We were now starting our third day of riding from London to Santander.
We had just spent the night in Montlucon, arriving yesterday from leMans.
As I looked out of our rain streaked hotel window early that morning all I could see was an angry looking dark sky. Indeed, there was an official orange weather warning in force for our part of France, with local flooding predicted. This was to be our first venture into mountains today, and it looked as though it was going to be uncomfortable.
We were a group of eight, riding various hardware including a BMW R1150, a Bimota SP6, a BMW 1200GS, Kawasaki ZX9, Honda Hornet 600 (which even restricted to 33bhp had been happily keeping up at speeds of 90mph), a couple of Honda Deauvilles and me on my Triumph Rocket 111 Classic. I was a little apprehensive as I had only done 335 dry miles on this behemoth before leaving England!
So far, France had been an absolute blast, the Rocket proving very stable, (at over 800 lbs it should be), fast and fine round the bends we encountered off the main routes in the French country side. But today looked like it was going to be wet.
Sure enough, after about half an hour's riding from Montlucon the heavens opened. Now I haven't ridden much in the rain in recent years and had forgotten what it's like to have your visor covered in rain drops. The small summer screen I had had fitted to the bike was of little use in deflecting the rain, but we stuck at it, maintaining a steady slightly above the speed limit for an hour or so before stopping for a coffee.
Although I thought my clothing was waterproof, apart from the new pair of trousers I was wearing I soon discovered that was in fact not the case. It didnt take long until I felt water virtually flowing into my boots, then my shoulders went cold. Getting off the bike at a roadside cafe I felt like a drowned rat!
The rain had been coming down in stair rods but the Rocket had again excelled. Even when overtaking large articulated trucks there was little movement and I even allowed myself to watch the tyres of the trucks displace the water, something I've never done on a bike as every other machine I have owned has been subject to buffering when overtaking this type of vehicle. The engine never missed a beat, and the brakes were fine.
Despite the fact I could hardly see, I started to enjoy myself. I had had fog lights and heated grips fitted and was glad I had. With the grips on at their lowest setting my hands were wet but comfortable, even as we went over 1500 metres altitude.
We stopped for lunch in a very pretty village just outside the mountains of the Massif and sheltered from the thunderstorm that now overtook us.
As we climbed back onto our bikes after eating, the sun decided to make an appearance and the temperature rose back into the high twenties. My own temperature was about to get higher too, once I got into the mountain roads and the sharp bends1
We had just spent the night in Montlucon, arriving yesterday from leMans.
As I looked out of our rain streaked hotel window early that morning all I could see was an angry looking dark sky. Indeed, there was an official orange weather warning in force for our part of France, with local flooding predicted. This was to be our first venture into mountains today, and it looked as though it was going to be uncomfortable.
We were a group of eight, riding various hardware including a BMW R1150, a Bimota SP6, a BMW 1200GS, Kawasaki ZX9, Honda Hornet 600 (which even restricted to 33bhp had been happily keeping up at speeds of 90mph), a couple of Honda Deauvilles and me on my Triumph Rocket 111 Classic. I was a little apprehensive as I had only done 335 dry miles on this behemoth before leaving England!
So far, France had been an absolute blast, the Rocket proving very stable, (at over 800 lbs it should be), fast and fine round the bends we encountered off the main routes in the French country side. But today looked like it was going to be wet.
Sure enough, after about half an hour's riding from Montlucon the heavens opened. Now I haven't ridden much in the rain in recent years and had forgotten what it's like to have your visor covered in rain drops. The small summer screen I had had fitted to the bike was of little use in deflecting the rain, but we stuck at it, maintaining a steady slightly above the speed limit for an hour or so before stopping for a coffee.
Although I thought my clothing was waterproof, apart from the new pair of trousers I was wearing I soon discovered that was in fact not the case. It didnt take long until I felt water virtually flowing into my boots, then my shoulders went cold. Getting off the bike at a roadside cafe I felt like a drowned rat!
The rain had been coming down in stair rods but the Rocket had again excelled. Even when overtaking large articulated trucks there was little movement and I even allowed myself to watch the tyres of the trucks displace the water, something I've never done on a bike as every other machine I have owned has been subject to buffering when overtaking this type of vehicle. The engine never missed a beat, and the brakes were fine.
Despite the fact I could hardly see, I started to enjoy myself. I had had fog lights and heated grips fitted and was glad I had. With the grips on at their lowest setting my hands were wet but comfortable, even as we went over 1500 metres altitude.
We stopped for lunch in a very pretty village just outside the mountains of the Massif and sheltered from the thunderstorm that now overtook us.
As we climbed back onto our bikes after eating, the sun decided to make an appearance and the temperature rose back into the high twenties. My own temperature was about to get higher too, once I got into the mountain roads and the sharp bends1
About the Author:
Zac loves maintaining his bikes and has a couple of Harley Davidsons which he protects with genuine Harley Davidson motorcycle covers. This covers are made from top class fabrics and help protect the bikes when stored. Check the range out at www.harelydavidsonmotorcyclecovers.net.
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