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.
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