Words by Clinton Thomas
This is the second in a three-part series from two people who rode to the North West 200 road-race this year and documented their incredible journey to let us all know how easy it is to get to this event and have a life-time experience.
48 hours ago I was at home contemplating cleaning my bike before a track day...
That was before londonbikers.com invited me to work along side the 2008 NW200 Ducati Team in a bid to promote the NW200 week events racing, and to get more people riding to the NothWest 200's 80th Anniversary next year in 2009. Each year the NW200's turn out gets bigger, but they want more families, more after race events, and most of all even more bikers to ride there and experience the high voltage atmosphere and the fabulous road racing.
So here is my diary of how I did it
The clock's ticking, I have to find another rider with a bike who's willing to cover the 1100 mile round trip, and it all has to be done on a affordable budget.
The second rider is Hennessy, a good friend of mine. He has been riding since he was four and is easily three seconds quicker than me anywhere, and the bikes we have are, an 04 GSX-R600 and an 06 Yamaha R6. So with just over 24 hours to go, everything is running as it should be, then I get a phone call from Hennesy, “My bikes been knocked over in the office car park, the damage isn't bad but with out a clutch lever the bike won't be going anywhere!”
It’s just gone four the morning, and after yesterdays accident and, only three hours sleep, I still some how manage to wake up before my alarm. Right, the bikes fixed and I’m waiting for Hennessy at a petrol station just one mile from the Ace Cafe, Hennessy's far from a morning person and he's late, by the time our bikes are fuelled, and good to go we're half an hour behind schedule.
The Race is On
As the crow flies, its just under 300 miles to Holyhead, but we're not crows so we have to go the long way round stopping for fuel every 110 miles if we're lucky.
We leave the petrol station and instantly I fire my bike into triple figures, setting the mood for the journey ahead, surging up the M1, heads swaying to the beat of our iPods, we're making up time easily. I smile to myself right before my bike hits back with a bright orange fuel light.
Peeling ourselves off our bikes, we were pleased to remove the heavy bags from our backs for just a minute. We had a stretch, quick chat and refuel. This is soon to be the longest distance I have ever covered by bike, so far I’m loving every mile of it.
Blasting past Warrington, we pass a bridge with cow’s crossing over head, I think to myself that it would make a stunning photo; it's a shame we can't stop or slow down. What little views I have managed to take in have all be in fast-forward, all but one, the police!! I was praying we could make the UK leg of our trip without seeing any, who was I trying to fool? We're on the A55 and slowing right down, paranoia begins to set in, did they see us or have they heard us? At this time in the morning were the noisiest things moving on the roads, and going way too fast.
Mr Officer needs to get a move on! We’re travelling at 58mph, stuck behind what feels like an automotive roadblock and we were getting later and later by the mile. Eventually he pulls off the motorway, we dial it up into the high hundreds again and check he's not about to rejoin behind us, who really cares if he does, we're gone…
We arrive 25 minutes early at a port full of motorcycles all waiting to dock the mammoth sized ferry.
The Ferry
Stena Line ferries are easy enough to board, their staff are very biker friendly and go out of their way and beyond to help you strap down your bike and any luggage you may have. They'll even supply foam pads to make sure your pride and joy leaves their ship in the same condition as it boarded (scratch free). The food on board is equal to most UK fast food restraints, and the two to three hour ride over to Dublin is just perfect for some chill out time before covering another 160 more miles ride towards Northern Ireland.
I have only one suggestion for the ferry voyage if you’re ever thinking of going; that booking the ferry could have been made simpler, we used Nutt Travel who are highly recommend when booking a bike transporting ferry.
The main problem that we found was obtaining quotes on-line, they aren't instant and need to be forwarded to you via email, which could take hours or a day. But, once you get through, you will find that the staff are willing to bend over backwards to help and will have you booked-in and on your way with very little fuss.
(Read how we got home, Nutt Travel were a massive help!)
Coleraine herer we come
The minute hand has just swept past eleven o'clock in the morning; we're right on time, Hennessy, myself and what looks like at least another 200 bikers all now have our Pirelli’s back on solid ground.
With Hennessy taking the lead, we have just less than 200 miles to cover, in what should take close to three. Being back on the road again never felt so sweet. The roads to Irelands M1 are very twisty, a spaghetti like circuit through to Dublin’s smoooth city streets, (yes, the roads are smooth enough to warrant that extra O). They also have Garda (police) at what feels like every third junction, so keeping your speeds and revs down should make your Dublin ride trouble free.
TIP: Use the petrol station just right of Dublin's port. Our TomTom showed us plenty of dead-ends and new builds instead of petrol stations, and being stranded this far from home is never going to be a memory you'll want to cherish.
We're here
We made it!!! Samantha Lawson from NW200 Ducati Team and the good folks at londonbikers.com pulled out all the stops. We're staying in a six bedroom, four-bathroom house just 1.4 miles from the track. We're here just in time for Thursday’s evening practise session, sweet!!!
Thursday’s practice session was an intense affair, bursting at the seams with the kind of full-on race action that the short circuit events can only dream of.
By the time we unloaded our luggage, the public roads had been closed, meaning we had to go without our media passes for the night. We paid a small entrance fee to gain access to a make shift grandstand in a hotel car park, enjoying the action just like everyone else.
John McGuinness, Michael Rutter and Guy Martin all thundered through their evening session, and when I got a quick word with the guys later, was told their bike felt great and they were all just hungry to get a couple more wins under their belts.
A long with the fast smooth racing action came break downs and crashes, one in particular was rumoured to be horrendous, but with all the riders checking out okay, the evening rolled on.
Viewing the evening session from small stands and hillsides showed the great lengths the NW200 organisation had gone to. To ensure that everyone from the high flying sponsors, to the person selling ice cream got a decent view of the action.
You will find stewards, police and even members of the public all willing to help you, they all seem to be fans of the country's most famous road race; a point that is reiterated when you look around and see a 70 year old lady enjoying her up close and personal view from her front garden and inviting others to join her.
When you come to the NW200 for 2009, be here for all three days, it's an event not to be missed, once there, I guarantee you'll be back.
Friday
The rev limiter light was flashing brightly in my visor. It had just gone dawn on a cool, bright Friday morning, and it was also qualifying day, but unknown to me there will be no racing action or festivities. The accident during the evening before in Thursday’s practice session turned out to be far from okay. One of Ireland’s greatest son’s, Robert Dunlop, died in the racing incident. This was tragic.
As a mark of respect to Robert Dunlop and his grieving family, all festivities in and around the NW200 circuit were cancelled, the paddock was opened to all, but you could feel just the sadness and sorrow in the atmosphere everywhere that day.
The open paddock gave everyone a chance to get behind the scenes and see a little of what makes the NW200 tick. If you timed it right you got to see a rider or two and watch the mechanics working on the machines. Things were kept low key out of respect, but it was still a great chance for families and fans to stock up on their petrol-fuelled addiction.
We decided to use the spare time that had now been given to us, to go and see some of Northern Ireland’s most beautiful sites. A coastal ride to the Giant’s Causeway is about a four-mile ride from Portstewart, and is one of the most popular destinations for bikers. Spectacular beaches, rock pools and breath taking views line some of the best views you may ever be lucky enough to ride - and not a Gatso in sight! It was like a dream. We had the best time just riding, stopping off and taking it all in, getting back on the bike again and hammering it up and down the incredible roads that were laid out in-front of us.
When in Rome
The evening on Friday was warm, and we were on the beautiful Irish coast; with the paddock closed for the night we decided it was best to do as the locals do and sample the nightlife. Now this was Ireland, and they know how to throw a good party, and cater for everyone. You have your typical Irish pubs, your fine wine bars and even bars serving drinks on the local bike strip.
I however, decided to followed the females and ended up on a bar right on the sea front, the ladies were fantastic, the guys friendly and the drunks were very drunk.
If you do visit the NW200 and decide to head out on the town there are only two places to go - Portstweat and the other got forgotten with my last JD & Coke…
Enjoy the local bars, but please stay safe, don’t be silly enough to drink and ride. With the police were doing regular stops; you’ll only get caught or killed. THINK!!!
Saturday - Race day
Race day, and the real reason this mini adventure all started. We started our day down in the paddock; we’d already parked up the bikes, eaten breakfast and walked what felt like a third of the track looking for that elusive untouched spot to get great photographs. After Thursday’s practice session fatality, the marshals had less flex in them than aGovernor at a youth offender’s camp! They moved us and every other photographer from any desirable location, leaving us stuck behind walls and fences. Mind you, no one can blame them! Safety first.
We could hear, what I can only describe as a large swarm of wasps coming towards us, the 125cc race was underway. The crowd were all hyped up, horns were blowing and what felt like a 1000 bikes fly-by us and the air filled with the smell of two-stroke. The atmosphere really waselectric; this IS what I live for.
With the 125’s reaching frighteningly fast speeds on what looked like a narrow street circuit, I literally couldn’t wait to witness a no-holes barred superbike attack, the NW200.
It was the last lap, of the last race in this year’s NW200, and with Guy Martin already out due to a mechanical fault, Michael Rutter and Steve Plater continue to switch positions, fighting for the win around this amazing nine-mile road circuit. We had been watching the action from the NW200 Ducati Hospitality; at least we could see the whole race in there.
It was the last corner, and Rutter had just gone from third to first, the Ducati suite completely exploded with cheers of joy, but before we had finished cheering a very unforgiving Plater had forced him back to third. The Ducati suite silenced and a 2008 NW200 winner’s dream was totally dashed.
This was real racing. The rewards, joys and disappointments are just a few reasons why I’ll be back.
When the paddock was empty and the crowds of cheering fans started to thin, we both took a breath and looked at each other, what an amazing weekend, we didn’t have to say anything. The coast was quiet and it was all over for another year. We were still up against the clock though as we still had to get back home. Hennessy has a son and loving woman to get home to, and I have a track day with Steve Plater, (NW200 winner) and Jamie Witham that I just totally refuse to miss.
We headed back to the house and got our heads down for the night, we had a long trip home ahead of us early in the morning.
Home, sweet home
With half a Ducati strapped to the rear of my bike, (by the way, this was some faring from Michael Rutter’s race bike that I had managed to get hold of,) we roll our bikes to the end of our street, turn on the TomTom and start heading south for our long journey home. We were twenty minutes into our trip and we were both starting to running out of petrol…
In Ireland and unknown to us, petrol stations aren’t open 24 hours a day;this isn’t Central London you know! Some don’t even open on Sundays, and with all four of the last stations that we passed were closed, we were running on fumes, and we even had to resort to flagging down passing cars.
Late again, but fully fuelled we’re doing silly speeds in a bid to get to Dublin on time. The morning’s fuel station problems had us feeling like lady luck has forgotten us. Hennessy pulled over, the TomTom decided to die. For no understandable reason it had turned off and wouldn’t reboot. Frustrated and getting really late for our ferry, we were flagging down cars asking for directions once again, but no one seemed to know the directions to Dublin.
If that wasn’t bad enough our fuel lights decided to go red, it has gone way past flashing yellow! With only four miles remaining in Hennessy’s tank and all the locals saying that we won’t find an open petrol station for at least another 20 miles. We had been beaten and had taken refuge in a petrol station resembling a chicken coop; we sat there and prayed that this particular station opens on a Sunday. We knew now that we wouldn’t get on our designated ferry.
Things had got that desperate that we had to phone our girls Sian and Jodie back in London to see if they could help us sort out the ferry side of things. They managed to contact Nutt Travel (A BIG THANK YOU to Bill at Nutt Travel) and squeeze us onto another ferry, just a small distance outside Dublin.
With that not to worry about we concentrated on wishing the petrol station open! A man eventually turned up, we filled up the bikes and hammered it in the right direction for the ferry.
The journey home was long and very tiring; we only stopped to fill up the bikes, empty our bladders and stretch our legs.
Back home tired, beat up and very relived, we both knew that we would do it all over again and be back again next year.
So, if this story of our mad journey has given you the inspiration to go along next year and experience the one and only North West 200, book your time off work, book your ferry well in advance, and I would advise carrying an extra fuel keg!! We’ll be there next year, so join us for the 80th NW200 Anniversary in 2009.
Part three coming soon!
The NW200 80th Anniversary: 2009 - Next year marks eighty years of the NW200 road-race, an incredible feat, make no mistake. This will be a prime chance for everyone to experience such an amazing event, regarless of whether or not you're a race fan. We're thinking that next year we'll go up there with a large LB contingent. Fancy it? We sure do!
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NW200 – The Ride, Race & Total Experience #1
NW200 – The Ride, Race & Total Experience #2
Related Articles
NW200 – The Ride, Race & Total Experience
Related Links
www.northwest200.org
www.nutttravel.com
