Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts

Saturday, December 8, 2018

End of Summer in the Alps, Part 1.

Black Friday. It's just passed. Some people love it and some people hate it. This time last year HB and I landed a cracking deal on the Newcastle to Amsterdam ferry cementing the Alps as our summer destination once more. We were joined by Aidan and Jess who were riding Aidan's Triumph and Joe and Liz in Joe's Beemer E36. This trip was gonnae be more a holiday than an endurance event and for the first time ever I had booked accommodation in advance. This is something I'm usually against, but due to closed campsites and some special locations it was necessary, you'll see what I mean. Route planned and bikes packed, we headed down to the ferry, stopping at Carter Bar, on the Scotland/England border to show Jess, who'd never been there before. It was around this point that I realised what had been causing my niggling "what have I forgotten?" feeling. I'd not packed my pants (underwear to you American readers.) FUCK!!

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We stopped in a nice wee English town for a bite to eat and I frantically searched for some boxer shorts. The guy in the ship said there was a big shopping centre right beside the ferry port. A hour or so later I was happily re stocked in the underwear department. Sorted. Once we were off the ferry we followed a familiar route down to Luxembourg, stopping to meet up with Joe and Liz in a petrol station. We had all booked into hotels in Vianden as the campsite is now closed, which is a shame, as it's a great wee town and an ideal stop if you're heading from Ijmuiden to the Alps or Black Forest. Satnav roulette was played due to a road being closed for an event. This gave us an enjoyable spin into the town along a route we'd not taken before, a twisty, well surfaced road that's really popular with bikes. In no time we could see the castle that sits above Vianden and stopped for some photos and a wee chat with some of the local bikers.


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HB and I had booked into the Hotel Victor Hugo. We'd stayed there before but this time we had a room with a balcony which gave us a nice view over the river. It really is a nice place to relax. You've got a good choice of places to eat and drink and there's plenty places to see if you fancy a walk after dinner. (which I was far too lazy to do)


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We set off early the next day, an hour’s blast on winding roads far more enjoyable that the French piage and N routes that followed. About 3 hours saw us at the Vosges, home of the cracking Route Des Cretes. I had ridden the Route Des Cretes a few months earlier and really enjoyed it. If you have the time on the way to the Black Forest or French Alps it really is worth the detour.


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Aidan and I had lost Joe a bit earlier and HB and I lost Aidan and Jess just as we got into the Vosges. Everyone had their own sat nav so there was no worries about everyone finding their way to Rick and Andrea’s place where we were staying that evening. The Vosges did prove a bit harder to navigate that I remembered however. HB and I were fine, but Joe, who’s usually never lost, ended up over on the next hill, missing the Grand Ballon pass all together and we’re still a bit unsure what route Aidan took. HB and I stopped at the top of the Grand Ballon, there was a car rally on and quite a few nice motors parked up. We had a bite to eat and took in the views before heading down to Colmar and into Germany. Since spending a couple of weeks cat sitting at Rick and Andrea’s I’ve gotten to know the Rickenbach area quite well giving a familiar Black Forest ride. I was quite surprised that we were the first to arrive, but within the hour Aidan and Joe had found their way. Another night at Stefan’s Pizzaladen followed by some schnapps and star gazing around a Swedish candle.
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Rick and me.

We had a delicious breakfast on Rick and Andrea’s balcony and Joe made some slight adjustments to his car the following morning, by adjustments I mean he changed the whole rear suspension. With only minimal help from Rick and myself Joe had it all done in about an hour, a job that would have probably taken me half a day. Joe now happy with the handling of his beemer we set off, only stopping for a wee bit at the Swiss border to pick up a vignette. We battered along Swiss motorway for a couple of hours before grumbling bellies required filling. I was convinced that we were only a short distance away from Austria, but Swiss Burger King was looking just too good for everyone else. Fast food with rosette prices is still fast food, but it filled a hole. There was also a mild exchange over navigation. We were all using different sat navs which each gave slightly different routes. I thought that if we took slightly different routes that was fine, while Aidan preferred to ride as a group and Joe being easy either way. I’d spent a fair bit of time looking at different routes on the map and had a good idea of where I would like to go and what I wanted to see, but agreed that we’d ride as a group to Austria. We’d all booked hotels for a couple of nights in Sölden. The original plan had been to stay in wee cabins on the campsite, but it was closed.


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We left Burger King with Aidan leading, the turn off for Austria was only a few miles ahead but when we got there Aidan looked as if he was carrying on. I waved like a loony and indicated but I couldn’t get his attention. Joe was behind me, also indicating in an Austrian direction. Time to make an executive decision…. I turned off towards Austria. 

Once over the border we pulled into a petrol station to get a vignette. Vignettes are like road tax and are needed in Austria and Switzerland, although I think they’re only a legal requirements if you’re riding motorways and other main roads. As we headed higher into the hills it began to grow darker. There were a couple of big flashes of lightning and it grew darker still, then the rain came. Rain in the Alps can be torrential. It wasn’t long until the roads were literally flowing like rivers and it was nearly as dark as night, I was toiling to see where I was going with all the spray and glare from oncoming headlights. The road up to Sölden would have been a good one in the dry, but by the time we rode through the third or fourth wee village I was just wanting to arrive. I was glad we had booked a nice warm hotel rather than pitching a soggy tent. We arrived in Sölden just as the sun was coming back out. It was mental how dark it had gotten when it was raining, but now the sun was back out and daylight had returned. Hotel Marco gave us a great view over the valley and the town. The smell was incredible too. Alpine fresh!


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Aidan and Jess had booked into a different hotel than us. We’d stopped on the way up to send text messages and leave voice mails for them telling them where we were. There’s more than one Sölden and I was really hoping Aidan had put the right one into his satnav. He had, a phone call confirmed that they’d also got caught in the rain. They were both soaked through and needed to warm up before we all walked down the steep hill into the town. 
We had two nights in Sölden, my reason for spending two nights there was to have the chance to ride the Ötztal glacier road. The sun stayed shining on Sölden the following day. After breakfast HB and I jumped on the Africa Twin and followed the road up to the glacier. Climbing steeply out of Sölden, the Ötztal glacier road is one of the highest paved roads in Europe. It’s a dead end route that finishes at the glacier itself. Towards the top you get great views of the glacier and down the surrounding valleys. If you ride up you can explore a few dirt roads to get some better views and there’s a tunnel that takes you through to the other side of the hill. Once we were finished exploring and taking photos we parked the bike up and took the gondola further up the hill. I could really feel the altitude in my breathing but the views were absolutely stunning. It’s worth giving yourself a couple of days in Sölden so you can experience it. We had a bite to eat and a beer (alcohol free for me of course) in the café before riding back down to hotel Marco in Sölden. Everyone else were doing their own thing so we had a wander around the town and some more food and proper beers before seeing the evening out with everyone else.
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Heading south out of Sölden took us over the Timmelsjoch, a mountain pass that crosses the border between Austria and Italy. Before you get to the bordrer on the Austrian side is the Top Mountain Motorcycle Museum. This was my second reason to spend two nights at Sölden, I’d never ridden the Timmelsjoch before and having an amazing bike collection on display halfway up was the icing on the cake. The pass itself is a toll road, costing 14 Euros to head one way (its 19 for a return) meaning it’s pretty quiet compared to the other popular passes and the road is well maintained. The toll is payable from the museum, so you don’t need to pay if you’re heading up from a visit from Sölden. Aidan and Jess weren’t fussed for looking round the bikes in the museum so he and Jess headed of over the Timmelsjoch while Joe and I stumped up the 10 euro to get into the museum. If you’re into bikes, especially rare, old bikes then you’ll love the museum. Joe and I spent about an hour wandering around the main, open plan room. There was a bunch of Brough Superiors, a Flying Merkel, an Indian Four, a Munch Mammut… The list goes on. Eventually we met HB and Liz in the café and headed up the Timmelsjoch towards Italy, stopping at the top of the pass for the usual photos.



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Next up, Italy! 



Mike.



Saturday, April 14, 2018

The start of the season....

Winter stuff and trials bike
For many folk here in Scotland April marks the start of "the season" where many folk tax their bikes and drag them out the shed for the year ahead. I can all ready hear the Real Bikers scoffing.
"The season?? You soft bastard Mike! I ride all year round!"
Before I sold the ZZR I would use it for the occasional winter's ride, but I don't really enjoy riding on shite covered roads or getting soaking wet and, despite me devoting a fair bit of time towards the activity, I don't really like washing bikes much either. Here in Scotland the roads are covered in a salty grit in the winter to combat the icy conditions. When wet this forms quite an effective solution for turning nice bikes into rusty piles of shit. Commuters aside, this results two biking camps. Camp 1. The "fuck it, keep riding, enjoy your bike, life's too short" riders. Then there's Camp 2. "My bike's more precious that life itself, its gleaming, I'm keeping it good for my planned bike trips, salts for chips and the sea" bunch. I, or rather, my Africa Twin, is firmly wrapped up in Camp 2, and even when I had the ZZR, I only really had the brochure for Camp 1, venturing out on the nicer days and giving the bike a proper clean after each run..
Winter stuff and trials bike
Winter stuff and trials bike
Winter stuff and trials bike
Winter stuff and trials bike
Winter stuff and trials bike
Winter stuff and trials bike
Winter stuff and trials bike
This winter we had a couple of big dumps of snow named the "Beast From the East" by the panic stricken media. I got the trials bike out for a play which was fun, but hardly scratched the itch that a bike trip relieves. When the snow was away its was still cold, but sunny and dry. I was green with envy when I seen my mate Barry Richardson's photos pop up on Facebook. He'd taken his GS a spin up to Applecross for the night. Heated grips set to volcanic and plenty thermal base layers under his bike gear he took to the salt covered roads. The sunny days and newly re opened Bealach Na Ba made for some awesome photographs.
photo by Barry Richardson
Photo by Barry Richardson
photo by Barry Richardson
Photo by Barry Richardson
photo by Barry Richardson
Photo by Barry Richardson

I'm lucky enough to be in the situation of having more than one bike. I'd sold the ZZR to make room for a couple of projects, but they'll will hopefully be finished and sold soon. I'd still rather keep the Africa Twin in good condition so another second bike is on the cards. Something to keep the miles off the Honda that I could use for winter trips. I'm thinking along the lines of a Transalp, but I'm open to suggestions.
Anyway, the weather has finally changed for the better, and more and more bikes have got back on the road, just in time too. It would seem there was virtual cabin fever brewing on various online forums, Camp 1, sick of being cooped up. Camp 2, fed up riding through shite. Handbags flying, toys getting chucked out prams and dummies being spat while complete strangers lose the plot because another new biker has asked the best way to get to Stelvio or if they need a breathalyser for France. I even fell foul to it myself after one to many people called the Bealach Na Ba the "Apple cross pass".

Samye Ling run on the Africa Twin

Road name, french breathalyser and European speed limit arguments were throw to the back of my mind then blew away in the wind as I accelerated over the Lammies and down to the Borders on a great run to Samye Ling with Other Mike and Faithir. It's easy to take the great scenery and roads around the area where you live for granted. Some people get caught in the loop of doing the same run on popular roads to popular stops every weekend, a circle I often find myself in. I try and make the effort to at least head somewhere a wee bit different every now and then.
Samye Ling run on the Africa Twin
Samye Ling run on the Africa Twin
Samye Ling run on the Africa Twin
Samye Ling run on the Africa Twin
Samye Ling run on the Africa Twin
Samye Ling run on the Africa Twin
Samye Ling run on the Africa Twin

The weekend after Samye Ling I headed off for a solo run. The a different route down the Borders was planned, but unfortunately and I found a stricken V Strom at the bottom of Soutra. Davie had got a puncture. I never had any plugs, but I did have a can of tyre weld at home. Being the good Samaritan that I am, I nipped home and grabbed it. Unfortunately the hole in Davie's tyre was far to big for the tyre weld to work. He called the RAC and I headed for a wee blast down to Gala for fuel then back over the hill from Stow to Lauder.

Spin soon the borders.
Spin soon the borders.

HB and I had an evening Spin up the hills and down the coast for a chippy in Dunbar which was great for testing the Hyperpro springs I'd fitted. The borders was the destination for another Saturday spin, this time Smillie, Faithir and I headed down to Newcastleton on some of the wee roads, a great run with roads to mach some of the best up north.
Up the hills with Carina.
Doon the borders.
Doon the borders.
Doon the borders.
Doon the borders.

So another weekend is looming. There's talks of a camping trip but which way should we go? I'm thinking north, but we'll wait and see.

Mike.

Winter stuff and trials bike