Wales trip day 5 and heading home – written a few days after getting back

An interesting time, at a kind of crossroads or fork in the path. I’m not sure which it is, or a liminal period.

I got back on Tuesday from a short motorcycle camping trip to north Wales, via Ludlow where I stopped in to visit Jane Robinson my old PhD supervisor – which I mentioned earlier. The choice to investigate north Wales came after Jane made contact and invited me to see her and have lunch. Before that I was planning to revisit the Yorkshire dales and then head further north to Scotland and a particular forested area where there are meant to be some good gravel path routes. So I was quite curious to visit a new part of the UK for me but compared to trips to Europe, UK motorcycle trips lack a certain excitement that is guaranteed without any special effort – just by choosing and planning to go to a far flung, exotic place. And at the back of my mind has been a question that I was trying not to allow to develop too much – how much longer do I want to keep making these annual and heavily anticipated and planned for motorcycle trips? Is the original excitement and even intrepidation wearing off? And that thought re-emerged riding in Wales. Some of the routes were beautiful and fun to ride, but some, particularly where there was a stream of cars, really not that much fun even though they were included in the Bikers Britain Best Routes. As ever I was toying with the idea of coming home a day early. Then I arrived at the last campsite, set in a farmer’s field, surrounded by loudly mooing close-up cows, with some basic facilities (three composting toilets and a open air wash basin) but absolutely no shade – and the sun was now unexpectedly hot – hitting 30 degrees. Part of me feels that this style of ‘almost like wild camping’ campsite is a little cynical and is an excuse for not investing much in the site – but this was not expensive so it is fair maybe. And perhaps in a different mood I would have enjoyed it more. Another thing to mention is that at both campsites I stayed, I chatted to people who were walking. At the first site two young guys – one of whom was sweet and articulate who was wearing what I thought was a really stylish top but turned out that he was wearing it back to front. These walkers obviously have a very different pace to motorcycling and the man at the second site told me that he had also experience of motorcycling and cycling trips which I found a little confusing as I had thought of the people that do these different activities as fundamentally different groups, not the same people doing different things. This is all a preamble to the main event which was a tumble off the bike on a steep country lane trying to squeeze slowly past a car and landing heavily on my side in a lot of pain. I mentioned it in the last post. The miracle of then getting the bike upright and moving again (walking trying to slip the clutch but also hold the bike from rolling backwards) on this steep lane is another story, then dropping it again once I got to the campsite. It was 2 parts bad pain but 3 parts, at least, anxiety about how would I pack up and get home. Before I lay down to sleep, I was considering staying another night in the tent and having an ‘easy’ day walking and hopefully would be in less pain a day later. But a painful difficult night on the ground made it pretty clear that I needed to get going. The ergonomics of the campsite – sinks that were far too low with a crazy pain etc. were just not working. But waking up at 6am in pain and crawling around to get my clothes and boots on made me think that I would not be able to pack let alone climb on the bike and ride the couple of hundred or so miles home. I got up to make some coffee but as I waited for the water to boil, I began to feel so panicked that I almost fainted and had to lie down on the bench. Somehow though, with the help of Brufen and taking things very, very slowly I got everything packed up. I had the feeling that the action of climbing on the bike would not be agonizing as some other twisting movements were – and still are as I write this – so I climbed on and rode carefully out of the site. I rode past the turning to the steep road that was the scene of my undoing and carried on until I joined the A5 and then it was major roads all the way home which started at least as a kind of relief. After a couple of hours, I could definitely feel the pain killers wearing off but on the M6 had to keep going for much longer than I wanted to before a service station appeared, so even moving the indicator and shifting my weight was becoming painful. But after a dose of brufen at the service station, waiting half an hour, followed by a dose of paracetamol I set off on the rest of the journey eastwards to Cambridge. The M6 turns into the A14 and that goes all the way to the outskirts of Cambridge.

Details
Offa's Dyke to Cambridge

It was hot (I just noticed from my video that it was 34 degrees when I arrived in Cambridge) and there was heavy traffic so it was not enjoyable riding. I just wanted to get back. Eventually I arrived in Cambridge through the very familiar Girton Road toward the city centre then got to Davy Road where someone had lined up wheelie bins across the entrance to the garage, giving me anxiety as I squeezed through. I managed to get changed, unpack the bike, lock it up and throw what I needed to bring home into a bag and walk slowly to the station and sat on an air-conditioned train to Blackfriars. I don’t know if you can see how uncomfortable I was from the picture here.

That’s the narrative. Now the reflection is partly prompted by H voicing her anxieties about my habit of riding a motorcycle. In my mind now, adding up the questioning and fear of a waning of enthusiasm about biking that I mentioned earlier, my asking how long do I really want to keep doing this, my sense of being quite different to much of motorcycling culture, it feels like I am entering a period of deciding about this. One of my instincts is to just throw more money at it – I was checking out body armour: it can be both extensive and expensive, then I’d need a different style jacket to go over the top… Then there is the lure of trading in for a lighter bike… as I originally dreamed about along with the building of a workshop in Suffolk. Maybe a KTM 690 or a Honda… (recently, after another fall, and being unable to lift the bike, I thought about the Yamaha Serrow – 20 horse power).

But I have forgotten to mention the details of the tumble. I fell on my right side and when I hit the ground I had the feeling of something inside my abdomen bumping into the inside of my ribcage – whatever that actually means in terms of injury. (I think my boots stood me in good stead. One was stuck under the bike but eventually I lifted it enough to move). But the effect is that I have intense pain in my side when I make certain slight twisting movements: even burping sends some muscles into painful spasm. The next day at home I went to the doctor who thought it might be an inflamed nerve judging by the pattern of pain as she palpated and I have had an xray, but no result yet. I’ve since read quite a few m/c riders talking about the pain of cracked/broken ribs and their experiences of strong pain killing meds – constipation and hallucinations. I have the feeling that though, very painful, I have not broken any bones. (I finally got the xray result and I did fracture a rib). I am finding just now that regular Co-codamol does protect me from the worst of the pain. Nights are the most painful time, getting into and out of bed, or any movement from my back to my side while lying down. And I am in a mood of anxiety and suspended routine, but with my routine, habitual thinking, just starting to re-emerge.

walk in xray dept at Guys hospital

KTM bike in a barn with rider in front

Camping on the land post-work

1st April 2023 was the start of a new part of life and to draw a line of sorts under the routine that went before, I decided to ride up to our land (half an acre of land with an old barn without services) and spend a few nights camping (instead of sitting at my desk). It would also be a testing ground for my trip to Norway later in the year, a chance to try some new devices too.

It wasn’t a huge trip. Here’s the overall map.

Just under 200 miles in total.

First, thoughts about the weather and the impact that had. This Spring has been cold and wet here, slow to come. I was lucky in a way for my few days in that the days were sunny and, if you were in the sun and out of the wind, warm. In fact just warm enough on Tuesday to mow the whole field without a shirt – it takes most of the day to do. But as soon as it started to get dark, the temperature fell and the nights were (forecast to be) 2 degrees c. The grass, and my tent, had frost on it in the morning. That’s a first for me.

I have two sleeping bags. I think of them as a southern and a northern European version. I packed by Rab Ascent 900 (I think) which is a down bag and super toasty, though it takes up a lot of room in a pack – 3 or even 4 times the volume of my Mont Bel lighter bag – so its quite a commitment to pack for a journey. So at 9pm I crawled into it with long johns, thermal socks, three layers including a Patagonia quilted jacket – and fell asleep. I awoke during the night of course and was over heated and removed layer after layer and was still too warm. But I noticed that the outside of my sleeping bag was wet with condensation and so was the inside of the tent. In the morning I discovered that the foot of the bag where it rubbed up against the tent was very wet. I felt confident that all would dry out in the warm sun the next day but wondered whether this would trouble my camping in Norway where the next day may well be wet. (Mo I Rana is 9 degrees high and 4 low – that’s the furthest north and other cities seem to go no lower than 10 or 12 degrees coldest, though rain is frequent). I need to decide whether I need to take this large bag….

For the second night I slept in the barn on a makeshift bed, next to my bike.

I’ve been gathering some new kit and gadgets over the winter for my trip. Here’s a summary of what worked well and what didn’t and what problems I need to sort out before June 12th:

The helmet – Nexx Viljord flip front

Occasionally it was totally comfortable and at times really so uncomfortable you want the ride to end. Nice in the city to ride with the lid open. Riding at speed with the lid up is possible but not for long. Moving it around the head helps and opening it for a spell then closing again also helps. Needs wearing in big time.  At times I thought this just will not work and I need to swallow the fact I’ve wasted £350 and try the Schuberth again and get some proper fitting advice.

Sena 20s Evo bluetooth headset

Works well clear and loud. No crackling or distortion. Which way turns it up and can the radio be got to work? A good buy though I didn’t use the earbuds that I had made (£180) as I didn’t need to because the sound was loud enough but also the helmet was too tight. 

Trangia stove

Is heavy and takes up valuable space but the adjustment of the flame is superb. Lights easily. I used the frying pan and the useful kettle but not the saucepan that I took. It’s a different experience to the lightweight stove I had before. It’s an end to perching and instability. I don’t think I’m going to go back.

GoPro Hero 11 camera

Easy to use and nice to see what I’m filming which you can’t do with the Sony. The 1/4” adapter mount is useless because it doesn’t tighten enough so if not level to start with, it slowly tilts back till headshots from the handlebar mount end up as sky shots. I will use the ball mount instead. That might be better made. 

Sony action cam – its not new just newly mounted

The waterproof container got locked somehow so buttons didn’t work and I failed to record some things. Also the remote refused to find the camera as it often does and turning it on by hand is uncertain, even when unlocked. I need to sort this so that I know when it is turned on. Not knowing is not good enough.

Rollei travel tripod

this is a new piece of kit. Is easy to use, quite small and light to pack. I set it up when I arrived and kept it around and used it a lot. Is a game changer for self filming. Would I use it on campsites or by the roadside? Maybe not. Looks good. Versatile as all my cameras have a thread and the GoPro adapter doesn’t slip on that because you tend to use it level.

Hario Coffee filter dripper for One

Again, it takes up more room than the GSI dripper that folds completely flat – but that had design faults. This delivers a much nice and more predictable cup of coffee and does not sag, bend or get stuck on top of the cup. This is a keeper – and only cost a tenner.

 

Granuloma trauma

Its always hard to judge what to make public and what is best kept to yourself – but if you search for granuloma on the net you find some informative personal stories – I nearly wrote personal traumas – of this condition so I am adding one. This year has involved a couple of traumas for me so far but the granuloma trauma is sufficiently distant to write about it. Granulomas are a skin growth that can emerge anywhere but sometimes, for the particularly lucky, they are on the face or lip. Mine started as what first appeared to be a herpes sore on my lower lip but then outstayed the normal 5-7 days and kept growing. After 3 weeks I took it to my GP who searched on Google images but could not diagnose it. He referred me to a maxilo facial unit and an appointment was scheduled for three weeks hence. Unfortunately between then and the appointment not only did this keep growing but I had an international conference which I was organising to attend and do a great deal of appearing in public. Though I never believed that this was malignant or there to stay, this was a sudden initiation into the experience of disfigurement, of people glancing twice or of me feeling they were, of avoiding a chat with my neighbour, of sitting with my hand over my mouth at meetings. I was shocked by how powerful and constant my consciousness of this minor disfigurement was. The conference involved lots of speaking to a full auditorium with my face projected twenty feet tall on a screen behind me. This was great timing. Some people would ask me about it but most ignored it. This growth had the habit of bleeding profusely if I drank a hot drink, and in the shower and my hotel pillow would be stained with blood in the morning. This was ghastly. The conference over and, uncharacteristically for me, I lobbied my GP to try to bring my appointment at the hospital forward. Even an extra week with this would be terrible. In the meantime, because it changed from being more like a large red pea (picture 1)

into a small crusty carrot shaped thing (picture 2),

I realised, using Google again, what it was – a granuloma. The clinic said they could fit me in early and I arrived before it opened and was prepared to camp there all day if necessary. I had sandwiches, a flask and plenty of work to get on with. I was seen before 10.30. Once in the chair I was told that it was not normal to have these removed at the first visit (I don’t know why).  Again, uncharacteristically, I insisted and they agreed. An injection of lignocaine and adrenaline in my lip turned it into a large flapping piece of liver approximately a foot wide then there was the slight sawing sensation as Mr Granuloma was being separated from me, and then some unimaginably neat needlework was done, three stitches in a little quarter inch wound. At this point I started to travel somewhere very strange and was given lots of glucose drops by the surgeon and her assistant. They encouraged me not to hurry out of the chair as the paperwork would take forever anyway. In the recovery room I talked to someone who had had her jaw broken and reset for a reason I did not quite understand. See picture 3 for the finished result (of my lip, not her jaw)

John Martyn dies

To be honest I hadn’t thought about him much since the late 70s early 80s when everyone I knew in Cambridge seemed to be playing his records and trying to sound like him. But now that I am listening to him singing ‘When the hurt in your heart is gone’ I am completely blown away by the power and emotion of his music. I must get hold of that album Grace and Danger and get back in touch with this genius.

Getting to know the Asus EEE pc

I took delivery of this little toy yesterday and so far am not too impressed with it. It seems hopeless at connecting to wireless networks. I connected to one unencrypted network but my own seems to cause problems. Isn’t this kind of computer called a ‘netbook’? The ‘net’ part ought to be easy. The keyboard is pretty small and so is the screen but I think these will just take some getting used to. I hate the ‘simple’ interface which seems to be aimed at small children and I haven’t found out how to get back to the normal Linux desktop. The webcam works with Skype which is hopeful. Battery life is ok but not impressive…

One more thing to do

I wake up on Saturday mornings with optimism and feeling the day stretched out before me. Since my old unlocked mountain bike was stolen before Christmas everything has taken so much longer on foot. My pedometer told me that Saturdays usually clocked up well over the 10000 paces that our intrusive government commands that we all walk per day (when we are not eating our 5 pieces of fruit and vegetables preferably different colours). The idea of buying or building a new bicycle has been in my mind for a while and this morning I bought from The Bike Man 3/4 of a 2nd hand bike, an old racing frame in 531 Reynolds tubing plus a beautiful black rimmed front wheel, a mavic (I think) on a nice Campagnolo hub – believing that I’d be able to pick up a matching rear. Of course it isn’t that easy and Mr Grumpy in our local bike shop says – or rather just implies that I’ll need luck to get a new wheel to fit an old frame. I hate this gloomy ‘can’t do’ stuff you get from some shopkeepers who maybe years ago could get enthusiastic about a project that someone brings into the shop. And when I burble away ‘oh yes I’ve come a bit unstuck in the past building bicycles with that kind of thing etc.’, the reply is – nothing. However, a new rear is being built for me while the rest of it sits in the back garden looking not exactly promising (now covered in penetrating oil). I am determined to make it work though. And with some luck for under £200. That’s cheaper than the beautiful Genesis fixed gear bike I was admiring outside Birkbeck College the other day. Pictures to follow.