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Being a lightly illustrated account of riding a relatively little-known annual point-to-point road rally in Wales on a somewhat shabby 1979 R80 TIC known as 'The Dreadnought':
So I've got this ex-Police Airhead. It's a 1979 R80 TIC.
It didn't work very well for a while. Then some mates came round and helped me put on new electrical bits and a secondhand fairing and it worked a bit better. Then I cleaned the carbs (twice) and after some comedy oil-eating moments I managed to more or less balance them.
And now it goes alright, actually. It won't win any beauty prizes but it does get me to work and back, 84 miles, every day. And its fun to ride.
Another good friend is fellow Airhead, Richard. He has given me a goodly portion of encouragement and advice when things have looked bleak with the Dreadnought. He lives in a town called Lampeter. In Wales, you'll note.
Every year for the last 10 or 11 years the Clive MCC runs the Welsh National Rally. This is a scatter rally - the organisers provide competitors with a list of checkpoints, some manned & some unmanned. For different levels of award the riders have to go to more checkpoints, including a number of mandatory ones. It's a great excuse to belt around Wales on a bike having a great time on great roads and see lots of places you wouldn't otherwise. All this and you're competing for an award - what more could a rider want?!
I've been entering the Welsh National Rally (WNR) for some years now - in fact this will be my 5th year. I've done it on an MZ ETZ301 and I've done the rally on a modern Aprilia too. This year the Dreadnought is working. But I don't know, not really, how well it's working, how reliably it's working. One good way to find out: do the WNR on it! Bonus: I can pop in on Richard and say hello!
So I've already entered the rally & don't need to specify vehicle until the day, so I start to plan. The details of the checkpoints turn up. They're scattered all across Wales and as well as the 40 unmanned checks, there are 6 manned and 8 extra ('Dragon') checkpoints too. Fortunately even for the Platinum award you don't have to do all of them! Between 08:30 and midnight I will need to:
- reach 15 unmanned checks, at which I'll have to find the answer to a question provided on the day
- visit 3 of the widely scattered manned checkpoints and do a quiz at each one
- find and visit 4 of the seriously distant 'Dragon' checkpoints where there will be a more complex answer to find.
I work on my routes and eventually have three sorted out: one for North Wales, one for South Wales and one for central Wales. This means that I have a vague chance of avoiding bad weather - Wales is noted for its rain, after all.
After several weeks of commuting with no real worries, I decide that I shall do the rally on the Dreadnought and visit Richard the day before. This means I will start with a lengthy (by UK standards) trip along the motorway and then a ride up through the Brecon Beacons to his place. After we've finished talking nonsense and drinking tea I'll be heading off to a little bed and breakfast in Forden that I love called Heath Cottage.
Leave booked from work, routes planned, all is set.
At this point I should like to just divert you for a moment to say that my friends call me "the unluckiest man in England" (which I am not) and they suggest that, to quote the immortal Jennings "things go around looking for you to happen to."
This is certainly how I felt when faced with a flat tyre some miles from home the evening before departing for Wales.
The recovery service provided by my insurance company took me and the bike home and, in a foul temper, I generally spoiled my Best Beloved's evening by stomping around and moaning.
Friday
The following morning, off came the wheel, in went a new tube and back on it went, all before 10:30 a.m. I then sorted out the left hand exhaust, which was attempting to abandon ship and for the sake of my peace of mind added some extra nuts, washers and spring washers to the right hand muffler mount too. After that I fiddled with the mirrors a bit, packed up some tools into the fairing bins and my very light luggage into a rucksack strapped to the rear seat, fitted the GPS and I was ready for the off!
Well, off as far as the petrol station anyhow. Here I filled the bike with 97 RON super-unleaded, with an extra litre going into my 'extra-reserve' - a litre fuel bottle that I always carry when on the rally. After 3pm on a Saturday it can be a bit difficult to find an open petrol station and an extra litre might just be enough to get me to a town...
Believe me, this is the voice of experience speaking.
And so I'm off, onto the motorway. The M4 takes me on a dull 70-75 mph amble down to Wales where I take advantage of the free toll for motorcycles on the Severn Bridge. That's £4.50 saved then! After that I turn North on some dual carriageways and then ride across the top of the Brecon Beacons on some really excellent roads. I arrive in Lampeter at around 4pm, giving me a good couple of hours of talking with Richard before he has to go to work. The route.
After sitting on his remarkable R100S with its Jota bars and rearsets, I notice that he has certain exhaust supports/brackets that are missing from mine. That'll be why the things come loose then. Must order them after the trip. I also notice that my left shock seems to have puked out a little bit of oil. Well, can't be helped at this point, so on I continue to the loveliest B&B in Wales. On my arrival the lady that runs the place makes me a good pot of tea to sit and drink in the dying rays of the evening sun. Lovely, just lovely.
So how has the R80 been? Well I'm very impressed, very impressed indeed. The lovely engine, combined with fairly low gearing, means that while it's a little stressed at motorway speeds on good quality and enjoyable 'A' and 'B' roads[i] there's more fun per beat to be had from this bike than I could have believed before the journey. The roll-on, roll-off nature of the engine is very relaxed on these roads, although the weight of the bike does mean that it needs to be muscled around bends more than a modern bike. Nevertheless I'll ignore an awful lot of things for a long time just because of that great engine braking!
It also helps that the front brakes, whilst being ATE, are twin disk and set up well - they're pretty good by that era's standards. They leave Richard in awe on his test ride - his bike's ATE brakes barely seem to work 
Down to the pub for a couple of pints of Brains and a meal & then I amble off to my room and sleep a deep sleep. Until the sheep wake me bleating at 6:00 anyhow.
250 miles so far.
Saturday
After a great breakfast I get the R80 out for the day's rallying. Off I trundle into Welshpool to the Start and sign on. I collect my list of clues and head off for the first proper roads of the day. I am, as always at the start of the rally, very excited 
A note on the weather. At the start of the rally the organisers have printed out BBC forecasts for North, South and Mid Wales. A few days ago it was threatening to rain all day over the whole country. Now it looks like we might get a shower or two in the North in the early evening. It's worth risking it - the roads in the North are, on the whole, much nicer than those in the South and the scenery's much, much better! North it is, then.
First off I am heading across some tiny back roads to cut off a loop round a mountain. This takes me to the main road to Llansantffraid. The R80 copes brilliantly with the tiny roads - certainly better than the Ducati of the chap behind me. On the other hand when I make a navigational error his bike is easier to turn round in the narrow lane. Whoops!
I have more fun on the 'B' roads to Llangynog and on to Bala. I stop to answer the clue by a lovely lake:
The road across to the lovely reservoir at Llyn Brenig is mainly full of sweeping and fast bends and the R80 behaves as though this is what it was born for. I can't praise it enough - roll on, roll off, oomph out of corners & its very happy to let me pitch in at speed, leaning what at least feels like a long way over. Beautiful
The checkpoint I'm aiming for is down an unpaved road and virtually at the water's edge. Actually, the road was paved once but that broke up a long time ago and it's never been renewed. It may (or may not  ) interest you to know that the first farmers in Wales were there at around 4,000 BC.
As I arrive at the end of the unpaved road I noticed that the bike was a bit louder on the right hand side. Inspection revealed that the collar that goes between downpipe and muffler has shifted forward & out of the joint. A bit of pushing & it slips back into place & I make a mental note to check it again in a few miles.
On I go to Llanbedr Dyffryn Clwyd . It seems to be the wrong place, although its the name on the map. Cue a number of confused looking riders wandering around a tiny village looking for the pub opposite the Great War memorial. I mean, its got a pub but appears to be sadly deficient in the war memorial department. The bike is noisy again and when it stalls I take the opportunity to re-insert the collar. It stalls because it has decided that it won't tick over, at least not all the time. Sometimes I stop & it ticks over for 30 seconds or so, sometimes it stalls straight away.
Anyhow, I read the clue again & head off to another Llanbedr Dyffryn Clwyd just a few miles down the road where there is both a pub (the White Horse, if you're interested) and a war memorial. Weird.
From here I move off in the general direction of the rather lovely Horseshoe Pass near Llangollen. The Ponderosa cafe[ii] at the top of the pass is a manned checkpoint. I sign in and enjoy comparing the R80 against the hordes of modern bikes. It isn't exactly pretty but it looks much more like a motorcycle than a tupperware container like the new bikes do. I forget to take a picture, of course.
No time for food, I'm off again for a good jaunt over to Garden City & Shotton steelworks for the next Dragon clue. This section starts off with me following a number of modern bikes back down the mountain. Lovely road, lots of fast-ish corners. Which they take very slowly. At first I give them room and just tag along at the back - in case they're waiting to warm up or something. After a mile or so I'm very bored with this. The back marker (on a Hondasaki CBR600RRRXRFGRSRXFF or whatever) isn't impressed at being overtaken & lets me know. The three middle chaps aren't bothered as they're overtaken through 2 corners. The leader seems miffed and moves out to try & stop me but I'm already past his pretty dashed new looking Triumph Speed Triple. Maybe he's running it in?
Getting closer to Garden City and I'm just sat on a large dual carriageway. Boring. And there's more of it to come after this check. I figure it out & while watching a number of other riders completely fail to read the clue properly and sail right past me, I take the opportunity to yet again sort out the right hand exhaust downpipe/muffler collar.
Off now onto the dreadful A55 across the top of North Wales towards Abergele. This is a terribly dull part of the journey although the R80 doesn't seem to mind sitting at 70 or so for some miles.
Once I arrive at Woods Motorcycles , the manned checkpoint in Abergele, I purchase some large jubilee clips and borrow a hammer. A number of riders are slightly amused to watch me hammer the collar fully into place and then firmly anchor it with two jubilee clips but I don't mind. I reckon if their exhaust had a problem they'd go home by recovery vehicle. It's a very effective repair, as it happens, that doesn't need looking at again.
As I exit the town I stop to take a picture of Gwrych Castle. You can't see it, of course, as it's a poor quality camera-phone:
I was so happy with the fact that I'd stopped to take a picture that I took one of the road & coastal line too. It's not very good either but what the heck:
From there it's the A55 again to Conwy where I find the answer in the Castle tourist information centre - who tell me they've had lots of people phoning to ask the question. What's the point in cheating like that? They're just denying themselves a ride and the chance to see a great place like this. There's nowt so strange as folk alright.
The B5106 is a charming (and fast) road down to Llanrwst to answer another clue (the answer was 1661, if you're interested).
From there it's into Snowdonia for the utterly magnificent road to Capel Curig and on in motorcycling rapture to Llanberis, where I pay a visit to the Welsh Slate Museum. I seriously consider turning round and going back to Llanrwst just so I can ride those roads again but time is pressing on and I need to get into Anglesey. The bike has again been a joy to ride, although my shoulders are aching slightly as on tight bends it can need a bit of wrestling to get it round at speed.
Over the Menai Bridge onto the Isle of Anglesey. After visiting Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch to get a translation[iii], I head off on a horrible section of the A55 to get to Holyhead. This part of the A55 is dull. Well, except the bits that are very dull. And the bits that are dreadfully dull. Add to this the fact that Holyhead isn't exactly lovely and you'll see why I'm only going there for a compulsory manned checkpoint.
After 21 miles that seemed like a bumpy eternity, I arrived in Holyhead and promptly mess up. Despite having a good GPS, I had a crisis of confidence vis-a-vis the location of the check. For the manned checks you get exact directions to them in advance but I can't remember if I've moved the waypoint to the actual location or not. A slow bimble round the outskirts of Holyhead revealed how relaxed and easy the bike is at trickle speeds.
So after finding the check I headed across the island to Amlwch, although I didn't get into the village itself as I needed to go to the old copper mines:
From there it is but a quick trip over to Moelfre and its pleasant harbour:
At this point I was stunned, not having seen many bikes older than mine on the rally[iv], to meet this chap on his 1958 Scott:
You don't see many of them on the road and you certainly don't see many that do an average of 4,000 miles a year!
After enjoying a chat about this remarkable machine, I'm off for a belt back to the mainland. Except I'm not. This section of Anglesey is covered with roads unnecessarily limited to 40 mph with double white lines[v] all over them. To cap it all, I seem to be out on the Isle of Anglesey's "Drive Much Slower Than The Limit" day. By the time I get to the bridge back to the mainland the rain that has been threatening for the last half hour has properly set in. I am also suffering from intense frustration from having done so much dawdling.
Candidly, the RT fairing on my bike does not do as much as it might to protect me from the rain. On the other hand by the time I get to Clynnog Fawr this is a Full Welsh Torrential we're talking about. If you've not experienced that, I can tell you it has a unique form of misery to it, especially when you turn onto unclassified roads that lead over a sodden, grey looking mountain.
The bike doesn't miss a beat. I know almost all the electrics are new but nevertheless I have been concerned. The relief is super.
It is still raining when I get to Llanystumdwy and see the outside of the Lloyd George museum. And still when I get onto the main road & pass the entrance to Portmeirion. That's the umpteenth time I've ridden past and never taken the time to stop and see the village. Ah well, one of these days.
From there, on to Penrhyndeudraeth to spend ages looking for a steak house that turns out to be miles down the road. Curses! I fill up with fuel. This is not the first time or the last. For the amusement of non-UK residents & citizens I shall tell you that it cost me £1.04 per litre. Excuse me while I go cry 
From here, with the rain gone I hit the A487. This road is
just wonderful, absolutely wonderful. Actually, it is much better than that.
Again it suits the R80 down to the ground. I reach the road running by the
beautiful Tal Y Llyn to the side of Cader Idris[vi] in a state of near delirium.
I have a friend, JKB, who is lucky enough to live round here. In fact where he lives backs onto the line of the Talyllyn railway. What a back-drop to life! I have time, I'm pleased to say, to drop in on him. It's only 7pm now and I've one checkpoint to do and then I'm off to the finish. We chat about this and that while I drink the tea he so thoughtfully provides. After that I show him the last clue which asks who a hidden plaque is dedicated to. He strokes this chin for a moment.
"I wonder if the answer is Stan Hugill," he muses: "I've heard him sing. He was the last of the shanty sailors. Dead now, of course."
A little more chat and I'm off for Aberdyfi. I follow the clue to find that the answer is ... Stan Hugill, who died in 1992. How about that?
From there I'm in the dying light as it's after 8pm and heading East across Wales to the finish at Castle Caereinion.
The A493, the A489, the A470 and the A485 are wonderful roads - especially on a Saturday evening when there's not too much traffic about. Nevertheless they're not undemanding roads and I've never ridden by the headlight of the R80 so I've no idea what that's going to be like. I decide to get a bit of a wriggle on & put on some speed so I can get as far as I can before the light completely goes. I have had previous experience of 1970s headlights with my Bonneville. Until it was upgraded I didn't take that out at night...
Actually, it turns out to be OK. Not exactly the Blackpool illuminations but it'll do. I manage to maintain my speed anyhow, despite the aching I now feel in my shoulders and knees. The bike is, however, suffering somewhat more from these bumpy roads. Both
rear shocks have died, venting oil onto their springs. The rear is
pogoing around rather, making the handling a bit less comfortable than
it was. It doesn't really stop the bike going round the corners but it
does mean that the back end feels less in good contact with the road.
They'll have to be replaced pretty soon.
I get to the finish at 9:45 pm, sign in, fill in some paperwork and that's it: the 2006 Welsh National Rally is over. Curses
After a substantial (and inexpensive) meal of chilli and rice, I head off back to Heath Cottage. I chat with my friend about how his day was for half an hour and then sleep like a log.
651 miles now.
Sunday
Another hale and hearty breakfast and then I settle the tiny bill (£25/night) and set off for home. I determine to take smaller roads again and thoroughly enjoy my ride home through some pretty towns and villages:
By 1pm, I'm home. My shoulders ache from man-handling this heavy bike around but I've fallen for its easy manners and great engine. What was bought as a Winter hack has become a favoured machine.
814 miles. Well, it's a good start
For anyone that's interested, here's some images & files:
[i] British road classifications are easily understood except that not all roads have a designated number. Well, they all do but it isn't posted on the road signs once the roads get below a certain size. These are generally known as 'unclassified roads', although actually they're mainly properly called 'C' roads. If it has gravel all over it or grass growing along the middle (or both), particularly if it's single track, then it's an unclassified road for sure.
[ii] no idea.
[iii] Saint Mary's Church in the hollow of the white hazel near a rapid whirlpool and the Church of St. Tysilio of the red cave.
[iv] one or two Nortons, a Triton & one Bonneville. I think I saw two other Airheads, but I'm not sure.
[v] no overtaking
[vi] Susan Cooper's Wales
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