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I met Pete online in 2002 I think, when I bought my Transalp 650. I had joined AdvRider at the time, and he just sent me a message on there to invite me to DualSport UK. At the time, he also had a Transalp 650 and was still living in Wales. It was a new thing to me, bike forums, and turns out I quite liked the small intimate group on a forum like that compared to the vastness of AdvRider or even Horizons Unlimited. It's the closest thing to a motorcycle club clubhouse there is online. I literally had started riding a few weeks before joining that forum I think, and started posting my first ride reports literally figuring out how to go on a motorcycle. I was happy to be amongst @modrover, @YamaHead, @Sir Fallsalot, @boboneleg, @Renegade, @Catteeclan, @yen_powell, @MooN, and even @Tym and @Buckster who gave me so much shit I considered leaving plenty of times. With some of those people a relationship grew to frequent communications outside of the forum. I did my first longer ride on a bike to meet @XTreme and Alie, now recently moved to southern Spain and in search of a place to live, before they settled on the house they've been in until now. Then a second meet up in their current house a couple of years later, in which he took a picture of me trying to kickstart his XT350, that picture haunted me to this day at every opportunity DSUK turned to Maximumbikes, then somehow I grew apart and the forum also disappeared and turned to a facebook thing, I think. Years later, I was very happy to get a second private message, again through AdvRider , as an invitation to join this current forum. My life had by then changed, as did I, and I talked a lot with Pete, he and his wife again becoming good friends, this forum has since then provided a needed internet home and I've used it to vent a lot. He loved that I posted my Morocco ride reports on here and I loved doing those too. He supported me during a few moments when he felt I was about to leave, keeping most of his opinions off the forum to try and avoid exits, because he loved to provide people with this space for them to gather around and didn't want anyone to leave on account of him. This forum is not going to be the same without him, and I doubt it'll survive without him, he pulled it forward with sheer enthusiasm. His over the top self confidence and absence of fear of ridicule were his favourite tools for the job, and you can't help but appreciate that. He and his wife are friends, real world friends, and I'm desolated she lost him in such a quick and surprising way.14 points
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I had went to bed early, and did set an alarm clock for the first time in weeks, to 06:30. That gave me time to enjoy waking up lazily in bed, procrastinating getting up while enjoying my own company. Breakfast was the only poor one I had this trip, that went nicely with the theme of this visit to Fes, croissants were stale and worthy of one single bite, orange juice hadn't seen an orange since an industrial factory somewhere once processed them, and coffee tasted like Nescafe. In Morocco there's no excuse for non fresh orange juice and shit coffee, but it made sense as that hotel didn't even offer a breakfast free stay, they had to push people to eat it I was ready to go a little after 7, but as I looked around the streets seemed really wet and it was going to be dark for a while after leaving, so grudgingly put my plastic rain pants and jacket on. By 07:25, I was ready to go: Put navigation on heading to Ain Dorij, and rode off, google maps took me out via tiny streets that seemed more complicated than needed, but the low traffic showed me a less seen side of Fes. It was interesting. Getting out of town and rain starts to steadily fall, at 08:15 I had had my only really challenging moment on the road and stopped to enjoy the sunrise a little, on a particularly muddy and poorly surfaced bit of road tilting to the right, I was forced to brake a little and basically slid off the road, I spotted the gravel bit outside the tarmac and simply pointed to that and rode it for a while. I am most impressed at the Mitas E07 + Dakar, they're sound tires even if the manufacturer warns that they have poor performance in rain and cold. 08:15: Rain properly starts to fall shortly later, my phone is now safe in my jacket and I stop for a moment's rest after spotting shelter. Someone takes my picture as for whatever reason I was enjoying it quite a bit. The above was at 08:55, I then put the phone back in my jacket pocket safe from the weather, and rode all the way to Tangier with no need for it. Navigation was easy and although I was riding on less than main roads I knew I had to go pass Ouezzane and then Chefchaouen, it proved easy. Rain didn't stop for the rest of the morning, averaging from hard to very hard and very windy at the same time. I got stopped at a checkpoint and after the initial small talk the officer told me I had been spotted at 95kmh on a 60, I got off the bike with the helmet open, got my right glove off and introduced myself, told him I would be more respectful from now on, but that I was intended on catching the Ferry and wanted to not miss it, all while putting my biggest possible good guy big smile attitude. Then he asked me for my papers while looking at the back of the bike, and asked where I was from as clearly I didn't have a French or German plate, upon the answer of "Portugaise" he enthusiastically shook my hand and after becoming friends sent me on my way with a big smile and a "ride safe" farewell. Portugal is a good nationality to be in Morocco, our national football team shares the same colours, and we both like beating the French and Spaniards. From there it was very smooth to Tangier, if plenty of wet. The last miles before Tangier were dry and windy, which allowed the overalls to dry on the outside. I had money with me so stopped to top up the bike at a Shell station, rode into Tangier feeling like a road worn adventurer, and quickly got lost in lunchtime traffic Stopped at a cafe with outside tables on a common street and ordered a sandwich. While it took forever to arrive I took the overalls off and made myself comfortable. Turns out my overall pants aren't really waterproof anymore, my jeans were wet on the outside all over the waterproof stitches, and my chest and upper back was fully wet too. Good stuff! The bike looked proper and had just proven to be a trusty friend, a true work beast or a war horse: It was good to ride to the port without the blasted rain suit, hang around for a little getting in line for the bike to be x-rayed, it all went easily as if hipotetically crossing between any European countries. The crossing was a little choppy, the storms seemed to have angered the Mediterranean and the boat rocked heavily the whole trip. At first it was funny like so, look at the water level in the horizon: But after a while people started to get a little tired of it, I felt like having a piss but sat firmly in my seat at the risk of falling over when walking or throwing up if standing, two guys started praying to Allah, and a few people had hands on their faces like trying to prevent eyes from popping out. We made it ok though, lack of paperwork on the boat was a bonus, I don't envy people crossing the other way and having to write stuff down, I would succumb to that for sure! Got out of the boat in my due time, and pushed the bike along with all the line of cars that got off the boat before I did. Tarifa looked stormy, so I put the rain stuff back on, the time at Tangier and on the boat had dried my clothes so I felt comfy and fresh. It was past 16:00 by the time I rode out of Tarifa, I had looked at hotels around there and also the weather forecasts, it was rain for the next few days, so feeling fresh after the ride from Fes I decided to go home for the night, Waze sent me via Badajoz which wouldn't have been my preferred route, but as it was raining through Sevilla (or was it Huelva already? I don't know...) I was lazy and followed it's guidance. Storms were littered all around, with orange warnings for heavy rain so I figured there must be a reason for the longer route. Right before entering Portugal I stopped for a snack after riding all the way from Tarifa in heavy rains. 20km into the trip a water barrier descended upon me with such violence that water pushed into my overalls with ease through my neck and wrists. This stop made sense, and the tiny jamon con queso bocadillho provided me with a little comfort from the belly outwards. The beer is 0% alcohol, too. The snack and fuel stop was at 20:09, I made it home at 22:54 and the bike looked pretty much like I did except prettier, just as wet. That was an epic day riding, around 300/320km in Morocco's backroads and around 700km in Europe with port crossing and a choppy ride in the middle of it, I felt like it was a proper day to end a proper trip, and was comforted by a hot shower in my own house, that I grew to love from Maria. Heated up some of Sofia's shepherds pie and opened a bottle of red wine. I was feeling energized when arriving home, despite the long day, but as soon as food and wine hit my stomach and I settled from the excitement of riding through rain storms, I started feeling tired. That night I fell asleep moments after laying down, and the rain lashed the outside of my bedroom walls through the night. On this trip I travelled with Maria and Sofia, and have to thank you all for providing an audience, the taking pictures everywhere provided with a distraction to some of the very intense feelings I had. I got through it and the extreme darkness I feared didn't appear, only sorrow and the memory of loving times did. I hardly ever felt alone on this trip. It was a nice one, there will be more. Thank you for all the nice comments.14 points
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Relatively speaking I hardly knew Pete at all, I think we both happened to be on some god-awful FB group and he commented on a photo I’d posted up. Can’t remember what the photo was or exactly what he said but I’ll bet it was something unflattering………..and I’m guessing it also made me laugh. We discovered we were living fairly close and so we arranged to meet up after a few interchanges on the phone. I’ll never forget waiting for him to turn up at a cafe/bar in Barranda and as I sat there waiting I wondered what he’d be like. Fuck me, he was just as I imagined and it didn’t disappoint. He had the worst fitting pair of jeans I’d seen in a long time, a jacket that was way to big for him and a pair of boots that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a building site. What a scruffy fucker and as soon as he opened his gob out came the sing-song accent and I liked him instantly. We sat, we chatted and generally took the piss out of each other. He particularly like my black and white sportsbike boots. Off we went for a ride and we explored all kinds of abandoned shit. He took me down roads that were totally unsuited to my Kawasaki Z750 and he didn’t give a fuck. I laughed like a twat as I bounced along trying not to smash my balls into the tank; all the while he glided along on his gay Honda. It was his fault the zipper broke on my jacket and also his fault that the warning like came on. I think he liked the idea that he could will things to go wrong. We met up a few times over the course of a couple of years and it never failed to be entertaining. He thought his “street Spanish” was so good………I thought how funny it sounded as he never tried to hide his strong Welsh accent. He always referred to me as a Cockney Wanker and I didn’t mind that at all. He called me a cunt to my face and I knew we were kindred spirits because it just made me laugh out aloud. A few weeks ago he asked what I was doing at the weekend and I think he was hinting about meeting up. I couldn’t make it but sitting here now I regret not trying harder to take the time to go over and see him. I feel guilty and it makes me very sad. It feels like I let him down. If he’s watching me type this he’ll be thinking what a soft southern shite I am because it’s just brought a tear to my eye. So there you go, he came into my life out of the blue and very unexpectedly. He was a force of nature and certainly unique. He disappeared without warning and far too soon. I hope he knew I considered him to be a friend. A daft Welsh twat yes, but a friend nonetheless.13 points
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No not that 180 but it's been 180 days since i last rode a bike so today I needed to put that right. @Slowlycatchymonkey said the weather was going to be fab but it bloody wasn't when I left home at 11.30 am , i couldn't see in front of my face and it didn't get any better for a while.............. Anyway, perhaps her forecast was right because as I got nearer to her manor the sun started to poke it's head through the fog. By time I got to Chew Valley lake it was lovely............ and the various birdies were enjoying it as well................... I rode up over the Mendip hills and down through the old rode into Wells where it was starting to get positively balmy. From there I rode on to Shepton Mallet where I stopped to have a gander at the old prison, I have actually been in there about 38 years ago but not as a guest of her majesty you understand............ From there I took the Frome road but stpped at Doulting to have a sandwich and a coffee from my flask . While I was there I got a phone call from my mate Big Tone and we agreed to meet up for a coffee at Farrington Farm. I stopped to say hello to this lot on the way in ............. and then we sat in a strange sort of hobbit house for our coffee, Tone is one big hobbit at 6' 4'' tall From there it was a short 18 miles back home . It was great to be out riding again and I may get to repeat the exercise again on Saturday13 points
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I am sure this will be classed as gay but I don’t really care. I wanted to say something about Pete. It's funny but even though we never met I have come to look on him as a friend who I spoke to most days. Please you that knew him much longer and better than me do the same, I and I am sure others would like to read it. I liked his manner and the way he would call me out for being a cunt when I was, straight talking honest friends are rare and should be valued. Sometimes you need to look at yourself and what you are doing. He ran this website well and showed a tolerance and the same friendship to some character’s with pretty extreme views not just because of what they could offer to the place. Also because he saw value in them and their views. I liked that, regularly talking to people I would not in most walks of life is a good and valuable learning experience. That environment Pete created with his forceful personality. If you can get by In this sometimes harsh forum it makes you a stronger person in everyday normal life, I liked that too. Interesting place run by an Interesting Guy. I liked his consistent hatred of most things Chinese and Indian unless he was buying them, his quick fire consistent POS posts made me laugh. His refusal to see any value in the same unless of course it was something he bought. Bloody Negatron but Funny Guy. Also I think sometimes we forget of the time and effort and finance he put into this place, because he believed in it and it was his creation. To our benefit of course. Oh and the last thing that I liked was talking to him was often like taking a trip back the the 1970’s with his views and some outlooks on life, my formative years that I look back on with fondness for all the flaws of the time. Good Guy Hopefully we can continue in this forum and stop it going to hell in a hand basket, which it may very well do without him. Pete a friend I’m going to miss. The self proclaimed Rugged Individualist. Cheers Shad Man12 points
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In 2002 I was in a pretty low place. I'd had an accident the year before in which I lost my leg and now I was sitting at home after more surgery just moping around. I decided to get a PC and see if there was anything on the internet to brighten things up a bit. I came across a motorcycle forum that looked a good laugh and started to get to know some of the characters, @Buckster, @Renegade @YamaHead @MooN @Catteeclan @Pedro @Tym @Specs @Sir Fallsalot @yen_powell and many more (my apologies to anyone I've forgotten). They were an eclcectic bunch with all sorts of views but most of all no one took themselves too seriously . The guy who ran it @XTreme was my kind of man as @Saul says above, a straight talker but bloody funny at the same time. I can't tell you how much it lifted my spirits and it was my 'go to' forum. When Pete started this forum up I was so excited to catch up with old friends and carry on with the banter and meet (virtually) lots of new guys and gals as well. No other forum I've been on has ever matched any of Pete's creations, he led from the front and was always trying to keep things chugging along . Good luck today Pete an wherever you end up I'm certain you'll be having a laugh.12 points
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This is the last of this kind of forum, Pete had a unique gift to make forums like these and put a lot of effort into driving them forward, proven by their decline once he hands them off to other people. Let’s hold this one together for him until the plug gets pulled and not let it go to hell in a hand cart.12 points
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Decided to sod the front garden off for today and do my Annual Pilgrimage to Strata Florida Abbey instead. Most of you have seen these places before but if Pete can keep repeating himself them so can i LOL I set off a little late it was 10:30 by the time i was on my way the weather was overcast and cool, i had a nice slow road ride until i hit the road from Ystradfellte to Heol y Senny i always seem to get carried away on that road and it brought me to my first lane of the day where i ended up fixing the gate as it was off its hinges the dopey fucker who fitted it put the bottom hinge upside-down so all the weight is on the top hinge a rough fix it should go in the bodge section but it works fine don't know how long for though. While i was here i found one of those Geocache things it had a £1 coin in there a pack of fag papers and some weed so i nicked the quid and threw the weed i didn't have a pen to sign the register LOL I stopped to open a gate further on and when i turned around the bike was on the floor it had rolled off the stand and ended up breaking the rivet pin on the gear lever so this is what i had been riding with all day it was ok and it didn't make any difference to shifting and i saved the bits before they got lost there's been some tree maintenance on the next lane this was all enclosed, certainly was easier to ride not ducking under low branches Further up it's still overgrown The track goes down to the right in this photo and the easiest way to ride it is straight out into that fecking gate almost pushed my spine out my arsehole when i hit my head on it From here i headed over the firing ranges to Tirabad and through the Crychan Forest onto Cynghordy and this lane which is very wet and mucky though the winter months a lot easier to ride in the dry From here i was onto the Llyn Brianne road another one i seem to speed up on, no photos as the riding was fast and flowing and i didn't want to stop, the top end of Llyn Brianne brings you to the start of Strata Florida in the background is the road to Tregaron another great road When i got back to the bike i spotted a flat fox poor fecker Onto the baptism and there's plenty of water for it the river crossings were straight forward enough it was the puddles that would catch you out when i rode through two of them i knew they were deep because the bike went quiet as i rode though At the furthest point from home here just past Llyn Teifi and onto Claerwen Res Top end of Claerwen Res this kind of track is where the XR excels it is so nice riding it along here. Looking over the dam wall i'm heading for the track on the right of the river But there's another river to cross first i played it safe and swept around to the right straight through almost had me in last time A bit further along after Bobs step A long road ride from here to Talybont on Usk where i headed home over to Trefil and across to Merthyr Talybont Res i'm riding the other way just turned the bike around to take the photo same on the Pontsticill res photo Pontsticill res From here it was over my mountain and home, it was a ride I've needed for a while spent most of it on the pegs because my arse was sore. It was a 172 mile loop. I'm in the middle of changing the oil and filter now ready for the next ride.12 points
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As we are all coming from different directions we met at a Greene King pub near Portsmouth Port on Sunday evening. There was a lot excitement, roast dinners and chat. We board seamlessly at 23.00, exchange cabin numbers in case of emergency (no mobile reception) and get straight into our cabins, we dock at 6.30am french time (5.30am uk time), my alarm goes off at 4.30am and I instantly think - who’s stupid idea was this South West Caen (Ouistreham) Port obviously not in 7hrs 33 mins as it was an overnight ferry. Off the ferry and five mins to a cafe right next to the port for a quick croissant, a chat about the route, riding in France and to allow the ferry traffic to dissipate. Glad I had my ipad on hand to show the priorite a driote signage as only one person was familiar with it and they appeared often on our ‘no-motorway’ cross country route! It’s grey, rainy, not the most fun for riding and no matter how hard I try the pace is a bit too slow to be fun but it takes folk time to warm up to riding on the other side of the road when you’re not familiar with it and I’m kind of glad I’m not dealing with any kamikaze riders. Quirky little house over three floors, surrounded by grape vines, as you’d expect in the Loire Valley. We arrive in Sancerre far too late to tour the vineyard which is a bit of a shame but after so little sleep on the ferry everyone is exhausted. The day has stretched out far beyond all comprehension and with a supermarket stop to pick up some steaks we only make it to the house after 7pm. Another friend joins us at this point ready to party and finds us all in zombie mode I may have avoided taking everyone into Paris but the cross country route was not without a price to pay!12 points
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Some fine wine, hot food, good sleep and by the next morning most were raring to ride over the border to the Swiss part of Lake Genèva for a bit of lunch and snap a pic with Mont Blanc in the background. Of course it’s end of the ski season so a lot is shut and lunch turned into a vending machine affair Whilst enjoying the lake our ‘on the spectrum’ friend (there’s always at least one in every group isn’t there ) whacked out three different water colour paintings of my mates house in under two hours! It was gorgeous out there Still a bit chilly from the mountain air we opted for quick showers, warm jackets and Kir Royals to warm the cockles. This was followed by far too much wine, we were still laughing about what we couldn’t remember the next morning12 points
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I left about 10.45 this morning to meet up with @Skippy in the Natural Park Area across the border in Almeria. First proper run the bike has had for a while, and you'll be disappointed to know there's no abandoned villages this time. Apparently the last village I visited with Skippy traumatised him because he thought he was back in the Blitz! Also traumatised his bike and his jacket cos they both fucked up as well. So here we go......all upbeat, touristy type of shit. These are taken on the way to the Natural Park......a BOTM prospect there I'd say! Roads were jammed as usual! Conditions were amazing......about 20c there and going up to 26 later on. I had to find some grim, devastated shit just to cheer me up though...... And then it was on towards the Natural Park.......there's always bikes here! I parked up by Skippy's Tracer....... Went into the picnic area.......Skippy was already there! Along with 3 groups of Spanish bikers! Didn't take them long for all of them to fuck off when I got there though! So we were there for a while and then it was back to the bikes! The plan was to take him into the Granada province and show him some of the area up around the reservoir at San Clemente. Cos this type of Spain is the polar opposite of where he lives! Eventually we got to the reservoir.......he was surprised to see snow on the peaks! That doesn't happen on the coast! Less and less water all the time! Skippy then followed me back to the town and set his GPS to take the "Adventure" route home! He hasn't logged back in yet.......so maybe he did end up in an Abandoned Village after all?12 points
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Had another good trip out with the Welsh Wizard, no devastation, or destruction, no broken bike, brand-new jacket is still fine, I think he was quite disappointed that nothing broke or fell off. Got back to the Brit enclave about 4.15pm……….had some daft Spanish twat pull across me but I live to ride another day.12 points
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This feels more like a miracle than a result. I have new hearing aids and I can fucking hear!!!!! Mr Slowly started talking to me as we went through some doors and usually if someone’s behind me I can’t hear what they’re saying, maybe a muffled noise but no actual words. I hadn’t realised I heard all of it when I replied and he said you just heard what I said even though you couldn’t see my face. He then suggested I connected them to my phone and put some music on. I love music. Going deaf and not being able to hear music has been most painful so I was reluctant to spoil such a win by highlighting a loss. Curiosity got the better of me and I played a tune with a prolonged percussion section that contains cymbals, hi-hat cowbells etc all mixed in. I haven’t heard a cymbal for about 10 years but I could hear it all. Every instrument was distinct, the clarity is fantastic, I cried for so long my head started to hurt. I can’t believe it. I know it’s temporary and eventually I’ll get deafer but right now I feel so happy I could cry. Oh look at that I am12 points
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Saturdays ride was going to be just a reccy ride for me on my own to check out a few dirt tracks i hadn't ridden before just outside the Llandovery area, i advertised the ride on the TRF forum to see if one or two fancied a day out and before i new it there was seven of us so ended up having to plot a route i already new. Start time was an early one for me 08:30 and we were meeting the seventh member on route. Plan was a road ride to Sennybridge area which was about 30 miles or an hour away on the roads we were taking. Two of the lads that turned up were on two strokes i didn't fancy the road work on those i had explained before hand how much there was they said they were ok with it so after introductions and a few rules of the ride explained off we went. Headed up the Cynon valley to Penderyn and then Ystradfellte and onto the devils elbow to meet up with the seventh member of our group Here's a stock a photo of the devils elbow A couple of miles after this we were onto the first of the trails and the road work was soon forgotten This is a bit of a tough one plenty of fails here i was lucky enough to see it all Jason here having a breather very new to this stuff he went home early on the last ride with me but he was i'll LOL Steve concentrating hard But not happy with just riding the bike he throws it to the ground and decides to do some weight training as well Even the two stroke boys found it a challenge Steve gets going again for the whole of 5 yards and he's down but still smiling Andrew on the mighty DRZ400 And Paul bringing up the rear finding it much easier on his CRF250L than his CRF450L Stopped for fuel in Sennybridge as the KTM two stroke needed fuel every 40 to 50 miles, done a few easy lanes after but no photos on those . The next eventful lane i know as Lampkin lane named after Dougie Lampkin an ex world trials champion due to how difficult it is but we were going down it so no problem. At the bottom is a small river crossing with a very slippery base Steve finds out just how slippery it is and Unfortunately Steve breaks his leg in the fall Luckily there was a mechanic there with a set of Allan keys to fix it So after the laughter stopped and with Steve rebuilt we took on the exit from the lane Almost got run over trying to video fucking two stroke riders don't give a shit LOL Next up was a steep climb, last time i done it it was wet today was easy compared to then everyone made it ok which was disappointing LOL From here there were a few more lanes with no photos taken, then into Llandovery for the two strokes to fuel up and a sandwich for ourselves Heading out west of Llandovery and done a few lanes I've not done before and onto another little stream which i forgot to mention was a little deeper than it looked LOL Stopped for a breather here Jason thoroughly enjoying himself testing the water resistance of his new boots There was a few more uneventful lanes with no photos before we were on the route home Stopped here on the roman road waiting for the others to catch up Steve still full of energy, when they did catch up the lad on the KTM two stroke had binned it twice behind us luckily only had some sore ribs After the roman road a few of us decided to check out the famous motel hill by going down it isn't any better than i remember this was taken just after Andrew had picked his bike up just doesn't show how steep it is No more photos from here, stopped to fill the two strokes up again in Sennybridge before the road ride home. I think everyone enjoyed themselves they were all still smiling and alive when i left them so that's a good sign12 points
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As the second week of my journey starts I have had a chance to look back at the first week. We were in the backcountry fast and without cell reception for most of the week. I have just now had a few days with the internet to touch base with the world. We have already seen some amazing places but one of my favourites was a place called Marble Canyon. We camped beside Turquoise lake in the middle of this beautiful canyon. We stayed there for a few days and just enjoyed this magical place. If you look real close in about the middle of the photo you can see our little red tent....12 points
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I think I had planned 1500km for this trip and door to door was 1508km according to the trip meter on the bike. it also showed 24h50 minutes riding time ( a little less in reality as I don't always switc the engine off when stopping for a pic or slapping the sat nav or whatever but call that "saddle time" and it'd be about right) fuel consomption was around 5,8L per 100 km. I left home on wednesday morning under clear skies and temps of around 8 to 10 deg c. The first stage was south to Clermont Ferrand on roads that I have ridden many times before. Crossing the Loire, westbound at Pouilly sur Loire I rode south on the left bank of the Loire for a while further before stopping for a coffee break. Budget restrictions being what they are ( and I'm something of a cheapskate at the best of times...) coffee from a flask was the order of the day and I just stopped at a convenient spot at the roadsiide by the river. Tigger in full touring Mode: despite the sunshine, I still had thermal liners in jacket and trousers at this point. I picked up the A75 southbound shortly after this at Monmarrault and as the weather rapidly deteriorated I hunkered down and concentrated on "making progress", switching from the "scenic" gps app to "Coyote" which warns of any speed cameras or dangers on the road as well as basic navigation. I really didn't need any avigational aids as I simply had to run south untill junction 37. This was a boring, if reasonable short interlude just concentrating on the road ahead and despite the rain keeping the speed needle around 140km/h ( the French Autoroutes are limited to 130 under normal circumstances, but in rain are limited to 110 and 140 on the tigers clocks gives a real speed of around 135, hence the usefulness of advance warning of any speed cameras, mobile or otherwise. ( it's not an infallible system, but for 50€ a year it only has to avoid 1 10 km/h exess speed fine to be viable. ) Once off the Autoroute, the road eastwards from Marvejols to Balsieges, before joining the Gorges du Tarn proper was superbe. The weather was still cold and damp, with 10/10ths cloud cover but only actually raing in brief showers. These showers are much easier to deal with wearing waterproof riding gear rather than having to stop and clamber in and out of rain gear every half hour. then the start of the Gorges du Tarn proper. riding down the Gorges was stunning, I can honestly say that I have never seen anything like it, there's certainly nothing on this scale in the Uk. Having the road to myself, mostly due to the bad weather was a bonus cos I imagine it would be heaving with bikes and camping cars during the summer. The main problem was actually staying on the road which winds seemingly endlessly downwards hanging onto the edge of the mountainside, on a balcony to go around a buttress, through a tunnel from time to time, squeezing through a gap between the cliff face and an outcrop, never straight or level or of equal width for more then a dozen yards and all this on a wet surface whilst gawking open mouthed at the incredible scenery. Wow! just... Wow. Once it was over and I was nearly at the bottom I realised I had taken no pics, just too gobsmaked by it all to function normally. It was about 18:30 when I rode into Millau from the west. I had provisionally booked a bed in a local "Gite d'Etape" ( bit like a youth Hostel) which, using my sleeping bag and sorting myself out food wise, would only cost me 15€ ( remember what I said about being tight fisted?) It was raining steadily now and when I stopped at a supermarket to grab a salad and sandwich for my supper, I phoned ahead to tell him I was about 15 minutes away. I mentioned I was just getting some food and he said " you can't eat here." I new that they weren't doing food cas I was the only guest, but I had previously said that I would grab a sarnie on the way in. He now decided that he wasn't happy with me eating a sandwich in my room either! Bearing in mind it was now pissing down I told him he could fuck off and hung up. ooopsss... Google to the rescue ( much as I hate to admit it the smartphoe is a very useful tool in this sort of situation, it took me about 3 minutes to find the nearest hotel mercure / Ibis ( 800m away) and book a room for the night with free undercover secure parking for the bikeand breakfast included for 80€ ( tight fisted up to a point...) I already had food for the evening and the welcome and service at the hotel were excelent and I mad good use of the facilities which were far superior than I would have found in a gite d'etape. The view from the hotel room window It was too late to go and look at the viaduct / suspenders bridge and as I had planned a short easy run the next morning I decided to leave it till then.12 points
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A couple of years ago. Not the finest photo but one of my favourites, cos I was so happy, dorky looking but happy, like top tier happy, felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz running through the flower fields in the sunshine except on a motorbike, dont think Ill ever beat that. Just me and one other guy and not another soul about.12 points
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From your emperor and TOTY for the second year in a row, a feat never before achieved. I already had overtures from countless fit bitches this morning as a result, now I am planning the celebrations.12 points
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After a bit of searching on Google Maps and Google Earth I found an old abandoned country house that I'd never visited. It wasn't too far away either, which was great because it was bloody cold. The building itself was part house and part cave.......so no telling how many rooms were actually built into the hillside. The main construction was in pretty good order, but all access points had been secured. Though I was able to get some shots through the broken windows. And after checking the house out I found another construction behind it.....and more caves! First off......a short vid! Now onto the house.......Bit of a rough track to get to it as well! There'll be some beak cleaning going on tomorrow for sure! As you can see, it's in pretty decent order! A few shots through broken windows! It's not the same when you can't get in......cos you don't get the buzz of walking into the unknown! Then it was round the side and onto the hill that it was built into! And you can see the building that was behind it...... ......so it was clamber down the bank to access it! Where you could see the cave built into the hillside! Once again, all secured! Then back onto the bike and away! As you can see, there's no van there! And no riding buddies to hold my hand either! It's as real as it gets! You Casuals could learn a lot from this you know!12 points
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No.....not the bike! Obviously I have no idea how to do shit like that. I'm talking about the reservoirs, because we've had years of very little rain. And there's now a serious drought situation. Now I'm not one who normally looks for more rain, but every year the price of straw for the horses has been going up. We used to pay around €400 for a year's worth......but last it was €1200 and we had to have it brought in from Albacete. Which is about 150 miles away. So an increase in rainfall and the filling of the reservoirs is critical.....not just here, but throughout Spain. So off I went to check the current situation. Luckily, the weather was great......around 20c! So it was perfect conditions! The approached into Castril.......and the wall of the Dam. This is The Style! I was amazed when I saw the levels in Castril because when I came here last Summer it was very low indeed. This is probably the highest I've seen it in 5 years! It's nowhere near it's highest, but the water line has gone up a lot. Two car loads of a Spanish family then turned up......three generations of them. So I ended up having to take a load of group photos of them. They weren't from Andalucia because they were speaking Spanish in a grammatically correct way rather than slurring words and leaving out letters in words. Lovely people......couple of hot girls in their 20's with them. I wanted to get a photo with those two, but I couldn't very well tell the rest of the family to get out of the way! Then it was on to San Clemente.......the levels there had risen a bit but nothing like the scale it had in Castril. Most of the land you see here was underwater when I came here in 2005...... Had to get the obligatory shot on the bridge.....obviously destined to be BOTM for April. Bike ran great as usual.......these rural roads are the perfect place for it. And it actually made me think......"Why am I considering selling it?" Well there we are! I got out and did something......and in doing so, I made a positive contribution to the forum! Some of you lot should try it sometime!11 points
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6 of us from Fowey went up to Devon today to see the National Hillclimb Association first event of the year. We stopped for breakfast near Poundstock. They thought us old fuckers must be dodgy as we had to pay before they would serve us any food. I personally was flattered that they thought I could do a runner. . It was very nice though and they warmed up after awhile When they realised we were behaving. Trip Stats It was an interesting meet with several interesting bike’s although most seemed to be modified crossers. There was one combination so I guess that won its class. Hartland Point was vey pretty with Lundy Island out on the horizon. Some pretty big balls in terms of pace. Mental buggers. Some interesting stuff in the car park, well to me anyway. Also our little band, my other mate wouldn’t take his Ventura into the field Don’t Blaine him it probably weighed over 300kegs We stopped in Bude for a cuppa on the way home. Had a chance to look at my mates V4 Ventura on the way home. Detuned V-Max motor. Very big bike but beautifully put together. Bloody good day out with the old codgers.11 points
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The sun was shining and the cold wind from the last few days had gone, so I decided that a little bimble was in order. I topped the tank at our local supermarket and headed up to Coursan. Then across to the Narbonne northern bypass and peeled off north towards Ginestas. The traffic was pretty light, so it was easy going. A guy on a T100 Bonneville caught up with me just before Saint- Marcel - sur- Aude. We tried having a conversation at a set of lights, but engine noise and language barrier put paid to that! He turned off shortly after anyway. I carried on North and eventually crossed the Argeliers - Trebes road. This is where the ride starts getting a bit more interesting, as the road was then heading into the Corbieres hills. After a bit, I turned off this road to head towards the medieval town of Minerve. This road follows the hillside on one side of the valley of the river Cesse, so it twists and turns around rocky outcrops. French drivers have the mindset that nothing should be coming the other way on blind bends, so extra care is needed to not meet one of them on your side of the road when coming around these bends. I stopped just before the town to get some photos. The town is perched on a rocky point where two rivers meet and have carved two valleys/canyons through the rocky landscape. I rode through the town and headed up to the carpark that overlooks it. There's not much of a view of the town from there, so I decided to carry on up the single track road into the hills for a bit. There didn't seem to be too much more up in that direction, but there were some nice views towards the Pyrénées. It was a bit hazy, so the snow on the peaks was barely visible. I headed back down to the town and set sail for home. I stopped once more to take some pictures of a village, sitting between a low cliff and the river, which has no water in it at the moment. I took a slightly different route back. Going through Argeliers and Capestang, before peeling off towards the south again, through Montels and Nissan- les-Enserune and back to home. Not a huge ride, probably around 100-110km, but nice to get out on the bike for a while.11 points
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I often wonder what goes on in my, admittedly very spoilt, Jack Russell crosses head. Everyone of his toys has a gimped right front leg, non of the others are touched but he always attacks and takes the stuffing out of the right front. The only exception is his walrus where he has gimped the right front tusk. ???11 points
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Got out this morning on Miss USA , I was looking forward to see how she would run after deleting the side stand switch. I rode up the A46 towards Stroud and gave it soome beans when it was clear, smooth acceleration all the way up to 80mph so all good there. Later I took it down the rough Fosseway section with the whoops and again it was fine, no coughing, bamging or cutting out. On reflection I think that switch had been going bad for over a year but I was mis-diagnosing it as a carb problem, anyway all good now My destination at Stroud was Capels Mill, a fascinating place and well worth a visit.11 points
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04th December, Sunday Wake up at my own pace after a night well slept. This traveling all day does provide for good sleep, and I can definitely feel that compared to when at home. I am also in love with the feeling of packing stuff to the bike, which takes 5 seconds with BMW's Vario cases, then have something to eat and some hot beverage, and then ride off like you're a pro. Makes me feel like a movie star The plan is to ride back east for a bit all the way to Four El Hism on the R102, then turn the bike North and use that canyon to climb over the mountains over to Argan territory, stop at a small town that sells some Argan based products, and then go in the direction of Marrakech past the most Star Wars sounding city name ever, Taroudant, and the Tizi N'Test mountain pass, all good stuff to look forward to on the start of the journey north, I certainly wouldn't be reaching Marrakech's chaos today, though, and was unsure where to stop. Ahead of me, I knew I had some of the best mountain roads over the following three days. Morning cold and saying hello to donkeys when stopping to put on my warm gloves. Reach the palm trees of Tamarnt and head north on a gorge road, the R107 starts down on the desert, enters into the mountains via a gorge, climbs on the end of it and goes to Tafraout: Arriving in Tafraout at almost 14:00, I shop around to buy a little bit of pure Argan oil, and have some amazing chicken for lunch And at 15:00 get back on the road north, heading to Taroudant! This was to be an amazing bit of the trip, Argan trees grow very slowly so most of the ones I see over these mountains are really old, it's a great experience. Over near the other side of that valley there is Taroudant, it was now about 17:30 so I was going to get there at around sunset time. Traveling here took forever, the roads are amazing and worthy of more time, the distances aren't even that great but I kept stopping to look at trees and pick a few argan seeds to take home. Temperature was climbing as I approached the valley in front too, which felt great after the morning's cold. Beyond the valley, you get the first glimpse of the Atlas too, it's always an impressive landmark to approach. Taroudant is a walled city, like a smaller less chaotic Marrakech. It's got a cool vibe to it, I stopped once for tea in the middle of the day and liked how it felt, back then it was quite a hot day though, and I was happy to sprint for the mountains, today it felt warm as I arrived which was good, the next day I knew I was going to be cold at 2000 meters. Being a walled city, it's got a few doors around it, but makes navigation hard, I searched on google maps for a hotel and found somewhere on the outskirts, it was now getting dark and I felt tired, so went for it, what happened next was a bit surreal. I showed up at the place and it was a riad sort of thing with a walled in garden like what is normal on the outskirts of town, it looked alright but had disco music blaring. I park the bike inside the closed gates, and there's a weird ambience going on. Walk into reception and the guy tells me they had a 700 dirham room for me, I laugh at him and tell him they've got some at 500 in booking, and he tells me to sit down and talk. Now, this dude sits down next to me and very quietly, and gaily, tells me to consider a special price of 400 dirhams with breakfast included, and that I should let him show me the room. It doesn't sound good, I get a weird feeling again and tell him no deal, and I prepare to leave, he then insists and tells me that for 400 dirhams I get the room, breakfast, dinner, and that he would really be happy if I were with him so he could show the room to me, and doing that he simply lays his hand gently on my leg. I then realize what sort of place that is, why I had a weird feeling when saluting the guys sitting on the garden, how weird and out of place the Ibiza type music sounded, and what really came with that room, so quite quickly told him I'd stay nearer to the city center, and left. I then find another place inside the city walls, it's pricier but seems really very nice and less chance of sex with other men. After getting a little lost I did find the location, and was delighted to ride a little bit of a weird access street lodged between the city walls and the hotel entrance itself. This hotel, the Moulin de Taroudant, (can't say Taroudant without picturing Jedis and light sabers!) was an old water mill now refurbished by a french guy, they had nice comfy beds, rooms with no offers of sex, and a very relaxing restaurant where I had a pretty gourmet fish skewer and aubergine pure, it was good. After a nice shower to wash the road off me, I was delighted to have a glass of Moroccan white wine outside, and then eat by the fireplace, where I met a nice older couple of Scots, and staid late drinking red wine with them. Charlie and his kind wife (with a very weird name that I can't for the life of me remember) were great company. I slept well, having had a bottle and a half of pretty average red wine I felt ready for bed. The next day? Mountain roads surely await, and adventure11 points
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28th November, Monday, I wake up in absolute silence feeling what you feel when you´re warm in bed and it's clearly cold outside and it's been a quiet sleep, however, I mustn't lay in bed too late as there's a tasty breakfast awaiting and my plan for today's ride is to go on mountains, over more than 2000 meters through broken roads and challenging terrain, I've done that before but in summertime the days are a lot longer and the risk of being in the mountains after sunset isn't being really really cold. Also, particularly exciting and always in my head was trying out a pass that I did previously intended on doing but never did because of rains and whatever. Being alone gave me a freedom of choice that comes with not having someone precious holding on to you, and also a lot higher offroad capability from not carrying a passenger. Firstly, packed everything onto the bike and went for breakfast. I like to have the bike all ready to go before breakfast, just putting on the helmet and tightening the jacket without the fuss of luggage feels a lot more relaxed when you do go. Now, I drink wine frequently at home, and you would think that quitting that alcohol intake would make me lose weight when on the road here, but what empty calories I no longer ingest here are amply replaced and more with breakfast calories and sugar, Moroccan breakfast pancakes are a weakness that I indulge in, and when it's really cold in the morning and you're setting off just one hour after sunrise having a good warm breakfast in you is very enticing. So, msmen and eggs and orange juice and coffee: Starting up I usually don't warm up my bike, but after a cold night outside and the oil at 05 or 06 degrees, I do: From my hotel making way to Boumia and the mountains, if you want to check on google maps you go from Boumia to Imilchil via the tiniest numbered roads available, this is my stuff! The bikes rides really well in altitude, the speeds are low because it's really twisty and the surface is challenging, plus the people here are ultra friendly. When there's no effort being made to translate road signs, you are on the right kind of roads I came up to this school transport van, which are frequently the most modern and better vehicles in rural Morocco, in the mountains they usually have double wheels in the back and are driven quite competently over a variety of challenging terrains, I stopped to let it cross this oued because I couldn't ride as slowly as it did. All the kids inside were waving back. As I was waiting for the van to cross the water, I was approached by a young kid wanting to take a picture of me, after I said yes and struck a pose I offered to take a picture of himself on my bike using his phone, and he was delighted, this in turn brought in two of his friends and we spent a few moments there. That was very cool, kids are quick to come up to you and ask for stuff like candy or a dirham, but once you stop and engage them offering a sit on your bike they suddenly are out of their confort zone and instead become curious and treat you with hospitality, such as their elders treat travelers. It's a good thing to experience, they still asked me for a sweet but I only had a tiny piece of cake wrapped in paper from the breakfast, they promptly split it three ways which ended up being barely nothing for each of them, and gave the biggest part to the girl. That makes you appreciate things. Riding on: Again, once upon a time all this was tarmac: I stop for a few work calls, my phone re-entering an area with data coverage that it was monday and I had a few emails arriving. The fact that I was parked in the below location while everyone that I spoke to in Spain and Portugal pictured me in an office made me feel very cool and special. Gusts of dry dust over a mountain pass beat a desk everyday! While that was happening, Morocco was going on around me: I reach Imilchil at 14:00, and stop for hot mint tea, Imilchil is a small town that feels epic. You get there are are bombarded with smells from grilled meats, coal smoke from bbq wafts in the air, there's exposed animals hanging from the butchers, dust blows, it's high in the mountains so it feels like adventure, pure adventure! Also people will salute you in a respectful way to then leave you about your business, it's one of my favourite places ever to stop for tea while making you feel like Indiana Jones. From Imilchil I go South, and at Agoudal consider what gorge to take down into the plains, Todra Gorge is very scenic with a very easy road, the colours of the sandy rocks is gold and it's an amazing experience at the end of the day under sunset lights. However, I went via the Dades Gorge. The R704 is one of Morocco's great roads, in my opinion, it's in the map in yellow and has a speed limit of 80kmh for the most part. This is very Morocco as you'll see, it's a very dangerous road if you're caught on a storm as the drops are fierce more so if you are driving a truck as it's a narrow road, or it used to be. They are making it wider and tarmac, they're working from each end and at first I'm disappointed to find this: But then, all of a sudden, the new safe and wide road ends and you're back to the old mountain pass, that's a good thing because to drive at illegal speeds here means to ride properly: My iPhone's camera doesn't translate the depth of the surrounding views: Again, I strike a pose, it felt silly but made me feel accompanied This R704 is amazing, I might have to go back next year because this is going to end and wide safe tarmac just doesn't have the same appeal. And just like that, it's over and returns to a normal Gorge road, with concrete oued crossings and village kids playing after school The first time I was in Morocco, in 2014 on the 1150GS, I remember coming this way on the oposite side and being turned back because the rains had caused mudslides to block the road, it was much narrower and more dangerous back then, but the views remain impressive: The long shadow reminds me I'm about to run out of sunlight and go for my planned hotel, but first still have to ride down into the riverside and into the gorge itself Although the sun was going down and already 17:30, some locations are just mandatory stops. Plus now it's all pretty much nice tarmac through easy marked locations so it's no longer a problem if night arrives. The below picture is one of Morocco's most publicized bits of road, and it was shot from the hotel I planed on staying, it was opening in 2016 when I stayed there with Maria and Rui, but I arrived a few days too late and they had closed for the season. Instead I rode another 5 or 10km and stayed somewhere else, arriving just as the sun drops bellow the mountains. Parked the bike in front, and still had time to have a hot shower and to sit outside with my laptop for a bit, before dark and coldness really arrived. The complimentary tea and cookies were good hospitality, I forgot I only had that tea at Imilchil since breakfast, riding kept me busy since morning. Dinner was a little bit of a missed hit on them, it was included in the room price as sometimes it is around these parts as you can't just pop out down the street for a restaurant. The hot pumpkin soup was amazing, the rest was a little weird but A for effort anyway. I liked it was hot and comforting, but not really memorable. Bedding was comforting, two layers of blankets over the sheets in a firm mattress, it felt cozy under heavy covers sheltered from a cold sharp night outside. I fell asleep late but comfortably, and slept soundly as one does after a busy day of dust and big views.11 points
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Soft pampered lap dog, no fierce family saving rat killer. He caught a bloody huge rat in the garden this morning and dispatched it with aplomb. Back to soft loving family pet now but proud of him for taking the rat out. It's the second time he has done it, in the summer we had a rat get in the house and sorted that one to. As my daughter calls him Odious Maximut, as she thought it appropriate he have a gladiatorial name11 points
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Bobo neleg ought to be driving a boat. Fred clearly thinks he's riding a goat. Skippy's parked up beside the spanish main Whilst Pete has chosen a dago train Tango,s bike is looking for water and Pedro's seems to be with one of my daughters A tractor, a horse and a Harley clearly designed to haul only one choice left, better call SAUL11 points
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Car part didn't arrive so took the bike for an MOT, the fitter where i take it is now doing the MOT inspections and the fucker is thorough cheeky git put a throwing front wheel loose spoke and slight play in the suspension linkage down as an advisory its been like that for the last 15 years i ain't about to fix it now went home the long way. The road from the MOT station is getting a bit rough i think This lane was recently cut back by some horsey types the lazy fuckers left all the clippings on the floor made it a little hard going After going through this I picked up a few of these i had to stop twice to clear the crap stuck in the bike and once to shift some branches i couldn't ride through Went to check on a lane where i reported a tree blocking the road a few months ago when i got there it was cleared But a little further on the recent winds had brought another tree down Easy enough to get around down through here But then another down had to cut through the trees to the right to get around it, from here it was home keep forgetting how nice the XR is to ride on the trails11 points
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As is evidenced by the threads being started here. A bunch of myopic coffin dodgers drifting into seasonal depression and needing to wallow in each other’s misery, wouldn’t be so bad if you rode your bikes but no, let’s see what your worst bike was, what did you hate but now love (for Six that one is easy, he hated getting fondled by the guy in the van outside the school gates but now he loves being the guy in the van). Tym is wandering around lamenting the joys of shooting people while dressing up as shark bait and littering the ocean with the contents of his Halloween collection, Pete is desperate for photos of dead animals and the real possibility of being gang raped by subterranean dago midgets, then we have the nursing home brigade always one step away from a flounce, if Clive gets anything good for Christmas then he will have a meltdown and delete himself. Then we have the couple of colonists who actually ride but still don’t understand that temperature is measured in Celsius (you cunts). I’m unrealistically hoping that Pedro can still save the day but he rides a BMW and it’s only a matter of time before he starts posting his Christmas menu of giblets and slug anuses. Even the bitches seem permanently on the rag these days, steeped in indecision and bad taste and the latest influx of new members look like the refugees from a gay leper colony. So as usual it will be down to me to show the outside world that there is at least one actual biker here and it isn’t just a collection of wannabes and hasbeens. You’re welcome.11 points
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Finally got around to writing this up, I have been way too busy with union stuff at work. A couple of weeks ago I went for a run out to the border with England while it is still open, if the Scottish Nazi Party get their way it will be closed at some point. I went down the A68 which would be a great motorcycling road if it wasn't for all the speed cameras but that isn't much of an issue for the tractor. As there have been complaints of not enough pictures I went out of my way to take some. So here we are just outside Edinburgh, with those lovely wind turbines. Who doesn't love a nice wind turbine? Obligatory picture of the beast. Some miles later I headed off the main road towards my first planned stop. Which was Scotts View, said to be Sir Walter Scotts favourite view in Scotland. It was an even better view this time as this beauty was there. I continued along the lanes and was going to take in one of the Abbeys in the area but it was closed still so I headed to the Wallace statue that looks over the Jedburgh Valley, it was a bit of a walk though the woods to get there, luckily I wasn't raped by trolls. They live under trees like this. Here is the man himself. and his view of the lands he won back for Scotland before he made a twat of himself and suffered a brutal end at the hands of the English. I didn't go down the hill as there were strange noises and I am a lazy fucker. I headed back to the bike, it was at this point I realised I should have asked more questions of the person I spoke with earlier who said I might see "raptors" near the Wallace statue, I looked and looked and did not see any hawks in the area at all. However on the path back through the woods I met this bastard. Luckily a couple of English fatties walked up at this point so as my reptilian friend and his family took to eating this feast that were too wobbly to get away I took a swift walk to the bike and left. I headed back to the A68 and did not stop until I got the border. Where I turned around and availed myself of a cup of tea and a cheese burger and a cigar before heading back. I even got picture of some porn for Pete, these are English sheep.11 points