I had been planning to do the John O’Groats to Lands End run for a couple of years but had never quite got round to doing it. However, this spring I purchased a ten year old 400 Superdream and decided I'd better do something about it... all was going well until about a month before I was due to set off.
About 20 miles from home the engine went stiff and then freed itself again. The next day it was belching out thick white smoke; internal inspection revealed a well cream crackered engine. A second 400 (W reg, nasty black paint, 23000 miles) was purchased and two very enjoyable nights spent swapping parts around to get one bike from two. l had little choice, really, having committed myself to doing the run for charity.
On the day of the great trek I set off from work at lunchtime, heading for Osmotherley, just north of York. The bike ran well and, loaded with full throwovers and tankbag, pulled an indicated 60mph in third. I put this down to having treated the engine with Slick 50. Instead of following the usual A1 I went along the A614 and up the A19. Although it is slightly longer it doesn't take much more time.
I arrived at Osmotherley at about 5pm, having my pride severely dented while doing 75mph following a lorry along a dual carriageway. When l heard a horn l looked across to see a TZR125 sailing past like I was standing still; aren’t those things supposed to be restricted when wearing Leper plates? That night was my first in a Youth Hostel - something I would definitely recommend. You soon get to know people and I got talking to a BMW rider who had just walked across the moors through the night and was then hitching back again to pick up his bike - crazy!
The next morning I left, heading towards Perth. l was in Jedburgh for lunchtime and had my first experience of Scottish money. Exiting there it started to rain and it never stopped again until I was leaving Scotland three days later. I refuelled in Jedburgh and dropped the strap from the tankbag on to the hot exhaust - one melted strap replaced with two bungees. I carried on up the A68 to Edinburgh and then picked up the signs for the Forth Bridge. Across the bridge and up the M90. How can car drivers justify exceeding 70mph in the pouring rain? A mad sprint into Perth and some frantic head scratching trying to make sense of the SYHA handbook map.
During the night I woke up to what sounded like Hurricane Harry. but in the morning the wind had dropped and there was only a steady drizzle. Once out into the open country the rain got worse. the wind stronger and I got colder. Enough was enough. Down into the local services at Dalwhinnie for the meanest cup of hot chocolate you have ever seen. I felt like John Wayne hitting town, save that there was the excess of water. I continued up the A9, marvellous road, 260 miles from Perth to John O'Groats; can't get lost.
Stopped in Inverness for petrol, lunch with a Harley rider from Sweden and spending a few pennies then back on the road again. It was still raining and about 60 miles outside John O'Groats it became very foggy. This slowed me down to about walking pace but was still great fun. I arrived at a guest house at about 5pm. lt stopped raining long enough to get some postcards but the rain returned later, so I settled down to watch some football with some beer and a bunch of foreigners for company.
The next day was bright and sunny but soon started raining after I'd taken the obligatory photos of bike and town sign. The Superdream was averaging about 110 miles before hitting reserve, not bad in that it was carrying about 300 pounds plus its own mass. I made good progress towards Inverness until I was crossing Kessock Bridge there was an almighty bang and the revs went sky high; forward motion ceased!
The chain had snapped. Luckily, it had wrapped itself around the centrestand, so I put a spare split link in. This seemed to be very amusing to a bunch of CBR mounted riders - ignorant lumps, hope they seize up. My repair lasted for about two miles, which left me in a place called Glackmore and a half mile push uphill to get to a farmhouse. The farmer let me shelter in his barn whilst I awaited the arrival of the AA. As all the bike shops in Inverness were closed (Sunday) they took me the remaining 120 miles back to Perth and the Youth Hostel.
On Monday, a manic Frenchman on a Yam SRX600 gave me a lift the next morning. I bought a chain and some new gloves as mine were still soaked from the previous day's riding. Having found that the exhaust bracket was fitted the wrong way around, and therefore not stopping the centrestand from whacking the chain, the Honda was soon back on the road.
I left Perth at midday and soon the sun was shining, enabling me to take some photos at the Forth Bridge. In order to save time I took the A7 from Edinburgh to Galashiels. A fuel stop was made in Jedburgh, then back down the A68 through the sudden crests and blind summits that were announced on the road signs about every half mile. Eventually, I hit the signs for Northallerton and knew I was nearly in Osmotherley. 200 miles in six hours, an average of 34mph including loadsa stops because of a sore bum.
After a night in the hostel, I left for home, stopping in York to visit the railway museum. I followed the A19 down towards Selby and then cut across the A1042 to the A614. The toll collector on Selby Bridge waved me through without paying. Followed the A614 to Blyth services then picked up the A1 (to be avoided at all costs because it's crap) to Newark, A46 to Leicester and the A47 to Hinckley (home).
While in Leicester I went to inquire about new throwovers as mine were badly melted on the exhaust. After deciding they were too expensive l came out to a flat battery. One push start later and I finally crawled into the house at 3pm - six hours after leaving Osmotherley. The next couple of days were spent sorting the bike and getting the backside back together. The flat battery was traced to a duff regulator so the spare bike was plundered, fresh oil added and some bits cleaned.
I left for Lands End at 6.30am on the Friday. Two hours later I was pulling into the services at Newbury for breakfast (two Mars bars and a can of pop) and petrol, when I spotted a group of rather tasty female foreigners. Intending to do the Easy Rider bit, I pulled into the car park next to an expensive looking Porsche, killed the engine as I glided to a halt and jumped off, ready to fling it on to the centrestand with much grace. Being about an hour since I last straightened my leg as soon as the foot hit the floor my leg buckled under and the bike went very close to scratching the Porsche.
I left Newbury very quickly and headed for Salisbury where I picked up the A30 all the way into Lands End. The A30 is one of the most boring roads I have ever travelled. It’s okay for a while as it is a single carriageway until the Honiton/Exeter area where it changes into one of these dual carriageway cum motorway jobs. This is just a case of throttle open boredom as each town shoots past. The only moment of enjoyment was waving to another tourer on the other side.
By the time Lands End was appearing on the road signs the bum was getting very sore and l was stopping every 15 miles for a rest or standing on the pegs, an act guaranteed to keep the tin boxes well away from your tail. Finally, pulled up at Lands End at 4pm to find I was supposed to hand over five notes to get to the very end, so I took the photo in the car park instead.
Spent the night in the hostel, returned home on the Saturday morning through thick fog, heavy rain and five mile traffic jams caused by cagers getting intimate with lamp-posts. It’s about 360 miles home to Lands End and it took me ten hours.
Total mileage was 1910 miles, petrol consumption 55mpg, accommodation £45 for six nights, the replacement chain cost £20... when I got back I was disappointed to find that some of the photos didn't turn out well thanks to water getting into the camera in the throwovers despite the protection of three bin liners.
The bike is now in use as my day to day hack, and once I have sprayed the parts from the blown bike will be mildly customised next spring, inspired by the fact that it is fitted with three inch rise bars!
Shaun Malin