This was the third day of our 12 day motorcycle trip from London to Santander, Spain.
The previous two days had taken us from London to leMans in France, then from leMans to Montlucon where we had just spent the night.
The weather had been glorious so far, but today the sky was grey and there was an orange weather warning for our part of France. We were heading out from Montlucon to Millau, made famous by the spectacular bridge and were taking the dual carriageway for some 100 miles before turning off into the Massif for our first taste of mountain riding.
There were eight of us in all, with a collection of bikes including BMW R types, a couple of Deauvilles, a Kawasaki 900 and a GSX1100 based Bimota SP6. My ride was a Triumph Rocket 3, on which I had only covered some 335 miles before setting off from England.
So far, France had been an absolute blast, the Rocket proving very stable, (at over 800 lbs it should be), fast and fine round the bends we encountered off the main routes in the French country side. But today looked like it was going to be wet.
Sure enough, after about half an hour’s riding from Montlucon the heavens opened. Now I haven’t ridden much in the rain in recent years and had forgotten what it’s like to have your visor covered in rain drops. The small summer screen I had had fitted to the bike was of little use in deflecting the rain, but we stuck at it, maintaining a steady slightly above the speed limit for an hour or so before stopping for a coffee.
Before leaving for this trip, I knew my trousers were water proof, thought my jacket was waterproof, and thought my boots were also waterproof. I was right about the trousers!
When we dismounted at the service area my feet were squelching in my boots, my shirt and jacket were completely soaked through and my gloves were dripping!
The rain had been coming down in stair rods but the Rocket had again excelled. Even when overtaking large articulated trucks there was little movement and I even allowed myself to watch the tyres of the trucks displace the water, something I’ve never done on a bike as every other machine I have owned has been subject to buffering when overtaking this type of vehicle. The engine never missed a beat, and the brakes were fine.
Despite the fact I could hardly see, I started to enjoy myself. I had had fog lights and heated grips fitted and was glad I had. With the grips on at their lowest setting my hands were wet but comfortable, even as we went over 1500 metres altitude.
We stopped for lunch in a very pretty village just outside the mountains of the Massif and sheltered from the thunderstorm that now overtook us.
Heading back to our bikes after lunch the sun duly came out, but little did I know it, whilst the weather had changed, so was my attitude to the Rocket about to change.
Similar Posts:
- French Motorcycle Trip – Day 3
- Motorcycle Tour Through France and Spain – London to LeMans
- French Motorcycle Tour – LeMans to Montlucon
- French Motorcycle Trip – Day 4
- A European Motorcycle Trip – Andorra
