Pooka, our three legged cat skipped off to seek shade in the garden on this glorious Sunday 14th of June as Julie and I get our black 1800 out of the garage, she barely offers a backwards glance as we busy ourselves…or should I say Julie does as she gets me to check and double check that I have everything. This getting older lark has its drawbacks for sure, now where are my fekkin glasses?
We leave Doncaster heading towards Barnsley then onto Huddersfield for the second meeting point, I have to say the landscape around Barnsley is fast healing, the huge grey scars and black spoil mountains are slowly turning green and beautiful as the once vibrant coal industry disappears into history, most areas are regenerating whilst others have got themselves seemingly stuck in a time warp. I can’t help but drift back to my early years as a coal face worker and the hardships that came with it, the money was good but boy did I work for it.
There wasn’t much on the roads at this time and we took in the voluptuous greenery and smart stone houses in rural West Yorkshire. It took just over an hour in bright sunshine to do the 40 miles to Huddersfield and reach the meeting point at the Huddersfield branch of Colin Appleyards,  car showroom, a big thank you to car salesman Ali for coming in early and letting us use the shop facilities.

Gordon AKA Havatrucker

First to arrive was pipe smoking Gordon on his bronzey looking 1500 with flashing council light and various other wired up gadgets, he was quickly followed by old contemptibles Brian and Janet from Rotherham on their old red 1500.
Tony from Wakefield landed next on his new 1800, an ex showroom model, a kind of pale dirty red colour, no wife today though, she was working….I know the feeling honey!
Ali got the kettle on as the rest arrived, they settled on the now open forecourt amongst new cars, unzipping coats and removing helmets, greeting and kissing each other, nodding and smiling in recognition, the new guys were greeted with nods winks and warmth.
Mr Nick Scott for example, arrived from Bradford by himself on a pale looking  purple 1500 that had seen plenty of time on the road,

Nick from Bradford and the pale ride

Nick told me he was going to have two fingers removed shortly from his right hand, which is at the moment strapped somewhat. It was damaged at work a while ago and the fingers in question are a burden and quite frankly he views them as less than useless, the operation hopefully will let him use the rest of his right hand with ease. I have to say that from my spot at the back he looked a competent rider, in fact he rode better than some guys who had ALL their bits in working order! I am confident that when he has recovered from it all he will be back with us and sporting some new hydraulic gadgetry on the handlebars that will allow him to stay free on two wheels, I look forward to your return Nick.

Magnum P.I AKA Andy Tennant

Andy Tennant and Colleen (G.I Jane) came in combats and matching purple tops to suit the 1500 they came on.Colleen was to have a moment later in the day on a bumpy road and became somewhat dishevelled. I’m sorry I missed it, its a good job I have a very colourful imagination!
Mick Gordge was back with us, minus Christine today so I resigned myself to standing behind him at every food stop of the day! One day Mick you are going to stay at home and complete Christine’s forgotten tiling. His German gay bar drinking partner Russ was with us as well on his 1800, minus Elaine as she was busy selling all the shit from his garage at a car boot sale. Mick and Evelyn came from somewhere over Leeds way on their 1800, Mick is a very handsome Irishman with a lovely shock of silver hair to die for, he reminded me of country and western singer Kenny Rogers.  Evelyn was a tiny bubbly lady and flashed the biggest smile of the day.
Mark and Chrissy sat on “Purple Pussy”…..a 1500, purple in colour and named as a gesture to his non Goldwing mates! Chrissy was showing off her Australian flag and looked a lot better than a couple of weeks ago when she was slain by flu. Oh, just one thing guys, don’t mention buzzing bees around her because it freaks her out OK?

Ah....Chrissy

Lynne and John of Sheffield were to bring smiles to our faces at their deft handling of the 1800 purple trike, although John’s eyesight is pretty shot these days it seems. He thought the spandexed woman on the cycle had a great ass…..only it wasn’t a woman, Now, everyone knows a mans ass looks like a potato whilst a womans ass is like a beautiful peach.
Old Geoff and Christine on their orange 1800 sat near Barry and Tina, Geoff was wearing a lurid orange shirt that strained against his body showing off his manly belly curve, it’s no good breathing in boy, we all have one! Christine however dressed more sensibly I might add.

No, this NOT Christine!

We waited a bit longer after the ten o’clock start for any who still might turn up, after all what’s another ten minutes between friends. If we were a proper club we could maybe impose a late arrival fixed penalty, but we’re not a club so we won’t. Two red 1500s from Trent Wings were the last to arrive. Enter Jean and Ian new riders escorted by Dean the Trent region rep. So folks that’s who the APPY WANDERERS were today, fifteen bikes in all, about to have a great time exploring the roads that criss crossed The Peak District National Park, before lunch at Matlock Bath
We posed for a hasty group photograph (because Christine hates posing), after which Barry asked for our attention and offered some important advice especially for folk who were not used to riding as a group, pointing out some basics and explained what was expected of everyone, it’s a darn good idea that we all sing off the same hymn sheet so to speak don’t you agree? Finally he points to me as “back door man” Some think he is being personal, but no it just means that I shall stay at the rear as Barrys’ eyes at junctions and traffic lights etc. After all chaps not even the great “Barry Bollox” can see the antics of all fifteen bikes all of the time!

Todays very APPY WANDERERS

It was time for the circus to leave town, waving Ali goodbye we topped up at the first garage down the road before setting off for the day’s adventure. Holmfirth was our first town, unfortunately we rode in from the North so missed the café made so famous from “The Last Of The Summer Wine”, we were soon through this little bottleneck and heading skyward up towards Holme Moss, sneaking looks over to our left we could see Winscar Res down below and the famous Emley Moor TV mast miles away to the east. It was a great sight, the weather was great too, just a few starched white clouds, tons of blue sky and warm rays from the sun.

Gordon leads "The Scribe" up out of Holmfirth

We dropped of the hillside and crossed over another reservoir before dropping down further, Glossop lies at the bottom of the hill, we turned left at the lights and started uphill again climbing steeply on Alpine practice roads, this was the A57, the famous Snake Pass, a bikers haven and old trunk road from Manchester to Hull and the ferry to the continent (Come Friday 19th June and we APPY WANDERERS will be on that ferry..yipeee!) We twisted and turned along the road heading towards Sheffield. I was sitting at the back staring at Gordens huge orange council light. Forty minutes into the ride I heard John on the trike directing Barry to our first tea stop at Derwent Dam.
It was not a surprise to find that there were no parking spaces whatsoever, so Barry had a word with one of the rangers who gave us the nod and we huddled into the coach park. Everyone defrocked and joined the queue behind our Mick  for tea and pasties.

Mick, our very own Artful Dodger

I was sitting quietly chilling with Christine as a couple of ducks plodded around our feet picking up scraps, when one of the little buggers jumped up and began snatching at my pastie. She knew no fear as my stare was met with dumb insolence…and another snatch at my pastie! I was thankful this damn duck had no teeth. Did you know these things are prone to heart attacks on take off, have homosexual tendencies and are into the odd gang rape.  I’m not making it up folks I read it in a newspaper article, hence I gave up the remains of my pastie.
Tina inspected the loos for the book and we all double checked them out before gathering at the bikes again.  We rode alongside both Derwent and Ladybower reservoirs. It was during the Second World War that huge four engine Avro Lancaster bombers practiced low flying along these dams, now then everyone, these dams are not exactly straight so looking down at the water below us it was hard to imagine these bombers with one hundred and two foot wingspans belting along at two hundred miles per hour whilst keeping it down to just sixty feet from the surface….at night! Did you know that a basic model with no bolt on extras or chrome would set you back a cool £45/50,000 back then? These days that would be over 1.3 MILLION squids!!!!
With the money in mind I quickley caught up with the rest in a bit of a sweat, we left the area and headed over the dams towards  Bamford and another set of piggin traffic lights, people didn’t two up at the lights so we didn’t get out as one group from the lights, but hey, it was a lazy Sunday rideout not a race, so no worries  (not like next week on the German adult autobahns..yipheee! )
Barry employed the drop off system a couple of times, using Old Geoff, because of our size and it worked well. We had other road users to contend with more as the day matured and people took to their tin boxes, some made light work of skipping around the vehicles whilst others didn’t. I committed to passing an old red sport car and progressed quickly up the side of it to find bikes in front braking suddenly dipping in quickly in front of the sports car to stop behind some of the guys on a slip way who had stopped to let us catch up. Muttering a few pit expletives I kept the throttle open grinning at the sports driver sitting a few feet down to my left, I kept the momentum going, passing quickly and safely but finding myself going from 15th to 5th in the pack in a Rossi style move. I guess the “sheep flock syndrome” had just kicked in and instead of moving along to clear the vehicles then reforming further along the road, some guys thought  “I must stop because I am supposed to be behind THAT red 1800”!! Oh well it certainly woke me up for a minute!

We closed up a little towards Chatsworth House as we crossed another cattle grid and drove through beautiful meadow land, the road got smaller, Chatsworth House nestled behind and to the left of us and we stopped at an old humpty backed bridge and more traffic lights, some of us pushed easily through the standing traffic passing obscene bulky 4x4s. Can anyone tell me why these things are used on perfectly smooth roads, why is it that some anal types can go from a saloon car to a fekkin five ton tank or worse, a bleeding plastic motorhome and presume they can drive it just as well. It really grips me…can you tell?
Well anyway, most of us wiggled along the little road and round the big fuck off blue tank before scarpering off down the road towards Matlock, Nick got round the 4×4’s no problem passing me with Brian and Janet who settled just in front of me. I saw Dean and Ian the two Trent bikers between the cars and the big blue tank about a hundred metres away I let Barry know up front. They were playing it steady as Ian and Jean only had their 1500 a few weeks and Dean was keeping him company, anyway Matlock was their playground so they knew the area well. Matlock was only about five miles down the road.

Matlock Bath shimmers in the midday sunshine

We wanted to park up in Matlock Bath amongst all the other bikers but we would need about fifty yards to ourselves, so we slowed looking for somewhere as Darren (Humungus) and Janet from Stoke came into view, their black 1800 glistened in the sunshine as they waved and took pictures, they suited up and followed us before joining us as we squatted into another coach space.  It’s really nice to meet you guys after chatting on the web a couple of weeks ago. Arriving at one’s destination is a nice feeling of achievement, (a bit like arriving on the continent on Saturday morning after a brill night on the ferry). We overloaded the ticket machine whilst some opened up bottomless bags and proceeded to picnic on the nearby grassy hillock, Mick Gordge looked a bit crestfallen as they ate first. We drifted off in small groups to soak up some sun and enjoy the company of bikers along the riverfront walk, a little group of us settled at a café and watched the world go by.

Beauty hath no age for our Mick and Evelyn.

To see the shapes sizes and colours of the ladies….sorry I mean bikes go by is just the beez kneez! I stood with Barry and Russ as three spluttering scooters cackled into life and three guys festooned in parka combat jackets and heay denim jackets toddled off down the road.

One of Toms mob

Then a real old beauty hove into view, it was a really old but pristine MotoGuzzi in military colours with an even older crusty looking enthusiast atop the Italian beast.
Darren and Janet joined us at the table with coffee, tea and milkshakes. These two had joined us all the way from Stoke, Darren is HUMUNGUS on the website, drop by and give him a pat on the back why don’t you? If we were a proper club we would have presented you with a tin mug or something as furthest travelled, but we’re not so, you will just have to make do with becoming APPY WANDERERS for the afternoon and friends for a lot longer! (Plus a mention in the log) I loved your black 1800 with just the right amount of chrome devilry stuck to it. I loved Janet’s smile too, it was infectious;

Smiles from Stoke..Lovely Janet

One couldn’t help but smile back. I bet you broke some hearts when you were eighteen years young, young lady!

APPY WANDERERS wandered up and down the pavement ogling at the fine machinery and the odds and sods in the shop windows. Barry stood us a round of ice creams just as a reincarnation of “Tank Girl” swayed by, dressed in tight pvc pants …just, check out the photo.

"Tank Girl" Laura sways for charity!

Laura was doing it for charity and swung her box rattling the coins, I waited for Tina and  my Julie to sway by too as they dipped in and out of the busy shops.  It was soon that time again so we inspected more loos before meeting up at the bikes at three as arranged.
We said our goodbyes to the Trent two, it’s always great meeting new folk, leap on the motorway and “pop” up for the next one guys…it gets better. The Stoke Rogues also bid us farewell and left after riding a few miles with us somewhere behind Matlock as we squirreled along a fab B road, we were sixteen bikes for a while now we dropped to thirteen, we got a fair spurt on as the cars, 4×4’s and chugging m****homes faded from view for a few minutes.

Clear roads smooth tarmac...beware "Biker Country"

We turned north passing Haddon Hall and Stanton-in-Peak, people stopped and stared as we interrupted their day briefly, kids waved, gents nodded and the ladies beamed, a dark haired lady with the most horrendous long GREEN dress waved and smiled as we passed, “Nice dress Missus!” I lied as we passed. Oh well it made her day!
We soon found the A6 and bounded on quickly in the direction of Buxton, hang gliders soared on warm thermals away to our right at the cliffs edge (We would see more of these guys next week in the Alps) Julie went click click click at anything and everthing with the camera, it all looked so green and inviting, it was a good job I wasn’t leading I would be stopping here there and everywhere! High above us a couple of ugly buzzards circled and enjoyed their Sunday too.
We arrived in Buxton and dribbled along the high street stopping at the several sets of traffic lights. We finally began to pair up at these stops and I started chatting to Tony from Wakefield about his new 1800, he’d bought it in Castleford, “Oh yes I know Castleford well, I’m originally from Normanton”.  “Aye I know Normanton well” he replied, “Oh? I’m actually from the village of Altofts to be exact” “Aye I know that as well” he repeats. The lights changed and we moved forward, for the first time today I really wanted the next lights to go red, I was intrigued about Tony all of a sudden!  “What school did you go to?” I shouted, he shouted back “Normanton Secondary Modern”. God only knows what the folk around thought as we chatted each other up on Buxton High Street whilst riding 1800 motorbikes! “Aye so did I, AND I was the Head Boy…how old are you then I shouted?” we both stared at each other for a second “I’m 50…you?” “I’m 51”, we sat looking at each other in disbelief. The lights went green and eleven goldwings disappeared from sight, we were oblivious as we struggled to remember names of classmates from nearly forty years ago. Julie sat bemused by this exchange. Tony my friend make sure you come on the next ride we have some history to catch up on ……especially Denise Thornton, Carol Arrol, and Gayle Machen, the first of many loves. We must compare notes!

Old Geoff looking good...shame about the shyte shirt though!

Back to the ride, we saw we were now on our own, I tapped Mistress Garmin, she rasped “take next exit right”, I hollered it to Tony now sitting just in front, we cut left and left the high street, we hit the burners catching the group in a minute or two, they were no wiser to our short trip back in time!
It was reservoir time again, passing close by Strines and Dale Dike Reservoirs, the road was nice and empty, everyone felt loose now and elongated the group, running along at a nice pace, we were about 800 metres long and really enjoying the back end of the day. The road began to tip and buck, we knocked a few notches off as the bumps got harsher, a right turn off the road caught the last three bikes out and we shot by, I saw Geoff and Christine briefly as we shot by having just managed to pass a bimbling Sunday driver in his huge road hogging silver tin box, we had to go a distance before finding a suitable place to do a U turn. First us then Tony and Gordon swung around and turned running after Geoff down the tiny road hidden by the long grass. We rode down a familiar road in the direction of Stocksbridge, were my pal Joe nearly kissed a stone brodge on his Virago 750 on one of his first outings on his bike!  We lost Russ as he turned off toward Halifax, we had said goodbye earlier to Lynne and John on their gafferless purple trike as they headed in the direction of Sheffield. Barry pulled over behind a truck at a stopping place for a break. Andy pulled out his flask as Geoff and Christine pulled out their bottomless black and presented Julie and I with a welcome  instant coffee, meanwhile “G.I Jane” secretly  pushed her bits back in place, the road was so bumpy that she and her underwear began to drift apart! we chatted a while commenting on a great day as the sun began to morph from a bright gold blazing spot  to a warm orange orb.
It was time to fragment again I shook hands patted backs gripped Barry in a friendly meaningful  manhug.

Who needs women when we have each other and the bikes!

I picked up the small ladies and bade farewell to them. “Until Friday then” we few said, to each other, promising not to be late on Friday at Hull docks, Did I mention that another group of APPY WANDERERS are going to the Alps for a two week adventure? Hence I’m sitting here burning the midnight oil in an effort to get the script ready for inserting into the site before we go.
Julie and I headed south on the M1 as the rest headed in the opposite direction, we sat silently on the motorway, I turned Mistress Garmin and the CB off and we reflected on a brilliant day in The Peak District over there in Derbyshire, wonderful roads, great views, friendly rogues, cheeky reprobates new pals and old geezers we followed gladly all day. Now we were cruising on our own, we left the M1 turning east on the M18 towards Doncaster. The sun was behind us now as we ticked off the miles towards home.
Hardy, Blue and Barney hardly cast a glance at us as they munched the sweet grass in that lazy way osses do. POOKA the three legged cat sat on the mat waiting for us on the steps and tapped her claws on the door blind, impatient for food…Home sweet home. She will have a longer wait on Friday, did I mention that we are going away for two weeks to the sun kissed Alps, taking in Holland Germany Austria Italy and Switzerland?…………
Tilateronthen
The Scribe

My luck was in, what a brilliant next few days Paul the weatherman had lined up for us, I had the off from work, I rang Barry and we agreed an impromptu ride for the forthcoming Sunday, we would use it as a research and development day for a future Appy Wanderers ride out. We agreed to head over in the general direction of Scarborough from SQUIRES CAFÉ using various back roads, we were going to give Mistress Garmin a run for her money and take her down some dark lanes!

“Shall we ask a few along who fancied a bit of excitement?” asks Barry. “ Aye Ok I’ll put a quick mention on the site tonight” says I as I rescue the first of several bottles of San Miguel from a frozen death in the fridge late on Friday night.

Sunday morning crept over the cool azure horizon before bursting into full bloom, it was soon caressing the garden fauna with rays of brilliant sunshine, all life turned east to face the life giving sun as it rose higher into the sky, Julie and I had to think what clothes to wear, like typical English people we packed a fleece and the wet suits …just in case!  Oh us of little faith I hear you chelp!

 We headed off towards SQUIRES CAFÉ for the 10.00 hrs meet. We rode through a quiet and empty Snaith zooming on towards Selby just a few minutes away, the roads were nice and free so we make excellent time, hooking a left on the by-pass heading towards Sherburn in short order,  we hung onto the shirt tails of a couple of pocket rockets on the last mile or two to the café. Bloody hell these guys were so slow they should have been driving motorhomes or something! We had no alternative but to pass them and I hung a leg out continental style saying “hello”. Shame on you boys!

We pulled into the busy café car park and chose a spot, I looked up to see Barry waving and was surprised to see a host of other Wingers sat with him, to be honest I only expected Tom and Michelle but they failed to show, rumour has it that they were out the night before with the  sc**ter boys club and  “over egged it” with the beverages…..Michelle! A bit of a shame that but in their place came Yorkies rep Tony and film star Hazel on their new 1500 Snott Gobblere, it is only one of two in England says he. Tony bless him, saw sense and sold Le rouge Baguette recently. Now, technically speaking the 1800 U.S trike and the 1500 are both breadvans. So if you fancy a sarni or a sticky bun you could still approach him, but don’t tell him I sent you will you? Jim and Zoe the ex Yorkies rep turned up for some fun today too which was a nice surprise. Micky the Mole was here again with that beautiful dark shiny hair of his, what shampoo do you use again Mick? From Wakefield Tony brought his wife on her second only ride. Nice one Tony, hooked is a word that springs to mind! Their black 1800 looked nice in the hot sun. Lynne and John sat on their purple pride and joy and were going to astound us with their filtering prowess, I have never seen a trike cut through traffic like they did on the A64 an hour later, Andy Tennant was here too on his gleaming red 1800, sat grinning amongst this lot was old Geoff and Chris, their golden 1800 shimmered as the morning rays passed over it.

10.30hrs soon came and we donned jackets and lids and picked our way through the parked bikes, onto the main road, zooming away under the bridge past the spot where Geoff and Chris kissed mother Earth thanks to some shyte new inferior cheap tarmac, hopefully they will sue the arse of the short sighted council.  So folks, that’s the line up for today APPY WANDERERS rideout to nowhere in particular.

Barry headed for the A64 York and eastwards, we took our spot at the back door. Just in front rode Tony and Hazel, the more I looked the more I liked the two toned puced up 1500.  We had three 1500s today so a liberal sprinkling of ribbing was showered on them! The air waves were busy with the good natured banter for quite a few miles. I think we were all smirking at the cut and thrust of comment and counter comment.

 We pulled onto the A64 at such a slow pace that an old 350 with two on, breezed past us  quickly followed by a hacking old 400 that took the Mickey just a bit too far. Enough was enough! Barry took us up to 70mph and we began to reel in the old pair.

It was somewhere along here that the traffic stopped, it was a typical Sunday on England’s main roads, there was a hot sun brilliant clear skies and piggin roadwork’s. Everyone and the ships cat were heading to Scarborough or so it seemed. This last roundabout is notorious as the start of the bottleneck, the two fast lanes head into the roundabout and exited on the other side as one slow lane; we picked our way through and exchanged pleasant chit chat with the families sitting in their tin boxes. it was like this for a mile up to the roundabout, everyone played nice today and moved over to let us through, save for one or two dickheads who took it upon themselves to try and halt our progress by pulling into our paths, people like this need to get out of the house a bit more often and get a life, what say you?

John became a very precise biker at this point and slipped through the traffic like a sheet of gossamer. From where I was sitting it was truly poetry in motion, the purple trike edged along the long line of tin box’s ever so sweetly like Southern Comfort slipping past ice cubes!

It was a few miles further on when we came across those two rattling 350 and 400’s again, we latched onto them before a hill slowed them, we purred by effortlessly leaving them chugging along fiercely in our wake. A road side café was our next stop for ten minutes before we turned off the busy A64 and headed toward Scarborough through the North Ridings Forest Park it was a pleasant mornings ride along these quiet lanes, we’d said goodbye to Tony and Hazel as they peeled away and headed towards Doncaster onto a pressing engagement.

Barry reminds us to meet up again in 2 hours!

We piled all our kit into the bikes and set off first for the loo’s then for a stroll along the front mixing with the rest of pale looking day trippers. The smell of the fish and chips soon got to me and we dived into a small chippie in spite of not feeling hungry only minutes earlier? I’m sure it’s a clever ploy to get us into their eating abodes. It was a really nice couple of hours in Scarborough I was thinking about my childhood days and remembered some of the amusement arcades that were still alive and well whilst dozen more had long gone and told a different story though. It’s funny how the bloody tat shops were still alive and kicking!

A sunny view of Scarborough harbour and lighthouse

When we returned back to the bikes 2 hours later we split into two groups and went our separate ways, four of us headed inland toward Pickering and Helmsley along some fine familiar swift roads, our speed tempered by warning signs and the presence of police on this hot summer Sunday cloaked or otherwise!

Barry and Geoff found an empty few miles and blew the cobwebs away whilst we stayed with Mick and brought up the rear. We were all having some good clean fun.

 We came upon an accident before too long just a few miles from Helmsley, it happened at a crossroads at the bottom of a rise and on a slight bend, police were there in numbers  an Air Ambulance sat in the nearby field, two motorbikes appeared to have been involved with one or more cars I’m not too sure how many, the fact that it happened at a crossroads suggests perhaps a car had pulled into the path of one or both of the bikes, I have no idea as to the condition of the people involved, there was enough help there already and the police waived us through. Ten minutes later we were in Helmsley and soon amongst the Sunday bikers licking ice creams sitting in the shade at the monument. Seeing a motorbike crash always makes one a bit quiet as one ponders the whys and wherefores, like one of us said, “We know what we do can be dangerous, we expect drivers not to look or think about bikes, so why the hell aren’t we LOOKING out for them”??  

It was late afternoon now and Julie and I split from our small group at the top of Helmsley, they headed toward Sutton bank, Thirsk and the A1 whilst we squirreled down the lovely B1257 taking in sleeping Hoveringham, Sheriff Hutton and Flaxton before joining the A64 for a few miles before turning off towards Selby, Snaith, Thorne and home to Hatfield, the sun was still glowing hot as we climbed off and pushed the now dusty bike into the garage, it had been a great day out to nowhere in particular, seeing friends old and new was always a pleasure, I didn’t take the camera as I wasn’t expecting anyone but I’m sure you get the picture by now eh?

I’ll be taking it on the Matlock trip so be sure to have on your best bib and tucker on! A big thank you to Mick for the two photos I have recently added to the story, I owe you a sticky bun my friend!

 Tilateronthen………………The Scribe

    
Today for us started at 07.30 as we mounted our shiny black 1800, we plugged in the intercom, I looked at the sky and didn’t trust what I was seeing to be honest. It promised rainy periods but instead it was strangely sunny and fringed with huge white clouds that moved along slowly, blown by a slight wind. No matter I thought, we have the wet gear in the back just in case. It took us less than an hour on quiet roads to get to Ripon, where we topped up after the sixty mile gallop from Doncaster. We now waited for fellow winger’s to arrive, Julie lit one up and meandered around the market square, I kept a suspicious eye on the white clouds moving along high above us, presently Deryck and Jan fromYork  arrived on their recent buy, a Honda Goldwing 1800 in a rich deep blue, and looking quite smart too. We exchanged greetings and checked the time; it was 08.30 hrs Sunday on the 10th of May 2009, high time to find a road to play on as Barry says. Julie climbed back on and we set off towards Skipton and to meet up with the rest of the Saga louts!

The Yokshire Dales, bathed in glorious sunshine

I let Mistress Garmin lead the way and she promptly led us the pretty way towards Pateley Bridge, Greenhow Hill and Grassington along the splendid  twisting turning B6265 and NOT down the fast straight A61/A59 as she was supposed to do! Oh bother we are going to be a bit late, no problem as Julie sent Barry a text awkwardly from the rear. As we bobbed along the pleasant small twisting roads Deryck got slower and slower, I slowed too, remembering that they had only owned the wing a few weeks I tried to think ahead, perhaps Skipton would not be the target now as time was against us. We will head in the direction of Kettlewell, perhaps Settle would be the new interception point. The problem was Jan, she was feeling ill and Deryck was trying to make it a smoother journey, meanwhile I was trying to coax him along a bit faster to catch the group! We stopped a while at Kettlewell to see if her tummy would settle. Unfortunately Jan had rushed her illness as she wanted so much to come along today but her tummy disagreed so they made a decision to go home back to York. I tried to ring Barry but couldn’t get a mobile signal here in Kettlewell. Drat and double bollox! Some appropriate pit language was directed at the piece of Nokia junk in my hand. For F***S SAKE! Will nothing go my way this morning?  Another text was despatched and I composed myself before plugging in. I told myself we were going in the same direction just at a slower pace and fifteen miles to the north of everyone else. I intended to rectify that now!
Julie velcroed her bum to the seat, I grinned a tad more and doubled back a mile to the fun run over to Arncliffe and past the cold and still Tarn of Malham, it’s a lovely run and devoid of cars and tourists it allowed me to make swift progress hollering “MINT! MINT! MINT!”  Sending the sleepy sheep scurrying off the road out of harm’s way. We dropped down the side of the hills into Settle finally joining the A65. We surged forward winging it fast up to Kirby Lonsdale, we sat behind a fast BMW tourer and enjoyed the swift transit towards the M6 nipping in and out of slow dreary Sunday traffic. This was tons better than sitting around indoors. My heart was pumping and my senses sharpened as we cut through the traffic, many of the cars pulled across to let us through, very VERY considerate drivers this morning I thought, we waived our thanks as we both passed, the Beemer pulled off at Devils Bridge and we waived to each other.  Right now on towards the motorway, We stopped to fuel up before entering the M6 and rang Barry, Tina answered that they were moving along somewhere ahead of us, I couldn’t hear where because the signal was breaking, I presumed we were not that far behind and piled on the coals as soon as we hit the M6  northwards.
After about twenty minutes as the motorway curved down and left I saw several thick black dots about a mile in the distance. “Aha there they are!” I called to Julie, the sun was now as high as my spirits, the M6 was sparse in traffic it was warming up and the clouds left us alone, the group were just minutes away now. As we closed I called out on the CB. Barry replied “What kept you?” More pit language emanated from me as I slotted into my spot at the back door. “All together at the back!” I called. Just then a huge yellow search and rescue helicopter swooped at us low and fast from the right, he passed over us. This scored a line underneath the end of “The tale of the missing man” (me).
The grey hazy clouds away in the east meant rain, lots of it, at one point it looked like a volcanic eruption, billowing along the skyline, the clouds and hills merged at one point. It appears our Lord God Honda had done a deal with Paul the Weatherman today and was keeping us dry! We pulled into the next filling station for fuel, water and munchies; we kissed familiar faces and greeted new ones. So, you ask who were the “Appy Wanderers” today then?
First we have Blake obviously a male model, he was tall, dark and handsome damn him! 

Blake, the male model

His girl Paula grinned hugely from behind dark glasses, they hailed from the direction of Leeds on their plain silver 1800, next to them Tony and his lover from my home town Wakefield on a black 1800,

Alan and Chris with their 1800 trike

Alan and Chris nodded as they sat nearby on their 1800 grey trike. Ian and Adrianne on the blue mature 1500 breadvan, along with “The Bunny People” on theirs, they were the only 1500s with us today. Geoff and Chris on their glowing golden 1800 made this their second Sunday out with us, Geoff is quite old but fun to be around, wife Chris is nice and a lot younger. Michelle was feeling a lot better today her flu passed onto someone else, hubbi Tom “Scooter boy” sat provocatively on his chromed, shiny new black 1800, he looked splendid in camo scooter gear and Darth Vadar lid,

Tom AKA Darth Vadar AKA Scooterboy

Michelle minus the flu

no wonder our Barry fancies him. Elaine and Russ were here with their proper bike, a dark red 1800, their original breadvan no longer their chariot of choice. Derek and Heather stood at the end leaning on their red 1800 grinning from ear to ear as insults passed between Barry and me as per usual. Oh yes and Tina came too! Looking lovely as usual with her bright silver Martians helmet firmly nailed to her head “to keep the wind out” she always says. All the same I’d like to see here trying to turn around in the loo! I just hope the operation to remove the little lump from her knee, would also cure her of her swinging box problem?

Im STILL not satisfied Tina tells Elaine!

Everyone looked happy and sounded full of beans; we were all up for it and looking forward to the rideout, so glad to be outdoors letting the wind and sun play over us and not sitting indoors painting, watching TV or discussing the price of fish with a show of hands! We were soon to gel into a group of friends quickly becoming “Appy Wanderers” with no rules or membership criteria in site!
Barry calls time on us and we don helmets and hop over for fuel before heading off north towards Carlisle on the M6, once there we turned off and headed east towards the Northumberland National Park, skirting along the edge of it as bustling white clouds gathered away to the right making the skyline quite spectacular, the gray cold hazy wet stuff nowhere in sight for the moment. Barry took a detour as he and Mistress Garmin argue! I know exactly how he feels; I suspect more and more people do these days eh? Nobody moans, Mistress Garmin is both brilliant and fallible but needs to be kept in check. We pulled into Birdoswald for a tea stop and a bum scratch. It’s a really well maintained place to visit, hot food and drink can be purchased, there’s lots of information and it’s a visually stimulating place, I’m told it is one of the World Heritage Sites. Its in the grounds of ruins once belonging to those Italian sandaled skirt wearing warriors of long ago. In spite of that we have a lot to thank the Romans for…oh aye, and a ruddy great wall to keep those uncouth skirt wearing savages from up north out. I guess the English public wasn’t ready for too many blokes in skirts in those early days.

Bring on the boys and their skirts!

We sat in a nice sun trap drinking tea and telling stories, Adrianne stroked her flask as she recounted a tale or two! The cameras came out, Ian and Russ clicked away, as we larked around.

3 "Romans" arrive on the scene

We strolled back to the bikes as a group of tourists got back onto their coach having swarmed over our bikes earlier taking dozens of photos. A crowd of sheep slowly made their way along the road so we waited a while, two pocket rockets took one look at the blockage and decided to sit it out with us, the two young lads looked us over and marvelled at all the bloody buttons we had at our disposal, Tom still marvels at this too! Whereas old Geoff has progressed a bit and ties a bit of string to the most important knobs, I just twiddle all of them until I get the desired effect whilst trying not to look too puzzled, I still can’t find the reclining back rest knob yet though.
The sheep had gone now so off we went along the super straight roller coasting B6318, up and down we went as rise turned to dip for the next few miles. Northumberland looks beautiful in the bright sunshine, rolling hills and the remains of Hadrian’s wall away to our left, stayed with us for miles,

Geoff and Chris wave and ride at the same time

we soon came across THE tree, did you see it guys? It’s famous in the opening scene to Robin Hood Prince of Thieves (Kevin Costner’s true version) where he and Morgan Freeman saved a thieving little English oik from meeting his maker at the hands of the Sheriffs men, do you remember?
We turned away south a few miles ahead and neared Langley Castle as we met yet another crowd of sheep on our road, again we stopped a few minutes, two minutes later we arrived at our destination Langley Castle for tea and scones. The castle looked a wonderful sight as we drove uphill along the swish drive before parking just outside the huge wooden vestibule. Everyone probably felt as Barry and I felt when we first arrived here a while ago, it’s really nice knowing everyone is in for a nice surprise as they surley were. It was nearly 14.00hrs and the sun made it all a breathtaking sight, much better here than at a regional meeting for sure!
Langley Castle is now owned and been renovated and furnished by an American, he (unusually) didn’t take it home to Texas, instead he has refurbished it in keeping with the period, they are improving other parts as we speak and can be viewed on FACEBOOK if you care to search and look. It’s hired it out for weddings, functions and promotions, you can also spend a few nights there if you have a bottomless wallet!
Langley Castle was built in 1350 and passed through the gentry several times, the last owners losing their heads in the Jackobite uprising.  The castle then passed into the hands of the British Admiralty for a while would you believe? It was rebuilt in the late 1800s by a local historian and his wife; they now lay peacefully in the castle grounds.
We poured into the second floor depositing bike gear, we sank into huge lavish seats, all the walls were adorned with huge carpets, and big paintings, suits of armour flanked the doors and the fireplace was so big you could easily park a Harley in it (and burn it).

Lord Blake of Leeds with some of his ladies

Blake chose a Kingly wooden throne, with delicate carvings, some of the ladies flocked around and posed for photographs and strangely Blake didn’t look out of place, (male model?). A visit to the roof top chapel and the stunning views was offered by the staff, what a glorious day to go upstairs for the magnificent views. Having previously been on the roof Julie and I decided to sit outside on the lawn and soaked up the sun. Eventually everyone came together again and posed by their bikes in a long line with the castle as the backdrop.

Appy Wanderers at Langley Castle

we really enjoyed ourselves, photos done we gathered ourselves for our next leg of the ride.
We next headed towards Allendale along the ridge line, above the river we rode passing through the funny sounding places of Dirt Pot and Allenheads.

Dancing in the sunshine on fine Northumberland roads

We passed by disused slate workings and some magnificent slate gray dwellings etched in the high hillside to our left, what great views they must have had. Finally we crossed the river and headed southward towards Barnard Castle.  The rain clouds now sat in front of us a dozen or so miles away, the temperature dropped and the roads turned wet, we could see the heavy showers drenching the fields to the left and right of us. Luckily we turned away and passed through a damp Barnard Castle, turning right after the bridge and lights heading towards Tan Hill.  We passed through a known “Killing Ground”, on a previous ride one of us managed to kill an innocent pheasant that was at the side of the road minding its own business, the first we all knew about it was when we rode through a hail of bloodied feathers! We might not know who killed cock robin but we know who killed the poor bloody pheasant, right Barry? The weather looked kindly on us again and turned warm the sun returned and evaporated the damp roads.
We rode over some interesting little roads at a steady pace nearing Tan Hill. Another turn ahead though and we headed toward the CB Public House where we pulled over into the car park for the last refreshments of the day. Tina used the loos noting its particulars for her book, some went for a cuppa or a half shandy, others stood around wondering just where the hell they were.

Big Derek ponder on his whereabouts

It really is beautiful around these parts but not many maps show such small detail except for the nearby village of Reeth,

The CB public house near Tan Hill

Brent and some of his ladies tried to find it on a normal map but couldn’t. Leyburn was our final destination as a group and just a short ride away, we parked up for five minutes in Leyburn square on the cobbles, this time Michelle went to the loo, I saw her convey the information to Tina.  We said our goodbyes to each other before parting company. I for one felt enriched by another fantastic day on the bike meeting more nice people and seeing old friends again. We patted, prodded and kissed goodbye, promising to meet up again soon.  Some headed off toward Harrogate for a meal, others headed home to Leeds, others to Keighley, Julie and I turned east to hit the A1 at Leeming Bar before heading south to Doncaster an hour away.
There was a warm glow in the early evening air as we went about our way in peace and quiet, no chit chat on the CB, just the pair of us reflecting quietly on the day. We were to complete 350 miles including our early morning detour by the time we got home. The sky now began to change as the weather front high above drew a definite line in the sky, it was clear blue to the north, from the south stretched a thick dark blue blanket of cloud which hung from east to west as far as the eye could see, almost like a stage curtain closing down the day, the longest day.
Tilateronthen
                          The Scribe.

         
It was a glorious sunny Sunday morning on 25th May 09 as Julie and I arrived in Ripon, not a cloud in the sky and warming up nicely thank you! We basked in the early sun and waited for rest to arrive.

Lynne plugs into the day

Lynne and John came first on their purple trike, Lynne was very excited today because we were going up to Hartlepool to see the “monkey hangers” and visit those colourful characters who speak in that wonderful sing song accent “Wayaye man, ya knaaw wat a meen”?
Barry and Tina followed a minute later with Russ, Tom and Michelle.  Barry was smiling and laughing as he landed as usual,he was fired up already! Today was going to be another fun day I could sense it, no stress, no arguments no politics, just a group of friends doing what we like to do, ride bikes.
Today was to bea funny formation too, 5 then 7 then 5 then 6 then 5!  (Read on you must) At 09.45 hrs it was 5…..4 solo’s and 1 trike all of the 1800 variaty, 2 black, 2 red and 1 purple, all sleak, smooth and beautiful with lovely womanly curves. Today we will be getting a bit of a wiggle on me thinks!
The obligitory five minutes of muck slinging and rib taking took place between the alledged grown ups, isn’t it funny how the closer the friendships are, the more descriptive the greetings become? Today would be a plus too, we would all get a fair crack at the far off ice cream parlours as Mick Gordge put in a “no show”.
It was time to prise the prospective biker bird off  “Purple Amethyst”  and send her on her way as we donned lids and zipped jackets, Engines purred quietly into life, (no 1500’s today so no barking coughs in evidence). 

Leaving Ripon market square

 We pulled from the square and headed off toward Thirsk waiving goodbye to the “hoiked off” lady and her hubbie. “I want one I want one! she burbled at hubbi, who nodded quietly in agreement.
In no time we slipped onto the smooth A19 northwards towards Middlesborough and our destination at Hartlepool a few miles to the north. I sat at the back as

Tom and Michelle on their new ride

“The Sweeper” eyeing up Toms new black 1800, Russ sat behind the gleaming “Purple Amethyst” which in turn sat behind Barry as he and Mistress Garmin ordered us northwards. We skirted Middlesborough, Julie picked out some familiar sites from her native city, over to the right we could see the Transporter Bridge in its light blue lattice structure looking very regal, easily the most beautiful structure amongst the surrounding square boring grey carbunckles that made up the city skyline.
A police motocycle cop latched onto us and pulled up at the side of Tom when we stopped at some traffic lights. The cop was obviously drawn to Tom because he was dressed in a matt black Darth Vadar helmet, camo jacket, jeans and cherry red Doc Martins with a split in them. Cop…”where are you all going then?”  Tom…”What? Hang on, let me turn me music down..fumbling for the switch somewhere on the dashboard, Cop…..”I said WHERE are you going?” Tom replies through Darth Vadar helmet ”Oh er, we are all going to a museum” Cop… stares at Tom as if hearing a fib blinks then says..”Er right then, am gannin doon this other road now, bye bye” Well confused he was!

So, you ride bikes then Tom?

Our destination hove into view as we threaded our way through the new roadways and roundabouts before performing a combat turn (360 on a roundabout) to land in fine order amongst a huge classic car show in the car park of the Hartlepool Maritime museum.  Our bemused bike cop turned up as we unplugged and unhooked, we smiled and

Let me tell you about my OTHER bike

nodded at each other.
Now then folks, I’m not a car person as you know, I don’t own a driving license even, but the cars on show here were beautiful and showed just how bland and boring the cars are these days, lime green Corsairs with tail fins, and go faster cheat lines in chrome Ooer! Cortinas, Zephers even a piggin Datsun or two! Yellows, greens powder blues and lush red paint schemes. Barry was having a throb as he set his eyes on an old “Landi” What the hell is a landing? I ventured but he was gone, drawn

What do you mean OTHER bike?

dribbling towards it. This was a magical

special wonderful gathering, of old cars, memories of my childhood came back and the days of cruising with my Dad on Sundays, first in an old blue Austin A90 then a huge off grey Austin Cambridge, he changed it for a little Austin 1100 cos Mum hated climbing up into the Cambridge. They were brilliant day’s I’ll never forget them, perhaps that’s why I get excited at our Sunday rideouts with me new dad Barry?
Barry then led us to the foyer and todays cut price entry, it’s a fine day indeed as we saved a few more pennies, remember

folks its not the money! Tina led the girls on a tour around the toilets no doubt noting another entry in her notepad for her Bogs and Bidays of Europe book due out upon her retirement….I’m hoping to get mine signed!
The museum is extensive, the largest exhibit being the HMS Trimcomalee, the oldest British warship in the Uk built way back in 1817, it was brought to Hartlepool in 1987 and took ten years plus a huge amount of money to restore.

HMS Trimcomlee

 The guide on board answered all questions, even showing Tina the toilets on the bows (Tina scribbles madly in her notebook). The captain had his own private toilet down below. It was a curious and interesting time going up and down the decks.

The Captains table

The Captains table was a proper masterpiece to see. Some odd facts were shared with us, did you know for example that they carried on board goats, chickens, pigs and such for eating and that if suddenly they came upon an enamy ship all the animals were thrown overboard the reasoning was that in a cannon fight the animals might run amock on the decks in a panic!

Gary the goat with Julie

An image flashed before me, imagine the poor lookout who shouts down “Enemy ship on the port bow”, only to follow minutes later with…..”Erm sorry guys, false alarm, it’s one of ours…..Hey why are you all looking at me like that”?
It was soon time to get back to the bikes, Steve and Jane had rung earlier to say they were on their way from Scotch Corner so we headed off to greet them in the car park, sitting there too was Jimbo and Susan, they had come down from Redcar to join up with us, we had increased to 7 bikes now! Steve and Jane have this habit in 09 of appearing from Scotland for a couple of minutes then scooting back northwards, I think they are taking “Ostrisyzation” to a new level!
I’d suggested to Barry about going across the Middlesborough Transporter Bridge and a route was picked using Garmin, however Jimbo agreed to come with us on the back roads to the Transporter Bridge, brilliant, you can’t beat some local input. Barry handed over the captains hat for an hour as we readied ourselves, we said goodbye all too quickly to Steve and Jane, until June as that is and the start of our European Tour of 09.

Winding our way to the bridge

Jimbo picked his way through some lonely industial back roads towards the bridge, performing a U turn here and there as roads appeared to be shut, Mistress Garmin was “umming and arring” at these road closures so THANKS YOU VERY MUCH Jimbo for leading the way for this part of the ride.

Jimbo leads the way

The bridge is worth a mention so here goes.
The Middlesbotough Transporter Bridge was built in 1911 and is 850 feet long and 225 feet high it carries a small section of road suspended on cables and pullies to and fro across the river Tees (Take note our Barry) in 90 seconds, it can carry a total of 200 people or 9 cars. It is one of two working examples in the world, the other runs over the River Usk (Take note again our Barry) at Newport in South Wales, that’s a Grade I whilst this one is a grade II listed building. It has been in several films including the last series of “Auf Wiederesehen Pet” in which it was dismanteled and rebuilt in the USA, so good was the series that the BBC had to put out a special announcement that the bridge was still alive and working here in Middlesborough!  It was well worth the 60p per bike to indulge in a bit of British Heritage.

Barry can hardly hold it together!

We cruised quickly through the quiet city centre heading out towards Stokesley onto the B1257 down to Helmsley zooming between the green valleys of the Cleveland Hills and into Bedale. I wonder if anybody else spotted that green telephone box on the right near Fangdale Beck?
It’s a great ride on this road, its very smooth, silky, curvy and used by lots of bikers on Sundays, I love to ride it midweek when its even quieter and empty of those busy little “pocket rockets” piloted by would be Rossi’s and old men who should know better! This road is mostly devoid of houses, people, cats and dogs and old ladies lying in wait, there’s not a great deal of traffic that uses it, mainly local, every one else uses the nearby A19 and A1. We upped the pace a tad and really enjoyed the road, the brutish “Purple Amethyst” began to pull a lead on Russ as he hacked away behind, John and Lynne were really enjoying their new wheels, it was quite impressive to see it hugging the tarmac, they bounded along soundly as the gap between them and Russ seemed to increase, I never thought I’d see a trike do that!
The clouds began to gather now in the afternoon as we jogged briskley along before stopping for lunch in the market square of Hemlsey,

Fast roads towards Helmsley

more friends joined us now as the white wing of “Two Dabs and Lorraine two RR’s” arrived from the Pickering direction. Now we were up to 7 bikes, even though it was getting on for late afternoon there were still a large gathering of bikes in the square. Colourful leathered bikers mixed with the green tweed and thick brown wrinky tights of the local nobs, the old guys pointed and asked questions and regaled us about their youth on old British bikes in golden days of old. We chatted and mooched for a while before hitting the road again but not before thanking Jimbo and Susan again, we said goobye and thanks to both as  we 6 bikes left the square.
We headed up the hill past Duncombe Park and the site of the famous Farmyard Party held every summer by MAG Yorkshire. We made swift progress up the empty hill and rode towards Sutton Bank, “Two Dabs and Lorraine 2RR’s” waived goodbye as their “Snow princess” curved left onto the wriggly road towards Sherrif Hutton and York on little exciting B roads, we on the other hand  headed on westward toward Thirsk, and the dipping sun. Dropping down off the table top that is Sutton Bank we twisted slowly down the side of the hill, the far away views were fantastic, even in this late afternoon as the warm orange sun began to melt into the distant hills it’s job done for another day.
Thirsk was our last tea stop, we had really enjoyed todays rideout, we giggled and laughed at the fun we had just like that bunch of school kids after a great day out in the woods. Do you realise how few muscles you use just to smile as opposed to all those you use to project frowns and disdain? The weather was brilliant, the company good and the marvelous way others breezed in and out of our day was quite satisfying, it was almost a rideout visiting friends and family.  Jimbo and wife have already said they will see us on the next rideout for tea and scones at Langley Castle, are you coming too?
Lateronthen folks……………………………….The SCRIBE

LEATHERS or GORTEX?

“Leathers or Gortex darling”? That was the first thought of the day as we drew back the curtains and looked at the sky. Best not get carried away with ourselves in the excitement I guess so Gortex it was to be!

At 0835 hrs Sunday March 22nd we were galloping north up the A1 from Doncaster, heading to Ripley and the start of the first ride out of 2009. That old trailer in the field had a new lick of white paint but the invite from God wasn’t there now. “Ha! He finally got the message I wasn’t ready then” I said to Julie nodding in its direction. It was a crispy cloudy morning with tons of white, grey clouds as far as the eye could see, but most of all it was dry so a good day beckoned, I wondered how many might come today six, eight of even a dozen maybe? A good day was on the cards no matter what the number. I gave the Mistress Garmin a tap and she answers “Go straight ahead for 20 miles then exit left” in a commanding American drawl, OK honey I reply!

We pulled onto the cobbled area in the middle of Ripley by the Boars Head hotel at 0935 hrs saying hello to the lonely Yamaha FJ man sitting on the stone steps, he was waiting to meet his girl and they were going up to Grassington for the day, a black 15 and 1800 did a drive bye, Hmm! Gone for petrol maybe? A dull coloured 1500 trike was our first companion to pull up ridden by Dave Fryat and his missus followed quickly by two, three and more bikes,

The first gathering of 2009 in Ripley

then Barry and Tina arrived from the start point at Keighley with more wings. Seventeen bikes in all turned up, what a great day it was going to be! Folk parked up amongst the Jags and Beemers, neatly manicured older posh people from the hotel in green tweed looked at us pretending not to be too impressed as they put their designer cases in their car boots.

The lovely Andrea from darkest Lancashire

New faces came and said hello, “Hello Dave I’m Scooter boy” said Tom from Keighley, Michelle smiled from behind, Dave and Lynn from Skipton, two proper suverners from darn sarf smiled and nodded, guys arrived from the dark side of England (that’s Lancashire to you and me) Sir Cattle Grid and windswept wifey Denise on their white (not for long) 1800. Denise looked beautiful as usual in her multilayer sheep outfit and matching pink boots. They brought Malc and grinning Andrea, George an Mildred came too…sorry I mean birthday girl Carole. Geoff and Chris had a new gold 1800, having recently thrown the last one down the road at Squires Cafe in Sherburn, A new road surface is not always a blessing and questions are raised at the oily residue, on this occasion the police are on our side. Old familiar retards showed up too, like top bloke Mick Gordge who was looking suspiciously young today, your hair looks really good today Mick, any thoughts anyone? He left Christine in the shower, I wondered if she noticed he’d gone yet? Meanwhile Adrienne took some of the ladies for a quick stroll to the nearby looooos, leaving Ian womanless for a few minutes.

Ian chats with Triker Dave Fryat

He amused us with his frog, cockerel and moo cow noises. The higher echelons of the Yorkshire Wings branch appeared namely reps 1 and 2 Tony Walton and Roger Morgan, Club moneyman

Duffy strikes a manly pose for Babe Denise

Dave an Julia Duffy pulled up on their stripy trike, Hazel the movie star graced us again and provided kisses.  there too was Gordon, an affable pipe smoking character riding an orangey 1500 with huge flashing council light fixed to the top box, he says this is going to be helpful in the forthcoming 24 hr challenge, meaning he would be helping broken bikers, I think Gordon is probably one of those really nice chaps, unassuming, quiet, courteous and damn handy to have around! These gatherings are always noisy and friendly, no politics, no bollox just fun and frivolity! Barry takes centre stage and gets attention barking through his unlit roll up, half the village hears him too as he kindly reminds everyone what’s what and that we are on 15 for CB’ers.

You can tell its Sunday as the local Battenberg vile wagon pulled into its hidden hole and the faceless official sets up his speed camera, ready to collect revenue for the council robber barons, probably hundreds of these vile vans do the same the length and breadth of the UK intent on cashing in, in the “interest of road safety” every Sunday. He gets a wave and smile all the same as we leave Ripley, he is still a bloke after all.

Off we go then, exit stage left and left again at the first roundabout, I look round to make sure everyone has got away OK and call to Barry half a mile away “Everybody out Barry” Before scurrying along quickly to catch the £360,000 pack of Goldwings solo’s and trikes. The day was ours to enjoy!

Following Geoff and Chris towards Leighton res

We cruised along towards Pateley Bridge, turning off to follow a nice dry twisting B road as it hugged the shoreline of Gouthwaite Reservour, the water was a rich blue today with wispy white horses as the wind whipped the tops, we banked left and right along the narrow road and gave the walkers a quick show as we passed close by. “Not much chance of getting a campervan up here” I chuckled to Julie and hoping some Sunday cretin wasn’t trying to do just that! The Druids Temple soon came into view away to our right slowly changing shape as we passed. I saw a vehicle had stopped at the bridge we were crossing and ten bikes were stood as the lead bike waived this him to come across, You guessed it, it was a bloody campervan and the man had stopped right on the bend to the bridge, people just don’t think sometimes do they? We waited as he crept slowly across the bridge, brrrr! I’m glad I didn’t put leathers on today, the biting wind was making my eyes water, we would be going higher later so it would get colder for sure, we were still grinning like Cheshire cats in spite of the cold!

We took a sharp right off the road and climbed high, negotiating some Stelvio type bends leaving the water far away to our right, it was noticed that someone was missing the chatter on the CB intimated that Dave and Julia had missed the sharp right….inspite of a wing sitting there as an indicator! Can anyone out there shed any light on their whereabouts or what happened? I have pinged an email to them but have not heard a thing; maybe they have been abducted by aliens in a really big spaceship?

Just about the only rule we have on ride outs is that it’s up to EVERYONE to keep up. This is stated frequently and was mentioned again before the ride out, part of my job as back marker is to report any gaps I see to the lead bike, a large gap was materializing in the first twenty minutes of the ride out as we weaved along the waters, I called Barry and we decided to sort it quickly when the conditions allowed. A problem with either the bike or the rider can usually be fixed, and well to be honest if you’re THAT bad a rider, why aren’t you driving a Volvo or summat? The gap today was sorted easily by putting the trikes up behind the lead bike. OK soapbox moment over and back to the story…..

The haunting ruins of Jevaulx passed away to our right as we dropped down onto the main road to Leyburn.  Julie missed the photo opportunity of the narrow stone bride again.  Its an unusual narrow stone bridge worthy of a photograph, my fault I should have called out but I was preoccupied wondering if Hazel would be able to coax old Tony across on their French Trike, Oh by the way did you know it’s called “La Rouge Baguette Bin” on account of it being able to hold dozens of French sticks in its unusually wide boot!

La Rouge Baguette Bin cometh

Wondeful windy views

Next came the windy tank road, the red flags were out, no days off for our virgin soldiers, they need all the practice they can get before flying out to the war zones in the east. The wind really tore at us here and my eyes streamed buckets. If I wasn’t before, I was convinced now that we had the right kit on! We dropped down off the skyline and out of the blasted wind for now heading straight through Layburn, several racehorses stood with their riders as we passed, Yet another remainder of our dear old JAFFA, he died suddenly a few days ago, thirteen years of looking into our kitchen and now he has gone, hard times for us at the moment I’m afraid. We passed through Reeth, giving Tan Hill a miss today, a good thing because we would have been blown all the way to Timbuktu! Instead we ran along the valley of Arkengarthdale, and a quick stop for the girls to inspect the nearby pub toilet, some of the guys did the man thing and pissed in the ditch!! I waited to see if Denise would go to the loo and sniggered at the thought of her ripping layer after layer off as the trickle started, and the girls putting her back together again, that was ever so funny watching last time! Speaking of trickle the coming waterfalls were not half as busy as last week, Barry and I came this way last week doing some research for today, snow lay on the frozen land, and peaty brown water gushed in mighty splendour down the waterfalls, we pulled over and stood in inches of snow looking around, the bike tyres covered in brown slush, I forgot the camera so you will just have to trust my description. Instead today it was blowing a cold wind the land was rich in greens and browns. The cheap six inch tall safety (my arse) catch fence allowed us to peer down the gorge it was magnificent, thank god this bit of road was straight! Across the valley an ancient giant had ripped the ground open with his huge claws and left deep dark green gashes that held ones gaze,

The giants claw marks

mesmerized one even…..roughly grabbed kidneys from behind however signified a bend ahead! The road brings one back to reality quickly. Frequently I saw couples slow and peer down to the left and right, their bike suddenly slowing and weaving in the tell tale fashion of a biker trying to look in two directions at the same time, its that strange phenomenon of wherever the biker looks the bike wants to go, great on the racetrack, but shyte on these B roads! In the distance we could see the flat topped mountains with fine sounding Northern names, so far away that the colours faded to hues of purples and blues, we saw also the twisting silvery thread of our road as it crested another range of hills. Somewhere, in the folds out of site lay the bike haven of Hawes and lunch. On we went along the tops dropping down again passing through dirty sounding Muker and Swaledale, sweeping up again along the Buttertubs and down again into Hawes.

We were in such a big group that parking along the High Street was out of the question, Barry led us up a hill a while to a car park, that we promptly filled! The walk back served to ease stiff joints…and massaged stiff bums.

two stiff ladies

I kept pace with Mick The Food Meister all the way to the chippie, homemade meat pie was bought with chips and gravy, so unhealthy but so bloody scrumchious,

Tony finally gets his fish

Barry chose the healthy option and had a fish buttie. Tina got stuck in the chippie, her collapsible coffin handbag got caught in the door frame, and her big fuckoff bag buckle snagged someone’s arse! If it’s not your big bag it’s your dropped box eh Tina? We milled around outside like proper greasy bikers and hogged the pavement, across the road at The Penny Garth Café every corner was taken as bikers consumed tea and chips, a group of Satan Slaves stood amongst the bikes, their prominent leather patchwork caught my eye. It’s a good day to ride the bike, rather than sit indoors in a car or bloody motor home!! The Satan Slaves are indeed proper bikers just like the rest of us.

Time to move on again, we left two bikes to catch up later, they were in a café down the road and hadn’t been served, the problem was that Mr Crabbe ordered lots of food I have been informed by one of my snouts. The rest of us exited left out of the car park and climbed the ridge bumping along the narrow tarmac to disappear down the other side into Langstrothdale Chase, did you notice the fabulously shaped twisted trees? Yes folks it was my turn to try looking in two directions at once! We joined a real road a little after and rode through Buckden, Starbottom and pulled over at Kettlewell for tea and creamy scones,

Sir Cattle Grid savours dinner

I was STILL on the road and saw Mick Gordge disappear into the café. The Food Meister strikes again, that’s my boy! The scones here are wonderful and still warm, you get a pot of tea, a huge scone, tub of cream and glass pot of jam, its free too  if you sit next to Barry that is.……Its not the money! Nigel snaffled two giant ice creams and a tin of Shandy, last night he was on the lash with Malc and Andrea, Malc looked a bit rough but I’d put that down to the ugly tree! It was a grand thirty minutes of cream scoffing I’ve had in a long time, spoilt only by “Scooterboy” flashing his bloody Scooter T shirt. Michelle darling can you make sure he brings none of them to Austria in June or I’ll make him drink his beer with a poncy umbrella in it! Carole and Denise sat drinking tea in a corner, they looked a bit “Pikeyesque” with red rosy cheeks windswept hair dishevelled attire and devil-may-care shrugs, aren’t Sundays just wonderful?

We said our goodbyes to George and Mildred…..I mean Carole, we pulled out of the car park after Roger on his gritty 1500, I could see he was smiling hugely, as we headed skywards again his stereo was belting out some 60’s number and his head was giving it some serious nods!

Roger Morgan passes sleeping sheep

This tiny road was seriously fun, narrow and had a camber to sue for! Getting up to it we picked our way through Kettlewell village and up some more serious Stelvio bends, once again we found ourselves on the ridgeline in the cold wind. Coverdale was covered in blue grey slate which in turn was covered in new green grass shoots, sheep crowded into a hopper full of food, others sat around as Roger showed them his underside as he passed just a couple of feet away.

This was our last ridge of the day, we dropped down again and snaked our way to Ripon along the A6108, this is the road Barry and I scorch on our play days heading into North Yorkshire (our playground) after a bacon baguette breakfast in Ripon Square. The quiet of Sunday afternoon in Ripon square was broken by the arrival of fifteen bikes and fifteen different soundtracks. Folk came across to the free bike show,

Our Barry placates the local law

we chatted with friends old and new before heading towards the A1 and back down to Doncaster. It has been a great day out on the bike and can’t wait for the next one!

I have had an Email from Dave Duffy whilst writing this; he says Julia began to feel unwell along the way so he took her home. So I apologize to the aliens, you guys always get the blame don’t you?

Tilateronthen

The Scribe

The ride out season kicked into life today with a rideout of a diferent kind, it wasnt strictly an Appy Wanderers rideout however I thought that quite a few members turned up to warrant a writeup

 It all began when Greg posted on the Steve Saunders brilliant Goldwing web site a few weeks ago asking if  a few Goldwings could possibly turn up one Sunday morning and perhaps take wifey Christine for a short spin as a thank you for being a very very special /wonderful/ loving/  and an absolute brick of a wife. She just happens to love Honda Goldwings so this would be a great gift.

Up to the plate  steps David aka  ”Tanygaer” from Rhosgadfan in darkest Wales look you, and Pete aka “Siverfox” from even darker Croydon in sarf  London innit? These two guys took up the challange and stated it had to be done, they too asked on the site if anyone could help, four or five  thought it a good idea and are the first to respond..me being amongst them. During the following few days things snowballed so fast it took everyones breath away. I was mega busy at work with an Inspectorate report so much so that all the while I wasnt aware of its rapid growth. Word had spreadreally quickley and wingers reached for dusty bike keys, salivating at the thought of a ride out so early in the year. Even across the water to the USA people were keeping tabs and getting excited, quite a few guys donating a few $ towards it, through the site, you must have a look folks its areally interesting  and FREE site and has worldwide membership, you know me its not the money, its free.

It was only on Saturday afternoon yesterday during a casual  phone call to Barry asking if he was still up for the little jaunt on Sunday morning that I was told about the pace of the event……hence my very VERY  late post to alert you guys on our website.

Sneaking into Rotherham

Sunday morning at 09.00 saw a large gathering  of 36 Honda Goldwings of all marks. 1000, 1100 Interstates, 1500 bread vans, 1800cc racehorses  some two wheels,others of the three wheeled variaty, Tony Walton with his new American/French bakery van with boot especially shaped to accomodate dozens of French loafs. Lynne and John on their brand spanker 1800 in naughty purple, a guy from East Yorkshire way on a really old home built black goldie minus one pannier lid, it sounded brilliant! Good old Duffie and Julia left their garage in sons hands AGAIN! turning up on their silver grey striped 1800, Barry an Tina where there, Tina was wired up Barry tells me,. ? thought I at first, did he mean fresh??  Whatever it meant we could see her box had slipped by the end of the day! I saw one of the new Wanderer members,  Bondy…Arthur. I didnt say hello properly, next time Art. A really magical line up I have to say.

Silverfox and Mrs brought  the Southerners, they arrived last after a long hop from darn sarf, they had set of before dawn. As I write this on Sunday evening they are STILL on the road. Proper bikers innit! 10.00 arrives and we move off to the house of Greg and Christine, we didnt get Police outriders after all, maybe they decided the group wasnt big? 36 bikes and 60+ people seems big to me!

squeezed in 2X2 they were

We arrived at the house after squirming up and down several back allys in 50′s style streets, a little like the Coronation Street houses shown on the opening credits back in the 70′s …minus cat sleeping on out house roof of course! We practically filled the length of the back ally at two bikes abreast.

Where is our bike then?

People appeared at their gates and peered at us silently as we arrived, we took our lids of and the banter began and children came out to see, the locals began to smile ans say hello theycame out to join us. Greg and Christine were at their back gate, both were swayed with emotion, she was in a daze and Greg was relieved the secrecy was over, Christine  joked she thought he had another woman, he kept going into the room when the phone went off! We sat and stood around for a while drinking tea and visiting Gregs toilet, All the girls made the first initial assault on the house beday as the guys stood back and chortled.

Making a beeline for the beeday

Silverfox and Mrs got out the chairs and Royal Dalton cups , yes guysI kid you not, just ask Lynne. They set up a North / South boundry and because Id worked in west London for 16 yrs I was invited across the line to sample coffee in the cheaper cups,

The Croydon Crew unload the poish cups

Welsh David hopefully offered is passport but was still barred from crossing the line.

You don't want to park it like that mate.....

Christine arrived from the house adorned in bike kit and climbed aboard her chariot for the day,Greg followed in our support car, a quick hop to the local park for photos. The man Emmett soon had his 2 foot camera lens erected and took some smashing photos before declaring quietly to Barry that he really shouldnt be out and will be in for a good ear boxing when he gets home from his wife and daughter, he waved us off before riding back to Stalag 17. Thanks for the snippet Baz. Next time hopefully old boy? Chin chin and all that! It was going to be  Neil taking  us through Sheffield city centre, not a task I envy doing because I think its a pig of a place to drive through, thankfully the roads have improved, I am REALLY glad we didnt attempt it on any other day. We used the well proven drop off system at junctions, deviations and turn offs. Thanks for that Neil. Enough of us had CB radios to make the ad hoc event work OK. We got through no problem at all and were soon on the A57 Snake Pass. Meanwhile our lord HONDA provided us with dry brisk weather and the occasional sunny spurts, but to protect our winter white skins he didnt overdo it with the sun and kept us lightly chilled throughout the day. We arrived at Ladybower Dam and turned across it as the sun burst through for a few minutes and showed it in its best light.

On through Bamford onto the A6187 into Edale. The tiny roads proved to be quite greasy and not too grippy for our tyres, so a sedate pace was had all the trip, a trip of 30+ miles I think Neil told me.

Our final destination was at the end of this road and incidently “The Official Start Of The Pennine Way”

Gary reckon's the old girl was 16 when Barry first started chatting up The Lady of The Lane

The pub was called after a beligerant odd lady that waved her broom at Lynne and John and told us all to “push orf before I call the police” very poish she sounded but looked forboding through dark  furrowed eyes and hawkish fizzog a wolly dressing gown covered her haggered frame and whispy long grey hair move strangley in the breeze. the pub name you ask? The Olde Nags Head!

Is that a love sonnet I hear?

Barry tried his charm on her, but she summed him up smartish by declaring she thought he knew too much. Im sure she was a stunner in her day but it seems the wind has played havoc with her over the years. I have a  strange feeling we might see her again before 09 is over!

A thorn between two roses

People began to make plans to move on and about mid afternoon bikes began to trickle away to make trips back home. Greg took loads of photos whilst Christine adored everything Goldwing and revelled in being a biker babe for the day!

Meanwhile I have to report that Mr Mick Gorgde had done it again ladies and gentleman, he arrived, ate dinner and was last seen wondering around outside admiring the views while we mere mortals scrabbled about at the bar ordering scraps of food, how DOES he do it? On the next rideout someone will be tasked to follow his every move and find out how the boy does it!

Greg and Christine.....The whole point to the day...Cheers!

Tilateronthen 

                The Scribe

A watering hole in the Chapeltown area of Sheffield on the evening of Saturday the 10th of January 2009 was the venue of Lynne and Johns family gathering to celebrate their 25th year of harmony, not a wedding anniversary because they are not…..or so we all thought! Lynnes daughter did a brilliant job of letting people know from far and wide, she had come all the way from the IOM with hubbi for a scan ( she is expecting a baby ) She sorted the invites gave directions etc at the same time as getting scanned, an immaculate conception if ever I saw one, well done that girl!  A healthy ten of the “Appy Wanderers” snook in early and hogged a dark corner and waited.  Lynne and John were suitably shocked at the large turn out of friends and family from far and wide and of course her biker family..us! We thought we had done them good and proper with the secret gathering  until they announced that they had got married that very morning!!! A great cheer went up, a few jaws dropped, some just didnt belive their ears. But I know this much ,all their friends and family will be smiling by now at the memory of the announcemet and you guys out there who know this couple will also be smiling as you read this wont you? A small gift was given to the happy couple by Barry on behalf of the Wanderers, it was a model of a purple trike on a plinth with brass name plate. However, this was a complete trike I’ll have you know and not the real Mcoy that has bits missing and is laced with gaffa tape The night was a nice if not noisy affair and went on late into the night. Not quite a bike riding story but close to our hearts all the same wouldnt you agree? Have a nice life you two. Just delete that Gilberston name from your membership now girl!!

John and Lynne

Rocky.