RC reader John Powell really got into the swing of the Norton Challenge earlier this spring. A chill breeze was blowing when he rolled his Dommi out of the shed at 6am...

Common As…

I heard some friends were going to rent a holiday cottage in Orkney called ‘Norton Cottage’ What does a man do?

Never mind if the friends were not going to be there yet, and never mind that it is actually further from Newcastle to the Orkney ferry at Scrabster than it is to places on the channel coast, like Brighton or Portsmouth (who said we were the North? We are hardly half way up!). No, never mind all that. A man must do what a man must do.

Forecast: COLD, North east wind from the polar icefields, and rain overnight, clearing lunch time. After that, cold and dry, but with said wind, lighter to the North.

6 am and my Norton is out of her shed, and ready for the road. Set trip on back-up cycle type speedo to zero (the Chronometric gets used as a tank gauge).

And so, off northwards. Recent rain, but now sort of not raining. Roads fairly quiet, but wet. Engine humming nicely.

Here is a Northumbrian road. Northumbrian roads do have bends, but in the vertical plane, not the horizontal.

Nortons on Right Now......

On past Wooler, past the turning to Flodden battlefield site (scene of an ancient misunderstanding), road drying off now, and a deer crosses in front of me – safely ahead, mercifully. Over the border bridge and into Coldstream, and I enter Alex Salmond’s promised land (is he the geezer on the pillar?)

COLDD! I wear silk gloves inside simple leather outers, and the fairing should keep the wind off my hands, but stop to pull a second pair of silk gloves over the first.

And onwards.

110 miles and I am riding around the southern Edinburgh by-pass, masses of traffic having arrived from nowhere. And over the Forth bridge (sorry, could not take photo with camera in teeth while riding over).

Not far ahead is Al’s (Alistair’s) lake, where Al lives, and Al has coffee! Pull off one exit too soon, meander through two villages, but find lake and phone Al. Yes, it is just past 9.30, and he will put on the coffee.

40 minutes chat (it would have been better in the evening with a bottle), and out again. Sun, now, but not warmer. Pull out quilted jacked and put it on inside ‘falling-off jacket’ which itself has a quilted lining.

155 miles out. get fuel at next village. Devour Mars Bar at which point large dental filling comes out of tooth, mixed with Mars Bar. Damn this old age! Phone dentist for emergency appointment on Monday (It is now Friday). And off again.

Up past Perth, and past Burnham wood which did come to Dunsinane, thus really spoiling MacBeth’s day. Past Blair Atholl, KillieKrankie, Drumocheter moor and down to Speyside. Cairngorms covered in snow and skiing still clearly still going on.

Reach Aviemore, and lunch at a friendly café. Then gird up loins and onwards –

Rise over more moors and descend to by-pass Inverness. Peaceful pastoral country, with fields, trees, crops, moo-cows, distant sea and big hills in the background, And bridges over loads of ‘firths’ - Beauly firth, Moray Firth, Cromary Firth, and Dornoch Firth. Here’s the Cromarty Firth.

Another 160 miles run and more fuel needed.

Up past Golspie. The county changes to a road high on the hillside, with vast vistas of coast, dropping down into sudden glens where villages huddle and cuddle.

Through Helmsdale with its monument to the crofters who the Aristo of Sutherland packed off to become Canadians and New Zealanders, because he could make more dosh off sheep than he could off tenants. (The New Zealanders then set about producing sheep cheaper than he could, and put the [unprintable] out of business and a good job too).

The road forks – right to Wick, left to cut across inland to Thurso and Scrabster. Land now moonscape, with wild summits in the infinite distance. And a wind farm.

And so to Scrabster and at 6 pm, watch ferry coming in. Mileage on cycle speedo 429. But if you set up the cycle speedo to get it to agree with the Chronometric on speed, they do not agree on miles. Checking from refills, I get, by Chronometric, 155 + 160 + 97 = 412. Well, anyhow, lots.

Here comes the ferry.

And here is the Old Man of Hoy, through the ferry window.

And here is the view over the harbour, from my B&B.

Next, dawn, to complete my mission. Go to the end of the lake, turn right, next left through Dounby and Norton Cottage should be about a mile on the right. BUT there at two lakes and I turn at the wrong one. Various back-casts and find Dounby, which boasts a Co-op shop, post office, school, butcher, and undertaker (should you need one).

Head off on correct road, checking houses on the right, Start to run out of houses on the right. Stop. But what is the house on the LEFT behind me? It says NORTON COTTAGE!

VICTORY!

And so back to the ferry, because I have a dentist’s appointment.

(I am told there are further ‘Nortons’ on Orkney, but I decided to leave the others for the rest of you)

Good night!