Winter Adventure
Adventurer
We rode to Cornwall, stopped over the night a rode back via an ST owners West Bay meet. That was the plan as although cold it looked sunny and dry - mostly.
The journey was made difficult by racing the Sun while suffering sub-zero temperatures, a dodgy route plan that took me over the frozen wastelands north of Honnington over snow-iced country roads most quads might fear to ride, and a Police-inspired diversion that put 10,000 motorists into conflict on un-gritted roads and nearly dismounted me on a frozen bridge where 5mph was just not slow enough.
I was elated to make Cornwall, and although not travelling too deeply into it it made a personal milestone for me as so much of it remains unexplored by me. I stopped to take a photo - despite resisting earlier due to the temperatures - and felt a tremendous sense of adventure and achievement given the weather and the loose plan to actually ride for leisure for a change.
Once at Trev's (and safely negotiated up the still snow-bound farm track of a drive) I was astounded at his tenacity in setting up a small holding and planning to prove its business viability for 3-years before the planning permission for his dream sustainable 'log' home could be realised. I followed him through his evening routine of feeding the poultry (chickens, geese, and ducks), a handful of f'ing HUGE turkeys straight off a scene of Jurassic Park, and a pair of pigs destined for breakfast some time later in the year. It just tipped off my joy at bothering to ride over and catch up with Trev and at being back out in open land.
We ate well and drank wine to the smaller hours in the large static caravan that is Trev's family home before dropping into a fitful sleep with a full moon and stupid dog in my face. It wasn't great sleep - it never is when I'm travelling - but it was time well spent contemplating the potential to ride out on trips like this in the future.
The morning was frozen. We had a stunning breakfast of fresh laid eggs, good bacon, and black pudding before I bade my farewells wanting a good start to get to West Bat to meet any of the ST-Owners UK crew that might battle out into the Sunshine for a meet. Turning the bike around needed Trev to yank on Shadowfax's hand grips and get us off the sheet ice and snow on the narrow path. I then skied back to the road, which was nothing short of a mile of sheet ice!
It'd be wrong to claim it took all my skill to get back up toward Bude but it felt like it took all of my concentration. It even snowed to add some meaning to our haste. I didn't want to get snowed in - no telling how much work I'd miss.
Bends and double bends with treacherous glazed puddles slowed progress but there was a pressure to press on and press, we did. Gaining confidence in Shadowfax's abilities and deft balance in a slippery spot we suffered little in lost schedule and made good time overall - especially given the diversions of the day before had each been put to bed.
By lunch I arrived at West Bay near Bridport and span around a few times to clock any other STs in the vicinity. Nothing. It was beautifully sunny and quite warm out of the shadows and I guessed some might cuss when they realise they'd missed an ideal winter's day ride out. Shadowfax and I parked up but found a few neighbouring wateries closed so crossed to the kiosks selling fish'n'chips over the narrow harbour.
I parked Shadowfax on double-yellow lines as there seemed no where else sensible to leave him for the few minutes needed to grab a quick brew. He was admired by some middle-aged couples and he seemed to enjoy some attention given his filthy state. Somehow the dirt felt like a medal or badge of rites of passage, or something. Every drop and splat told a tale: often harrowing, sometimes exciting, but never dull. Man and his steed together in camaraderie.
Okay, it's a little odd, I guess but I think this was the defining moment in my finally admitting that although I don't do with chaps, I'm a biker.
The trip back was uneventful. My forearms and knees ached a little but I pushed on home and felt a well earned fatigue sweep over me on crossing the driveway's threshold. Shadowfax had carried us through some quite extreme climatic conditions and the confidence the Heine Gericke gear had given was outstanding. I felt very proud to have had the opportunity to make this journey , which was far more an internalised victory rather than just a weekend jaunt on a motorcycle.
So few other motorcyclists had made a ride that day - I know, I read it all over the forums. I shrugged and walked back into the warmth of the house with just one more glance back at Shadowfax's outline beneath his covers. Some people just don't know what they're missing.
Comments