Epic Whine - Snow on a motorbike


This was written in MArch 2004. Naturally, I couldn't put it on my blog then, as I didn't have one. I have one now, so it's going on!

Besides that, nothing much has happened today. A lorry did blatently pull out on me, but I saw it coming, so I had already slowed down, and it wasn't really close. Although I did give him the priviledge of hearing my horn, to which he just waved at me.

Yesterday I went to see someone. In North Devon. Strangely enough, I had to go into Cornwall first to get there. This is the story of my eventful trip. You thought Frodo had a tough journey? Think again.

I had a good time yesterday, except for the journey, which physically knackered me, and almost killed me. Well, the last part was a bit of an exaggeration, but if I hadn't been careful, I could've been deaded. The quickest route to North Devon was via Launceston (hometown of something called Foss). The way there was fine, but on the way back, it snowed. A lot. It was fine until I got past Launceston, it was raining, but the roads were clear, and I made good speed following Jonathan's fast 'pace car'.

By the time I got to Launceston, I was soaked to the skin, freezing cold, riding back along winding, twisty roads, with a gale force wind, and very heavy snow. I'm not lying when I say it was like a blizzard. I couldn't see anything through my visor, cos the snow was sticking to it, and then when cars came the opposite direction the light refracted off the water on the visor, and I couldn't see anything at all. However, if I opened my visor, I couldn't keep my eyes open, cos snow is sharp, and 30mph snow piercing your eyeballs isn't pleasant. With my headlights on full beam, all I could see was snow coming towards me, but with them dipped, I could see no further than 10 metres in front of me, and couldn't see corners or hedges very well.

This was pretty bad, but at least the road was ok. This changed about 4 miles from Launceston. Somebody must have told everyone in Cornwall not to go to Plymouth, as I saw loads of people on their way back, I didn't see anyone travelling the same direction as me. Not one car. The snow was properly settling on the roads by now, and it was heavy enough for me to not be able to see any road markings. In fact, I was driving in the foot wide trenches made by car tyres, except there was no longer road visible throught the trenches, just different heights of slush. The slush was probably about an inch thick in the trenches, and as much as 3 or 4 inches in between the trenches.

All this combined made the journey slow. How I didn't fall off is beyond me. Imagine riding speedway, blindfolded, on a bike without studded tyres, through a waterfall, in alaska, for what seemed like an eternity. This is what my journey was like. I had a couple close calls where the back end of the bike was sliding round corners, and snaking on the straights. I barely left first gear all the way back from Launceston. It must have taken me over an hour to get back, as I couldn't do more than 30 for most of the way.

I almost stopped at one point, in the middle of nowhere, as I was beginning to think I wouldn't be able to go any further, and I considered calling somebody, anybody, but realised that that would've been pointless. I almost stopped at a random hotel I passed, as I was gonna stay the night there, but decided to press on. How I didn't fall off is beyond me - I really should have.

It took about an hour and a half to get back, and about the same again to warm up once I'd got home. My leather boots stilla aren't dry, and neither is my jacket. And I feel physically exhausted!

Oh, and I deserve a medal for not falling off.

However the evening was nice, apart from the journey. :D
- posted by Ryaninja @ 2:27 pm