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Travel StoriesLincolnshire 2014
Buells, Planes And Sun
By Ren Withnell
Brrrrrr! It's been a cold cold night. The self inflating mattress was not so comfy, the sleeping bag was chilly and to add to my woes drinking all that free-refill pop last night meant I've been up and down like a motocross suspension unit. As I lie here the sun is starting to rise and the chill is abating. Sun. The forecast according to the BBC is for rain, lots and lots of rain. I venture one more wee behind the bike, the toilets are miles away, and get back in the sleeping bag hoping for some more kip.
I get another hour. It's better than nothing and as I rise the day seems to be off to a good start. I look across the vast horizon in search of storm clouds and impending doom, I see nothing but a light hazy mist. Both SL and the gf agree that it was a cold night, this being the end of May it really ought to be warmer.
These Buell folks camp in style.
I'd spotted a cafe back towards Sleaford, maybe 10 miles away? This being a bank holiday and this being the sticks finding somewhere to eat might be difficult. The gf climbs on the back of my 125 and I lead SL down along the road we came in on. Back through the posh houses, friendly looking shops and pretty churches, back through the big open fields and woods. Back, back and back again. And again. 10 miles I'd estimated. After 15 miles I'm beginning to think I'm insane. Each pub offers food but only after 1200. Most of the local shops are shut. My cafe does not come into view around each corner.
After 19 miles the gf points quite vehemently to my right, cafe! It's not the one I'd spotted but I'm already feeling quite stupid and hungry so this will do. One U-turn later and we're parking outside "Time-2-Eat" in Anwick. By sheer luck we've struck English Breakfast heaven. Tea, sausages, bacon, beans, egg, fried bread and hash browns. Finding the place was something of a faff, but by golly it's worth it! There's a lot of bikers all heading towards the Aviation Centre, it looks like it's going to be a busy day.
At last! Time 2 Eat? Hell yeah.
Back at the campsite we lock the bikes up. It is less than a 5 minute walk to the entrance of the Aviation Centre and the place is already filling up. Cars are being parked in a field by marshals and motorcycles are arriving all the time. The gate suggests an entrance fee of £12. Blimey, more than I'd expected. The gf is better informed, through the power of Facebook, there' should be the "Buell" entrance somewhere and that is allegedly cheaper. A phone call to a friend directs us around the back of some buildings and soon we're relieved of £8 each. That's better.
We are stood amidst quite a show! To my left is a giant Lancaster bomber with a queue of people waiting to climb the stairs and look around inside. To my right there's maybe 30 or 40 Buells on display. All around are various World War 2 vehicles such as Jeeps, motorcycles and cars, complete with owners dressed in uniforms of the period. Overhead 2 American Mustangs are flying acrobatics with no deference to their age. There's also a show of Italian motorcycles, stalls selling ice cream and refreshments and in various buildings there are historical displays.
Lancaster bomber, DC3 behind it. Never thought I'd see one in the flesh. Coooooooool...
We find a Buell small enough for the gf. 500cc single, just lop a piston off, be reet.
After greeting our friends some of us take in a display or two In what I can only assume were once offices and sleeping quarters and are now museum type displays of guns, paperwork, uniforms and other items. There's dark rooms to capture the sensations and sounds of a night time air raid bunker, a view inside a German Messerschmitt and data filled notes everywhere to inform and impress. Inside the hangar is a temporary display of more gubbins, particularly of interest to me is a vast collection of broken aeroplane parts which allow insight into the workings of the engines of the period.
Being shot out the sky didn't do this crank any good.
4 Valves per piston on ya sports bike? Old hat mate, they had them in World War 2
There's also poignant tales, letters home, crash reports and telegrams. When I watch great films like "The Battle Of Britian" each time a plane goes spiralling out of the skies in flames I must remember that on both sides mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, grandparents and friends all fell with the crews.
Back outside the sun is now hot as a Dakota DC3 rolls around the skies above. Again considering it's age the pilots are showing little respect with steep banked turns and low passes overhead. The gf joins the queue for an ice cream while I shelter from the heat in the hangar. Then the Lancaster starts it's engines. Unfortunately this Lancaster is as yet still grounded. The volunteers are still working on one engine and to complete all the work required to gain an airworthiness certificate. Never-the-less to hear the engines roar and see it taxing across the runway is evocative. It's makes a fair old gust of wind in it's backwash.
The pilot is not showing the old DC3 and mercy.
We spend another few hours sitting on the grass talking to both friends and fellow riders. All the time I'm at risk of becoming sunburned, so much for the forecast. By 1500 it's time for everyone to leave, most are returning home but the gf and myself are staying on the campsite another night. This time we're the lucky ones, there's no work for us tomorrow. We bid our farewells and as everyone else rides away we walk the short walk back to the campsite. Just as we get back there's one last treat in store, a massive 4 engined bomber provides a final display by passing overhead several times and turning in the distance. Having checked my pictures I later believe it's a B17 "Flying Fortress". Cooooooooool.
What I later learn is a B17 Flying Fortress. Fabulous.
We are offered the use of a barbeque by the remaining "Rapter Chapter" members, but we decline, the day is still young and there's time for a ride and a look around. We hop onto the bikes, the gf's back on hers this time. Most frustratingly after our 40 mile round trip for breakfast this morning we find a cafe - not more than a mile from the campsite in the Skegness direction. Argh! Local knowledge is invaluable. I lead us around aimlessly for a while, taking in narrow country lanes, wide open fields that stretch as far as the eye can see and some very pretty hamlets.
After an hour of drifting through the back lanes in the pleasant evening sun I find we're heading towards Skegness. I need fuel so it makes sense to go into town. Here we fill up before spending a short time on the beach looking at the wind turbines, and regrettably the rubbish left after what must have been a busy day. It's cooler now and as the sea wind blows we decide it's time to head back for something to eat.
View from the beach at Skeggy. Eyesore or renewable perfection?
There's bad drivers everywhere, "Skeggy" seems to excel in wayward youths in small hatchbacks taking corners too fast. In the countryside a Saxo squealed around a bend, when the young lad saw me his face expressed the fear he was experiencing as he almost skidded into me. In town another youth turned into the petrol station so hard he almost flipped. As we ride away from the beach a Corsa cuts the corner of my junction, tyres a-screeching with music thumping away. It's a seaside thing, there's not a lot going on in the evenings at the coast I guess.
As the daylight starts to fade we get back to the campsite. We discuss the possibilities for tea but we end up in the pub around the corner. It's not exactly high class and the "yoof" behind the bar, while friendly and helpful, has to boast about his CBR 125 that does 80 mph all day and a lot more if he's to be believed. Whatever else you can say of the hostelry, the food is good. I like my friends but this evening it's good that it's just the gf and I, we're free to do as we wish.
The forecast for tomorrow is for more rain. I hope the rain is as heavy as it was today, I can handle this dry rain no problem. The clouds are filling the skies as the sun sets, which doesn't bode well. At least it means the evening is likely to be warmer than last night. We're both tucked up in bed well before 2300. What a great day!
Soggy And Sun Into Lincolnshire
Ren describes a day filled with rain and sun, countryside roads, corners and friends.
Buells, Planes And Sun
A day at the Emma Radford Memorial is filled with sunshine, Buells, friends and fantastic aeroplanes!
A Good Ride Home
Our ride home from Lincolnshire involves crazy cars, mad cities, getting lost and the Snake Pass. Lots of fun!
Reader's Comments
Latchy said :-
Sorry for being a tech head here but on that very fine cylinder head , the designers also built in a roller bearing on the rocker arms so that the cams rotate with less friction and wear.
01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC
Ren - The Ed said :-
Latchy - you are quite correct. And, may I ask, where have you seen this same high quality system recently? On a Triumph Street Triple? No. On a cheap boring Honda CBF 125? YES!
01/01/2000 00:00:00 UTC
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Travel StoriesLincolnshire 2014