Still alive (just)… but what a trip that was...!
Last minute preparations were a tad rushed & not everything got sorted as I would have liked. My route plans were hastily fashioned from Google maps & I had managed to get 80% of my accommodation reservations in place to go with it (not knowing if this would be a good or bad thing at this time), plus some phaffing around with blocked/internationally barred mobiles etc. & some trials to get to grips with the GoPro that I had borrowed from work – like I really needed more stuff to piss about with. However, the NC charging/electrical problems were resolved with new battery, regulator, connector plug/pins to the loom, a Renthal chain sprocket set & fresh rubber, all care of Selwyn at Ray Cowles Motorcycles Pontypool.
Day 0:
Tuesday I had to go to work (currently in Bristol) to complete some essential stuff, attend a meeting & receive a special delivery of a small can of my favourite chain lube to complete my toolkit. My intention was to leave for Kent straight after work, but my twisty ride route that morning (via Usk to Chepstow lanes) confirmed that I had far too much luggage which would just spoil the experience of a lifetime by bogging the NC down in the mountains. So at the end of the working day I reluctantly returned home to Wales, emptied all my luggage over the lounge floor, reassessed its validity – ditching all non-essential items including any form of luxury, most of my spare clothing and substituted my trainers with my Indian leather flip-flops!
Some 3 hours later than originally planned, I left for Folkstone just after 6pm with a fuel stop and quick bite to eat at M4 Leigh Delamere Services near Chippenham. Tentative plans to meet up with Zippy from the forum for a pint or 3 had faded to grey. I needed to get a wiggle on so hurriedly negotiating the awkward car park exit junction whilst looking for lorries coming from the truck park to the right then I looked forward and BANG!!!... I had rear ended a Mazda 6 and the NC & me were now lying on the floor wedged underneath the rear bumper on our left side. I thought I was dreaming… I will wake up in a minute and it will still be a week to go until my trip… alas No, a split second later I was jumping around in circles cursing & shouting! Another and I was franticly trying to pick up my ride. She had been spotlessly clean & polished, even sporting a rear wheel nut cap at a ridiculous £8 for a tiny disc of clear plastic, but alas now she was broken & my Italia trip lay in tatters on the floor just 60 miles in…
After while I calmed down, we exchanged details, assessed the damages, took some photos & I reported it to my ins co (via the mrs). The chap was amazingly calm considering being hit up the arse by a madman on a bike & that he had only had the car 2 weeks. Guess he must have took pity on me.
So I set about seeing if I could get back on the road. By this time it was dusk, I was now on my own, I was close to tears. The front nose was dislodged, completely split across the front between the headlights and all the way down the front right leading edge. Its joint with the RH inspection panel had exploded open but all the lugs looked intact. Inspection of the front wheel, brakes, front forks etc all seemed ok but would reserve judgement until rolling. The gear lever was bent under the linkage rod & was non-functional. The rest of the damage front mudguard, bar-end, exhaust can, LH fairing & tank seemed to be fairly minor scrapes/scuffs. Thank god I took my head-torch & a few additional tools or I would have been completely stuffed. An hour or so later into the night after gingerly sorting the gear lever with a 6in adjustable spanner praying that it wouldn’t snap, removal and refitting of some of the body work and a mountain of duct tape I went for a test ride around the services carpark. All seemed good [Plan B had come to mind of recovery & jump on the R1 – but the w/e invitation wasn’t for this one & rolling up on it would have been a real WTF moment. A lesser man would have just gone home & cancelled everything].
So I made the decision to press on, slowly at first but with the evening fast disappearing I needed to get to my hotel before the bar staff locked up & went home. I gave them a ring to update them of my predicament and resulting delay. London soon loomed and just onto the M25 the heavens opened – great, piss on me some more why don’t you? At the bottom of M25 and a fuel stop I gave the hotel another update, thought it was going to be tight if I made it in time. I also discovered that after an hour or so in heavy rain my waterproof over trousers weren’t really up to the job, neither were my leather gloves or Sidi racing boots for that matter. I arrived in the warren that is Folkstone town at 23:10 but alas I couldn’t find the hotel. Their phone was just a recorded message then rung off. Due to the pouring rain there was no one about on the streets to ask the way. Tired, cold, wet & thoroughly demoralised I finally found it at 23:40 all locked up. After 15 mins of attempts to wake somebody by banging on the door & shouting/whistling loudly I sat on the doorstep dejected, looked around for somewhere dry that I could just lie down & close my eyes. If I had a gun that would have been the easiest option. I got out my phone. My love had been speaking to the hotel & sent me a mobile contact number by txt. I gave it a ring and left a VM. A really nice chap (from Swansea) promptly came out of a building across the street let me in and showed me to my room. It was gone midnight, I stripped of my wet stuff & went straight to bed absolutely shattered, but crap how was I going to survive the next 12 days abroad in this state?
Day 1:
Woke on the alarm 06:20hrs, showered, got into my damp gear, collected my packed breakfast from the coolbox outside my door, got on the bike & made my way to the Eurotunnel terminal before my 07:20 deadline. Booked in, thru passport control & duly went to my queue lane. An announcement over the tannoy informed that my train was cancelled. On the plus side this made time for a nice cuppa, bacon & egg roll at the adjacent burger van :D, and some chit-chat with an expectant buzz ahead of the various trips from the many bikers which steadily gathered there. The NC raised some eyebrows being outside the norm of the usual mix of larger machinery, trailees, tourers, cruisers & the occasional hardcore 1ltr supersports. Even more so & a certain air of respect when they learned I was riding alot further than anyone to Italy! Kept the hotel brecky for later.
So eventually onto the train, off in no time, then on mass to the petrol station. With the cancellation delay and 1 hour time difference the time was now fast approaching 11:00hrs and I had over 600km to do today - oh crap. I swiftly said/waved/tooted my goodbyes and set on my merry way towards Belgium. I had already decided to give the French tolls & Gendarmes a miss for obvious reasons. I settled into a 95mph cruise laying on the tankbag which I had borrowed was surprising comfortable. Soon the clouds got darker and looked very angry. Showers gave way to torrential downpours, visibility was fair to poor. I soldiered on past Brussels and into Luxemburg by late afternoon, I was wet and so was most of the contents of the tank bag. Turns out its integral cover not was up to the job. At least I had on my thermal inner gloves, fitted the thermal liner to my leathers which coupled with wet weather jacket/trousers kept the wind out so although parts of me were wet I was warm enough to keep riding. My 20 year old mini tankbag fashioned to the pillion seat was working well & kept its contents dry. Fell off my route briefly at Luxemburg City but low point of this day was getting lost again around Saarbruken in Germany unable to find my desired route which added a further 100km to my journey criss-crossing on the motorway until I was forced to go in search of fuel, still bunging it down, maps wet. At the fuel stop I asked the way and a kind German motorist who was taking a similar route led the way and set me on my desired path. Navigation on a bike in the rain is hard, in the rain in the dark is twice as hard. I arrived at my hotel at 22:30hrs tired but pleased to be where I had planned to be. The hotel staff were brilliant, bike put to bed in the garage along side the owners MV F3 & another trailee. Hotel was a bit of a quirky mix of old & new (some bits fit for an Agatha Cristie movie set) but everything very well equipped and spacious rooms with modern marble bathrooms. A couple of beers, a shower and everything on both radiators. Despite my ordeal, I felt surprisingly good and chilled. I was definitely on my way, in fact a good third of the way.
Day 2:
Woke not so early but with time enough to use the hotel indoor pool before breakfast. Room had beautiful views over a lake & forest from my balcony.
I had managed to dry out all my gear. Sadly, it was still bloody raining & looked set for the day. I had a leisurely breakfast and contemplated another hard day in the saddle. I got my stuff together and went to checkout, opened wallet – oh shit where is my credit card??? I emptied my bags on the reception floor, but there was no sign of it – oh bollocks – when did I last see it? Fuel/food stop 20:30hrs last night in the cold/wet/dark… I pulled out the receipt and luckily it had a telephone number, the hotel owner gave it a ring to make enquiries. YA? they had mine, old software allowed it to be left in the machine! – and they had hundreds to choose from so safe in the knowledge that I’m not the only nonce
I settled the hotel bill with my debt card and set off in the wrong direction in the rain. Fortunately, the garage was only 35km away but I didn’t really need this as I had over 600km planned for today and it would be 1100hrs before I started any of it. All sorted I blasted my way down the A8 past Karlsruhe, Stuttgart, stopping at Ulm by mid afternoon for fuel & rest stop. The bad weather seemed to be traversing Europe with me. Got talking to couple of bikers who had ridden from Austria/Bavaria who reckoned my intended overnight at Galtur would be bad idea due to snow. I was a tad worried so rang the hotel, who reassured me that snow was on the mountains but roads were ok. I set off down the A7 crossing Bavaria & into Austria where my route left the Autobahn and it was supposed to get twisty & enjoyable, but not in these conditions. I ditched my planned high mountain routes and picked the lowest/safest route possible to Galtur, itself a ski resort at 1600m in the Silvretta Pass of the Austrian Tyrol. My extremities were starting to get a bit cold, but I arrived at 20:30hrs to a warm welcome – better than yesterday but still way too late. I dumped all my gear onto the boot rack warmers in the hotel ski room and was swiftly directed to a fab hotel restaurant a couple of doors away where I had a superb meal & good chat with a party from Scotland. Galtur was pretty empty as Sept is in lull between Summer & Winter seasons. Back to my hotel for several beers, banter & schnapps with a party of German hill walkers into the small hours…
Day 3:
Woke early but still worst for drink, AND its still feckin raining!!!! –This was supposed to be a trip of a lifetime not a trip to hell and back! Lounged in bed reviewing the weather forecasts & studied the maps over breakfast with designs on getting out of this feckin weather. I ditched my plan for the Stelvio Pass as visibility would have been zero, so armed with my Motorrad maps decided to head south straight into Italy and arrive at Truden in good time for the welcome party. By the time I set off the rain had eased and thoughts of filming something with the GoPro Hero2 that I had borrowed resurfaced for the first time since doing a time lapse from Wales to Bristol. I set another time lapse going from the tank. Shortly after Landeck whats this? DRY ROADs for the first time! I removed my wet weather gear and started to enjoy the mountain roads :D As I filtered to the front of a roadworks traffic queue I slotted in behind a pair of BMW GS1100 trailees. We set off at a good pace making easy work of the roads & other traffic. As we crossed the Italian border the clouds gave way to sunshine – YIPEE!!! The fast open roads passed though supaerb scenery with mix of rolling green hills dramatic mountains & beautiful lakes. We made our way to Merano and a fuel stop & we had good chat over coffee & pastries. They had the exact same Motorrad map as I had. We made a route plan that would take us on several passes into the mountains towards Bolzano then onwards to our destinations in the Dolomites. I removed a base layer & the body-warmer from my leathers to suit the warmer conditions before we set off again. We had a blast all afternoon on unbelievable roads, this is what the trip was about. Passing the Lago di Caldaro we had a brief stop at Ora Auer to exchange e-mail address, take a couple of pictures and say our goodbyes and I headed upwards again towards Truden.
As I turned off the main road I slotted behind 2 RC30’s who waved & tooted. I followed them into Truden down though the village to the venue at Hotel Ludwigshof and up the steep driveway into a sea of people & VFRs buzzing around the extensive open garaging & beer garden. I gave the NC a good rev & hit the kill switch, I had arrived. I was relieved, stoked and my bike was stinking! I got off removed my lid & Tom standing next to his immaculate RC30 sporting a Parisienne paint-job cooly introduced himself and asked where I was from. When I said I had ridden from Wales many couldn’t quite believe it and this spread throughout the various groups dotted around garden. I was swiftly given a large beer and many people came to chat, congratulate and share in the triumph of my achievement. In a while I was introduced to Pit (RC30 DE club chairman) who arranged an additional place for me at the welcome dinner and his son who dutifully recorded my attendance and registered my bike for tomorrow’s participation in the Sella Ronda. This would be a 170km rideout incorporating 4 mountain passes around the Sella Massif. To my amazement our VIP guest was no other than Mr Kazuo Honda - RC30 Project Leader who had joined us for the weekend. A couple of hours of chat & drooling over 40+ bits of 750/400cc hardware later, I made a quick appearance at my hotel 5 mins walk into the village to check-in, a quick shower and returned to the Ludwigshof for the welcome dinner. The meal & evening flew by and by midnight thoughts were focussed on getting some shut eye before the main event. I flip-floped my way up the narrow cobbled streets to my bed.
Day 4: The Sella Ronda
Woke really early, took some pictures of Truden, had breakfast and got my arse down to the Ludwigshof in plenty of time for the briefing at 9. The temperature was quite low with potential for early mist so a decision was made to delay the start of the rideout until after 10am. This gave time for me to use the garage facilities and gave my ride a good wash & even a dash of polish to make her a tad more presentable. I was glad of this as there was to be a photo-shoot during the event on top of one of the passes. The sun was soon made an appearance and it turned out to be a glorious day.
From 10am onwards we set off in small groups at 5 min intervals. I was invited to ride with Tom, Rudy, Joe all on RC30s with me & another chap on NC30s. The bikes caused a stir with many a turned head when riding through the towns & villages enroute to the circuit starting at Canazei.
Once on the mountain passes I set the GoPro going to capture some video. The roads were sporadically quite busy with traffic and there were also quite a lot of cyclists, but we filtered with relative ease. The scenery got more & more dramatic & rugged as we continued our ascent. On arriving at the summit of the Passo Pordoi we parked up in a long line for the photo-shoot and a break. Our VIP & non-riding guests arrived by coach.
Surprisingly my temporary repairs to my fairing using white tank tape hardly notice. Back on the bikes and we rode down to Arabba then north the Passo Campolongo and stopped at Corvara in Badia for coffee & cheesecake whilst basking in the sunshine.
Oooh, what a nice pair!
We headed west and tackled Passo Gardena & south on the Passo Sella to complete the circuit, then headed back to Truden by mid afternoon. What a superb buzz.
Everyone arrived back safely with no issues or breakdowns. The afternoon gathering was punctuated with some games around the garden and all the participants were presented with an A3 sized commemorative RC30 poster which Mr Kazuo Honda sat at a table in the garden and duly signed for everyone. I also got him to sign the arse of my bike. The party got going in ernest leading to a superb celebration dinner, followed by speeches, visitor/guest acknowledgements and trophy presentations for youngest, oldest & farthest distance travelled participents and winners of the afternoon games. I was pipped to the distance trophy by a Portugese chap & just 100km. But hey my 2nd prize HRC Repsol Honda T-shirt was easier on the luggage! The core party then continued well into the wee hours...
Day 5:
I had originally planned for Sunday to be a rest day for me and had a bit of a lie in. But I learned yesterday that a subgroup were staying at the hotel for the week so I arranged to go riding with them. It was a much cooler day, cloudy but still dry. I rolled up at the Ludwigshof before anyone had set off homeward. I got an invitation to the club 10 year celebration near the Nurbergring for next summer. Following the major goodbyes, I teamed up with Gerhard on his RC30 plus Norbert & his mate – who I nicknamed “The FLM Brothers” (read:
flem) after their matching rain suits – they reciprocated with “Rubber Bones” after learning of my snow & skateboarding antics. We geared up and set our route encompassing the southern sections of the Dolomiti from the Motorrad maps. Some 400km later we returned & hit the beer and restaurant and drank into the night, again.
Day 6:
Monday was time for me to leave Truden and make tracks to ride some of the Austrian Tyrol & Hinterglem in the coming days.
I meandered my way through the Dolomites for the final time via Cortina and headed north for Lienz in Austria and the Grossglockner Alpine Road (Austria’s highest mountain).
A brilliant morning was had but unfortunately by the afternoon the weather took a dive and quickly became pretty unpleasant. Poor visibility meant that the Grossglockner was no longer an option so I was forced to take a very large detour via Mittersill basically 3 sides of a rectangle to get to my next hotel in Fusch in the northern end of the pass a few kms south of Zell Am Zee, pushing my ETA well into the evening once more. I arrived in Zell but got lost in the rain and dark then whilst trying leave the town – another heart in mouth moment – as I unexpectedly arrive too fast at a dead end marked with two unlit concrete barriers, I lost control but sail thru the small bike sized gap in the middle and stop just before a brook... WTF!!! Without that gap it would have been premature end to my holiday with a trip to the local hospital. A U-turn back thru the gap, got my bearings and eventually find my route to Fusch. Checked in to the Gasthof Wasserfall 2 nights HB and put my gear on the ski boot warmers once more. I hit the bar and welcomed by Nico (a Dutchman) who I met 2 years ago on a snowboard trip. Food, a few beers with some chasers...
Day 7:
Tuesday I attempted the Grossglockner from the northern end. On arrival at the toll booths I was informed that it was closed to motorcycles due to high winds blowing snow across the roads. Plan B – I went in search of waterproof gloves. After a couple of blanks I rolled up at the BMW garage in Kaprun which had a good bike section. Struck a deal with 10% off and got myself a tidy pair of BMW Gortex gloves they even have a rubber visor wiperblade on the left index finger! Best bit of my kit now - result. With the remainder of the day I headed north past Zell Am Zee lake to Salfelden and do a circuit incorporating the Hochkonigstrase Pass. It was quite cold but dry, stopped for coffee & by far the best homemade fruit pastry I have ever tasted! Suitably warmed I completed the pass and ride back to the hotel and hit the sauna. Man food & more beers with Christian a police officer from Munich on holiday on his trailee.
Day 8:
Wednesday I attempted the Grossglockner for the third & final time. I got lucky, it was open to motorrad (with care).
I inserted my token at motorcycle lane barrier and I was off into the highest mountain pass in Austria. The road was often wet with some bits a mix of dry/damp patches. The mountains & views were absolutely awesome. I climbed for what seemed like forever, it got very cold, the road was quickly lined with big piles of snow. At the summit of the pass at over I went up the ice strewn cobbled road, both feet on the ground, to the view point (biker’s point). There were some cars but I was the only bike. I took in the magnificent views & took a picture to match the 1938 postcard view.
Bought some token prezzies, a bergkristal for my son (Geology A level) & a pack of Adelweiss seeds for mrs who’s into gardening. I attempted the summit of the Grossglockner mountain (a dead end which terminates at Kaiser Franz Josefs Hütte) but aborted due to zero visability from mist/cloud cover so settled for a coffee at the Alpinecenter GlocknerHaus Hotel by the lake, during which a steady trickle of 20somethings seemed to be arriving for some extreme mountain climbing holiday experience. Back on the bike I continued down and out the southern end of the pass for a fuel/drink stop. Then, you’ve guessed it, I rode the pass all over again from the other direction...
I pass and leave behind my hotel in Fusch once more bound for Hotel Bruggerhof on the banks of the Schwarzsee (Black Lake) on the outskirts of Kitzbuhel. This is a special treat as super HB and includes a a wellness centre to die for! Large pool, several saunas, steam rooms, infra-red, massage, gym...
At the Hannenkam lift in centre of Kitzbuhel
Day 9:
In the morning I decide to go swimming in the lake, much to the amusement of hotel staff & some people walking their dogs.
I ride the NC in swim shorts & flip-flops around the corner through carpark & up path to waters edge & set the GoPro and swim to opposite side & back. Return to the hotel for a leisurely breakfast then ride some more of the hinterglem and on to Innsbruck, pop into Louis Motorcycle Megashop for some more chain lube. Investigate the one piece oversuits but nothing suitable. Continue my journey passing into Bavaria thru Garmisch with overnight in Ettal half way to Oberammergau. Crappy single room in a somewhat grandiose hotel Blue Gams which seemed to be overrun with a large party of Japs. But great otherwise.
Day 10:
Friday I ride the last of the twisty roads a very scenic route through rolling hills & forests and track the edge of a large lake (Plansee) which takes me back into Austria to Ruette.
From here I join the Autobahns & start the long homeward trip stopping for overnight once more in Hotel Seeblick in Bad Bergzabern located in the middle of the B427 which is a twisty route through rolling hills/forest and cuts the corner off the autobahn route in Saarland, Germany. Spend some time wandering around the town and suss out a good place to eat. Return to my hotel use the pool & chill on the sunloungers. Then head back into town and treat myself to a superb Ribeye followed by a fancy ice-cream & schnapps sweet.
Day 11:
Early start for a 600km+ ride to from Germany thru Luxembourg, Belgium with an overnight in Bourborg France. Parked the bike in hotel garage & took a wonder around the town but nothing was happening here. Other end of spectrum to yesterday I get a takeaway pizza & sup on some French beer.
Day 12: Last day
Early rise Sunday and 20mins to the Eurotunnel terminal. Arranged to call in on Zippy for a cuppa & chat, got him out of bed, sorry mate – top bloke. I travel to Stockwell in the centre of London a breeze to get to from the SE direction. Spend some time with my snowboarding buddy & his family, more tea, BLT sandwiches then make tracks for Wales mid afternoon. It’s always special moment to cross the River Severn (more so on a bike without the toll) & finally to cast my eyes on the familiar profile of Twmbarlwm & Mynydd Maen the mountain backdrop to my home for the past 49 years.
All done & dusted at 17:30hrs. Total trip distance = 5193 km (3245 miles) in 12 days. Awesome.
So was it worth it? You bet. Would I do it again? Absolutely.
To pinch some good words:
Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.
- Mark Twain
Whatever you do, you need courage. Whatever course you decide upon, there is always someone to tell you that you are wrong. There are always difficulties arising that tempt you to believe your critics are right. To map out a course of action and follow it to an end requires some of the same courage that a soldier needs. Peace has its victories, but it takes brave men and women to win them.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Hotel has a sauna as well 
