Questa galleria contiene 1 immagine.
A new bike has joined my Moto Guzzi 1000 SP and my BMW R1200RT in the garage. The Kawasaki …
21 venerdì Giu 2019
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inQuesta galleria contiene 1 immagine.
A new bike has joined my Moto Guzzi 1000 SP and my BMW R1200RT in the garage. The Kawasaki …
16 domenica Giu 2019
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inQuesta galleria contiene 1 immagine.
The morning of the Saturday it is, actually, raining. I reflect that the lake District has welcomed me in the …
12 mercoledì Giu 2019
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inQuesta galleria contiene 4 immagini.
On the Friday I do not even dare to hope that I might repeat yesterday’s experience. But the morning is …
09 domenica Giu 2019
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inQuesta galleria contiene 12 immagini.
On Thursday we should have (says the Met Office) dry almost all day (with some rain at lunch time, but …
09 domenica Giu 2019
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inQuesta galleria contiene 3 immagini.
The Wednesday marks the beginning of the second part of the week. It also marks the end of my patience …
04 martedì Giu 2019
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inOn the Tuesday, the weather forecast says… rain all day; however, it is described as “light rain”. Therefore, no “emergency plan” (Holker Hall, or Muncaster Castle) and it will be riding business as usual.
Wanting to try something new, I decide to create a new itinerary directly on the Satnav. Due to the relative scarcity of roads amidst the mountains, it is done pretty fast instead of being the pain in the neck I had always imagined. The itinerary goes: Coniston, Lower Hawthwaite, Eskdale Green, Ravenglass, Duddon Bridge and back home.
The first part, the A593, is beautiful, as I have seen now many times. There is very little traffic. The rain begins at twenty to ten, and will not leave me the entire morning, though it is seldom violent. However, it is worse than “light rain”. I would call it “unpleasant rain”. Unnervingly, it never ever stops. However, it is also not quite as cold as yesterday (and I have my fleece on me) so it can be managed. Before Duddon Bridge, the itinerary makes me leave the A593. It soon becomes an unreal landscape, with almost no house in sight, much like Newlands Pass. After Ulpha things get even better, when a turn left at Birker Fell leads to sharp hairpins and an ascent towards a landscape that is now barren and windy, as in the Pennines, with more than a hint of “Wuthering Heights”.
Once arrived at Erskdale Green, it is time to turn left towards Ravenglass; a place, if you ask me, not deserving his huge, and empty, pay and display parking lot. The village also does not allow me to access its alleged splendours with the bike, albeit from what I can see there isn’t much that screams “world heritage village”. In theory, I could park the bike (for free) in the the huge park and ride lot and visit the place on foot. In practice, it is raining and I do not think the place is worth the time. Not for me, then. From Ravenglass it is down the A595, past Muncaster Castle (another one of those “emergency destinations”), but at broad oak the itinerary makes me turn left towards Waberthwaite. What follows is another long “unnamed road” (for the Garmin: I wondered what I would say to the breakdown recovery: “I am here with a flat tyre in “Unnamed road?” “), part in a barren landscape and, as I descend, in the middle of the usual thick vegetation, until I come back to Duddon Bridge. From there it is A593 to Ambleside and back to HQ in Windermere. It was three hours of very beautiful biking, but this wasn’t “light rain” by any stretch of the imagination, and the weather forecasters at BBC weather clearly got it wrong.
During lunchtime and the now traditional “power nap”, the rain has (likely, because I was asleep) never stopped. At 3:30 I ride out again, in the rain, for more explorations. Again, I expect the rain to now finally abate, because when I am told “light rain” I do not expect “hello Noah!”.
Sadly, as soon as I ride out the rain intensifies again and becomes almost torrential. I ride down the A592 to the end of the Windermere Lake, admiring the view opening itself up on my left hand side: how beautiful must this be in the gleaming sun! From there, I ride around the small roads near Finsthwaite, and from there I ride again towards Holker Hall as I had liked the roads on Sunday afternoon. This time, with incessant rain, it is not so exciting, and whilst I can still appreciate the rugged beauty of the British Countryside in the rain, I must say I am starting to have enough of all that ruggedness, and could really do with some old sun, and warmth, and smiling landscapes, and blue skies. Not happening, though, as the rain keeps coming down like there is no tomorrow. I ride past Holker Hall until Cark, where I make a u-turn and back north , whence I follow the little roads to Hawkshead. All this time the rain is strong, without interruption. The landscape is predictably fascinating, in a slowly unnerving way. The temperature is still bearable. However, once in Hawkshead I decide that the warmth of HQ is just what the doctor ordered, and head back home via Ambleside once again.
As I arrive at headquarters at 5:40 PM it is still raining strongly, really 130 minutes of uninterrupted, strong rain. I am perfectly dry but, this time, all the external pockets of my suit have “given up the fight” and there is water ingress, if in limited measure, in all 4 of them.
One hour later, as I write my travel notes, the rain is still strong.
Damn “rugged beauty”. Couldn’t you try to be a bit more like Tuscany every now and then?
And so another “typical day” in the Lake District (beautiful, cold, wet) has gone to an end. With sadness, I realise this is now half the holiday, unless I attach the night to Sunday in the end. I am, frankly, fed up with the rain, after I have ridden almost all of the time under it today, and never encountered the “light rain” I was promised.
I am done with BBC weather. From tomorrow, it’s going to be Met Office.
Summa summarum: The Lake District is so beautiful that you even want to go out riding in the rain. However, you will have to want to go out riding in the rain if you want to enjoy this place; then if you prefer to wait for rain free days to go touring, this place is most certainly not for you.
I would honestly not want much more of this. The Lake District better deliver drier days from now on…
03 lunedì Giu 2019
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inDay 3 has already arrived, and the weather forecast says “dry”.
As I rode along the A591 yesterday, this morning I decide to go for the A592. This is the road which, from Windermere itself, leads to the Kirkstone Pass and thence to the north, along the Ullswater; where, almost at the top of the lake, you should actually leave the A592 and continue along the B5320 towards the rather nice Pooley Bridge, where you can make a U-Turn and repeat the entire experience.
This is, in fact, exactly what I do. I would have ridden more, but only ten minutes in the ride I was already persuaded that leaving the fleece home wasn’t the smartest of moves. In fact, it is uncommonly cold even for this part of England, and temperatures around 10 C actually shorten the riding morning. It is even too cold for a short stop in Ambleside, and I ride straight back to HQ. In theory, I could take the fleece and continue riding; in practice, it is a warm tea and some relaxing before an early lunch. Still, I rode almost 2 hours with beautiful views and no traffic; it was a very nice morning, but now I really feel the need for a warm home….
The afternoon is, also, very soon told. As I start, I seem to hear a familiar sound, and a Moto Guzzi V7 (one of those with full chrome petrol tank) rides along as I get out of the small driveway. The sound is rather mute, though, and it does not send that tingle down your spine that an old carburetors Guzzi would. Still, this is already the second Guzzi in three days and, at this point, I do not know that… it will also be the last one. There will, therefore, be no sighting of a V85TT, and I will keep wondering how they sound for the time being.
As it is forecast dry and I am now wearing my fleece, I decide to go for a faster experience than the usual roads I love. Therefore, I ride straight to Kendal and, from there, I get the A6 (which is, as I remembered, great fun) towards the north until around Lowther. From there I get out of the A6 and waste some time on the local roads, before deciding to have another fast-ish ride, along the A66, all the way to Cockermouth.
All the way? Well, not quite! You can also get to Cockermouth via the Whinlatter Pass, where I have been yesterday. And so Whinlatter Pass it is, and today it is, with the sun, way better than yesterday. So much so, that once in the vale I make a u-turn and ride it again, and then again for the third time on my way to Cockermouth.
Cockermouth, the birth place of the great poet William Wordsworth, is a fairly pleasant place, and I remember it for a strange event two years ago, when I rode ahead of the hail on the bike and found the place very inviting with his dry roads, only to be reached by the hail just minutes after arriving in town.
It is sunny this afternoon, but I decide I do not want to stay, because I have planned a stop in one of those awfully nice little villages you encounter in this region: Elterwater. I therefore ride there via the fastest route the Satnav can find and reach the small, but picturesque village around 4:30 PM. The weather is, at this point, not really sunny, with the sun going to and fro behind the thick clouds. I sit outside and enjoy my beer, thinking that the weather is doing fine after all. A dangerous thought to have, this one…
After the pint, I ride back home because, having ridden enough for the afternoon, I actually want to enjoy some time in Windermere itself.
Therefore, it is back to HQ, where I change into “usual biped clothes” and have a stroll in the pleasant late afternoon in the city…
After the walk, I relax in the patio again, trying to catch the light effects of the sun with the camera, and failing spectacularly. Still, the tea consoles me.
A beautiful and absolutely dry day ends here, with only 155 miles ridden, but gaining beautiful glimpses of the life in the Lake District outside of a bike’s saddle.
02 domenica Giu 2019
Posted Uncategorized
inThe morning of the Sunday the weather forecast is so-so: rain in the morning, hopefully dry in the afternoon.
I get up fairly early and am on the bike at around 8:20. As I have just moved, I stop to get the water pearls out of the bike’s instruments. My boot slides on the ground and I almost drop the bike, on Day 2, in the driveway. It turns out a wet twig has given way under my boot, and almost caused a big embarrassment. I am not very big (something more than 72kg) and this is what could have happened when things go wrong with a big bike. I keep wondering whether a Moto Guzzi V85 TT would make these things easier. I am afraid I know the answer.
I ride on the always beautiful A591 on almost deserted roads. The grey skies deliver on their promise, and at 9:10 it begins to rain. It will rain for the rest of the morning, uninterruptedly, at times violently.
Welcome to the Lake District.
The landscape is beautiful, and the rain adds more drama to it. It’s a bit of a “Wuthering Heights” with way more trees. It is very British in its own, very wet way. I follow another itinerary prepared at home and ride for a couple of hours, as the rain does add to the drama but slowly subtracts to my own body temperature. The heated seat and grips help but, once again, what allows me to ride for a couple of hours in the strong rain without becoming a riding sponge is the laminate suit. I cannot stress enough that equipment is key to a comfortable motorbiking experience.
The road is fairly simple: along the A591, touching the Windermere and Thirlmere lakes, as this is the road I remembered best from my former visit in 2017. Then around following the route. The route leads me to three passes: the Whinlatter Pass, the Honister Pass and the Newlands Pass starting from Buttermere (I have written about the Newlands Pass in 2017; I just did not call it that way!). At some point the cold begins to be felt. At that point, all the way back home via the same A591. The rain does not impair the motorcycling experience and, in moderation, adds spice and a new perspective to it. What it also does, though, is to shorten the riding time, as riding in the rain makes one long for a warm tea in the cosy atmosphere of one’s own rented cottage. It’s not really a physical experience (you don’t feel “cold” so easily if properly dressed), rather a perceived one: the insistent rain makes you long for that warm tea, followed by the fuzzy feeling of the kitchen going, and the garlic slowly frying in the pan. Therefore, at home for lunch time.
After lunch and another “power nap”, I decide to head for the Southern Lakes as there are a couple of places there I do not remember (willfully) visiting.
Firstly, I head for a place called Borrow-in-Furness. It is on the sea, and I have never (willfully) headed for the sea whilst in the Lake District. The place remains below my, probably unrealistic, expectations. This is no “seaside” destination. Huge industrial structures cover at times the sight of the sea, and always dominate the landscape. BAe Systems is truly huge. I head for the “end of the road”, looking for the sea view, and… access to the vast port installations is not allowed to those who don’t work there. I ride back and console myself thinking that I have, likely, not missed much.
After Burrow I head towards Ulverston. Ulverston is an old market town, but it does not look to me as if it had ever been exceptionally prosperous; more of a working town environment if you ask me. The place that seem to have worked as the “showcase” is the Coronation Hall. On that square, in front of the Hall, is the recently installed statue of Laurel and Hardy, as Stan Laurel was actually born here.
From Ulverston I ride to Holker Hall. I do not want to visit Holker Hall today (it is cold and windy but fairly beautiful in the meantime, with plenty of sunshine), but rather keep it in “reserve” if I get the disgraceful all-rain morning, as riding in the rain is all nice and dandy, but only in the proper measure.
Holker Hall is closed at the time I arrive, but I immortalise both the entrance gate and my ride near it. There are pleasant roads around there, and I indulge a while in the surrounding countryside as the afternoon keeps being pleasant. After that, I decide to head north, towards Coniston Water.
Once there, I ride around the entire lake. I start from the West side, which is the one with the more frequented roads. At the north end of the lake, I follow the indication for Brantwood. Brantwood was the holiday residence of John Ruskin, celebrated art critic of the Victorian era. It is easy now to mock Ruskin and his age as stuffy and, well, outdated, but I have great respect for the Victorians. They were certainly lovers of beauty, but most of all they were tough, brave people: hard workers, manly men, strong women, people who vastly enlarged an already vast de facto Empire (and made of it a proper, huge, de iure one) instead of asking for “safe spaces”. Navel gazing was not for them. They were people who went out and, actually, did stuff. They would watch the BBC today and think that we have gone mad. Which we, very probably, have.
John Ruskin had, as already stated, a place here. On top of a hill overlooking the water with a West prospect, the place affords a view fitting for a Billionaire. You can enjoy pretty much the same view, with the added pleasure of riding a bike, if you follow the road that coasts the lake from the East side. It is a small, slow, winding road, which requires care when crossing another vehicle; but it rewards you with ever changing variations of the wonderful view of the lake below. Definitely, Ruskin knew a thing or three about beauty. Unfortunately, the Streetview picture here below does not begin to give the idea of the glory of the view from the rider’s perspective.
After the beautiful “Ruskin Experience”, I ride back at HQ, along roads now without big crowds as it is already 7:30 PM. I sit out at the table with biscuits and a cream coffee. It is a tad cold, and more than a tad late, but I don’t know whether I will be able to do it again, so there…
After that, inside for dinner.
190 miles today; showing that the day can be beautiful in the rain, too, if taken in moderation.
01 sabato Giu 2019
Posted 2019 Lake District, Uncategorized
inThe latest “cottage holiday” (my fifth in total: one week of rented cottage, plus an optional day on the way back depending on the weather) starts in the morning of Saturday, 1 June 2019. It is a perfect day, with only a few clouds in a very blue sky, giving some (irrational) hope that the rest of the week may follow the example.
The engine starts at 7:48. The first – and boring – part of the day is very simple: as fast as I can to Harrogate. This means the dratted M25, then the M11, then the A1 straight to Harrogate.
The weather keeps being good as I progress. There is still very little traffic, no accidents, no queues and no Nazi Nannies. It truly is a beautiful day and the perfect start of the ride. The only little fly in the ointment is the almost total absence of the rapeseed fields I like so much; but one should never try to be too happy…
Before 11 am I am already out of the A1 and heading towards Harrogate, but the sky has been overcast for a while now. I refuel at the big Sainsbury’s at the outskirts of Harrogate. It is now after 11 on a Saturday, and the shopping crowd is out in force. I crawl out of endless queues of cars and slowly pave my way out to the open roads. The plan is now to cross an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty that I have never visited, the Yorkshire Dales, on my way to the 2019 HQ in Windermere, Cumbria.
The road, carefully planned at home, leads me through a stunning scenery. It reminds me of the Peak Districts, but with fewer and lesser… peaks. Also, I notice the same dry-stone walls (love those!), and the same houses with stone masonry: brown/biscuit the newer ones, darker the older ones. As nothing is perfect in life, it starts to rain just after leaving Harrogate. The rain will not leave me for the rest of the ride.
I first ride on the A59, then it’s the Greenhow Hill Road to Greenhow Hill, hence the B6265 to Threshfields, when the B6160 takes over all the way to Buckden. From there I ride to Hawes via Yockenthwaite. Then it’s west on the A684 to Kendal, where I am already in the Lake District AONB. A police road block (motorbike accident!) causes a slight delay, but I am in Windermere at 2:20. The rain is now insistent, but the sunny morning is still fresh in my mind and I am not fazed at all, still thinking that the weather during the following week will “likely” be good. Oh, the capacity of human nature for endless optimism!
I Collect the keys and ride to the nearby HQ for this holiday. This is my fifth rented cottage and is, by far, the best: spacious, conveniently located, picturesque, with a quiet patio at the back and reserved parking (very useful in Windermere), with only a short walk to the shops and pub. It is a converted chapel, but pretty modern on the inside, meaning that there are no little bugs crawling out from thousand little crevices as it happened in the “character cottage” in the Cotswolds. However, that cottage had a glorious garden complete with a small army of bumblebees, whilst this one only has the nice patio, albeit near a still quintessentially English church. I tell you now that the nice patio will not see massive use, for the reasons you have already imagined.
I buy something to eat and decide to “eat a morsel” in the new cottage. After a “power nap” ( I love power naps, and love calling them that way because it makes it sound less lazy…) it is past five and the rain has ceased. Dutifully rested, I decide to go out for another round, on a short route inspired by Stirling Moss’ book, “Great Drives in the Lakes and Dales”. It is a round trip touching Ambleside, Skelwith Bridge, Elterwater, then along the B5343 (Side Gates Road) to Wilson Place, then Coniston and further east to Hawkshead. Hawkshead is a truly nice little village, and I plan to ride back and spend some time if I can. The rain comes and goes, but it is still manageable.
At this point I ride back to Windermere via Ambleside and conclude the day. This little afternoon ride went on for around 90 minutes of bliss, saying “hello again!” to the glorious Lakes landscapes.
It is past seven when I go back to HQ, and discover that I have no olive oil for my meat. Not happening. A short walk to the grocery and Bob’s your uncle, showing once again the convenience of not having your HQ in the middle of a shop desert. It is the evening of the Champions League Final (a Juventus supporter, I have already cried my tears on this), and the people outside the pub are already visibly drunk, and screaming pretty loud, twenty minutes before the start of the match between Liverpool and Tottenham. I wanted to pop in and watch the last twenty minutes, but perhaps better not. However, I see (and hear first from behind!) a beautiful Guzzi Griso, black, on my way home from the grocery store. This is the first Guzzi of the holiday. A good sign. Talking of Guzzis, I have not seen a new V85 TT in the metal yet. Will this trip be the right time? We will soon know…
Dinner , some TV watching (what a decline compared to Netflix!) and extensive notes writing before going to sleep. The day ends with a couple of reflections.
The first one is this: laminate motorcycle suits are a great thing. They look a bit like an armour (at least mine, which is several years old), but the rain never soaks the suit. This means no getting cold and feeling miserable because of a soaking wet jacket, even if with waterproof membrane. In the end, a laminate jacket makes riding in the rain for hours a way more comfortable proposition. I can only recommend the small sacrifice in suppleness (but you get accustomed to it) for the advantage of riding in the rain for hours without feeling miserable and then go out again, with a dry suit, a couple of hours later as I did today. Laminate suits have become fairly afoordable nowadays. I can only recommend one.
The second reflection is about the weather. Lake District means rain. One needs to embrace the concept and accept it as part of the landscape, like the trees. There will be some sun, but to expect a sunny day in the morning is to prepare oneself for a disappointment. It will rain when it has to rain, and it will stop when it’s time for the rain to stop. I think this is the only way to visit this beautiful part of the Country without feeling shortchanged, or desiring one were in Southern France.
355 miles today.
Beautiful day overall, even with the rain.
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