At last, I have finally made it to Anglesey, a destination I have had on my hit list for far longer than I care to admit. It’s the rain, you understand, no matter how attractive a place may be, and make no
mistake it is an attractive area, the thought of riding into virtually permanent downpours dampens my ardour. Pun intended. It turned out to be a very brief visit to the island itself, no more than a U turn really. I crossed the Menai Strait via the George Stephenson designed Brittania Bridge and returned, pausing briefly to grab a photo on my phone, via the Menai Bridge created by ace engineer Thomas Telford. . Apparently, when constructed way back in 1862, it was one of the first modern suspension bridges to be built in the world. Sorry, I have a thing about bridges, particularly suspension bridges old and new, they are great feats of engineering and well worth a visit. Both pictures are courtesy of Wikipedia, my phone picture is dire but included for posterity – lol.
The weather proved challenging to say the least. Mist and fog with visibility varying between half a mile and 100 yards. Sunshine in Wales and zero degrees on the Cheshire Plain. There’s nowt better than variety I say, bring it on. My route out took me over the Pennines via Bakewell, Monyash, Crowdecote, Longnor and the A 54 to Congleton. Not the most straightforward route, the A6 to Buxton would have been much easier but no where near as much fun to ride despite the dodgy weather. From here I rode via Holmes Chapel onto the A54 heading for Chester to make up time on the faster roads. Whilst on this road I came across an unmarked Police Range Rover HSE in black parked at the roadside with nothing but sneaky strobe lights. Luckily he must have just finished doing business as I caught a glimpse of the strobes
before he turned them off. He followed me for a mile or so before switching the lights back on and disappearing down the road to another shout. Onto the A55 for a trouble free blast into Wales, apart from a diesel soaked roundabout that is, which might well have had me on the floor if traffic hadn’t prevented me joining unabated. From Pensarn the journey becomes a little less mundane and far more picturesque. The A55 hugs the coast here with the sea on one side and foothills of Snowdonia on the other. It is easy to become distracted when traversing an area of such natural beauty but concentration, as you know, is paramount on a bike.
Following my aforementioned brief encounter of Anglesey food was now the order of the day. As I was travelling alone, I wasn’t too concerned about finding a nice cafe for sustenance and social interaction so I opted for the lonely alternative!! A Burger King on the A5 – lol. This also doubled as a fuel top up point meaning I didn’t need to stop again before home. I headed to Bets-y-coed via the A5, what a great road, lots of corners, snow capped mountains for a backdrop plus the sun was shining. Perfect. There were loads of bikes too, all packing tents and luggage so I guessed that the Dragon Rally must be on this weekend. A check on the web when back at home confirmed this. From what I saw they were in for a good turnout. Hard case rally goers are not deterred by weather. They also seem to ride every type of bike imaginable from the ubiquitous GS down
to old battered trail bikes. Several sidecar outfits passed me too, a rare sight these days.
The return route I had planned via Mapsource meant I zig zagged a little but in doing so I missed all major towns. Unfortunately, the A5 was closed for repairs prior to Corwen meaning a 12 mile detour which quickly plunged me into thick fog as I descended into the valley. It cleared at Corwen but was to return on several occasions on the ride from here to Stoke on Trent. During fog free sections I could appreciate the fine views on offer, note to self, must ride this road later in the year. I went though some village with an unpronounceable name sporting a sign for the Horseshoe Pass, another note to self, must come back and ride that too.
Once I reached the Potteries all traces of fog disappeared meaning could “press on” down the A50 and A38. However, mist had returned by Ripley and persisted for the remainder of my journey home but visibility never dropped below half a mile so no problems. I arrived at Blindboy Towers bang on 5.30pm exactly 8 hours after I departed including two visits to the petrol pumps and lunch. With 340 miles added to this year tally too, I flopped onto the sofa a thoroughly chuffed but knackered old motorcyclist. Better get plenty of rest, tomorrow I have to clean the bike and boy is it a mess.
