NC500 on a 125cc with L-plates… What’s your Excuse?
Join me on my first moto tour. For all those who are still at the beginning of your riding days, a 125cc or L-plates shouldn’t be the reason for holding you back from adventures. If anything, use it as an introduction to bigger and better motorcycle tours to come. Hope you enjoy the read and get inspired to hit the road. As featured on VC London.
A crazy idea
Shortly after I’d gotten the courage to start riding and somehow convinced one of my girlfriends, Dasha, to follow suit. We had come to the wild decision that if we were out of lockdown by June 2021, we would attempt the NC500. We both needed a holiday, a break from the life of lockdown and getting lost in the highlands sounded like the perfect escape. From there we agreed on a route, and I started planning. See here for our full itinerary. I live in Bristol and Dasha lives in Birmingham. So, we would officially start off on our tour from the Midlands. We were both on L-Plates so that meant no motorways. Our first planned stop in Scotland was Loch Lomond. The route we decided to get to Loch Lomond included 430 miles over two days. Aiming for about 200 miles per day - not a small feat for beginner bikers on 125cc’s. From there we would make our way to Isle of Skye and then progress to the official start of the NC500, completing the route clockwise. Coming back down through Edinburgh and eventually making our way home. A route that we planned to achieve over two weeks from the middle to the end of June. For majority of the journey, we planned to wild camp, to allow us to really get lost in the surreal landscape of the highlands. The plan was set, we had researched on what luggage to get, and how to pack the bikes. We had our approximate stops planned out, as well as our backup stops, just in case we needed a break. All that was left now was to wait for the time to come to start our journey. As the start of our adventure loomed, we both were wondering how crazy we were to attempt the NC500 just a few short months after beginning to ride… on 125cc let alone with L-Plates.
The Journey Begins
June 18th arrived. I’d made my way to Birmingham the night before. I stopped at the Mutt dealership to get it serviced and ensure it was good to make the long journey. The bikes were packed, tents, sleeping bags and all. It was time for us to set-off on our adventure. We began our ride from Birmingham in the early afternoon once Dasha had finished work. It was raining. A consistent downpour. Really not a pleasant way to start off on our journey but we sucked it up donned our waterproofs and set out. In less then an hour our boots were soaked, and our gear was heavy with rain. We got stuck in detour after detour, and then the summer Friday traffic. It took us over an hour just to get out the city. It was beyond miserable. We pulled over to switch out boots for our hiking boots. Just to have some dry feet. Though to be honest those eventually got soaked through as well, but we still pushed on.
We finally started making some progress. We pulled over a second time at a petrol station next to the A38 just short of Derby to take a break from the rain and the constant wiping of our visors to be able to see the road. We stood there. Under the cover of the petrol station and looked at each other. Did we make a mistake attempting this? Should we have waited till we were fully licensed, on bigger bikes with more experience riding? We both knew that if we had to endure two weeks of this type of weather that we were going to be miserable. Dasha pulled out some chocolate, we ate a few squares laughed at how crazy we were, and both agreed that we weren’t ready to give up. We hopped back on our bikes and continued in the pouring rain. Pushing to continue to make progress. We rode for a couple more hours before pulling into a Starbucks. We grabbed a few snacks and some hot chocolate. We laughed at how ridiculous we looked. Wringing out our clothes, gloves and gear. Watching the water just pour out. But at least we were still laughing. Most likely because we were over tired, cold and wet and had been pushed to our limits. We sat on the sofas figuring out where we were going to spend our first night. We were both ready to almost call it quits for the day and knew we weren’t going to make it to our original stop of Carleigh, just shy of the Scottish border. We decided to aim for north of Leeds. Just over an hour away. Slightly warmed up and with the rain finally starting to ease off we began the last bit of our journey for the day. Reaching our destination, a Premier Inn, the rain had finally stopped, and the sun had come out. We were riding through the countryside. Watching the sun set over the rolling hills as we made the way to our hotel. It was the perfect end to a miserable day. We knew we had made the right decision to not turn around. To brave the rain and continue. This by far was the hardest day of our journey. Being on a motorcycle means that you have no relief from the elements which can make it very dismal at times. After enduring the constant driving rain, we knew that if we could make it through this, we would be okay. We also learnt our first lesson. Invest in waterproof boots and waterproof socks.
The second day of our journey was off to a much better start. We had dried out overnight and the sun was shining. Having not made it as far as originally planned on our first day, only 135 miles in comparison to just over the 200 miles we intended, we aimed to make up the lost miles that day and get to Loch Lomond as originally planned. This meant a daunting 295 miles by the time we included a few detours. My phone had gotten wet in the rain on the first day and didn’t look like it was going to make it, resulting in us making a detour for a phone to get me through the trip. Though we did try and save it with a bag of rice though sadly it’s life had come to an end. But with the sun shining our excitement had been rekindled and we now could laugh at how miserable our first day on the road had been. It was a long day but completing the 295 miles, crossing the UK-Scotland border and arriving in Loch Lomond confirmed that we were more than capable of making this journey. We got to our campsite in Loch Lomond, sadly during high season you can’t wild camp is this national park, and headed to a pub to get some dinner. The next misty morning started with a chilly dip in the Loch and packing our tent away as quickly as possible because of the midges. Do NOT underestimate these guys. They are tiny and awful. At one point we looked like we were suffering from the chicken pox. I ended up spraying the inside of my helmet with midge spray to help keep them out. Riding with midges in your helmet is the most uncomfortable thing in the world.
From there on our adventure really kicked into gear. We rode from Loch Lomond to Ben Nevis through the Glen Coe Valley on the A82. Passing through the mountains. It was surreal to say the least. It’s still one of my favourite roads to date and a road I will always go back to if I get the chance. We rode laughing and in awe of the scenery. Having Cardo Bluetooth headsets meant we could chat about what were seeing along the way. Through the Glen Coe Valley both of us felt like we were on top of the world. Spurred by the face like we were attempting the most crazy journey of our lives. To me this moment will always be a core memory that I’ll cherish. It has pushed me to again and again to try and relive this feeling in different places around the world. Here is where I fell in love. Where I fell in love with two wheels and the freedom and exhilaration it brings you. To me this is where I found myself.
Our journey progressed from Ben Nevis. Taking our time to ride the coastline enjoying the views and the winding road before hopping on a ferry to the Isle of Skye. We raced the clock knowing that we were barely going to make the last ferry of the day having gotten caught up in the roads we were riding. As we pulled into the line for the ferry, we lined up behind about 10 other riders. All men and all with much bigger bikes than our little 125cc with L-Plates. Our eyes were peeled to the bikes that we were dreaming of purchasing once we have achieved our full licenses. Our ferry docked in the Isle of Skye. We had dinner and then settled into our tent for the night with the Bla Bheinn mountain looming over us. This is where I learned my second lesson. Make sure your parked bike is 100% stable. We had parked our bikes next to the tent. I’d precariously parked mine. It wasn’t as stable as it could have been. In the morning when I was packing up the bike it tipped over cracking the mirror. Luckily there was no detrimental damage to the bike, but I would not be making that same mistake again.
Our journey continued. Touring the Isle of Skye for another couple days and then heading back to the mainland to officially start the NC500. Our first day of the NC500 included the daunting Bealach na Bà pass. The Bealach na Bà is a curvy mountainous road located in the Applecross peninsula of the Highlands. This twisting, single-track mountain road is the third highest road in Scotland rising to 2,054ft above the sea level. Comparable to the great mountain passes in the Alps, you endure very tight hairpin bends which switch back and forth up the hillside, with gradients approaching 20%. With all that in mind, the day we attempted Bealach Na Ba visibility was minimal, barely being able to see a few feet ahead of us. Soon as we started our ride up, we were quickly swallowed up by the clouds and mist, putting our very limited riding skills to the test. It was very slow going and when we finally reached the top of the pass, we couldn’t see a thing. It was an experience to say the least.
Our journey now takes us to our third lesson and our first major setback. Making our way to Ullapool. Dasha riding in front, said she was starting to lose power. Eventually we pulled over. We were in the middle of nowhere along the A832 and her bike wouldn’t re-start. We tried bump starting the bike and checking to see if there was anything obviously wrong. Forgetting the most obvious, to check the oil. Eventually she admitted defeat and we called a tow truck. At this point, considering our location, we were very lucky we had cell phone service. In less than an hour a tow truck had arrived. The bike was loaded, and we backtracked to Locharron to meet the bike and figure out our next move. Dasha was advised to have the bike sent back home and to continue the journey in a rental car. Not wanting to cut the trip short she agreed. Disappointed but glad to at least get back on the road. Upon returning to Birmingham at the end of the trip Dasha discovered she had ceased the engine due to not checking her oil. So, the third lesson… CHECK CHECK CHECK YOUR OIL! Do not underestimate the importance of your pre-ride checks. It can literally mean the life or death of your bike and you also just want to ensure your safety as a rider as well. The next morning Dasha picked up her rental, and we were back on the road working our way along the NC500 route.
Saying good bye
From here it was just me on the road with a bike as Dasha followed in her curtsey car. Dasha nice and toasty in the car while my dealing with all the elements of rain and even a bit of snow. Typical Scotland. Both attempting make the most of the rest of the journey but obviously not the same with her in a car. We continued north to Smoo Cave, then travelling east along the northern coastline to Dunnet Head. The northern most point of the United Kingdom and for me another milestone achieved on my bike. From there we moved on to John O’Groats just down the road, a bucket list item for most who don’t realise that Dunnet Head is the actual northern point of the UK with much better views. At this point it felt like our adventure was slowly coming to an end as we started heading south. This part of the NC500 is not as exciting as the western coast and if I did it again would do the route counter clockwise rather than clockwise.
The day after leaving John O’Groats I received call that sadly I was expecting to get on this trip. Though the UK seemed to be lifting it’s Covid Restrictions sadly Canada wasn’t. Making it almost impossible for me to go home and see my family. It would be almost 3 years from my last visit by the time I would eventually be able to go home. This day I received a call from my Dad saying my Papa had passed away. My dad himself had barely made it to Nova Scotia, his home, to say good bye. I’d spent the weeks leading up to this trip helping my family with the paper work to make this possible due to Canada’s heavy restrictions. Being in the middle of nowhere in the Highlands there wasn’t much I could do. Dasha let me take some time to talk to my family and just have a moment to myself. My Papa was 92 and had lived a full life but it doesn’t make it any easier when it comes time to say good bye. Especially alone and half a world away. We took a few extra stops that that day. Just taking it easy. I needed some much necessary time in my helmet alone and honestly when Dasha departed in Edinbrugh it was the time I needed to properly grieve and be on my own for a few days.
Taking our journey through the famous Loch Ness, Inverness and then down to Edinburgh. Here is where Dasha continued, having to get back to Birmingham to return her rental and deal with her broken motorcycle. Leaving me to complete the rest of the journey on my own. I spent an extra night in Edinburgh enjoying the sites. Then slowly started making my way back down to Bristol over a few days. Taking my time riding through Northumberland National Park, North Pennines AONB, Yorkshire Dales National Park and the Peak District. All of which are amazing areas to ride through. Then finally arriving home in Bristol. Just over two weeks after setting off, approximately 2100 miles and successfully completing my first motorcycle tour.