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Stir crazy
I had been going nuts packing up my home to ship some of it to California and
some of it North and some to sell... There were priorities and,
since the whole weekend has been sunny, I decided I would collect another
Landmark.
Anyway, my route there was through some of the flattest countryside we have,
East Anglia: squished flat under huge glaciers millions of year ago. I took what
should have been a straightforward and fast route, but then mistook an exit and
ended up on the wrong road going South-East instead of North-East. I took the A14
instead of the A10, but I still maintain that the signposting was confusing. As a
result, I got to do a huge, sweeping turn off the wrong road, almost 360°
of a circle... sort of interesting! (It was hard not to go, "Wheeeeeeeee!")
I came off the first exit and guessed at where I was going. My primary concern
was not finding out where the heck I was, but finding petrol. Quickly! Ever since I
ran out of petrol on the A1, and my engine cut on me while I was travelling at
70 m.p.h. in the centre lane just after I passed an on-ramp, I have been rather cautious when it comes
to the bike's tiny tank (strange thing, paranoia).
I rode through some very quaint and pretty villages, but didn't enjoy them because the
last thing I wanted was to run out of petrol in the back of beyond. Finally, I asked
some guy where I could get petrol - as it turned out, within 2 miles. The road where I
wanted to be was also within 2 miles. I had done some kind of a big circle, at the
same time having no idea where I was, but never mind!
The windmill
After that it was easy going until I reached Denver, a small village some 70 miles from
my home. I saw a large group of bikers
there but they seemed to be clustered round the bike shop rather than the
Landmarks. I chose the windmill as my backdrop and took my pictures there in
front of the sign. I then went inside, where the very nice lady
guarding it told me all about its history and let me stomp around it as much as I
wanted, even though it was only ten minutes to closing time - she was a true
enthusiast. I went up the first two
floors but, after making a tour on the veranda outside, I felt that climbing in
full black leathers on a hot day was O.T.T. and came back down again.
Outside, the lady
was admiring of my bike. Turned out she had a 26 year old daughter who, now that
she was 26, wanted to do all the things she hadn't been allowed to when she was
a kid - like motorcycling and sky-diving... Sensible woman.
I rode round Denver
because it was pretty and then took the scenic route back to the main road.
Imagine a one-lane road where the single lane serves both directions of traffic. To
each side were banks of grass, sometimes high and sometimes flat. The route skirted
the river (one false move and I'd've been swimming) with ducks and boats and
swans. This went on for ten miles or so before I decided I was just overheating and
took a short cut. This meant also that the fishermen who were packing up for the day
got a second ogle at my shiny bike as I back-tracked.
I got home after five hours and 140 miles of riding, plus one
Landmark. Three more to go. Yet another good day - but this turned out to be my
last long ride with Katie. It was a good one to remember her by.
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This document created 24 Oct 1997
Last update 07 Nov 2003
© 1997-2007 White Raven
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