Lucky Bastards Motorcycle Tour: Mugello-Isle of Man TT-Silverstone

The lucky bastard’s motorcycle tour is the trip of a lifetime. Motorcycles, adventure, camping, racing, all squeezed into 3 crazy weeks.

Road trip of a life time, racing and road adventure of the summer, lucky bastards’ motorcycle tour, call it what you will. It was all of the fore mentioned names plus many more but if I was to break it down, then really the mission was 3 big motorcycle events over 3 weekends in 3 different countries, all while covering thousands of miles on a sweet sportbike.

The whole exercise was designed to pack in as many cool motorcycle things as possible, meet up with friends, ride awesome roads, camp out, eat and drink with passion and sleep when it was over.

As I sat down and planned out the trip and scanned over the European race calendar, it was an absolute delight to see the words Mugello, Isle of Man and Silverstone crop up. If you know anything about motorcycle racing you’ll know already that I’ve said three magical names. If you don’t know what the hell I’m on about, then let me explain and take you on a magical adventure that has left me with memories and inspiration for a life time.

The Italian motorcycle Grand Prix is held in Mugello, Italy and is tucked away deep in the Tuscany countryside. The best rider’s race fiercely on one of the worlds most naturally created and flowing race circuits ever made, while the fans bask in glorious sunshine, rev their bikes and party hard all weekend long on the hillsides surrounding the track.

Few words can explain the Isle of Man TT but let’s try. Amazing, astonishing, fast, frightening and breath-taking can possibly describe. Factory Moto GP racer, Italian Loris Capirossi went over to this years race for the first time and said to me after “This race is absolutely incredible and the riders are like errrmm, really totally crazy you know!” It’s an event that fuels everything motorcycles and motorcyclist should be, happens once a year and goes on for two weeks.

Silverstone is the home of British motorsport and is one of the most famous and historic race tracks in the world. It was making its return to world Moto GP calendar with a new track lay out after a 24 year absence. Brit’s love their motorcycles and I wasn’t going to miss my home Grand Prix for anything.

It might sounds like a trip that is going to take mass planning and loads of money but oh no. I don’t work like that; I’m a Yorkshireman (If you are from the UK that means tight bastard) so spending lots doesn’t come easy and I can’t plan much ahead of myself, plus thinking and worrying about tomorrow just makes today much less interesting.

For my trips I like to have a rough but solid plan and then let the rest just fall together as you progress towards each destination. So I called a few mates and my buddy Alex would ride with me from London to Mugello and back then I’d meet up with another friend Seth who I’d meet up with in Yorkshire and ride to the Isle of Man TT with, now my plan was to get the cheapest possible seat to Europe, borrow a bike and the destinations were definitely Mugello, Isle of Man and Silverstone. Oh man, this was going to be epic!

More below

Getting on the road to Italy

After a few calls to my contacts back in the UK, I struck a deal with Yamaha UK who had a 2009 R6 press bike sat there like gleaming new doing nothing for 3 weeks, perfect, I jumped at the chance to ride it, better still I was teaming up with my good friend Alex and he’d just bought a 2007 CBR600RR so it was now a pair of middle weight sportbikes ripping to Italy.

To get to Mugello in time for the GP we had to ride from London England in around 48hours. A black cloud followed us from Brooklands to Dover into the Channel Tunnel and out the other side into northern France. Soaking wet and cold we called it a night around 10pm and found cheap digs and a place to dry out. The next day we rode far and fast, through the French countryside of Haut-Jura Regional Nature Park and over into Switzerland. Then we rode Lac Lemon, towards and then over the alps into Italy, finally ending at Lake Maggiore. It was amazing; an incredible day had just unloaded that would struggle to be topped. 24 hours ago we were both miserable and wet, now having ridden almost 1,000Km we were elated and this trip had come alive.

Another long day of action riding, calling in to see my buddy Nicola from Spidi (at lunch time and we ate like kings) followed by a trip to Romeo and Juliet’s balcony in Verona, we finally got to Mugello after riding the infamous and challenging Futa Pass in the rain and at night. The constant lefts and rights that went on intensely for over an hour meant our wrists were done in; however we had no problems in lifting the large pizzas and beer as we enjoyed our arrival feast. Moto GP was here, you could smell the excitement and we’d made it just in time to experience it all.

Mugello

Now at Mugello it was time to collect my Media pass and get stuck in with everything the Italian Moto GP had to offer. I went trackside and using my big heavy pro camera for the first time tried to capture the on-track action. Fans swarmed the hillside around the circuit, a party atmosphere was here.

This all came to a premature halt on Saturday morning when world champion and Italian hero Valentino Rossi crashed and badly broke his leg. No Rossi, no party and the grid lock was now from fans leaving the track instead of coming to it.

Order was installed later the same day when stunned fans absorbed the news that Vale was out for the race and probably most of the season and in true Italian fashion celebrated his absence instead. The racing still went on and so did the party.

Alex and I stayed out every night as the main beer tent played music so loud until 7am that it could be heard 4 miles away. Scantily clad women danced on stage while more and more beer guzzling fans danced on table and benches with their tops off. It was quite a sight and despite the Euro trash music being blasted out of the speakers, a fun night was had by all.

Engine’s revved hard, fans go crazy for burnouts, high revving engines, anything that makes noise actually. They love you more the crazier you get. Finally calling it quits around 2:30/3am, we headed back to our tents and hopefully grab a bit of rest. Ear plugs in and I was out like a light and as I opened my eyes at 5am I instantly woke to a horrible feeling. My tent door was open, my jacket, jeans and wallet were all outside on the grass and we been robbed, Alex as well.

They took all my cash (around $200, £250 and 250 Euros), my camcorder, 3 pairs of clean under pants and my toothbrush. Alex lost his cash (similar amount), his iPhone, 2 T-Shirts and his toothpaste, leaving us with a bad taste in our mouths in more ways than one.

As bad as it was, it could have been a whole load worse as I still had the R6, my credit cards were still in my wallet and my passport was still in my jacket. We were in beautiful Italy and even though it was a minor set-back, it wasn’t going to ruin our trip and Alpinestars heard of our plight and embarrassed that their fellow Italian’s had done such a thing, sponsored Alex and I with clothing and hospitality. It was worth getting robbed, the clothing is top notch and the food was out of this world.

Race day was frantic, fans seemed to stack on top of one another to get a better vantage spot, the beer tent music stopped at 7am but the beat from chanting the fans replace it and soon the racetrack was alive with partisan fans.

Moto GP provided a colourful day of bikes and passionate motorcycle enthusiast who at the end of the races provided the infamous track invasion, it had been quite a day finished off amazingly as we left the miles and miles of traffic leaving the circuit to hit the Futa Pass once again, this time in the daylight.

Ducati

Next destination was Bologna as we’d been invited by JP from Ducati US to have a grand tour around the museum, factory floor and secret room. Monday morning was brilliant, seeing the history of Ducati and all of their motorcycling achievements and original machines was just mind blowingly magnificent. We weren’t allowed to take our camera’s into the factory but we did see how the Ducati motorcycles are assembled. Before the tour I always knew that Ducati’s were different. After and seeing first hand a certain individual take parts and build one complete working engine and another then take it and build the rest of the machine, I can honestly tell you that these machines are lovingly put together, especially by the sexy female engine builder that left many of us wanting to ride her motor. One person working on the motor means if a machine has a problem they can track its builder and discover who’s to blame. Errors are few but beautiful motorcycles are made every time.

After Ducati’s factory floor tour, one of JP’s Italian friends took us deep into the factory and to his secret room where his stored all the bikes and parts Ducati wanted to keep but didn’t have space for. Bikes, engines, parts scattered the room; I took a sneaky photo just to prove its existence.

www.ducatiusa.com – Dream of owning one

Alpinestars

Asolo is in northern Italy and home to the Alpinestars birthplace and factory. The historic town sits high on the hillside and leaves you wondering if there is a more beautiful place, and yes we ate again at an Italian restaurant and just thinking of the food makes me start to droole.

Inside the factory it was all high tech as machines tested every component of every product relentlessly to make sure quality was ensured prior to production. Deeper inside a skilled Italian woman sewed the final few stitches to my suit while I watched. As the bike was maxed out I decided to wear it from the minute it was ready until I got to the Island. Apart from the suit being stylish, loaded with protective armour it was also super comfortable, so much so that I even slept in it two times.

Alpinestars – www.alpinestars.com

Heading back to England and onto the IOM TT

The next day we went in search of what had been labelled as the world’s best motoring by Top Gear and we weren’t disappointed. Despite the road being closed due to the workman cleaning the road from fallen rocks and due to open at 4pm, we rode it anyway. Taking it easy and slowly waving to those we came across, our quest ended somewhere near the top when the road sweeper blocked our path and threatened to call the Police. We turned back and headed steeply back down, the road clear from debris and as it was closed, it was highly probable that nothing was coming the other way. Fun was had and the brakes on the R6 were red hot and spongy by the end. It might have been closed but we ripped it anyway.

A slight de-tour around only meant faster and better roads were found and as we sadly left Italy and again blasted into Switzerland the roads from Stelvio to Davos were second to none. Even though we been riding for half a day and covered some serious miles, we’d not really gone anywhere apart from round loads of corners. So as soon as we could we hopped on a Highway and rode consistently through full tanks after full tanks of gas until we reached Calais.

Northern France greeted us with the exact same weather as we’d ridden in before. Last time we chose to bail and head to a hotel and dry out, this time we had to ride it all the way to the coast.

Our new wet suits were big black bin liners with three holes punched in. We caught the 1:30am Tunnel from France to England and after what seemed like a blink we freezingly rode to London where my great riding buddy Alex went home to a warm bed and I carried on chipping away at the 355 mile ride north in a hope to make the ferry to the Isle of Man.

After nearly dozing off I stopped to consume caffeine. One can of Red Bull, one Large Espresso and a Red Bull energy shot, a bacon sandwich and a full tank of gas, I was now ready to tackle the M1. The cold air ate into me, I had a few sleepy moments that scared me, the long road ahead with little traffic put you into a daze but I did make it to my folk’s farm in the Yorkshire Dales around 6am and the twisties woke me back up.

I reheated myself with constant cups of Tea and hot shower, charged everything and gave my Mum a big bag of smelly washing. 1 Hour later I was back on the bike, charging into thick raining fog, following a back tail light as it switched every which way. I’d no idea which way the road went, if my new riding buddy Seth rode off the edge of the Yorkshire moors, I’d of just followed him.

Seth and I go way back, from him watching me on a wall as I pulled wheelies on my Supermotard machine, to working on my bikes and holding pit boards at races. He’s a good rider who has only recently got serious about riding his Kawasaki 636 everywhere and as I’m quickly finding out, he’s a pro at riding in foggy, rainy conditions and knows the road like the back of his hand.

Despite making it to the dock with 15mins to go and the ferry door still down, they wouldn’t let us on. I’d ridden for over 25 hours and they wouldn’t let us on, hardly the pinnacle of the trip.

I fell asleep in the smelly waiting room floor and 4 hours later we caught the next snail ferry and regardless of the terribly grouchy old man who strapped our bikes down and tried his best to put me in a bad mood, we were heading to the Mecca of motorcycling and our spirits were high.

In missing the ferry I’d thought we’d also missed Wednesday’s races but bad weather on the island had stopped play and everything was rescheduled for the next day, perfect. We set up our tents in the heart of the racing paddock, I erected a clothes line and the windy weather blew my smalls dry while we headed down the pub to celebrate.

The island was buzzing with motorcycling madness and Seth and I did our level best to be in the thick of the action day and night. The day time was spent peering over walls and hedges in the attempt to get the ultimate shot and blasting from one part of the track to another to see more and more. Evenings were spent drinking with other motorcyclist, talking bikes and stumbling into our tents.

I scared myself on numerous occasions trying to get closer to the action, it’s just absolutely incredible just how fast these riders fly around this treacherous course and amazing to see just how close the public can get to the action. It has to been personally seen to be believed and after you’ve felt the wind of the racers whip by at warp speed, it’ll be something you’ll not forget for a long time.

There are some impressive places to go watch but the bottom of Bagarrow, a flat in 5th downhill bumpy road with a house and a corner at the bottom blew me away. Like a bolt of lightening the bikes flashed from within the trees and then boom, they smacked into the bottom of the hill, scraped everything on the ground and jetted off and out of sight. It’s beyond incredible and many more places around the course will leave you with the same thought but this place was insane.

The masterful Padgett’s team and the rapid and skilful Ian Hutchinson walked away with every TT race win settling a new record of 5 TT wins in a week and into the history books. And my only road closed lap this year was during the eventful parade lap where I took the already well ridden R6 for a bit of Isle of Man action. Riding behind the Marshalls, Jorge Lorenzo and many TT winners at a rather gentle pace allowed plenty of time for waving and wheeling to the fans. I was following two classic motorcycles up the mountain and one guy missed a tight corner and ended up disappearing down a mountain side. I got it all for you to see on my GoPro!!

The Isle of Man was electric, especially for American Mark ‘Thriller’ Miller who won the Electric race riding the American MotoCzysz. The TT is a very special event and you have to experience it at least once. I’ve been going since I was 7 when my Dad took me on the back of his BSA Gold Star and I thought it was normal to watch motorcycles to blast past while peering over a wall eating cake and sipping tea.

We did try and get an earlier ferry back from the tiny Island but with thousands of motorcyclist, lots of teams and two ferries a day, the backlog was epic so we sat pretty for a day and hit the roads around the island.

It might be a small island but there are many hidden roads to be found, take is steady through villages and speed restricted areas, give gas and enjoy the rest. Our last day of the Island stared with a massive English breakfast with wedges of toast like a house brick and ended after miles of riding with a smoked mackerel sandwich and a cup of tea, total bliss.

Onto the ferry and it was motorbikes that ruled as hundreds and hundreds motorcyclist dispatched off the island. Docking this time in Liverpool I headed back to my folks to regroup, upload my photos for the magazine and see the family before moving on to Silverstone only a few days later.

Riders for Health – MotoGP Silverstone

In glorious sunshine (yes, I really did say glorious sunshine!) the British Grand Prix kicked off a day early as Rider for Health rolled into town. Now this charity is super cool as they work towards making sure all health workers in Africa have access to reliable transportation so they can reach the most isolated people.

You can bid for things like your favourite rider’s kits, helmet’s, boots, gloves, leather-suits, photographs, all kind of things memorabilia. American legend Randy Mammola is an avid supporter; The Riders for Health charity auction has been a UK only event for many years but guess what? Not anymore. Both the US’s Moto GP’s in Laguna Seca and Indianapolis are hosting the charity auctions and more Moto GP memorabilia will up for grabs and auctioned off. If you can, go to it, you never know it could be you who has a unique piece of rider’s kit or machine hanging from your walls.

www.riders.org/

Silverstone

Up until now, camping had been fun but in true British fashion, the good weather disappeared as quickly as it had arrived and practice and qualifying had a bitter chill in the blustery conditions. Keep moving during the day and it’s manageable, lie down at night and you’re shivering in your sleep.

Pleasingly race day was brighter and the Moto GP racing was spot on. Despite the extremely rapid Spaniard Jorge Lorenzo running off with the Main race, there were good battles all the way down the field. Most impressive was the fight for the last podium position in Moto GP and it involved both Ducati’s and ex world champions of Nicky Hayden and Casey Stoner and rookie to the class, ex AMA superbike champion Ben Spies.

It was Ben who came out glorious and now moved himself into position to benefit from Rossi’s absence and parts that could soon become available. An interesting an exciting season now looks to likely to unfold and Ben’s right on the pace at the right time to arrive in Laguna Seca as a race winning candidate. In fact I’m now going to say that he’ll win it and it won’t be his last of the year either.

I saw lots of old faces in England and caught up with some good friends, at least I now understand why the British drink so much. It’s to numb themselves from the cold and Whiskey warms you up from the inside out. 3 t-shirts, 3 hoodies and a full set of Cold Killer later and I was still shivering in my rather shoddy sleeping bag. Thank god for the hip flask.

USA Moto GP: www.motogp.com

Laguna Seca: 25th July

Indianapolis: 29th August

Final word

Now I’d like to urge each and every one of you to go off on a week’s ride to anywhere. Team up with a buddy of equal ability and the experience will blow your mind. Apart from much high gas prices in Europe and astronomical gas prices in England. The whole trip around Europe didn’t cost much more than fuel and food….plus alcohol, a tunnel, a ferry and robbery. (Nail it down if you are in Italy).

I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again. Motorcycle’s Rock and I love them.

Get on one and go ride it somewhere…

The End