Wales July 31st - August 3rd 2009
The little seal ascended the appropriately named Fish Hill and made a couple of
catches……..
The weather forecast for the weekend was poor; with a lot to do at home I was in
two minds as to whether to go or not. I considered the fact that if I didn’t I
would be thinking about the craic in the pub with my biking buddies whilst I was
painting my hall and landing so, after various messages saying that my “wit and
banter” might actually be missed, I decided to go and duly turned up at Watton
at 8 am on the Friday morning – a bright, sunny Friday morning to boot.
Just the 9 of us going from Watton – John preferring to navigate a more west by
north west course with Jim, a new member and not seen by any of us until dinner
that evening. Cameron would join up with us at Chipping Norton.
I took a leaf out of pare it down Tony Page’s Book of Minimalist Travelling and
got everything into the topbox – everything apart from a pair of shoes that is,
necessitating a trip into Newton later that afternoon for a cheap pair of
trainers.
Cup
of tea and a bacon roll at Barton Mills and then the obligatory boring bit
across to Milton Keynes, Bedford to there being one long 40mph limit and road
works. At least they are getting their new road; presumably the RSPB were unable
to find any curlews to block the progress of a new road which might actual
benefit people and save lives.
Fuelled
up at Chipping Norton with the delicate aroma of a slurry tanker pumping out
next door. Cameron was there to meet us on his ZX9R and so then our group of 10
went to the usual pub for lunch in Moreton-in-the-Marsh. Mack had misplaced his
Domino Pizza panels from his panniers, but luckily Cameron had some spares which
he affixed to Mack’s bike whilst he was eating lunch.
It is interesting that as the years pass there are fewer bright sparks able to
take the you know what out of those of us who carry an extra few pounds in case
of a cold snap. Either that or swine flu has an unexpected characteristic of
shrinking biking leathers. Ray’s CB1000R looked good in its new livery.
Unfortunately the Anusol epithet has stuck since someone (not me) suggested it
on the forum. How cruel some people can be. It was probably started by Carl
giving his Tranny a really hard ride.
The A44 gets better the nearer you get to Llanbister and after filling up at
Crossgates we rode up to the chalets. As we were two down on the trip I was
allowed to stay in chalet 1 in a single bed in the lounge area, with the Three
Musketeers in one room and Chris and Pete in the other bedroom. Far less wind
and snoring in the lounge.
We all went to Newtown so I could get some shoes before it started to rain,
which it did quite well on the ride back. I say it every year, but that A483 is
fantastic – if only it could be closed to cars, caravans and tractors when we go
across there!
Friday
evening and we all ate down the pub, joining Rosie and Jim who were staying
there rather than at the chalets. The forecast didn’t look too bad but Saturday
started very drizzly but clearing mid morning. We took the back road to
Aberystwyth via the Elan Valley. By the time we got there the sun was shining
and the wets came off. We had become split from Rosie and Jim but Carl rang John
who had decided to do his own thing with Jim. That doesn’t sound quite right
does it.
Up
to Lake Bala and we managed to lose Chris and Pete somewhere in the coastal
traffic – always difficult to keep a group that size together. Having said that,
they ended up in Ffestiniog instead and by the time we left Bala to go there
they were halfway back. Chris wasn’t very happy but I gave him back his rattle
the next day and all was well. In Newton Mack and Cameron managed to pull some
local lovelies at the cashpoint whilst Carl was booking a table at the local
Indian for those who wanted to ride back to Newtown later on. Cameron told Mack
the next morning that it was he who was better at pulling the women. I did say
that that was only because he was better at helping them with their homework.
Sunday was a clear dry morning and we headed off to the Black Mountains. Pete
was reading his MCN as he rode along and hadn’t yet got to the riding tips
section on “How To Take a Left Hand Bend at 40mph” section and went ploughing
instead. Chris came to the rescue as he had a relative nearby with van and
trailer. We all thought Peter was far more concerned about what his wife was
going to hit him with, but she and the kids arrived and all seemed well.
Snack
at Llandovery then the A44 back from Aberystwyth, which was quite brisk, then
rejoined Mack and Cameron at Newtown for the A483 back to the digs. Then it all
kicked off.
Mack at the front followed by Cameron, then Carl, then me, followed by Jason and
Ray. Well, it just got quicker and quicker. No-one has any idea how Carl rides
that Transalp the way he does – it must have a nitrous kit secreted somewhere.
Anyway, the terrible twins (as in people, not vees) weren’t getting away and I
had one chance to get past Carl on a reasonably long straight. I say reasonably
long, because as I drew alongside I noticed that there was a sharpish left/right
combination approaching at considerable speed. The new sintered front pads did
their job as I felt the whole bike squirm and squirrel – apparently the rear
wheel was in the air a few times. If its good enough for Vale…….! Anyway, got
through the bends and caught up with Cameron on the ZX9R. Keeping up and gaining
in the bends on the (private road officer) at, ahem several mph, but as soon as
the road straightened just not enough power to get past.
Carl had been hitting the rev limiter in top lying flat on the tank!
A truly fantastic ride to finish the trip.
We
all walked down to the pub in the evening - what a view! The free Welsh Malt
courtesy of Ray (the landlord) set the scene for one of the funniest and most
enjoyable evenings I have had in many a month. We must break out the water of
life more often I think. Still don’t know what to do with iced towels though
Jason, and I have funny feeling I don’t want to know either!
The ride home was bright and dry. Fish Hill caught a few out (you have to be in
a very low gear before you take the sharp left or you bog down) and the
Bombardier steered his TDM round in a very smug and self satisfied manner.
Boring ride through Milton Keynes where we managed to lose some of us, then some
of us met up for a final tea at Barton Mills, only to be joined 10 minutes later
by Rosie and Jim, who had taken an alternative route.
In my humble opinion, one of the best Welsh weekends ever. All booked for next
year – be there or be square. Yeah. Groovy.
Oh, and thanks to John and Jason for the splendid pics. Its normally me who
takes them and I still wonder who the little fat bald bloke is in some of the
shots………
I have a 29 minute on board video too – some of it is quite good though for
“legal reasons” I don’t want to publish it online. If anyone wants a copy then
let me have a blank DVD and I’ll burn one.
As for the cryptic opening line - you had to be there to understand, eh Gary?
Now we await Torquay. Just don't mention the war.
Photo albums here
