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My biking horizons continue to get further away.

I’ll start off with the ‘on board’ stats. In 4 days Bull and I covered 1464 miles starting in Surrey and finishing in Shropshire via John o’Groats. This was at an average speed of 49mph achieving 57.3mpg.

The first day started late as unexpected calls came in. It was Tuesday and the decision to do it was the previous day. The ‘set off’ was at 1130 involving a hack up the M1 then the A1 to Edinburgh. I surprised Launa and Pat (Paddy) who thought I was joking when my email announced I would be up with my bike ‘Bull’. When I set off it was so hot I had to put on my leathers on last as I was sweating like hell. I took a jumper only at the last minute to cover what I though at the time was a wild possibility I might need it. Well, it did get hotter as I passed through the Midlands and I was glad for the ‘speed wind’ of Bull to reduce the sweating. But as I passed Leeds I had to put the woolly on and change to the winter gloves. I arrived in Edinburgh after 2030 in thick mist. The mist had been there all day according to Paddy. Paddy explained at this time of year the land becomes hotter then the sea and hence the mist hiding the sun if the wind does not blow it away.

The next day Paddy showed me to the Forth bridge. ‘NIL’ for bikers but they still make you stop and then let you go at the barrier. They do this also in Wales and Cornwall and I don’t know why. We headed to Perth on the M90 and then caught the scenic A9 due north across the Grampians to Inverness. In these valleys we went over 1200ft above sea level and the weather changed on us at least 3 times. In one bright spell, and in the middle of nowhere, we came across the ‘Fortnum and Mason’ of the North. Harrods also have a branch in the highlands…… there is money up there me thinks. Well, visiting Americans too.

Surrey has nothing to match the food deli and the threads for sale here.

From Inverness we stayed on the A9 running up the East Coast and then I got all excited when the A99 came up for ‘Johonno’. Got there and got the Pic about 1500 seriously concerned by this time Bull was going to run out of fuel with no decent filling station in sight. There was a Post Office with a rusty pump but no way was I risking that with Bull who I was depending on.

Johnno with all our stuff and a photographer that can’t spell or stop telling me to smile.

I had done my research. Johonno is not the northern most point of Scotland but ‘Dunnet head’ is 10 miles to the West. So we went there for a quick pic at the lighthouse. By now we were wet and cold and tired so time for a B and B with a bar. So we went along the A836 along the top in search. We passed Dounreay nuclear power station and several sandy beaches. Amazingly there are beach resorts along this coast where the warm Gulf stream does not touch. There is also a cult following for this clean water as I was to find at the bar that nite.

Dunnet Point Lighthouse. The real northern most point.

We settled for the Strathy Inn at Strathy Point run by a couple from Kent. Met some right local characters at the bar and rewarded my achievement with a haggis. These characters led me to believe I had not gone to the furthest north yet. They claimed that was Cape Wrath at the very west. (An argument to do with grid north or true north).

Looking north before Dinner at 9.

Well, the next day Cape Wrath had to be done before I could turn south. And this proved to be the best stop of the trip but I didn’t like it taking the best part of 4 hours! You can’t get to the lighthouse unless you give up your transport and take a simple ferry across a loch and then take the van service for the last 5 miles across a Naval and RAF target area! I saw some seals and heard tales of killer whales coming in to have a go at them. The ferry journey is not bad also. The salmon were in and leaping and the ferryman had a spinning rode which sadly he did not lend me. He had caught 3 sea trout the day before in his chores. I also found out the law in Scotland is one can fish any estuary by right up to the first bridge! (I’ll be back with Ben).

The most north westerly point missing out to Dunnet (those boys at the bar really had me going….:o) – Cape Wrath which means ‘turning point’.

Looking east on Cape Wrath and the highest Cliffs on mainland UK. (Yes I have not changed my clothes for awhile…:o)

We started south at last on the A838. Yet another A road which was mainly single track with passing points. Great for bikes as they can still pass on coming cars. So progress was approaching 60. But in the morning I had got cocky. I had gone round a bend to meet a garbage truck that didn’t stop at the passing point or slow down. I had to go onto the gravel too avoid it…. It must have had the right of way where as before cars had given way to me or was someone driving it without a proper licence? I think now if that had happened to ‘Mash’ (my first Bike – a Monster 620) and me earlier in the year I would have been seriously shaken. But this was Bull and me 8 months on from the test and more then 7000 winter miles done.

A lonely place along the top.

Down the west coast of Sutherland has to be my favourite part of Scotland. So clean and spectacular and fresh. Cornwall has to be in shame compared to what I have seen in Scotland. The food is far better and the accommodation looks better and more of it. Also the Highlands are kept clean. Rarely do you find litter in the lay byes. But most importantly the Scots want to have fun with their visitors as they make money from them.

Look at that cloud trying to get over the mountain.

I was running out of time as I had to be at my dad’s for Friday evening . So I skipped Lochinvar to see what was left of the famed fishing fleet I had seen years earlier with the most amazing prawns and scallops being landed - but sadly all shipped to France.

We headed straight for Ullapool to make time. Its changed a lot since I camped there as a student. But it was nice change. They have style in these parts. The shops were fab and the fish and chips not the best but really good and much needed. It was now around 1700 and I felt I had to get as far south as possible for the big burn down to Shropshire the next day. It was sunny again and the road drying so we set off with good cheer for Fort William some 150 miles plus away.

Ullapool looking north….. the strip…..:o)

I chose the quickest route down southeast to Inverness (again) and then along Loch Ness southwest to Fort William. The next hour turned into an unexpected dream. Due to the time of day we were alone on the road to Inverness. And did I feel small? I had huge steep and bare granite mountain ranges on either side and a 2 way road to enjoy. The bikers that evening referred to it as the ‘Garve Canyon’ and it is up there in the top 5 best UK biking roads. The road is smooth and the bends predictable with good visibility through them. I just loved the summits as I came to expect turns after them and my mind just begged which way would it go and how hard? Just a dream.

Bull is a great Ducati creation. Of course you have to live with the ‘humanity’ that can also be Ducati. But when you get into those Scottish turns with other tourers from Germany, Japan and the US Bull becomes true to heaven…… a light comfortable tourer with the race cornering characteristics of his brothers. We would cruise at 60 on straights and slow slightly to assess the bend and often return to 60 before the lean. Bull just flows into the lean and says ‘We can go further down you know? I know it is wet but I can give it to you if you want?’ but often I’m too busy working the mirrors as it is here I can make up for Bull’s crummy mirrors and check the blind spot. We kept to our speed limits and just extended from the others naturally, if the occasion arose, in the turn. The scenery was viewed with ease too with the un-usual Ducati upright riding position.

In all the wet we had on the trip Bull did not slip in it. Those Pirellis sure stick and all the tarmac, bar the approaches to Lock Lomond on the last day, excellent. The ride was smooth and the twin engine with the same rumble from low to high revs, when pressed hard for response in the cruising gear, as a Fat Boy – twins together. We did have a rear end slip on gravel at a right junction. My foot came out seeking comfort, but before I needed it Bull corrected my rash decision for ‘power on’ to satisfy my ever growing feeling of invincibility. This Italian loves me.

The run from Inverness along Loch Ness to fort William was real fun also as cars tried to keep us company after the turns as we held to 60 throughout….. they must have thought of me as the nerd that wouldn’t break the speed limit which they could not pass. Then it was wet again and getting colder. I hadn’t had a great nite before as the sun didn’t really go down on the northern coast. I needed to get rested - Bull did not. Generally the B and Bs where plentiful but I found not biker friendly in Fort William. Also some were unsuitable for Bull’s elegant but flimsy side stand. Just south, right next to the Corran ferry across Loch Linnhe, we found a great place with a bar and stables to rest up from the rain. We had missed dinner as it was now 2100 (eating after 9 in Scotland is a problem) but the lady made me a sandwich when I nagged. The barman (husband) showed me my sandwich when I had washed up and opened with ‘did you drop your bike today?’. My look was enough for him and then he said ‘one in this party has’ and pointed to the bikers at the end of the bar. ‘Let me guess’ I said. ‘The rider of the R1?’ I was right. The story that night was a gust of wind at Ullapool blew his front out of line and he was lucky to run off into long grass and gravel to end with a scratched tank. But at breakfast when the ‘binner’ was still in bed the story became true. His 2 riding chums had got into the habit of letting him burn off and that was exactly what happened on the right hander. They just dropped back and obeyed their senses. The last great memory was of the breakfast thrown in with the £19 charge for the nite. I had kippers and toast but the full breakfast next to me came with a black and a white pudding – and get this – a slice of fruit cake on the plate!

Behind and right from the Car is where I bunked. And, yes, the red R1.

The ride on this last day was not fun. To Shropshire was some 420 miles including getting lost around Glasgow – a great example of design by committee spending as much regional grant as possible. Like the Scottish mist the rain is special and ever more so in the gusty wind. The mist one can’t wipe off the visor as it gets on both sides and the rain penetrates leathers English rain cannot. I stopped every 50 or so miles to rest and it took me 12 hours. The upright, but commanding, riding position meant I took the Mother on the chest….. That is all I need say.

Well, there is another story, there was an April test run in good weather. Surrey to Surrey via Lands End. Total miles covered 764.7 at an average speed of 47mph with 55.9mpg.