Day three: Stromness is a long way from Somerset

I'm pretty tired right now. I've seen some amazing sights today, riding in the Scottish Highlands. I've had literal goose bumps twice from the awesomeness of it all. 722 miles ridden since I filled up in Bath on Saturday evening. The last 200 have had it ask, mountains, desolate valleys, fertile valleys. Rain. Mist. Rain. Fog. Wind. A golden patch of sunlight high on a hillside in the great Glenn. The smell of bracken and pine.

And now I'm camped in an impossibly ancient isle.

Wonderful.

Day two: from Abergavenny to Ardlui

I astonished myself by achieving consciousness at my normal time, 6am. Astonished that is because of the very long day in the garage, the excitement of the journey, troubled sleep, and after a late night in the golf club bar. Oh dear, that wasnt the plan...

6:30am in Abergavenny, Sunday July 17th 2016

 I couldn't stomach the thought of breakfast so decided I'd hit the road after a shower. So at 7:36am, tent and clothes stored again, I was off with my trip meter showing only 50 miles since filling up near the Bath exit of the M4. I'd treated ruby to Shell Formula Nitro+ It's her favourite beverage, so now you know.

Surprisingly early in Abergavenny

I'd decided to ride over to Hereford and then follow the A49 all the way up to Liverpool, then the A6 all the way to Carlisle.

That plan worked until Shrewsbury when the road was closed for some reason and I found myself diverted towards Telford. Very annoying because it was on one of those dual carriageways with no exits for miles. Still the splendour of the countryside, in and out of Wales in these border areas made up for the way I was feeling. Ugh - grotty to say the least.

And yet Ruby was just purring away like a lion cub (very big kitten). That diversion also gave me cause to reconsider my route. I'm using two paper maps this trip and running my fingers over them seems to help me get ideas as I go. A cafe stop at The Lazy Trout made the world seem a calmer place, but for some amazingly obnoxious old men at another table. They looked to be in their 60s and were extolling the virtues of driving whilst drunk. One was boasting about the cuts on his arms from where he fell out of his car drunk the previous night. A very dangerous pair of idiots. Let's give the young a break when thinking about driving ascends road sense.

I'd wanted to ride over the Runcorn Mersey bridge for years so that's what I did. It lead me into a maze of bypasses and post-indusrial chaos in Widness and St Helens so I decided I would go by the M6 until just past Preston.

hen I referred to the A6 firm Garstang wher Ruby got another draft of formula shell with 243 miles showing on the trip.

Unfortunately I had to get back on the motorway at Lancaster because the road had been freshly "surface dressed". That means the road is sprayed with tar and covered in piles of stone shrapnel.

I was also feeling so grim I pulled into a service station the M6 to get some sleep. I just lay on a grassy bank next to the car park and closed my eyes. An hour had passed by the time I opened then again

Feeling much better for it, it reinforced my spirits still further with a pot of traditional English tea and a cake.  I then I returned to the A6 for lovely Kendall and the run up to the top of Shap Fell.

Carlisle is an impressive proper city. I am glad I stated on it all the way through to the A7 .

Right in the centre of Carlisle next to the railway station

I'd thought about camping near Carlisle but by note my head was clear and Ruby was on her element so I just kept going north on the A7 until Longtown near the Scottish border. 

Hooray for Bonnie Scotland!

I was thinking I  might as well camp just south of Glasgow, ready for a big day on windy Scottish roads tomorrow. But then I thought, maybe I could get to Hellensborough. It was about 6pm and I wanted to be camped for 8pm. It's a long wad from the border to Glasgow. So I cut across to Gretna and got on the A74. Fast progress meant more replanning. This sort of shilly shallying went on for the next hour and I was over the Erskine Bridge. The Clyde and The Mersey in one afternoon. How cool is that?

Finally I stopped at a farm campsite at the northern end of Loch Lomand, near a village caked Ardlui. 475 miles on the trip, making 425 mainly A-road miles today. Fantastic. 

And more tomorrow as I see how far north I can go.

Day one: A mechanical spruce up and Going North(ish)

I've been wanting to do a really big trip for ages. It's hard for me to get time between September and June. I've built up quite a bit of leave. So the time is right! I'm heading as far north as I can feasibly go. I plan to avoid motor ways for the most part, for maximum exposure to the joy of summer biking. I have six days. Crazy to go so far when nearly all those days will be taken traveling there and back. Except they are what I have and traveling by motorcycle is holiday for me.

Ruby has been running well when warm but not starting with much enthusiasm. And occasionally coughing. I'd bought some carb inlet rubbers a while ago knowing that the originals were marginal. So I decided to change them before I set off. Close inspection shows they are perished but I could not see cracks all the way through. Better without cracks though so a pleasing job to have done.

Perished carb inlet rubbers

 And the valves were due to be checked.

And if I was doing a big tour and fiddling with the valves, I thought I  might as well fit the blue cams again.