Sunday morning came with a thin grey sky up high and chunky grey clouds, a bit of wind but no rain, I pulled on my leather trousers and fleece, I even put my summer gloves in the top box, I was expecting some heat today in spite of the weather report which I completely ignored for some reason..yes yes maybe I’m getting older and senile! But probably because I thought it was May and the tulips were out in the garden! Julie opted for the full monty winter kit again. The cat went out of her own accord this morning, and Lightning the oss? Well that bugger couldn’t give a damn as he was busy mowing the grass in his field again!
At 0830 hrs we were winging our way west on the M62, arching right presently onto the A1 we flew low around the cooling towers of Ferrybridge heading north towards Ripon. As usual I was keen to note what the clouds were doing, as we approached Wetherby twenty minutes later we had climbed enough to observe conditions far away to the north west, “Hmmm, not sure about this” I mumbled to myself. On one hand I could see low and high cloud, even some gaps and clear blue sky was in evidence and the surrounding grey clouds even had white tops, evidence of the sun! But on the other hand I saw grey clouds with that smudge underneath as though some errant child had put their thumb on the still wet canvas and smeared the cloud down to the ground, this of course indicated rain! It was still a bit cold but I put this down to the early morning. We landed at Ripon market square after sixty minutes on the road, we took our helmets off and it started to rain! (and I started to swear)
It was only a quick shower but our mood dipped slightly so we nipped into the Sunday café, a huge chocolate cuppa topped with cream brought me back to happy mood again! Like birds arriving for their morning feed Goldwings began to land, Ian and M Jones first with their “Lord of the Rings” Wing, these were old friend from Carlisle we were happy to see them again. Mick on his trusty 1500 came next, another 05 veteran! Barry and the flock arrived minutes later. Barry promptly set about ripping the Purple Pussy 1800 apart! “T bar Dave!” he shouted. Mark complained that his CB wasn’t working properly,  he shouted me for a T spanner AND lube now. Chrissy was getting used to this now and had stood back unperplexed….unlike Mark who got his never ending supply of fags out and stood pointing at this and that! Meanwhile folk drifted to the café for something warm wet and sticky.
Derek and Heather were on song with smiles  “bon-omi” for everyone, Heather was one of my camera bitches and busy getting some good candid shots, always on the prowl for the naughty shot she is!
Mr Tony Hudson trusty stalwart from Wakefield on his smart 1800 was here on his own again, this time he was adorned with his new wind resistant rubber continence suit..I never knew one could stretch so much (By the end of the day I wished I had one on too..good thinking Tony)
Geoff Smith our CB middle man on the hot orange wing with Christine stood with us and kept warm, a bit like those fat penguins do every year at the south pole.
Blake the male model put in a brief appearance from Leeds way, with his plain but shiny silver 1800. He had family arrangements today but popped across to say hello and get his photo taken to improve his portfolio, it was nice to see him even though it was brief. Next time my friend, next time!
Deryck and Jan from t’ther side of York arrived last and in a bit of a tiz, Deryck let Mistress Garmin lead him a merry dance insisting Ripon market place was elsewhere. Poor lad had been generally fekked around by a machine. Perhaps this was how “The Terminator” trilogy started in the future when those damnable Garmins  took over the world?? On the back of their blue 1800 Jan was looking cool with her non lesbian hairdo, bless!
So at the beginning we were ten bikes with Mr Hemmingway heading back home for a nice day with the kids, having managed at least a short spin on his bike. Our rideout number today therefore was actually eight 1800’s and one 1500 which on reflection was a good number considering the disappointing Bank Holiday weather forecast and a traditional family gathering day.
It was just after 10.30hrs when we declared the Purple Pussy well f***ed. The CB was probably rusted to buggery. Mark did remember a while ago a full flask of hot water had “sloshed about a bit” in the top box. It might have nothing to do with it but then it just might! Hey I’m glad Mark is back after a month in Australia I’m writing about him lots already! He is such a genuine character and funny to be around, we are glad Chrissy is back too but for entirely different reasons!!!!!!!
Now that everyone had a smile on their faces it was time to move off, folk were chattering away on CB’s  except for Mark and Chrissy of course who today just had each other to talk to! We took a different route towards Masham through some really small hamlets with Olde Worlde names like Nunwick and Norton Conyers, I did the route originally for Barry today on Mapsource on the PC and put a lot of waypoints in as it kept trying to take the main road an inch away. Consequently Barry was being out talked today by Mistress Garmin he couldn’t get a word in at times. She was so disruptive and noisy that even his human inbuilt sat nav got confused and he called “Left turn coming up” before disappearing right, it was highly entertaining and made everyone giggle. Just before West Tanfield enough was enough and he ordered a “Right turn… bugger this…RIGHT turn” and we took a short hop on the A1 up to Bedale before skipping back onto the planned route. All day Barry got ribbed about his left and right turns poor lad, I imagined everyone thought it only courteous to take the micky as the boot was now on the other foot! It’s the price one has to pay for being the mickey taking comedian that he is.
A nice way to look at going wrong with the map directions is to say to yourselves “We have not gone wrong we are just going a different way” Julie and I have over the years discovered some wonderful countryside by adopting this slow laid back philosophy although we can’t always remember where we have been.
We settled in some sort of order on the A684 from Bedale to Hawes, I had Ian and M at my front with Deryck and Jan in front of them, we were not a long group today so Geoff had an easy day and was able to heckle Barry at the front about his left and rights, unfortunately his jibber jabber ran amok and he got himself into deep shit with Christine as Barry managed to turn the tables on him. For that Old Geoff paid the penalty and lost his chokki biscuits (Thank you Christine)
Meanwhile back to the business of riding! Most riders today were relatively senior in goldwing experience so had a very smooth day overall, Ian gave Deryck more room as he was still on his learning curve and covered his brakes more than usual. Mick was gleefully making the old blue bread van go pretty smartish, Tony was having a great time as a solo rider today and was hacking after Barry on parts where it was safe to zoom a little. I could see Heather on the back of Derek with her camera clicking away, Christine my other camera bitch had her’s out too (camera I mean) and was doing her best to get some rearward shots. I’m sure we will have some good ones to use.
The weather was not improving, it was still cold, we were climbing up and riding over open ground so the winds were having a whale of a time with us. By now I was wishing I had my winter thermals on and not my manly leather trousers.
 We passed through Leyburn onto the old tank road and the army ranges, recently the target buts had been re-modelled to resemble targets on the present areas of conflict. There is some story circulating that they were originally shaped like minarets unfortunately some cretin had taken a photo and complained so the targets had been altered to avoid causing distress?? It makes logical sense to me to have targets of women in carrying bundles etc, children on pushbikes and men in religious clothes, and as for Mosque shaped targets on the tank/rifle ranges, well that’s obvious according to news that has filtered back that the enemy they are fighting are frequently hiding and shooting from mosques. The story might well be codswallop and just put out to cause mischief eh?
We pushed on to familiar Reeth and the usual left (or right) turn towards Tan Hill, Barry suggested we stop for a coffee at the CB Inn just a few miles further as we were turning away from Tan Hill presently to ride north West to Barnard Castle, we slowed to enter the unpaved potholed car park, slowly picking our spot as the cold wind tugged pushed and pulled at us, the girls dismounted and ran to the toilets and the boys sorted flasks, Julie gave cups of soup to several folk  whilst Christine gained her revenge and gave Geoffs favourite chokki biscuits away “That will teach him” she says, “Here have them all!” His face was a picture when he returned from the toilet with the women.
The clouds had gone but it was still quite grey and overcast, the cold wind was really biting up here. We donned lids and gloves then formed up on the road after carefully picking our way from the awful car park surface up over a ridge onto the tarmac. The next valley was the start of “killer cock robin” country and the scene last year of the murder of a father of two. Barry managed to spook a male pheasant who was strutting along the edge of the road with his two chicks minding his own business, Barry had LOADS of room but managed to kill the poor bird, the rest of us riding close behind rode through a short shower of bird feathers! Meanwhile Barry was most impressed at the sturdiness of his fog lights as he rubbed away the poor birds lifeblood. Lo and behold me thinks this is why Barry now has a blood red wing!
Down in the valley we had a welcome break from the cold winds as we twisted and turned along tree lined roads, the small gnarled trees above us looked so old and the bark was refreshingly green in colour, a healthy sign of no pollution.
We nipped across the busy, fast A66 to another small road that let us enter Barnard Castle town briefly before turning north again, we had a short stop as a clot in a 4×4 played with his instruments such as lights, indicators, gear stick and such whilst sitting in the middle of the road, this tweed twat was typical of a Sunday driver and well worthy of deep looks of contempt, first Geoff, then Deryck then me! The long straight road to Eggleston was on an old Roman road if I remember being told correctly once. It’s so beautiful and open up here and so very good for the soul, it’s good to be away from civilisation sometimes.
At this point we stopped for the team photo, someone had spent days piling little stones onto a very neat pile next to a sign which Barry topped off with the last stone. The fancy name plate said of “DURHAM LAND of the PRINCE BISHOPS”. It’s a rather curious statement isn’t it? The thing is, apparently the seat of the Bishop of Durham is the fourth most significant in the English church hierarchy and he stands at the right hand of the monarch at coronations. Hence some signposts for the modern day County of Durham are somewhat fancifully subtitled “Land of the Prince Bishops.” So yes we gathered here today in the chill wind for the group shot.
This crest riding little road took us north west to Stanhope then onto the A689 along the valley heading west and on through Wearhead  before turning north yet again towards the comic sounding Dirt Pot Allenheads and the ordinary sounding Allenheads! The road was worthy of a bit of speed here and we began to “get a lick on” Barry pulled the group along, increasing speed and stretching us out a bit. The singlies had much fun here! Here and there we encountered stelvio type corners and drops before zooming off again along the ridges and valleys for a good few miles before dropping down to a mature speed entering the village of Allenheads. The hardy policeman propped up the wall, a speed gun hanging by his side, he was stood in high a visibility jacket at the end of a long half mile drop, I shouted if he was cold as I passed at thirty MPH, he shouted back in the affirmative. Did you know that Allenheads is credited as the village with the highest altitude in England?
We filled with fuel here before turning away from our intended destination of Tea and Scones at Langley Castle, unfortunately they had two weddings booked for this afternoon and we were offered just a 45 minute slot at midday so we cancelled, we normally spend well over an hour here taking in the great views from the roof. I don’t suppose the two happy couples would welcome 15 or so puffed up bikers in the background of all their photos and generally crowding their £20,000 wedding loudly crowing about the cold and asking where the bloody scones were!!
Instead we turned south west towards Alston and a faintly remembered tea stop, thank’s to Geoff, this turned out to be Hartside Café, I had actually been here before but came from a different direction so wasn’t quite sure of it until we actually landed there. The views are fantastic as it sits right on the edge and looks out over Penrith and the sea away in the distance, it’s a great biker haven for obvious reasons as we would show everyone on the road down the hill in an hour or so. Meanwhile it was dinnertime and a disorderly line formed whilst the tone in the café turned in our favour! Mick was unlucky today and stood several places along in the line, Deryck has a photo as proof! Tony was chomping at the bit and pointing at some scrawny Sunday hill walkers as they appeared in front somehow. It took a while to warm up as we were fair chilled to the bone, it wasn’t long though before the colour began to return to our cheeks as hot tea and soup ran through our bodies.  We stayed a while before returning to the bikes outside in the wind and snow flakes…I kid you not! We all saw the few patches of snow that lay on the tops, we all saw too the beginnings of a light snow shower and shuddered, Barry stood at his bike to see a sock marked L and R over each grip! The joke was still rolling on, everyone was getting in on it. T’was only fair after all the ribbing that Barry shells out to people. Keep gritting the teeth Barry it should stop any day soon! The giggling was blown away on the afternoon winds as were the snow flakes
The ride down the hillside was a fun ride and easy to see why there was a bikers café at the top. Just a few miles further on and we turned left on a small road through Eden Garth onto the B6412 following the railway to Culgaith then onto the fast A66 heading east before joining a great little road again, this time the B6259, we crossed the railway several times as we rode through some wonderful countryside, Kirkby Stephen was soon reached and passed, within the hour we pulled over at Hawes. It was decided earlier that Hawes would be the last waypoint for today’s ride out, it was handy for most people to split here and head home south, east or west. We said our goodbyes and kissed ruddy red cheeks. Barry would take some with him over the tops towards Skipton, the rest left in dribs and drabs eastwards to pick up the A1 and speed generally southward.
Julie and I left first and a minute later took an impromptu detour… not the wrong way but just in a different direction, remember?  We soon returned to the intended route and were now maybe half a mile behind Geoff and Tony, we kept picking them up on CB, I thought about catching up but had just thirty miles of petrol and would have to pull over soon for more so settled to a steady pace, overtaking the odd car here and there, we sometimes caught a glimpse of a Goldwing in the distance but the traffic was not light this evening so we took our time instead. We could hear Geoff and Tony on their CB’s for quite a while, I think we probably kept pace with them but the traffic prevented any realistic attempt to rejoin them as there was the real possibility of smearing ourselves along the cold grey jagged dry stone walls that ran close alongside. I can’t see the point of that can you?
We stopped at Bedale for petrol and didn’t hear the guys again. The A1 south from here was a 50 MPH zone for quite a while through the road works as it was being widened. When the restriction stopped the road ahead was wonderfully empty of traffic so we dropped our visors and got a pretty lick on zooming towards the M62 which I have to admit was reached rather quickly.  We slowed to take the exit, joining the M62 at a slower motorway speed! It seemed to be that time of the evening when nothing much on the major trunk roads, I twisted the grip more and more whilst keeping a sharp eye out slowing down twenty two miles and a few minutes later for the M18. I could almost smell the hot bath now! My God it had been really, REALLY cold today but such fun we wouldn’t have missed it for the world. Finally I leaned forward and turned the engine off at Walnut Cottage. We prised ourselves off the bike and groaned as blocks of ice turned back into fingers toes and other pointy bits! POOKA gave that “open the fekkin door and feed me look” as she does. Lightening was STILL mowing the field.
Today was a 300+ mile ride for our silver 1800 under miles and miles of grey sky and cloud, we were pulled, pushed and generally brow beaten by cold slashing winds, we felt a slither of rain, saw a dot or two of snowflake and still heard laughter and still saw smiles in abundance on rosy cheeked Wanderers, For me I enjoyed today with some funny cold people, it was altogether a most enriching experience again. Maybe a January ride out might not be such a bad idea after all?…..I’m kidding folks just kidding!
Tilateronthen
                                      THE SCRIBE.