Oopnarth, Group ride day 1

Glenn, Mike, Roger and Jeremy, join us before we set off. It's not raining when they arrive, but it starts when we leave. And it doesn't bloody stop all day.

Snads makes sure we leave the property.

Steve's 'tours' are always enjoyable but today there's no source of light to generate any kind of shine as we splash our way along the roads. They say there's no such thing as bad weather, only unsuitable clothing, and we're all geared-up with suitable clothing. Jackets under waterproof jackets, waterproof trousers on top of biker trousers, Goretex gloves and boots; but by the end of the day we're all soaked. Except Steve, who's just bought a new triple layer Goretex Klim suit and is wearing a waterproof jacket on top.

We traverse a mixed bag of tarmac, B-roads, mostly unclassified roads, and some that barely pass as roads with grass growing in the middle, which we can only access by opening some gates. There's sheep at the side of the road, with no separation between us and them so we proceed with caution. 

We stop for coffee in a little village called Askrigg, with the single public toilet next door to the temperance hall 100m down the road. Despite the bad weather the coffee shop is full so we take our coffees outside. It's lightly raining and there's no shelter, so we just grin and bear it. Watered and drained we get back on the bikes and hit the road.

More rain which eases off before becoming even heavier. I've never worn my helmet in heavy rain before and realise that it fogs up inside with the visor fully closed. I haven't yet fitted the Pinlock anti fog layer, so I spend the rest of the day with the visor cracked open a fraction. But this lets in a small amount of high-speed rain, so my face gets sprayed. At least it's not freezing rain.

But as the day progresses the wet layers are cooled by the fast flowing airstream to the point that the cold seeps deep inside. I've given up with saturated gloves, supposedly waterproof, but not after several hours in this weather. I eventually don some cheap plastic gloves as an inner layer underneath which helps retain some warmth but not much.

Lunch is a lovely place we've visited before, next to a ford over a small river. We're surprised that despite the weather it's level is not that high. 

We huddle under the bench parasols, which barely cover us and have hot tea/coffee and assorted rolls - welcome sustainance. 

It's a steep ride down to the tea shop and a steep ride back up; Phil on the Harley needs a little push to get on to the tarmac from the rough gravel path immediately in front of our lunch stop.

We decide to skip the afternoon coffee stop and ride the rest of the route non stop except for a brief petrol stop for the Alan Alan on his FireBlade sportsbike, not ideal for these conditions but he copes well.

Mike, Roger, Jeremy and Glenn go their separate ways at this point. Some are joining us again tomorrow.

We get back to Barlick and fill up with petrol before parking the bikes in Steve's garage. It's still raining. 

We are thoroughly sodden and peel the multiple layers from our bodies and spread them all over the house decorating the various radiators. Both Christopher and I are cold to the bone and take ages to warm up in fresh warm clothes.

We watch England thrash France and then have dinner, while regailing stories from our various bike trips and other gems from our lives. Despite the wet weather and England winning, it was a good day. 

Oopnarth again - Trail Day 2

Faffing around to get Christopher's big bike, the mighty Africa Twin, and we eventually get on the road. We're heading towards Steve's in 'Barlick' to meet him mid afternoon and plan to ride some trails on the way. 

Traffic is busy and Christopher is being cautious with the AT, which normal has wide panniers on either side, but not today! Once he realises that he's off, filtering as expected and we make better progress.

At Denton we head up towards the moor, which starts with a gravel path, then leads to grass. 

We open and close a few gates. Christopher struggles for traction on the grass after one gate and then take a wrong turn. We have to turn around but try to do so without leaving the track, easier said than done, and I get the front wheel stuck in a dip. I then struggle to manoeuvre the heavy bike. The clutch starts to complain with a howl, a sign that I need to stop slipping it and get moving. Eventually I'm free and back on the trail.

But now we're on the moor, which is muddy and marshy. It's single track now and in places I'm paddling for stability while riding more slowly. 

Occasionally I catch a foot and feel my soft luggage pushing on my calves. Hard panniers are not recommended for off-road riding as they can break your leg in such situations. But my left leg is starting to ache with all the paddling and dabbing only four and a half months after surgery, which is mentally compromising my riding. 

We cross a few small dips filled with water and mud that need to be taken with care and the going is tough. 

We stop and I walk ahead to see how much more of this terrain there is - it goes on for another 800m or so before reaching a wooded area that is probably firmer ground. We make a decision to head back the way we can and head for Steve's.

At the gate off the moor we meet Bernie, a local, with her dogs, in a 4x4. She asks where we've been and we tell her we've turned back as it's too boggy and that we've been sticking to the marked trail. She seems content with our answers and says that they've been reintroducing beavers in the area and have actually dammed some of the water run-offs to make it more boggy. She's concerned that some riders have been antisocial, riding off the trails and damaging the marsh.

Back down on the grass track taking care not to slip on the grass. Off the trail and we again take a wrong turn towards the Denton Hall gates, but turn around before reaching them. A van driver beckons Christopher and they get chatting. Seems Bernie has phoned down to the driver, who saw us riding up, and reported that we were polite and had been keeping to the trails, we get points for that. Trail riding in the UK, as everywhere, is a constant battle between interest groups to preserve access rights. Many bikers don't help themselves but especially trail riders as a whole but breaking the carefully negotiated rules that risks banning all bikes from the trails.

Back on the tarmac and we reach Steve's, where Snads arrives just after us and greets us with her usual tirade of jovial insults! The rest of the group join us later, Mick and Ray, Hugo, Alan Alan, and Phil.

Dinner is chilli and garlic bread which is consumed while the lads watch the women's rugby: Canada triumphs over poor NZ.

Oopnarth again - Trail Riding day

It was a bumpy night in my cabin as I tried to sleep and take my mind off whether I'd tied down the bike securely enough, and punctuated occasionally by the sound of car alarms going off in the hold. But me and the bike survived the crossing, which was actually very enjoyable as always, even if this time slightly delayed by the rough sea.

On to Christopher's and then I followed him to his storage unit where he keeps both of his bikes (don't tell Keren the bikes are not in his house!) Today he's riding his brand new (Chinese) Kove 450, a dedicated enduro bike, and a model shaped by three successful Dakar finishes last year. The ECU has had an update to make it more 'responsive', but Christopher calls it jumpy. 

A short ride to some green lane trails obtained from Christopher's freshly minted TRF membership. 

It doesn't take long for the Kove to shine and Christopher zooms ahead, the 450 almost braaaping like a two stroke. My trusty DR doesn't install the same level of confidence in me so I'm rather gingerly negotiating the slightly muddy and grassy trails. An early fall makes this all too real, but no damage to me or the bike. I need to loosen up and let the bike go where it wants...

Relaxing makes things easier and I settle into a second gear chugg letting the bike's torque pull me along at low revs - first gear occasionally where the going gets more difficult.

We enjoy a few hours of trails interspersed with road sections and then stop for a stop of lunch. An onion baji burger for me and very nice it was too with a tasty chutney relish.

Back to the lockup and the bikes are suitably painted with a layer of authentic mud.

Alas, no pictures were taken, not route tracked! 🤦🏽‍♂️