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Travel StoriesIsle Of Man 2014
A Final Poke Around The Isle Of Man
By Ren Withnell
I achieve a lie in this morning, it's as late as 0730 before I drag my sorry ass out of bed. Today the plan is to go through the centre part of the TT course and see what happens after that. Much to my surprise the CBF 250 is still in good health and is in fact proving to be the right choice for this week. Yeah yeah yeah, the gf says it's nowhere near as comfy as the old Fazer on the back and it's not as quick, but for mooching around and looking into the awkward corners of the Isle Of Man it's been great. Time to kit up I reckon.
Hot damn! Where's my sunshine gone? It's all grey and misty outside, I blame the gf, it's her fault. According to the weatherman it's not going to rain today so I figure the morning mist that's been with us the last few days is particularly heavy today. As long as it doesn't rain I don't mind, I prefer it a little cooler anyhow.
Where's my sun? At least it's dry and that's what matters.
The misty moisty road leads us uphill out of Crosby on the A23 then I find, by luck rather than skill, the W Baldwin Road. Smashing, this small road leads us up hill and down dale through hills and dales. I'm in slow mode just taking it all in and relaxing. The 250 strums happily beneath us, today it seems to be in a good mood as it's not rattling too much. It's got character this bike, not always good character but character none the less. Between the grey skies the mist is clearing and the views are of rural farmland, grazing cattle and the odd farmhouse.
The road narrows, the sun comes out, the road opens up, the mist closes in. There must be a persistent and stiff prevailing wind here. Some trees look as though they are in a strong wind even on this still day, the wind has shaped their growth. We pass though thick woods and broad open moorland.
The next road, Druidale Road, is a long narrow farm track. There's tight bends, steep slopes, gravel and grass down the middle and a plentiful supply of sheep that are too stupid to know how to run away from a motorcycle. I'm only moving along at 20 mph so the sheep aren't a real problem. This again is perfect for the CBF with it's motorcross derived motor. I imagine trying this on the big heavy Fazer, I could cope but I wouldn't be as relaxed and as happy as I am right now. This is what I love doing, going down these peculiar, out of the way roads. I'm in no rush I have all day.
This is my kind of road.
Rather unexpectedly we find ourselves back at Ballough Bridge. The map suggested I'd end up somewhere near hear but we are right slap bang next to the bridge. I head towards Sulby in search of another road that will run us through another section inside the TT course. The A14 is another narrow quiet road but this time the tarmac is free of gravel and grass. Dad mentioned some areas of the island remind him of Scotland, I slow right down and ask if the gf agrees. Yes, and no, it is reminiscent for sure but it lacks the vast lochs and sensation of remoteness. There's Wales too in the valleys, tastes of the Dales and Derbyshire in the rolling hills, fens in the northern flatlands and Cornwall in the hidden coves. It's a miniature UK all within 33 by 11 miles, luckily lacking the massive sprawling cities.
Sulby Reservoir gives us another flavour of Mini UK. This reminds me of the large man made reservoirs back home near Rivington. We climb up hill again then down through a tiny glen replete with a Swiss style lodge, crikey we're now in the Alps! To complete this sensation we navigate a tight switchback although we are missing the vast snow capped peaks. Then a few miles on we unexpectedly pop out right near the Bungalow and Joey Dunlop on the TT course. It really is a small island.
Sulby Reservoir.
Just before the junction I have a quick conference with the gf, she'd actually like to see the Laxey wheel in the Flesh. This being the Isle Of Man means that it's not far away, Laxey, here we come. You can call me a Luddite if you wish but I'm not too bothered about doing the tourist tour of the Laxey wheel. I'd rather watch an entertaining program about it's history than pay a fiver to lug all my bike gear around with me and just look at it. We look at it from the car park, the gf doesn't seem too bothered about paying to get closer either. Suits me just fine that.
We can see enough from the fence...
There is a narrow little lane around the back of the Laxey wheel which proves to be much more interesting. Mines Road takes us steeply up higher than the wheel into the tiny hamlet of Agneash. There's but a mere clump of white painted houses and a single track road that could do with some fresh tarmac. Again this is 250 territory with harsh switchbacks on the awkward lane and patches of gravel. I think I'd have cried if I'd been on a bigger bike. It's worth it to glimpse the view over the Laxey valley and down to the sea. I wonder how many visitors get up here, not many I hope.
Back out of Laxey a small white sign promises to take us to Creg Ny Baa so I take it. This road has a lane in each direction and real tarmac and it's mine and mine alone today. The road wriggles and writhes it's way through some soft countryside that reminds me of our recent trip to Northumbria. I like this road. I'm in play mode, giving it large out the bends.
The Creg Ny Barr pub is an iconic landmark and as we didn't spend any pennies at the Laxey wheel I'm feeling flush enough to make the gf pay for a couple of glasses of pop inside. It's not what I expected. In my mind it would be an old school biker's pub with spit and sawdust floor, bike parts on the walls and a surly biker woman behind the bar. What I find is an ordinary country pub serving meals and drinks. Apart from a handful of TT related posters on the walls and a few fellow riders as patrons, you'd never know you were in anywhere as well known and so often photographed. I can't make up my mind, am I disappointed or glad it's not a cheesy homage to nutty road racers. We consider a bite to eat, after looking at the big numbers on the menu we consider not eating just yet.
Loooooook! We're at Creg Ny Baa!
Outside 3 sports bike and a big capacity retro are started and their riders are ready to leave. There's a long straight downhill, as each one sets off I listen for the scream of tortured valves, howling exhausts and punished rubber. Nope, they all set off perfectly safely and gather their speeds sensibly. Well if the sports bikers can't do it, then I will! With the gf in situ I wait for a suitable gap in the traffic and give the CBF 250 hell. It's our last full day and I'm on the homeward leg, stuff it. 10,000 revs in first, second, third, fourth and fifth. Being a single it doesn't howl. Having a legal exhaust it barely makes any more noise at all, sadly. Being a 250 the acceleration changes from some to a bit more. As the next bend approaches in sixth gear I look down and see 85 mph on the clock. Damn, not bad for 22 bhp and 2 up but...but there's 125's that have completed a whole lap faster than this. Even I have to admit there are times when I might just want a 180 bhp screamer, even if it is only for a minute. It's not a perfect world.
85 mph I achieve down here. And no fear of a nasty N.I.P. in the post either.
Well that's everything done we'd planned to do, and it's barely lunchtime. It really is a small place. The problem is the sun is shining and it is far far too nice to be wasting the day, what can we do next? I remember there's an electric or magnetic hill somewhere back towards Port Erin. I consult the map in my tank bag and the tourist map has it marked on, "Magnetic Hill". What is a magnetic or electric hill? A place where when it LOOKS like you are uphill you are in fact downhill. The road will seem to be going up but a ball or a car with no handbrake on will appear to roll UP the hill. Out of curiosity and with time on our side we head there. Back through Douglas, back towards The Crosby pub, left out into the countryside along Old Church Road then I promptly get lost.
My surroundings remind me of rural England, maybe the Chipping Norton area. Tiny hamlets and farmsteads, empty peaceful lanes with thick hedges, lush grass and hay in the fields, the smells of chickens, cow pooh, cut grass and meadows. It's a great place to be lost in. Random lanes with tiny post boxes set in the stone walls, surreal scarecrow figures on misplaced benches, I'm thinking Midsomer Murders meets The Darling Buds Of May. A little further on and a little more lost the hills return and now I'm thinking James Herriot and Wuthering Heights. Want to visit the UK in a day? Come to the Isle of Man.
It's that kind of place, can I hear a banjo playing in the distance?
This is the road with the magnetic hill. I have a technical issue though. I do know these places, and there are quite a few around, are rarely obvious. Do not expect to find somewhere you can gather great speed uphill. They are typically very gentle and subtle so spotting it on my bike with a stiff headwind to fight into may be impossible. We ride the road, neither of us senses anything unusual. Maybe we're on the wrong road.
We head back to the cafe at Port Erin, feeling a little deflated. The cafe provides scrummy ice cream and a much needed pee break. As I return from the loo the gf is in full conversation with a young man. Circumstances and the conversation suggest he is a local born and bread, married to the daughter of the mainlanders who moved here years ago to open the cafe. We learn some very useful things.
Get out the way you muppet!
Firstly this quiet, peaceful and sunkist beach is filled to the brim with families, traffic and screaming kids during the main holiday season. During the TT it's similarly filled with countless screaming bikers and bikes. He assures us we are here at the perfect time if you don't like it busy, after the TT and before the holidays. Secondly we are incredibly lucky with the weather. It can be just as wet, windy, cold and miserable as any other part of the UK. Finally he positively and solidly defines the position if the Magnetic Hill. We were on the correct road, just not noticing the effect. Local knowledge from local people is invaluable. I find him personable and happy too, we thank him and the rest of the family that runs the cafe and we head out again in search of up-down and down-up.
Apparently it's not always this peaceful or sunny.
This is the spot, A27 Ronague Road, from the crossroads with the A36 Round Table. Down through the trees on the left. As soon as the trees end it's but a few hundred yards further on. I ride slowly, stopping every few yards and seeing which way I roll. I roll down when facing down, back when facing up. Hmmmmmm. I go a few yards more and repeat. Nope. I carry on slowly and try again. Nope. After half a mile I've not experienced anything out of the expected. I make a U-turn. I repeat my test many more times, each with the same normal expected results. If there's a Magnetic Hill here I can't find it. Damn! Maybe it's just me.
It's been another grand day out but I guess we'd best head back to the cottage. After dining in The Crosby again with Dad and Sue the evening is still young so the gf and I make into Douglas for a bit of internet and to chill out for our last evening. My friend RG has suggested we try The Queens Hotel on the Prom as they have free wi-fi and a friendly atmosphere. Indeed there's wi-fi and it's as regular a pub as any other. It's a little busy tonight as there's some football thing happening in Brasil and the youths are out in force to watch it. We find a quieter corner on the frontage outside and sit in the evening sun, sipping coke, watching the ferry come in and ignoring each other as we catch up with emails and facebook on our phones. It's a sad sign of the modern times.
I manage to use real words to talk to the gf about the ferry and how we will be back on it tomorrow going back home. That makes me feel a little sad that thought.
Into The Isle Of Man
The first day of our Isle Of Man break. We sail the Irish Sea, search Douglas and walk around Peel
Isle Of Man - The North Side
Today we look around the northern part of the Isle Of Man. Jurby Junk, Point Of Ayre, The TT Circuit and The Bunglalow.
Isle Of Man - The South Side
This time we explore the southern side of the Isle Of Man. Beautiful sea views, slow riding, fast riding, sunbathing and harbours. It's all here you know.
A Final Poke Around The Isle Of Man
We take a mooch around the Isle Of Man to find sheep tracks, steep switchbacks, a non magnetic hill and ice cream.
Final Day And Thoughts - Isle Of Man
The return trip from the Isle Of Man and Ren's thoughts about the place.
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Travel StoriesIsle Of Man 2014