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THE PEAKS 2014
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TOPIC: THE PEAKS 2014

THE PEAKS 2014 6 years ago #9421

OK I know it's taken long enough, so I hope that you enjoy it and that it's been worth the wait.


GB Tours.

Sitting here writing this, I can't help but notice the stark contrast to this time a week or so ago.
Looking out of the window, the skies are as grey as an old MOD bed blanket, doing their best to stifle the sunlight; while in the background the clock’s pendulum slowly swings back and forth, marking every minute that has either passed or, depending on how you view things, hitting home how long to go before we can do it again.

Before I go further, I must warn you that because of the nature of the rides the enclosed photos aren’t action dominated, but despite that, I hope that they will capture the spirit and comradeship of an excellent meeting; so without further ado….


After what seemed to be a torturous daily countdown, Friday 12th finally came around.
Initially I wasn’t planning to meet Paul and GB at the Guyhirn services, as the last time that I’d met anyone there, it ended up in me stacking my previous Ducati within a mile or two from the RV; [ one minute I was up and the next down at 60mph watching my beautiful bike destruct across two carriageways] to cut a long story short I’ve had the superstition gremlin sitting on my shoulder ever since, and while travelling that route ,even when I’m in a car; I get the feeling of doom and foreboding, so as an aside of sorts, try to remember this as the spectre of Guyhirn.
Even without the above I was also feeling a little nervous because I hadn't ridden in months, save for picking up the new bike; so on a spur of the moment I decided to try and put aside my demons and go for it.
The omens looked good, and with beautiful warm sunshine, Ben and I headed out onto the A47 towards the services.
With the morning traffic despatched we were soon at the RV, where we met Paul and then GB.


Paul (Outsider) and Ben, with my new bike in the foreground at the services.



GB had chosen a route which picked it’s way across Rutland (not technically a county anymore) Leicestershire, Lincolnshire, Nottinghamshire, and eventually Derbyshire, thus avoiding the Motorways and main trunk roads.
Pleasant enough with some beautiful scenery, one village turned into another as we rolled on across the idyllic heartlands of middle England.
One thing I did find quite striking was the amount of 20mph speed restrictions that seemed to have popped up all over the place, but these minor imperfections couldn't spoil the fact that I was riding with my son and mates on my way over to meet even more mates for a promising weekend of fun riding, and fookingabout.
Some of the route brought back some memories of long since gone bikes and rides, for example parts of the Melton TT; where out by Rutland water etc you have fast flowing winding roads, other parts brought back memories of a young Ben nearly being lost off of the back of one of my bikes, all of which seemed so long ago but in an instant like they had happened yesterday.
In the same vein it’s said that our sense of smell can trigger deep seated memories, and while that may be true (two stroke or Castrol R anyone?) , for me at least the sound of four twins [latterly to be five] riding together will forever evoke memories of these wonderful days.
From the flat bass notes of the GS’s to the sound of the Duke on the overrun ,all together mixing and combining to make an orchestra of mechanical music reverberating off of the walls and buildings as we rode by.



Riding the roads from the flats of East Anglia towards the peaks you become aware that they have a sort of signature, to which they become more winding, and with gradients getting ever steeper and high banks to either side you are transformed into another world, let alone other counties.
I suppose it all becomes more magnified, where, shall we say hills become mountains, (well they do in the telling of a good trail story, don't they Mr Pick?)

The four of us arrived at camp by mid afternoon, and found it largely empty save for one or two fellow campers milling around.
Dan, Tom, and Ferdie who had arrived a couple of days before us were out playing on their bikes, so we started to unpack the bikes and erect our tents AKA home for the next couple of nights.
The first thing that was apparent was that my side stand puck had been left behind, how I managed to forget it I don’t know, so after rebuking myself for my stupidity Ben found a half tile to tide me over.
As you know after a few hours riding there isn't much to top a nice cup of tea, so Ben went off to fill the kettle while I encountered …… the spectre of Guyhirn! (a pity that this couldn't be accompanied by the sound effects of thunder and lightening)

I pulled out the fuel, I pulled out the fuel bottle- primer, but even Paul Daniels couldn't do his magic and pull out the burner as it too was back in the Garage at home, evidentially keeping the puck company, which is strange really as I never had those two down as friends.
Now as you know I'm not one who normally uses expletives, well not compared to someone with chronic Tourettes syndrome, but the air was pretty blue by the time that I'd sworn at myself.

Meanwhile we noticed that we had some new neighbours moving in next door, a group of Yam Yams. No, not Yamaha riders ,although one did have a Fazer; these boys and girls were from a Birmingham club, calling themselves Roadrunners MC and were riding a diverse group of bikes from Harley’s to Triumph Adventures, which perhaps was the first clue as to this camp sites popularity?
I must admit that I thought that they would be partying into the wee small hours every night, but in reality they were in bed before us.

Right then tents up, lets go for a ride into town for a spot of lunch and a new stove.
We rode into Bakewell, which although I didn't express it at the time, I must admit was a total disappointment.
Call me stupid, but I’d heard of Bakewell tarts, and to be honest I was expecting to see hoards of beautiful mini skirted ladies vying for our company; instead the tarts not only turned out to be confections, but they weren't even tarts they were puddings! Epic fail.

On the stove front Paul recommended a Vango micro gas stove with reusable gas cartridge and I must say that I'm very impressed with his choice, it boils water at least as fast, if not faster than my petrol one, it’s no size at all and the gas lasted us all weekend despite Bens penchant for tea every 5 minutes, and at £15 + about £2.50 for a gas cartridge it turned out to be a proper result, and worth every penny.

From Bakewell we rode to Matlock Bath, famous in biking circles for the amount of motorcyclists that it attracts, well it seems they aren’t that attracted if the day starts with an F, because it was pretty empty save for one or two bikes and us of course.
We pulled in at the top car park for a quick break, Paul Ben and I were chatting away, and it looked like GB was talking to a couple of fellow bikers on the other side.
We strolled over when one of them started to put on his helmet etc, and it was then that it struck me that GB was still recovering from his accident.
His face told the story of thousands of words, being quite pale and drawn, the pain from what was the longest ride that he had completed since before his accident had started to take it’s toll.
Just how much pain he was in only he can tell you, and in his usual manner understated, but to be fair I raise my hat, or should that be helmet to him for braving it out.


Lesser forums talk about bike genres not mixing? Our bikes, the two Dukes and Pauls GSA in the foreground, alongside a pair of bikes belong to two lads who also happened to be at the same place KTM, and Bandit.

On the way back to camp we took an interesting route, which saw us rising through an ever tightening village which made the road in the old Hovis advert look like a Billiard table, steep narrow and a dead end.
Upon hearing our arrival some locals came out to point out the error of our ways, and to tell us that there was a sign at the bottom telling people to ignore their sat navs, obviously this was all too late, so after a 20 point turn we started to make our way back down but I overshot the turning that we were to take and Ben followed; no biggy just turn around again, but then …….. the spectre of Guyhirn (insert your own sound effects) struck Ben.
To explain, number one son had (I’m using the past tense as I hope that a lesson was learnt) the habit of turning his bikes around by using his side stand to pivot both wheels clear of the ground and rotating the bike using the stand as an axis; all was going well until BANG I heard the stand go and looked over to see the broken part on the ground with Ben half under it saving the bike from crashing to the floor.
I really did think that it was his weekend over as I saw fluid beneath the bike, fearing that he had torn part of the crankcase away with the stand from which it was once attached, but thankfully the fluid turned out to be a drop of fuel, and not the dreaded oil that I thought it was.
So after stowing the broken parts we headed back to camp, guided through the villages nooks and crannies by some young children, who ran ahead and pointed out the route to the main road.
Upon arrival we were greeted by Dan, Tom and Ferdie, our group was now complete and with his side stand recently departed Ben found a handy tree in which to stand his bike against, there was however one plus to his shenanigans, which was that I got to use his now redundant puck for the rest of the weekend.
After a while a couple of the Roadrunner ladies came over to photograph the “Duke up the tree” thus the Photo Whore comment elsewhere in the Peaks thread.


Tom's new anniversary GS with Dans recently repaired Pegasso in the background.


The whore touting for business.

THE SITE

Every cloud has a silver lining, and as you know this site wasn’t the first choice, but we sure landed on our feet with knobs on when GB turned this place turned up.
Not only was there a Pub on site which served very nice beer and food , the latrine facilities were clean and well stocked, and the real bonus was that we could have the most basic of things to satisfy our collective caveman instincts, a jolly good fire.
As the evenings drew in giving way to the night skies the warmth and glow of a good camp fire is guaranteed to relax all of those seated around it, there is something primitive and hypnotic about the flames dancing provocatively while rising up to kiss the darkness; not only does it relax the mind and body, but it seems to relax the flow of conversation, which was pretty diverse , from the obvious bond of bikes to music and even an in depth psychiatric session ; to which I’m convinced that at least one person who reads this report will think that I probably don't eat regular meals!
It was all just great fun with a fantastic ambience and only made possible by what is a great and decent set of people.
One thing is an absolute certainty, I wouldn't hesitate it recommending the site to anyone that should enquire.


Cryptic clue... 3-6-5... discussing the merits of consuming food to a strict timetable.


Light warmth and atmosphere, what else is there to satisfy our needs, plus as Ferdie found out, it also boils water pretty damned good too.


Morning, and the camp arose to the sights of distant patchwork hills, with the early sunlight illuminating the dry stone walls framing the fields, which along with distant flocks of sheep, was almost like a living impressionist painting of a rural scene.
From our vantage, we could see low cloud or mist rolling lazily across the hills and valleys, creating a moving and moody contrast of shadow to the sunlit areas, then as quickly as it had materialised it disappeared, leaving the picture once again bathed in beautiful light.
Sitting there with a cup of coffee, leaving behind home and work , chatting and observing the surroundings it seemed so natural and totally relaxing, it was one of those rare times when one wishes that the moments could be frozen in time and captured forever.
If I was forced to try and sum it up in a single word I’d say blissful, as everything was so right with the world.

It was almost a shame to spoil the tranquillity by firing up the bikes, but we had come to ride some of the UK’s best and some might say infamous roads, so with our riding gear ready off we set.


Before we set off Tom, Paul, and Dan having a chat.....


...While Ben is ready for the forthcoming day ahead.


Ferdies DRZ and my ST, ready for the trails and roads.


GB Tours gets underway, with the man himself up front.


Followed by Paul, NB:- somehow an imposter (Ferdie) managed to momentarily infiltrate our group!


Next was a Tom.... No not our Tom, but a Tom as in whore!


Then it was myself.


And finally Tom, who was our TEC for the ride.

I think that it’s fair to say that we were both surprised and enthralled in equal measures.
Surprised by the sheer volume of traffic which for an ordinary weekend I.E. outside of the holiday season, seemed extraordinarily heavy; however when we could get a move on and into a flowing rhythm it was heavenly.
The roads meander through the peaks, through picture perfect villages who’s likeness wouldn’t look out of place on the lid of a biscuit tin, then flowing up and down like a rollercoaster on a tarmac ribbon.
Cutting it’s way through the high sided hills of slate, one could be easily distracted by the scenery; whether it was man made, or natural it was absolutely stunning, and all the while you are aware that these roads have a reputation for biting hard at the unwary.
Downhill into sharp corners and hairpins, and when I say downhill it’s 1:8 - 1:10 territory, with severe penalties for getting it wrong in the form of long drops off the side into the rocks below.
Sometimes the bends would open, then tighten, and sometimes they would just flow, flip flopping from right to left to right and so on .
If you could imagine near perfect riding roads these would be right up there with the best, it’s no wonder that apparently the peaks are the worlds second most visited national park, next to Mount Fuji.


The first stop, and although sat nav technology is good, there is something that feels even better when you have a paper map in your hands.


The new Highways Agency emergency side stand in action.


I'd bet good money on the topic of conversation in this photo... Bends!

Meanwhile on the trails with Dan and Ferdie.

Listening to the descriptions of the trails was one thing, and to be fair the sheer enthusiasm in their recounting of their days adventure painted a pretty good picture; however it wasn't until Dan forwarded the following pictures, plus of course the ones that Ferdie has already posted on the forum that I realised just how good the trails were.
Jealous Moi!
While writing and uploading, my minds eye has me right there with them experiencing the challenges and sheer beauty of the surroundings.
From climbs and rock gardens to dry stone walls, those trails had it all in abundance.
Anyway enough from me, lets have a look at what they got up to.


What a picture, this one just does it for me the only thing missing is a red XR!


The above photograph looks serene and dare I say it quite easy, but this is what greeted them around the corner.


A rock garden; with I'm reliably informed, football sized rocks in places.
It's no wonder the Pegasso had a rest.


Climbing up through open moorland, you lucky bast$&d's!


This is just stunning, the more I see the more I'm convinced that I'd definitely need at least a week and two bikes in which to sample these treasures for myself.


Did I say a week? make that 2, 3 or even 4 weeks, God I'm going to puke with jealousy.


And it just gets better, just look at those hills and walls.


I don't know if you are religious or not, but from open landscapes, to tree lined trails I'm convinced that there is a God, and that he rode motorbikes.


If so far these haven't got your juices flowing, check your pulse and call a doctor!
Here's Ferdie having a blast [in both meanings of the word].


Onwards and upwards skywards!


What's afoot and I don't mean 12 inches?


Oh dear, and what a place for it to happen, lets hope that they got it fixed as it would be an awful push back to civilization.


Newtons law; what goes up must come down, and what a fabulous way of getting down eh?


Steep, with a good camber and some rocks thrown in to make sure that you are concentrating.

I don't know about you, but I feel like I've experienced every nudge on the handlebars,and every twitch of the rear wheel with our intrepid adventurers.
After looking at those scenes I've got to get me some of that; perhaps a Part Deux anyone?

Right then back to the tour

We rode to the Holme Moss Summit, which at 1719 feet above sea level had my ears popping , and back down where we also rode the Snake Pass, amongst other fabulous routes.


I think that this one speaks for itself.


Where to next? GB sorting out the next part of the route.


Tom stands proudly beside his beautiful GS.


While the tourmeister sits astride his.


OK I couldn't resist, here's one of me standing beside my bike.


The scenery up there was beautiful, however that wasn't the only thing going on....
Watching you.


Watching me.


Watching you.


On the Snake Pass, GB, Paul and Ben were able to get a half decent ride out of it, however Tom and myself were hemmed in by traffic, a bummer but what can you do?
To be fair I was pleased that Ben got to ride it unhindered as it was his first time riding on one of England’s legendary roads, when I caught up with him his face was just a huge grin, so I think that he enjoyed it.


Absolutely fantastic roads, winding their way up and down in seemingly endless stretches, with the next bend being better than the last.


Observe the Norman era armco, absolutely useless at protecting the traffic but great for making spears from.

An often used phrase is time flies when you’re having fun, but never has something been more true than on this ride.
It only seemed like 5 minutes since we’d stopped for lunch (or lunches for a certain member of the party) so GB set a course for camp.
A while later the rolling landscape gave way to a slightly familiar urban / cityscape, to which I asked Tom to confirm our location; Sheffield came his reply, Oh joy.
Well at least we could add South Yorkshire to the list of counties that we’d travelled through over the weekend, so everything was going alright until we hit a junction controlled with traffic lights.
GB, Paul, and Ben went through, and then…. the spectre of Guyhirn came and bit me square on the arse.
I stopped for fear of leaving Tom behind, and then I was suddenly aware that my left side pannier had overtaken me and was tumbling down the road,
As it transpired I had just become the victim of a GS Blitzkrieg attack, where Reichsmarschall Tom decided to invade my sovereign territory by hitting me up the rear.
Tom thought that I was going to try and stay with the others, but as said I was determined not to leave him behind and we had some gay bike action.
We recovered the pannier to the other side and tried to refit it, but it was apparent that the pannier frame was bent out of shape, and the lock was broken into three pieces, luckily GB happened to have a luggage strap, so the pannier was strapped to the bike, which incidentally not only lasted for the run back to camp, but also loaded for the run home the following day, so not a bad temporary repair.
On reflection save for some scratches to the paint work and the lock I think that we got away lightly; nobody hurt except of course the feeling of being violated up the rear and forced to wear a strap on for the rest of the weekend!

Soon after we were on the outskirts of Sheffield when we hit a road, well you’d call it a road if you happened to be in a caterpillar tracked vehicle, other than that I think a hard enduro course would be a better description, don’t get me wrong it might have been enjoyable had I been aboard the XR400 but on a road bike with a strapped on pannier.. Nooooo.
I wasn’t alone in my thoughts about that particular stretch, which was more Gelande than Strasse, as everyone passed comment.
I had visions of this lasting for miles, but to my relief we were soon clear and then the ride just got better.

With time getting on there was now little or no traffic to hold us up, and with miles of twisty roads unfolding ahead of us we really got into a good rhythm, from a riders perspective watching bikes peeling into corners in a choreographed ballet of man and machine is one of the nicest sights in motorcycling, if I had one regret it would be that I didn’t get in front to get a vantage point in which to grab some photographs of the guys rounding some of the fantastic bends, but we kept to a disciplined riding order which kept us flowing and enjoying the ride, so not all bad.
As the final twisties came and went I had mixed emotions, happy that we’d just had a great day out on some great roads with great people, and sad that it’ll be a while before it happens again.

Back at camp, we exchanged stories with Dan and Ferdie, who had enjoyed what sounded like a fabulous time on the peaks byways, if only we had longer, and a garage of bikes from which to choose the weapon of choice for the days riding, ummm perhaps I’ve got the perfect solution, a C90!

Another evening slipped by around a roaring campfire, with a beer or two consumed and conversation flowing , the time ebbed away until it was time to get our heads down.
That night in my bed, while in that hazy time between being awake and asleep, I couldn’t help but hear the words of Chris Yates (a piscatorial writer) echoing in my head; Being there.
What he meant was that there isn’t just one thing that makes these experiences complete or memorable, it’s the sum of many different aspects, and of course being there to reflect on them.
So away I slipped into another nights perfect slumber.

The final morning dawned, and all of us started to pack up our kit except Dan and Tom who had decided to stay on for another days riding and camping.
We were all pretty much ready, when….. for one last time, the spectre of Guyhirn decided to raise it’s head .
Ferdie had the DRZ packed up when Ben noticed that the back of his bike was moving around in a way that it shouldn’t.
Closer inspection revealed that the bikes subframe was hanging in by a couple of bolts.
We guessed that the main bolts had shaken loose and were lost on the trails, but one thing is for sure it was lucky that it was spotted before we left and not through a collapse onto the rear wheel at 60+ mph.


Not much holding the DRZ together, save for lots of luck and fresh air.


Look sad for the camera Ferdie, I don't need to I am F%$kin sad!


GB went off to try and find a bolt long enough to fit through the frame, while my cunning plan was to use a tent spike.
GB returned with a bolt that just about fitted with a couple of threads to hold it on at either end.
With the bike fixed, and repacked, Ferdie Paul, and GB set off , followed soon after by Ben and myself.


GB leading the homeward bound group.


Followed by a now smiling Ferdie.


And last but not least in their group, Paul.


Soon after they had left it was sadly Ben and my turn to leave.


As Ben rides by, the last photograph of the camp.

On the way back we filled up at the Texaco garage outside of Matlock, and to Bens surprise I took a slight detour to the road that rises to the side of Sainsbury’s.
Ben had mentioned on Friday that he wanted to get a picture 4 years on from the first time that he and I had visited Matlock together; but time had conspired against us; how he remembered the date is a mystery as he was only about a month out.
So we pulled over into the old quarry entrance for the snaps.


This should be titled the evolution of a whore, Ben's bike has gone from 600 to 750, + different wheels exhaust etc, whereas mine seems to have changed brands.


We were only there a short time when Dan and Tom rolled down on their way out for a ride and stopped to see if we were OK, everything explained we parted company and headed out of town.


Dan and Tom having stopped to see if we were OK.


And finally Reichsmarschall Tom.

Matlock certainly had a change of complexion from the emptiness that greeted us on Friday, more akin to Ramsey on the Isle of Man, with bike after bike lined up along every inch of available space, riders both milling around, or sitting on the ground on the opposite side of the road enjoying what was a beautiful afternoon, or just bikes being ridden through town, it really gets the biking juices flowing.
For the ride home I chose a route that let us both open up the bikes, and enjoy some final flowing twisties.
Down towards Derby to pick up the M1 south, then over the A6 towards Loughborough, Stow on the Wolds, and Melton Mowbray, where I took us north on the roads out to Grantham, then it was onto the A1 south where we picked up the A47 towards home.
Paul, GB, and Ferdie all arrived home without incident, with Ferdies bike holding up to the makeshift repairs.
Would I like to do it again? Hell yeh, with one proviso… more time in which to enjoy it.
So that’s it and at the risk of sounding like Polly Parrot, thank you to all for a great weekend only made great by having great company.

One last thing, thank you to GB for the GB tour of GB?
Plus thanks also to Dan, Ben, and GB for your photo contributions for inclusion, and a final thank yous also to Ferdie for picking up the wood for the fire, and of course Paul and Tom, for your great company.


Can’t wait until the next time, it was awesome.

TP.
THE END OF THE ROAD IS THE START OF THE FUN
Last Edit: 5 years, 12 months ago by Trevor Pastrami.
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THE PEAKS 2014 6 years ago #9422

  • Twintec
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You've excelled yourself this time TP, it was definitely worth the wait.

Looking very much forward to when the photos work!

Things have been a bit hectic and stressful since that weekend and it's great to be able to relive a fantastic trip.
If you only have one plug, it needs to be a good plug!
July 14 - still true, but now have two plugs!
The following user(s) said Thank You: Trevor Pastrami, Ben600

THE PEAKS 2014 6 years ago #9423

  • Ben600
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Fantastic write up TP already looking forward to the next one!
Thanks for taking the time to help us all relive it!
We’re not here for a long time, we’re here for a good time.

My Mum is running the Peterborough 5k Race for life for forum member Trevor Pastrami (Dad) Donate Here>>> www.justgiving.com/dottyhagerty <<<
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THE PEAKS 2014 6 years ago #9424

  • GB
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Nice one TP.
Rather be loud than lazy......
The following user(s) said Thank You: Trevor Pastrami

THE PEAKS 2014 6 years ago #9425

  • Outsider
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Excellent write up TP, thank you.


- Outsider (via Tapatalk)
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THE PEAKS 2014 6 years ago #9426

  • ferdie
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Very well done, ghoul stories and all.

Best moto camp yet boys!!!

Bike has been all fixed up today. Just need to service it now.

Can't wait for the next one.
Sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust, and when you're up, it's never as good as it seems, and when you're down, you never think you're gonna be up again. But life goes on.
Last Edit: 6 years ago by ferdie.
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THE PEAKS 2014 6 years ago #9431

  • Ben600
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Keep reading this back.. I wanna go again!
Good ride on the B660 yesterday, but nowt like some of the roads we hit
We’re not here for a long time, we’re here for a good time.

My Mum is running the Peterborough 5k Race for life for forum member Trevor Pastrami (Dad) Donate Here>>> www.justgiving.com/dottyhagerty <<<
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Re: THE PEAKS 2014 5 years, 12 months ago #9483

You kept that quiet.
THE END OF THE ROAD IS THE START OF THE FUN

Re: THE PEAKS 2014 5 years, 12 months ago #9485

Fantastic report and pictures TP, they get better every time. Thanks for the time and effort, you surely are a wasted talent!
ATB
H.M.
Last Edit: 5 years, 12 months ago by Howlingmoon.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Trevor Pastrami

Re: THE PEAKS 2014 5 years, 12 months ago #9487

Thank you for your comments everyone.
I know this might sound daft, but they really do make all the difference.

TP
THE END OF THE ROAD IS THE START OF THE FUN

Re: THE PEAKS 2014 5 years, 11 months ago #9505

  • DanH
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Absolutely fantastic I waited till the pics were up before reading and it was well worth the wait. Thank you.
Take the Byway not the Highway
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Re: THE PEAKS 2014 5 years, 11 months ago #9507

Thanks Dan.
I hope that I did your pictures justice, as all I could do was commentate on the fantastic scenery / trails.

Thanks,

TP.
THE END OF THE ROAD IS THE START OF THE FUN

Re: THE PEAKS 2014 5 years, 11 months ago #9508

  • ferdie
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loved the extra write up. TOPS!!
Can't wait to go again.
Sometimes you're flush and sometimes you're bust, and when you're up, it's never as good as it seems, and when you're down, you never think you're gonna be up again. But life goes on.
The following user(s) said Thank You: Trevor Pastrami

Re: THE PEAKS 2014 5 years, 11 months ago #9509

Funnily enough I was saying exactly that on Sunday, but the next time with a van inc a few spares, tools, etc and a bit more time.
THE END OF THE ROAD IS THE START OF THE FUN

Re: THE PEAKS 2014 5 years, 11 months ago #9510

  • steveR
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Very late, but a really good and entertaining RR there young Sir!
Steve
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