Hottest day of the year, not a cloud in sight, sunburn city. I was telling people all last week what a bad idea it was to start rolling immediately after finishing work and also organising a 5 month bike trip and country change at the same time. All stresses out the way we eventually hit the road after saying goodbye to parents, brothers and friends who came to wave us off, Doug even managed to get an impromptu slow clap going, cheers guys.
Lewy was riding with us for the first 15 or so miles as we told him he should just come along for the trip and not turn home. We had battled up Carlton Bank, a mean lump of earth snaking up into the moors, I’ve ridden it without problems unloaded in the past but with a bike loaded like a tank it was painful and killed us all.
Fittingly Lewy (nicknamed Chopper for his football style) left us at Chop Gate, 3 best friends split unevenly didn’t seem fair. We both wish Lewy could have been rolling with us too but he can come out to visit once we get to Oz.
After navigating the rest of the 50 mile ride past Malton we closed in on our campground for the evening. Unsurpisingly Hill Top Farm was at the summit of a nasty looking 14% grade climb. It was an odd joint which seemed to have eastern european workers living onsite. £5 for camping, that didn’t include shower facilities, basin wash and some wet wipes sufficed. Nice.
The next day riding toward the ferry terminal our good friend Chia had a day off and arranged to ride out and meet us on the edge of the town where he works as a dental surgeon. He guided us into Beverley, an historic and well pointed place. Me and Eal were both suprised we hadn’t heard or visited before. It was like York before the stag parties got involved, although I do enjoy a good ‘Leo Sayer’ in York, it just seemed slightly more classy and quaint. We went for lunch which Chia insisted on paying for (thanks Chee) and then he rolled with us half way towards Hull to catch the Ferry. Hull must be commended for its bike lanes, for 8 miles right up to the Terminal we had designated paths and great directions.
We were assigned to the motorcycle area for boarding and got quite abit of interest from our motorised brethren. After comparing spokes, chains and weight distribution we had to join them riding onto the ferry which was almost ceremonial as we rolled aboard in tandem. Once aboard in the parking area with engines still revving Eal said, “Its boiling in here”, I joked “yeah its ferry hot”, after repeating the joke a few times he still wasn’t following so I gave up. Hit the room, took a shower and watched us drift off to sea as night rolled in with a few pints.
England has been a good break-in ride but nothing is new to us and there are no surprises, cannot wait to get to Belgium, this feels like the real beginning.