This is Rob's story of the epic ped tour that he took with a group of pals, to raise money for a very worthy cause...and hopefully have some fun on the way!
Hi ,
Some of you may have been aware i have been getting a c70 ready to do the above for nearly a year now.
The basics were to raise as much cash as possible for a teenage cancer ward thats being built at Nottingham city hospital , through a charity called Brad's cancer Foundation www.brads.org.uk/.
All of the riders and support crew are members of Volkzone International ,Classic Vw Forum (VZI) , most had never met and a fair few had never even considered riding a bike before this !
If you would like to donate please do so through this link www.justgiving.com/JOGLE4BRADS
So Day 1,
Was spent driving from kent to Norfolk in our '67 Splitt to stay at a guy called Andy's house , we had met for 10 minutes and chatted through VZI about his c50 chop project.
We arrived in pouring rain at about half 10 with a bottle of wine and the hope of relaxing ! No chance Andy and a few others were still modifying the trailer to fit all of the bikes on , so we got stuck in and finished at about 1am !
Andy's house;
Hi ,
Some of you may have been aware i have been getting a c70 ready to do the above for nearly a year now.
The basics were to raise as much cash as possible for a teenage cancer ward thats being built at Nottingham city hospital , through a charity called Brad's cancer Foundation www.brads.org.uk/.
All of the riders and support crew are members of Volkzone International ,Classic Vw Forum (VZI) , most had never met and a fair few had never even considered riding a bike before this !
If you would like to donate please do so through this link www.justgiving.com/JOGLE4BRADS
So Day 1,
Was spent driving from kent to Norfolk in our '67 Splitt to stay at a guy called Andy's house , we had met for 10 minutes and chatted through VZI about his c50 chop project.
We arrived in pouring rain at about half 10 with a bottle of wine and the hope of relaxing ! No chance Andy and a few others were still modifying the trailer to fit all of the bikes on , so we got stuck in and finished at about 1am !
Andy's house;
Day 2,
Woke up with flat air bed and alarm at 6am , time to hit the road and collect other riders in the mini bus and get bike loaded onto the trailer ,
Trailer fully loaded ;
Woke up with flat air bed and alarm at 6am , time to hit the road and collect other riders in the mini bus and get bike loaded onto the trailer ,
Trailer fully loaded ;
We stayed that night at another VZI member's house just out side of Glasgow - it were very nice
Another night with a flat air bed and up again at 6am for shower then back on road to John O Grotes, (via a camping shop for new air bed ) we hit JOG that evening and I was reunited with my c70 ( now with rebuilt c50 engine installed) and had a quick blat around site before we got the tent up and attended the meeting at bar.
JOG camp site;
JOG camp site;
Both me and the girlfriend ( Mz Simson s51) start miles;
Day 3 ,
Up at 6am after a cold night in thermals , luckily most of the snow had melted but there was enough about on the hills and fields and all the locals had said if we were 3 days earlier we would have been snowed in !
JOG starting photos;
Up at 6am after a cold night in thermals , luckily most of the snow had melted but there was enough about on the hills and fields and all the locals had said if we were 3 days earlier we would have been snowed in !
JOG starting photos;
My bike;
Probaly worth explaining about the bikes taking part now , our group had 9 c50s including one hard tail chop and 2 lacs and a cl 50 , there was a monkey bike group ! fizzy group , 2 twist and go groups and 'the slow shits' wich cosisted of Caminos manily and a 60's Raleigh wich I wil speak more of later.
The first day riding shots;
First days riding totaled about 150 miles and took us to Borlum , near Loch Ness.
Didn't get any shots of the campsite as I was too busy in the 'garage' helping doing a clutch swap - don't use car oil !
Didn't get any shots of the campsite as I was too busy in the 'garage' helping doing a clutch swap - don't use car oil !
Day 4 ,
Up early after a long nite spannering , served crossoints with jam and lots of coffee by the support crew and fuelled up ready for the 2nd days riding wich would take us through some of the best scenery in Scottland , - Glen Coe;
Up early after a long nite spannering , served crossoints with jam and lots of coffee by the support crew and fuelled up ready for the 2nd days riding wich would take us through some of the best scenery in Scottland , - Glen Coe;
Then finishing up back down at John's house were we had a sit down meal in his 'village hall' !
To be honest after two very wet cold days riding through the highlands the thought of John's house and clean shower really kept me going
But not before more spannering in his garage;
Welding the old down pipe to later exhaust baffle ;
But not before more spannering in his garage;
Welding the old down pipe to later exhaust baffle ;
And a visit from the easter bunny
This was also the stage where Andy's chop started playing up , it had a dirty big carb and fuel tank full of crap , it never really recovered , luckily he had a spare
Day 5 ,
Long days riding today total miles = 170 finishing up in lake district;
Fairly unevent full day just pushing on feeling a bit knackered and wet knowing we had some serious miles to put in and kept getting lost aswell , but it all made sense when we hit the lakes and took on Kirkstone Pass
Long days riding today total miles = 170 finishing up in lake district;
Fairly unevent full day just pushing on feeling a bit knackered and wet knowing we had some serious miles to put in and kept getting lost aswell , but it all made sense when we hit the lakes and took on Kirkstone Pass
First gear and down to 6 mph , the 2 lac bikes had some issues and Brum on the red one had to resort to pushing with his feet ;
We made it to Ambleside after dropping down a 1;20 in the dark and it was pissing it down ! the bike went in the tent and we got some food and some sleep feeling we had over come the most challenging day.
Camp site;
We were woken up at 2am with the tent in our face , it was blowing a gale and the pegs had come out plus we had put it up shit as too tired ! a bit of rallying around from a few others in the same sitaution had it sorted , but didn't get much sleep that night.
Day 6 ,
Spent getting lost and confused riding through some city centres and nearly on to a motorway at one stage , avoided by bumping bikes down the grass verge and riding down the cycle paths and back up to the correct junction , we ended up just out side of Worksop at a rugby club and had very nice sit down carvery and doubble servings of chocolate cake after , plus beer.
Rugby club;
Spent getting lost and confused riding through some city centres and nearly on to a motorway at one stage , avoided by bumping bikes down the grass verge and riding down the cycle paths and back up to the correct junction , we ended up just out side of Worksop at a rugby club and had very nice sit down carvery and doubble servings of chocolate cake after , plus beer.
Rugby club;
After food was spannering , Claire's Simson had a sticky throttle cable, Steave aka Mr Orange 's had killed a 2nd clutch (probaly not the best idae using 2nd hand plates the first time !) and I dropped my oil and casually did a service whilst being smug that my ratty bike was absouloutly fine
The army truck that came to pack up the tents next day ;
Andy's spare lac bike along side my freshly serviced bike;
Had a fairly early night as we planned to be away early to get to Nottingham hospital early for a press shoot and be shown the foundations of teenage cancer ward plus have a chat with Brad's mum.
We still had the 30 miles mentioned earlier to ride to Stihians show ground , with plan being to meet up just out side and role in together for the big welcome;
Even Andy managed to get the chop running (although the clutch was getting a little grabby );
Even Andy managed to get the chop running (although the clutch was getting a little grabby );
Adey one of the van drivers / support crew rode in on the back of my bike once we had found him some appropriate head wear
Few shots looking back;
And of course some Champange
Anyway back to the story ,
Day 7;
Quick ride through Nottingham to meet at pub opposite hospital so we could all ride in together;
Day 7;
Quick ride through Nottingham to meet at pub opposite hospital so we could all ride in together;
Press article of us riding in to hospital
http://www.thisisnottingham.co.uk/Colwi ... story.html
Bikes lined up at hospital, next to foundations for Teenage Cancer Ward;
http://www.thisisnottingham.co.uk/Colwi ... story.html
Bikes lined up at hospital, next to foundations for Teenage Cancer Ward;
Brad's mum letting us know we had smashed our 10 k target ,
the riders alone raised 23 k I don't think there was a dry eye at this point, but it hit home what this whole thing was for and put the last few days into perspective.
___________________________________________________________________________
A small side note as this guy needs his own little section ;
Mad Bob ,
Remember that old Raleigh I mentioned earlier , ridden by Bob who had earned the above title at the fist campsite after he pulled out what can only be described as a massive fan , strapped it to his back along with an open parachute and took off narrowly missing some power cables !!
Mad Bob's map;
___________________________________________________________________________
A small side note as this guy needs his own little section ;
Mad Bob ,
Remember that old Raleigh I mentioned earlier , ridden by Bob who had earned the above title at the fist campsite after he pulled out what can only be described as a massive fan , strapped it to his back along with an open parachute and took off narrowly missing some power cables !!
Mad Bob's map;
His mouth throttle ( cable snapped so he tied it in a loop wrapped some duck tape round it and kept in his mouth )
More on Bob later.
____________________________________________________________________________
That night we ended up at the Tunnel House in near Cirencester , after riding down the Fosse way;
____________________________________________________________________________
That night we ended up at the Tunnel House in near Cirencester , after riding down the Fosse way;
Jules having a few issues;
Had another sit down meal in pub few beers and my first shower since John's house
Day 8,
We ended up leaving at about 10am as Andy had decided to try and swap the carb from the yellow lac bike onto his chop, we didn't have time to get it right and had to leave so that was him out.
Few riding shots;
We ended up leaving at about 10am as Andy had decided to try and swap the carb from the yellow lac bike onto his chop, we didn't have time to get it right and had to leave so that was him out.
Few riding shots;
Was looking forward to today as we planned to pass through Bath town centre and stop for a few snaps , very interesting town I would love to come back and explore properly but we had to push on;
Next stop was Glastonbury we made a detour as a few of the group had never visited and it seemed a shame to ride past so we wheeled the bikes in to town centre for a few photos;
It was getting a bit late so we decided to push on to Dartmoor but not before a picture of Burrow's mump;
Our stop that night was the fox and hounds pub wich had camping out back.
Had a few beers and went to bed feeling a bit sad knowing it was last days riding.
Had a few beers and went to bed feeling a bit sad knowing it was last days riding.
Day 9,
So last day riding, Adey had had issues with his rear brake locking up so he stripped and sorted that (I 'found' the sign at a petrol station) ,
So last day riding, Adey had had issues with his rear brake locking up so he stripped and sorted that (I 'found' the sign at a petrol station) ,
Whilst we planned a little route deviation
I know Cornwall well as my mum lives in Wadebridge, plus last year when we brought Claire's Simson I rode the first part of todays route on that , the offical route was a303 , decided to do it this way so the guys could see some of Dartmoor and have a photo at the 'welcome to Cornwall' sign
We were told there would be no one waiting at lands End to welcome us in , and to arrive at a sensible time take our photos etc and then meet at a premier inn near Stithians show ground to then ride in a group into the classic vw show / festival planned at the end,
And a few photos of the group and bikes ;
Me and Claire;
Me and Claire;
The c50 group , all but one (Andy) made it
Bikes and riders / support;
Group shot at the sign;
My miles ;
Claires miles;
Mad Bob part 2;
He rolls into Lands End , drops the bike ;
He rolls into Lands End , drops the bike ;
Shouts for beer then wheels it down to the sign;
After the photo ;
He thought it was going into the sea, when we told him we still had 30 miles to go to the campsite he climbed down , pedaled it got it started checked wheel alingment;
And with a little help from Jurgen on the monkey bike (only up hills ) he made it to the show , note how he is sitting due to due exremly bent bars !
The bike ended up in the charity auction and went for £600
_______________________________________________________________________________
Once all the lands end stuff was done it was on to Stithians for some serious partying
Submitted by Rob Watson.
_______________________________________________________________________________
Once all the lands end stuff was done it was on to Stithians for some serious partying
Submitted by Rob Watson.
Well, I guess I can call myself a TT veteran. And while I’m not in the same league as some, (you know who you are Jim S.), I have been fortunate enough to visit the Island for the TT, on 25 occasions since 1987. I’m not really sure now why it took me so long to go, but I can say, that once I did, I was hooked.
1987 was a memorable year, not only because of the hurricane in October, but mainly because it was my first visit to the most wonderful of motorcycling venues. I had been a keen supporter of short circuit racing for 10 years prior, but my TT experiences were to put all of that in the shade.
In February 87, I had sold my 900R to a pal, and ordered a brand spanking GSXR11 slabbie, in red and black. I couldn’t wait to take delivery of my new super bike, and ride it on the hallowed ground of the Island. I must say, I was starting to panic very slightly, when, come May, I still hadn’t had the call from Gedge motorcycles in Hastings. I was even pondering the hire of a machine for the trip until the call finally came just 2 days prior to departure. I scurried to Hastings and collected the beauty, I was so excited that the fact I had a running in schedule to follow didn’t matter at all. They say you learn from experience, and we didn’t have any...so that’s probably why we booked a 1.30 am. crossing from Heysham, when we could have booked 2 pm. from Liverpool, but I guess it’s all part of the learning curve. The 360 mile ride to Lancashire at running in speeds, could not have been wetter, it was a positive deluge the whole way. In those days, the port was far less civilised than it is now. There was no terminal building at all, it was literally just a pier with a hut on it. No shelter from the horizontal rain whatsoever. On the bright side, there was a pub very close, in fact it’s still there, though the ships don’t dock so close to it these days. It wasn’t quite closing time, so we headed in, not to drink, but to shelter. The place was rammed with soggy bikers all doing the same. To be honest it didn’t help a lot, we were in there such a short time, we didn’t even begin to dry out, and coming out at closing time, the weather just seemed even worse. Our crossing was at 1.30, so we had at least an hour and a half to wait, huddled in the rain hoping it would all be worth it. Anticipating an hour for loading, we couldn’t work out why there was no boat moored at the pier by 1 o’clock. I went to the hut, where the fat controller was drinking a mug of tea and reading the paper in the warm. When I asked where the ferry was, he pointed out to sea, and said, “see those red lights off shore, that’s it. Can’t dock due to the rough sea”. Brilliant !
To be honest we couldn’t get any wetter, but some sleep would have been good. In fact a couple of the boys had nodded off, helmeted, in full kit, sat in the pouring rain. Eventually, at around 3, it docked, and the ramp was lowered. We were among the first on, and once the bikes were lashed down, we found comfy chairs in the lounge. We sat watching the bikes coming up the gang plank for a while, but by about 4 we were all snoring. I had slept soundly for a good while, when a massive crash woke me, and the others. We looked out of the window to where the jetty full of bikes had been, but all we could see was wall. Fantastic ! It’s 8 am. And we have slept through the entire crossing. This wall is the pier at Douglas harbour !
Sadly not...it was 8, but we hadn’t moved. The tide had simply gone out, and the ferry moved down the wall. The noise was the raising of the gang plank for departure. We were aboard the Lady of Man, a floating museum built when men were men, and stabilisers hadn’t been thought of.
1987 was a memorable year, not only because of the hurricane in October, but mainly because it was my first visit to the most wonderful of motorcycling venues. I had been a keen supporter of short circuit racing for 10 years prior, but my TT experiences were to put all of that in the shade.
In February 87, I had sold my 900R to a pal, and ordered a brand spanking GSXR11 slabbie, in red and black. I couldn’t wait to take delivery of my new super bike, and ride it on the hallowed ground of the Island. I must say, I was starting to panic very slightly, when, come May, I still hadn’t had the call from Gedge motorcycles in Hastings. I was even pondering the hire of a machine for the trip until the call finally came just 2 days prior to departure. I scurried to Hastings and collected the beauty, I was so excited that the fact I had a running in schedule to follow didn’t matter at all. They say you learn from experience, and we didn’t have any...so that’s probably why we booked a 1.30 am. crossing from Heysham, when we could have booked 2 pm. from Liverpool, but I guess it’s all part of the learning curve. The 360 mile ride to Lancashire at running in speeds, could not have been wetter, it was a positive deluge the whole way. In those days, the port was far less civilised than it is now. There was no terminal building at all, it was literally just a pier with a hut on it. No shelter from the horizontal rain whatsoever. On the bright side, there was a pub very close, in fact it’s still there, though the ships don’t dock so close to it these days. It wasn’t quite closing time, so we headed in, not to drink, but to shelter. The place was rammed with soggy bikers all doing the same. To be honest it didn’t help a lot, we were in there such a short time, we didn’t even begin to dry out, and coming out at closing time, the weather just seemed even worse. Our crossing was at 1.30, so we had at least an hour and a half to wait, huddled in the rain hoping it would all be worth it. Anticipating an hour for loading, we couldn’t work out why there was no boat moored at the pier by 1 o’clock. I went to the hut, where the fat controller was drinking a mug of tea and reading the paper in the warm. When I asked where the ferry was, he pointed out to sea, and said, “see those red lights off shore, that’s it. Can’t dock due to the rough sea”. Brilliant !
To be honest we couldn’t get any wetter, but some sleep would have been good. In fact a couple of the boys had nodded off, helmeted, in full kit, sat in the pouring rain. Eventually, at around 3, it docked, and the ramp was lowered. We were among the first on, and once the bikes were lashed down, we found comfy chairs in the lounge. We sat watching the bikes coming up the gang plank for a while, but by about 4 we were all snoring. I had slept soundly for a good while, when a massive crash woke me, and the others. We looked out of the window to where the jetty full of bikes had been, but all we could see was wall. Fantastic ! It’s 8 am. And we have slept through the entire crossing. This wall is the pier at Douglas harbour !
Sadly not...it was 8, but we hadn’t moved. The tide had simply gone out, and the ferry moved down the wall. The noise was the raising of the gang plank for departure. We were aboard the Lady of Man, a floating museum built when men were men, and stabilisers hadn’t been thought of.
It was rough, very rough, and we hadn’t yet left the lea of the land for the open sea. The lounge was full with wall to wall vomiting, and even some crew members were spewing. Crash hats were bouncing around the floor, and the atmosphere was nasty. All of our boys were looking grey, even my salty old sea dog mate Guy, who was a deep sea tugman, was off colour. Another, Jem, had retired to the bathroom some time earlier. I couldn’t stay where I was any longer, or I would definitely be cardinal chunder, so the plan was, to take a pee, and then get up top in the fresh air. I made it to the lav, not easy in such rough seas, and opened the door. There were at least two heads in each of the sinks, and all of the cubicles and urinals were occupied by vomiters. A face looked up at me from one of the sinks, chunder dripping from chin and nose, it was Jem, at the sink he was to spend the entire crossing at. Poor sod. While I pondered, a small Tsunami wave of fluids various, lapped up to the bulkhead step, and splashed on my leg. I no longer wanted to pee, and made my way to the deck. A puking sailor I passed said, “we wouldn’t have sailed if we knew it was this bad”........When I got up top, there wasn’t a single gap anywhere at the railings, and sheet vomit was splattering everywhere in the gale. I quickly tucked myself into a nook beside a life boat, where I was pretty sheltered from the mayhem. It felt better being in the fresh air, even if the sea spray was rewetting me to the skin. I had been hiding a couple of hours, when a bloke and his girlfriend asked if they could squeeze in with me. They didn’t look ill, so I agreed. “Have you heard what’s happened? All the bikes have fallen over in the hold !” the fella announced....
Oh blinding...champion...my two day old bike is going to be buried under some lump of iron, getting ground away, and I can do nothing !
As luck would have it, I had had the foresight to tie the prop stand to the front wheel, and my bike was still upright when we docked.
Crossing from hell over........
A short ride to our digs at Hutchinson Square, Douglas, and then off to catch the Formula 1 race, which had already started. We could hear the engines at full tilt as we hurried across Nobles park. We joined the circuit just after the start/finish, about 50 yards from Saint Ninians cross roads, at the top of Bray Hill. We were all still feeling very queasy, to say the least, and looking over the wall to see Dunlop, Johnson and Nation pass at that precise moment, just feet away, at around 170 mph, did nothing to help.
Most of us had stinking colds all week, but that was it.....we would all be back. In those days, things were much more lenient, Douglas Prom evenings were an unofficial stunt fest, of wheelies, burnouts, stoppies and screaming engines. It was mayhem and smoke, and although there was a strong police presence, they largely turned a blind eye. It was bliss, and we loved it all.
What’s more, during the day, there was the most magical ribbon of tarmac to ride. Speed limits in the villages to be adhered to carefully, but most everywhere else, once you saw the national speed limit sign....there was no limit. Hard to believe now, but after the roundabouts at Quarter Bridge, the road was unlimited on the straight to Braddan. (It’s now a 30 mph zone). As soon as we got to that point, it was always full bore to Braddan every time, listening to the pipes resonate off the walls at 130 mph. Great !
Oh blinding...champion...my two day old bike is going to be buried under some lump of iron, getting ground away, and I can do nothing !
As luck would have it, I had had the foresight to tie the prop stand to the front wheel, and my bike was still upright when we docked.
Crossing from hell over........
A short ride to our digs at Hutchinson Square, Douglas, and then off to catch the Formula 1 race, which had already started. We could hear the engines at full tilt as we hurried across Nobles park. We joined the circuit just after the start/finish, about 50 yards from Saint Ninians cross roads, at the top of Bray Hill. We were all still feeling very queasy, to say the least, and looking over the wall to see Dunlop, Johnson and Nation pass at that precise moment, just feet away, at around 170 mph, did nothing to help.
Most of us had stinking colds all week, but that was it.....we would all be back. In those days, things were much more lenient, Douglas Prom evenings were an unofficial stunt fest, of wheelies, burnouts, stoppies and screaming engines. It was mayhem and smoke, and although there was a strong police presence, they largely turned a blind eye. It was bliss, and we loved it all.
What’s more, during the day, there was the most magical ribbon of tarmac to ride. Speed limits in the villages to be adhered to carefully, but most everywhere else, once you saw the national speed limit sign....there was no limit. Hard to believe now, but after the roundabouts at Quarter Bridge, the road was unlimited on the straight to Braddan. (It’s now a 30 mph zone). As soon as we got to that point, it was always full bore to Braddan every time, listening to the pipes resonate off the walls at 130 mph. Great !
Weather that week was generally not good, but watching our heroes, Dunlop, Marshall, Mellor, Johnson, Nation etc etc was beyond awesome.
TT fever had captured everyone in the group, and we booked for TT 88 right away, all except poor old Jem, who vowed never to set foot on the Irish sea ever again.....and he hasn’t.
For around 10 years, we stayed in a variety of b & b’s on or around Douglas front. We never wanted to be far from the evening action in those days, so digs near the prom were essential. However, over the years, the authorities have gradually clamped down on the sea front mayhem, and now it just doesn’t happen at all. There were six or more of us going to the TT every year, so it made financial sense to look for self catering, where we could all spend the week together, and our first such stay was in 1997, at a holiday estate in a beautiful little cove just a couple of miles north of Douglas, called Groudle Glen.
TT fever had captured everyone in the group, and we booked for TT 88 right away, all except poor old Jem, who vowed never to set foot on the Irish sea ever again.....and he hasn’t.
For around 10 years, we stayed in a variety of b & b’s on or around Douglas front. We never wanted to be far from the evening action in those days, so digs near the prom were essential. However, over the years, the authorities have gradually clamped down on the sea front mayhem, and now it just doesn’t happen at all. There were six or more of us going to the TT every year, so it made financial sense to look for self catering, where we could all spend the week together, and our first such stay was in 1997, at a holiday estate in a beautiful little cove just a couple of miles north of Douglas, called Groudle Glen.
Groudle is a lovely place, with 30 or 40 houses terraced on a hill side overlooking the sea. The morning after we arrived, we were outside with the bikes, adjusting chains, cleaning and fettling, when a vey tatty old Seat Ibiza rolled up. The exhaust on the car was very badly broken and it sounded like a tractor. It stopped right next to us and the driver got out. We could not believe our eyes...it was none other than Joey Dunlop ! We exchanged banter with Joey about the Yoshi pipe on the car, and he had a laugh with us. It turned out, that Joey was our next door neighbour, and he and his family stayed regularly at Groudle. In fact we were neighbours every year until he tragically died in Estonia. I feel very privileged to have chatted with the greatest TT rider ever, many times during those years.
Most of the houses at Groudle were sold as private residences around 2001, and we lost our regular digs there. It fell to me to try and find alternative accommodation, and after a lot of time on the phone, I came up with the house we still rent each year, at Glen Dhoo. It’s perfect, ideally situated.
The TT has changed over the years quite a lot. The seafront mayhem has entirely gone, and riding the circuit has been totally sanitised. Speed limits are now pretty much everywhere. For years, each visit has seen a little more of the unlimited sections being taken away. Until there is barely any unlimited road apart from the Mountain. At least the Mountain section is, and has been one way only for a few years now, but even that has been eroded. The unlimited sign is slowly moving further up the Mountain, and it now ends before Keppel, when it used to be at the Creg. I understand the need to reduce accidents, but it’s a dreadful shame to have lost so much unlimited road. I guess we are very lucky to have enjoyed the halcyon days.
One of the best years for me was 2010. This was the year that Suzuki celebrated 50 years of racing at the Island, and coincidentally was the year that Tim Hart and his brother Jon made their first pilgrimage. They brought their 500 Suzuki 2 stroke cafe racers with them, and along with my pal P.A, the four of us clattered around the Island causing a massive stir . We were literally mobbed wherever we went, by people wanting to take pictures of our bikes. The pinnacle was when we went to the opening of the Suzuki exhibition at the Manx museum, which was attended by all manner of Suzuki big wigs. Again we were mobbed, and were lucky enough to meet TT winning Crooks rider, Frank Whiteway, among others. None of us are poseurs, but we all enjoyed the attention and admiration we got that week.
The TT has changed over the years quite a lot. The seafront mayhem has entirely gone, and riding the circuit has been totally sanitised. Speed limits are now pretty much everywhere. For years, each visit has seen a little more of the unlimited sections being taken away. Until there is barely any unlimited road apart from the Mountain. At least the Mountain section is, and has been one way only for a few years now, but even that has been eroded. The unlimited sign is slowly moving further up the Mountain, and it now ends before Keppel, when it used to be at the Creg. I understand the need to reduce accidents, but it’s a dreadful shame to have lost so much unlimited road. I guess we are very lucky to have enjoyed the halcyon days.
One of the best years for me was 2010. This was the year that Suzuki celebrated 50 years of racing at the Island, and coincidentally was the year that Tim Hart and his brother Jon made their first pilgrimage. They brought their 500 Suzuki 2 stroke cafe racers with them, and along with my pal P.A, the four of us clattered around the Island causing a massive stir . We were literally mobbed wherever we went, by people wanting to take pictures of our bikes. The pinnacle was when we went to the opening of the Suzuki exhibition at the Manx museum, which was attended by all manner of Suzuki big wigs. Again we were mobbed, and were lucky enough to meet TT winning Crooks rider, Frank Whiteway, among others. None of us are poseurs, but we all enjoyed the attention and admiration we got that week.
While some of the fun has been eroded, the TT experience has generally improved. The event organisation is pretty slick, and over the years we have learned our way around well, and accumulated a good list of excellent spots to view from. There have been many memorable moments over the years, some happy, and some tragically sad.....and aside from seeing Joey dominate the event, we have seen the Hislop/Fogarty era, Phil McCallen, Dave Jeffries, the rise of John Mac, and Hutchy’s historic year. In recent years we have enjoyed the dominance of another of the Dunlop clan.
In all the years of watching the racing, it has never failed to impress me, and having ridden the circuit myself dozens and dozens of times, I still cannot comprehend how a lap can be completed in just over 17 minutes. The spectacle of sitting on the road side, just a few feet away from bikes travelling at massive speeds is just awesome, and has to be experienced to be appreciated.
If you have never been to the Island, put it on your bucket list, and do it. You will not be disappointed.
Paul Courbot.
In all the years of watching the racing, it has never failed to impress me, and having ridden the circuit myself dozens and dozens of times, I still cannot comprehend how a lap can be completed in just over 17 minutes. The spectacle of sitting on the road side, just a few feet away from bikes travelling at massive speeds is just awesome, and has to be experienced to be appreciated.
If you have never been to the Island, put it on your bucket list, and do it. You will not be disappointed.
Paul Courbot.
