I didn't do it!!!!!

For the eagle eyes, the last posting is actually the very first posting made. Modern technology got the better of me.

Anyway, I mentioned a trip up to Scotchland previously. I had the loan of a BMW K100 from a mate on a classic bike forum while I was home visiting the family. The idea was to take in a few places of interest and the main on was Oop Norf to Scotchland.

I set off around 5am on a Friday morn, steadly at around 70mph due to not being familiar with the bike, the route and the traffic, I was in no particular hurry as Scotchland was gonna be there when I got there.

Once past the built up areas and actually getting to see some countryside was nice as it had been some years since I had enjoyed English scenery. Stopping at services gave me a chance to stretch and loosen up old arthritic bones and joints.

Getting up into Cumbria, I could see the countryside starting to change a little, looking a little more desolate, and bleak. Just south of the border I stopped and talked to some blokes and I mentioned that I was going to Glasgow and then taking the M8 across to Edinburgh.

They told me that I'd have a better journey by taking the A72 at Carlisle and following it up to Edinburgh. Possibly a little longer, but more worthwhile. So that's what I did.

I stopped in a layby for a quick snack once I got onto the A72. It was also a good time to whip out the camera and take a picture or two of the road signs welcoming all to Scotland and also the one for England.

Going through small towns was an experience that filled me with a greater sense of ethnic pride. It seemed that just about every doorway had a Saltire flag flying from it.


After getting checked into my digs in Edinburgh and unpacking a few things, I used the cell phone to call Rick Parkington who I've previously mentioned. A shortwhile later he returned the call. He had been in his shed working on a project Triton for Classic Bike magazine and didn't hear the phone.

A few minutes later Rick and his famous pooch Finbar came by to collect me from my digs. Turns out that he and his wife lived just around the corner which made it easy. So off to his house we went. We had a chat and then the three of us went off to the pub for a few pints and something to eat.
Next day I made a trip into town to the Harley dealer to get a couple of things. Rick gave me directions and some how I got myself slightly lost so started taking streets at random eventually finding the place.

Back to the B&B and then off to see the Castle which I enjoyed but didn't have time to explore like I wanted due to meeting up for dinner later on which we did at Viva Mexico on Cockburn Street. They served surprisingly good Mexican food there. A few more aes were consumed at a pub near Viva Mexico.

Next day, Sunday, I was due to head back down South. But first I followed Rick and his mate Peter Barclay to Peebles for an autojumble at the Drill Hall. Rick took his 1929 (I think) Sunbeam Model 9 (90?) and Peter was on his 52 Ariel Red Hunter.

A putter around taking a few pictures and visiting the vendors, it was time to leave. Rick gave me directions to Biggar and then on to the A1(M) and homeward. Except there was a slight detour in Biggar and somehow got on the wrong road. But a few miles on I got back on the right one and finally on the way.

A few hours of riding, getting caught in the rain between Preston and Penrith, heavy traffic congestion in a few places and finally I was back home.

The point to this rambling is that you can't just rely on books to learn. You have to get out and talk with other people about their experiences, get their opinions, advice and any ideas they may have. And also to see places you've never been to or have always wanted to go to. I did and I'm glad I did. Now get yerself out and do it for yerself.