The outside of a motorbike engine seen up close near the exhaust

Home Travel StoriesLincolnshire Again Aug 2014

Getting There

By Ren Withnell

There's a lot of motorcyclists who are fans of motorcycle racing. I like it too, in passing. If there's a race on the telly and no other pressing matters I'll give it a good dose of watching and be impressed by the skills of the riders and the incredibly close racing. Those guys are nutters I tell ya. But I'm not a fan that would spend a fortune on a ticket to go and see it live. To be honest what little motorcycle racing I've experienced at the trackside has never captured my attention enough to make me want to return. To each his own I suppose.

I have several friends who are fans. And these friends invited the gf and myself along to the Cadwell Park BSB round this season, August 2014. The camping at the ground had sold out some time ago and they've organised a handful of pitches at a small site 9 miles away from the track. I inform them I'll not be attending the races, even with their discounted tickets, but the gf and I will tag along to join them for a laugh in the evenings. In fact it all works out quite well, because while they're all off at the races the gf and I can have a gentle mooch around the area as we like to do.

Amongst some terrible confusion and crossed wires all around we are joined by SL who will also not bother with the races but come for a laugh. JR was supposed to join us too but much to her sadness her Grandmother has taken seriously ill the day before our departure. Life can be cruel sometimes. Missing JR we find ourselves packed and ready to go on a Saturday afternoon with weather that is undecided. There's a threat of rain today, tomorrow looks OK and for our return on Bank Holiday Monday the weather promises to be a complete washout. Great. 

our two 125cc motorcycles loaded right up with camping gear
There are 2 125cc motorcycles beneath that pile of camping gear.

The ride takes us through Bury and towards Rochdale. I manage to pick up signs for Oldham and even Holmfirth before I get lost. SL's sat nav has to take over and he leads us up into the hills. We stop in Holmfirth, land of "Last Of The Summer Wine" and I take us into a rather trendy bar come cafe called Brambles ( Oh dear, this is going to be costly, pretentious and we'll be frowned upon. Nope, the prices are typical and the young ladies behind the bar look after us but admittedly the tea is a little weird. Perhaps they don't use cheap Asda tea bags like I do. The toilets are clean so no complaints there.

The only route I could follow would take us through Barnsley and Doncaster. While I've no problem with these towns SL's sat nav manges to skirt both of them and take us down some gorgeous Yorkshire roads and lanes. We're treated to corners, hills, bends and straights. We see farmland and sheep, pretty villages and mansion houses. It is a simple kind of joy to be lead through this landscape, SL takes great care to keep his Street Triple in check so the gf and I both on 125's can keep up. It's very nice around here you know.

sl and the gf both smiling and laughing at bawtry
It's the way I tell 'em innit. I crack myself up too at times.

Bawtry seems nice enough too. I'm guessing it's a market town with it's broad wide main street. We stop for a stretch then carry on onto the A631 for Market Rasen. We're back on the main roads and we're getting into the flatlands here. I can see a large concrete construction in the distance. We ride and ride through the farmlands and quiet villages. I can see a large concrete construction in the distance, still. We ride and ride by tracks and cattle.  I can see a large concrete construction in the distance, it's getting a little closer now. We ride and ride, the weather looks ominous.  I can see a large concrete construction in the distance, to my right now. We ride and ride, I wonder if we'll get there before dark.  I can see a large concrete construction in the distance, it's behind me now. Yes, it really is that flat.

The A631 becomes interesting again after Market Rasen. We're into corners, undulations in the land and quiet lanes again. This is all going great until a sign suggests the road to Louth is closed ahead. Stuff it. More closure signs but no sign of closure, what's going on? We manage another 7 or 8 miles before we spot a barrier only half way across the road. We stop. SL reads a handwritten note on the sign, "No, the road ahead really IS closed!" Sat nav isn't forthcoming with alternatives so I just take a side road in hope.

Pure luck, nothing else, leads us to another main road and then SL's sat nav regains it's composure and picks up where we'd left off. It's not long before we're though Louth and on the road to our pitch for the night at The Waggon And Horses ( 

The Waggon And Horses is a restaurant pub, not a campsite as such. Out back there's a fair sized field for the campers, the pub toilets are left open all night and there's a single shower in a tiny block behind the pub. Now this probably is acceptable on a normal weekend when I suspect there may be a handful of caravans and a couple of tents. But it seems every biker that can't get into Cadwell's campsite is camped here instead, there's around 100 campers. So that's 100 bikers and race fans all using 2 urinals and 3 toilets (including the ladies) and one solitary shower. Not good.

Among the camper vans, trailer tents, large tents and small tents we find our friends. After some faffing around moving cars and kit we manage to pitch and settle in just as it's getting dark. All that's left to do is rustle up some rice with tinned curry for our tea then sit around talking in the dark. As ever there's much teasing and nasty comments, I often wonder if someone said something nice or honest what would happen? I make jibes and rude comments with the rest of them, when in Rome eh.

a gazebo with our friends inside at the campsite, in the dark
The rowdy bunch. Bedtime soon I reckon.

The gf and I turn in early, leaving the rest of them chatting and getting a little tipsy. Earplugs tonight I reckon, there's a whole field filled with racing fans in various states of inebriation. 

Getting There The ride out to Louth and beyond turns out to be a better day than expected.
Dawdle Around Mablethorpe It's a lazy, slow and relaxing day in and around Mablethorpe. Don't call it flat though...
Home In The Rain Ren manages to turn a trip home from Lincolnshire into a battle with towns, cars, roundabouts and traffic lights. It could be worse...

Reader's Comments

Arthur U said :-
For Gods sake, give the GF a name.
1/1/2000 12:00:00 AM UTC
Ren - The Ed said :-
Arthur U - Give the gf a name! What, and put the poor lady to shame? No self respecting lady would ever admit to being associated with a man such as I.

(She's called in Sharon's blog in the links on the left. Shush, I didn't tell you OK?)
1/1/2000 12:00:00 AM UTC

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