Scotland Trip Day 4

"Gusty Gusty Windflap"

And so, after three superb days of riding some of the best roads our little island possesses. It was time to head home. Five weary but happy travellers facing all that the weather Gods could throw at them.

It had been pretty much persisting down all night and the morning seemed no better as we headed up the singletrack road out of the village. The little babbling brook that followed the line of the road was by now a raging torrent of copper coloured, foam topped water that was being fed by water streaming down the sides of the mountains. It was awe inspiring to witness. It was like Mother Nature had decided to put on a display of power and majesty to make sure we would never forget our little foray into this truly beautiful part of the world.

None of us had breakfast that morning so we agreed we would call in to a suitable café in Arrochar for a bacon butty and a warming mug of coffee. We found a suitable place just on the outskirts of Arrochar, it was a converted church. The bacon butties were excellent, and gave us a bit of respite from the driving rain.

We got ourselves suited and booted once again, but this time in glorious sunshine. Zippy approached his bike ready for the off, turned the ignition on and the bikes alarm/immobiliser kicks in. Zippy tried to disarm the alarm, but nothing would turn the bloody thing off. The poor lad. What with all the MOT trouble he‘d suffered, he didn’t need this. He made a quick call to enquire about using the breakdown cover on his insurance, it was good to use but would take an hour two to reach us.

We decided to have a look and see if we could sort the problem ourselves. Myself and Scotch Broth both come from a mechanical background, so we had a little usable knowledge on tap.

We stripped off the nose cone and screen to get at the alarm which was mounted just underneath the clocks. Scotch Broth pulled out the alarm multiplug, bridged a couple of terminals, and hey presto, the bike started. Zippy was a happy chappy. And Mr. Broth, you’re a genius…

Back on the bikes we headed of along the A82 past Loch Lomond and onto a fuel stop at Dumbarton. After fuelling up Scotch Broth told us that he would be heading back down the A76 to Dumfries to visit family, where as we were going to blast along the M8 and down the M74 and get home in time for Sunday dinner. So we said our farewell’s and parted company just after the Erskine Bridge crossing.

The wind was really starting to pick up by now and felt almost gale force in strength. It was going to be no fun at all traversing the moors on the M74.

In actual fact the wind on the M74 was bad, but nowhere near as bad as it got around Carlisle and the open sections of the M6. For quite long stretches we found ourselves in the inside lane doing 55-60 mph just to avoid being blown across two lanes. After 30 minutes of buttock clenching we reached the relative sanctuary of the A66, the wind was now at our backs so we could relax a little and make up for lost time.

Before long we were home, the bikes were filthy, we were knackered but very happy.

It was a fantastically successful trip. On a personal note, I have learned loads over the four days and I can’t thank Scotch Broth enough for joining us and putting up with our limited abilities and basically being an all round good egg. You’re a top man Mr. Broth.

And so another year, another OMP road trip. So where to next year guys??????????

Bungle