Thursday 4 July 2019

Martin's Group RBLR1000


Well this seemed like a good idea back in January…. As the day approached our “whatsapp” group went into meltdown with variations of “Whose bl***y idea was this ???” scattered across the internet “Witchcraft.” No matter, we all arrived at the hotel in good time and registered at Squires as directed. We then adjourned for some “Dutch Courage” back at the hotel and set several alarms for 4am….

By 5am I think we were surprised that all of us were on our bikes armed with combinations of coffee, sweets, chocolate, and various other items, none of which seem to be recommended for a long ride. We booked back into Squires with our official departure time being 0510… The bikes we were riding consisted of 2 R1200GSA’s, an R1200GS, a Suzuki V-Strom 1000 and a Triumph Sprint. With the first stop rattled through at Birch Services we agreed to stop every 100 or so miles so that those not on GSA’s would have regular opportunities to replenish their fuel tanks – Obviously the pair of us on “two wheeled tankers” would simply take the time to replenish out caffeine and chocolate levels…. !

At the next stop it was apparent that we were all slightly chilled and therefore there was much mirth with us all trying to redress ourselves in the services car park. Zippers and poppers are great when you’ve taken to time to work out what part is meant to connect to where…. Still, onwards to Glasgow which is all motorway riding and I was grateful for having spent several hours loading my iPod, although the change from Abba to Johnny Cash and then to The Jam may not be to everyone’s taste. Navigating round Glasgow presented a few challenges as we were starting to get cold and damp, but once we’d survived, Scotland started to show us glimpses of the roads it is famous for..

At Fort William we were joined by another couple of groups and when Pete nearly dropped his GSA we were thankfully unaware that this was due to him having a few “internal” issues that were probably due to the night before. However he managed to style this out and regained control of both his bike, and himself…

The journey from Fort William to Wick was easily one of the most memorable motorcycle rides I have every had – The weather ranged from heavy rain to bright sunshine, the roads from long glorious never ending turns to tight hairpins with the occasion 52 seater coach thrown in, just to keep us awake. The long straight roads encouraged some overtakes that I would only have previously undertaken on PlayStation, and whilst stuck behind a slow moving crane for an eternity, I reminded myself about patient riding…

The scenery on this journey was simply breath taking and some of the bridges made me feel like we were riding in the centre pages of a glossy bike magazine. If I had one regret is was that by now I was starting to feel a tad weary and was concentrating too much on the road and traffic to take it all in. As we approached Wick the mist descended and to be honest, things started to get tough. The Sat Nav happily reminded me that we were yet to reach 500 miles and as such were still under halfway. It was cold, bleak, and the “Why in god’s name am I doing this” ethos started to descend. Paul, on the GS, was the instigator for us being there and obviously became the target of my murderous thoughts. Still, on the bright side I had now reached the 70’s section of my playlist and in my mind I was back in the school disco and I WAS john Travolta….

And then we saw the most glorious sight – Wick Tesco’s – Now not exactly one of the greatest sights ever seen by man (that came later!), but a signal that we now had “only” 480 miles to go…. We were over half way !! – As we dismounted in the mist of Tesco’s most northerly car park there was a joyous feeling that we had climbed the mountain and were on the way down…. Chrissie on the Triumph provided the sugar rush with more Haribo’s, and away we went again…. Leaving Wick in mist and cold was a chore but we were over half way and might actually achieve the aim now. I think at this point we knew it was possible for all of us, and our bikes, to complete the challenge…

And then god spoke to us….. Around 5 miles from Wick I seemed to emerge from the fog and cold into a stunning movie scene.. One of the greatest sights ever.. The sun was shining enough for me to need the sun visor, the traffic evaporated, and I was left to ride the A9 from Wick on a beauty of a bike, with 4 good mates, at a “prompt” speed, awake enough to take in the crashing wave’s yards from my front wheel. Whilst earlier may have been some of the most memorable riding, this was by far and away the best couple of hours UK riding I’ve ever had – I was in a purple patch that I’ve never been in before and it was like riding Nevada for a few hours.

We stopped in Avimore for petrol and I was buzzing….. And then we returned to earth…

Through the Cairngorms there are numerous average speed cameras and whilst this made the journey more relaxed (Cruise control on a bike - brilliant!), we really wanted to crack on. At the next stop in Edinburgh we were somewhat deflated which wasn’t helped by darkness joining the ever present cold. Whilst refuelling both the bikes, and ourselves with an instant Starbucks we were joined by the local constabulary who were riding 250cc motocross bikes. The officers seemed bemused by us being there and when we explained why, they simply looked at us in amazement and agreed with what all of our respective partners has already agreed… “Your mad”..

Still, back onto the bikes with the Sat Nav constantly reminding me that we were nearing our destination but by now fatigue was starting to take hold. As we lost all light other than our headlights I was leading and coming from London have never seen so many cats eyes (They’ve normally all been stolen).. I knew I was tired as I was having to tell myself what the different coloured cats eyes meant, and at one point I rounded a corner to see so many of the gleaming marbles I thought I was having an LSD induced episode…
Another unplanned stop was in order for Coffee and Haribo’s, but thankfully we were now at Berwick…

This was bleak, simply bleak – The only sign of life was the deserted petrol station that thankfully had a working coffee machine, and by now all of us were cold, tired, and had simply had enough. Lloyd on the V-Strom was performing stretching exercise that would put an Olympic gymnast to shame, and even Paul could only mutter “It’s nearly beer time”… I think it was around 1am and the only other vehicle was a mini cab with a few lads on the way home from what was obviously a good night out… Yep, we were all jealous… With the Sat Nav now telling me we had “only” had 120 or so miles to go we sucked it up and started out again…

Now initially this was not too bad. Knowing we were on the final stage of our journey seemed to make the miles roll away along the A1 – My helmet battery expired, which probably wasn’t a bad thing as I was by now into the heavy metal phase – Bat Out of Hell is not always the best to ride a bike too…. In the peace that took over I could hear the BM’s horizontal twin singing, almost in as much delight as me that we were nearly there – And then…

Freezing fog, so bad I couldn’t see further than the very limited range of the Beemer’s lights. Far from needing my sun visor I had to ride with my visor up into the cold and wet to gain a few extra yards vision. Behind me the twin headlights on Chrissie’s Triumph gleamed like a sports car coming through which was a tad disconcerting at times – Now the miles seemed to roll by on an achingly slow basis….. That last hours seemed to last a lifetime, but suddenly we had 15, 12, 10 miles to go and the Sat Nav told me to get off the A1….

My god, we were back at Squires…..

As we rode into Squires car park at 3am two ladies with the clapper hands smiled and greeted us – As I came to a stop a chap held the screen of the bike so that I wouldn’t look two cheap and drop it , although to be honest, that would not have been a problem… Once Lloyd had again showed us his gymnastic prowess there were high 5’s all round – We’d done it. 1000 miles in 22 hours, 1000 miles in 22 long, uncomfortable, but highly satisfying hours….

Once all verified it was straight to The Premier Inn for a planned well-deserved cheeky drop of scotch and then to bed – I didn’t get the scotch, I simply went unconscious….  


We’re now planning a Bunburner 1500, and will be back for the RBLR1000 next year !


All the best

Martin Christianson
Hanovia Motorcycle Tours.



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