As I
would be camping this time I had to work out how to cram everything I needed
onto a bike without hard panniers, a top-box, or a tankbag. In the end, I used
a canoe dry-sack for anything that wouldn't fit in the canvas panniers I had recently
fitted, and just strapped it and my new tent to sissy-bar/backrest. It wasn't
pretty, but it worked well enough.
I had also added my sheepskin to the seat to see if it would make things a bit more
comfortable, and I had came across an old beanbag seat cover I bought ages ago and
never liked the look of, which now sits unremarked under the sheepskin and
both together help even out the worst of the uneven road surfaces.
As the
forecast promised dry and sunny weather for the weekend I opted for an open
face helmet, fitting a bubble visor for the motorway sections ahead.
The
trip down was fairly uneventful. I used A-roads until crossing the border at Carlisle
where I picked up the M6 for much of the rest of the journey south. Then, for
some reason my new Garmin sat-nav decided that the best way to approach the
campsite was via a series of single-track roads over a mountain.
It certainly made for an interesting last few miles and was probably responsible for a few more grey hairs when encountering the local post van around a blind corner.
It certainly made for an interesting last few miles and was probably responsible for a few more grey hairs when encountering the local post van around a blind corner.
Once
on site, as is the norm, I met up with some old friends, met a few new ones,
and finally got to meet a Twitter buddy and her doggo for the first time. Afterwards,
I got the tent set up and wandered along to the pub for a bite to eat and a beer
or two. And such was Friday.
On
Saturday, rather than hang about the campsite all day, a friend and I caught a
steam train into the nearly town of LLangollin where, after a bit of a wander
around, we had a spot of lunch before catching the train back to the campsite.
The railway is run by the local steam preservation trust and the campsite is located
conveniently behind the main station. Unfortunately, the beer train (see
poster) wasn't running until later in the year.
Later there
were two raffles to raise money for club funds. First one was for a nice little
RT125 donated to the club from the estate of a late club member. The second was
for the usual motley collection of tools, t-shirts, and assorted bric-a-brac. I
didn't win anything in either one, although how I would have explained away yet
another bike I’m none too sure.
Sunday
saw me pack up early, but not quite as early as some, who cheerfully woke everyone
nearby up at dark o’clock before disappearing in a hail of expletives and
two-stroke fumes.
On the
way home, I once again deserted the motorway once the Midlands were behind me
and rode homeward on mostly deserted A-roads up through the North of England
and the borders.
The
roads I used were familiar from many trips years ago on much smaller bikes, so
it was with an air of quiet familiarity that I pootled along in the sunshine
almost all the way home. Spoilt only by a brief, but extremely heavy downpour
just short of Melrose which saw me pull under a bridge till it passed.
The
new bike ran faultlessly and the new screen took most of the wind off of my
chest area making the longer trip more pleasant, although it did create a bit
of a mini tornado around the chin area which messed up my beard somewhat.
My new
guaranteed 100% waterproof jacket, however, isn’t, with said downpour putting
paid to that advertising claim, which is a bit of a nuisance. However, I’ve yet
to find a truly waterproof jacket, most are good for short periods and for
light showers, so I wasn’t really expecting any different. It just means that I’ll
have to pack the usual assortment of waterproofs when travelling now.
*sigh*
