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 4, 13 May 09, To Scotland we GO!

This is it, this is the day that we cross into the land of the Scot! You know the northern portion of Great Britain where the Romans built a big wall to try to keep the suckers out! Not sure why, nicest people we ever met on the other side of Hadrians wall!

The morning found us quietly as possible loading up the bikes as we made our way down the hall and stairs from our room in the Twa Dogs Inn. As with the previous mornings we were up by 0600 and getting things in order. Since we didn’t have to tear down a campsite we moved at a more leisurely pace.

Coming out of the Inn we could see the tops of trees swaying a bit but not too badly and it was our hope that the wind would let us move along unmolested. Our location was deceiving as the buildings and trees around us very effectively blocked the wind so we felt nary a breeze as we left the sleepy little town of Kesswick. So what was our route today to be? Let’s take a look shall we?

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As you can see, we were to continue up the A76 to Gourock and catch a ferry over to Dunoon. Well, the GPS took us east instead to Penrith then up the M74 into Glasgow before cutting over to Gourock. Not as nice a ride but I didn’t realize it had done this until later on. I think the fact that I was hungry had me concentrating on someplace to eat vice the route we were on. We did eventually pull off into one of the rest stops on the M74 and have ourselves a proper English breakfast.

As we continued along the M74 our hearts were light and our pulses quick as we got ever closer to Scotland and at the town of Carlisle we were there. No kilt clad Scotsman playing bagpipes, no cheering crowds, no scantily clad women offering us Hagis and Ale, just a large sign on the left side of the highway saying, “Welcome to Scotland.” It was as if the introduction to a book was now over and the real story ready to begin. This was, after all, our primary goal, ride our motorcycles in Scotland! Everything prior to this was just a precursor to the real adventure or, so we had originally envisioned.

The reality was that up until this point it was truly an adventure just to get this far! Between the butt busting 500 mile run into gale force winds, lane splitting maneuvers in London and beautiful vistas in Wales you really couldn’t call our first 3 days a prelude to the main story. No, the adventure began at day one and truly never let up.

Carlisle was just a waypoint in the adventure and a sign that yes, we were actually going to ride our happy blistered butts all the way up to John O’ Groats and back! We did learn that just maneuvering through Glassgow was an adventure in itself as the sun shone full upon the GPS making it tricky to see. Were it a real motorcycle GPS this may not have been an issue but, it wasn’t. It was my cheapo TomTom OneXL stuffed in an Aquabox mounted on my handlebars; not the best solution but it worked and I just had to work around its drawbacks.

At least we didn’t spend much time in Glasgow and on the main road as we got to the north end of the city we quickly departed the main highways and shortly found ourselves riding into rolling hills and gentle curves indicative of the area. Westerly, our route took us through a couple of towns and eventually, we reached the Gourock ferry pier. If you recall the last picture of my previous post you saw the picture of a triangular standard with the Scottish Lion Rampant in its center. The Lion Rampant is part of the Scottish Royal Standard but what is more important, if you noticed, is the fact that the damn thing is stretched almost completely out to the left! Why? Yep, you guessed it, WIND! It found us again and this time it wouldn’t let us out of its sight! But enough of that, here are the pictures of our little ferry ride to the quaint town of Dunoon aboard the Saturn.

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A Few views from the ferry
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Prior to our boarding we had met a gentleman who talked to us about our bike trip and where we were headed. He espoused that Oban was his favorite place in all of Scotland and that we would enjoy it a lot. He also quipped that normally the weather is horrible and the going saying is, ‘you shoulda been here last week, it was beautiful then’ but that it was the exact opposite in our case. No, he said, ‘last week was horrible! Good thing you’re here this week!’ We would find out later during the ride over that he was with his father who, after coming over to admire our bikes, said he once owned a Royal Enfield and then asked if we had room to take him with us! Marvelous people.

Dunoon is quite an interesting little town and, had we a bit more time, I think I would have liked to have explored it a bit more. However, we felt it best that we press on and we bid Dunoon adieu gently throttling on for Oban. The scenery was not overpoweringly dramatic until we turned west and began our trek along the different Lochs in the area. The hills quickly became small mountains and the views absolutely spectacular with the sun shimmering off the water and the lush green of the surrounding country side wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Along the way we would encounter pockets of vibrant colors, pink, red, violet and yellow as swathes of flowers along the hillsides or well maintained gardens from residents along the route came into view.

Regretfully, it wasn’t until we were motoring north along Loch Fyne that we had the opportunity to stop near Saint Catherines to get some photos of the scenery. Here are some of those pictures, as you will see, there is a town across the loch. That would be Inveraray and we would be making a stop there shortly.

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The road we were on
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What do my eyes spy? Is that a spire from a castle?
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And is this a tower that overlooks said castle?
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As we stood there admiring the view I had spied the afore pictured castle in the distance and, after a glance at the map Lee had, was pleased to see that we would be passing by this intriguing edifice. Since we were not in a big hurry we decided that we would stop to check it out and if it was open to the public or not. As luck would have it, it was.

This impressive edifice is Inveraray Castle and it is the seat of the chief of Clan Campbell the Duke of Argyll and located on the northwestern side of Loch Fyne. It is both a tourist destination and the home to the current Duke of Argyll. If you’re interested in visiting the castle you can find information at their website, http://www.inveraray-castle.com/. The castle architecture is quite unique and the interior was very interesting with a mix of modern day decorations that accentuated its status as a live in castle and, a couple of areas that displayed how the residence looked further back in history. Very enjoyable time; unfortunately, pictures are not allowed of the interior so all we can show you is what it looks like on the outside.

Main entrance to castle
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Backside of castle
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Miscellaneous shots of the castle
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After our little tour it was time to push on but we did come to one unanimous conclusion about the current Duke of Argyll…his wife is HOT!! Sorry, just had to point that out. If you visit the castle you will see current family photos and well, to put it in a southern US colloquial term…’that boy done good.’

So back on the bikes and continue on our leisurely ride to Oban. I forgot to mention that I had given Lee a set of maps with our route highlighted on the day of the trip. He pulled them out at Rhayader so he could gauge where we were at on the route. This was our fail safe in case we got separated since we didn’t have a bike to bike comms system. Of course what this also enabled me to do was play in the twisties! Thus, I would run the route fast and hard, well as hard as you could with a cruiser, scraping floorboard bolts on the turns and then slow down as I got close to a junction that we would turn at.
This also provided me the opportunity to find a turn out and whip out the camera to get a few shots of Lee as he came up the road. Unfortunately, I was never able to coordinate a spot where I could catch him on a curve! We talked about him running up and getting pictures of me but I kept forgetting because I was having too much fun! So here is a shot of Lee, not overly exciting but it is technically an ‘action’ shot.

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We had considered getting a bite to eat for lunch at Inveraray Castle but since we had gotten a late breakfast we decided to push on to Oban. We never did eat lunch and didn’t get a chance to eat until we hit Oban. This wasn’t that big of a deal as we were really only about 38 miles from Oban anyway.

So on we trekked, two Americans riding a German and Japanese motorcycle…did I mention the irony of this particular mismatch of men, motorcycles and the country we were motoring in? Sorry, wayward electrical brain current…It was probably around 1400 or so when we hit Oban proper and we promptly followed the GPS down a narrow road that hugged the coast and offered fabulous views of the ocean and the craggy shore upon which the water crashed. The road was Gallanach road and it was the route that would take us to the Oban Caravan and Camping park.

I had searched for campsites on the internet and was really only able to find this one and the pictures looked nice so I thought we would give it a try. Well, it wasn’t difficult to find and there were signs along the way however, the person who was measuring distance from the signs to the camp was evidently using some other version of the mile. Eventually we came to the campsite, parked the bikes and just kinda looked around. We decided that it looked good and I went off to the office which I would find was closed with a sign that said go to the barn next door.

It was at this point that fortune smiled upon us as it cast aspersions upon someone else. While I was up trying to find the campsite manager a gentleman came up and spoke to Lee. When I got back to the bikes Lee informed me that this was NOT where we were going to stay. The gentleman that spoke to Lee had wandered over to the barn and then came back and spoke to us again and, as it turns out, he and his girlfriend or wife (didn’t really get the details) had paid the fee to stay at the campsite but, after going to the actual camping area, changed their minds. The actual tent area was quite wet from some heavy rains last week and a good hike to the bathroom and shower facilities.

Now, they had just gotten there about 15 minutes prior to our arrival so hadn’t pitched a tent or even opened the door to their vehicle to get out their gear. If you remember my day 3 post, we had had a similar event at Kesswick and opted to find a hotel. It was fortuitous that we ran into this couple as we would learn that the owner to the campsite was refusing to give them their money back even though they hadn’t even set up camp. Well, they took the time to tell us the issues they were having and gave us a sheet with a second campsite that was recommended to them by the Oban visitor center. With this new information and upon wishing the couple the best of luck, we headed off to find the Roseview Campsite, www.roseviewoban.co.uk which was literally about two miles north of this site and inland a bit more.

Off we went to find the Roseview campsite! Of course at the time we hadn’t realized that all we needed to do was take a right at the first intersection on our way back down Gallanach road. No, instead we wound up going all the way back to the town center where there was a round about and followed the directions on the paper that the couple gave us from said round about. In effect we drove about 5 miles instead of 2. Nevertheless, we found it and got a sweet spot a mere 25 meters from the shower and shitter facilities.

Upon entering the office, Goldmember, as I shall call him and, if you meet the man you will understand why I call him this, asked us how we found his site. After we told him, he mentioned that the owner of the other site had just called him to warn him of two trouble makers that would be heading his way. We assured him we were not them and he asked us what we knew about it. We told him what we knew and Lee pointed out that the discussion between the owner and the couple had actually started off very civilly with the couple trying to come to an agreement with the owner on the issue.

Goldmember listened and mentioned that he wasn’t sure how he would handle it if the couple showed up at his campsite and would have to think about whether or not to turn them away. As it turns out, they did show up and he did let them stay there. The couple also told us that it wasn’t until the local constabulary showed up that the owners of the Oban Caravan and Camping Park agreed to refund them their money. So, if you’re in Oban and you are camping, I recommend the Roseview campsite and please say hello to Goldmember for us. The only drawback to Roseview is they are about 2 miles from town.

Well once we got set up we decided to walk, yes, walk, to town to find the distillery and a place to eat. Turns out we just missed the distillery by about 15 minutes but we did find a great little restaurant called the Coast up the street from the distillery. Here is there website, www.coastoban.com. The food was great as was the beer and the waitresses were quite attractive as well. For that matter, Oban seemed to have cornered the market on hot chicks in that part of Scotland! Oban truly was a great little town and one that I hope to go back and visit again soon!

After a great dinner and a couple of beers we walked back to the campsite; we took some photos on the way there and back and here they are.

Road to Roseview
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Of interest in Oban is McCaig’s tower. It is an architectural curiosity that sits on a hilltop and overlooks the city. It was designed and commissioned by a wealthy banker named John Stuart McCaig in 1897 and completed shortly before his death in 1902. The tower was to serve as a lasting monument to his family and to provide work to the local stonemasons in the winter. If you do a search on McCaig’s tower on Wikipedia you can learn a bit more. We did not get to the monument until the next morning but it was well worth the visit as the views were stunning and the tower itself along with the grounds quite remarkable. Don’t miss the opportunity to see it if you visit Oban.

Panoramic view of the inside of McCaig Tower
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Views from atop McCaig Tower onto Oban and the bay
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Back at camp we checked on the weather for the next day; Goldmember told us that the report called for light rain and light winds for most of the day. With that we took the time to prep our helmets with water repellent on the visors and then headed off to bed. We looked forward to what the next day would bring.

Day 5….who’s got the tampons?