OT Short Way Up or....Two Yanks in Scotland, The FINAL Chapter...Last post Options

[stephenaki]

Every great adventure starts with an idea that somehow or another blossoms into a grand scheme that sends our minds on a whirlwind of anticipation and visions, or delusions, of grandeur. Burly men and lusty wenches, beer, rum and…oh wait, that’s the other delusion I had…never mind. Back on topic, as the title would loan itself too, it is a play on the Long Way Down (motorcycle documentary of Ewing McGregor and Charley Boorman as they rode from John O' Groats Scotland to South Africa on BMW GS1200 motorcycles) and not even a 10th of the mileage; one, neither Lee or I are rich and have a full fledged support crew and two, neither Lee and I are rich and have a full fledged support crew. Did I mention that neither Lee nor I are rich and have a full fledged support crew? I won’t bore you with the details but after several discussions and then Lee’s acquisition of a shiny new GS1200 we finally settled on taking a 10 day trip to Scotland from our little slice of Deutschland. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/piratenanner.gif)

I don’t remember exactly how it came to pass but I do recall looking at the big map in our cubicle and discussing options of where to go and by the end, the destination was Scotland. With the general destination now set it was time to determine where and when. Over the course of the next few months it evolved from Glasgow to Inverness and then one fine day Lee said, “hey, why don’t we ride up to John O’ Groats?” At first the idea didn’t quite register as to why in the hell anyone would want to ride up to the top of nowhere but, after some thought, the hamster powered dimly lit light bulb in my mind flickered and remembrances of Charley and Ewan’s starting point in the Long Way Down played across the back of my mind like an old 8mm film that had past its time and flickered a lot. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/blink.gif) (IMG:style_emoticons/default/blink.gif)

So I thought to myself, sure, why the hell not? I hear the country is beautiful and they speak English…of a sort. Now what? Oh yeah, I guess ‘we’(which really means ‘I’) should plan a route up and a route down. This would also lend itself to an ever changing plan of attack with no rhyme or reason as the only input I really got from Lee was, ‘dude, I just wanna ride.’ Gee thanks bro, you’re about as helpful as financial advice from Madoff. Oh yeah, we also settled on 10 to 20 May as our target date for the trip and no, we didn’t realize we were leaving on Mother’s day until later on.

I will have to say though that Lee did insist that there were at least two things he wanted to see and visit, Ace Café in London and Stonehenge. I was a bit worried about Stonehenge as he kept referencing Pagan rituals and furry goatskin pants…At six plus feet tall that would be a curious site to see.

Goatskin pants aside, we had also decided that we would visit a friend of mine up in Warwick to have a look at his 1920s era British motorcycle then visit the National Transport Museum in Coventry where Charley Boorman’s bike is supposedly on display. Since our interest was primarily on riding in Scotland we sorta decided to keep to the main roads on up towards Glasgow before disembarking from the ‘M’ series highways to the smaller country roads.

The original plan also called for a trip up to Bastogne, Belgium then across Northern France to the coast and then north to Calais. I then set to work using Google Map as my planning tool and using the terrain and satellite feature with the photos option flipped on and off intermittently to develop a first draft plan. Once I had a draft I posted our route to my Vulcan Drifters Owners Group UK (VDOG) to get some feedback and sent it off to my friend Alan in Warwick as well. Several things happened when I did this, Alan was reminded by his wife that the time we were coming they would be in Spain watching a formula one race and several members of my VDOG UK group offered some suggested changes as well as lodging for us.

After several discussions with Lee and route changes based on feedback as well as input into Google to gauge riding time and overall trip impact, we axed Bastogne and the country roads through France. Instead, we opted to avoid the toll roads in France and make it to Dover on day one of the trip with a stay in Dover that night. In case you’re wondering, Stuttgart, Germany to Calais France via autobahn is approximately 757 KM or 470 MI; reality is we did 500 miles that day with an unintended side trip into Luxembourg but that will come later. We had also decided that we would push on to the southeast perimeter of London if we felt up to in on that first day to buy us some additional time for the next day’s activities.

The other change was that we would cut over to Rhayader, England and take the A470 up through Wales to Conway before pressing on to Scotland. This was recommended by Andy, a VDOG UK member who offered us a place to stay and met us at Stonehenge. We did not stay with Andy but pushed on to Rhayader instead; never the less I did bring Andy a bottle of wine and 4 bottles of Andechs Doppel Boch for his offered hospitality.

Of course, as the Army says, no plan survives first contact and some minor changes would be made along the way but, the initial route was set and our accommodations would be campgrounds and a night at Bongos (yes, I’ll get to Bongos as well).

Now the only thing that remained was to try out my new sissy bar travel luggage and get used to using a GPS. For this we planned several rides whereby I would construct a route using Google then transfer it to my TomTom via a program called TYRE or Track Your Route Everywhere. TYRE allows you to import a route from Google maps, adjust it to suit your needs and save it to an ITN file that the TomTom can pull up as a programmed itinerary. Great little program and it is free.

Several rides later we were comfortable with each others riding styles, use of the GPS and how my bike felt with a full load. Lee tested his panniers and additional load on a business trip to Garmisch from Stuttgart in April as well. So lets meet our intrepid adventurers, get to some pre-trip photos, and close out the first chapter in this little adventure.

Lee on his brand new BMW GS1200
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Yours truly on a vehicle that is actually running as opposed to my 914.
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Finally the first draft load out of the bike with my Riggpack sissy bar system. Final adjustments would be done later to clean it all up.
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The following installments will have much more pictures I promise. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/beerchug.gif)

[stephenaki]

Day 1, May 10, 2009, Stuttgart to Dover or...OW MY ASS HURTS!

Well all the planning is complete, arrangements are made and all that is left is to load the bike and head off to Patch Army Barracks in Vaihingen to fuel up and link up with Lee. I had planned on loading up the night before but some last minute changes in my packing precluded me from doing this. Still, it was merely a matter of throwing the Riggpack on the bike and heading out. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/piratenanner.gif)

0450 and I am awake! The alarm was set for 0500 but I have a habit of always waking a few minutes before my alarm goes off. So, after laying there a couple of minutes, I drag myself out of bed and get in the shower then go down and get something to eat. BIG BOWL of oatmeal and a couple of eggs with some Canadian bacon! I figured I’d need it and, as it turns out, I did.

By 0615 the bike is loaded and I push it to the street before starting her up and heading out. Since I live in a small duplex complex area and my pipes are not exactly quite AND it is 0615 Sunday morning…yeah, need to roll her out to the street where the sound of the bike won’t reverberate off the buildings in my quite little German neighborhood. Mind you, my bike is 692 lbs dry weight, she has half a tank and about 75 lbs of luggage on her due to the wine bottle and 4 bottles of beer. I was sweating before I even got on the bike and was damn glad to feel the cool breeze as I made my way to the installation to fuel up.

What you must understand about me is that I am anally on time! It drives me absolutely bonkers if I don’t get to a destination at a minimum of 10 minutes prior to my scheduled arrival time so I had at least 30 minutes until Lee showed up and we were on our way. So what do you do with that extra time? Well, you pee, you take a picture of your odometer and the loaded bike…you pee again (large cup of coffee for breakfast as well) then, you wait. I’m used to waiting, Army motto is ‘hurry up and wait’ so this was the easy part. So here are the pictures to include the starting mileage on Lee’s bike.

Drifter Odometer
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OOOOOOHHHH, AAAAAHHH, MMMMMM...DIGITAL! Lee’s starting mileage.
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Hmmm, that looks like a lot of stuff!
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By 0700 we were on the road barreling up the A8 to our first refuel stop, Kaiserslautern Germany. The weather was, as the British say, a bit dodgy and it was overcast with a smattering of very light rain up until we got within an hour or so of the Belgium border. The temps were running in the mid 50s and climbed up into the low 60s until we got closer to the coast.

Finally, after months of planning and changing plans we were on our way. I remember the elation and excitement that Ewing McGregor exhibited as he and Charley headed out during both their jaunts and I embraced this exuberance wholeheartedly! I was also thankful that we had not invested in bike to bike communication units as Lee would have gotten tired of me screaming WOOHOO in my helmet and making up silly songs as we careened down the autobahn. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/biker.gif)

Careened is probably a very accurate description as I glanced down at my speedometer and I was doing 90 miles an hour! I glanced in my mirror and saw that Lee was a hundred meters behind me and keeping up so, I just kept pushing on.

We probably made it to Kaiserslautern in record time and I also came to the conclusion that if I didn’t want to refuel every hour or so I would have to cut down my speed to a more reasonable pace so I didn’t run through my gas like a drunk through a cheap bottle of wine. Lee on the other hand had plenty of mileage left given his GS was much more fuel efficient and 10 years younger than my 1999 Drifter. To the Drifter’s credit however, I didn’t need to refill the oil like Lee did as he evidently got the one that liked to burn oil when you drove it hard. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/bootyshake.gif)

So, here is a snapshot of our route to Dover; as you can see, we traversed Germany and Belgium then cut south to Calais. Why? Cause were cheap and didn’t want to have to screw around with the toll roads in France of which, there are many.

So here is a snapshot of the route we took, as you can see, we stay out of France most of the way.
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So, to keep a more fuel efficient pace, I brought her down to 70 miles per hour and we made our way from Kaiserslautern to our next fuel stop near Trier…or at least that was the plan. As we are approaching noon I am getting a bit hungry and the bike is starting to run low on fuel so I figured we would stop at the next parking area and I would plug in fuel stations to the TomTom and see if we could find an Esso in Germany before we cross into Belgium. In the distance I see what is clearly a parking area, hooray! Gotta pee too! As we get closer I also see the sign that says…Welcome to Belgium! Oh crap or auf Deutsch…Scheisse! (IMG:style_emoticons/default/stromberg.gif)

Oh well, shit happens. So we pull over and take a break to pee and I start looking up gas stations on the GPS. I figured we would see places to eat along our route to find fuel. As chance would have it, there were several other bikers there taking a break who were from Holland and were headed home. We struck up a cordial conversation and as I went to go water a concrete barrier they all gathered around my ride to worship its awesomeness and bask in the glory that was the dragon(yes, another delusion of mine). Of course not only did Lee let them know that it was what he called the ‘village people’ paint job but, he ensured he got photos of the gathered worshipers and me peeing on the concrete loading dock. My photos of him were less entertaining. For the record, anyone that admires my bike is officially termed what Lee calls a ‘leg humper.’ (IMG:style_emoticons/default/humpy.gif)

Oh, look at der beautiful Drifter..aahh poor BMW, you must feel so inadequate…
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Sometimes…ya just gotta pee!
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Hmmm, the GS doesn’t look nearly as loaded down...
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I wound up choosing a gas station that was about 12 miles from our little border crossing. What I didn’t realize was exactly WHERE it was in relation to our stop; I had thought it was just up the way in Belgium. Nope. So off we go to find this fuel stop and after about 2 miles we turn off the main highway and start down some back roads. By this time the weather is absolutely beautiful with brilliant sunshine that sets off the vibrant colors adorning the rolling hills of western Belgium. Not sure where the place is but we really don’t care as the roads are graceful and curvy and the scenery is beautiful. Aaahh, this will be great ride to Calais if the rest of Belgium is as scenic as this.

Now, remember in our first installment how the total distance from our start point to Calais is 470 miles? Well, our little side trip to find fuel and a place to eat is what added the additional 30 miles to make the first day a 500 mile affair. Nevertheless, we are enjoying the break in pace and to our complete surprise we come across a sign that simply says…Luxembourg. Damn! We drove into Luxembourg to get gas! Not a big issue except the gas station didn’t have any souvenir stickers we could slap on our helmets; guess were just gonna have to go back!

After finding our station and tanking up we set out to find food; first place looks a bit pricey and we decide that the management and patrons would probably not appreciate a couple of bikers in their establishment. So we backtrack along the same route and cross back over into Belgium and find a little road side Imbiss (fast food place) to have a bite to eat. Lee takes this opportunity to call his wife and inform her that I can’t navigate my way out of a wet paper bag and took us to Luxembourg for gas! He was still mad at me for telling him he couldn’t take his goatskin pants to Stonehenge.

Well after a fulfilling and inexpensive lunch its back on the bikes and onward to Calais. You know that feeling of elation when we first started? The thought that this would be great if the scenery at the start of Belgium continued to stay that way? Yeah, those both went away as we got further into Belgium and the terrain flattened, the sun really kicked in the heat and we realized the Belgians are absolutely horrible drivers! (IMG:style_emoticons/default/fighting19.gif) We went from rising hills and gentle curves where everyone stayed in the center or right lane unless passing to flat, hot, straight and anarchy in motion. My brother states that the definition of anarchy is a parking lot, I beg to differ, I would opine that the definition of anarchy is the A3/E40 highway in Belgium near Brussells and the rest of the way to the French and Belgian border. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/jester.gif)

We wondered if it would ever end! It did but before it did nature threw us a new challenge that would set the tone for most of the trip… wind. Strong, gusty, push you all over the road type wind. Evidently and unbeknownst to us at the start of the trip, there was a strong pressure system pushing down from Iceland that was keeping the clouds and rain at bay but bringing high winds that were gusting up to 30+ miles an hour. This would be the dominating weather for the rest of our venture and I would contend that we rode close to 2300 miles in heavy winds for most of our trip.

A few bits of information for everyone; when taking the Calais to Dover or vice versa ferry, book ahead! We discovered that the advertised price of approximately 30 Euros for the ferry on the P&O website only applied if you booked ahead. We wound up paying 68 Euros a piece for the ferry trip over. They do supply a tie down for your bike that you route over your seat to keep it secured to the deck.

Nice big pad goes over the seat and under the strap to protect your ride.
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You can pay for any food or drink in Euros however, you will receive change in British Sterling if you are traveling from Calais to the UK. This works the opposite if you are going from the UK to Calais and finally, they have beer! In reality, beer always makes it better. Oh yeah and one more addendum to using the ferry…you have to buy your ticket BEFORE you go through the border control booth; more about that in a minute.

In truth we started to hit the winds as we got closer to the coast so thought it was just because we were near the ocean. The winds kept up on the other side of the channel but we again attributed this to the proximity of the ocean. As we pulled up to the pier at Calais we saw a sign that said “tickets.” Well, the only other ferry I have used was from the Island of Sicilia Italy to Italy’s mainland and there you pay at the booth as you drive up. We would learn that this is not the case here. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/confused24.gif)

So we get in line at the first booth which happens to be the border control/passport booth. The young British woman at the booth checks our passports then asks us some questions and we have to show her our military ID since we live in Germany. She stamps the passport and we head for the second booth thinking this is where we buy the ticket. Well, much to our chagrin, we should have followed the sign that said “tickets.” So the nice young shiny headed gentlemen points us to where we need to go and informs us to buy a ticket then go back through passport control and THEN come and see him again. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/spank.gif)

Aaah, the things one learns when he knows so little. After acquiring our tickets we felt it would be prudent if we went back to the same passport booth to avoid confusion. As I pull up to the young British woman she gives me the, ‘why the hell are you back here again’ look followed immediately by the ‘oh, never mind, I know why, you’re a moron’ look. With tail tucked between my legs I smile and say, ‘yeah, we were stupid, but we got better!’ (yes, I am a Monty Python, Quest for the Holy Grail fan) She grins and just waves me through. As I stop about 25 meters up Lee is having a short conversation with our British friend and I am positive it is something about wet paper bags, navigation and my inability to read signs. I would claim it was the language barrier but the sign was in English. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/av-943.gif)

The final bit of the trip was a bit anti-climatic with our loading up on the ferry then transitioning to driving on the left side of the road and finding our campsite. We had toyed with the idea of continuing on up towards London but decided instead to get up early instead of trying to ride in the wind, and eventual dark on the opposite side of the road. This and the fact that we were pretty damn tired and all we really wanted was a beer which we found at the Kings Head pub down the way. Before we made off in search of liquid nutrients though, we gave Malcolm a call to let him know we were in the UK and planned on meeting him in the morning at 0800 at the Ace Café.

We never did find the campsite manager and departed the next day leaving 14 British pounds wrapped in a piece of paper with a note and my contact email address on the site managers shoe mat. Since I have never received an email I am assuming we paid the appropriate amount. So here are the photos of our ferry trip as well as some of our first campsite at Kingsdown on the white cliffs of Dover.

Waiting for the ferry.
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Damn! I’m sooooo glad I can get off this damn thing for a while!
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Tank bag? Check! Ass pad? Check! Sub-Atomic Blaster to shoot Belgian drivers?!... (IMG:http://i273.photobucket.com/albums/jj217/stephenaki/Scotland%20Ride/101_3205.jpg)

Oh Look! There be the ferry!
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OK, now that were on board, lets tie her down and go find a beer!
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Dude! Aren’t you done yet? I hear a beer calling my name!
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Shut up! Can’t you see I’m not 10% smarter than the single strap I’m working with???!!
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Ooops, almost forgot to turn of the GPS!
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Bikes are locked down, time to get out the good camera for some pics!
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Some pictures of the port and out leaving it.
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Lee contemplating life and whether or not his ass has callouses on it.
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Hey! I think were doing the annual ferry race! Damn, were last!!
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Lee, get up there and see if they’ll let you drive so we can win this race!
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BYE BYE CALAIS!
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HELLO ENGLAND! Pictures of our first campsite at Kingsdown near Dover.
This patch of asphalt is within 50 meters of the facilities.
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See the wall on the right? Perfect windbreaker!
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Time to find a beer.
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Next installment? Learning to split lanes i.e. drive between cars in traffic in London traffic!