Storming Past Stonehenge

Reason to Return from Somerset

John won the ebay auction for Dilbert and his wide panniers making a total purchase price of £1380. The Vario screen looked set to go for £72. John's number came off ebay so we chatted and arranged for me to deliver Dilbert to Portsmouth Harbour Station as previously suggested. This called for a Bank Holiday Monday dash back to Gosport ready to deliver on Tuesday.

Setting Off

I sat astride Shadowfax with his luggage full and my children buzzing around in excitement at my departure (kids!). We'd parked rear-down-hill on shale in front of the awning and Shadowfax pawed at the loose surface as we emerged up-hill onto tarmac; difficult to hold him back with his choke automatically on despite a warm if damp feeling evening. It was 4pm.

We left the camp site and raced into Wells for a well-rehearsed turn toward Shepton Mallet. At Shepton Mallet I stopped no less than 3-times to consult the map to drop down to the A303 early via Wincanton (twinned with Ankh Morpork, to my amusement and delight). Even then I lost the road and needed to turn back at Pylie off the A37 - and all I'd done is to follow the A371. Impossible bloody signage!

Once on the A303 we settled into a leisurely cruise for a moment or two before getting bored and opening up to a satisfying sports cruise matched by only the most energetic of drivers. I had a choice to drop through Salisbury or to carry on around to the A34 / M3, which seemed a good idea at the time and we burst past the A36 turn off in resolute mood. Then, without much indication of there being excessive traffic, the road came to a slow halt behind an endless line of cars, tractors, and many-wheeled gizmo's hogging the double white lines in vain hope of a view of the end of the queue.

Progress

A red beastly bike had been keeping pace with me along the dual carriageway and had passed me just before (I think) Chicklade where we were now held up, pinned in our lane by on-coming traffic. I sussed this to be like a Gosport / Farnham filter and know the Highway Code allows crossing the double white lines for passing tractors and cyclists and there were bound to be some of them somewhere in the line. Besides, the My Way code allows bikes to do almost anything as long as they are safe and not seen? So, filter I did - great fun, and red beastly (although shy at first) soon recognised the power of a large white bike looming fast in an off-side wing mirror.

A beastly red trike

By the Stonehenge stretch we were really struggling to find space to overtake but I was getting a little tired and had no patience to hang around the box cars and made room by going head-to-head with weaker-looking motors; only really pausing for lorries (respect). As we were pinned in at the confluence of the dual carriageway, red beastly rider bloke pulled alongside and asked, "is it always like this?" I didn't know, but thinking back I should have - it was an old commute route.

Growing Fatigue

Once clear the stretch and back onto the dual carriageway we got racing - erm, making good progress again but by the A34 I really could have done with a stop. The thing is, I was in the travel zone. To stop would loose more time and the journey had been delayed enough already. I pushed on with loving stares reserved for parking lay-bys. I had to resist - think of stopping on a warm lay-by in a gentle evening breeze listening to the tick of a cooling engine accompanied by midges and mozzies buzzing around their fly-mates, each with boots full of cow crud; a stench of dead badger and lorry-driver piss assaulting the olfactory organs, and the ubiquitous vision of a used prophylactic where I had chosen to put my foot down. It kept me going, oddly enough.

Poor homeless bastards; this one dropped where he stood while trying to hitch to a better life in London

By the time I was in range of home the skies were darkening and rain was beginning to spit down on the shield. Once on the drive I dove in for a cuppa before working out how to get Dilbert prepared for his delivery the next day. My back was fair aching from the ride (definitely looking as handlebar risers) and general fatigue made me lazy.

It was a break I needed; and a break you need yourself now.