Short Way Down

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Short way down

(Day 3)

We were all woken to a beautiful blistering hot  day in the South of the Mosel;  Keith, Mel, Heinz, Walt and myself. Sat nav was inputted by Keith, “which way are we travelling?” I asked.

“If we cut through Austria rather than Switzerland we should make Italy by the evening, steady plod, what do you think?” Keith answered.

“Sounds good”, I said. Although this was Keith’s dream trip, there had always been a bit of rivalry between us. This went back 20 years or more when we all bought our first superbikes and he hated being overtook. I would always throw the gauntlet down and he would always take up the challenge. I can smile and frown to some of the challenges but it was always good competitiveness. So a route was set, he just wanted confirmation that we all agreed, knowing that the others are sometimes just happy to go with the flow and tolerate Keith’s whims. Therefore, panniers re-packed and tents folded away, we set off.

The summer heat wasn’t to last for long. We made it to the Austrian border only to be caught in torrential rain. The nearest lay-by was spotted and like a pit stop, one after each other, we all leaned right then left, stopped and quickly dismounted. Undoing panniers and searching for the waterproofs, in a time any pit-stop crew would be proud of we were soon looking like the Michelin men from the old TV tyre adverts. To say it challenged all of us in different way’s could be an under statement. I had a ¾ part warn front tyre and with the sat nav covered in plastic bags becoming more difficult to read, we were on the road again. An accident half way up the mountain had halted the traffic which led to a 2km tailback. Not such a problem for five men on bikes; we gingerly overtook, looking for sufficient gaps in the on-coming traffic, the stagnant trail of cars, motor-homes and lorries, eventually reaching the front of the queue. Steam coming from the engines between our legs and the smell of exhaust fumes, that overtaking surely saved a bit of time. Looking around at the other drowned rats I pulled off my gloves and rung them out, water poured like wringing out an old dish cloth. Two cars had bumped each other head on, not fatal but none the less had still caused the road to be shut to aid the recovery of the broken mis-shaped vehicles. I looked at my watch, it was somewhere around dinner time. We’re off again, eating up the tarmac.

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Within an hour a restaurant loomed on the right. As before, indicators flashed and we all leaned right pulled into the car park and parked next to each other. All, in-line. Helmets came off; faces showing our own individual experience of the mountain, some smiling, some tired, I was still happy and smiling a little bit like a school boy with a new bike for Christmas. I didn’t care it was an adventure. Still concerned that the front tyre may slip away I said “if this rain continues I’m getting a new tyre fitted”.

“Just take it easy”. Mel ...

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