Daniel Kalal
Cruisin' Guzzisti
Being a highly edited version.
It's Monday morning, and time to start riding.
I had no intention of staying on the Autostrada more than needed, and as soon as I could I turned south. I wouldn't be on any toll highway for the rest of the trip.This is a fairly easy pass. It'd be even easier if I took the tunnel route, but there wouldn't be much point in that.
Now I'm largely out of the alps and running through the lower mountain region of eastern France. This is a beautiful area.
I'm well off the main highway now.
I don't know if they saw the rocks and decided to run the road through them as a challenge, or if they had no choice. Bit of both, I suspect.
The Stelvio holds 32 litres, so that makes it more relaxing.
There isn't much traffic out here.
I wonder what the history of this road is? This must have been very difficult to build.
Saint-Vallier along the Rhone River.
Mont Saint-Michel. By riding to a remote location to take this shot, I have avoided showing the mass of cars and tour busses and the extended parking areas. There's even a reptile house, which pretty well caps off any serious tourist destination. So, no; I did not make it over to the monastery.
Saint-Malo is an old city that has often needed its fortifications. It didn't help much in World War II.
I packed straps with me, but did not need them. A ferry worker did a conscientious job at securing everything with the single strap.
Motorcycles were first on, but we were certainly not first off.
The next morning, it was still raining, but not so heavy as to be a nuisance.
Salisbury.
It wasn't raining too much, but it was surprisingly windy.
Stonehenge. The planning folks have done quite a good job at isolating the large parking area and all the tour busses away from the monuments. There's a walking underpass that takes you under the road to Stonehenge, so once you're at the site, you don't feel as if you're surrounded by too much of the modern age.You cannot get closer than this (unless you are a cad). This is all for the good. The grass is allowed to grow, and everybody will get a photograph that is of the monument, and not dozens (hundreds) of people getting in the way.
The rain was becoming an annoyance. Time for a break.I asked the bar keep what town this was: “It's Royal Wootton Bassett!” All three names.
I love these roads.
No! I've got nothing for you! The cows were all coming at a fast clip when they saw me taking their picture. I'm sure they were disappointed.
Craven Arms is short of the border, but would be a good place to stop for the night.
It's nice to have a large table to spread a map out. Michelin maps are the size of a bed spread.
Yes; this is the road I'm on.
Lake Vyrnwy. The stone dam was built in the 1880s to supply fresh water to Liverpool. Another tip-of-the-hat to our Victorian civil engineers.
This day, and the next, might have been my favorite of the trip. Amazing valleys.
Dolgellau. It was time to stop and decide how far north I would be going, and when I'd head to the coast. Wales was under a severe flood warning, and I was doing my best to avoid areas that were under evacuation.
That's a bacon-mushroom toastie.
Water everywhere, and not always where it should be.
THedges everywhere. The road is wide enough for one car and a motorcycle to pass. An advantage of the Moto Guzzi Stelvio is that it's a very tall motorcycle. My head is often above the hedges, so I can see things that drivers in cars cannot. For instance, I can often see cars coming, when I know that they cannot see me.
Rhayader for the night. This is Brynafon, which was once a work house. Things are much better for a guest than they would have been in 1870 (the workhouse closed just before World War II).
I liked how the roads were draped over the hills. In places they were quite steep, but you get used to that.
Tintern Abbey is at the boundary of Wales along the Wye River.
The rain was coming down softly, which seems to have kept the other visitors in the gift shop. I had the whole place to myself.
Yes; it's raining, but it's still a beautiful place to ride.
Fordingbridge. Too wet, and perhaps too cold. By this time, my waterproof gloves were soaked, and I had damp socks inside my waterproof boots. There is a limit, and when cars are pulling to the side, that might be it.
This would be the return trip on the same boat. For this direction, the trip would take eleven hours. And since it would be during the night, I booked a cabin. It's not a big cabin (which can be had at a price), but it's all I need.
Barns are interesting no matter where you find them. Function over style, always.
Mur-de-Sologne.
Bengy-sur-Craon. A good place to stop for lunch.
Châtillon-en-Bazois. I really did need fuel, but the sign on the door said he wouldn't be back until around 2:00. No problem, that's just fifteen minutes from now.
That's Geneva in the distance, and the Alps beyond.
Chamonix-Mont-Blanc. This is where the very-long Mont Blanc tunnel takes you through the Alps. I'm not interested in that.
Etroubles for the night. It was still early, but I was no longer under any time constraints. Better to spend the last night on the rode in the mountains.
I'm riding the road that goes around the mountain, not the one that goes through it.
Every pass is fortified.
Viverone. A beautiful lake.
Carisio. I'm riding across the level plains back to Lake Como, doing my best to stay off the autostrada.
Rice fields.
My cards are not welcome in the machines, but this one takes bills.
Barengo.
And, back in Mandello Del Lario. It couldn't have been smoother; the bike performed perfectly
It's Monday morning, and time to start riding.
I had no intention of staying on the Autostrada more than needed, and as soon as I could I turned south. I wouldn't be on any toll highway for the rest of the trip.This is a fairly easy pass. It'd be even easier if I took the tunnel route, but there wouldn't be much point in that.
Now I'm largely out of the alps and running through the lower mountain region of eastern France. This is a beautiful area.
I'm well off the main highway now.
I don't know if they saw the rocks and decided to run the road through them as a challenge, or if they had no choice. Bit of both, I suspect.
The Stelvio holds 32 litres, so that makes it more relaxing.
There isn't much traffic out here.
I wonder what the history of this road is? This must have been very difficult to build.
Saint-Vallier along the Rhone River.
Mont Saint-Michel. By riding to a remote location to take this shot, I have avoided showing the mass of cars and tour busses and the extended parking areas. There's even a reptile house, which pretty well caps off any serious tourist destination. So, no; I did not make it over to the monastery.
Saint-Malo is an old city that has often needed its fortifications. It didn't help much in World War II.
I packed straps with me, but did not need them. A ferry worker did a conscientious job at securing everything with the single strap.
Motorcycles were first on, but we were certainly not first off.
The next morning, it was still raining, but not so heavy as to be a nuisance.
Salisbury.
It wasn't raining too much, but it was surprisingly windy.
Stonehenge. The planning folks have done quite a good job at isolating the large parking area and all the tour busses away from the monuments. There's a walking underpass that takes you under the road to Stonehenge, so once you're at the site, you don't feel as if you're surrounded by too much of the modern age.You cannot get closer than this (unless you are a cad). This is all for the good. The grass is allowed to grow, and everybody will get a photograph that is of the monument, and not dozens (hundreds) of people getting in the way.
The rain was becoming an annoyance. Time for a break.I asked the bar keep what town this was: “It's Royal Wootton Bassett!” All three names.
I love these roads.
No! I've got nothing for you! The cows were all coming at a fast clip when they saw me taking their picture. I'm sure they were disappointed.
Craven Arms is short of the border, but would be a good place to stop for the night.
It's nice to have a large table to spread a map out. Michelin maps are the size of a bed spread.
Yes; this is the road I'm on.
Lake Vyrnwy. The stone dam was built in the 1880s to supply fresh water to Liverpool. Another tip-of-the-hat to our Victorian civil engineers.
This day, and the next, might have been my favorite of the trip. Amazing valleys.
Dolgellau. It was time to stop and decide how far north I would be going, and when I'd head to the coast. Wales was under a severe flood warning, and I was doing my best to avoid areas that were under evacuation.
That's a bacon-mushroom toastie.
Water everywhere, and not always where it should be.
THedges everywhere. The road is wide enough for one car and a motorcycle to pass. An advantage of the Moto Guzzi Stelvio is that it's a very tall motorcycle. My head is often above the hedges, so I can see things that drivers in cars cannot. For instance, I can often see cars coming, when I know that they cannot see me.
Rhayader for the night. This is Brynafon, which was once a work house. Things are much better for a guest than they would have been in 1870 (the workhouse closed just before World War II).
I liked how the roads were draped over the hills. In places they were quite steep, but you get used to that.
Tintern Abbey is at the boundary of Wales along the Wye River.
The rain was coming down softly, which seems to have kept the other visitors in the gift shop. I had the whole place to myself.
Yes; it's raining, but it's still a beautiful place to ride.
Fordingbridge. Too wet, and perhaps too cold. By this time, my waterproof gloves were soaked, and I had damp socks inside my waterproof boots. There is a limit, and when cars are pulling to the side, that might be it.
This would be the return trip on the same boat. For this direction, the trip would take eleven hours. And since it would be during the night, I booked a cabin. It's not a big cabin (which can be had at a price), but it's all I need.
Barns are interesting no matter where you find them. Function over style, always.
Mur-de-Sologne.
Bengy-sur-Craon. A good place to stop for lunch.
Châtillon-en-Bazois. I really did need fuel, but the sign on the door said he wouldn't be back until around 2:00. No problem, that's just fifteen minutes from now.
That's Geneva in the distance, and the Alps beyond.
Chamonix-Mont-Blanc. This is where the very-long Mont Blanc tunnel takes you through the Alps. I'm not interested in that.
Etroubles for the night. It was still early, but I was no longer under any time constraints. Better to spend the last night on the rode in the mountains.
I'm riding the road that goes around the mountain, not the one that goes through it.
Every pass is fortified.
Viverone. A beautiful lake.
Carisio. I'm riding across the level plains back to Lake Como, doing my best to stay off the autostrada.
Rice fields.
My cards are not welcome in the machines, but this one takes bills.
Barengo.
And, back in Mandello Del Lario. It couldn't have been smoother; the bike performed perfectly
