, you have 14 laps to do and 14 hours todo it in!”

“No sweat” no really, there was no way I was going to sack this ride off; I was having an absolute ball! Rain, pea soup fog and gale force winds all through the night and we were still churning out the laps. It gave us something to think about though.

Needles to say we carried on, and on, and on.Stopping only to answer the call of nature and top up on fluids and scran.

The day was amazing and at about 1400 we got to seethe mountain top for what would be one of only 4 laps of clear vision. As the night came in and with only 3 laps to do we ploughed on. The shocker came when Daz & I were advised we could just ride to the Creg Ny Baa and that wouldbe our 1000 miles complete.............................. Na! We‘re not havingany of that so at 2100 hours we headed out for our last lap and slowest of the day.

I filled up at 0200 hours from on of Chris’s 20litre Jerry cans, without which my ride would have been over there and then.

Coming in to finish at 2230 hours, the pit stop had vanished as Chris had packed most of the kit away so we had our clocks read forthe last time in the pitch black.

In good old IBA fashion we then stood chatting foranother three quarters of an hour, the only light being my head torch which Ihad put on to fill up from my jerry can for the last time. If it had not beenfor the team filling quite a few 20 litre cans with fuel the whole challengewould have ground to a halt in the middle of the night because all bar onepetrol station closed at 2200 hours with just one in Douglas remaining open until2330 hours.

Heading back to the Inglewood Hotel Daz & Ronvanished, so half way through my shower Ron appears with the Donna Kebabs, Top Banana and so ended the IBA Ireland TT1000.

Next day was a “Shopex” to the TT T-shirt shop,followed by a leisurely ride back over the mountain route the opposite way in glorious sunshine to the biker cafe in Ramsey.

Riding back to Douglas over the mountain. I stopped every couple of miles to take pictures as the fog descended. It took me so long Ron & Daz came looking for me which was a bonus as we got some great pictures of Joey Dunlop’s Memorial.


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The Three Amigos

Everyone met up at the Grandstand for the IBA Group picture. This ride must be one of the most multi-nationally supported riders with riders from Ireland, USA, Canada, Sweden, Switzerland, France, German, England, Scotland (South Africa), Wales, Finland, sorry if I missed your country of origin.

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After the photo shoot, it was down to the pub for lunch and a party with the founder of the IBA Mike Kneebone picking up the drinks tab, thank you Mike.

So all in all I for one would like to thank everyone who made the IOM TT1000 an absolutely unforgettable event

2010 - Vilnius or Bust!

SS1600KM 


SaddleSore 1600KM
(Thank you Werner for the patch)


A slightly different Lithuania RTE Report!

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“Shi*, Shi*, Shi* & Shi* AGAIN! Aaahhhh!!!”

“I can’t f.... believe this”

Half an hour into a nice relaxed flower sniffing ride to Germany and the thought just poped into my head.

“YOU’VE FORGOT YOUR PASSPORT YOU PRAT!”

Cursing and swearing I peel off the M62 at junction 25 Wakefield still screaming at myself, so loud the guy in the car at the side of me starts shaking his head! Only to see the sign M62 and get back on the motorway.................. Still heading towards Leeds.

“For F.... sake Raymond what are you on today”

Arriving back home Jeannie was there with passport, “Have you got my E111 card?”

Just about to set off I remember I’ve forgot the disk lock (something I will later regret remembering).

“I will get away today, honest” & with that the adventure really began.

Calling in to see my Dad at is butty shop in Chesterfield was great as I’d not seen him for a good few months. He stocked me up with a few Tuna Mayo Bap’s, Kit Kat’s and a bacon butty to see me on my way. Quick bob in to Temple Normanton Cemetery to have a chat with my Mum & clean her grave up a little and that’s me set.

Arriving at Dover Chunnel it’s another £12 to change Slowpokes ticket times, which I’d bought from him a while ago, to 1700 Thursday returning 0700 Monday morning. Loads of time.

I received a text from Roly saying he was at Gutersloh Services and making good time for Berlin. My reply was short and sweet “I’m still in bl**dy England”

The plan was to meet up with Philip, Steve, Roly & Paul at the Brandenburg Gate Friday at 1200 noon. Initially it was just Philip & I as I had been toying with the idea of doing a SS3000 Baltic Ride. I always like to push the boat out at the end of the year, but having taken some very good advice from Philip & Timo in Finland I sacked the idea.

By the time I got to Gutersloh it was 9 at night and the temperature was starting to fall off. I checked the mobile to find a couple of messages from Roly saying he was at the Ibis just outside the city centre, address & number included. A quick call and I had my room sorted. Just a short blast up the autobahn and bingo, Berlin here I am 0200 am in the morning.

“No brew kit!” Great. So out comes the Jet Boil and in 10 minutes its coffee and Spicy Mince (which I’d brought from home) down the grid. Sorted! Rest of the room was great.


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No Brew Kit? Not Impressed!

Breakfast at 8.00 am followed by coffee with Roly and were ready to pack up and clear on out.

“You sorted Roly?” The nod comes and away I pull. Only to find myself stood at the side of my bike on its side for the second bl**dy time!

“Jesus H Ch***, give us a lift, “

“What’s to do?” Roly says putting the side stand down as I Oyke the Beats off the deck!

“Fe*** Disk Lock!!!!”

Well that was my three done for this trip, thank the Lord.

Brandenburg Gate was just straight down the road, 20 minutes and we were there. Stopping at the front too take a couple of pictures watched keenly by the Police, I didn’t notice the 10 Japanese tourists behind us. (If you look you can just see them walking our way in the picture).


                                           
Watch out Roly, In Coming.

What happened next was surreal, every single one came and stood at the side of me, put there arm round me and had a picture taken..................Mad!!!

I got them all to stand together and took one of them which they thought was hilarious.



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Say Cheese!

Roly & I mooched on round to the other side of the gate and parked up, had a wander, I hit the shops, (yes Lyn I am a shopaholic) and found a nice cafe in the corner. We spotted Philip & Steve , shortly after Paul arrived. They rode round to where we were and we headed off for a brew and a chat.


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An hour later we were all set for stage two, 
the ride to Warsaw, Poland.

As we kitted up ready to head out we had one of the German Police officers come over to have a chat with clip board in hand. I’m grinning as I type as the conversation which followed was hilarious at the time. In perfect English he asks Philip.

“Good afternoon Gentlemen, can I ask how long you will be in Germany”

“10 or 15 minutes”

“Oh! Ok?” & duly put his pen back in his pocket and walked away.

Philip & I just fell about the place, Priceless!

The ride out of Berlin was interesting with Philip in full on European Riding Mode, i.e. footpaths, cycle paths, through barriers, round trucks & busses by which ever means possible, but this was nothing to compare with the ride which was to follow through Poland. (I need to point out that NO Laws were broken during this escape from Berlin).

Crossing the border and into Poland was a nice steady ride down the autobahn. Once in Poland and on the first and pretty much the only stretch of motorway, I spotted a couple coming up behind us in my rear view mirror. It was Kev & Lyn.


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Next stop Warsaw, give or take a thousand trucks!

So the whole Lithuania RTE Crew where together and that’s the way we stayed through the world’s longest truck traffic jam. Mile upon mile of standing traffic, I estimated somewhere in the region of 30 miles but it felt like a 100 miles. We rode round the lot. It was horrendous as the road was a single track A road, with double white lines with the odd break for overtaking,which oncoming traffic was doing. It just went on forever till we came to the cause. The road through the village had a hole in it in front of a school. It was being controlled by two road workers with hand paddles letting 3 trucks through at a time. Unreal!


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A Great shot of Tydee (Hope you like it Paul).

Heading through the night we all, apart from Philip, arrived at the Ibis Warsaw, checked in then parked up in the basement. Philip arrived shortly afterwards to join us for Dinner in the restaurant. We all swapped horror stories of the ride through Poland & I taught Kev, Steve & Paul a few new words & phrases, Bl**dy Southerners (meant in the nicest possible Northern way).


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Warsaw

Tomorrow we ride into Lithuania. Philip & Steve headed out early, I found myself all set and ready to go half an hour later so text Roly to let him know I was riding up alone and off I set.


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I Spotted this view tower & Just had to have a look.

I plumbed in Vilnius then zoomed in to check the route. It had done what I expected it to do, the Mapsauce had cut through the corner of Belorussia. I added Augustow as a way point and re set my route. Pete had warned me a while back when I was planning on riding to Minsk that I would need a visa to enter Belorussia. After doing a little homework, posting my passport to the Belorussia embassy with £40 was not an option 2 weeks before leaving and paying double for poling up in London did not enthral me.


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Who needs a GS when you've got a FJR Anything's Possible..........well almost!

The ride north was fantastic, through three National Parks, woodland & forests with every colour you could imagine. I was on and off the bike like a man possessed taking pictures all the way to Lithuania.


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Well worth the "cross country approach"

I still cannot get my head around how beautiful Poland & Lithuania are. So much to see but with such an enormous gulf between the have’s and the have not’s.


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On one side of the road wood dwellings on the other multi million pound industrial units but with no one anywhere in site. Strange?


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Above & Below were taken sat on the bike, one side of the road & then other!


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The old wooden homes where so quaint but so very sad. The grave yard heading into the villages were all being tended by doting relatives with flowers & candles in hand. It brought a tear to my eye seeing the shimmering candles on the return trip still burning on the side of the hills.


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I was surprised to arrive in Vilnius at the Holiday Inn only 10 minutes after everyone else. Their final approach to Lithuania had been via a 20 mile stretch of cobbled road & both Philip & Steve had met up with Kev, Lyn, Paul & Roly en route.


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After a great Cheese Burger and Chips it was a short 15 mile ride to the Centre of Europe Monument where we all parked around the Plinth & took a few pictures. Aided by the lady who came over to move us on, as we should not have been parked there.


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A quick ride back to the hotel and it was out to eat in a local restaurant. Fate was looking after us as it was on the 5th floor of a great shopping centre, so I did what I do and shopped my way up to the 5th floor. Bliss.

Philip mentioned he would be setting out early and so I made plans to ride with him as far as Berlin on my way back to UK. I felt we had a really good ride taking in some great scenery and both enjoyed how different Poland is without the thousands of trucks on the roads. We set off at 3 am local time and made good progress all the way to Berlin where we stopped and had lunch at a very nice American Dinner at the services just south of the city.

I logged an SS1600k on the way back to Calais, covering 1227 miles. The ride from Dover to Rochdale was horrendous due to me feeling the effects of tiredness. I stopped at Thurrock Services & had a Chicken Burger at midnight. 10 minutes kip and set off again only to have to stop every hour to scratch my head. It drove me insane all the way back, first time that has ever happened to me. 20 minutes on the floor at the side of the bike near Newark on the A1 set me up for the final leg home. It was -2 C heading over Saddleworth Mores on the M62. Arriving home at 4 am it was straight into the bath to wash my hair, what bit I have.


All in all I for one felt this was one of the most enjoyable and fun European RTE’s I have attended this year. The ride to the Centre of Europe was eventful and exiting & I can’t wait to get out and about next year. Met up with some great people& even spoke to a few! Thank you all for a really enjoyable RTE.


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Vilnius 2010           

Precaution – Ron and Ray Ride Again! Part 2

SS2000KM in 24 Hours



SaddleSore 2000KM


The Road Home

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Friday 27th

“Ron you awake”

“Ye, just”

“It’s half ten”

“WHAT! Sh**, what times breakfast finish”

“9.00am so we’ve missed it and we won’t be setting off at 10.00am either”

Just then there was a knock at the door, I grabbed my trousers off the floor and hobbled over, forgetting to put them on.

“Olla................. er, oh!, er .......”

The maid legged it off down the corridor very red faced.

“Think we best get a move on Big Lad”

“No sweat, need a shower though”

Showered, dressed and packed in a matter of 15 minutes we headed down to the bar, as it was last night. Today in the full light of day it had turned into a glass fronted semi-circular cafe which looked like a different place altogether.

“Told you we could have come down these stairs last night”

“Or right smart arse, coffee and a Palma ham beget?”

“Sounds good to me”

We stood at the bar discussing the ride ahead, SS2000km in 24 hours. All we need is a start witness which as ever took a bit of doing, barman – no, lady all in white sat outside at side of the bikes – no, gift shop attendant – “a little” ............. ‘come on’ form signed, thank you Cristina.


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"No Comprende"

“You all sorted there”

“Yes think so, yes good to go”

So we walked over to the petrol station and bought a couple of bottles of water for our start receipts as we had filled up the previous night for the end receipts. Stowing the bottles between the Givi rack and my rear seat, as I had been doing for the last couple of days. Ron borrows my pen which I have velcrode to the bike frame (my best farkle so far, two sided stick Velcro, one on pen one on frame, job’s a gooden). Something he has been doing since Dover, writes the start mileage on the back and that’s us ready for the off.

Nope wrong, Ron sparks up a tab!!!

I wondered over to the other side of the car park to get a good photo shot of the mountains.

20 minutes later we start our engines, Hay Ho the joys LD of riding. My face gives my thoughts way, well it does where Ron’s concerned, everyone else just thinks I’m a stroppy git.

“What’s up with you man, we’ve got 24 hours”

I fancy Alacate for lunch but it turns out its not on our route we are due to hang a right 20km before we get anywhere near it towards Valencia. That’s where ‘fate’ kicked in and Ron did a fly buy on the junction, cheers Zumo 550 your a star. Lunch over looking Alacante was fantastic, temperature was 88 degrees F.


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Topping up my tan on a deadline

We chatted about what had gone wrong yesterday with the SS2000 or BBG2500 and how we had lost so much time by just enjoying the ride. It’s at this point Ron points out I’m as much to blame. Being stripped off to the waist topping up my tan didn’t put me in a very good position to argue. Ron’s IBA Wrist Tan which he picked up over the last couple of days looks well.


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IBA Touring Tan

We got back under way after a good half hour break ‘and a tab or two’ and headed to Tarragona along some more of Spain’s amazing dual carriage way motorways. This is when I almost became ‘a section of new barrier’

Just for a change I had taken the lead and was riding round a really nice smooth right hand bend positioned 2 foot to the left of the central broken line. Speed was 120kmh just shy of 80 mph which is the limit on the motorways. Overtaking a couple of slower cars, banked over thinking what a great angle when.....................

Whoooooooooooooosh, a black Golf GTi overtakes me on the outside missing me by all of a foot. The side draft pushed the bike deeper towards the road. The car on my right hit the brakes straight away but all I could do was wind on some more power to stop my right peg or pannier hitting the deck. The bike lifted unfortunately the ‘Red Mist’ didn’t.

I was behind the Golf, two girls in the back two young lads in the front, I pulled alongside, needless to say the 120km limit was the last thing on my mind. I glared at the two in the front (totally forgetting they could not see me for my black visor). The girls were jabbering but the driver was ‘Snow White’. He topped out so I just pulled ahead and back into the fast lane. I was ripping.

“Ray, leave it, you listening, leave it”

“I’ll ...................... him”

“Leave it, I can see he’s got the message he’s all over the place”

The voice of reason had spoken, I pulled over and backed off the power. Not a happy man I dropped back in behind Ron.

“Cheers Big Lad”

“Not a problem, you OK?”

“I will be”

We passed the Golf at our normal cruising speed of 115km just a few miles up the road. He will think twice about spooking someone with a UK registration plate in the future, well at least I hope so.

The only traffic of the whole trip was 70km short of Barcellona, filtering was a breeze but filling up was an absolute pain. So many cars and having to take your cash card into the filling station before they will switch on the pump if very time consuming.

As is waiting for Ron to finish his tab! But he know I enjoy the breaks too.

Heading due north to the French Boarder we just get into our rhythm and cracked out the miles, the sea on our right the mountains on our left, beautiful. It was then that I realised how comfortable the Air Hawk really was and what’s more I had not thought about it all day. The heat was still causing my inside legs to chafe at the very top, Ron suffered in much the same way. However, Ron decided to ‘aerate’ his parts at one fill up by wandering around his bike with his trousers down round his knees. No sorry I did not take a photo!

Riding through France during the night was very enjoyable as the roads were clear except for the odd 100 trucks or so. We made good time, tolls where a breeze, toll sign, back off left glove off, stop ticket out, wallet on top of ticket on tank, ticket to attendant, cash, stow wallet, glove on, pull over to left to wait or catch up, “All good” go.


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There's a storm on the horizon

5 in the morning we filled up with fuel, had a coffee, one of us had a tab and as we were just about to remount and head out I hear Ron cursing!

“You Ok?”

“Can’t find my keys”

“What keys, you bike keys?”

“No my top box key, house key, Jo’s house key, the lot, gone”

My stomach turned, what were we going to do, go back and look for them, the last time Ron had seen them was at our evening meal stop just south of the French boarder.

“My passport and ticket are in the top box”

“I’m going to have to bust it open”

“Hold on let’s see if my key fits before you start breaking open a £300 Givi Topbox”

It didn’t!

Ron tried prizing it open, no chance.

“Let me have a go”, so screwdriver in hand I........................................

Putting his passport and ticket in his pocket, texting Jo to drop him a key off at home we hit the road for the final leg of our trip. Top box relocked and with a bit of gaffer tape for good measure. (I’m pleased to say the box is in perfect working order and the spare key in Ron’s flat worked a treat on his return).

So the route north was Diezma, Alacante, Valencia, Tarragona, Versailles, Les Cheres, Chateuvilla, my favourite ‘Aire De Champ Roland’ and finally Calais Ferry Terminal.

Just as we thought everything was in the bag we arrived at Calais Ferry Terminal with 50 minutes to spare knowing we would have to pay to get on the next ferry at 1230 as we were booked on the 6.00pm one.

Typical, we missed the turning, then I turned up the wrong junction on the next roundabout, Ron carried on and after a quick scoot round town I joined him at the terminal, 43 minutes to spare.

The queue for the passport control was mad with about 80 bikers heading home after the Assen Race weekend, 38 minutes. We were starting to flap, we still had no end receipt. (top tip get one at the service station into Calais, especially when you have 220 km in the bag over 2000km).

A bit of queue jumping and were at the front ready to pay.

“Sorry this is the coach terminal and I have to sort the coaches out first”

“We are on a timed ride we NEED a receipt”

“Sorry park over there and I’ll be with you in a minute”

I looked back there were 3 bloody coaches! 32 minutes.

“Ron lets go to the ticket office”

“She said wait here”
“LOOK at all that lot!”

“Not sure”

I went back and asked if it would be quicker to walk over and get a ticket from the office, “Yes” was the reply “but you need too take your bikes with you out of the terminal”

We turned round and rode the way had come in, flagged down by a very friendly officer who pointed us the other way and to a closed gate, 29 minutes.

The gate took forever to open, Ron dived round me and straight to the ticket office, parked up jumped off and started legging it round the building.

“S*** I’ve forgot something” and had to leg it back to his bike, 25minutes.

The office was empty, Ron to one vendor me to the other. Tick tock, tick tock

“HOW LONG to get a ticket”

“We’ve done it”

“Not till that tickets in my hand we’ve not”

“Cheers Big Lad always the optimist”

“Ye Ha, we’ve done it” we both shouted at each other as the receipt was handed over.

2241km in 23hours 38 minutes, Job Done!


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There were so many people on the dock that the End Witness was not a problem at all, a big thank you to Mr Rowe from Cheshire for that.

The rest was just plain sailing, Full English and then we both just fell fast asleep were we sat only waking when they announced, “please re-join your vehicles”


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This was just one corner, every corner was the same, full!

Our farewells were said at Maidstone services, Manley hugs exchanged and we both went our separate ways, well once we had ridden through the Dartford Tunnel together.