Done the sports, now the touring - Scotland Report

[Bendy]

Caution: Really Long Post.

We'd been planning on taking a trip to Scotland for some months now, but real life had kept getting in the way. What with co-ordinating peoples' time off, buying of houses, race weekends and other odds and sods, the original plan to go in May had slipped back to July.


Day One
**********
Packed up my bike and left Slough nice and early to head over to Reading and collect MarJay. The idea was to take a scenic route up to M & Stew's place, where we were to be kipping the night. As ever, things don't go as planned and we end up being ready to leave Reading at about 3pm due to a spectacular amount of faffing on Mark's part.

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So we finally set off and make our way up some reasonably nice country roads to Towcester where we stop for a break. Looking at the time, the original scenic plan is out the window so we decide to hack it up the M1 to Leicester and then hop across to Lincoln (the old Cadwell route) where we'll grab something to eat before doing the last little bit to M & Stew's.

While we're having a servicable meal at the Pride of Lincoln, Robby rings and decides he'll meet us there as he hasn't got as far as planned either. So we hang about until he shows up in his little gay car, extolling the virtues of his new GPS.

I've got a map of how to get to M & Stew's, but for a laugh we decide to follow Robby and whatever the electronic woman tells him to do. Well, she gets us very lost indeed - as the GPS was still set to bias towards the motorways it went an extremely long way round, taking us in ever decreasing circles (and off my printed map), down bumpy narrow roads until finally we reach our destination about 90 minutes later than we should have.

Shoot the breeze with M & Stew for a bit, admire the new extension and it's time to get some kip. Say our farewells as they leave for work at about 7.30 and there's no way we'll be up for that.


Day Two
***********

I'm up pretty early and rouse the boys at about 9 ish when the builders show up (and promptly leave again to get a towel rail or something). We've got to get all the way up to Aberdeen today, so need to be making a move - the bikes are packed up and I ask if everyone's got everything, before posting the backdoor key through the letterbox. Turns out we were missing one important item... the ignition key for the Triumph. Fortunately the builders return promptly and have their own keys. We're on our way, planning to get a few miles up the A1 before stopping at services for breakfast.

It starts to rain and is very cold as we hack up the road, and my reserve light comes on worryingly early - I'm not sure how far reserve will take me and the services are nowhere to be seen, so I slip into 'fuel conservation mode', namely chundering along trying not to accellerate or decelerate. We finally waft into the services, with me on fumes, and head for Little Chef.

One incredibly slow, overpriced and generally unsatisfying breakfast later, we're rolling again with the intention to rendezvous at the Angel of the North if we should get split up. It's damp and cold and miserable and my hands are freezing, we crack up an uneventful 100 miles or so and completely miss the turn off for the Angel, as it's half way down the slip road and obscured by a truck. Sod it, go for the next services.

The weather starts to perk up as we leave Newcastle and head on up the A1 to the Scottish border. It's quite a nice road, nothing amazing but the views out to sea are nice. The traffic's not moving all that fast so we're working our way through it with lots of overtakes. I see some blue flashing lights ahead and what looks like some police escorting a couple of lorries. We continue our way forward through the cars to catch up with a guy on a Ninja who's sitting behind a queue of NINE riot vans and a couple of squad cars (heading for the G8). They're driving along in a perfect line and each time they reach a bit of dual carrigeway they're all moving over to the right hand lane together! What are you gonna do, undertake eleven police vehicles?

After quite some miles, they make a co-ordinated donut stop at a small service station so we crack on to the border.

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When we reach the parking spot at the border, Ninja guy has stopped for a burger and we have a chat - he'd been stuck behind plod the whole way from Newcastle. So we're faffing about taking a few photos and having a break and standing around at the junction when we simultaneously hear sirens and Ninja bloke starting his bike... it's a race and he loses! All the vans go flying up the road with the full blues and twos just as he screams up to the junction and slams on the anchors. Unlucky!

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We hang around a bit more, with no desire to get stuck behind that lot again.

Off up the A1 again, heading for the Forth Road Bridge. Coming round the Edinburgh city bypass, you see some proper hills and start to feel like you're really in Scotland. A quick BK break at Queensferry, yet more fuel and we're over the bridge and heading up the last leg to Aberdeen.

The original idea was to kip on a mate's floor, but we've decided to sod that and find somewhere with beds so Robby's dispatched ahead of us to try and find a Travel Inn or similar. We're to meet in Portlethen, just outside Aberdeen.

The ride up is nice enough. To be honest, this road doesn't do much for me, I'm a bit too used to it to be stunned by the scenery and having had a crappy nights sleep beforehand, I'm getting really tired. So Portlethen is welcome and we make a stop to sort accommodation. A bit of WAP and a few phonecalls and Mark's found probably the only hotel room in Aberdeenshire - right in the centre of town. My bike throws it's one wobbler of the trip - the negative on the battery had shaken itself loose so the bike won't start - quickly rectified but a brief moment of 'oh shit' before we found the problem. I lead the way into Aberdeen and we hole up at the Holiday Inn, sweet-talking our way into a little gap beside the disabled parking bay.

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A spot of dinner, a welcome shower and I'm out like a light.


Day Three
*************

In an effort to avoid a Monday-style slog, we intend to get moving a bit quicker this morning and are on the road by 10am. The destination for the day is the Isle Of Skye, only 250 miles or so but it would be nice to have the time to take a few scenic detours on the east coast before hitting Loch Ness.

The first detour of the day is actually to a Maplin on the way out of Aberdeen, as I've forgotten one of the cables for my helmet camera. Robby keeps going, we'll meet up with him later. So having purchased a couple of cables that apparently should work, I come out of the shop to find Mark fiddling with his bike, proclaiming it to be 'pissing petrol everywhere'.

We get the tank off and find that some fuel fitting thingy that should have been replaced under a Triumph recall has broken and the fuel line now won't seal. Bollocks. A quick call to Korn (first person we thought of who'd be at his desk with the internet to hand) finds us a Triumph dealership in Aberdeen - Shirlaws. Mark calls up, there's some faffing about (I'm sure he'll elaborate) and after a while we're sat waiting for the breakdown guy to come and recover Mark's bike to the dealer, where they're confident they can fix the problem.

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Robby's done a u-turn and joined us by this point, so we bum about then follow the recovery truck through the city to Shirlaws. Spend an hour or so sitting on shiny bikes, I buy some much-needed glove liners and have a chat with the very nice salesman chap, and the Triumph has been fixed! Top marks to Shirlaws.

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So at about one-ish, we leave Aberdeen for the second time. Nice enough ride across the east side, stopping at Brodie for a steak sandwich that would have made G cry with joy, and cracking on to Inverness for fuel. Now the fun bit can really begin.

Loch Ness side is good but once we're clear of the loch it just gets better and better. We're talking huge sweeping corners you can take at silly speeds, scenery to die for and barely another soul on the road. No worrying about the plod, just pure point-and-go fun. I'm riding along grinning like an idiot inside my lid and wishing that the road would never end. Sometimes I think 'ooh I should stop for a photo' but I'm having too much fun.

We finally pull over at Eilean Donan castle and stand about enthusing about the last hundred miles for quite some time.

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Robby's already made it over to Skye (he doesn't do photo stops and has about three times the tank range) but can't find the B&B so heads back over to meet us in Kyle for fish and chips by the sea. Foolishly, I have a pie, forgetting they deep fry them up here. :S

Over the (now free) bridge and about ten miles up the road we turn down a little unclassified road right next to the sea and meander our way along looking for the big yellow sign with the bike on it. It's a cracking little B&B, for bikers only, with comfy beds and a hearty breakfast. Perfect. We hang out with the owner and a guy on a VFR 800 who's also staying, then hit the hay.


Day Four
************

We're up, breakfasted and ready to go - today is playing day. No luggage, no pressure to be anywhere, just a gorgeous sunny day to go and play on Skye's looney roads.

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We head for the north end of the island, up through Portree, along the single track road beside Loch Fada, up the big sweepers to Staffin (with quite a few photo stops) to get to the Quirang. This is a crazy little 7 in 1 single tracker that goes up and up and up, then over the top of the mountain and down the other side. It's narrow and it's gravelly and it's a challenge but we make it up to the top and park for some pictures.

From the top, you can see whether the road's clear or not, so we take the opportunity for some foolin' around. You see, we have radios. Robby makes several runs in his traction-controlled, anti-lock braked car, which sounded quite impressive echoing up the valley. Myself and Mark also make another run, albeit less spirited, to get some photos. Words fail me, pictures don't.

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We must have played around there for at least an hour, before heading over the top on this gravelly, slippy single tracker and down the hairpins on the other side into Uig. Then it's a blast along some very fast roads back to Portree. I can't think of a time down here I've had the throttle pinned in 6th on a country road, up there it's a fairly common occurrance. 8)

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Chinese food is the order of the day and we take a wander around the village, which hardly seems to have changed at all since I left ten years ago.

Another run, this time to the west of the island, out to Dunvegan (quite fun) and back down to Sligachan (unspeakably fun). The views are still stunning, the roads are amazing and there's a brilliant 'oh shit' corner that tightens way more than you think possible with a cliff drop. Nothing like the prospect of sliding off into oblivion to focus the mind. Another photo stop at Druim na Cloiche as the earlier mist has cleared, and we head down to Kyle for the novelty of being able to go back and forward over the bridge without paying.

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Robby's brought his jacket and lid so I hand over the keys to the CBR. I think he enjoyed it. LOL

We're starting to lose light so head back to the B&B to drop off the bikes, then wander a few miles to get dinner. After chicken stuffed with haggis in a whisky sauce, I'm so full I fall asleep as soon as I get back to bed.


Day Five
***********

Nobody wants to leave, but leave we must. Robby elects to do Skye to London in a one-er while Mark and I intend to be a little more measured and go over two days, having booked a room in Preston.

We say goodbye to our host and head off under threatening grey skies. The Kyle run is just as mad in reverse and is total fun, then we head south through Invergarry, Fort William and on to Glen Coe. The scenery down here is epic, the mist and clouds making it all rather erie. The signposted 'major roadworks' turn out to be two men and a small digger, and we're hauling ass across Rannoch Moor. There's quite a bit of traffic but the visibility is fantastic so overtaking is a doddle, passing ten cars at once is no problem. I'd love to come back here and do the run in the early hours when the roads are clear cos some of the corners were epic. We shoot past Wave and Mike's bagpiper standing in a layby being bugged by tourists and all too soon we're down onto Loch Lomond side. It's very twisty but also very busy, so nice enough but not amazing. Pretty much an end to the 'good bit'.

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For all our 'avoid motorways' intentions, it's become apparent through the trip that sometimes they're the only way to get somewhere to a deadline. So we're on the M8 through Glasgow (literally through Glasgow which is a bit weird for a motorway) and onto the A74 where we stop for fuel and lunch and see the news about the bombings in London. Back on the motorway (albeit a fairly scenic one) and all the big motorway information boards have 'Avoid London - Listen To Radio' on them. I get a major case of the hayfever snuffles and spend about 200 miles being pretty miserable sneezing inside my helmet and wanting to scratch my own face off.

Looking for junction 31A of the M6 we discover that it only exists Northbound, so faff about and finally get to the Travel Inn. To find out we're booked in the 'other' Travel Inn. A common occurrance, if the readily available photocopies of 'directions from Preston East to Preston North' are anything to go by. Finally get there, with me feeling like I want to die. I get straight into the shower and try to rid myself of whatever pollen-related itchyness is ruining my day. Some good food and we hit the sack.


Day Six
**********

A short one today, it's only about 250 miles back home so we lie in until about half ten, grab some fuel and head south. Take the cheap option of the free M6 instead of the toll one and filter to make up for it and head past Birmingham. Due to spectacularly poor signposting of the services (10 miles to services, but we're changing motorway in 8 miles kinda thing) my tripmeter is racking up the miles and I'm a little concerned at the lack of a reserve light as we pass it's usual lighting-up point of 130 miles. 140 miles. 150 miles. 160 miles. Finally hit the services on the M40 showing 167 miles and still no light! Clearly my usually fuel-hungry bike is quite efficient sitting at about 7000rpm and not having to do any real work.

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A final Burger King, one last tank of fuel and we're off home. Wave bye bye to Mark as he cuts off towards Reading and me towards Slough. Another fifty miles or so by myself and I roll into my garage, kill the engine and I will admit to you all right here that I actually gave my bike a hug. She's passed the big three-zero and slight battery niggle excepted, didn't miss a beat all trip.

1700 miles and it was bloody fantastic.

Biggups:
Mark and Robby for coming along.
M & Stoo for a bed.
Shirlaws of Aberdeen for fixing Mark's bike - www.shirlaws.com
Richard @ U55 B&B - great place to stay. - www.route-u55.co.uk

Lots more photos can be found at https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/thumbnails.php?album=57

[Robby]

Well I'm not going to write a long flashy bendesque post, so I'll just home in on the good bits.

First day was long, I went to work in the morning then got on the road by about 4. M25 followed by M1 is a thankless chunk of motorway. The evening bit was fun, with the GPS having a sense of humour and Bendy getting ever more agitated as it got dark with her only having a dark visor.

The second day was also long. We were on the road by about noon, and I drove out of the services where we had (shit) breakfast right onto the wrong stretch of motorway. 10 miles later and I'm back where I started, and get on the A1 northbound. I stop for ten minutes at the border and then again about 10 miles south of aberdeen. Good distance covered that day, but still pretty dull roads.

Third day it all started to get good. Woke up next to a tiny person in Aberdeen, and set out west after a good breakfast, most of which I spent staring at the only high grade chinese girl on the whole trip. 30 miles on and I get a phone call, marks bike is broke, turn around.
The roads back into Aberdeen were nice and empty though, with lots of fun to be had on the slimy roundabouts on the way in, cue horrified look on the face of a boy racer in a ford focus as the smartie fishtails everywhere.
By about 1 we're back on the road, I press on ahead, then backtrack a few miles for lunch. After we get past loch ness and into the west chunk of scotland it gets good. A cliff on my right, a loch on my left, and quite lot of single track road to blat down at silly speeds. After many miles of fun I end up on Skye, and find one of what seems to be very few petrol stations on that route with super unleaded.

Day four, this is the good one. I wake up in a bed on my own, with sheets and all that jazz, after a good nights sleep. Real breakfast then we head out.
The roads on skye are damn good, little traffic, lots of visibility for overtaking, and lots of corners. I press on ahead as usual to let the bikers brake for corners and that kind of thing. The corner that scared bendy caught me out a bit as well, the solution was more power and lots of hope.
The Quirang was cool. Video should surface soon, but for now I'll just advise you to look through bendys gallery, https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/thumbnails.php?album=57.
Another hundred odd miles of playing and some lunch, and then a little ride on bendy's CBR6, with marjay following in case I hurt myself. He didn't seem overly impressed by my riding style. The CBR was fun though, rather quick.

Day five, I come home, going west across the highlands to Perth. Lots of fun, very good roads. After 100 odd miles I realise I'm a little low on petrol, eventually find a petrol station in the most remote village ever, with one working diesel pump and one working unleaded. No super, tss. Another 100 odd miles to Perth with no more filling stations seen, so don't attempt that route without a full tank of fuel.
While I was paying I mentioned to the bloke I was headed for London. He told me it was being bombed, and I should listen to the radio. I carried on for another 80 odd miles unable to get a radio single on FM or AM, or a mobile phone signal. Slightly worrying those miles were, particularly with AM occasionally picking up a very faint signal and just hearing the words "bomb" and "london". I stopped for fuel near Gleneagles, and the police there were a touch jumpy.
Then just motorway, all the way home. M6 toll was fun. Big thumbs up for traffic police around Luton pulling over the arsehole towing a trailer at 75 in the fast lane in a BMW X5.

All in all, a good trip. Top marks for Bendy for organising stuff, to M and Stoo for putting us up for a night, to B&B guy for being cool and cheap, and to MarJay for not fucking up on the fun day.

Well that did end up being quite a long post.

[kat250]

some nice roads up here huh its great living up here and having this all year round. went up that road sat night with valver but got a bit late dark and wet and couldnt see a thing so turned back intending on going up 2morrow if it stays good good read to
____________________
in the famous word of jimmy pop "would you F*ck me for blow"
In the words of banditshigh "would you blow me to f*ck"

[MarJay]

It was the year-of-our-lord, two thousand and five.

For some time I had been contemplating an expedition northwards to the mysterious and fabled land of scots. Ne'er before had such a trip been undertaken by BCF kind, and so I resolved that preperation was essential. I had spent the week prior to the day of departure preparing my steed for any and all trials that may befall our team in our perilous jorney.

I had fitted some 'Crash Mushrooms' of R and G manufacture, a sports rack of Renntec design, and I had set about balancing the throttle bodies. On the morning of departure I purchased some waterproofs for the sum of ten pounds and fifteen shillings, and had my wayward locks trimmed to an acceptable military style.

My native guide arrived at my abode on her Yellow steed, and with a little more preparation we left the hamlet of Reading around three o'clock.

Having resolved to avoid all motorhighways, we had taken a route to Northampton via aylesbury which I had found most stimulating. We had taken the opportunity to test our Radio communications equipment (which worked well under 40mph).

Whence we arrived at northampton, my guide (Ms Bendy) informed me that we perhaps may not be making as good a progress as I might have liked. We resolved to risk the use of the M1 motorhighway, and we then took the A46 to Lincoln where we met the driver of our support vehicle, Robby.

After a hearty dinner, Robby led us on the way to our first billet for the evening, which was run by a fine lady and gentleman known as M and Stew.

Robbys Global Positioning Sattelite receiver had some sort of sense of humour about the route we should take, and so we did not arrive until well into the evening. After a stimulating and informative conversation we fell gratefully into bed to sleep, perchance to dream of what was to come.

The next morning I rose and dressed, packing the bike up with all of my gear. M and Stew had left for work, but they had left a door key with their builder. The builder had departed to collect some piece of equipment or other, and Ms Bendy had locked the house as per the instructions of Stew.

Damnation! If I hadn't gone and left my motorcycle key in the house!

I faffed around for a good ten seconds until I realised that the builders would be returning shortly. As I calmed down, they arrived and I retreived my key.

We departed for the A1 and decided that we should eat a hearty breakfast to set us up for the day. This was an experience as we had to pay through the nose for the slowest most innefective little chef meal ever. My bank would be writing to me to ask if I had used the same judgement in picking my investments as breakfast establishments.

We cracked onwards through Newcastle Upon Tyne, where we stopped in a Service area for fuel.

We carried on for a time where we all spectacularly managed to drive past all signposts for the very anticlimactic angel of the north.

Before reaching the scottish border we again stopped fof fuel. Ms Bendy was cursing and uttering the most obscene words in her native tongue.

"Fecking feckers!"

One of the kind gentlemen hanging around in the previous service area had kindly liberated her of her GPS unit. Arse.

I felt a little low at this point because of the rain, the diesel, the depressingness of Newcastle Upon Tyne, and the theft of the GPS unit.

My spirits lifted however as we approached the scottish border, especially as we had managed to be rid of a group of no less than nine police riot vans whom had so kindly been travelling at 65mph in the outside lane on the A1(M).

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We stopped for a few photographs to record the occasion, and engaged in a peculiar native ritual where the Englishman is humiliated in front of the scottish border milestone.

W got chatting to a young Englishman who was astride a green Kawasaki motorcycle, and he had told us that he was stuck behind the police vans from Newcastle to where they all turned off to have a pee. We discussed the toilet habits of the local bobby for a few moments more, as Ms Bend, Robby and I continued our photographic record of the journey.

Suddenly, without any hint or preview, the nine police vans came screaming along the A1(m) Sirens blaring. The man on the green kawasaki dropped the dohnut he was eating and sped to the edge of the layby. Seeing that he was doomed to spend eternity behind a police convoy, he gingerly pulled out onto the road. How we laughed!

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As we proceeded over the border, I began to notice that everywhere looked a lot like scotland. This may sound like an odd thing to say, but it definately was going for the 'less english, more scottish' look in this seasons roadside field fashion parade.

After managing to navigate through Edinburgh successfully and without incident, and passing through Dundee, we arrived at a small village called Portlethen. Robby had travelled ahead to arrange a hotel for us, but had drawn a blank. A quick WAP session and phone call had us booked into a travelodge in the centre of Aberdeen for the evening. After fixing a loose battery terminal on Bendy's bike, we continued onward to our billet. With cobbled streets being the order of the hour, we made some amusing quips about not having even reached Mongolia yet, and everywhere looking like scotland and we arrived at the travelodge.

They very kindly (read after a lot of persuasion) allowed us to park our bikes in the dead space that could not be used by a car, and we got changed, ate food and retired for the evening. I drew the short straw and had to share the double bed with Robby...

In the morning we loaded up the bikes and headed for Maplin Electronics in Aberdeen where Bendy needed to collect some piece of equipment or other for her camera.

I looked down at my bike and caught a strong whiff of petrol. I could not understand this as I had just filled my bike, yet I shouldn't be able to still smell the fuel.

I pushed my fingers under the edge of the tank and felt a greasy wetness on my fingertips. Oh no - one of the fuel fittings had come loose. I would soon have this fixed.

After I had removed the tank, I disconnected the fuel fittings and reconnected them. There was still a petrol leak. I disconnected the fittings again.

This was an item that the bike should have been recalled for, and I know that the previous owner had not had the work done.

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I called Korn who Bendy insisted would have the interweb in front of him and I asked him if he could find out if there was a triumph dealer in Aberdeen. His reply was simply 'Oh Dear'.

He gave me the name, address and phone number of Shirlaws in Aberdeen whom were a Ducati, Aprilia and Triumph dealership.

After a number or frantic phone calls we decided that the recall itself was not the issue and I just needed a new 'o' ring for my fuel connectors. I thought I would risk riding the bike to Shirlaws and then fix the problems with their stock 'o' rings.

When I tried to reconnect the fuel hoses for the third time, I heard a sickening snap.

I had broken the fragile fuel fitting that needed to be replaced for the recall.

I called Shirlaws back, who told me it would take a week to get the parts if they submitted the recall to Triumph. I explained that I was due to leave Aberdeen that day, and could they do it faster or perhaps bodge a repair. They took my bikes frame mumber and asked me to call them back later. I did so and they told me my bike had already had the work done according to the Triumph computer.

Arse.

They could not authorise the recall work on a bike that had already been recalled. They also told me that the recall replaces the plastic fuel connectors with anodised aluminium ones.

Mine were plastic.

I explained this to them, and they said that they had some fuel fittings for another bike there, but the lad who owned them had not been in for the work to be done, despite responding to the recall (which is when the parts are ordered).
They just needed authorisation from Triumph or for me to agree to buy the parts. Being stuck in a foreign land miles from home, I agreed to buy the parts and called my recovery firm to take me and the bike to Shirlaws.

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On arrival the gentleman there could not have been more helpful. He had called Triumph and argued my case. They had agreed to supply replacement parts and pay for the recall work to be done.

I handed over my key to an unkempt native whom responded with an utterance not dissimilar to the following:

"Aye, I'll have that done for ye double quick. Nae Bothar!"

About half an hour later, the first man returned to me and told me that the fuel fittings had been fixed, and indeed there was further recall work that had not been carried out. Namely the shock bolt needs turning around so it doesn't rub on the wiring loom. Again, one dealer or other down south had told Triumph porkies, and told them they had carried out the work. The man at Shirlaws was angry. He explained that it was a safety issue and that the dealer had claimed money for work which had not been done. Triumph will be dealing with the aforementioned dealer (whom was not named to me) very harshly indeed.

After a couple more minutes of watching Robby sit on a Triumph Speedmaster, the man handed back the key to me, exclaimed: "Thats you!" Which I took to mean "You're all done here" and I thanked him heartily for his efforts. We had lost merely half a day, and I had not been charged a penny for their superlative efforts.

Big thumbs up to Shirlaws who saved the expedition!!

We cracked on towards inverness on some relatively noteworthy roads for the journey so far. How wrong I was to be. These roads would not compare to what we would see past Inverness!

Near inverness we stopped at a small cafe where I had quite possibly the best steak sandwhich ever made, and perhaps a small coronary to go with it.

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Upon leaving I was accosted by a white haired old man who spoke English, but had obviously been out of the country for some time and the native culture had affected him. He exclaimed:
"Thats a hot pursuit ship you've got there... OH! and its a TRIUMPH TOO! How wonderful! I used to own a BSA Bantam 175 you know..."

I kinda tuned out but nodded and smiled for the next few minutes until I could scrabble for my earplugs and lid.

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We went through inverness and past loch ness where the ride morphed from "CHiPS set in Scotland" to "All Twisted and Pucked Up... Highlander style"

I even had the tune going through my head as we attacked the sweepers. I had my camcorder running at this point and was attempting to give a brief commentary on the ride, but I think that if the audio had come out on the tape it would have just been excited babbling about the view, the bends and the sweepers - and not least how well my bike was coping with them.

It was one of those rides where everything just clicked into place and I was grinning like a self abusing ape who had found his masters stash of viagra tablets!

I believe our average speed was somewhere in the region of 80mph but hopefully some of the footage will be uploaded soon so I can point and laugh at everyone who has not ridden that road.

Yes. it was that good!

We arrived all too soon at Elean Donan castle where we both raved about the view and the roads and generally just acted like a pair of hyperactive kids for the next ten minutes. We called Robby and headed off to meet in Kyle Of Lochalsh, or just plain Kyle. This is the town where the Skye bridge was to be found.

We ate a hearty fish and chip supper and proceeded over the bridge to our billet for the evening which was provided by a man whom himself was a biker. I thought this to be a stroke of genius as he would avoid all of the annoying american tourists who would ask questions like "Do y'all eat haggis every day?".

I fell gratefully into a very comfy bed and slept all night.

THe next morning I awoke, showered and breakfasted and we all got our stuff together for the 'fun' day on Skye. After a few more looney roads I found that Bendy was leading us inexorably toward something that was signposted 'The Quirang'.

This had been mentioned by some of the experts in the pre expedition preparation as one of the most hazardous roads in the north of Scotland, certainly impassable by motorcycle. (well, put it this way, Bendy showed us some photos from the skye tours website !)

Well, it was too late to back out now, and so after worryingly being stuck behind the largest container lorry you had ever seen, we proceeded up the Quirang road.

https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/albums/scotland2/normal_PICT0111.JPG

It was not as bad as I had feared, with the gravel providing the major obstacle rather than the steepness of the road, and actually a little rear end sidewaysness was sort of fun. We didn't really get faster than 30mph or so, but it was as exhilarating as the faster roads if only for the view and the gravel.

https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/albums/scotland2/normal_PICT0086.JPG

We then decided that we might have a little fun due to the photographic opportunities we had, so using the radios we made several runs up and down the mountain in order to get some fantastic snaps.

https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/albums/scotland2/normal_PICT0089.JPG

Looking at Bendys amazing photographs, I was not disappointed!

https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/albums/scotland2/normal_PICT0090.JPG I took a few of her, and of Robby and even took some video of Robby blasting up the Quirang with his Smart suspension complaining.

https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/albums/scotland2/normal_PICT0110.JPG

when we had completed the twisty and sheep ridden Quirang roads we headed to Portree along some more quick roads with beautiful views.

https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/albums/scotland2/normal_PICT0113.JPG

We had lunch in a nice Chinese restaurant whose claim to fame was that it had been hit by a bus no less than three times!

With no chinese girls to keep Robby amused we headed out on some more amazing roads for some more 80mph twisty action.

The weather taking a turn for the worse, we headed south, chasing a large but elusive patch of blue sky back towards the vicinity of the Skye bridge.

Again stoppin in a small car park, we decided we might make use of the radios and try to do some creative camerawork in some pre arranged video shots. Now, I have no idea how good a cameraman Robby is, so we shall see if that makes it into the video!

https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/albums/scotland2/normal_PICT0144.JPG

After Robby caught up with us, and we were greeted by a pair of ponies at the side of the road we cracked on back over the bridge to Kyle.

https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/albums/scotland2/normal_PICT0149.JPG

After some more amusing cinematographic offerings (which will hopefully make it into the video) Bendy decided that she might let Robby go for a spin on her (very downgeared) CBR6.

Robby looked apprehensive as he pulled on his bike gear and wheeled the CBR out from its parking space, so I suggested that I follow him to make sure that he was OK (having never ridden anything better than a SV650 on Tomahawk tyres).

I needn't have worried about his confidence... I did need to worry about his overtaking skills! I had surreptitiously switched on my tank cam to follow Robby and caught a little dodginess on video.

Having managed to keep up, and worried that he had travelled farther than Bendy might have imagined we headed at breakneck pace back to Kyle.

https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/albums/scotland2/normal_PICT0180.JPG

By this time it was pushing seven PM so we decided to head back to the B and B and then look for some food. My native guide assured me that she had never before sampled the delights of Haggis, and so whilst in a lovely restaurant called the Claymore, she sampled Chicken breast stuffed with haggis.

It was not as bad as I had feared, tasting merely like sausage meat. In some ways this was dissappointing, as it meant the locals were not all rock hard disgusting food eating superpeople.

It also meant it wasn't a trick played on tourists to get them to eat sheep stomach as Bendy had previously inferred!!

We returned to the B and B where I had an argument with an automated hotel booking service that went along the lines of:

Computer:"please say the town in which you would like to book a hotel room"

MarJay: "Preston"

Computer: "You have selected Leicester"

...


Computer: "Please say a surname under which you would like to make the booking..."

MarJay: "Johnson"

Computer: "You have selected Dobson"

MarJay: "GRRRRRRRRRRRRR"

Luckily I managed to convince them to book a twin room unfortunately it somehow ended up as a smoking room .

So after about twenty minutes of arguing with an unreal person we retired to sleep and to reflect on the days activities.

I arose and showered early knowing that my companions might be upset if I had delayed them as I had done previously in the expedition, and was ready very early. I did not want to leave Skye as I wanted to ride those roads all over again, but I knew there was a potential treat in store on the roads back down to Glasgow.

I was not dissapointed, We returned on some of the roads which we had raved about on the way in, and then headed towards Fort William, and then South towards Glasgow.

We went though Invergarry and Glen Coe which was an awesome sight. Now, as many of you know, I often complain about the over use of the word awesome, particularly by americans, but in this case I feel it is justified. I was awestruck by the beautiful vista that was layed before me.

https://www.evilbendy.co.uk/gallery/albums/scotland3/normal_PICT0008.JPG

When we had stopped a few times and taken a few photos, Bendy mentioned that there were major roadworks along this stretch of road. I needn't have worried, it wasn't like London! it was simply one set of temporary traffic lights and then we cracked on to some of the best roads on the trip.

By this point it was drizzling a little, and so I did not wish to use my camcorder, but you'll have to take my word for it!

Once we had reached Glasgow, we stopped for food and fuel and saw the BBC news. Four bombs had been detonated in London.

After a few calls to work colleagues, and a very distressed girlfriend (who, it turned out, had not been told what was going on outside her office and the Inland revenue was telling the office workers to stay away from the windows and move to the basement. They were not told they could leave at any time, and at 6pm an announcement went out saying "You may begin planning your route home" which was the last announcement. Of course having heard snatches of news such as "Explosions, Buses etc" She naturally feared it might have been a dirty bomb or chemical attack.)

we headed southwards for our motorway slog. We crossed the border without incident, and somehow the countryside looked a little bit more namby pamby. A little bit more girlie. A little bit less like it would nut you if you spilled its pint.

After a relatively scenic motorway route along the M74 north of the border, the A74 and then the M6, we arrived at the wrong travel inn in Preston.

Bendy was not happy. I think her words were something along the lines of "I am going to get VIOLENT in a minute!" She had told me that some sort of allergy had befallen her, and she was desperate for a shower to clear out whatever pollen had caused this.

We eventually arrived at the correct travel inn, and after a shower and a meal, we both went to bed. Neither of us slept well initially because of the horrid news of the day but once asleep we slept well.

The next day we slobbed about for a bit before leaving about half ten, when we cracked on down the M6 to the M42. Cramp was appearing in my right hand, and in my legs. I rode much of the way with my feet dangling off of the pegs, and I was finding it hard to relieve the tension in my shoulders, restricted as I was by my leathers.

After a long stint with no fuel we arrived in a services on the M 40.

We ate a hearty english Burger King, and then carried onwards towards home. I peeled off from formation riding with Bendy when I met the A34, where I decided that I might engage in some spirited 90mph filtering.

Bendy and I had discussed this subject earlier in the holiday and decided it was dangerous and foolish. Well, I was aching and I felt like a bit of a thrash after our police car and roadwork ridden motorway slog.

I have to admit I did have a good laugh in this last bit, and then on the A4074 towards reading. I arrived home bearly able to remove my luggage, but examined my trip meter and discovered that I had ridden 1600 miles in the last six days...

Impressive.

Thanks go to:

Bendy for agreeing to show me around Skye and the highlands

Robby, for only mentioning my similarity to a small child twice a day

M and Stoo for their excellent hospitality!

Wap on my phone for finding us a hotel room.

Shirlaws of Aberdeen for helping me in a kind and efficient manner, with no delays or hiccups, no complaints or even a bill! All the work was done free of charge due to the recall and I am extremely grateful to them. Well Done Shirlaws! www.shirlaws.com

and the B and B man for making our stay thoroughly pleasant and enjoyable, and for his ace breakfasts!

Downers to:

On Yer Triumph, for claiming my recall work was done when it wasn't...

I had a great time, and I'd gladly do it all again!
____________________
British beauty: Triumph Street Triple R; Loony stroker: KR1S; Track fun: GSXR750 L1; Commuter Missile: GSX-S1000F
Remember kids, bikes aren't like lego. You can't easily take a part from one bike and then fit it to another.

[Minky_monkey]

Great write up, and excellent photos. If only my RS would make it!

Then again....

Great to see the dealer sorted you out in double quick time!

[Luke_Retrofly]

Hi
Excellent write up, looks like you had great fun, im dead jealous that you had thouse goregus roads to yourself.

Yours and Mikes trip had deffo made me itching to go, hopefully i will next time (if there is a next time )

N1

Luke
____________________
Flounced - Long overdue
Fuck you bitch I'm in the top 10 list I can do the what the fuck I want!

[TOM M]

excellent right up, sounds like a brill trip
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Now owner of a 1200 Bandit

[Stew]