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Travel StoriesScotland, And A Little Rain
It's Been A Fair Old Day
Ride Date 7 June 2024
By Ren Withnell
Well waddaya know, worra shocker. This morning we are all departing the pleasures of Fort William - and the sun is out and the forecast is good. I could become quite paranoid and think the weather hates me but I'll disappoint my readers and accept the weather is the weather and the weather and the world don't revolve around me. Apparently.
Perhaps time is against me? We got here on Monday and now it's Friday morning already. When I'm at work the time drags on and a day feels like a week, when I'm here a week feels like a day. Weather is cruel, time is cruel, heck even food is cruel. Say what? Why is it all the nice foods like cake and crisps and chocolate and sweeties are bad for you, and all the dull foods like fruit and veg are good for you? After this week's indulgences I am so fat.
The tent doesn't go away dry, it's a tad moist from the morning's dew. The luggage is loaded onto the bikes as the rest of the crew also load up. Then there's a change in tone, a sense of panic, there's a problem a-brewing.
Rik's Harley won't start.
Keyless ignition. It seems likely that the battery in the fob is dead. I'm impressed to learn HD wisely provide a numerical passcode for this very situation. Even more wisely during preparation for this trip Rik has noted the passcode. Via some combination of switchgear button presses he enters the passcode. Nada. He tries again. Nada.
Don't reckon it'll bump start...
Aha! Rik tries his spare fob. Nada. Aha! Janine has a couple of batteries for the keyless fobs for her van, so we fit one in Rik's fob. Nada. We're getting desperate. Aha! I grab my battery booster just in case his bike battery is a bit wonky. Nada. Aha! Rik calls HD Manchester to make sure they've provided the right passcode. It is the wrong passcode but they can't help with the right one. Nada. Rik has recovery, he's going to call them. Poop.
In a last ditch effort Janine replaces the battery with another from her collection into Rik's spare fob. POTATO POTATO!!! The damn thing starts disturbing the peace right off the button just fine. It seems the first battery Janine put in Rik's primary fob might have been duff too. 3 duff batteries, what are the chances?
By now we're all hot and sweaty in the bike gear with the sun and the sense of impending doom for Rik. Sad though I am to be leaving it's a relief to get on the road and into the cooling airflow. Sharon and I are ahead of the rest as Rik reloads his luggage. Yeah, I'll miss Fort William and I'll miss our social evenings in the statics. It might have been wet this week but it has been a lot of fun.
I'm aching. Aching in my heart at the scenery and the notion that I'm leaving it. It looks especially magnificent in the sunshine, it's teasing me, begging me to stay for just one more day. I pull in just before the Ballachulish Bridge to take some pictures, trying to drag out the moments as best I can. I can honestly say I love this place.
Temptingly wonderful views.
My love is strong but tempered these days by how busy it's getting. As the A82 rises up through Glencoe it feels truly commercial. The stunning views and majestic mountainsides remain unchanged, but now come complete with tourist coaches, a piper in the car park, campervans and cars, and an endless stream of camera clicking Emmets. Dubious parking and questionable manoeuvres sees us crawling up towards the peak.
As we crest and the road opens out I've had enough of this bloody dithering Range Rover in front of me. I wring the throttle and get past, leaving Sharon to fend for herself. I know, I know, but there's only one route so it's not like she can get lost. Like a cork out of a bottle I'm off, the road ahead is clear. I get to carve a few bends and fly a few straights before Rannoch Moor.
Erm, excuse me? There appears to be a Z400 mounted Sharon close behind me? It seems someone's been getting busy with the loud handle too. OK, it's going to be like that is it? I pass another car before a bend, she passes it soon after. I do a Top-Gun style fly-by on a coach, she's right on my wing. On the long straight approaching The Bridge Of Orchy we're passing trucks and cars!. Wowsers.
After a brief stop for roadworks we pull in to The Green Welly. It's funny, she's been giving it large out on the open road now she's super cautious on the bustling car park. We park up only to be joined by Rob, Rik and Mark a few moments later. I sense Sharon is quietly buzzing, she's feeling it, there's nothing quite like it. Or maybe she needs the loo.
One last chat with the lads.
Before Sharon and I go to the cafe for a brew we say goodbye to the lads and that'll be the last time we see them on this trip. Inside we get a brew each and share a sausage roll before using the loo and kitting up once more.
At Crianlarich we take the A85 eastbound then the A84 towards Callander. It is still beautiful and remote this road although the scenery is subtly different, just a little softer. Callander is lovely as ever, I pull in for a stretch and to set up the Sat-Nav as I'm stepping outside of my knowledge zone a little further on. Sharon Navs up too and we're soon back on our merry way.
The plan is - ahem - we both have "Bathgate" in our Sat-Navs. This will lead us south and when we get close to Bathgate we'll stop and enter a new destination. This way we're picking a nice route rather than letting Google take us on the main roads and motorways. I tell Sharon there'll be a short bit of motorway to get us past Edinburgh and the surrounding conurbations then we'll be back into the countryside.
Doune - OK. B824 - good. Junction 11 of the M9 onto the A9 - busy. Very busy. Very busy indeed. This is a roundabout where the traffic heading north off the M9 comes across the roundabout onto the A9. There is a constant uninterrupted stream of cars and trucks and buses and coaches without gaps for our line to get into. We wait and wait until we're at the front of the queue.
The Kier Roundabout, apparently.
Hmmmmm. Normally Sharon and I wait till there's a gap large enough for both of us to get through. It's painfully clear this is not going to happen here. I take a long deep breath... bide my time... then gun it hard when the merest of merest little gaps appears. Around the roundabout - ooo! Nope not that turning, the next one. I look back across the junction - Sharon's still there waiting her turn.
I'm on the M9 heading south. I'll keep my speed to 50 which will allow Sharon time to catch up. Time passes. Hmmmmm. No Sharon. Oh poop oh cock, has she popped the junction like I did but come a-cropper?
I'm starting to panic. What to do? If I pull off to wait for her there's every chance she'll ride past. It is illegal to stop on the hard shoulder unless it's an emergency - waiting for your partner is not an emergency. I keep going. I could pull off and call her? No, but then, errr, no there's not much motorway and we both have the same destination in the Sat-Navs. If she's crashed what do I tell her kids? She's a cautious rider, she's probably still sat there with a queue of irate drivers peeping at her. Oh $£&* I wish I'd taken another route...
There's 19 miles of sweaty, nervous and dithering motorway before Sat-Nav tells me to pull off at junction 4 of the M9. I need to stop, I NEED TO STOP!! I remember my own advice to Sharon - NEVER put yourself in danger, safety first. I find a layby to pull into along the A801.
It's not far, but it is a long way...
Google maps traffic shows the traffic still flowing at the busy roundabout - if she's crashed badly it ought to be chaos by now. But still, maybe I'm wrong? I try to call her, the phone rings which is a good sign, if it was smashed it would go straight to answerphone. But no answer. No messages. Oh gawd oh hell. The best course of action is to wait. She'll call me soon asking where Aberdeen is in relation to where I am. I'm pacing up and down the layby. I check the tyres. I check the oil. I check the phone again and again and again.
HOLY BLEEDING COW!!!! There she is! Z400 and Sharon all complete and intact and riding properly towards me. I jump up and down to ensure she's seen me and she pulls in. Sweet relief.
Right - what happened? She negotiated the very very busy roundabout safely but remember when I said "Around the roundabout - ooo! Nope not that turning"? Well Sharon took the A9 southbound not the M9. Easy mistake that I almost made. Being a good girl she didn't panic and make a stupid dangerous manoeuvre, she carried on safely until she could pull over and assess the situation.
We've talked about this A LOT. Taken the wrong lane - stick with it fix it later. Taken the wrong turning - stick with it fix it later. Don't put yourself in danger to keep with up me. And so on and so on, safety first, I'd sooner see her get lost and I get frustrated and worried rather than either of us end up hurt. She did precisely the right thing and kept herself safe.
She did send me a message... but forgot to press send in the heat of the moment. She decided the best option was to continue following the Sat-Nav as that's where we are both going. Sensible. As such Sat-Nav lead her a merry dance around some-town-or-another then back onto the motorway and back to me. Fan-freaking-tastic. She too was nervous as I'd said "there's a bit of motorway", she wasn't expecting 19 (minus her detour) miles.
As she's telling me this I feel the tension draining out of my body. We set the Sat-Navs to Carnwath and set back out. I know what it's like to lose a partner, I'm thankful I'm not going there again today.
Yeah, we're definitely out of The Highlands now. We've dodged most of the towns but gone are the towering and endless mountains, we're in farmland and hardy moor, the villages are closer together, and yet once away from the motorways it starts to feel quite wild again. There's sun in the sky, the roads are good and Sharon's back behind me. I'm enjoying myself.
I've been through Peebles before but I don't recall it being quite so lovely. It's also time to reset the Sat-Navs and have a brew, despite today's mishaps we're still making good time. The cafe is one of those modern types, slightly hipster and the tea comes in a cafetière... I must be getting old. Never the less the tea reaches the places it needs to and we head back out.
Everywhere looks good in the sun, particularly Peebles.
Sharon asks that we fill up soon, she's not desperate but you know, good practice and all. By the time I spot the petrol station at the edge of Peebles it's too late - I sail by, there'll be another. Alas there is not. The 20 miles from Peebles to The Tushielaw Inn are remote B roads and back lanes, I have failed. Not only that I take a wrong turn making the 20 miles into 25 miles.
The Tushielaw Inn is in the middle of nowhere. It's lovely countryside - both dairy and arable with hills and stonewalls and babbling brooks. Sharon however is frustrated with me for not stopping for fuel. I explain - I thought there'd be another petrol station but I was wrong. She's flapping as the meter's just started flashing and we're far from anything or anywhere.
It's this kind of landscape nearby.
It's been a day. Rik's bike not working - although not my fault I was concerned it might spoil his trip. Getting separated from Sharon and wondering if she'd been squished by a 40-tonner. It's been a week. Almost a thousand miles of leading, navigating, trying to find the best routes, trying to find the best places to stop. Now I'm the bad man because I didn't stop for fuel. I lose it, I see red.
Like I know where every fuel stop is in the UK?! Like I know every junction in the UK and how busy it'll be today!? Like I want to get Sharon and everyone else I ride with killed by jamming on my brakes as I spot the fuel stop or the cafe or the scenic viewpoint?! Like I know every pretty road in the UK!? I'm gritting my teeth, almost shouting at Sharon. I'm trying. I'm really really trying my very best.
There's no pictures from outside The Tushielaw Inn, you can probably guess why not.
Slightly embarrassed - wondering if the handful of people in the bar heard anything - we book in. The pub is a proper country pub, dated, simple and a little worn around the edges but perfectly acceptable. The room is well appointed with a clean smart en-suite and fresh bedding and towels, again it's just a tad well used.
Perfectly pleasant accommodation for tonight.
I - we - have calmed down. The nearest petrol is in Hawick some 17 miles away and I reckon she'll have enough to get there - otherwise I'll siphon some out of my tank. With this Sharon chills out and I wind my neck in.
I know what the problem is - I play the role of competent leader and I dare say I do a good job for the most part. Much like an engine that runs reliably well you stop noticing what it is actually doing. Correctly metering fuel and air, compressing the fuel air mixture 10 fold, sparking at precisely the right moment, capturing the force of an explosion and turning it into rotational motion. All this happens 2, 4, 6, 8 thousand times a minute for mile after mile after mile after mile.
We only notice the engine when something fails. We only notice the odd misfire and not the billion successful combustions. It's only when I miss the turning, can't find the cafe, don't stop for petrol or make a questionable lane change that all hell breaks loose.
After settling into the room we head downstairs for something to eat. The pub seems to be a family affair - there's nothing at all wrong with this, it's just odd compared to what I'm used to nowadays. I'm reminded of the pubs my parents would take me to when I was a child. The bloke behind the bar is the bloke who brings your meal, you sense a wife or a brother out back cooking the meals in the same way my mum did at home.
The food ain't fancy, I can't see a Michelin star but it's hearty and tasty and just like the kind of pub grub I'd enjoyed as a kid. The bar is almost empty tonight and we retire to the room and watch a little TV, have a long, hot, deep bath and get to bed early. It's been a hell of a day.
Share your own bad biking day - click here.
Prologue - Scotland, And A Little Rain
In the lead up to this year's trip with friends it's all sorted and settled very swiftly. With that done all Ren has to do is contain his antici...pation and try to be a growed up and not a child. No hope.
A Lovely Start
Good weather, good roads and a good campsite next to a pleasant town. There must be something wrong with the universe if Ren isn't grumbling and griping, this can't last.
Northbound, A Ferry And Big Trees
The Dynamic Muppets are continuing their ride north and so far there's no major disasters. There's roads to be ridden, a favourite ferry and a strange new place to explore.
Finally - The Highlands
It's the time of The Gathering in The Highlands (some of you might get that...). The sun is shining, Ren is less miserable than usual and all is well. Wait, are we on the right website here?
Mixed Weather And Mixed Roads, Mallaig And Strontian
With mixed weather on the cards it'll be interesting to see what the day brings. Not everything goes quite to plan but things are done, motorcycles get ridden and sights are seen.
Deluge, Disaster, And Delights
Oh what a day! There's disaster and rain, sunshine and delightful hospitality, and the drama of weather and Highland scenery. Buckle up.
Easy To Dalwhinnie And Shameful Friends
It's an easy day's ride in The Highlands today although not everything is going quite the way it should. It doesn't help when Ren's friends are shopping for... soap.
It's Been A Fair Old Day
After a great week in The Highlands it's time to leave. However fate doesn't want them to leave, nor does Ren. Things aren't going quite to plan today.
Homeward Bound And Epilogue
After yesterday's debacle things are going much better for Sharon and Ren today. It's an easy ride home and the final summing up.
Reader's Comments
nab301 said :-
All that worrying for nothing , at least the sun was still shining!
Nigel
21/09/2024 14:42:20 UTC
Ren - The Ed¹ said :-
Hindsight is a wonderful thing but it's blummin' useless in the moment. Sunshine always helps though.
21/09/2024 18:43:00 UTC
said :-
Peebles, it's blummin lovely, innit.
I keep threatening we'll go on holiday there but it's only a hour from home.
But I think we probably will, maybe next year.
I also fancy Newfoundland.
Pfffffffft.
22/09/2024 22:30:10 UTC
Simon K said :-
Sounds like a rough day Ren. Glad you both got through it. Just catching up with the blog, thanks.
01/10/2024 08:14:46 UTC
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Travel StoriesScotland, And A Little Rain