Having managed to convince the Boss that we didn’t need to go abroad for the week of our wedding anniversary, I calmly & quietly slipped the Bigtraillie meet into the conversation . . . . . and didn’t get a “No”, so a long weekend away was on.
Bike over packed as usual, I set orf sarf on a bimbling 320 miles route that would have me in Muker before dark fall. Small amount of precipitation on the northern side of Glenshee – normal whenever I head sarf, followed by dry roads and bright skies for the one-eventful trip into deepest, darkest Yorkshire.
Stopped in Kirkby Stephen’s Co-Op for supplies and spied the Inversnekiens GSA making a hole in the car parks tarmac. Vitals’ bought, I followed John up into the hills south east of Kirkby Stephen and onwards to Muker, where I was met by many familiar faces, uttering the usual verbal welcomes and abuse
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After a quiet night, Friday morning arrived with a small amount of wetness and a large amount of wind. The wetness left the scene at around 10.30hrs, as predicted by Tony, so them wot was willing suited up and followed Austin on an great wander around the Yorkshire dales. Cracking day out riding superb roads in ever brightening skies with many likeminded individuals. No photo’s – far too much enjoyment being had chucking the bike around bend after bend.
On our return to Usha Gap campsite, many more areas of grass had canvas caves on them, with many more familiar faces on view, along with several new folk making themselves at home at the Bigtraillie National meet.
After another quiet night where not much alcohol was consumed
, no loud music was played
and everyone was in there sleeping bags by 10pm
.
Saturday morning was blessed with no rain and much cloud free skies on view. I wandered around the village and took a few photo’s just after the sparrows started farting.
Many of these about the valley – Cow’us they’re known as
Several cranially challenged individuals had plotted a days dirty riding around the areas many B.O.A.Ts and U.C.Rs and I stupidly asked to join them. At least I wasn’t on the biggest bike to be venturing off the beaten track – that honour goes to Barftone Tony on his KTM 1090 Adventure.
The first bit of rough we rode onto I thought was Cam Road High, which I’d done several times in the past.
WRONGDodd Fell wormed its way up the hill in front of us. I’d heard tales and seen pictures from other big bike riders of their trepidous rides and subsequent drops whilst attempting to “do” this U.C.R, and I’d talked myself out of ever attempting it myself . . . but here I was, scurrying after several small trail bikes and an enduro machine over big bits of rock and ever deepening ruts!
Oh FECK.But after only 1 stall – 3rd gear isn’t ideal for ascending some serious (to me anyway) rocky sections, I made it up and over Dodd Fell, at the end of which I sat wondering what all the fuss was about! I didn’t take any photo’s cos I was, well, fecked.
Cam Road High hove into view a very short time later. The very handy riders that I was in the company of headed off at a fair rate of knots, with me following on at a speed that I’ve never done on that trail before.
Apologies to Marc – he’d wizzed past me on his KTM enduro before I could get my camera out.
Once convened at the Hawes end of the road, I elected to head into Hawes for a brew whilst the rest took off onto many more trails without me holding them up anymore.
Brew consumed and after a surprise meeting with an old inhabitant of the XRV forum, I headed south from Hawes, dodging many sweaty cyclists heading towards Oughtershaw valley. On the way down into the valley I spotted this sitting up on the hillside and feared the worst.
I always expect to find a fellow motorcyclist in the tender care of paramedics whenever an air ambulance is on scene, but this time it was one of those crazy cyclists that had failed to fully negotiate a bend. The rider appeared awake and was sitting up, being tended by the paramedics I’d seen walking away from the chopper, so I continued on down the hill, dodging more of the lycra brigade who’d managed to avoid dry stone walls jumping out in front of them.
Took some scenic pictures as I wandered around the roads . . .
. . . till I happened upon a B.O.A.T that I’d not seen or done before. It takes you up near Pen-Y ghent hill.
Did an old road near Settle next – one I’d done a few years ago – Langber Lane.
I then wandered north and west towards Kirkby Stephen on many, many miles of twisty and mostly empty roads that just made my face ache cos I was smiling Sooooo much.
One chip supper for me and several fresh litres of one-leaded for the bike later, I headed back towards Muker just as the shadows started to grow longer as I looked back towards Nateby and the vale beyond.
Yet another fantastic riding day in the Dales was followed by a very quiet and subdued gathering, where no singing or dancing or excessive swigging of ale was observed.
Gentle ride North on Sunday, which, apart from a myopic farmer in a sh1te encrusted land rover trying to wipe me out, was event free and all done on dry roads with bright sunshine leading me home.
Superb weekends riding in great company, on great roads and all under a luverly blue sky (once the rain clouds had sodded orf).
Steve T
