A motorcycle parked in front of a tent on a pleasant green campsite

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It Was Going OK, Until It Wasn't

Ride Date 6 July 2025

By Ren Withnell

Hmmmm. This new tent is not a blackout tent (ie no light gets in) but it is marketed as a "nightfall" tent which means in daylight it's kind of darkish. Actually, errr.. yeah I think I like it, it's about right. A blackout tent would see you fumbling in the dark even when the sun is up, this allows enough light in to find my pants without being so bright as to wake me. 

Mind you it is 0530. There's daylight outside but peeling back the tent door reveals grey skies, it isn't cold though. Her Ladyship stays ensconced in her sleeping bag doing what she likes to do best - waking up very...very... VERY slowly. While she's doing this I brew up and scoff my allotted breakfast, make my ablutions, plan my route and check the weather. Oh dear.

"Marauding Showers" is what I like to call this type of forecast. It won't rain all day but it almost certainly will at some point, more likely points. We're big boys and girls here, we've experienced rain before, I'm sure we'll be fine. 

Camping Gaz stove, pan and cups in the tent porch
Best make Madam a brew before I give her the weather forecast.

Sharon arises, she's remarkably perky this morning and even more remarkably organised. We're packed and loaded by 0930 which is most welcome if a little alarming. We've around 150 miles to cover today although because I've chosen to avoid motorways we'll be on the road for some time. At least at the end of this day's ride we'll be at my dad's place with a proper bed and seating etc.

Much like yesterday as we don our bike gear the rain starts. Fair enough, we're already in our waterproofs. As we start the engines the rain becomes a major downpour. We ease out of the car park and along the road, already waterlogged and flooding in places. It's going to be like that huh? 

It is my experience heavy rain like this tends not to last all that long. I won't let that fool me though, although rare there have been the odd times where this thick gloopy rain has lasted for many hours. I gird my loins and turn onto the main road heading south, ensuring Sharon is keeping with me. At least I cleaned my visor this morning, vision is improved.

The rain eases, thankfully. This is typical middle England, a mix of gently undulating fields, thick hedgerows, small towns, and then more farmland. It's charming enough, peaceful even, it rather lacks drama after a while. I take a moment to stop in Deddington to adjust sat-nav which leads us around Oxford. This Oxford is nothing like the Oxford of Inspector Morse. 

A pleasant main street in a typical English village, but the skies are heavy and dark
Deddington is apretty even in the heavy skies.

"H Cafe" is on the outskirts of Berinsfield, and is obviously a biker cafe. It takes a moment to suss out the road layout then we're parked amidst 30 or 40 other bikes. Our laden motorcycles are duly noted, by the time I've been inside and got us both a brew Sharon's already being accosted with the usual questions - "where are you going?" and "blimey, you going for a year?" It's bone dry here, our new temporary friend can't believe it's raining hard a few miles north.

We swap tales of Spain, moan about the cost of the ferry, all the while I'm trying not to be envious as he's semi-retired and has a shiny new Africa Twin. It's not his bike I envy, it's his free time and fiscal resources. He's probably worked hard over the years whereas I never did, I was too busy doing what I wanted to do. Swings and roundabouts I suppose, you make your bed and lie in it.

Cafe H, a cafe in a block of shops with a number of motorcycles, riders and benches outside
It's dry at Cafe H.

The town of Reading takes us out of the country and into another homogenous urban landscape. This being lunchtime on a Sunday there's traffic about but it's not too bad. Back into the countryside once more and it's much the same, save for the style of the older homes has subtly changed. The new housing estates all look much the same as they do back home.

Another heavy shower comes and goes, the countryside gets oh-so-slightly more hilly, and the roads just a smidgeon more curvy. By the time sat-nav is showing we're close to Loomies I'm more than ready for another brew and a pee. Loomies is as it always is and Sharon is relieved as when I said Loomies she'd imagined Rykas (Box Hill), she doesn't like Rykas. That's cheered her up no end.

Sharon makes another new temporary friend. This time it's an 80 year old chap, slim and dapper, riding a Triumph 400 Speed. He's not a tall fellow and they're exchanging notes on smaller bikes - the Z500 had been on his list you see. I ask our new pal if he wishes to join us inside, I get another brew and some loaded chips to share. He's a delight, evidently elderly but bright as a button. I'm not envious now, I'm just hoping I can be as alive and vivid as he is when I'm 80.  

I drop dad a message saying we're about 1.5 hours from arrival, that'll be around 1615. I set sat-nav to take us through Midhurst and Petworth as I know this is a better route and we say goodbye to our new friend in glorious hot sunshine. There's more hills and more corners to enjoy, it's warm and dry and there's not too many miles left. Yeah we're doing alright, Sharon's pace on that 500 is more than enough these days, she's become a good rider.

Arundel is always a blummin' car-park along the A27 and today is no exception. It's a right old drag and faff just getting from the A284 to where the dual carriageway begins. It always is, I know it, I'm ready for it, and yet I still get frustrated. That makes me an idiot doesn't it. As soon as we're on the dual carriageway we're off - straight up to 70 as though the traffic jam never happened.

Hmmmm. That's a BIG black dark scary cloud. 

We come off the A27 where it meets the A280. There's a roundabout where I turn 4th right as the rain starts but Sharon doesn't get out the junction due to a van. Yeah. Of course. There's nowhere safe for me to wait. Dagnammit. I have to, I must just go my way... There is NOWHERE to stop! Not even on the side road. Crap. Poop. It's started raining too. There is nowhere safe to stop for over a mile. 

And now it's not raining. It's not even raining heavily. It is absolutely and utterly pouring out of the sky. Raindrops the size of golf balls rattle my helmet as I park in some random side street. I am less than a mile from dad's place but I'm getting a little stressed. Calm down Ren. Breathe. Remember the rules...

First rule - do not panic. Do not panic and put yourself in danger. Well that is exactly why I did not stop in the middle of a major roundabout or beside a busy narrow lane - I found this side road. That is good I am safe here. I hope Sharon also has the same sense of mind and presence. Everything else can be sorted out once we have both gotten ourselves safe.

In my mind I can see Sharon riding all the way to Brighton though. In my mind I can see some nob in an executive car rear ending her in the heavy rain. I need to send her a message. I'd best send dad a message too it's already 1610 and I don't want him stressing.

The phone won't work. It is waterproof and it's not died, but with THIS much rain hitting the screen (it really is that heavy) the touch screen won't operate properly. Some presses get through, others are ignored and the rain seems to generate random presses. OH FFS! And now I've removed my helmet the rain is running down my back. Holy cow I ain't seen rain like this before.

The phone rings - it's Sharon. Good, well hopefully, because that means she's probably safe. I can't answer the damn thing as the touch screen ain't working. AHA! It allows me to answer. I can't hear her though, the speaker is filled with water. OH FFS!!! The rain is also loud, loud on the road, loud on this tree, loud on my jacket and loud as it hits my drenched hair. 

There's no shelter here. Not a tree (big enough), not a building I can get to, not a bus stop or someone's canopy over a door. Poop willie genitalia. I put on my helmet, soaked, and ride a half mile to a petrol station I know that has a canopy. Under the canopy I call Sharon. She is safe, sheltered under some outbuilding at a hospital. She'll send me a picture of the hospital's sign. I message dad, find "Swandean" hospital on the maps and set sat-nav.

The hospital sign says Swandean and we can clearly see huge raindrops falling
The image Sharon sent. You can clearly see the rain.

In the couple of miles to the hospital the rain eases. There are puddles the size of small lakes, a lot of foliage has been ripped from the trees and riding is quite treacherous. Some buffoons are hooning through the puddles in their Land Rovers and Mercs, ripping off numberplates and even a bumper! I have to dodge the buffoons and their detritus. 

Sharon is fine, if more than a little flustered much like myself. She followed the rules - she did not panic and she found somewhere safe to stop. She'd gone back on the A27 (3rd right not 4th), realised I wasn't there, taken the next turnoff and found a safe place to stop. Spot on sweetie, it's been a right old faff and shenanigan but we're both safe and well and that's all that matters in the end.

We ride, gingerly, towards my dad's place. More bumpers and numberplates floating on huge puddles, most folks are driving sensibly but we see several more ****heads ploughing through creating massive waves. Some people are just broken in the head. Eventually we turn into my dad's driveway, dad is sat in the garage awaiting our arrival. He won't say so but I know he'll have been worrying.

We retell our tale to dad and Sue, his wife. We change into dry clothes as a welcome brew is made. I can calm down, all is well. As we sit in the conservatory the sun comes out once more, bright and warm. What a day! What a blummin' day! Upon reflection and with the benefit of hindsight it's actually been a good day, it's just the last hour's rain and ride that threw a spanner in the works.


Advertise here - contact ren@bikesandtravels.com

Dad's And A Detour Prologue So come on Ren, what's the excuse this time? A few notes on the where's and why-fors of a lightweight tour south of The Ship Canal.
A Good Start To Heading Saaaf It's an easy and chill ride today as The Dynamic Muppets make their way southbound. A lucky cafe find, a lovely village and fun in a pub? This can't be Bikes And Travels, surely?!
It Was Going OK, Until It Wasn't With only 150 miles to cover the threat of rain is only a minor inconvenience really. Sharon makes some new friends en route and they both enjoy the countryside riding. It's the last few miles that are a problem.
An Easy Ride And A Woodland Sprite It's a short ride today for the Dynamic Muppets and the accommodation transforms Sharon into an ethereal being. Ren is happy because he gets to be grumpy. Business as usual.

Reader's Comments

nab301 said :-
That sounds like some mad weather , at least you survived! I'd loved to have seen car drivers ripping off bumpers in the floods...
Nigel
19/09/2025 13:30:09 UTC
Ren - The Ed¹ said :-
I wouldn't have thought it possible if I hadn't seen it for myself. When I think of bumpers I'm thinking of the old style steel and chrome bumpers as fitted to Cortinas in the 70's. The chrome bit was part of the bumper structure. I figure the ACTUAL bumper that's structural is still firmly affixed to the car, it's the plastic covers that seemed to have been torn from the vehicle.

If you're going to hit a 1 foot deep puddle at 45mph in a 2 tonne Land Rover there must be a great deal of energy there. Sufficient energy to rip the bumper (trim) off, evidently. I was kinda hoping to see one hydrolocking because I'm mean and petty and wanted to shout "ner ner!"
19/09/2025 14:21:35 UTC
Upt'North ¹ said :-
It won't be much?
We've all been there. More than once.
26/09/2025 11:28:21 UTC

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