National Road Rally 2008

Whilst Mom and Dad were at the 105th Anniversary Harley Davidson Rally in Minehead, I was competing in England’s National Road Rally with my ex boss Bob, who rides a Triumph Bonneville.  I left on Friday evening to cover the 180 miles from Lincolnshire to Bob’s house, where I was staying overnight.  I’m sorry, but there are no pictures – we had nowhere near enough time for that!

The rally is described as a navigational scatter rally because the contestants all choose their own course having only a common final destination.  It works like this:

Controls or checkpoints are established across the country manned by volunteers from local clubs.  The controls are open for an agreed period from the official start at 2pm on Saturday until varying times on Sunday morning with the final control remaining open until the closing time of 10am Sunday.

Each entrant chooses his/her starting control and then visits a number of other controls with the aim of covering as many “official miles” as possible while ensuring arrival at the final control no later than 10am.  “Official miles” are the distances published by the organisers between each of the controls.  They are not accurate real world distances but approximations and rounded to 5 mile increments.  The controls have to be visited in sequence according to a control matrix published by the organisers showing permitted links between controls and the official miles of each link.  The maximum possible mileage is 540.

Bob and I chose to start from the “Alton” control followed by the “Winchester” control.  This is an excellent point at which to explain about the official miles/actual miles dichotomy.  The official mileage between these two is 25 but, as the “Alton” control was located the other side of Farnham and the “Winchester” control was in Eastleigh, the actual mileage was 38.

The weather as we left the first control was just fine: 18C, sunny but not too bright, not raining, no wind.  Once on the open A31 a headwind made life a little bumpy and it got worse once we joined the even more open M3.  Fortunately the return trip up the motorway and on the A34 to Newbury and beyond was made much more pleasant by the steady tailwind.  Progress was steady and uneventful up as far as Abingdon but then we started getting signs of things to come: route planning and summer weather - the rain started here.

On the route planning front Bob had made great use of Google maps while I had employed Microsoft Autoroute.  Fine tools both but sometimes things which are blindingly obvious sitting in a comfortable chair with a cup of coffee and an array of highly detailed maps & satellite images aren’t quite so obvious on a crowded wet road with only a few tank bag notes and riding against the clock.

Lesson #1 - simplify the route by all means but don’t simplify the notes!

We arrived at the Burford control (in Carterton) a little behind schedule and decided it was time we took on food and water (cheeseburgers and fine, fine, coffee) then continued up the A40 to Andoversford.  (Where exactly?  Who’s ever heard of that then?)

The trip on to Worcester was uneventful but wet.  The rain was really starting to dominate now.  As Bob handed in his card for marking he noticed that it was now wet!  It was alright, however, as it was not his tank bag leaking - just that by walking indoors with the card in his hand, a river of water cascaded down the outside of his jacket sleeve.

Lesson #2 - waterproofs carry a lot of water, especially if pocket flaps aren’t closed!
By the time we reached Stratford-upon-Avon, and located the actual control itself, we were starting to feel the cold.  The temperature must have dropped to no more than about 12C by then and it was definitely time to add more layers.  The friendly bunch running the control had provided boiled sweets for the riders and the sugar hit was very welcome.

Lesson #3 - it gets cold riding at night, wear more layers!

And so to the National Motorcycle Museum at Meriden.  According to our schedule we should have arrived there at 9:10pm.  It was nearer 10:30 when we arrived; refer to Lesson #1 above.  The museum itself was closed obviously but the control was comprised of two tents pitched in the grounds with a good supply of hot drinks, biscuits and, most importantly, towels.  Bob used the towel to dry his hands before taking up my offer of a dry spare pair of gloves (having left his spare pair at home).

Lesson #4 - leather gloves aren’t waterproof, have a spare pair!
I’m going to draw a veil over the details of the trip to Cannock, 25 official miles away, as the carefully prepared route directions were set aside in favour of a remembered shortcut to the well established transport cafe at Cannock.  The overview is: 82 actual miles and four hours behind schedule.  Fortunately, although a bit miffed at first, we saw the funny side and treated it as the comic farce of the century!

Time to review our options!

All our efforts would be wasted if we failed to get to Bletchley by 10am (and some controls on our list would be closing from 6:30 onwards).  The planned schedule was for us to arrive at Bletchley at 8am, leaving an error margin of 2 hours.  We were now 4 hours behind, not 2, so we decided to omit the Whitchurch control and ride straight to Stoke-on-Trent.  This would reduce our official mileage from 540 to 510, but it was still enough to score gold. Going straight up the M6 to Stoke meant that we were only 3 hours behind when checking in.

At Darley Moor racetrack near Ashbourne we were approached by a rider seeking chain lube - some people take their maintenance schedules very seriously indeed!  Still 3 hours behind, oh dear.

At Kegworth, the 3 hours was stretching, serious effort would now be essential.  We decided to go as quickly as we could to Bilsthorpe straight up the M1 then review options.  Unfortunately, the combination of road works, complete with lane closures, a 50mph limit, and rider fatigue meant that we sailed past J27 and had to go to the next junction and ride south again, arriving so far behind that drastic surgery was now needed.  Cutting another control would mean dropping below the gold threshold into silver. We decided to cut two as we’d still manage silver with the reduced mileage, so Gainsborough and Lincoln were both consigned to the bin.

On the ride down to Grantham Bob was puzzled by the fact that, although the sun had risen now and the rain had stopped, he felt colder than at any time during the night.  On arrival, he realised that this was because he had failed to button up his jacket, or even pull the zip to the top.

Lesson #5 - motorcycle jackets only do their job properly if they’re done up!
In conversation with our hosts at the control I remarked, with a thoroughly dejected tone, that “we’re only going to get silver”

Lesson #6 - riding all night getting tired/cold/wet and/or hungry can warp your sense of perspective!

We were the last riders to check in at Leicester before the control closed at 8:10. Bob made a quick dash for a pee and came back to find me in philosophical mood having realised that, taking the mileage down to Bletchley into account, we already had enough miles to score silver, so we could bypass our last planned control and ride straight down the M1 at a leisurely pace.  What a relief, so Bob accepted the offer of a free cup of coffee while we reviewed the ride so far … until … Bob remembered the rules and, having checked the matrix, realised we couldn’t ride straight to Bletchley, we HAD to go via Dunchurch - which closed at 9 o’clock!

We left the Fosse Riders’ club at full gallop and cut our way through the traffic out to the M69 with brutal efficiency. This was serious riding now, no more time for wrong turns, comfort braking, slowing for bends, feeling tired or any other weaknesses.  By Dunchurch we’d gained a few minutes which were promptly absorbed (and then some) by the need to refuel - 6 mile diversion - before joining the M45 for a desperate 35 mile dash to J14.

Milton Keynes - surrounds Bletchley for those of you unfamiliar with the geography - was designed by, and is maintained by, a particularly malicious bunch of highway engineers.  We were off the motorway by 9:45, but both of us could increasingly sense the glittering prize slipping out of our grasp by the sheer time soaking complexity of navigating through the maze that is Milton Keynes!

At last, and not a moment too soon, we found the entrance to the hallowed estate, drove in and stopped, right there on the entrance drive - no time for neat parking - grabbed our control cards and dashed in to the control desk bang on ten o’clock!  Having calmed down a little, adrenaline is a very powerful drug, we returned to our bikes, still sitting there on the driveway, to find we had left the keys in the ignitions.  Now we realised that we were both starving, so we made our way over to the canteen for breakfast.

Looking around we could take a little stock of the rally as a whole:

Bikes of all sizes, makes and vintages: Velocettes, BSAs, Triumphs, BMWs, Harley-Davidsons, Francis-Barnets, Royal Enfields, Hondas, Kawasakis, Yamahas, you name it. Many were being ridden two-up, including a step-thru Honda C90, which achieved gold!

Canteen and car park full of tired but happy, excited even, bikers, many far too old and respectable to still be messing around with motorcycles, most still wearing their waterproofs ready for the ride home.

Official miles: 455 (silver) - actual miles: 915 including the rides from and to home!

Knackered!!!!!!!!!!!!!!