Scotland Trip, April 2010

Scotland trip with Al and Gaz. 1,650 miles door to door. Furthest point Durness. Al has a puncture in the middle of nowhere, 70 miles from John O' Groats. Scotland in the sunshine is better than biking anywhere in the world. Keyword 'sunshine' ;)

Scotland April 2010 from Chris Ford on Vimeo.

Strata Florida, NRG Easter weekend

The Fords arrived at Midday on Good Friday, around the same time as Mark and Tim. Before we’d even switched the engine off it was time for our first recovery. The couple next door had managed to get their Astra stuck and had made a right mess of the grass. They were a bit incapable so the lady in the next pitch backed up her Discovery and we used my recovery strap on the stranded Astra which I drove out backwards.

It was raining very heavily so we decided to pitch our tent on the gravel hardstanding as it looked much drier than any of the surrounding grass. Until we opened the tent bag and I realised I’d left the rock pegs at home and only had really flimsy ones that would not be driven into the gravel. Plan B was to pitch on the grass instead, which the pegs went straight in using only fingers to push them in! Luckily our super duper tent has a very good groundsheet to keep the water out and a foil backed carpet to keep the heat in. It did, however, feel like walking on a water bed inside the tent the ground was that sodden.

Tent pitched and gear stowed we joined Mark and Tim to drive to the first lane to meet Mike, Wayne and Jose and family. By this time it had stopped raining. Not sure exactly where we started but we ended up at the Elan valley, which is one of my favourite places; beautiful Victorian engineering amid a desolate Welsh landscape. Awesome scenery.

We pulled over in front of the last dam for a chat, a loo break and for Wayne to change his fuel filter. Jose’s great dane puppy, with feet the size of saucers, received a lot of attention. As the break extended, and as we had beds to blow up and make for the night the Fords made their excuses and left. Chores done, the caravaners were returning to the camp site as we were leaving for the pub. Very nice real ale it did, too.

Saturday saw some gentle early lanes. Vanessa even drove for a bit both on and off road. She quite liked the easy off road stuff, but hated the handling of the Surf on the road. After lunch (I think) we were on one of those necessary evils, the long bit of road between lanes, and I was following Jose. The roads were mainly dry, but there were big puddles here and there. We’d just passed a railway station in the middle of nowhere, it was named after the road it was on not a place, and Jose drove through a puddle that threw up some water. A little further on it became obvious that the liquids still dropping from Jose’s Discovery could not still be water from the puddle so I called him on the cb radio and we pulled over. The liquid was a red oil, so transmission or steering fluid, and was still coming out so weekend over for Jose and family. With no phone signal, and a recovery place a few miles down the road that we’d passed earlier, Mike drove Jose there to arrange recovery.

Mike and Jose returned with the recovery arranged, so we said our goodbyes and headed off to the next lane. After a few strange gate configurations we came to a lane that looked like it hadn’t been driven fully for a while. A short decent, it then crossed a stream and climbed up the other side when the tracks stopped. Mark was in front and made the first attempt and got as far as the tracks did before all four wheels started spinning. With a few hundred kilo’s of additional bodies hanging off the back and giving a helpful push, Mark made it to the top. My turn next. Unfortunately there were no comedy moments for the Surf made it to the top without spinning a wheel. So did Tim in his G-Wagen. Wayne made sure he didn’t get stuck either.

A little further on the same lane got very tight through the trees and then we came to another stream crossing, this time on a tight 90 degree bend around the foot of a hill, and the stream falling off 6 feet below. It took some helpful sighting from Mike and Mark to ensure we got round safely, and I followed Mike’s word to boot it when he said. I’m not sure that Mike expected the back to step out and nearly pitch him off the hill into the stream though!

Saturday’s last lane was the highlight of the trip, the Strata Florida. Strata Florida Abbey is a former Cistercian abbey situated just outside Pontrhydfendigaid, near Tregaron in the county of Ceredigion, Wales. The abbey was originally founded in 1164. The name Strata Florida is a corruption of the Welsh Ystrad Fflur, meaning Valley of (the river of) Flowers. The ruins of this Abbey marks the start of one of the most well known and scenic green lanes in Britain.

We’ve driven this lane before as a family, and Alex and I also camped on it overnight with a load of other Surf owners. That time it rained heavily all night and one of the crossings at the Llandovery end were over 5 feet deep so we had to turn back. This Easter weekend perfect though. The recent rains meant the nine river crossings were interesting, but passable, and we threaded our way parallel to the timber road into the nothingness of the Cambrian mountains. We stopped for a brew and some of the younger members had a snowball fight.

We made it back to the campsite; the caravaners to their ready meals and the tenters to the pub again. Did I mention the real ale?

We decided to call it a day and pack up Sunday morning rather than try and rush in some last minute lanes. Good job really as we developed a nasty, but brief, shaky noise on the drive back which developed into a louder and more prolonged noise when we reached the motorway. The recovery guy couldn’t diagnose the exact problem so we also got taken home on the back of a truck. Still don’t know what it is, but suspected UJ or similar issue on the front axle.