The company that I work for throws us a summer party each year
Yeah, my workplace is pretty awesome
When I heard that this year's would be a picnic and was told where it was going to be held, I was pretty stoked. I know Laurel Creek Conservation Area fairly well, and my excitement for the whole thing only increased when I got my bike back from critical repairs last week.
Now I could have fun on the way to and from the picnic, too!
I rode up to the office yesterday morning and entrusted my steed to the parking garage behind the office (which carries a $15/day charge, so I'm unlikely to cease taking transit as my usual way to get there), worked until 3-ish, then set off for the park.
Fortunately no-one seemed to have fussed with my ride while I was in the office
Despite some construction-related road closures, a light sprinkle of rain, and the gravel-strewn driveways in the park, I arrived safely for the picnic around quarter to four.
Yes, the rain fell out of sunny skies. Just my luck!
I did hang out and chat with my coworkers for the actual event - which was scheduled for 3-7pm - taking part in the big group photo, and having a burger from the grill (because the committee that plans the events specifically checked in with me to make sure my food allergies would be accommodated).
Right down to sending me an ingredient list to confirm, and serving the allergen-free food first (there were also veggie burgers and halal burgers to accommodate other people's needs, too)
I took part in the the team challenge: we broke into 8 groups, then took on a few interesting tasks like assembling small items, completing a small jigsaw puzzle, guessing a list of terms that relate to our company's products, and - last but certainly not least - trying to thaw a t-shirt that had been frozen in a lump in a plastic bag enough to get it on one of our team members! Thanks to the knowledge and competitive spirit of my teammates, our group took first place overall - way to go Running Buffers! Our prize was first whack at the piñata.
..which turned out to be surprisingly resilient.
When it was finally persuaded to give up its contents, it was nearly 7pm. While a lot of people were still playing lawn games - cornhole, ringers, monkeybones, and spikeball were all on offer, though there were unfortunately no suitable trees for me to set up the slackline I'd brought along - I had other plans.
The trails are calling, and I must go.
I'm not sure what it says about me that, when faced with the option of either playing fun games with coworkers (whom I actually like - it's a fun company to work for, and the culture is pretty great) or blasting off on my own to get eaten by mosquitoes, you'll see me loading up on bug spray almost 100% of the time.
I mean, it's probably to everyone else's benefit - they don't have to put up with me!
It's a wonderful place to run - with a number of campsites around the park, there are toilets and water taps at multiple points easily accessible from the trails - and a decent variety of groomed and less-structured bits.
Narrower path from the boat launch
Lookout over the far end of the lake from the picnic shelter
The wind began to gust and the clouds moved in, making me wonder if the few drops of rain I'd had on the way up to the park would bring reinforcements.
Boardwalk over a marshy area
A little bit of everything, really
I was in no big rush - still rather full of burger (with no interest in seeing it again), it took me about 45mins to ramble around the 4-ish miles of trails I could do without having to go for multiple loops or retracing my steps much.
..while also mostly avoiding the park roads.
By the time I got back, there were only a handful of people left, but at least my bags - one of which contained my work laptop, another of which had my slackline and leathers - hadn't been left unattended. I had a quick post-run snack and bade the last people goodbye, left to myself to get changed back into street clothes from my run kit.
No-one showed the least surprise that I'd bailed to go run
I actually ended up catching a few minutes of rain while I rode home, which wasn't particularly enjoyable - I probably could have avoided it had I not gone for a trot around the park.
..but what fun would that have been?
I still made it home safely - even managed to ride out of the rain, and the wind from the last few miles before home dried out my leathers nicely - so while it may not have been a perfect day, it was still a pretty heckin' good one.
First, some silliness. I've been a hockey goalie for almost 30 years, and still have the equipment I used when I was back in highschool. Having spent the last few months acquiring and trying to learn to use the schmancy new technology - like pads designed to rotate on your leg and slide across the ice, and new skates with narrower blades and taller runners - I decided to see what it would be like to go back to my old kit for our weekly Wednesday night game.
Here's one of my new pads, with a big knee guard under my hockey sock, and just a few velcro straps. You can just barely see my skate, with it's 3mm replaceable blade.
..and here are the old pillows and skates, from 1994 and 1995 respectively. About 800 leather straps on each pad, and big plastic cowlings on the skates with 4mm non-replaceable blades.
I fully committed to the bit, pulling out as much vintage kit as I still had. My old jill was gone, as were my old hockey pants, but everything else was going to be oldschool!
My ancient Bauer one-piece base layer, elderly velcro shorts, and knitted hockey socks with stirrups. I even dredged up an old stick from the garage and gave it a (mostly) fresh tape job - that thing is a serious piece of lumber!
Fortunately we got to the rink early enough that I had time to think through & remember how it all goes together; the leather straps also luckily still have their kinks in them to remind me where I liked to buckle them. I couldn't believe how heavy the old pads felt, even though empirical testing shows me that my new gear is only about a 1lb total weight savings versus my old kit!
I wore my old chest protector (which is actually lighter than my new one, but not nearly as protective) and even the jersey from the goalie school I attended in both 1994 and 1995
I wasn't at all sure how it was going to turn out, but since we don't even really keep score in our games - it's basically just pickup hockey, but with the same folks each week for 10 weeks - I didn't have much to lose, unless I managed to hurt myself.
Which - after stepping out on the ice in my old skates - felt like a very real possibility!
Nothing else for it, though - I had punched my ticket and would take my ride, with my little action camera suction cupped to the glass behind me to record the carnage.
Highlights (and low lights) from which you can watch right here
I will say I actually played better than the final score would suggest: a goalie has to rely on their defensemen to tie up players in front of the net and take away cross-ice passes, but since it's pickup hockey with a group who are mostly there to learn and develop their skills, things can be a bit chaotic. I do totally own a couple of those goals, though! I couldn't believe how awkward and clumsy I felt, despite this being the kit that I have played 99% of my hockey in lifetime.
Still a hilariously good time all round, though! (and I don't actually seem to have hurt myself!)
I don't think it's an experiment I'll repeat any time soon, though: maybe pull it all out again next year for a skate, which would be the 30th anniversary for the pads, chest protector and gloves (I had a pair of goal skates I bought used for $10 from the late 70s until my dad bought those Bauer Supremes for me in 1995). While I may not be very good at butterfly style goaltending, the practice I've put in to work on the new techniques has changed the way I move such that I'm not really compatible with the old gear anymore: I truly hated the way my old skates felt (even apart from them making my feet hurt by being too narrow), and despite the pads not being built for it I was trying to slide anyway. That goal that went in over my glove as I tried to slide across? If I'd had the big, flat landing spot for my knee that my new pads have, I would have been able to keep my balance instead of falling forward, which would have kept my glove up and given me a much better chance to make the save.
I won't say I'm a good goalie in my new kit, but I'm better when the equipment isn't getting in my way
Someone in a vintage goalie gear group to which I belong commented that "it's just like riding a bike, right", to which I agreed - in that it can be a little painful if you haven't done it for awhile!
While that reunion was amusing but less than enchanting, I've just had the chance to get together with another old friend today that has been much more exciting.
SHE LIVES!
It's been almost 2 years - July 14th, 2021 - since the last time I got to ride my motorcycle. She'd fallen victim to a number of electrical issues, and wouldn't start at all. I had difficulty finding time to work on her, and eventually realized that her issues were beyond my meagre mechanical knowledge to fix. Then it became a matter of money: I figured it would probably be around a thousand dollars to have a shop work out the issues, so she sat in the garage like an accusation until I finally managed to get her in to a local dealer in mid May. They messaged yesterday to say that - after a stator & regulator replacement - she was ready to go, so I did the 90min bus trip from home up to Waterloo with a bag full of leathers to pick her up.
There's my girl! All naked without her saddlebags, windshield, or backrest..
I won't say she's running perfectly, because she's a little old and worn - I've had her since new in September 2005, and have put almost every single one of the 71,500km/44,430mi on her - but she's definitely running strong, and it felt so good to be back in the saddle!
WHEEEEEEEE!
I've only got a quick ride down to the office in Kitchener in so far, but she behaved herself well, and I sincerely hope this is just the first few of thousands of more miles together.
I brought the backrest with me so I could be more comfortable for the ride home
Now, if you'll excuse me....BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP awaits!
I had said we had some pretty exciting Tuesday plans, and they absolutely delivered the goods!
Ingredients for an amazing day
Once again - and as always, really, in Scotland - the weather was the big question mark. We'd had to book this day a couple of weeks before we left Canada to ensure we didn't miss out, and now the forecast was calling for rain starting around 11am.
Skies over the Torvean Roundabout - where we'd parked for the previous night - were enigmatic around 7am as I made breakfast
I got down to business early, cooking up rashers and eggs to give us a good lining to our bellies, while Tank brewed up another amazing moka pot of coffee to wash it all down.
I'd usually have pan-toasted the bread, but we were in a bit of a rush
I made us up a couple of sandwiches for a bagged lunch as well, grabbed a pack of cookies that I'd bought on Skye, and made sure both of our nalgenes were full of fresh water. Washroom facilities in the roundabout were a bit lacking - nothing in the park, either - but we made out as best we could, then got on the road by 8:10am.
Crossing the River Ness on the Friars Bridge
Our adventure technically was not supposed to start until 9am, but we had hopes of being a bit early and having a little extra time to get ourselves properly outfitted before setting off.
The universe, however, had other plans
So Keith - the wonderful gentleman who seems to be the entirety of the operations at Haggis Tours, with whom we'd booked a hire of a pair of Honda NC750x motorcycles for the day - apparently lives about a 5min drive away from the business location off Harbor Road. He's usually there by 8:30am, which is why we'd arrived about 8:25am to sign what needed signing and get on the road as soon as we could. Unfortunately, traffic snarls increased Keith's transit time by an order of magnitude, so it was past 9am by the time he even arrived!
While we watched the cloudcover begin to blot out the morning sun
Fortunately, he was very efficient when he arrived, and got us kitted out fully with helmets, textile jackets, trousers, and boots. I had brought a set of gloves I planned to use as being a little more comfortable and familiar: I would already be dealing with a completely different bike setup than I was used to, and given that I'd barely been on a bike in the previous year (due to mine suffering a catastrophic failure last summer) and hardly even drive a car anymore, I had some trepidations about how things were going to go!
At least it was the right colour!
It was just after 10am by the time we'd got ourselves accommodated with gear and put down our £1,000 per bike deposit plus the remaining £290 due for the hire after our £30 booking deposit. If you're keeping track, that puts the rental for the day a little over $500 CAD, but we hoped it would be worth it!
I threw a leg over, got the quick run-down from Keith on how to use the TomTom satnav unit (£5 add-on to the basic hire, but I didn't want to fuss with directions), and tentatively twisted the throttle. It took approximately 30 seconds for me to feel completely comfortable on the bike: they were so very easy to get on with, and we were soon ripping along on the A9 for a few minutes as a huge, goofy grin spread across my face!
I cannot begin to describe how joyful it was to get my knees in the wind!
Off on the A835, I found the layby shown above and pulled off for a moment, just to babble at Tank about how heckin' amazing this was!
To absolutely no-one's surprise, he was in full agreement!
We hit the A832 west, cruising under sunny, blue skies past the beautiful length of Loch a' Chroisg, pausing at another layby about an hour after setting off to drink from our nalgenes securely transported by the little top cases on the bikes.
Loch a' Chroisg
Mountains in the distance as we headed back toward the Western Highlands
The singletrack began shortly afterward, but as it was a Tuesday morning there was little traffic to worry about.
The pavement also seemed a bit better than we'd come to expect, and of course the narrow roads weren't half so tight feeling on two wheels!
As we pushed further west the landscape just became more and more impressive, particularly as we dropped onto the A896 at Kinlochewe.
The TomTom satnav was great - it was audible over the wind noise through my helmet even at cruising speed, actually displayed the speed limit (which was a laughable 60mph/95kph even on the singletrack; I can't imagine traveling that fast! We stuck at or below about 50mph), and it gave me plenty of notice for upcoming turns.
Note: I specifically put my phone in a pocket that wasn't accessible while riding, so I couldn't be tempted to try to take photos while moving. All pics were taken while stopped in laybys or car parks!
We pulled into the Beinn Eighe (File Mountain) car park in the Torridon Estate at Coire Dubh because everything just looked so spectacular.
My only uncomfortable time on the bike was turning it 'round in these gravel car parks
Towering peaks with - of course - a trail leading up them
We weren't really up for a walk at this point, in our unfamiliar motorbike boots, but no worries - nature decided to come to us.
!!!
We'd been in Scotland for basically a week and a half, and apart from giant black slugs, sheep, and crows, we'd seen no wildlife. Then - suddenly - I park my bike and there's a freakin' stag just milling about in the car park!
It was not fussed at all about people, either - it was actually blocking a family's estate wagon from leaving (standing behind it so they couldn't reverse out of their spot), and the father of the family got out of the car and basically shooed it out of the way, even touching its face to get it to move! I couldn't believe the stag didn't run off, nor the sheer boldness of this gentleman. I could not imagine just sweeping my hand along the cheek of a wild animal because it was in the way!
I did take a selfie with it though (deerfie?), because I am nothing if not a dork.
We stopped again at the Loch Torridon viewpoint about quarter to noon, our gazes floating over Upper Lock Torridon to the stunning peaks beyond.
Everything in Scotland is just so huge, but packed into such a small country!
Ok small is relative - we had decided against trying to do the full North Coast 500 because 500mi in a day is a LOT on a motorbike
Passing Shieldaig and skirting around the southern edge of the loch bearing its name, we entered the Applecross Peninsula on the tiny winding singletrack that is C1091.
We were essentially headed toward the sea
Things got decidedly more interesting as we made our way along the coast road, drifting north toward Fearnmore.
More elevation change, worse pavement, and so many blind rises and corners
It got a bit stressful, really, riding the singletrack - I found it much easier when there was a vehicle ahead of us so I could see by their taillights if I needed to slow down or pull off into a layby, but there were long stretches where it was just Tank and I alone on the road. I'd roll off the throttle quite a bit before the crest of a blind hill or coming into a turn I couldn't see through. I just didn't want to meet an oncoming vehicle head-on, which would be highly inconvenient in our trusty campervan but likely fatal on one of these fabulous bikes.
I apologized to him afterward, saying he'd probably have been able to ride much faster had I not been leading and slowing like a weenie at every bit of obstructed view - he reassured me that he was just as happy not to get creamed!
Despite all our stops along the way, by half past noon we had reached the west coast, overlooking the Isle of Rona in the Hebrides.
Population: 2 - the island manager, and his wife
Now heading due south, the road unrolled before us as it skirted the Atlantic.
Great sightlines, beautiful weather, and curves for days - I could have rode this forever!
We only made it a few more minutes before having to stop again, though, for something about which Keith had warned us before we set off, after hearing our intended route.
Specifically saying "as you ride down the coast road, you'll want to be a wee bit careful around any blind corners, as there may be heilan' coos in the road"
This happened not just once but TWICE
It wasn't great for making time, but I was just so tickled by this Scottish traffic jam!
Once the cows had moved off enough to let us through - taking our cue from the gentleman on the motorcycle coming the other way, whom we let through first - we were on our way once again toward the tiny village of Applecross. Sitting across from the Isle of Raasay with the peaks of Skye visible beyond, this home to a couple of hundred residents was only accessible by boat until 1822, when a pass was created between Sgurr a' Chaorachain (Mossy Peak) and Meall Gorm (Rounded Green Hill). Rising 625 metres/2053ft, it was used to drive cattle to market, resulting in its name: Bealach na Ba, or Pass of the Cattle.
This was what had brought us here
Our whole route was designed to let us ride this 11mi stretch of mountain pass - which was finally paved in 1950 - as it is known as one of the top motorcycle roads in the world, despite signage at the east end warning learner drivers and large vehicles to steer clear.
We couldn't resist giving it a whack
Before we did so, we stopped off at the Applecross Inn to have a look around.
Our trusty steeds, about to be joined by a Honda Africa Twin
The wee boat in the car park - it's maybe 10' long
Looking west toward Raasay and Skye
We went for a quick walk over to the public toilet after a drink of water from our nalgenes, and once again had a Scottish person hold the gate for us so we wouldn't have to pay to have a wee. With hydration levels adjusted and with my gear all back on properly (it was a bit of a process considering the suspenders on my armoured trousers), we popped over to the community pump to fuel the bikes. They didn't really need it - we honestly could likely have done our full day's riding on the full tanks with which they were given to us in the morning - but the proceeds of petrol sales go back into the community coffers to support the village's infrastructure, so we were doing our bit, even as a few drops of rain fell on us.
No time to worry about that - up the pass we went! We didn't stop on the ascent - which fortunately stayed dry - but you can watch this video that shows the route in the same direction in which we traveled (west to east).
There's a small car park at the top of the pass, so we popped in to get some photos.
Trig point with lines pointing to the Isle of Eigg, the Isle of Rhum, Sgurr Alistair (the highest Munro on Skye), Glamaig on the edge of Sligachan, the Old Man of Storr, and Loch Torridon (among other things)
The far-off Cuillins of Skye shrouded in mist
You think he's having a bit of fun?
We had great luck with traffic - any other vehicles on the road were very quick to pull into a layby when they saw bikes coming, either head-on or approaching from behind. We were grateful to share the singletrack with conscientious drivers, as it's definitely enough of a challenge on its own!
The summit is roughly in the middle, with the tightest turns on what would be our descent
I was similarly grateful that the rain held off, so we didn't have to try this on wet roads or with fogging visors!
View from the layby on the west side of the summit, where we stopped to have a cookie for fortitude before continuing!
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Looking back east, toward the summit - you can see how narrow the road is, and a bit of the rather dismal state of the pavement
Ok - let's GO!
We took it super easy on the way down - those hairpins are tight - but made it safely to another layby much further down, overlooking Loch Kishorn.
Heading back to sea level
In an interesting turn, that's the first time I've ever seen an offshore drilling rig - at the extreme right side of the loch, which is open (once you get 'round Skye, anyway) to the sea
Once we got down to Tornapress at the end of the road, we of course had to stop and get a photo of the iconic signpost.
Road to Applecross (Bealach na Ba) This road rises to a height of 2053 ft with gradients of 1 in 5 and hairpin bends. Not advised for learner drivers, very large vehicles, or caravans after first mile
We'd done it!
..and hadn't even got wet!
We looked at the cafe at Tornapress, but it had a gravel parking lot and I was still trying to manage my adrenaline levels from the Bealach, so we gave it a miss and instead turned toward Lochcarron, stopping on the roadside on the outskirts to eat our sandwiches.
Not exactly fancy..
..but you couldn't argue with the view.
Of course, once we'd mounted back up and rode into Lochcarron proper, we discovered a huge layby right at the lochside (complete with picnic tables) that would have made a perfect lunch stop!
We took a quick photo, then pushed on
It was now past 2:30pm and Haggis Tours likes to close up shop around 5pm, so we tried to make some distance. We followed the A896 as it curled around northward, then hit the A890 to get us down to the A87 at Auchtertyre. We were rolling along really well until just before the end of the road: as we approached a curve, I saw a sign that said "LOOSE CHIPPINGS AHEAD" and did not like the sound of that one bit. The reality turned out to be even worse than I'd imagined: as we entered a long downhill chicane, the road surface turned to deep, freshly-poured pea gravel, and a street sweeper truck appeared ahead of us throwing up a massive cloud of dust!
It was impossible to see past the street sweeper as the dust cloud completely blotted out everything to the right of the truck, but he was only traveling at maybe 3mph/5kph - the only thing that's worse than trying to keep a bike upright on loose ground on a downhill curve is trying to do so at walking pace! So, with no other options apparently available to me, I looked past the truck to the left (looking through a left-hand curve), and - seeing nothing coming - pulled out to the right to pass.
I have had some intense moments on motorcycles before, however this has to rank in the top 3. As I tried to pull 'round the street sweeper, he began to drift to the right side of the road (which is the oncoming traffic lane as you drive on the left in the UK), effectively trying to cut me off! He'd gone from passively trying to hurt me to actively trying to kill me, and I was NOT having it. A little more throttle (and perhaps a small prayer), and I was gratefully past him and through the immense cloud he was throwing up, with the A87 just a couple of hundred metres away. Thankfully, Tank also made it past the street sweeper safely, and we gratefully twisted our wrists on the wonderfully paved and wide-open A87 east. We'd done about 200km and it was now close to 3pm, with about another 125km to go to get back to Inverness!
There was a real thrill as we rocked along Loch Duich, once again passing Eilean Donan castle - two F-18 Eurofighters came screaming past a mere hundred or so feet off the loch's surface, almost directly over our heads! I wish I'd been able to get a photo, but they were gone before we could even have found a place to safely pull over. Apparently the RAF out of Lossiemouth conducts regular low-level maneuvers, and we'd been lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time!
We pulled over near Glen Shiel for another cookie and some water around 3:30pm, and I discussed my current state with Tank: I was getting tired, as it had been quite a long day with a lot of highly excitable moments, so would he mind terribly if we didn't ride a whole bunch more singletrack up the east side of Loch Ness? I just wanted to jam the high speed A887 to A82 and get us back before fatigue led me to make a mistake that could have nasty repercussions.
I was having fun, but I was also ready to be done, please
Once again, the universe had a bit of a laugh at our expense: we got into Invermoriston - where the A887 ends at the A82 - to discover that the heckin A82 was closed from Invermoriston all the way to Inverness! We called Keith to ask what our best course of action would be, and to let him know we'd be late returning as it was now just after 4pm. We'd have to go down 'round the south end of Loch Ness at Fort Augustus, then come up the very singletrack B-roads on the east side that I'd hoped to avoid.
We rolled as best we could, but got caught behind some very slow-moving drivers until we ditched them turning onto the B851, and tried to follow a fast-moving Nissan Navara pickup as he hurtled through what must have been familiar backroads.
A brief stop past Glendoebeg with Loch Tarff visible to the left - you can see here why the eastern side doesn't feel quite so much like Highlands as the west. You can also see the rain clouds bearing down on us
Eventually - after having to negotiate our way past a few pheasant hens in the road! - we made it back to the A9 and positively screamed across it at 70+mph to get back into Inverness. Somewhere along the way I recalled that we needed to re-fill the bikes with fuel, so we popped into the Gulf station on Harbor Road to fill just as it began to rain. As luck would have it - arriving at 5:39pm - they had closed nine heckin' minutes earlier! We called Keith once again, and he directed us to our choice of two filling stations - we ended up at the BP, having to carefully navigate roundabouts that were absolutely flowing with water.
I picked up some now-essential supplies while Tank fueled the bikes
To give you an idea of how worn out I was, by the time we turned off Harbor Road to get back to Haggis Tours and the ever-patient Keith, my attention to detail lapsed enough that I turned onto the right-hand side of the road and got very aggro with a car coming the other way straight at me!
Our total trip was 350km/217.5mi in almost exactly 8 hours
We covered a pretty respectable chunk of the country for a single day's ride!
It was only after we'd (fortunately safely) passed one another that I realized I was in the wrong. I was so grateful to pull into the yard safely and swing my leg off the bike for the last time at 6pm nearly on the nose. Keith was wonderful about checking everything in quickly and getting us on our way, reunited once more with our trusty (and weatherproof!) campervan. We had planned to head toward the Cairngorms that evening, but while Tank assured me he was good to drive, I was too utterly wrung out to navigate, so we cut our losses and headed back to the heckin' Torvean Roundabout.
At least the park across the road is quite nice
It was about all I had in me to make us some dinner and go for a bit of a stroll through the park with Tank after the rain let up.
..and after some fruit-based recovery beverages
I could have done without about the last hour or so, but otherwise it had been an incredible day - one of the best of the trip, really - and I can't say enough good things about Haggis Tours, Keith himself, and the fantastic steeds he has for hire! The Honda NC750X I rode was absolutely perfectly suited to the riding we wanted to do - high clearance for cornering, and a suspension and tyre combination that smoothed out the worst of the Scottish pavement we encountered - and was incredibly intuitive to ride. If you ever have the chance to experience Scotland by motorbike, I highly recommend you take it!
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