The off.
Left Chateau Thunder just after 8pm on the 6th of January 2010 to catch the ferry to Birkenhead, so many layers on I needed a hand to get my leg over the bike, this did not bode well for the rest of the trip as asking strangers at various stopping points " Would you mind helping me to get my leg over?" did not seem like a good idea!
Temperatures well below freezing, side roads like glass with compacted snow and ice but the main roads were clear enough thankfully although once you got off those things got interesting and just a little bit slippery. Riding through the docks to the terminal had the back end stepping out more than once.
Safely on board and layers peeled in my cabin I went for some light refreshment and a bite to eat.
Unfortunately I have since been informed that deep fried cauliflower and broccoli does not count as part of my five a day regime.
Got off the ferry in Birkenhead just before 7 am, the docks were glistening in the street lights and decided to take the long way round to Neil's place using the motorways rather than the direct route through the tunnel and Liverpool. Bloody glad I did, motorways for the most part gritted but still the odd patch of ice to make things interesting and tighten the sphincter.
As it was still pretty early I rode passed the road to Neill's off junction 23 and headed into a large Shell service station to grab a coffee, have a pee and ring Neill to announce my imminent arrival.
Bloody mistake that was, entrance was also an exit onto the roundabout and there is a slope up to the parking areas and pumps covered in comp0acted snow and ice. Large artic heading down said slope started sliding, meaning I had to cut across ruts at a leisurely pace, next thing I know the wheels have had enough and over goes the bike on its side with me under it.
No damage to the bike, no one hurt and plenty of help getting her back to the vertical. Added some go juice into the garage to do the payment thing and asked for the toilets to find they were out of order. Should have just gone direct to Neils after all.
Made it back down to the garage exit, sphincter tightening is not the word
, negotiated an icy roundabout back to the road I'd passed 30 minutes previously, sphincter tightening is not the word
and had a relatively gentle bimble on a gritted main road before turning on to a side road for the final ride to maison Hughes. Won't say it was bad, all I'll say is it was an experience.
Friday afternoon saw the arrival of Gert and Dave ready for the run down to Folkestone on Saturday where we to meet with Mike (who had just collected his “new” bike following the spontaneous combustion of his original 1200 GSA 10 days before), Andres and Richard.
9/1/2010
Snow was still falling but Saturday morning dawned bright and clear albeit still freezing, bidding the Hughes clan a fond farewell we headed off on to the M6 and the run to the coast. All went well until we hit the M20 just after dark and the snow came on with a vengeance, basically the road disappeared in a total white out and we covered 20 odd miles with the bikes sliding all over the place.
Arriving at Folkestone I got a call from Andres to say they had been pulled off the motorway further up and told it would not be advisable to continue. Luckily there was a Premier Inn at that junction so they could transfer their bookings, unfortunately being on a motorway there was no bar, a problem we did not have.
10/1/2010
Sunday morning saw us up early to unload Mikes bike from his brother in laws van. He’d picked it up from the dealers on Thursday and stayed up to 3am on the Friday morning changing it from it’s original vario luggage (previous owner had fitted it) back to the GSA luggage and packing the bike with icicles hanging from the roof!
Thing is until we unloaded the bike for the run down to the chunnel terminal he’d not had a chance to ride it so was starting the trip on brand new tyres, dedicated or what?
Off to the Chunnel, missed the 9.20am crossing so had to wait 30 minutes for the next one. Got a call from Andres to say he was on the 9.20 and would meet us in France, Richard had to head back to see Steptoe as he was having engine problems and would catch us up later.
Temperatures? Still below freezing and lots of ungritted roads.
My bike was displaying signs of the UK's use of salting on the motorways by displaying a rather natty coating on the exhausts.
Having met up with Andres at the French end of the tunnel we headed south in an attempt to get round Paris on a Sunday which was supposed to be relatively quiet. Plan was to use the ring road but at the last minute a certain member of the group decided it would be more interesting to show us the sites so taking the lead he took us right through the centre. What fun that was (well looking back on it it was) avoiding the Parisian drivers and trying to stay in site of the group.
Safely through we bedded down for the night at an Ibis south of the city.