Independence Day – a close encounter with Scotland

Jallani

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The summer of 2014 – the UK is gripped by the Scottish referendum offering me another excuse for a motorcycle adventure! This momentous occasion could lead to a historic separation of Scotland from the UK – I felt the urge to show my support to the ‘Better Together’ campaign by riding over the border to appeal to the Scottish people directly ahead of the vote scheduled for 18 September 2014 (this is the story spun to the misses to justify the trip anyway!).

This trip would be completed by me (Jallani Qureshi) on my trusty BMW R1200GS LC travelling with fellow rider Syed Ali (on his BMW F800GT) heading for a 2 week epic trip around the Highlands of Scotland camping (or did I mean campaigning) enroute. I have a habit of attracting touring Virgins and this time Syed had stepped-up. Aside from the first stop-over, we didn’t have a strict itinerary and kept the trip flexible by deciding our stop-off points each day.

I set a strict departure time of 7am in order to escape the Friday rush and cross the border into Scotland at a descent hour. Unfortunately, as with life (and bike trips) things didn’t go to plan. We decided to check the tyre pressures on the F800GT before setting-off to compensate for the additional weight (of the luggage not Syed!) but the Tesco forecourt compressor had other ideas. It almost completely flattened the tyre rather than inflate leaving us no option but to quickly dash back to my house and do some impromptu maintenance checks on the tyre within the comfort of my garage. Fast forward an hour and a half and we were ready to leave Crawley and start the adventure!

We realised day 1 was going to be dull as it involved blasting-up a series of long motorways following the spine of the UK counting down almost 600 dry miles. The ride up to Birmingham was uneventful until
we suddenly hit congestion. I cautiously filtered through the slow moving traffic acutely aware that I could be collecting a string of wing mirrors in my wake if not careful! Interestingly, I discovered a novel way of filtering a heavily loaded GS by standing on the pegs and using my feet to steer. This not only gave me a better view ahead but also allowed me finer control over directional changes – I’m not quite sure what the car drivers must have thought! My speed increased rapidly and after clearing the traffic I noticed that I had lost Syed from my rear view mirror. I pulled off at the motorway services close to Nottingham hoping that my fellow rider would also pull-in and we could re-group. An hour later, I realised that Syed had either experienced a mishap (he has history!) or zipped straight through and not stopped. We played voicemail tennis for a short time before I realised that we would eventually meet-up further along the route so decided to set-off in chase but not before talking to a couple of mature gentlemen on fully loaded Harley Davidsons who had just come back from a 3 week trip around Europe with their wives.

Eventually, I caught Syed at Tebay Farm Shop services on the M6 about an hour away from the Scottish border. This was not your usual Moto24 or Welcome Break stop – it sold fresh farm produce and contained a lake with ducks! It was setup in 1972 by John and Barbara Dunning (local farmers) in partnership with local bakers. It was the first and is still the only family run motorway service station on the UK road network and became famous for its deep pitched roof reminiscent of mountain architecture, open log fires and real ale. We enjoyed the coffee, took some snaps of the ducks. Now refreshed, we were ready to make a break for the Border! Crossing over from England to Scotland was not the romantic affair that I had hoped as we seem to roll straight over the A74(M) and stumble into Scotland without any sign of a fanfare – what an anti-climax! On reflection, the preferred route would have been to travel through Gretna Green or a similar border town so we could stop. Unfortunately, we therefore missed the opportunity to snap a selfie alongside the Scotland/England border sign – bummer!
The first stop was with family in Aberdeen so we headed fast over the A74 and onto the A90 and made Aberdeen in good time. We had completed the 600 miles journey in around 8 hours and were relieved to jump-off the bikes and do the awkward ‘cowboy’ shuffle to our new temporary abode. After a couple of day’s enjoying family hospitality, we moved onto our next stop – the well-known John O’Groats (the north western most tip of the UK mainland).

While John O’Groats is often known as the ‘end of the road’, its history is in a Dutchman, Jan de Groot. Jan de Groot ran a ferry to Orkney and charged 2p a trip. The coin for this denomination became known as the ‘groat’. Over a period of time the name Jan de Groot subsequently changed to John O’Groats. Today John O’Groats is most well-known for its lovely coastal walks and being the start / finish point for countless charity fundraiser challenges.

The route to John O’Groats was fairly well sign-posted and despite a dull first few hours it turned into a spectacular experience as we reached the A99 costal road. We reached our destination just before dark and decided to experience the official ‘John O’Groats Campsite’ (reasonably priced at a mere £12 a night). Syed was not only a touring virgin but this was his first experience at camping having splashed out on an array of new gadgets and goodies before the trip. It soon became apparent to the amusement of me and others at the campsite that Mr Ali was struggling with pitching his tent. I decided to take the ‘tough love’ stance and let him work it out while I took a walk to the café for a hot beverage. Eventually, with a little assistance, we had two tents pitched along with two BMW bikes standing proud in the background. I tested out my camping stove and cooking set and made us a hot meal of Uncle Bens Rice. After watching the sunset, we retired for our first night under the stars.
We woke early the next morning eager to move-on and experience more of Scotland. Syed hadn’t realised that he needed to zip-up his sleeping bag up over his head so had a chilly and uncomfortable first camping experience. After Syed ‘de-frosted’, we packed our belongings and sat at the upmarket John O Groats café and enjoyed a hearty breakfast while watching countless cyclists either finish their challenges or pose for photos at the start of their trip south towards Lands-End. Before leaving, another fellow GS rider suggested we ride up to Dunnets Head, which he explained was at exactly 58 degrees north, geographically the most northly point on the UK mainland. We decided to take his suggestion and followed a selection of Dutch and German camper vans along some small windy country roads until we surfaced at the summit of Dunnit’s Head. Historically, it was a WWII radar station with the remains of the two stations still prevalent on the Head today.

Day 3 would be a stop-over at Durness – another recommended campsite found on the cliff tops above an award winning beach facing the North Pacific. Whales, seals and even the occasional Bottlenose Dolphin have been known to cruise by at various times (but nothing surfaced during our stay). We found a lovely corner plot on the cliff edge to pitch our tents overlooking the beach. With the sun shining, I had to remind myself that this was the harsh wilderness of the Scottish highlands and not the Costa del Sol. We cracked-open some drinks and sat back to soak in the scenery. I felt ‘deep in the zone’ with this moment being the defining memory of the trip for me. I woke with a spring the next morning to take a 5am jog along the sandy beach. I made some eggs on toast and enjoyed then on the cliff-edge while listening to some reflective upbeat music. We left the campsite mid-morning excited about our next destination – the idyllic Isle of Skye.
Using a Michelin driving map, I worked out that getting to Uig (Skye) would require us to cover over 230 miles in about 7 hours along single carriage roads. It wasn’t desirable to arrive after dark as it would prove difficult finding a suitable campsite for motorcycles and pitching our tent. We therefore needed to minimise our food stops and maintain a good hustle for the next few hours. The A837 was a sublime road taking us past superb scenery that made it difficult to comprehend that we were still within the UK. As bikers, we often travel thousands of miles across Europe and further afield in search of postcard views when we forget that Scotland does in fact have it all within just a day’s riding. Ullapool was the most logical stop for lunch and fuel being one of the bigger towns in the area. As we entered the town, Syed flagged me down and worriedly announced his tyre pressure warning light was flashing. The tyre wasn’t flat so we rode on in search of a car park with sufficient space so we could investigate. On closer inspection, the rear tyre of the F800 had picked-up a nasty great nail smack bang in the centre of the rubber – it was a slow puncture hinting that the nail may have been picked-up some time ago. While I was carrying an emergency puncture repair kit, I knew from experience that it may be better to leave the nail in and attempt a fix once we reached our destination. I was also carrying a can of ‘slime’ so we had a variety of options to try. We inflated the tyre back to pressure using my battery compressor and decided to push-on for Skye. Unfortunately, the tyre became worse after another hour of riding and we continued to inflate the tyre every 20 minutes for the remainder of the day. This pesky nail had taken away the enjoyment of this leg of the trip. We reached Skye in cover of darkness but still had another hour of riding before our ultimate stop-over in Uig. It was a rather anxious ride through dark country roads with the uneasiness that Syed’s tyre could completely fail at any moment and it wouldn’t be safe to stop along these dark narrow country lanes at night. We had no option but to stop twice in small thoroughfare villages to re-inflate the tyre before finally arriving at Uig feeling a little deflated ourselves. We were physically and emotionally exhausted – we found the UIG local campsite and stumbled straight onto the muddy field in pitch black to get setup. We used the bikes headlights to get the tents-up before jumping straight into our sleeping bags to recover from the day. I woke the next morning with an immediate urgency to fix this annoying puncture that threatened the rest of the trip. The tyre was now completely flat and I knew that if we couldn’t repair it here then the bike would need to be recovered to a motorcycle garage robbing us of another riding day. I set about carefully removing the 4 inch nail from the tyre and then plugging the hole with a rubber adhesive patch. The campsite seemed vacant the night before but with daylight I could clearly see we were surrounded by a mix of camper vans, cars and tents. It wouldn’t be courteous for me to fire-up the compressor until after 9am so we were forced to wait patiently before we could see if the patch had worked. Once our immediate neighbours were up, I inflated the tyre and it seemed to hold – hurrah! After payment to the campsite owner, we decided not to linger and jumped back on the bikes and continued to our next stop of Fort Williams. We hoped being back on the road would keep our spirits lifted after a testing ride the day before.

We followed the main loop road around Skye that would eventually lead to the ferry crossing at Armadale. Along the route, we stumbled across a lovely tea shop offering an assortment of truly delicious cakes and treats. The ferry from Armadale to Mallaig was short but added to the experience of being on holiday. This gave us an opportunity to talk to other bikers who often get ring-fenced together on ferry crossings. We got talking to a young Australian biker working in the UK who gave us an interesting explanation about the differences in No Claims Bonus in Aus compared to here. Apparently, NCB is accrued on the biker (not a particular bike) meaning that it can be re-used on all your motorcycle policies to save you cash. I liked the idea as this might encourage me to own several more bikes!
When the ferry arrived at Mallaig, the usual biker dash off the ferry ensued reminding me of a scene reminiscent of an Isle of Man TT ‘Mad Sunday’. With my fully loaded GS, I chased down a few of the bikes before pulling into a layby to wait for Syed who gingerly arrived a couple minutes later. We reached Fort Williams by early afternoon and picked-up signs for the Glen Nevis campsite. I had read a few reviews on this campsite before the trip and it was described as ‘incredible’, ‘beautiful’ and ‘first-class’ by previous guests. In addition to being one of the cleanest campsites I have stayed at, it also offered walking access to the Highland Estate and in particular the mighty Ben Nevis. That evening we decided that we would attempt to climb to the summit of Ben Nevis the next day and take a welcome break off the motorcycles. Ben Nevis is the highest mountain in the British Isles standing at 4408 ft. above sea level and unusual for a mountain in Scotland, it features the ruins of an observatory which was permanently staffed from 1883 until its closure in 1904. I was keen to reach the top and see the observatories for myself.

The next morning we unceremoniously left the bikes back at the campsite and walked to the foot of Ben Nevis ready for around 9 hours of trekking. It appeared that the British Army was also out that day with several platoons ready to scale the mountain in full combat gear and carrying military radio equipment. I wondered whether this was some form of pre-training activity in preparation for being sent to a combat zone somewhere like Afghanistan. I was wearing my hiking boots, combat trousers and my BMW motorcycle jacket, which transformed into a gillet allowing me to still use the hydration pack. Syed was wearing his Ralph polo t-shirt, jeans and Armani shades (yes really!). We started the climb with enthusiasm along with a few others at the same time. After about an hour and a half of walking I could see Syed was struggling and within three hours it was evident that perhaps this was a bit more of a challenge than he had anticipated. I could see he had less than half a bottle of water remaining and little food, which was worrying since we hadn’t reached half-way yet. Being a club cyclist, I was feeling fit and confident so wasn’t quite ready to give-up just yet. I therefore did the ‘gentlemanly’ thing and left Syed staggering behind me while I raced-off towards the summit in a blaze of glory. I reached the summit after 4.5 hours and felt a huge sense of achievement that I had reached the top of the highest peak in the UK. I could see a similar feeling of pleasure in those around me with many sitting listening to music reflecting quietly. After taking the obligatory photos and taking in the views, I raced back down to see if Syed was still alive. I found him about an hour away from the summit looking dehydrated and weak. We agreed that it wouldn’t be wise to continue given he would have to retrace his steps and we were low on food and water. We therefore both descended together ensuring we kept the mood light to avoid the uncomfortable thought that the only other way off the mountain was via a RAF Westland Sea King helicopter – a possibly scandalous use of mountain rescue services by two naïve Londoners!

Over 9 hours later, we reached the foot of Ben Nevis. Syed was still standing and treated me to a Lucozade Sport from the Gift shop. My legs were feeling sore now and we both limped back to the campsite. I could see Syed was in pain and he looked severely dehydrated so much that his hands had swollen-up (something we later realised was a common side effect of dehydration). We ate an early meal and went straight to bed to aid recovery. This was the last night before our long ride back to Crawley the next day so we needed to feel fresh in the morning. I hoped ‘banana hands’ would be fit to ride the next day!

The next morning was miserably wet and cold – our spirits quite low at this point. We packed away our soggy tents and left as soon as possible. It was a tough ride home and involved several impromptu stop-offs as our bodies were exhausted from the walk the day before. At a couple of the fuel stops a few drivers wanted to talk about the bikes and our trip – we were polite but not really in the mood for frivolous conversation. We reached home after a gruelling 8 hours of motorway riding – safe and sound.
There was no fanfare or welcome home party at my household – everyone was already asleep and all the lights were out. I dived straight into bed feeling dizzy and light-headed. I lay quietly thinking that I didn’t fancy another trip for a long while and furthermore didn’t want to touch my bike for at least 2 weeks!
After a delightful night’s snooze, I woke the next day with more energy and decided to leisurely unpack my bike and give it a wash. This is my usual post-ride ritual and a way of quietly reflecting on the journey before considering it closed to history. This trip stirred-up some mixed emotions with me asking myself 3 key questions:
Did I enjoy riding my BMW R1200GS LC fully laden? What did I make of Scotland? Would I do it again? I can gladly say yes to all three. The BMW R1200GS surpassed my expectations – I am still overwhelmed by how a bike this big, fully laden to the nines is so capable through the twisties and equally off road – it feels beyond physics given its dimensions. Scotland is an amazing country and should be the first tour any biker does before venturing away into Europe. Overall, this trip has left me with a renewed sense of confidence to continue travelling and exploring the world. Standing on the top of a mountain makes one modest; you see what tiny place you occupy in the world.

Post Referendum update: Thankfully, on 18 September 2014 the Scottish people voted to remain within the UK and rejected independence. I like to think that my trip perhaps tipped the scales by showing the Scottish people that those in the rest of the British Isles value Scotland as part of the United Kingdom. It would certainly be a loss to the biking fraternity if this ‘paradise of adventure’ ever became less accessible.
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:postpics

Jallani - nice write-up but where's the pics of the scenery and the tesco flat?
 
Can I upload pics straight to site? I could only see options to link to images with a URL?
 
You can either host pics yourself and use their URL or, if you're a site subscriber, you can upload them to UKGSer.
 
Thanks Greg - I am a UKGSer subscriber. Which part of site can I upload pics to?
 
Thanks Greg - I am a UKGSer subscriber. Which part of site can I upload pics to?

Jallani - you're not showing as a subscriber (under your name). Have you only just subscribed?

Edit - as if by magic, pictures have appeared!
 
Enjoyed that, nice narrative. your allowed back ;)
 
Researching a trip to Scotland later in the year an stumbled across this. Really enjoyed the write up Jallani. I did chuckle when picturing Syed decked out in his best threads, designer and a small bottle of water starting the walk up Ben Nevis

Thanks for sharing


Sent from my iPad using Tapatalk
 
Nice wee RR Jallani,the grin on your face is all anyone would need to see how much you enjoyed the trip

Thanks for sharing

Norrie
 


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