Leaderboard

I met Pete online in 2002 I think, when I bought my Transalp 650. I had joined AdvRider at the time, and he just sent me a message on there to invite me to DualSport UK. At the time, he also had a Transalp 650 and was still living in Wales. It was a new thing to me, bike forums, and turns out I quite liked the small intimate group on a forum like that compared to the vastness of AdvRider or even Horizons Unlimited. It's the closest thing to a motorcycle club clubhouse there is online. I literally had started riding a few weeks before joining that forum I think, and started posting my first ride reports literally figuring out how to go on a motorcycle. I was happy to be amongst @modrover, @YamaHead, @Sir Fallsalot, @boboneleg, @Renegade, @Catteeclan, @yen_powell, @MooN, and even @Tym and @Buckster who gave me so much shit I considered leaving plenty of times. With some of those people a relationship grew to frequent communications outside of the forum. I did my first longer ride on a bike to meet @XTreme and Alie, now recently moved to southern Spain and in search of a place to live, before they settled on the house they've been in until now. Then a second meet up in their current house a couple of years later, in which he took a picture of me trying to kickstart his XT350, that picture haunted me to this day at every opportunity DSUK turned to Maximumbikes, then somehow I grew apart and the forum also disappeared and turned to a facebook thing, I think. Years later, I was very happy to get a second private message, again through AdvRider , as an invitation to join this current forum. My life had by then changed, as did I, and I talked a lot with Pete, he and his wife again becoming good friends, this forum has since then provided a needed internet home and I've used it to vent a lot. He loved that I posted my Morocco ride reports on here and I loved doing those too. He supported me during a few moments when he felt I was about to leave, keeping most of his opinions off the forum to try and avoid exits, because he loved to provide people with this space for them to gather around and didn't want anyone to leave on account of him. This forum is not going to be the same without him, and I doubt it'll survive without him, he pulled it forward with sheer enthusiasm. His over the top self confidence and absence of fear of ridicule were his favourite tools for the job, and you can't help but appreciate that. He and his wife are friends, real world friends, and I'm desolated she lost him in such a quick and surprising way.

I had went to bed early, and did set an alarm clock for the first time in weeks, to 06:30. That gave me time to enjoy waking up lazily in bed, procrastinating getting up while enjoying my own company. Breakfast was the only poor one I had this trip, that went nicely with the theme of this visit to Fes, croissants were stale and worthy of one single bite, orange juice hadn't seen an orange since an industrial factory somewhere once processed them, and coffee tasted like Nescafe. In Morocco there's no excuse for non fresh orange juice and shit coffee, but it made sense as that hotel didn't even offer a breakfast free stay, they had to push people to eat it I was ready to go a little after 7, but as I looked around the streets seemed really wet and it was going to be dark for a while after leaving, so grudgingly put my plastic rain pants and jacket on. By 07:25, I was ready to go: Put navigation on heading to Ain Dorij, and rode off, google maps took me out via tiny streets that seemed more complicated than needed, but the low traffic showed me a less seen side of Fes. It was interesting. Getting out of town and rain starts to steadily fall, at 08:15 I had had my only really challenging moment on the road and stopped to enjoy the sunrise a little, on a particularly muddy and poorly surfaced bit of road tilting to the right, I was forced to brake a little and basically slid off the road, I spotted the gravel bit outside the tarmac and simply pointed to that and rode it for a while. I am most impressed at the Mitas E07 + Dakar, they're sound tires even if the manufacturer warns that they have poor performance in rain and cold. 08:15: Rain properly starts to fall shortly later, my phone is now safe in my jacket and I stop for a moment's rest after spotting shelter. Someone takes my picture as for whatever reason I was enjoying it quite a bit. The above was at 08:55, I then put the phone back in my jacket pocket safe from the weather, and rode all the way to Tangier with no need for it. Navigation was easy and although I was riding on less than main roads I knew I had to go pass Ouezzane and then Chefchaouen, it proved easy. Rain didn't stop for the rest of the morning, averaging from hard to very hard and very windy at the same time. I got stopped at a checkpoint and after the initial small talk the officer told me I had been spotted at 95kmh on a 60, I got off the bike with the helmet open, got my right glove off and introduced myself, told him I would be more respectful from now on, but that I was intended on catching the Ferry and wanted to not miss it, all while putting my biggest possible good guy big smile attitude. Then he asked me for my papers while looking at the back of the bike, and asked where I was from as clearly I didn't have a French or German plate, upon the answer of "Portugaise" he enthusiastically shook my hand and after becoming friends sent me on my way with a big smile and a "ride safe" farewell. Portugal is a good nationality to be in Morocco, our national football team shares the same colours, and we both like beating the French and Spaniards. From there it was very smooth to Tangier, if plenty of wet. The last miles before Tangier were dry and windy, which allowed the overalls to dry on the outside. I had money with me so stopped to top up the bike at a Shell station, rode into Tangier feeling like a road worn adventurer, and quickly got lost in lunchtime traffic Stopped at a cafe with outside tables on a common street and ordered a sandwich. While it took forever to arrive I took the overalls off and made myself comfortable. Turns out my overall pants aren't really waterproof anymore, my jeans were wet on the outside all over the waterproof stitches, and my chest and upper back was fully wet too. Good stuff! The bike looked proper and had just proven to be a trusty friend, a true work beast or a war horse: It was good to ride to the port without the blasted rain suit, hang around for a little getting in line for the bike to be x-rayed, it all went easily as if hipotetically crossing between any European countries. The crossing was a little choppy, the storms seemed to have angered the Mediterranean and the boat rocked heavily the whole trip. At first it was funny like so, look at the water level in the horizon: But after a while people started to get a little tired of it, I felt like having a piss but sat firmly in my seat at the risk of falling over when walking or throwing up if standing, two guys started praying to Allah, and a few people had hands on their faces like trying to prevent eyes from popping out. We made it ok though, lack of paperwork on the boat was a bonus, I don't envy people crossing the other way and having to write stuff down, I would succumb to that for sure! Got out of the boat in my due time, and pushed the bike along with all the line of cars that got off the boat before I did. Tarifa looked stormy, so I put the rain stuff back on, the time at Tangier and on the boat had dried my clothes so I felt comfy and fresh. It was past 16:00 by the time I rode out of Tarifa, I had looked at hotels around there and also the weather forecasts, it was rain for the next few days, so feeling fresh after the ride from Fes I decided to go home for the night, Waze sent me via Badajoz which wouldn't have been my preferred route, but as it was raining through Sevilla (or was it Huelva already? I don't know...) I was lazy and followed it's guidance. Storms were littered all around, with orange warnings for heavy rain so I figured there must be a reason for the longer route. Right before entering Portugal I stopped for a snack after riding all the way from Tarifa in heavy rains. 20km into the trip a water barrier descended upon me with such violence that water pushed into my overalls with ease through my neck and wrists. This stop made sense, and the tiny jamon con queso bocadillho provided me with a little comfort from the belly outwards. The beer is 0% alcohol, too. The snack and fuel stop was at 20:09, I made it home at 22:54 and the bike looked pretty much like I did except prettier, just as wet. That was an epic day riding, around 300/320km in Morocco's backroads and around 700km in Europe with port crossing and a choppy ride in the middle of it, I felt like it was a proper day to end a proper trip, and was comforted by a hot shower in my own house, that I grew to love from Maria. Heated up some of Sofia's shepherds pie and opened a bottle of red wine. I was feeling energized when arriving home, despite the long day, but as soon as food and wine hit my stomach and I settled from the excitement of riding through rain storms, I started feeling tired. That night I fell asleep moments after laying down, and the rain lashed the outside of my bedroom walls through the night. On this trip I travelled with Maria and Sofia, and have to thank you all for providing an audience, the taking pictures everywhere provided with a distraction to some of the very intense feelings I had. I got through it and the extreme darkness I feared didn't appear, only sorrow and the memory of loving times did. I hardly ever felt alone on this trip. It was a nice one, there will be more. Thank you for all the nice comments.

Relatively speaking I hardly knew Pete at all, I think we both happened to be on some god-awful FB group and he commented on a photo I’d posted up. Can’t remember what the photo was or exactly what he said but I’ll bet it was something unflattering………..and I’m guessing it also made me laugh. We discovered we were living fairly close and so we arranged to meet up after a few interchanges on the phone. I’ll never forget waiting for him to turn up at a cafe/bar in Barranda and as I sat there waiting I wondered what he’d be like. Fuck me, he was just as I imagined and it didn’t disappoint. He had the worst fitting pair of jeans I’d seen in a long time, a jacket that was way to big for him and a pair of boots that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a building site. What a scruffy fucker and as soon as he opened his gob out came the sing-song accent and I liked him instantly. We sat, we chatted and generally took the piss out of each other. He particularly like my black and white sportsbike boots. Off we went for a ride and we explored all kinds of abandoned shit. He took me down roads that were totally unsuited to my Kawasaki Z750 and he didn’t give a fuck. I laughed like a twat as I bounced along trying not to smash my balls into the tank; all the while he glided along on his gay Honda. It was his fault the zipper broke on my jacket and also his fault that the warning like came on. I think he liked the idea that he could will things to go wrong. We met up a few times over the course of a couple of years and it never failed to be entertaining. He thought his “street Spanish” was so good………I thought how funny it sounded as he never tried to hide his strong Welsh accent. He always referred to me as a Cockney Wanker and I didn’t mind that at all. He called me a cunt to my face and I knew we were kindred spirits because it just made me laugh out aloud. A few weeks ago he asked what I was doing at the weekend and I think he was hinting about meeting up. I couldn’t make it but sitting here now I regret not trying harder to take the time to go over and see him. I feel guilty and it makes me very sad. It feels like I let him down. If he’s watching me type this he’ll be thinking what a soft southern shite I am because it’s just brought a tear to my eye. So there you go, he came into my life out of the blue and very unexpectedly. He was a force of nature and certainly unique. He disappeared without warning and far too soon. I hope he knew I considered him to be a friend. A daft Welsh twat yes, but a friend nonetheless.

In 2002 I was in a pretty low place. I'd had an accident the year before in which I lost my leg and now I was sitting at home after more surgery just moping around. I decided to get a PC and see if there was anything on the internet to brighten things up a bit. I came across a motorcycle forum that looked a good laugh and started to get to know some of the characters, @Buckster, @Renegade @YamaHead @MooN @Catteeclan @Pedro @Tym @Specs @Sir Fallsalot @yen_powell and many more (my apologies to anyone I've forgotten). They were an eclcectic bunch with all sorts of views but most of all no one took themselves too seriously . The guy who ran it @XTreme was my kind of man as @Saul says above, a straight talker but bloody funny at the same time. I can't tell you how much it lifted my spirits and it was my 'go to' forum. When Pete started this forum up I was so excited to catch up with old friends and carry on with the banter and meet (virtually) lots of new guys and gals as well. No other forum I've been on has ever matched any of Pete's creations, he led from the front and was always trying to keep things chugging along . Good luck today Pete an wherever you end up I'm certain you'll be having a laugh.

No not that 180 but it's been 180 days since i last rode a bike so today I needed to put that right. @Slowlycatchymonkey said the weather was going to be fab but it bloody wasn't when I left home at 11.30 am , i couldn't see in front of my face and it didn't get any better for a while.............. Anyway, perhaps her forecast was right because as I got nearer to her manor the sun started to poke it's head through the fog. By time I got to Chew Valley lake it was lovely............ and the various birdies were enjoying it as well................... I rode up over the Mendip hills and down through the old rode into Wells where it was starting to get positively balmy. From there I rode on to Shepton Mallet where I stopped to have a gander at the old prison, I have actually been in there about 38 years ago but not as a guest of her majesty you understand............ From there I took the Frome road but stpped at Doulting to have a sandwich and a coffee from my flask . While I was there I got a phone call from my mate Big Tone and we agreed to meet up for a coffee at Farrington Farm. I stopped to say hello to this lot on the way in ............. and then we sat in a strange sort of hobbit house for our coffee, Tone is one big hobbit at 6' 4'' tall From there it was a short 18 miles back home . It was great to be out riding again and I may get to repeat the exercise again on Saturday

I am sure this will be classed as gay but I don’t really care. I wanted to say something about Pete. It's funny but even though we never met I have come to look on him as a friend who I spoke to most days. Please you that knew him much longer and better than me do the same, I and I am sure others would like to read it. I liked his manner and the way he would call me out for being a cunt when I was, straight talking honest friends are rare and should be valued. Sometimes you need to look at yourself and what you are doing. He ran this website well and showed a tolerance and the same friendship to some character’s with pretty extreme views not just because of what they could offer to the place. Also because he saw value in them and their views. I liked that, regularly talking to people I would not in most walks of life is a good and valuable learning experience. That environment Pete created with his forceful personality. If you can get by In this sometimes harsh forum it makes you a stronger person in everyday normal life, I liked that too. Interesting place run by an Interesting Guy. I liked his consistent hatred of most things Chinese and Indian unless he was buying them, his quick fire consistent POS posts made me laugh. His refusal to see any value in the same unless of course it was something he bought. Bloody Negatron but Funny Guy. Also I think sometimes we forget of the time and effort and finance he put into this place, because he believed in it and it was his creation. To our benefit of course. Oh and the last thing that I liked was talking to him was often like taking a trip back the the 1970’s with his views and some outlooks on life, my formative years that I look back on with fondness for all the flaws of the time. Good Guy Hopefully we can continue in this forum and stop it going to hell in a hand basket, which it may very well do without him. Pete a friend I’m going to miss. The self proclaimed Rugged Individualist. Cheers Shad Man

This is the last of this kind of forum, Pete had a unique gift to make forums like these and put a lot of effort into driving them forward, proven by their decline once he hands them off to other people. Let’s hold this one together for him until the plug gets pulled and not let it go to hell in a hand cart.

No, it’s Portuguese for

The sun was shining and the cold wind from the last few days had gone, so I decided that a little bimble was in order. I topped the tank at our local supermarket and headed up to Coursan. Then across to the Narbonne northern bypass and peeled off north towards Ginestas. The traffic was pretty light, so it was easy going. A guy on a T100 Bonneville caught up with me just before Saint- Marcel - sur- Aude. We tried having a conversation at a set of lights, but engine noise and language barrier put paid to that! He turned off shortly after anyway. I carried on North and eventually crossed the Argeliers - Trebes road. This is where the ride starts getting a bit more interesting, as the road was then heading into the Corbieres hills. After a bit, I turned off this road to head towards the medieval town of Minerve. This road follows the hillside on one side of the valley of the river Cesse, so it twists and turns around rocky outcrops. French drivers have the mindset that nothing should be coming the other way on blind bends, so extra care is needed to not meet one of them on your side of the road when coming around these bends. I stopped just before the town to get some photos. The town is perched on a rocky point where two rivers meet and have carved two valleys/canyons through the rocky landscape. I rode through the town and headed up to the carpark that overlooks it. There's not much of a view of the town from there, so I decided to carry on up the single track road into the hills for a bit. There didn't seem to be too much more up in that direction, but there were some nice views towards the Pyrénées. It was a bit hazy, so the snow on the peaks was barely visible. I headed back down to the town and set sail for home. I stopped once more to take some pictures of a village, sitting between a low cliff and the river, which has no water in it at the moment. I took a slightly different route back. Going through Argeliers and Capestang, before peeling off towards the south again, through Montels and Nissan- les-Enserune and back to home. Not a huge ride, probably around 100-110km, but nice to get out on the bike for a while.

just some pics from the 3 hours i was out for today. weather is, as usual this time of year, wonderful. Blue skies. 25deg and a light breeze. I followed a route I had not really planned some tie ago but had forgotten to tick the box "avoid gravel" on the gps route planner...

Out for a tour of the countryside with the Missus....near Sumpter... Blue Springs summit.... elevation: 5,864 ft.

Decided to sod the front garden off for today and do my Annual Pilgrimage to Strata Florida Abbey instead. Most of you have seen these places before but if Pete can keep repeating himself them so can i LOL I set off a little late it was 10:30 by the time i was on my way the weather was overcast and cool, i had a nice slow road ride until i hit the road from Ystradfellte to Heol y Senny i always seem to get carried away on that road and it brought me to my first lane of the day where i ended up fixing the gate as it was off its hinges the dopey fucker who fitted it put the bottom hinge upside-down so all the weight is on the top hinge a rough fix it should go in the bodge section but it works fine don't know how long for though. While i was here i found one of those Geocache things it had a £1 coin in there a pack of fag papers and some weed so i nicked the quid and threw the weed i didn't have a pen to sign the register LOL I stopped to open a gate further on and when i turned around the bike was on the floor it had rolled off the stand and ended up breaking the rivet pin on the gear lever so this is what i had been riding with all day it was ok and it didn't make any difference to shifting and i saved the bits before they got lost there's been some tree maintenance on the next lane this was all enclosed, certainly was easier to ride not ducking under low branches Further up it's still overgrown The track goes down to the right in this photo and the easiest way to ride it is straight out into that fecking gate almost pushed my spine out my arsehole when i hit my head on it From here i headed over the firing ranges to Tirabad and through the Crychan Forest onto Cynghordy and this lane which is very wet and mucky though the winter months a lot easier to ride in the dry From here i was onto the Llyn Brianne road another one i seem to speed up on, no photos as the riding was fast and flowing and i didn't want to stop, the top end of Llyn Brianne brings you to the start of Strata Florida in the background is the road to Tregaron another great road When i got back to the bike i spotted a flat fox poor fecker Onto the baptism and there's plenty of water for it the river crossings were straight forward enough it was the puddles that would catch you out when i rode through two of them i knew they were deep because the bike went quiet as i rode though At the furthest point from home here just past Llyn Teifi and onto Claerwen Res Top end of Claerwen Res this kind of track is where the XR excels it is so nice riding it along here. Looking over the dam wall i'm heading for the track on the right of the river But there's another river to cross first i played it safe and swept around to the right straight through almost had me in last time A bit further along after Bobs step A long road ride from here to Talybont on Usk where i headed home over to Trefil and across to Merthyr Talybont Res i'm riding the other way just turned the bike around to take the photo same on the Pontsticill res photo Pontsticill res From here it was over my mountain and home, it was a ride I've needed for a while spent most of it on the pegs because my arse was sore. It was a 172 mile loop. I'm in the middle of changing the oil and filter now ready for the next ride.

As we are all coming from different directions we met at a Greene King pub near Portsmouth Port on Sunday evening. There was a lot excitement, roast dinners and chat. We board seamlessly at 23.00, exchange cabin numbers in case of emergency (no mobile reception) and get straight into our cabins, we dock at 6.30am french time (5.30am uk time), my alarm goes off at 4.30am and I instantly think - who’s stupid idea was this South West Caen (Ouistreham) Port obviously not in 7hrs 33 mins as it was an overnight ferry. Off the ferry and five mins to a cafe right next to the port for a quick croissant, a chat about the route, riding in France and to allow the ferry traffic to dissipate. Glad I had my ipad on hand to show the priorite a driote signage as only one person was familiar with it and they appeared often on our ‘no-motorway’ cross country route! It’s grey, rainy, not the most fun for riding and no matter how hard I try the pace is a bit too slow to be fun but it takes folk time to warm up to riding on the other side of the road when you’re not familiar with it and I’m kind of glad I’m not dealing with any kamikaze riders. Quirky little house over three floors, surrounded by grape vines, as you’d expect in the Loire Valley. We arrive in Sancerre far too late to tour the vineyard which is a bit of a shame but after so little sleep on the ferry everyone is exhausted. The day has stretched out far beyond all comprehension and with a supermarket stop to pick up some steaks we only make it to the house after 7pm. Another friend joins us at this point ready to party and finds us all in zombie mode I may have avoided taking everyone into Paris but the cross country route was not without a price to pay!

Some fine wine, hot food, good sleep and by the next morning most were raring to ride over the border to the Swiss part of Lake Genèva for a bit of lunch and snap a pic with Mont Blanc in the background. Of course it’s end of the ski season so a lot is shut and lunch turned into a vending machine affair Whilst enjoying the lake our ‘on the spectrum’ friend (there’s always at least one in every group isn’t there ) whacked out three different water colour paintings of my mates house in under two hours! It was gorgeous out there Still a bit chilly from the mountain air we opted for quick showers, warm jackets and Kir Royals to warm the cockles. This was followed by far too much wine, we were still laughing about what we couldn’t remember the next morning

I left about 10.45 this morning to meet up with @Skippy in the Natural Park Area across the border in Almeria. First proper run the bike has had for a while, and you'll be disappointed to know there's no abandoned villages this time. Apparently the last village I visited with Skippy traumatised him because he thought he was back in the Blitz! Also traumatised his bike and his jacket cos they both fucked up as well. So here we go......all upbeat, touristy type of shit. These are taken on the way to the Natural Park......a BOTM prospect there I'd say! Roads were jammed as usual! Conditions were amazing......about 20c there and going up to 26 later on. I had to find some grim, devastated shit just to cheer me up though...... And then it was on towards the Natural Park.......there's always bikes here! I parked up by Skippy's Tracer....... Went into the picnic area.......Skippy was already there! Along with 3 groups of Spanish bikers! Didn't take them long for all of them to fuck off when I got there though! So we were there for a while and then it was back to the bikes! The plan was to take him into the Granada province and show him some of the area up around the reservoir at San Clemente. Cos this type of Spain is the polar opposite of where he lives! Eventually we got to the reservoir.......he was surprised to see snow on the peaks! That doesn't happen on the coast! Less and less water all the time! Skippy then followed me back to the town and set his GPS to take the "Adventure" route home! He hasn't logged back in yet.......so maybe he did end up in an Abandoned Village after all?

Had another good trip out with the Welsh Wizard, no devastation, or destruction, no broken bike, brand-new jacket is still fine, I think he was quite disappointed that nothing broke or fell off. Got back to the Brit enclave about 4.15pm……….had some daft Spanish twat pull across me but I live to ride another day.

This feels more like a miracle than a result. I have new hearing aids and I can fucking hear!!!!! Mr Slowly started talking to me as we went through some doors and usually if someone’s behind me I can’t hear what they’re saying, maybe a muffled noise but no actual words. I hadn’t realised I heard all of it when I replied and he said you just heard what I said even though you couldn’t see my face. He then suggested I connected them to my phone and put some music on. I love music. Going deaf and not being able to hear music has been most painful so I was reluctant to spoil such a win by highlighting a loss. Curiosity got the better of me and I played a tune with a prolonged percussion section that contains cymbals, hi-hat cowbells etc all mixed in. I haven’t heard a cymbal for about 10 years but I could hear it all. Every instrument was distinct, the clarity is fantastic, I cried for so long my head started to hurt. I can’t believe it. I know it’s temporary and eventually I’ll get deafer but right now I feel so happy I could cry. Oh look at that I am

Saturdays ride was going to be just a reccy ride for me on my own to check out a few dirt tracks i hadn't ridden before just outside the Llandovery area, i advertised the ride on the TRF forum to see if one or two fancied a day out and before i new it there was seven of us so ended up having to plot a route i already new. Start time was an early one for me 08:30 and we were meeting the seventh member on route. Plan was a road ride to Sennybridge area which was about 30 miles or an hour away on the roads we were taking. Two of the lads that turned up were on two strokes i didn't fancy the road work on those i had explained before hand how much there was they said they were ok with it so after introductions and a few rules of the ride explained off we went. Headed up the Cynon valley to Penderyn and then Ystradfellte and onto the devils elbow to meet up with the seventh member of our group Here's a stock a photo of the devils elbow A couple of miles after this we were onto the first of the trails and the road work was soon forgotten This is a bit of a tough one plenty of fails here i was lucky enough to see it all Jason here having a breather very new to this stuff he went home early on the last ride with me but he was i'll LOL Steve concentrating hard But not happy with just riding the bike he throws it to the ground and decides to do some weight training as well Even the two stroke boys found it a challenge Steve gets going again for the whole of 5 yards and he's down but still smiling Andrew on the mighty DRZ400 And Paul bringing up the rear finding it much easier on his CRF250L than his CRF450L Stopped for fuel in Sennybridge as the KTM two stroke needed fuel every 40 to 50 miles, done a few easy lanes after but no photos on those . The next eventful lane i know as Lampkin lane named after Dougie Lampkin an ex world trials champion due to how difficult it is but we were going down it so no problem. At the bottom is a small river crossing with a very slippery base Steve finds out just how slippery it is and Unfortunately Steve breaks his leg in the fall Luckily there was a mechanic there with a set of Allan keys to fix it So after the laughter stopped and with Steve rebuilt we took on the exit from the lane Almost got run over trying to video fucking two stroke riders don't give a shit LOL Next up was a steep climb, last time i done it it was wet today was easy compared to then everyone made it ok which was disappointing LOL From here there were a few more lanes with no photos taken, then into Llandovery for the two strokes to fuel up and a sandwich for ourselves Heading out west of Llandovery and done a few lanes I've not done before and onto another little stream which i forgot to mention was a little deeper than it looked LOL Stopped for a breather here Jason thoroughly enjoying himself testing the water resistance of his new boots There was a few more uneventful lanes with no photos before we were on the route home Stopped here on the roman road waiting for the others to catch up Steve still full of energy, when they did catch up the lad on the KTM two stroke had binned it twice behind us luckily only had some sore ribs After the roman road a few of us decided to check out the famous motel hill by going down it isn't any better than i remember this was taken just after Andrew had picked his bike up just doesn't show how steep it is No more photos from here, stopped to fill the two strokes up again in Sennybridge before the road ride home. I think everyone enjoyed themselves they were all still smiling and alive when i left them so that's a good sign

Today I made the cakes ( yes, 2 different ones) more drunk, and being a vet I have the right tools to get the booze right in the middle!!

Was??? Still is!!! Turned 20 this year, I have had almost from new. We have been together for that long!! Best car in the World!!

Yer a Polish woman told me you're good for that.

As the second week of my journey starts I have had a chance to look back at the first week. We were in the backcountry fast and without cell reception for most of the week. I have just now had a few days with the internet to touch base with the world. We have already seen some amazing places but one of my favourites was a place called Marble Canyon. We camped beside Turquoise lake in the middle of this beautiful canyon. We stayed there for a few days and just enjoyed this magical place. If you look real close in about the middle of the photo you can see our little red tent....

I think I had planned 1500km for this trip and door to door was 1508km according to the trip meter on the bike. it also showed 24h50 minutes riding time ( a little less in reality as I don't always switc the engine off when stopping for a pic or slapping the sat nav or whatever but call that "saddle time" and it'd be about right) fuel consomption was around 5,8L per 100 km. I left home on wednesday morning under clear skies and temps of around 8 to 10 deg c. The first stage was south to Clermont Ferrand on roads that I have ridden many times before. Crossing the Loire, westbound at Pouilly sur Loire I rode south on the left bank of the Loire for a while further before stopping for a coffee break. Budget restrictions being what they are ( and I'm something of a cheapskate at the best of times...) coffee from a flask was the order of the day and I just stopped at a convenient spot at the roadsiide by the river. Tigger in full touring Mode: despite the sunshine, I still had thermal liners in jacket and trousers at this point. I picked up the A75 southbound shortly after this at Monmarrault and as the weather rapidly deteriorated I hunkered down and concentrated on "making progress", switching from the "scenic" gps app to "Coyote" which warns of any speed cameras or dangers on the road as well as basic navigation. I really didn't need any avigational aids as I simply had to run south untill junction 37. This was a boring, if reasonable short interlude just concentrating on the road ahead and despite the rain keeping the speed needle around 140km/h ( the French Autoroutes are limited to 130 under normal circumstances, but in rain are limited to 110 and 140 on the tigers clocks gives a real speed of around 135, hence the usefulness of advance warning of any speed cameras, mobile or otherwise. ( it's not an infallible system, but for 50€ a year it only has to avoid 1 10 km/h exess speed fine to be viable. ) Once off the Autoroute, the road eastwards from Marvejols to Balsieges, before joining the Gorges du Tarn proper was superbe. The weather was still cold and damp, with 10/10ths cloud cover but only actually raing in brief showers. These showers are much easier to deal with wearing waterproof riding gear rather than having to stop and clamber in and out of rain gear every half hour. then the start of the Gorges du Tarn proper. riding down the Gorges was stunning, I can honestly say that I have never seen anything like it, there's certainly nothing on this scale in the Uk. Having the road to myself, mostly due to the bad weather was a bonus cos I imagine it would be heaving with bikes and camping cars during the summer. The main problem was actually staying on the road which winds seemingly endlessly downwards hanging onto the edge of the mountainside, on a balcony to go around a buttress, through a tunnel from time to time, squeezing through a gap between the cliff face and an outcrop, never straight or level or of equal width for more then a dozen yards and all this on a wet surface whilst gawking open mouthed at the incredible scenery. Wow! just... Wow. Once it was over and I was nearly at the bottom I realised I had taken no pics, just too gobsmaked by it all to function normally. It was about 18:30 when I rode into Millau from the west. I had provisionally booked a bed in a local "Gite d'Etape" ( bit like a youth Hostel) which, using my sleeping bag and sorting myself out food wise, would only cost me 15€ ( remember what I said about being tight fisted?) It was raining steadily now and when I stopped at a supermarket to grab a salad and sandwich for my supper, I phoned ahead to tell him I was about 15 minutes away. I mentioned I was just getting some food and he said " you can't eat here." I new that they weren't doing food cas I was the only guest, but I had previously said that I would grab a sarnie on the way in. He now decided that he wasn't happy with me eating a sandwich in my room either! Bearing in mind it was now pissing down I told him he could fuck off and hung up. ooopsss... Google to the rescue ( much as I hate to admit it the smartphoe is a very useful tool in this sort of situation, it took me about 3 minutes to find the nearest hotel mercure / Ibis ( 800m away) and book a room for the night with free undercover secure parking for the bikeand breakfast included for 80€ ( tight fisted up to a point...) I already had food for the evening and the welcome and service at the hotel were excelent and I mad good use of the facilities which were far superior than I would have found in a gite d'etape. The view from the hotel room window It was too late to go and look at the viaduct / suspenders bridge and as I had planned a short easy run the next morning I decided to leave it till then.

Mine

Yes, in better times!

A couple of years ago. Not the finest photo but one of my favourites, cos I was so happy, dorky looking but happy, like top tier happy, felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz running through the flower fields in the sunshine except on a motorbike, dont think Ill ever beat that. Just me and one other guy and not another soul about.

From your emperor and TOTY for the second year in a row, a feat never before achieved. I already had overtures from countless fit bitches this morning as a result, now I am planning the celebrations.

After a bit of searching on Google Maps and Google Earth I found an old abandoned country house that I'd never visited. It wasn't too far away either, which was great because it was bloody cold. The building itself was part house and part cave.......so no telling how many rooms were actually built into the hillside. The main construction was in pretty good order, but all access points had been secured. Though I was able to get some shots through the broken windows. And after checking the house out I found another construction behind it.....and more caves! First off......a short vid! Now onto the house.......Bit of a rough track to get to it as well! There'll be some beak cleaning going on tomorrow for sure! As you can see, it's in pretty decent order! A few shots through broken windows! It's not the same when you can't get in......cos you don't get the buzz of walking into the unknown! Then it was round the side and onto the hill that it was built into! And you can see the building that was behind it...... ......so it was clamber down the bank to access it! Where you could see the cave built into the hillside! Once again, all secured! Then back onto the bike and away! As you can see, there's no van there! And no riding buddies to hold my hand either! It's as real as it gets! You Casuals could learn a lot from this you know!

Meanwhile in Canada ......it has been reported that overly cheerful bug-eyed humanoids are running amok along the beaches. DO NOT approach these beings as there is no telling as to what might happen.... HAVE A GREAT WEEKEND EVERYONE!

After all these years of blaming @XTreme

I wanted to ride the Lammermuir Hills as it has been a while and the last time was well before I fitted the new shocks. I headed over some nice twisty country roads and through Duns before turning off and heading for Longformacus and up into the hills. Miles of single track roads with little traffic and a few cattle grids and many sheeps. This was looking back from where I had come from. This was where I was headed. The views were spectacular as always. That is Watch Water Reservoir in the distance.

Can't believe it's already time for goodbye to such a good guy. Thanks for letting me know - you know who you are Always enjoyed your vibrant full of life opinionated self Pete, that's why I followed you to this dinosaur filled poop hole I think that was part of the fun we shared. A serious and light hearted touch in the same measure. If reincarnation is true then you're definitely off dog level Hope you enjoy the ginormous top box in the sky XXXXXXXXXXXX xxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx

Might go with this one, not sure yet

So some peeps on here go on about rugged individualism and what it takes to ride a bike. In my book that involves getting out there and riding no matter what the conditions are So none of your going out on a dry sunny days to visit some DBM's in an abandoned building or luring some poor cockney into a pic nic area so you can show the poor sod your groin !! This is rugged individualism , ploughing on through all conditions .................... You might have to stop at a cafe on the way .................... but that's fine because you're not scared that your bike may end up covered in shite ............................

I often wonder what goes on in my, admittedly very spoilt, Jack Russell crosses head. Everyone of his toys has a gimped right front leg, non of the others are touched but he always attacks and takes the stuffing out of the right front. The only exception is his walrus where he has gimped the right front tusk. ???

As I was heading out after lunch, four bikes arrived, one of them worthy of a picture.

This is the story of two events that came together, in a happy, match on the first days of January 2023: I turned 50 and did my first Moto tour! The idea to combine the 2 started a couple of months ago, when my friend Barbara said she would love to come over from the UK for my birthday, I immediately thought it would be great to do a test run of my Motor tours and organise the very first one! She was up for being a guinea-pig and it was decided to start in Lisbon and end in Faro, to be even more special and try to find the better weather! As it happens, December was full of work and stress and by the time I picked her up from Lisbon Airport on a dark and gloomy evening of January, my head was in bits and I felt like I had been run over by a train!! 3 days before “launch” and I hadn’t organised a thing, not even dog seating so we could actually go away without the dogs! I motivated myself somehow and called the Bike rental company the day Barbara landed and secured a bike from this lovely guy that laughed at how short the short notice was! Hey-ho, someone with a good sense of humour is always a blessing!! He was amazing, bringing the bike to us and collecting it from us in Algarve, offering for us to use it more days free of charge if we wanted saying January is slow for his business, make the most of it, he said! The company is MOTORENTOUR - Motorcycle Rental & Tours and I highly recommend it. We will work together in my business endeavour @Turtle_Mototours, a great partner to have. So we had a bike, check, I then booked the Hotel, check, and after that got a dog sitter, with even shorter notice, to look after the pooches, everything checked!! NOTE: Thank you @trustedhousesitters for being the best thing ever when it comes to pet sitting while we go on holiday. And on the 7th of January, we were ready to go but not before I had to see a doggie with an inflamed eye on a last minute call... because I cannot say no and because I am a one woman band and have to work on all fronts. The weather had been great the days leading up to our trip, only somehow it turned spectacularly on a downward spiral and we set off under all sorts of warnings, of all colours and descriptions and we sure got it!! Fully kitted up in several layers of water proofs, we used up all my extensive gear resources between us, and being made of stern stuff, we faced the big storm, with its heavy winds and lashes of sideways rain, the rivers of water on the motorway and the sliding drains across it, Barbara on the rented Benelli TRX 500 with its 45 HP and me on the solid Speed Triple with Michelin 2CT Sports tyres. The tyres were the least of my worries, Michelin does rain like no other, even Cup tyres stick somehow (!), my issue was the darkness, seeing I totally forgot to put the clear visor on..., not only IT IS clear, dahhh, but also has a pin lock, very useful in damp conditions and it was damp! Anyway, after 1 hour and a half of rain pounding our spirits, undeterred as they were, we were in need of refreshments and something nice in our bellies. The service station toilets had Dyson hand dryers and we took great advantage of those magical machines as much as possible, warming up our hands and drying the gloves insides. This is me next to the Dyson feeling delight to be out on the bike with my best friend!! I really was!! We hung our jackets on the chairs and by the end of lunch I am sure some ducklings could have swam in the puddle under the chair!!! We got a break in the weather after refuelling our stomachs, the rest of the afternoon, dark as it was ( although it could have been my visor!!), the weather relented a little and we reached the winery estate safe and sound and with just the odd spot of rain. Its a place I absolutely love, those of you that follow mine and @pedros reports, have seen it before, a few years back I made a video there for your annoyance/entertainment! Its called Herdade do Sobroso, a very nice hotel, in a traditional Alentejo farm house and the wine they make there is absolutely divine. The food is off the scale delicious! The room had underfloor heating, so we spread our gear on the floor, taking advantage of some serious hot spots and the next day there was no water in sight!! The Dinner was great!! Nothing like overcoming difficult conditions to make us feel superhuman and chuffed with ourselves! Plus a bottle of gorgeous wine also helps! They brought us the starters, just little things they said… in reality that could have been the meal already! Wonderful scramble eggs with wild asparagus, grilled cheese in a coquette, mini chicken pies and tempura prawns were “the little things” before the main meal. For me came a soup made from a fish that is a “cousin” of the shark, delish, and for Barbara pork cheeks, something her grandmother used to cook, but somehow those survivors of WW II rationing didn’t pass-on the knowledge of using and cooking every scrap of food and modern Britain as no idea what a pork cheek is or how it tastes, unless its in a sausage! Barbara, being a lady from Cheshire and farming background, loved it!!! #noveganshere Dessert were 2 deceivingly small cakes, specialities developed in Convents where bored Nuns converted their lust into the sweetest of sweets using kilos of sugar, eggs and almonds. Not for the faint hearted ( or diabetic!), on a normal day not ideal after such a meal, but in that setting, with that wine and after the giddiness of the day, another 1000 calories was not going to harm anyone! OK, maybe the liver got slightly harmed… That house is, for me, the perfect kind of home. The one story building, with high ceilings, showing the inside of the roof and its wooden beams, the enormous fireplace, made that way to smoke the chouricos and salamis in the olden days, now burning the most lovely fire and giving us a hug of warmth and comfort that only a real log fire on a stormy night can give. The staff did a great job of keeping us topped up while we melted into the sofas and I felt like my Grandmother was going to pop round the corner at any given moment, that's how much I felt at home! Dolce far niente… We woke up on the day of my birthday and, unlike what is normal on my birthday, it was very gloomy and actually raining! It never rains on my birthday!! On arrival the day before, we had encountered the owner of the Estate and on knowing of my special birthday, he requested us to stay fora birthday lunch and kindly offered me a bottle of bubbly, so we were already half way to staying... Again this place wraps itself around me like a snake and enchants me to stay!! We looked at the sky, not looking good… We then headed to the breakfast table and it didn't take us long ( not even 5 minutes!) to decide we would have the lunch, the bubbles, the afternoon tea and also the diner!! We were definitely staying another night and celebrate my birthday in style by doing nothing! Not something that comes natural to me, but it was exactly what was needed and I accept, there is something very nice in the Dolce far niente way of life, must practise it more. Breakfast was delicious and very well presented! After breakfast we had a leisurely stroll around the house, not straying to far, not wanting to exhaust ourselves!! Lunch was wild boar roast with vegetables and migas, a unique speciality of this region that I will refrain myself from explain, it needs a post of its own!! What followed next was the loveliest of surprises, organised in secrecy by the two best people in my life, Barbara and @Pedro. They colluded together to organise a birthday cake, with candles (!!) and the staff made a chorus of 2 singing the happy birthday song! I was beyond embarrassed and also very grateful for all the thought and care they had put into the whole thing. As birthdays go, it is very hard to have a better one. We proceed to eat the cake and drink the sparkling wine all afternoon, next to the fire, dragging ourselves for a little walk before dinner to say hello to the bikes and laugh at everything, funny or not so funny, in a way that only a whole bottle of bubbles can do! Especially considering Barbara actually paid a lot of money to rent the bike and we did around 250 kms in total so far! We laughed at this realisation and our motorcycling achievement, the best thing for it really! They had promised us a light meal for dinner, after 24 hours of solid eating and drinking, and one might say it was… lighter…fair enough! Delicious yet again and followed by fruit, not the infamous Catholic cakes intended to make celibacy a little more bearable! Morning came with heavy rain but the Weather App was adamant that it would clear after 10am, so we took our time with the great breakfast, ordering scrambled eggs and bacon and filling ourselves with bread with tomato jam, very traditional in the South of Portugal, and more orange cake, my absolute favourite. We somehow managed to get into our trousers, a difficult endeavour I have to say… packed, loaded the bikes and, as forecasted, blue sky forced its way between the dark clouds and we set off totally and utterly like new people, feeling relaxed and years younger, , which in my case, was a great way to start a new year, a new decade even!!! We were going direction South, to Algarve, searching for its famous Winter warmth, soft light and general pleasantness all round. There is a reason Brits have been moving there since the 60s, following Cliff Richard, the very first to buy a Villa and spend Winter enjoying the delights of this stretch of land, many times more akin with the other side of the Water in its mannerisms, architecture and personality then with the Continent it is solidly attached to. You can feel Northern Africa there, the sand is different, the houses have flat roofs, the people are darker and even after almost 8 centuries of Christianity, you can easily confuse the typical Algarve chimney with a minaret from a mosque. Algarve comes from Al Garbe, meaning Occidental, because it was the Westerly part of the Al Andalus, the moor Kingdom in the South of the Iberia peninsula. It has a geographic border with the rest of Portugal, 2 ridges of mountainous terrain that made it hard to capture from the moors and give it a distinct ambience, so marked that until Portugal become a Republic in 1910, it was always referred to as “The Kingdom of Algarve”, so the Portuguese Kings were titled as “King of Portugal and the Algarve”. Never had a King of its own, but throughout the centuries it always enjoyed a deference no other part of Portugal had, not even Lisbon! Algarve is also defined geographically by water, in the East the River Guadiana that separates it from Spain, in the South and West the Atlantic Ocean in all its force and glory. While the East side of Algarve is mellow and romantic like the River Guadiana, a strong favourite of the Arab Poets that populated Al Andalus before it was destroyed by the Christian Conquest, the West is Wild, windy, salty and unforgiving. Sagres, where the land ends and the Sea begins, the most Westerly point in Europe, could not be more fierce and violent when the Gods of the Sea so decide, a magical place with the always enchanting and alluring energy of all “finis terra” locations. Algarve is by no means my favourite part of the small country that is “Portucale”, but it's aloof nature and the influence of a culture I like to study and understand, fascinates me. Unfortunately it's become a one trick pony to the majority of visitors that only do the beach, the bars and the hangover, overlooking its amazing history, visible in its castles and roman ruins and in the writing of erudite moors that studied the stars from their Sheikh Palaces, where they also wrote beautiful poetry. In fairness, the beaches are the best and we enjoyed good walks on them on our last day! @Pedro has a specific point on the road entering Algarve via the mountains where he feels like Africa is calling and the wind feels warmer and everything gets better! For us it was a little like that too, we travelled down avoiding the majority of the rain, going between downpours and drying out pretty fast and once over the ridge, indeed the temperature went up and the rain stopped, letting us enjoy the views and taste the Sea in our mouth even if we could not see it yet! The lovely people at the Wine Estate made us a “pack lunch” each and we stopped at the entrance to Algarve to eat and relax a little before heading to Triumph Algarve to look for some gloves for Barbara. Unfortunately when we got there it was closed, so we proceeded to meet a friend of mine that has moved to Algarve and kindly invited us to stay at her house. For those of you that do Golf, we stayed right next to ( inside even…) one of the most famous Golf Courts in the World! Famous why, you may ask?! Because it's on the cliff and one can Golf right to the edge and if one misses the putt, the ball either lands on the beach 30 metres below or it actually goes in the Sea! I find that particularly funny!! As nice as it is to enjoy a day in a super luxurious place, with the greenest of greens around you wherever you look, it's very “resortie”, not very genuine and hard to walk a dog when they keep knicking the golfers balls from the Ts or jumping in the Golf Course manicured ponds and lakes!! Funny, but not for long, those golfing guys get very angry ( look at Trump!) and they have weapons in the Golf bags and buggies to chase us!!! The last thing we did together was to visit the beach in Faro, where I had been previously with Pedro and once at the famous motorcycle meet that happens every year around June/July time. Barbara also became a little in love with Algarve and must have really missed it, flying home from Faro to a very cold and snowy Manchester!! The 2 of us have been friends for 21 years, we have shared so many amazing motorcycle trips together and also not so amazing life events, we can talk non stop for hours and now that we travel with intercoms, the chat can continue on our travels, amusing on the onlookers when 2 women go past gesticulating while riding a motorcycle!! We said goodbye at the airport and 1 hour later her rented bike was collected and thus ended my 1st moto tour!! It was a test run of the bike rental, the hotel booking and the invoice making, and it all went really well, so I am a lot more confident Turtle Mototours will kick off in 2023 and will be successful! I stayed in Algarve for another night and the next day set off relatively early with the intention of reaching Estremoz!! I have a lot of roots in this town, but more than that, I have a 2nd family as well. Before moving to the UK it was where I settled working in farm practice with a great vet that was already 76 years old when I started working with him! He retired at 92 and now, carrying 98 years on his shoulders, he is still as mentally sharp as ever and a joy to be with. I visit as much as I can, every minute counts when the journey has been that long… In 1999, when I started my life there, I just fitted in like a jigsaw piece that was missing and in spite of wandering off to the lands of Northern Europe and the years that have passed, it's still the same and so I just turn up unannounced and there is always a seat at the table and a bed ready to sleep in. Life is good to me!!! Had to fill up before starting the day and the Hipster in me actually asked the owner of this beauty if wanted to swap!! Luckily he decline saying his drivers licence is only up to 50cc!! To reach Estremoz was a full day's riding, all little roads over the mountains in Algarve first and they are stunning at the moment!! Again there were some serious showers that gave me a good soaking because I had no waterproofs determined as I was my optimism would beat the rain and it did!!! After 2pm no more rain, my non waterproof clothing dried out and I was happy! And hungry!! Decided to do a Pedro and go into a little village looking for some food and BUM! Found a cool, mega traditional restaurant. I went in and there was that moment of a Cowboy movie when the stranger walks in the Saloon and everyone goes quiet and stares at the unknown character standing at the bar!! In my case the staring is more intense given I am a woman, alone, ON A MOTORCYCLE!! This stuff doesn't happen in these parts, where men are men and women are, mainly, in the kitchen!! It's the interior and south, a very small village and like anywhere, a smile goes a long way, so I smile and it's all good. Turns out the owner also has a Triumph and, inevitably, bikes brought us together and we discussed motorcycling and motorcycles for a while. The food was simple, but gorgeously home made! This is a land I know well and I absolutely love! I even start talking with their accent without realising it, which used to leave Pedro, and others, a bit baffled, but, my roots are in Alentejo, it's like I go back in time!. So after smiling and asking for my food, I sat down next to 2 old men and we talked about sheep and cows and crops, because deep inside I am a countryside lass!! After, 2 doggies came, an 18 year old, must be tough as old boots to survive so long in a place no one will ever take her to a vet (!) and after that, a 1 year old gorgeous Collie, with whom I shared some food and that for sure had fleas… Made me think next time I will take a vet kit with me! That was one of the most beautiful afternoons riding I have ever had. The fields are so, so beautiful… Thanks to the miraculous amount of water that has blessed this land of constant drought, the fields are green with grass and peppered with yellow, purple and white from little flowers blooming, a little early in fairness, making the whole thing look like Turner painted it himself!! No one does countryside like Turner, fact! The funny moment of the afternoon, stupidly I did not stop to photograph, was finding a game of Cricket in the middle of a small village buried in the Portuguese deep South! I almost fell off the motorcycle in amazement!! And laughing! Good or bad, not sure yet, we now have in Portugal a lot of intensive production of vegetables in greenhouses. In the South some towns, previously empty and abandoned, have found a new life with this industry and the manual labourers it hires. Well, I hope they hire and pay them, not enslave like in other parts of the Iberian Peninsula, mainly in Spain!! They come and they settle and they play cricket, which is so extraordinary and nice!! These are people from Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, South East Asia and I have nothing but respect for them and for the, mainly very old, locals that were sitting around the ex-football field watching this impromptu game of an incomprehensible sport for anyone in the World other than British or Countries where Britain left a flag! At this point I was racing the Sun, trying to arrive before it set, because after that my visor is woefully inadequate and it goes bloody cold!! For that reason there are no pictures to show you and no amount of words will ever transmit the beauty of a January evening and its soft light illuminating the mountain I had to cross, bringing cork trees alive in oranges and greys and kissing the earth goodnight till the following day. I do have some photos of the next morning on my way home for your enjoyment! Sometimes all we need is a friend; Sometimes all we need is a change of scenery and a challenge; Sometimes all we need is to do nothing for a day; Sometimes all we need is love and kindness; Sometimes all we need is a great day-ride alone; And sometimes life gives you all of the above in 5 days!!! Thank you for reading.

And by 11 all the wall paper will fall off the walls

04th December, Sunday Wake up at my own pace after a night well slept. This traveling all day does provide for good sleep, and I can definitely feel that compared to when at home. I am also in love with the feeling of packing stuff to the bike, which takes 5 seconds with BMW's Vario cases, then have something to eat and some hot beverage, and then ride off like you're a pro. Makes me feel like a movie star The plan is to ride back east for a bit all the way to Four El Hism on the R102, then turn the bike North and use that canyon to climb over the mountains over to Argan territory, stop at a small town that sells some Argan based products, and then go in the direction of Marrakech past the most Star Wars sounding city name ever, Taroudant, and the Tizi N'Test mountain pass, all good stuff to look forward to on the start of the journey north, I certainly wouldn't be reaching Marrakech's chaos today, though, and was unsure where to stop. Ahead of me, I knew I had some of the best mountain roads over the following three days. Morning cold and saying hello to donkeys when stopping to put on my warm gloves. Reach the palm trees of Tamarnt and head north on a gorge road, the R107 starts down on the desert, enters into the mountains via a gorge, climbs on the end of it and goes to Tafraout: Arriving in Tafraout at almost 14:00, I shop around to buy a little bit of pure Argan oil, and have some amazing chicken for lunch And at 15:00 get back on the road north, heading to Taroudant! This was to be an amazing bit of the trip, Argan trees grow very slowly so most of the ones I see over these mountains are really old, it's a great experience. Over near the other side of that valley there is Taroudant, it was now about 17:30 so I was going to get there at around sunset time. Traveling here took forever, the roads are amazing and worthy of more time, the distances aren't even that great but I kept stopping to look at trees and pick a few argan seeds to take home. Temperature was climbing as I approached the valley in front too, which felt great after the morning's cold. Beyond the valley, you get the first glimpse of the Atlas too, it's always an impressive landmark to approach. Taroudant is a walled city, like a smaller less chaotic Marrakech. It's got a cool vibe to it, I stopped once for tea in the middle of the day and liked how it felt, back then it was quite a hot day though, and I was happy to sprint for the mountains, today it felt warm as I arrived which was good, the next day I knew I was going to be cold at 2000 meters. Being a walled city, it's got a few doors around it, but makes navigation hard, I searched on google maps for a hotel and found somewhere on the outskirts, it was now getting dark and I felt tired, so went for it, what happened next was a bit surreal. I showed up at the place and it was a riad sort of thing with a walled in garden like what is normal on the outskirts of town, it looked alright but had disco music blaring. I park the bike inside the closed gates, and there's a weird ambience going on. Walk into reception and the guy tells me they had a 700 dirham room for me, I laugh at him and tell him they've got some at 500 in booking, and he tells me to sit down and talk. Now, this dude sits down next to me and very quietly, and gaily, tells me to consider a special price of 400 dirhams with breakfast included, and that I should let him show me the room. It doesn't sound good, I get a weird feeling again and tell him no deal, and I prepare to leave, he then insists and tells me that for 400 dirhams I get the room, breakfast, dinner, and that he would really be happy if I were with him so he could show the room to me, and doing that he simply lays his hand gently on my leg. I then realize what sort of place that is, why I had a weird feeling when saluting the guys sitting on the garden, how weird and out of place the Ibiza type music sounded, and what really came with that room, so quite quickly told him I'd stay nearer to the city center, and left. I then find another place inside the city walls, it's pricier but seems really very nice and less chance of sex with other men. After getting a little lost I did find the location, and was delighted to ride a little bit of a weird access street lodged between the city walls and the hotel entrance itself. This hotel, the Moulin de Taroudant, (can't say Taroudant without picturing Jedis and light sabers!) was an old water mill now refurbished by a french guy, they had nice comfy beds, rooms with no offers of sex, and a very relaxing restaurant where I had a pretty gourmet fish skewer and aubergine pure, it was good. After a nice shower to wash the road off me, I was delighted to have a glass of Moroccan white wine outside, and then eat by the fireplace, where I met a nice older couple of Scots, and staid late drinking red wine with them. Charlie and his kind wife (with a very weird name that I can't for the life of me remember) were great company. I slept well, having had a bottle and a half of pretty average red wine I felt ready for bed. The next day? Mountain roads surely await, and adventure

Merry Xmas to you all from Mrs Paws

To get this car back on Abby's birthday is amazing, it was because she died the wheels were put in motion to get this car running again, and it is, on her birthday, mums 325 is back.

A ride drive report by Bob the boober , aged 63 and 45 days What a beautiful day it was today, bright sunshine and although a bit colder than recently it wasn't too chilly. So time for a drive around North Wiltshire and see the sights. Approx 16 miles from my house along the A420 is the village of Castle Combe. This is one of the most photographed villages in UK with it's chocolate-box cottages running alongside the By Brook . The village is not very big but it can take a while to drive through because of all the tourists trying to get 'that' shot. Even in these covid times there were still quite a few about today although I didn't see any coaches up in the public car park. Safely out of the village without running anyone over I headed up the Fosseway. The Fosseway is a roman road which starts at Seaton on the south coast and runs up to Lincoln in the north, a distance of approx 235 miles. I expect @Mawsley knws about the Fosse as it runs through Leicester on it's way North. Most of the Fosse has a tarmac surface nowadays.......... But in this part of Wiltshire there's about 20 miles where it is unsurfaced. Normally I would be going straight on at this point if I was on my bike but I thought better of it today as I was in the car.......... I tuned left instead and drove into the village of Sherston which was famous for it's wool trade in times past. There is still a link to that in the village as it's the home of 'Stretchline' who make knicker elastic A bit further down the road I passed Grittleton House which is now a party and event facility. If anyone's getting married soon I'm up for a party in that pad Later on I passed this. Fuckmine, it's even bigger than @Buckster bike and looks just as heavy I was a bit hungry by now and spotted a McMerd in Chippenham so I went through the drive through, unfortunately I was dissapointed as they had no McFlurry or milkshakes due to supply problems. I really like a McFlurry, it's about the best thing they sell but I had to be content with a cheeseburger and coffee

Finally got around to writing this up, I have been way too busy with union stuff at work. A couple of weeks ago I went for a run out to the border with England while it is still open, if the Scottish Nazi Party get their way it will be closed at some point. I went down the A68 which would be a great motorcycling road if it wasn't for all the speed cameras but that isn't much of an issue for the tractor. As there have been complaints of not enough pictures I went out of my way to take some. So here we are just outside Edinburgh, with those lovely wind turbines. Who doesn't love a nice wind turbine? Obligatory picture of the beast. Some miles later I headed off the main road towards my first planned stop. Which was Scotts View, said to be Sir Walter Scotts favourite view in Scotland. It was an even better view this time as this beauty was there. I continued along the lanes and was going to take in one of the Abbeys in the area but it was closed still so I headed to the Wallace statue that looks over the Jedburgh Valley, it was a bit of a walk though the woods to get there, luckily I wasn't raped by trolls. They live under trees like this. Here is the man himself. and his view of the lands he won back for Scotland before he made a twat of himself and suffered a brutal end at the hands of the English. I didn't go down the hill as there were strange noises and I am a lazy fucker. I headed back to the bike, it was at this point I realised I should have asked more questions of the person I spoke with earlier who said I might see "raptors" near the Wallace statue, I looked and looked and did not see any hawks in the area at all. However on the path back through the woods I met this bastard. Luckily a couple of English fatties walked up at this point so as my reptilian friend and his family took to eating this feast that were too wobbly to get away I took a swift walk to the bike and left. I headed back to the A68 and did not stop until I got the border. Where I turned around and availed myself of a cup of tea and a cheese burger and a cigar before heading back. I even got picture of some porn for Pete, these are English sheep.

So earlier in the year I noticed surface rust on the tank of my Tenere 700. As the bike was still under warranty I took a trip to the dealer and he put a warranty claim straight in. Once the tank and all the small parts arrived I asked the dealer if I could collect the tank and fit it myself as my plan was to have it painted before fitting it. There were two reasons for this, 1. I figured that it would only have the same amount of paint on there as the original , 2. I wanted to change the colour from the manky grey O/E colour. The dealer was fine with that so I went and collected the parts. I am lucky that through work we have an ace painter, he does all our Ducati stuff as well as custom paint jobs on cars. He had done a Yamaha R1 a couple of months before and had found a colour from 'House of Kolor ' that was a great match and had enough left over to do my tank and the little side panels that were also manky grey. I managed to remove the tank from the bike a couple of weeks ago and then after I'd taken it into our workshop our mechanic removed the fuel pump and then it got painted. Old and new side by side............... and one of the small side panels........... On Tuesday my boss brought the finished items round to my house and I fitted it all yesterday. It's time consuming doing it all on one leg but it's not as if I'm doing anything else. Anyway, I'm really chuffed with the paint job and I think it looks much better that the O/E job............ Before ........... and after.............

Little argan tree is doing great, and enjoying the current heat