After I had done my first verifiable IBA rides towards the tale end of last year - please note, NOT my first “1000 miles plus in 24 hour” rides, just my first ones capable of being verified JJ - Sonia decided that when the time was right (i.e. not in the winter), she would like to do one too.  Then the IBA UK, decided to put together the “Monte Carlo or bust” weekend.  The premise was simple - starting from Calais, ride down to Monte Carlo, turn around and ride back.  Do it in fewer than 24 hours and you achieve a SS2500k (1500 miles) Gold.

Now, there was one small problem in that plan for me.  Because Sonia hadn’t “done” an IBA ride before, “all” she could go for was a SS1600k (1000 miles in 24 hours) and so, being the dutiful husband that I am, I forewent the possible glory of the full ride and volunteered to “keep Sonia company” for the 1000 miles down to Lyon and back. 

And then “number one son”, John, decided he wanted to come along as well.  The fact that prior to his decision to do the ride, he had never ridden any more than 200 miles in a day before, didn’t seem to faze him.  Ah, the exuberance of youth ……

All was arranged.  Hotels booked, Chunnel tickets arranged and then two days before “the off” the French fishermen blockaded the Channel ports of Calais, Dieppe and Boulogne.  Sympathetic Frenchies also threatened to block the Channel Tunnel terminal.

We had a couple of anxious days scanning the news websites every hour or so for updates, but early on the Thursday morning, the fishermen called off the blockade and it was “game-on” !!

By the time, we set off on the Thursday evening for Folkestone, the French “raiding party” had grown to four, with Johns girlfriend, Rachel, deciding to come along as well – albeit not on the ride itself.

 Apart from the fact that for the last 50 miles or so, we rode in torrential rain, the ride down was as nondescript as the journey down to Folkestone ever is.  We stopped at Oxford services and practised our “three bikes at three pumps” filling up routine in preparation for the IBA ride.  Somehow though once the moment of filling up had passed and the petrol caps were locked, the “three” bit reverted to “one” and it was “good old dad” that paid for three lots of fuel and got three receipts using his “one” credit card ……

Two other things of note are worth recording regarding the ride down to Folkestone.  The rain confirmed in Rachel’s mind that she had made the correct decision to spend the day in Calais shopping and relaxing whilst we were doing the ride and John lifted his “biggest distance in a day” record up to 224.1 miles.  Mmmmm ……

Friday dawned to further rain.  It rained whilst we had breakfast and it rained whilst we loaded up the bikes.  It then rained as we rode to the tunnel terminal.  It rained whilst we waited for the train and given that it was still raining when we rode off the train at Calais, I suggest it probably rained all the while we were 200 feet under the English Channel seabed.  The first thing we did when we arrived at the Car Ferry IBIS hotel was to change into dry clothes and hang the bike gear up to dry – or at least some of us did ……

Whilst we had been waiting at the Channel Tunnel Terminal, I had occasion to glance at Johns’ back tyre and noticed that it was starting to break up.  The tread wasn’t particularly low, but I assume given that the bike had very few miles on it when John bought it last year, it was just age that was causing this – presumably, the tyre on it was the original from back in 2004.  Rather than take any chances, I decided to get a new tyre fitted before we left for the IBA ride the next day.  With Calais being a fairly major town, the main bike shop keeps a good supply of spares and by 2.30pm, I was back at the hotel, with a new rear tyre on the Daytona 600 (“dad” having paid again !!) and finally out of my leathers and into some dry clothes.

By now, Roger Allen and David Badcock were both “in residence” and with my “family” arriving back from their lunch at a seafront restaurant, we took the opportunity to make our formal introductions.  Roger completed our respective witness forms and then we took the chance to have a couple of hours sleep before dinner.

By 9.00pm, we’d eaten and were back in our rooms trying to get some more sleep but in reality, only at best, “cat-napping”.  Our plan was to leave the hotel sometime around 1.00 am.  The route was fairly straight forward : Calais – Reims – Troyes – Dijon – Lyon – Dijon – Troyes – Reims – Calais.  Any potential shortfall on the distance that we experienced, I was planning to make up in and around the Calais area when we returned.

I know in my heart that I couldn’t sleep because primarily I was worried about how both John and Sonia would cope with the ride.  Although Sonia has done 600 mile days before now, it’s a big step up to the 1000 mark and as for John, well if he did complete the SS1600k, he’d have quadrupled his best previous distance !!

At midnight, I gave up lying in bed wide-awake and rose to dress.  I “persuaded” Sonia to leave the confines of a warm comfortable bed and I had to knock Johns’ room door so hard to wake him that the guy in the next room answered his door and uttered something that I can only assume was not exactly complimentary in French.  This was not exactly the “up and at ‘em” start that I was hoping for from “wifey and son” !!

By 1.00pm though, we had assembled in the car park and were ready for the “off”.  Roger had come to see us away and even Rachel had momentarily left her bed and stepped outside to bid us and her boyfriend “adieu”.

The first requirement was for a starting receipt.  Steve Freeman had decided to follow us to the garage, despite my protestations that I didn’t actually know where the station was and that I was just relying on the receptionists assurances that the station was very easy to find. …….

Let me tell you this, riding around side streets in Calais at one o’clock in the morning, leading three other bikes and following directions that are clearly incorrect is not the greatest way to start an IBA ride !!  We did finally locate the station and with the three bikes at three pumps (and one bloody credit card !!) system operating efficiently, we were soon off and picking up signs for Reims.  We didn’t know it at the time, but Steve had temporarily needed to return to the hotel for some running repairs to his bike – I had wondered why he’d never overtaken us !!

I had previously stressed to both Sonia and John the need to get into a rhythm on the ride as quickly as possible.  To do the 1600 kms needed in the 24 hours available we would have to average out at around 67 kph.  In reality, the plan was to get back to Calais at somewhere around 20-hours.  That meant the “target average speed” needed to be 80 kph and before long, we were bowling along quite nicely at a figure in excess of that, at around the 100 kph mark.  This was a nice steady maintainable speed, especially during the hours of darkness and in the slightly wet weather that we were riding through (and would do so for the next three and a half hours). 

Three bikes came past us just south of Bethune.  I recognised the Harley of Dave Badcock as being one of the bikes.  At the time, I didn’t know the identity of the other two (and still aren’t 100% sure).  I secretly envied the pace that they were riding at.  When I’m travelling on my own on the Daytona, I tend to wind it up to somewhere just below the 100mph mark (yes mom, I know ….).  At that speed myself and the Daytona are completely comfortable with each other.  Today though was all about my “responsibilities” as a husband and dad and helping to get John and Sonia through the ride.

We made our first fuel stop just south of St Quentin.  We’d been on the road for a little over 2 hours and had covered just short of 200 kms.  After filling up, both Sonia and John added a couple of extra layers of clothing as the temperature seemed to have dropped quite considerably since leaving Calais.

With the bikes full, we set off again.  When we discussed the ride earlier in the week, we had agreed that we would do the journey in 200km legs – ride for 200km and fill up, then ride for a further 200km and have a decent break, then repeat the pattern again.  By 6.00am, we’d covered the next 200km and were just south of Troyes.  Breakfast now beckoned.

I could tell that both Sonia and John had “suffered” a little on the first quarter of the trip.  At breakfast, I did my best to try to convince them that the worst part of the journey was over.  The remainder of the ride (or the most part of it) would be in daylight and it had finally stopped raining !!.  As we left the service area after topping up the bikes again, the sun even made its first appearance of the day and by the time we were at our next fuel stop, just to the south of Dijon, we were riding in bright spring sunshine.  We had now covered some 600 km.  Lyon and the “turn-around” point was barely 200km further south.  When I pointed this out to my two intrepid companions, I noticed a slight extra willingness from them to get back on their bikes.

Just to the north of Lyon is Villefranche (or more pertinently the toll-booths for the Reims-Lyon Peage).  As we slowed down to join the queue to pay, to my left, I saw a blur that was Phil Weston on his way south (this was whilst his wheel bearings were still acting as nature intended JJ) and then in my mirrors saw that we’d been temporarily joined by Taff Davies who was also using Lyon as his turn-around point.  Immediately through the booths (“dad” paid again – anyone notice a recurring theme here ?), our immediate concern was for fuel and a “turn-around receipt”.  We somehow managed to lose Taff but later we briefly saw him again heading north as we were continuing south for a few further kilometres to ensure a 1600 km plus ride.

Fuel was no problem as there was a service station around 20km south of the toll-booths although our trip readings at this point were still showing less than 800km – well mine and Johns were.  Sonia’s’ speedometer reads about 15% higher than it should due to the fact that the speedometer drive on the Rocket III had not been recalibrated after the trike conversion.  For obvious reasons therefore, we used mine and Johns trip readings on this ride rather than the Trockets !!

The 800km did not come up on the trips until we had circumnavigated Lyon to the east and were well south of it and about a third of the way to St. Etienne.  However once we were safely over the “halfway to a SS1600k” ride, at the very next service station at Communay on the A46, we had a “coffee and cake” each, got our three receipts and after riding down to the next junction, turned around and headed for “home”.  As we rejoined the A46, but this time heading north, my clock showed noon.  We were an hour in front of a “24 hour ride”.  In fairness, I’d always suspected that if I could get John and Sonia to the halfway point and still ahead of schedule, we’d make up some time on the return journey.

We needed fuel again before we reached Dijon (the Trocket only has a “safe” range of 120/130 miles) and again before we got back to Troyes.

Apart from one short (and sharp) shower just to the north of Dijon, we continued to ride in warm pleasant sunshine and, having reached the three quarter distance by the time we were just to the north of Troyes (and as importantly created breathing space in our schedule having “upped the ante” as far as speed had been concerned for the previous 400km), we decided to stop for a late lunch. 

Suitably replenished we returned to the bikes.  To my horror I saw what suspiciously looked like brake fluid covering the rear left hand sub frame of the Trocket.  As always happens in this case, a thousand thoughts race through your mind and to say I was suitably relieved when I discovered that it wasn’t brake fluid but “merely” oil from the left hand shock absorber (whose seal had decided to give up the ghost), was an understatement.  Although, the Trocket still has the normal Rocket III front wheel braking system, because of the mass of the thing, most braking from speed is done with the rear brakes, the front one being used just for slow speed manoeuvring.  The thought of Sonia having to ride the remaining miles to Calais and then back home with only the front brake was not something that I particularly relished.  I wiped as much of the oil off the sub frame and bodywork as I could, thinking that I could really do with washing it off properly before we got going again but decided against that in the interests of time.  Little did I know that nature would be doing that particular task for me and with a vengeance, before too long.

We had now been on the road for 17 hours and covered nearly 1300km.  Sonia and John especially, had long since broken their respective individual “records” for most miles in a day and I could see the “sparkle” in their eyes of being tantalizingly close to completing the ride as we filled up again at the Sommesous service area. 

And then “mother nature” had her final attempt at stopping them.

Although the weather had been pretty “shitty”, to say the least, in Calais on the Friday, all of the weather forecasts for the Saturday had suggested that once the (very) early morning rain had cleared, the remainder of the day (and especially for the route of our ride) was going to be pleasant spring weather and this is how the day had panned out so far.  Yes, we’d had the little shower just north of Dijon, but apart from that, it had been sunshine all of the way virtually since dawn.  That was all about to change …….

Just to the north of Troyes, ominous dark clouds began to gather in front of us and although secretly you hope that at any minute the road will suddenly swing in another direction, my head told me that the clouds were directly to the north of us and more importantly between us and Calais.  A quick stop in a lay-by and on came the waterproofs.

To describe what we rode through for the next 60 miles as “merely” a rainstorm would be akin to describing World War II as a bit of an argument between a couple of guys.  The rain fell so heavily at one stage, that I could actually feel it hitting my helmet as though it were hail.  Visibility fell to no more than a few yards and even less when a homicidal lorry driver flew past you at what felt like 600 mph !!  As we pulled into the toll booth just to the south of Reims, the sunshine that had been with us for most of the day was an already distant memory.  The rain continued to fall as we rejoined the Peage to the north of Reims and for a good few miles thereafter, before the clouds eventually began to clear and the sun again began to show itself.   One a positive note though, at least the oil had been washed off from the bodywork of the Trike J J J ……….

It was 7.12 pm when we made our final fuel stop on the journey at the very same station where we had made our first stop, some 16 hours earlier.  The station looked so much more appealing in the dry, in the daylight and only 200kms from the finish of the ride rather than as it had done earlier the same day, in the wet, in the dark and 1400k  from the finish !! 

…… and all we had now to do, was to ride the last couple of hundred kilometres back to Calais. 

With the end so close, we lifted our speed “considerably”.  Although Johns’ bike is restricted to 33bhp (because of his age), it’s still good for well in excess of 100mph.  The Trocket will comfortably cruise at three figures and of course the Daytona is a “160mph plus” superbike.  It’s fair to say that the last few kilometres may have been covered at “slightly in excess of the speed limit” – again, sorry mom !!

Just before finishing, we needed a slight detour via Dunkirk to get safely above the 1610 kilometres needed for the ride and we took the opportunity to collect our finishing receipt at the same time.  It also gave us the opportunity to have a last cup of coffee together and for John and Sonia to reflect on exactly what they had done over the previous 20 or so hours.  It almost doesn’t need to be said (but I will anyway) that as “the husband and dad”, I was immensely proud at how they had both completed the ride and completed it in some style (and in some pretty crappy weather for a good part of it).

We finally arrived back at the IBIS hotel just after 10 o’clock, a little over 21 hours since leaving.  Taff Davies had already made it back and formed along with Roger and Rachel, a suitable welcoming party.

The ride had ended.

Subject to verification, John had probably become the youngest IBA UK member, Sonia had probably become the first UK IBA member to do a SS1600k on a trike and the fact that three members of the same family completed an IBA ride together must surely be some sort of record somewhere !!

Some statistics :

Distance covered (per Daytona 955i) : 1681 km

Fuel Consumption :

Daytona 955i              :   94.27 litres ( 50.36 mpg)

Rocket III Trike          : 156.40 litres ( 30.36 mpg)

Daytona 600               : 100.09 litres ( 47.44 mpg)

Costs – Fuel and Tolls (Paid for by “Dad” !!!!)

Daytona 955i              :  183.59 euros

Rocket III Trike          :  269.91 euros

Daytona 600               :  191.26 euros

We stood and chatted for a while in the bar before Taff “hit the sack”.  We were not long behind him, leaving Roger alone and waiting for the remainder of the guys to “return to base”

I suspect that before John and Sonia’s heads hit the pillows on their beds that they were asleep…..

Unsurprisingly, Sunday dawned to sunny clear skies …….

It was 11 o’clock before we left the hotel and we were the last of the IBA crew to leave.  We’d seen Roger, Dave and Steve leave as we had eaten breakfast.  The remainder of the guys had already departed before we rose – all apart from Phil that is, who was still on his way back from Monte Carlo !!

We had a little ride down the coast to Cap Griz Nez and Cap Griz Blanc to do a bit of sightseeing.  After all, whilst me, John and Sonia had seen a great deal of  France – albeit at 70 mph – Rachel had spent the day marooned in Calais,  before making our way back along the old roads to the Tunnel Terminal.  

Whilst we were waiting to board the train, there was a guy in front of us on a big Kawasaki who came over to chat, delighting in telling us of the “big” mileage he’d covered over the weekend – 450 miles ……  He didn’t quite seem to be able to grasp what we were telling him when we said where we’d been the previous day.  I really didn’t have the heart to tell him about the rest of the IBA guys who’d done the “big ride” !!

Once back in the UK, it was simply a case of head down, throttle open and head for home.  We finally arrived back at Pottal Pool just before 5.00pm. 

John immediately started planning his assault on the 2009 Britbutt Rally ………….

One last thing.  Earlier in my diary and following on from me going up to the IBA Annual meeting at Trentham Gardens, I wrote the following :

“ …… Unfortunately, the remainder of the presentations and the questions and comments from the floor during and after them, actually served only to highlight to me that I’ve little in common with these guys, other than the fact that like them, I enjoy covering “big” road miles.  Talks about heating clothing, heated bar grips and Sat-Navs, may just as well be in Polish for all that I understand (or can relate to) them.  Nevertheless they all seem a reasonably decent group of guys, just not my sort of guys. ……”

Actually, I was wrong and I’m now very much of the conclusion that they are my “sort of guys” …...