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 5 - 15 May 09, Birthday best spent…

Well, it has been a bit since I updated our journey, I was in Tbilisi for a week, came back and headed straight to Paris so didn’t have a chance to catch things up. Once I got back I wound up getting sicker than a dog and now, after two weeks of being sick, I can finally post an update. Oh yeah, got the 914 back as well.

After a day of relative leisure, time marched on and so did my age. May 15th was my birthday and it was also the day that we would reach our intended destination of John O’ Groats; was there any better way to spend ones 43rd birthday? I think not. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/beerchug.gif) (IMG:style_emoticons/default/rocking nana.gif)

We had gotten into the habit of prepping our gear the night before with the assumption that we would get rained on the next day and the night prior had been no different. Until now however, we really didn’t have an occasion to use the rain gear but today, we would be thankful that we had stuck to our routine.

We woke up to the light patter of rain upon our tents, nothing really significant just a drizzle but enough to energize us to move as quickly as possible so as to avoid getting too wet before we got on the road. Where we were situated, was on a hill with a partially enclosed and covered kitchen and sink area below us. This was convenient as the kitchen and wash area had some long benches that we set our gear on in order to keep it dry. This allowed us to pack up our tents and keep the amount of wet things going into our bags at a minimum. We were actually welcoming the rain as it was a sign that the winds had let up as we were told that the clear skies were attributed to the strong winds.

Oh how wrong we would be! In a matter of minutes we were packed, dressed in rain gear and on our way out. As before, we would search for some place to eat along our route and hoped that we could find ourselves another Little Chef to eat at. This would prove to be quite a bit more problematic than we thought as we had truly departed off the main highway and found ourselves wandering sparsely populated areas with little open and no chain style eateries. As we travelled North West along the Dornoch Firth we tried at a couple of towns to find an open restaurant meandering off our GPS route into the towns along main roads. This would avail us no luck and only bring about frustration that increased as our hunger grew. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/chowtime.gif)

The problem was, as stated earlier, we were off the beaten path. Here is a picture of our route and, as you can see, other than the initial ride through Inverness, there was little else along the way.

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As we turned off the A9 towards Dornoch Firth the roads narrowed and the traffic dissipated even further than what little was already on the road. We were still in high spirits at this time as we were not totally famished yet and as we turned onto the A836 we found a scenic turn out that overlooked the firth. It was quite a view and we could see sun down in the valley in between dark and foreboding clouds. The effect was quite dramatic unfortunately, my pictures only show the dark and cloud covered skies.

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We did encounter a strange sight as we stood admiring the firth; a dead fish lay upon the wall. Clearly not what one would expect to find so high above the water.

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The fish was next to a plaque that went on to explain the Scott’s concern about the Atlantic Salmon and their efforts to conserve the fish. OK, got it but, I still am not connecting the dots on why we have a dead fish on the wall; the symbology is lost on me. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/screwy.gif) So, I don’t get the fish symbology, I do get that it made me think of food so we consulted the map to see what towns were along the way. There were several small towns but none would yield a place to eat. We wound up pulling into a gas station on the outskirts of a village called Laird and grabbed something out of their little heated food keeper on the counter.

It wasn’t stupendously flavorful but, it was food and by this point we didn’t care what the hell it was, we were hungry. We were also chilled and wet and the food went a long way in warming us up and re-motivating us for the rest of the trip in the rain. We had actually pulled into the Laird visitor center trying to get info on the town but it wasn’t open yet so we back tracked to the gas station. Now that our bellies were full we decided we needed to take a pee break before we continued on so, back to the visitor center and we waited for about 10 minutes for them to open. Since our bellies were full and our bladders empty it was time to press on in the steady but light rainfall.

As we motored along Loch Shin the wind found us once again but thankfully, the rain was starting to lessen to more of an intermittent mist. This was a good thing as we soon discovered the joys of single track road as we continued along Loch Shin; this type of road would stay with us for the majority of the ride up to JoG. Prior to this trip we had discussed the rules of the road in this type of situation and hadn’t really come up with what the rule of thumb was. I don’t think we got it quite right as we followed other cars but we did learn a very important rule. Tractor trailer trucks ALWAYS have the right of way on single track roads!

Well off we went on a new adventure as we discovered that single track is easy when you can see down the road a bit and know what’s coming. When you start going up and down mountains and CAN’T see down the road, well, then it gets interesting and the pucker factor ratchets up a bit. (IMG:style_emoticons/default/blink.gif) Despite a few less than comforting sections along the route the views were stupendous and the rain eventually stopped all together. What’s amazing is that we would run into a house or a lodge along the route in the middle of nowhere! It is absolutely unexpected when you glance over a loch and see a large estate with nothing else around it for miles around.

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Probably even more surprising was the discovery of an old British armored personnel carrier across from a farm when we turned northeast towards Sangmore; that and the public phone booth made us stop to get a few pictures.

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We didn’t stop again until we hit Sangmore a bit after 1200 and paused at a small quaint tea house to have some lunch then refueled at a gas station up the road before pressing west along the coast to JoG. Along the coastal road that dipped south on occasion to go around a loch we began to hit some heavy winds but the views were so magnificent that we just didn’t care. I do have to ask though, who puts a fucking cattle grate at the apex of a turn!!!! That was a fun bit as we saw the warning sign then realized where the damn thing was AND, it was wet!!! OK, enough bitching, here are some more pictures.

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Well, after running up and down the various valleys and hills and changing from single track to dual track and back again, we finally pulled up to an intersection that gives you two choices. Left to the visitors center and the famous sign post or right towards Wick. Damnit! We rode a total of 1800 some odd miles to get to this point, I’ll be damned if I’m going home without my picture with that stupid signpost!! Left it is! I would be remiss if I did not mention that it was around 1500 when we got to JoG and the wind had steadily gathered force the closer we got.

We weren’t the first set of bikers at JoG this day, no, there was another couple of guys on Harleys that had ridden up from Royal Air Force (RAF) Mildenhall via the east coast; they were also Americans and were basically heading the way we had just come from.

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Just so everyone is aware, the signpost is not public property, if you want your picture with where you started, the date you arrived and the miles you drove, you have to pay a photographer to take it. He will however allow you to also take your own photos if you pay him for a photo. We got two 5”x7” photos for 12 pounds or about $17. Lee currently has his hanging up in front of him at the office. Here is the picture we got with our cameras; the other two yanks took them for us with our cameras.

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So you think the story is done? Not quite, we still needed to go and find some cheesy souvenirs before we stopped for the day. We walked over to the souvenir shop and got some stickers and a couple of patches and I bought a hat and sweatshirt, now it is time to find a place to stay. Did you know their ain’t shit at JoG? Just one hotel that didn’t look all that inviting so we decided to push south to Wick which was approximately 15 miles down the road. In retrospect, probably not the best idea as the wind was rockin by the time we set off.

Funniest thing that happened was a little friendly competition from a white horse. As we passed by the A836 a pasture opened up on our left with several horses to include a white stallion. As we approached, he whipped his head around to look at us and as we pulled up parallel to him he took off in a run and literally began to race us down the road! We did this for about 300 feet before he ran out of pasture to run in and came to a fence. We were both tickled at this horses little exhibition of bravado and only went fast enough to stay slightly ahead of him. It was very entertaining.

As we continued south the wind began wailing and was literally pushing Lee and I all over the road making it probably the longest 15 miles we had ever done! We came into the outer edges of Wick and pulled into a Tesco to fuel up and get lodging recommendations. The clerks gave us a map of the city with hotels on them and referred us to one that was down the road about a mile. I believe it was the Nethercliffe hotel but can’t remember for sure. We found it without too much difficulty and, after getting settled, getting dinner and having a couple of brews, called it a night. The day had been challenging, exciting and alarming at times but all in all a great day! It was now time to head home but not without a couple of stops along the way.

Next installment, we visit the home of the Queen Mum!

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