Winton Massif - Back over the top.

Way back in 2009 while on the Wrong Way Round tour we met a big German named Wolfgang. Wolfgang became the first international member of the Winton Massif and over the following years visits were made between Scotland and Germany, but we'd been unable to sort a proper Massif Scotland trip out..... til now!
Wolfgang rode over from Germany with his girlfriend Uta's son Moritz. I'd met Moritz back when I'd ridden the ZZR back from Germany, back then he'd been on a wee 125, but he'd now got a Yamaha MT07, tricked out with a few bits and bobs including a great sounding pipe. Uta and her daughter Nina had flown over and hired a car. Wolfgang and Moritz joined them visiting some of the Edinburgh tourist attractions for a few days before it was time for us to leave.

Glenlivet was the evening's destination. A quick blast up the motorway saw us to Perth where we headed north via Blairgowrie and Braemar. I really don't need to mention this anymore, but if you're heading north in Scotland, avoid the A9 between Perth and Inverness, just like we did.
At Braemar we stopped in at the Hungry Highlander for a bite to eat. Wolfgang, Moritz and myself had ridden up the road with Aidan and Faithir, at the Hungry Highlander we met up with A-Mac, Dave and Murray. The Winton Massif rarely ride as one big group, this time being no different with dribs and drabs pooling together for photo stops or to look at something. The route up through Glenshee and over the Lecht is a firm favorite of mine, I could ride it every week and still never get bored.

We got set up at Glenlivet Hall, with some folk staying in the hall and others setting their tents up outside. The hall has a big kitchen so I suggested we cook a load of fajitas. Aidan, Wolfgang, Moritz and I took the bikes into Grantown Upon Spey for ingredients and beers. On the way back up the enjoyable, twisty road we bumped into Snake and Tex who had came down from Caithness for the night. Fed and watered, we sat outside talking bikes and bullshit for a while. Liam and Euan turned up and we bleathered away till it got dark.

The following day we set off once more in small groups. I had to drop the key for the hall off so it was a solo run for me till I met up with the guys at Tiso Inverness. There’s a great wee café upstairs in Tiso that we like to visit for a coffee or a bowl of soup. From there it’s the relatively dull run to Golspie before the twisties take you over the Berriedale Braes and into Caithness. We stopped off at Snake's place to see his bike collection then I nipped into Lybster to visit family and get a photo at the harbour before another solo run through Wick and up to John O’ Groats. Groats gets a hard time from folk for being boring and barren. I think this is unfair, the campsite gives great views over to Stroma, Swona and Orkney and the high barren cliffs give a great contrast to Sutherlands hills and beaches in the west. Tents up, we ate at the wee cabin by the harbour before heading up to the Seaview pub for a few beers.

 

We said our Goodbyes to A-Mac, Dave, Murray and Liam the following day. Liam headed south for home while A-Mac, Dave and Murray headed off to Ullapool. Durness was our destination. Despite the damp conditions the run over the north coast road was enjoyable as always, with a wee detour to see Dunnet Head, the most northerly point of the Scottish mainland. We had just arrived at Durness when it started to absolutely pish it down torrentially. Tents were hurriedly erected and everyone hid inside reading or having a snooze.  

 

Durness campsite is a stunning place to visit. I was a little bit disappointed for Wolfgang and Moritz that the weather wasn’t better, keeping us off the beaches the area is famous for. The shelter of the tents was traded for the shelter of the pub where faces were fed and pool balls potted.

Luckily the weather had improved the next day. We got packed up and carried on round the coast after helping bump start a stricken GS rider who had accidentally left his Bluetooth headset charging on the bike, flattening the battery. Shoving it around the campsite several times proved to be useless so the big beemer was wheeled out to the main road. It fired up easily after getting up to speed down the hill beside the campsite and a sweaty Winton Massif headed off to Achiltibuie.

 

The previous two day’s rides from Inverness to Groats and on to Durness were part of the famous North Coast 500 or NC500. Our route from Durness continued along the NC500 before we turned off to Achiltibuie at Lochinver. There’s lots of people ranting on the internet that the NC500 has ruined the roads and the place is now swamped by caravans and campervans. Sure, there’s a little bit more traffic than there used to be, but it’s hardly hoaching with folk. A few extra overtakes or friendly beeps of the horn to remind visitors to let faster traffic pass is all that’s needed. Remember to keep an eye on your mirrors too, while you may be riding along taking in the scenery there could be local person behind you trying to get somewhere.  The fast, open roads from Durness turn steep, tight and twisty at Kylesku, following the coast round to Lochinver through Drumbeg and over to Achiltibuie. This is my favourite area of Scotland. The dramatic scenery of Assynt and Coigach is sensational, unfortunately for us though, some thick cloud obscured our views of the famous hills in the area. I was disappointed but Wolfgang was grinning away. He said he liked the rain and the cloud! At Altandu, just round from Achiltibuie, we met up with Egor on his F800GSA and our usual evening of food beers followed along with half of us getting roped into a pool competition which the local guy who set it up won. Every think you've been conned?

Conned or not, it was a great laugh and a good night was had by all. The following day we said our goodbyes to Euan, who headed home while the rest of us headed off in small groups to Applecross. I rode for the first part of the day with Aidan. All was going well until we stopped at Laide to refuel the bikes. It turned out my hairy backed friend had lost his phone and bank card. After a few phone calls and some panicking both the phone and the card were found safe and well in the campsite's wee building. Aidan set off back the way we'd came to retrieve his stuff while I carried on in the Gairloch direction on my todd. It's a brilliant run around the coast to Kinlochewe which I really enjoyed despite the damp conditions. By the time I arrived at Kinlochewe I had one in the bomb bay, while I was in the bog I heard some bikes pulling up. Wolfgang, Moritz and Egor welcomed me on my toilet exit and the four of us rode round to Shieldaig where I split from the group to ride over the Bealach Na Ba while the other three took the coast road to Applecross.  At Applecross we met Carina and Maw. Aidan arrived a bit later, his calamity prone day carrying on with a jar of jam bursting open over his top box. Never mind, he said he'd had a perfectly dry run and even a jam spillage didn't dampen spirits, we had our usual enjoyable evening in the Applecross Inn where Wolfgang and Moritz samples some proper Scottish produce. As usual, we followed our evening in the Applecross Inn with a morning at the Waterside Cafe in Lochcarron where a few of us attempted the Challenge Breakfast.

A great run down Glen Garry on the A87 took us south. We were heading to another Winton Massif favorite, Sunart Camping at Strontian. Rather than cross the Corran Ferry, Aidan and I rode around Loch Eil and down the A861, a nice wee singletrack road.

We met up with Smillie at Strontian and had a great evening with a barbecue on the campsite. Tim who owns Sunart Camping rode with us to Ardnamurchan Lighthouse, another cracker of a run. It's only around 35 miles but the twisty narrow singletrack road means it can take over an hour to get along it. We had a wee look around the lighthouse before getting the ferry over to Mull from Kilchoan. It really started to chuck it doon while we were sailing over, Luckily we were staying at the Tobermory Hostel that evening, only a few hundred meters from the ferry. 

As always, Tobermory was a good night out. Unfortunately the Oban ferry the following day was fully booked apart from the 7 am sailing. Aidan and I decided to get the later ferry over to Lochaline but everyone else opted for the early Oban boat. Still, a great night was had by all. The weather had been a bit crap, but that's not unusual for June and it didn't get anyone down. Everyone had a great trip, especially Wolfgang and Mortitz. We'll just have to do another trip next year and book some sunshine.

More soon.......

Mike.

Passing Places Tours.

I've set up a new venture, Passing Places Tours! For a while I've been offering folk advice on where to go in Scotland for the best motorcycle holidays, so I've started a motorbike tour company. The way I see it, I've gained enough knowledge and experience over the years to offer a great wee trip without costing people a fortune.

I've got my first trip coming up, so I'm getting a wee bit nervous. I'm taking 14 folk away on a one night trip to Applecross. I'm charging my clients £85 for this first trip. The cost covers a night's accommodation at Hartfield House in Applecross, a three course meal in the Applecross Inn and a guide to show you the way, me. 

I must have done something right, because all my spaces sold out within a week! So if you want to come on one of my planned trips, or you'd like me to show you around, check out my new website, www.passingplacestours.com.

Mike

Europe Tour 2016 Part 5 - The last leg.

Continued from Part 4

Having had a great kip in Hotel Altitude we packed up and headed north again. Today's ride would be a short one, with Beaufort being our destination, just over the next pass. Beaufort was where HB and I had got stranded for three days when the 1150 GS's fuel pump shat itself back in 2009.

Riding away from Val d'Isere it seemed like we were going down for ages before the road climbs sharply up the tight twists and turns to the top of the Cormet De Roselend. Aidan loved this pass, flying off in front,  chucking his Triumph through the tight turns. The pass opens up at the top offering great visibility to really have fun in the corners. We stopped at the top where there was a guy selling juice and some local meats and cheese. He offered us a wee taste which we took, despite the flies landing here and there. 

We tore off down the hill once more till Aidan pulled over for a photo in nearly the same spot as we had broken down years ago. There's great views of Lac de Roselend, which the road flows around before a wide hairpin decent to Beaufort. 

We stopped in Beaufort for a coffee and some superb cakes over which we discussed our options. I suggested staying in Beaufort, another hotel guys? I left the guys at the cake shop and headed to tourist information, then round the corner to the two hotels that were open in the small town. The cheaper of the two looked the nicest and also said if we stayed we could park our bikes in their garage. By the time I got back with the options everyone else had decided we'd definitely be staying in Beaufort. They agreed on the hotel with the garage and in no time we'd stashed the bikes, had a shower and were back at the cake shop having a braw cold beer. I'd always said that if we we're back in Beaufort it would be good to stay in a nice hotel and get a good meal rather than being stranded bikeless in the tent. That evening we went out for that meal before heading back to the hotel for an early night (for us).

Beaufort was to be our last night in the Alps. Our next destination was at the end of another long motorway stint. We were headed for Aubigny sur Nere, a town with a big Scottish connection and is twinned with the town of Haddington where Euan and I went to school. 

At one of the fuel/water stops I got stick for riding too slow. I had been sitting at 130-140 kph according to the GPS but Euan Rossi and Aidan Marquez thought I was driving miss Daisy. I suggested a wee race too Aubigny which, once was re-worded into a "challenge to Aubigny" to satisfy Aidan's paranoia about cursing ourselves, was on. I sat at my 130 - 140 and watched the pair of them pull off onto the distance. We chilled out and followed the GPS off the motorway onto and A road before we were guided along some really nice, almost single track backroads. We passed Sancerre and rode through its awesome vineyards which came right to the roadside. Soon after we pulled into Aubigny and found our campsite. The weather was once more superb, but making a hot tent less appealing, especially when there was "mobilehomes," wee chalet type things available. Our plan was to stay two nights at Aubigny so HB and I made the executive decision to take one of these  chalets for the four of us.
I asked if there were any other bikes here. Surprisingly the answer was no. I expected Euan and Aidan to have made it here before us, but they were no where to be seen. We chilled out on the front of our chalet and I nipped back and forth to reception to access the wifi and check for messages. After an hour we started to get a bit concerned. Still no sign of Euan and Aidan. My mind flashed back to Aidan's worried voice about cursing ourselves by having a race....
Eventually the phone went. They were fine and had arrived in Aubigny town centre. I gave them directions to the campsite and they rolled in, happy with the decision to take a chalet.

Our time in Aubigny was spent chilling out at the chalet and wandering around the town. France were playing is the football competition (world cup maybe? I cant remember) and the wee old lady in the shop gave us a lip stick type thing that painted red white and blue French flags on our bodies. There was also a few shouts of "Viva l'Ecosse!" to us, I dunno if this was down to Brexit or the Auld Alliance. We tried to visit the Stuart's castle, but it was closed for renovation. We sampled loads of nice food and drinks, from local French black pudding to a kebab and cocktails in the Cutty Sark pub where we watched the football. France won and the locals went mental, driving around beeping their horns and shouting and waving flags. We also got more "Viva l'Ecosse!!" shouts as we walked back up the street to the campsite.

Leaving Aubigny Sur Nere took us onto another motorway blast north. Bouillon was our destination; a small Belgian town just over the French border and only a few hours ride back up north to the ferry at Ijmuiden. We had crossed the border and I had dropped my speed a wee bit as the sat nav was all over the shop thanks to its out of date maps not quite matching the roads. I had spied a few signs for Bouillon, so I new we were close. Just as I was looking for the slip road to take Euan blasted past (he must have been hangry) taking the lead. About half a kilometer later there was the slip road, about a hundred meters after the junction was Euan. His flight of the navigator pace was no match for the beemers brakes. Luckily the dual carriageway we were on was empty cos Euan's solution was to ride back up the road. It was only a hundred meters or so.....

In Bouillon we found Hotel Godefroy easily, and got the our shit off the bikes. This was to be Euan and Aidan's last night, they were getting the ferry home the next day. We had a great meal at Chez Betty's had a few Belgian Beers and sampled some cafe gourmand, coffee served with wee cakes and desserts. Aidan and Euan set off earlyish the next day while it was still relatively cool. HB and I had an extra couple of days which were spent relaxing around Bouillon while trying to hide from the 32 degree heat.

It's an easy run north to Ijmuiden for the ferry. We got up there in no time and chatted with other bikers beside the boat. Once onboard it was the usual meal and a couple of beers in the bar. It's only a couple of hours run home, if you include a breakfast stop for a bacon roll just over the border back in civilisation.

It had been an amazing three week trip, but if you fancy a trip to the alps or the Black Forest you can do it in ten days or so. It's not that far away so get yer passport dug out and get yer arse over. You'll be glad you did.

Mike.