Coronavirus was still very much kicking about. There was talks about Lockdown type guidelines coming back into force and the weather forecast was looking fucked. Aidan and I were still positive, as was Andrea. Bike trip!
The plan was pretty simple. Three nights camping with an extra night for me staying with Aidan and Jess at the start of the trip. We'd decided to take our rolling projects rather than our usual touring... sorry, Adventure Bikes. I'd picked up my BMW K75s a while back and had been fixing through the issues which a BMW that's been sitting around doing nothing throws up. Aidan however had just got his bike a week before, a Suzuki DR350 which he'd procured from Joe. Joe is usually seen in these pages driving a BMW car through the Alps on our Europe tours. A rolling project usually isn't short of issues but the DR was legal and roadworthy and we had all assured each other it was reliable when Aidan bought it, hadn't we?
The weekend before the trip, the weather forecast was looking fucking horrific for our panned route. As the week went on however things began to improve. Portmahomack, my proposed first night destination on the East Coast, was looking great! Positive vibes a flowin', I packed all the things necessary for the trip on to Mikey Sunter (the name I had given the K75) which was in my parent's garage (I was in the middle of flitting) and got my shit together to set off. When you're used to packing an Africa Twin with stacks of space then you're used to having plenty space for a few luxury items. It's not just that, top loading panniers are always much easier than suitcase style stuff or soft bags when you're camping. There was a genuine panic when I thought I wouldn't be able to fit my Boombox on the back.
Panic averted, I set off with my Boombox secured to the K75. I'd also rigged up a charging system to keep my spare Gopro batteries sorted. A nice but wet run took me to Oban where I refuelled the bike and filled myself with a chippy. Aidan's place was just a half hour or so away where it was beers and hot tub o'clock.
The sun was shining as we set off the following day after a few minor adjustment's to Aidan's DR and I repacked my kit on the K75. Aidan had a minor brown moment as we came back into Oban but turning the fuel tap to reserve (remember that?) confirmed he was just low on fuel. Fifteen minutes later we stopped again, it had started spitting so Aidan needed to get his one piece suit on. We had a good run up the east side of Loch Ness managing to avoid the worst of the rain. There's some great bits of road that run that way and they're often much quieter and have arguably better scenery than the A82 on the west side.
We arrived at sunny Portmahomack and found the campsite a real old school place ran by the church! I was slightly concerned I'd burst into flames or something but the minister was a sound guy who loved bikes. The site is pretty basic but has everything you'd need and is right beside the beach. We got some beers and stuff from the local shop and chilled out on the campsite to wait for Andrea who arrived a couple of hours later to the distinct sound of his Harley. We had a good evening in Portmahomack, it's a place I'll definitely visit again once the covid situation is better.
We had planned to ride over to camp near Gairloch the following day but the weather there was absolute shite. The rain and wind was so strong some of the roads we'd need to use were closed. A quick google threw up a few options and we ended up going for a Wigwam near Kinloss which was just down the road. I booked it over the phone and we were sorted. Even if it all turned to shit weather wise we'd have somewhere warm and dry that evening so instead of riding straight there we opted to head for a spin up to Lairg. Andrea and I were enjoying the run but Aidan was being battered about the place something stupid on the lightweight DR. Being the awesome navigator I am I missed the turn off for Alness after Bonar Bridge, totally fucking up the route I had in mind and bringing up out right back at Tain where we'd had breakfast that morning. Aidan and Andrea seemed oblivious to my navigational fuck up and we carried on down the road.
We arrived at the Wigwam place (which shall remain nameless) to find it seemingly bereft off all staff. Eventually someone appeared asking "Who booked online?"
"Nobody, I booked over the phone." says I.
"Yes, but did you get an email? You must have got an email."
"I got the paypal link, is that what you mean? I paid via paypal while I was on the phone."
"Yes, well you've not read your e mail!"
At this stage I was wondering what the fuck was wrong with this guy. I humoured him and reread the email. Sure enough it says that the keys are in an envelope with a welcome pack in a box by reception.
Keys in had I ask "Which wigwam is ours?
"You've not read your welcome pack!"
Now I'm thinking "this guy's a fucking idiot." There's a wee map in the envelope. i now know where the wigwam is.
"Right mate, can you open the gate so we can get up to the wigwam?"
Nothing in return but a blank expression. I jump on the bike.
"How do we get to the wigwam?"
"You've not read your welcome pack..."
"You could just fucking tell us."
"There's no vehicles allowed on the site."
"Fuck this, we'll go somewhere else."
At this stage Aidan took over with his more diplomatic approach. The guy accepted that having the bikes at the other side of the site to where we were staying wasn't the most practical option and thankfully that was the last we seen of him. I've since given the site some feedback so I'm not going to name and shame on here. Apart from this guy the site was great but the last thing you want after a long day on the bike is an arsehole like that.
We visited Findhorn the next day for breakfast. I was expecting it to be a hippy commune but instead we found quite a normal looking village and a pretty decent cafe. Andrea was heading home and Aidan and I were supposed to be heading to Glencoe to go camping but the rain washed that plan away. We opted to go back to Aidan's instead. What followed was one of the wettest runs I've had on a bike in years, we were both soaked!
All in all it was an enjoyable trip despite the weather and fuckwitery. I discovered the K needed new brake pads which upon changing looked the the first new pads it had seen in years! The sun even came out for my ride home.
The epic feature length film of the trip is below.
After what felt like ages there was an announcement from the government that tourism was allowed in Scotland from the 15th July! A quick plan was cobbled together involving wild camping, a couple of campsites that were able to open to taking tents, and a night or two staying with friends. There was a lot of apprehension surrounding our trip. We’d all seen folk blatantly flaunting the “rules” around Covid 19, bending them to suit themselves. Unfortunately motorcyclists and cyclists, two activities I love doing, were among the worst groups for said flaunting with a few selfish individuals of the opinion that the requests made of everyone didn’t apply to them. We hoped that the behaviour of this small minority wouldn't have a negative impact on our trip.
Aidan and I decided to head off to a wild camping spot we know about. We had decided that if there were lots of folk in the area then we’d need to carry on and find somewhere else. Turns out that our chosen location was indeed pretty popular with most of the spots already containing a tent. Luckily it was a bit quieter along the road and we found a place to pitch away for other folk and any buildings or houses. If you recognise the area, please keep it to yourself, I’ll go into why this has become quite important later in this post.
We got up early (for us) the next day packed up, tidied up and set off heading for Glenshee. As always, we prefer the Glenshee/Braemar/Lecht/Tomintoul route over the A9 between Perth and Inverness. It’s a great run and it was good to see so many bikes out with folk enjoying getting out for a run in the good weather.
We carried on north, riding on what they now call the NC500. I’ve heard lots of folk advising avoiding the east side of the route, which suits me, I'll have the roads to myself! The run from Golspie up to Wick is a cracker. Caithness has so much to offer, especially if you’re a visitor to Scotland or haven’t travelled around the country much. The open, barren landscape, cliffs and sea stacks give a good contrast to the hill and beaches of the west. There’s also loads of historical sites and wee harbours to visit if that’s your thing. I stopped in to visit family while property magnate Aidan went to look at a house for sale before eventually finding my way to Ferg’s place. It was pretty easy to spot which house was his…..
That'll be Ferg's place then,
K KREW!
A run across the north coast took us to our next destination, Altandhu. I'd not been over the top of the mainland for a while, I really enjoyed the solo run I took, stopping for photos and wee bits of video here and there. It seemed much shorter than I remembered for some reason and was surprisingly quiet with only a few other cars and motorhomes kicking about. I was surprised not to see more bikes. One of the only other bikes I saw had been clipped by another tourist, a situation which is unfortunately becoming more common, especially on our single track roads. So if you find yourself on a single track road (even some A class roads are single track) then take care!
When riding the north coast (anticlockwise) you are presented with an option just after Kylesku. The quicker option is to carry on the main road, riding the fast sweepers past Loch Assynt. Option two is to take a left onto the tight, nadgery single track roads through the villages of Drumbeg, Lochinver and Inverkirkaig, riding through what is arguably some of the best scenery we have here in Scotland. I was wanting to get to the site at Altandhu and get my tent pitched so I opted for the faster run. At Altandhu we found the site to be really busy. We managed to get a wee corner away from the masses and had a good night dodging between the busy pub and the quieter campsite.
We split into two groups the following day with some folk heading to Strontian for the next couple of nights and the rest of us heading for another secret wild camping spot. I had a great run down to Gairloch with Aidan and Bob where we met up with everyone else at Ian's house. Ian has a great knowledge of the area and had offered to show us a few places to wild camp. If you recognise any of the wild camping spots please keep them to yourself and especially don't band it about online. There was a big problem in Scotland with manky bastards leaving shite and rubbish all over the shop after "wild camping." These arseholes could ruin it for everyone so the less places the cunts can find out about the better. Of course we all took our rubbish away with us and didn't have a fire anywhere it could cause damage or burn anything down.
Big thanks to Ian.
I rode down to Strontian the following day with Bob and Ferg. Once again we had good weather and surprisingly quiet roads. We took the best route, via Gairlochy, Glenfinnan, Lochailort and Salen. It's a really nice run. In Strontian we managed to have our usual visit to the Strontian Hotel. They had set up a big tent with open sides for socially distanced eating and drinking. We were all pretty happy with the measures they'd taken to try and keep everyone safe.
Can you see Bob and Ferg?
It was great to get away. At the time of writing this new Covid regulations have recently came into play here in Scotland. Up to six people from a maximum of two households can meet up anywhere, indoors and out. Obviously this will have a negative impact on bike trips but we need to do what we can to stop the spread of the virus. But fear not! You'll not be bored. I made a feature length film of our trip! Grab a beer and check it out!
More soon hopefully, once again I'm well behind in writing my blog.
The Outer Hebrides. I was last there way back in 2010 as
part of the Outer Limits Tour. Will it have changed? I really enjoyed my last
visit. Hopefully this one will be as good.
The plan was to sail from Ullapool on the Mainland to
Stornoway on Lewis on the Sunday, so I had organised an open invitation camping
weekend at Ullapool. It had started off as an Africa Twin Scotland event for a
Facebook group I set up, but to try and remain impartial after a few disputes I
handed the group over to Dave from Two Wheels Edinburgh Honda and opened the
camping weekend up to everyone. I had come up with what looked like a decent enough route to
take me up to Ullapool. The main part I was looking forwards to was the wee bit
between Drumnadrochit and Beauly. Unfortunately it pished it doon nearly all
the way Beauly, turning my awesome plans into the equivalent of a cold wet
teabag down the back of your t shirt. To make things worse my pinlock had
stopped working, so I couldn’t see anything! Luckily the sun was out for the
last stretch to Ullapool warming me up, drying my gear and making the snow on
the hills look very nice.
Having pitched my tent and nipped to the shops I settled
down to cook some food while a few other folk turned up. Most people opted to
eat in the pub or chippy that evening so I chilled out on the campsite before
wandering down to meet them. Ullapool is a really pretty town and a nice place
to be. I’m often guilty of skipping through as it can be busy with tourists,
but if you’ve never been you’re missing out.
The following day I’d planned a ride around the Coigach
peninsula and Loch Assynt, but only one person wanted to come with me. Pete and
I set off leaving the rest of the guys to enjoy a beer in the sun and wait for
the others to turn up. The run from Ullapool out to Achiltibuie is a cracker,
taking you out to the Summer Isles, passing under the distinctive shape of Stac
Pollaidh. We got a coffee at Altandhu before heading through more amazing
scenery to Lochinver and onto the fast sweepers that take you past Loch Assynt
and back to Ullapool. The Assynt and Coigach area has to be in my top three for
Scottish scenery. I really enjoyed the run. The roads were quiet enough to open
the bike up a bit, I was having so much fun I only stopped a couple of times
for photos.
Pete
Back at the campsite more folk had turned up. I fired the Boombox
up, cracked a beer and shot the shit with everyone. Some of the Massif arrived
as well as other folk who had heard about the camping weekend. All in 19 bikes
turned up, a good turn out!
In dribs and drabs
we wandered away to find food. I opted for a chippy before meeting everyone in
the Seaforth for what turned out to be a great but heavy night. It was nice to
speak to new folk and hear their travel stories. With a severe hangover I packed
my tent up, found some food and made my way to the ferry terminal which
thankfully was just round the corner. Scenery and brief bouts of snoring saw us to Stornoway
where I started to feel much better. A short two mile ride later and we were
pitching up at Laxdale campsite. Everyone had different things they wanted to
see. For me, a bothy on the west coast of Lewis was the top of the list. For
obvious reasons I’m not going to give away its exact location but it’s near
Mangersta. Euan chose to come along, following me over the windy, barren
landscape of the east to the quality twisties in the hills on the west. Riding
round Lewis gives a proper feeling of remoteness. There’s hardly any traffic,
with more sheep than cars on the roads. After a while and with the help of a friendly
local we found the bothy. What a place.
If you really want to visit it send me a message and I’ll let you know how to
go about getting there.
We rode back to
the campsite via the Callanish Stones. The north and east of Lewis is very open
and barren. It’s quite similar in some ways to Caithness, but with long
straight wide roads. You also get a great view of the hills on the mainland. It
was surprisingly easy to identify places from the skyline. Back on the campsite
we found everyone had already had food. Euan and I wandered back into Stornoway
where we found a takeaway open (yes, even on a Sunday). Beers with some of the
other folk on the campsite made for a good end to a good day.
By the time I was
packed up the following day most of the Massif had departed and were on the
road, but not before Moose had made me a nice breakfast. I waved them off and
headed into Stornoway for supplies. I was booked onto the last ferry to
Berneray where we were staying that night and the wee shop would likely be shut
by the time I arrived. Everyone else had booked on an earlier ferry, but I wanted
to have a look around Harris and some more of Lewis on the way down to the
ferry. Moose had mentioned The Golden Road as a potential alternative route
south and I also wanted to visit the isle of Scalpay.
As you get into
the mountainous landscape of Harris the roads become amazing fun as they snake
through the hills. At Tarbert I headed through the town and on towards Scalpay,
passing Moose and Jim’s bikes but with no sign of the lads themselves. The road
to Scalpay is another cracker. A really must do if, like me, you’re a fan of single
track roads. Scalpay itself is really densely populated compared to the surrounding
area but it doesn’t mean you should avoid the area.
I headed back
along that amazing single track road and headed south towards Leverburgh. A few
miles later I seen a sign pointing me along the Golden Road which Moose had
mentioned earlier. I had spoken with an eccentric old dude in Stornoway who had
said it was called the Golden Road because it had cost so much to make. The
road itself is alright. It’s singletrack with decent views and quite a few
patches of gravel to slither about on, but I knew I’d be missing out on a great
run if I followed it all the way so I took a turn off back to the main road
where I stopped to speak with a guy who was cutting his peats.
The main road is
another stunning ride. Big fast sweepers take you down to an impossibly white and blue beach. Harris is famous for its beaches. They really are stunning and for
the most they’re pretty empty. Just keep in mind that while they may look like
the Caribbean the water is definitely Scotland in temperature.
I thought I may
make the earlier ferry so I headed straight to Leverburgh only to find that I’d
missed it by ages. I had a look around and spoke to the guy who owned the
hostel. He suggested I visit Rodel and the southern point of Harris so I took a
wee spin down there before chilling out in the sun at the pub by the ferry
terminal.
The ferry from Leverburgh to Berneray takes about an hour
and is a pleasant enough sailing giving nice views as its weaves among the wee
islands and buoys. Once on Berneray it was a short ride round to the Gatliff
Trust Hostel which is situated right on the beach. Most of the guys had chosen
to stay in the hostel but I prefer my tent. I’ve always used Vango tents,
they’re quick and easy to pitch and are strong enough to take a battering from
the wind, plus they’re based here in Scotland. If they can handle the weather
we get here they should be fine anywhere. Luckily the weather on Berneray was
perfect, sunny but with a slight breeze to see off any midges. The communal
kitchen/dining room in the hostel was full of different folk from all over the
place getting the crack, sharing food and having a laugh, it’s a nice place to
spend an evening, and the views are stunning.
Once my tent was up I had a wee look around the small
island. I got stuff from the shop and wandered about taking photos while trying to keep two wee lambs out of my tent. Apparently they were orphaned and a local guy looks after them, so they were pretty tame. That
evening I treated myself to a meal in the Am Politician, a pub named after the
S.S Politician, a boat that sank of the coast of Eriskay and made the island
famous in the following story, Whisky Galore. The staff in the pub evens show
me some stuff that was recovered from the SS Politician, including some of the
bottles of Whisky. Fed and quite heavily watered it was back to the tent to get
some photos of the sunset, listen to some tunes on the boombox and have a
relatively early night.
Sunart Camping in Strontian is a regular haunt of the Winton
Massif. It was good to catch up with Tim and Lynn. HB and I went out to the pub
for a meal before meeting everyone once more back at Sunart Camping. John seemed
to have enjoyed himself. We said our goodbyes to him and the rest of the guys
the following day. They were all heading home but HB and I were off to visit
Jess and Aidan at their place just south of Oban. There’s some great roads in
the area, HB and I had a good explore around Seil before heading to Aidan's for the evening. It was a grand way to finish the trip.
Next up, the Alps.
Mike
If you're interested in a guided tour of Scotland that doesn't cost the earth give me a shout at http://passingplacestours.com/
