Bounce Back!

It was really cool to receive the Liebster Award and also involve other bloggers in the process. I was delighted when my Harley Brother, Rick, accepted his award. Please visit his site Harleytravelsandtips.

DSCF1783

Now Rick has decided that he wants me to answer some questions from himself as part of the deal, which is fine by me because I guess it gives everyone the chance to get to know me a little more, sort of!

So here we go with Rick’s questions:

Now here are some questions for Dookes.

1. Best place you ever found by accident?
Easy, Dookes H.Q., where we live. It’s a 300 year old stone built cottage on the edge of Bodmin Moor in Cornwall…the far South West of the U.K.. I wasn’t looking for a major restoration job, but when I saw this place I just know that I had to live here. Now, 13 years later, it’s almost finished!

2. If you could move any place where would it be?
Southern France, maybe the Provence region. I’m getting fed up of our cold and wet winters, love everything about France so that’ll be the place.

3. NFL or Premier League?
Tricky! To be honest I’m a Rugby Football fan and an ex-player. So the Premier League with its over paid prima donnas doesn’t really do it for me. The Championship, the next level down, is far competitive and not at all predictable. I don’t see much NFL these days, but in my youth I was quite a Washington Redskins fan; remember Super Bowl XVII, happy days! Needless to say, my cousin who lives in Chicago doesn’t quite agree with my choice of team! So we’ll say NFL.

4. Half a chicken or 10 wings?
Oh, half a chicken…far less messy!

5. Change your own oil or take it to the dealer?
Change my own, which I do a lot, cos oil is cheap and engines ain’t! Unless its under warranty, or part of a service plan. Oh, it’s gotta be fully synthetic too!

6. What do you know about Evil Knievel?
Robert Craig Knievel – The Last Gladiator. A boyhood hero, I got quite good at crashing my pedal cycle just like he did his Harley XR-750! I never saw the point of the Snake River Canyon thing though. I remember watching his jump, and crash, at Wembley Stadium, London, in 1975 like it was yesterday.IMG_0386

7.What and when-your first computer?
Some twin 5.25″ floppy drive pile of c**p with an orange screen waaay on back when Adam was a boy!

8. What was your worst riding experience?
I’ve had a few on horses, but I guess you mean motorbikes! It’s a dead heat between getting caught by a thunder-storm on Col de L’Iseran, 9088ft/2770m, in the French Alps or the white-out in a blizzard on the Grimsel Pass, 7100ft/2164m, in Switzerland. Sliding sideways on ice in the tunnel on Galibier runs it pretty close too. Click to have a look!

9. What was your best riding experience?
The last time I rode a motorbike, because that’s always the freshest in my mind.

10. How did you get two-wheel fever.
Well that bloke Knievel has something to do with it! My father had an old BSA C11, a single cylinder 250cc, it was always in bits, but it sort of got my curiosity going. Then in the 1970’s the Yamaha FS1E 50cc moped came out. Some of my friends had them and I started to ride theirs, no licence or insurance and don’t tell mother! I later worked with a group of lads who all had bikes and again I rode around with them, same situation regarding licence etc! The bug had well and truly bitten, so eventually I did the test and got legal. Now I do “Advanced Riding” and tell everyone how to behave…aw hell my secret’s out now!

11. Can I borrow some cash? (People ask me this all the time because I have a new bike they think I have money). It’s just good credit I say.
Now what makes you think I have any spare. Like you I own a Harley, but have you any idea how much genuine spares or parts cost to import here in the UK? Be glad to buy you a beer one day though!

So there you go Rick, there’s a few secrets outed there, hope you enjoy reading the answers!

Ride safe, ride hard brother!

Dookes

Just Blowin’ Away Some Cobwebs

OK, I know… I’ve been whingeing on for a bit about how I haven’t been out on my beloved Harley for ages, so I guess the first thing to say is, “Sorry about that!”

Whilst it seems like for ever to me, it’s actually only been eight weeks; such is the depth of withdrawal symptoms that I have been suffering!

Well, the good news is that the enforced riding break got busted last Saturday!

The day dawned bright and clear, we had rain in the early part of the night which nicely washed the salt off the road, so all looked fair for a quick breath of fresh air on two wheels. Apart from a quick return blast along the A30 between Launceston and Bodmin, something else a bit more interesting was also called for. Harley was running as smooth as ever and like me, seemed pleased to be out again. So lets head north-west for about 16 miles and find the delightful coastal village of Crackington Haven.

I hold a special affection for the place and its beautiful beach.

Many, many, years ago a young Dookes once spent a wonderful holiday there, playing the crashing surf and hunting in rock pools for crabs and shrimps. Today not much has changed, though over forty years have passed! The beach is still a mix of glorious sand bounded by rocky outcrops, with some of the highest sea cliffs in Britain.

IMG_0490

Crackington is, in addition to being a super holiday location and when the tide is right an absolutely brilliant surf beach, amongst the most interesting geological locations along the North Cornwall Coast.

The rocks here date from the Upper Carboniferous period and are around 325 million years old. They originally started as mud and clay deposited in a relatively deep delta basin, which at that time lay roughly on the Earth’s Equator. These stones have moved around a bit! Over time the movement of the earth’s crust has compressed the mud into hard shales, sandstones and slates. In places the twisted and folded rocks show fantastic patterns in the cliffs.

IMG_0483
Such is the geological importance of these rocks that they have been named the “Crackington Formation” and although they have been studied for well over 100 years, they are still yielding new fossils and data. Not bad for 325 million year old mud!IMG_0496

The air was clean and gin clear, sometimes it can be easy to forget that we are blessed with such vivid light in our corner of the world, but Saturday certainly gave me a gentle reminder. Standing there on the beach, soaking up the view and atmosphere, I got a real sense of being at one with the world.

IMG_0493

Riding home, the air temperature was beginning to fall; 6 C/43 F, boy was I glad of my heated gloves and jacket liner!

Harley and I rolled back into my workshop after a fifty mile long smile; Mrs Dookes greeted us, “Good ride?”

“Yeah, great thanks… just been blown’ away some cobwebs!”

I’m back in black.

Catch you all later,

Dookes

Taking The Long Way

The wonderful summer weather is fast becoming a mere memory as we slip firmly into autumn. Sticking out into the Atlantic Ocean our county of Cornwall certainly gets more than its fair share of storms and gales, this last week we got the first one of the season. To be fair it was more like 24 hours of squalls, but the leaves started to spin off the trees as the rain came down in whipping sheets.

Not surprising then that Harley and I haven’t been out much in the last two weeks. I’m not at all bothered by whatever the weather is when I ride, but sometimes if it’s just for pleasure and its chucking it down I’ll pass and wait for the clouds to scud by. Coupled with other life pressures I really have not had time to get out on the road. Actually its the longest period of time that I have not ridden her since March this year, shocking, absolutely shocking!

This weekend I have made sure I got everything else done and today I carved out some time to go get mellow, on my beloved Harley.

We needed a few supplies, so I took a right and headed up the A30, crossing the border into England and pointed to Okehampton on the northern side of Dartmoor. It was good to blow the cobwebs away, but hell there were some real jerks in cages out there on the road! A quick stop for supplies and a complementary coffee, some of you will guess which supermarket I shop at, then time for a decision.

I really wanted a chilled out ride, without having to street-fight the cages, so I took the West Devon Ride back towards Cornwall. This is the old A30 road, the one that existed before the dual carriageway trunk route was built. In fact it follows the old trade route that dates back before the Romans. It runs from Sourton on the west edge of Dartmoor to Launceston on the east edge of Bodmin Moor and is twenty five miles of really enjoyable riding. Today it was empty, very like some of my favourite French roads. Harley was able to sit at a legal yet quick pace and I was able to get stuck into some nice corners whilst enjoying the changing autumn colours and the great scenery. The air is beginning to get a bit of a chilly bite to it and I was pleased to be able to adjust my heated jacket to stay snug. Passing through a couple of villages the smell of wood smoke showed that we were not the only ones with the heating on! After Launceston we kept to the back roads, taking the long way and just enjoying ourselves. Those bends were just great! No photos, I was too busy having fun!

OK you want a picture? Not the best but hey, I’ve spoilt you all in the past!

Well, last Thursday evening at Plymouth Harley Davidson we were invited to the launch of the 2015 models. Big emphasis was the new Road Glide, which to be honest doesn’t really do it for me. There is a big boxy faring on the front that I just can’t quite appreciate, but each to their own. I do however, like the Rushmore Electra Glide and also the new metallic blue colour for this year. This is the blue on a V-Rod muscle bike.

P1020645.JPG

 

…and this is the 2015 model of the Electra Glide Ultra Limited.

P1020643.JPG Silver and black looks nice, but for me it really needs to be a solid colour. These are big bikes, 103cubic inch (1690cc) engine, dry weight of 398kg, 2.6 metres long and a top speed in excess of 120 mph. Nice!

Gotta say I’m pretty smitten, I think I feel a test ride coming on. Can’t hurt to try one, can it????

P1020644.JPG I can just see myself sitting here!

“I always find my way somehow, by taking the long way around”

Catch you soon.

Dookes

Simply Gorge-ous

imageAt the summit of Ventoux the temperature was naturally cooler, there’s a clue in the name, vent = wind in French, it’s an altitude thing you know! Dropping into Malaucene it had soared.

We turned north to Nyon and picked up the gorge of the River Eygues, which closes in to spectacular vertical cliffs around St May.

imageWe took a breather and enjoyed a leisurely late lunch, more local fruit, in the cool of the gorge.

imageDriving through the gorge I noticed a number of springs at the roadside that had been turned into shrines, complete with troughs and in a couple of cases cross. Whilst we were having lunch a large truck pulled up and the driver went over to the spring, splashed himself with some water then signed himself with the cross and stood obviously saying a prayer. He then took some water in his hands and splashed it on his truck before driving off. I was intrigued by this ritual, which was repeated about fifteen minutes later by a car driver. I figured that this spring must have some significance, so before I set off I washed my hands in it and splashed some on Harley for luck. Five minutes later down the road, it poured down in the short violent way it can do in the mountains, darn it, forgot the prayer!

We stopped the night just outside Gap, a nice town that claims to be the southern gateway to the Alps.

image

….a claim that could just about be correct!

Just finished breakfast, time to roll.

“Long live rock and roll!”

Dookes

 

Hot Stuff!

Phew, what scorcher today has been!

Harley and I got away from Tudela at 09:30 and promptly found heavy traffic for nearly twenty miles until we got onto the Autopista, then we virtually had the road to ourselves! The sun was pretty unforgiving, even at that time of the morning and the temperature was already well into the mid twenties Celsius. The landscape remained quite parched, though nowhere near as arid as our desert exploits saw last evening. We skirted Zarragoza, a large mess in Ebro valley. I know it has nice parts, but the industrial sprawl that has surrounded the old city kinda spoils it for me. The regional names around those parts always seem quite romantic to me; Navarra, Aragon (where Catherine, Henry VIII’s first wife came from) and then Catalonia. The Autopista is a toll road, not cheap, but sure gets you there quicker than the National Routes. I grabbed this quick shot at a toll booth to show the typical scenery that went on for miles and miles!

20140617-202144-73304289.jpg
We cruised into Llieda, for fuel and a visit to the Harley Davidson Dealership where we were made very welcome….all of the staff were ladies. Excellente! The cathedral citadel towers above the old town.

20140617-202537-73537240.jpgWhilst the city park looked cool and inviting through the imposing gates.

20140617-202859-73739227.jpg
One of the many things I love about my Harley is the way she enables me to engage with complete strangers. By the park gates was just such an example, a group of teenagers gathered around admiring her and I soon realised by their use of signing that they were deaf. One of the lads indicated to me to blip the throttle and when I duly obliged, great merriment ensued, the lad indicated to me that they could feel the vibrations in their stomachs! Try sitting on her for 200+ miles pal, you’ll know what vibration is then! Well actually no, she doesn’t vibrate much at all really, but I digress. Others rushed to the back of Harley to put their hands in the exhaust as it exploded from the pipes, never have I seen such happiness gained from feeling the air vibrate in such a way! After a few minutes of such goofing about, I had to say farewell to our new friends and hit the road. We turned the corner out of sight and stopped, so I could wipe a tear away. That bloody motorbike frequently has a way of putting life into perspective for me and reminding me of how lucky I am for so many things! It’s just one of the reasons that I love her so much, got tears in my eyes again thinking about that moment…
After Llieda, we turned north and started the slow climb to the Pyrenees. I was looking forward to getting some altitude and hopefully cooler air. The land soon began to grow towards the sky and the valleys narrowed as we found harder geology.
Halfway it was time for lunch, fresh apricots and peaches from a roadside stall. Why can’t we have stuff like this in the UK…? Oh yes, cos it’s too bleeding cold and wet! Nice view though.

20140617-210517-75917363.jpg
After a bit more climbing we arrived in the Principality of Andorra and clocked up another country that Harley has graced, that’s six so far! Naturally we just had to visit the H-D dealership, which is not only one of the newest in Europe but probably the most exclusive…until one opens in Monaco!
Now this place, Andorra, is something else…
It’s a bit of an anachronism, the place that the Moors never got around to grabbing when they took over Spain and subsequently no-one else has bothered with! It’s supposed to be a tax haven and also cos it’s tax free a shoppers paradise…well not exactly! Looking at the dealer tee shirt that I bought in Llieda it was €25 before tax, but here in Andorra the same shirt was €27, that’s two bucks more expensive in real terms!!!!! Get this too, Andorra ain’t even in the EU, let alone the Euro zone, but hey any cash will do! The drivers gain my “Most bonkers in Europe” award, the blanket speed limit is 50kph, but now and again there is a 200metre stretch of 60kph, just watch ’em go! That’s when the driver of a Porsche 4WD found out a Harley goes faster, just had to be done! Bizarrely, the fastest stretch of road in Andorra is in the Twin Valleys Tunnel at 80kph, I dunno why either…! Gotta say that I’m not over struck with Andorra, a mate says it’s good for skiing but apart from the highest capital city in Europe I don’t think it’s got that much to offer, give me the Alps any day!
The view out of my room.

20140617-214842-78522668.jpg

Catch ya later!

“Riding down the highway, stoppin’ in the byways, playin’ rock and roll.”

Dookes

In memory of Piran, an old git, but a true friend!
Yesterday don’t matter when it’s gone.

Desert Exploration

imageimageimageimageimageYes, honestly, a real desert…

Right, cards on the table. This trip does not have a theme like many of my other adventures. Well OK, it is about the pure unbridled pleasure of riding my beloved Harley, but we are not chasing fictional spies or following in the historical footsteps of anyone. The trip doesn’t even have a name, though I am open to suggestions! There are, however, one to two places that we are going that I have long had on the old Dookes radar. Tonight the destination was the Bardenas Reales Natural Park.

This is an extensive semi-desert unpopulated area of nearly 42,000 hectares in the South East of Navarra. It has a unique landscape with high cabezos cliffs, raised plateaus, hidden ravines and eroded land forms matched by few places on earth. There are three main areas but tonight we only had time to head for the most spectacular, La Bardena Blanca.

The landscape is jaw dropping amazing. It’s evolution began about 20 million years ago when the depression was marsh and inland sea. Geological changes then caused the land to drain to the north and further shifting of the rocks brought about a tilt that reversed the flow of the Rio Ebro to drain into the Mediterranean. The alluvial deposits became soft mudstones with sandstones capping them. Over time, weathering has attacked the landscape wearing the mudstones and silts away quicker than the sandstone and leaving behind a spectacular and changing scenery. The area receives minimal rainfall and is officially Europes largest desert.

The rock formations are amazing, best of all is Cabezo de Castildetierra which is a fragile finger pointing skywards and literally in the middle of nowhere! Access to the park is via gravel tracks, which certainly  puts off many visitors and I must admit that under normal circumstances I would not have dreamed of taking Harley off Tarmac, but you don’t get to drive in a desert everyday! So….off we went, slowly, very slowly!  You can see from the pictures that Harley certainly got the dust in her toes and by the time we got back on real roads certainly looked a tad weathered! The whole place has a touch so Area 51 about it, engendered by the presence of a large military zone complete with barbed wire sentry towers and signs basically telling you to go away….I didn’t see any UFO’s though!

Sorry that the photos are in one block, but at least I got them posted! If the photos remind you of anything, well, think Spagetti Western and you’ll be spot on as many of them were filmed around these parts. As Clint once said “With the Rojos on one side and the Baxters on the other, a man could make money here…..”

“On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair”

Catch you all later, off to the High Sierras, in cowboy speak, next!

Dookes

 

Hola Espania!


Well, my wish for no rain in Spain was granted! Lovely warm weather saw us into Santander just after midday. The beaches were golden whilst the hills beyond looked brooding with high cloud. Unfortunately Harley and I with over a hundred other motorbikes were stuck on the lower vehicle deck for over forty five minutes whilst all of the other vehicles were disembarked! It was like a sauna, only with motorbikes in there with you as well, not pleasant!

Once we were released, the Spanish authorities could not have assisted more and we all flew through passport control and customs without any further hold up. Harley and I hit the Cantabrian Autopista and sped eastwards. Traffic was ok, a little busy round Bilbao but soon thin to almost nothing on the AP68 as we headed towards the red soils of Rioja and the Ebro valley. The Region of Rioja is rightly famous for its splendid red wines, made largely from the tempranillo grape and acres of vines can be seen stretching away for miles. Now I have seen quite a few wine producing areas around the place, but Rioja takes the prize for the sheer scale of the cultivation. The vines are small, but boy are there a lot of them!

20140616-222032-80432433.jpg

The road was quite simply fantastic, lots of European cash has been invested in the Spanish transport network and the roads have got to be amongst the best anywhere, a real joy to ride.

“I’m just glad to be here, happy to be alive.”

Dookes

20140616-222812-80892244.jpg

 

ii

Cast Off!

Well here we are again on my favourite ship in the Brittany Ferries fleet, the MV Pont Aven. I’ve written all the statistics about her before, so if you really want the details either look back at previous posts, way back, or go Google! Anyway, she’s more cruise liner than ferry and definitely more Pullman than tourist. She’s the Flag-Ship of the BF fleet and I love her!

The ship is very busy today, being outside the school holidays the clientele are definitely, shall we say more “mature”! Let’s put it this way, most of them make me feel pretty young….! By the time we were manoeuvring out of port all of the deck chairs were nabbed and rearranged into tight defensive enclaves that reminded me of the film ‘Zulu’!

Like I hoped, the run to the port was lovely and sunny. Harley purred along contentedly, like me probably happy to be on the move, whilst I got used to riding her fully loaded up. It’s a funny thing how different she handles when all the gear is strapped to her, but after about twenty miles it seems normal.

As we passed through Plymouth I mused how glad I was to often set sail from that port. Not because I either have any affection nor wish any ill on the place, it’s just that you know as you ride to the port that anywhere else is going to be better! I can hear the knives being sharpened in City Hall as I type! Let’s put it this way, Plymouth certainly has it’s nice parts; The Hoe, The Barbican and erm…? Yeah, it’s a biggish city, sea port, naval base, transport hub (or was until the airport was closed!) and shopping centre, but it ain’t exactly up there with London, Chicago, Barcelona or Rome! What is does have going for it, both for me and probably millions of others, is that is the springboard to adventure and has been for hundreds of years. It’s the place that the Pilgrim Fathers sailed from to the ‘New World’, it vies with Portsmouth to be known as the home of the Royal Navy and was formerly the last stop, via tender, for the great Ocean Liners as they fought for the Blue Ribband of the North Atlantic. Quite a pedigree and to be honest, it’s still doing great business today. Well done Plymouth!

Now, if only your football team wasn’t so bad…..!

“There’s a feeling I get when I look to the west and my spirit is calling for leaving.”

Dookes

20140616-080526-29126699.jpg

This Time Tomorrow, Where Will We Be?

On a spaceship somewhere, sailing across an empty sea….

Or in my case on a big white ship sailing across the Bay of Biscay, to Santander in northern Spain.  Yes people, the next adventure is about to begin!

Amazingly for the start of a Dookes trip, it’s not raining! How many times have I set off in the wet stuff? Can’t remember to be honest, but today looks like Harley and I will at least arrive at Plymouth Port Terminal looking smart! Weather forecast along our route looks favourable at the moment too, so screw it, lets ride!

I’ve got the usual mix of emotions before a big trip; excitement, nervous and just impatient to get going. Harley looks the business, continental headlight fitted and new rear tyre nicely scrubbed in all set to go. It’ll be cool if you all tag along again! The ship sails at 16:00BST, don’t miss it!

“Come on with me, tramps like us, baby we were born to run.”

Dookes

 

D-Day 70 Years On. Remembering Heroes.

When Harley and I visited Normandy earlier this year we were privileged to be able to visit some of the famous D-Day beaches and contemplate the events of 70 years ago when the liberation of Europe from Nazi dictatorship began. Much is said about the actual landings on the beaches, but I mentioned then about the contribution that airborne troops also made to the operation. Sometimes I feel that this vital contribution is not given the full focus that it deserves, because without it the whole operation would not have been the success that it was. I am not decrying what happened on the beaches, merely drawing attention to the oft forgotten massive contribution by the airborne operation

In the hours leading up to D-Day itself, 6th June 1944, 13,000 allied airborne troops either parachuted into occupied Normandy or arrived by glider under cover of darkness. They had set out from fifteen airfields across southern England and crossed over the English Channel in a massive stream of 220 aircraft that was described as being nine aircraft wide and five hours long! Soldiers from all of the allied nations were involved, but the majority were British and American. Let me tell you a little about one of those American soldiers.

Daniel L. Reiling was a classic Mid-Western American kid, he didn’t have the easiest of starts in life, he never knew his father and at times life was a little tough. Determined to get on in life he joined the U.S Army as a career soldier. He progressed well through the ranks and married a good-looking girl from Chicago, named Florine, whose father owned restaurants and whose mother came from Britain. By the time that the war in Europe was raging Daniel was a Sergeant in the 502nd Parachute Infantry Regiment. Soon he found himself and his men crossing the Atlantic to Britain on a troop-ship which constantly zig-zagged to dodge the deadly threat of Nazi U-boats. On arrival in the U.K. the troops were posted to various locations for more training and preparations. Some lucky ones managed to get leave, which Daniel did and took the opportunity to visit his wife’s family, though by all accounts the poor chap was suffering from influenza and spent a fair bit of his leave in bed being looked after by his wife’s uncle, my Grandfather William. You see now that there is a big family connection here!

Following his leave, Daniel returned to his unit and began the final preparations for the Liberation of Europe. His regiment was allocated to two airbases, RAF Membury and RAF Greenham Common. Unfortunately, we have not been able to ascertain yet exactly which one Daniel’s platoon was at, but we will! On the evening of 5th June 1944 the various airfields involved swung into action. At Greenham Common, General Eisenhower, the Supreme Allied Commander, dropped in to encourage the troops. IMG_0343Men and equipment were prepared and loaded onto the C-47 transport aircraft which at the assigned time taxied to the runways and began to take off. Sergeant Daniel L. Reiling and his men would have been dressed in full combat kit armed with a variety of weapons, they sat in total darkness inside the noisy vibrating fuselage of the C-47 as it took off and turned South towards Normandy.IMG_0342Once over the French coast the pilots took the aircraft down to the jumping altitude of 500 feet  The green jump light came on at 00:48 and Daniel threw himself out into the Normandy night, landing in a field near to Saint Martin de Varreville and set about making life difficult for the Germans! By 06:30 St Martin had been captured and shortly after the German garrison at Mésières was taken as well.  Five days later the town of Carentan was liberated after fierce fighting that included a bayonet charge. The 502nd then moved to assist in the capture of Cherbourg before stepping down for regrouping and rest, before rejoining the war and fighting their way across Europe, finally capturing Hitler’s private residence and many senior Nazis at Berchtesgaden in May 1945.

By the end of the conflict Daniel had been promoted to Master Sergeant and shortly after was promoted to Sergeant Major, one of the youngest in the Army. Later he was to see action in Korea and became an officer, finally rising to the rank of Major.

During WWII and the Korean War, Daniel was in a total of 13 major campaigns. In all that fighting he was wounded in the leg during the Ardennes offensive near Bastogne, but never received the Purple Heart. He won two Bronze and one Silver Star plus several other wartime decorations. Sadly, he died young in January 1969. I guess you could say he lived a full life, a real american hero, a John Wayne kind of guy. In our family we are all incredibly proud of him; none more so than my cousins, Florine, Peter, Paul and Marianne.

Over the last few weeks I have been able to visit the remains of both RAF Membury and Greenham Common. There’s not much left at either place to recall events of 70 years ago. There is however, another old base about 60 miles away from Dookes H.Q. that also played a prominent role in that airborne assault, RAF Upottery, here there is still quite a lot to see. Last evening I took the opportunity to make a pilgrimage with Harley and my mate Greg to the old airfield and remember the events that unfolded on that fateful night.

It was a super evening to be on a motorcycle and riding through the beautiful Devon countryside I pondered if it was like this all those years ago? An old sentry post is now a memorial to those young men who left to fight in mainland Europe. P1010770The old airbase was quiet and still and much has reverted to farmland, though the runways, control tower and a few other buildings remain. P1010774Just by luck we met the local farmer who gave us permission to go on the site. It was with some awe that I turned Harley onto the main runway, the strip of concrete and tarmac from which 81 C-47’s took off, this was hallowed ground indeed! It seemed fitting that an American motorcycle was visiting the place where so many young American soldiers took off, some never to return.

P1010782

In some places the grass is beginning to win.

P1010779

After spending some time soaking up the atmosphere, we decided to leave the ghosts of the past to enjoy the sunset. As we rode off the airfield we were aware of other people who were gathering to pay their respects as well. DSCF3394

Stopping to chat with one guy he observed that we have much to be thankful for, we have indeed; like a super ride home west into a crimsoning sky on a growling Harley Davidson! I’d like to think that those young paratroopers would have approved!

Dookes

 

The battle patch of the 502nd, I think that this will look good on my leathers!

IMG_0344

 

 

Dedicated to all those who came by air in 1944.