You don’t always need a ferry ticket and two weeks off work to have a proper adventure on a motorbike.
Sometimes you just need a free Saturday, an early start and somewhere vaguely interesting to aim for.
From Sheffield, the sea is a long way west. So that seemed as good a destination as any.
The plan was simple: ride across to Snowdonia, find the best roads we could along the way, keep heading west until we ran out of Wales, then turn around and ride home.
The Africa Twin seemed like exactly the right bike for it.
Getting Out of Sheffield
The first part of any good ride is usually the least interesting bit.
Get out of town. Get some miles behind you. Try not to stop for fuel twenty minutes after setting off because somebody forgot to fill up the night before.
But heading west from Sheffield, things improve pretty quickly.
The city disappears behind you and the roads start to open up. Before long you’re crossing the Peak District, then Cheshire, with North Wales somewhere ahead.
An Africa Twin makes this bit ridiculously easy. Big, comfortable, plenty of room to move around and enough weather protection that a cold morning doesn’t immediately make you question your life choices.
It’ll sit there eating miles all day.
Which is useful, because we’ve got quite a few of them to do.
Things Start Getting Interesting
There’s a point on the ride west where the landscape begins to change.
The roads tighten up. Stone walls start appearing. The horizon gets lumpier.
Then eventually you see the mountains.
That’s when the early alarm and questionable petrol station breakfast suddenly seem worthwhile.
By the time you’re properly into North Wales, you’re no longer trying to get anywhere quickly. The road itself has become the reason you’re there.
And there’s something about riding an Africa Twin that makes small roads particularly difficult to ignore.
You see a road disappearing over a hill and think, wonder where that goes?
Ten minutes later you’re on broken tarmac in the middle of nowhere, there’s grass growing down the centre of the road and you’ve got absolutely no idea whether you’re getting closer to Porthmadog.
Perfect.
This Is What Adventure Bikes Are For
It’s easy to look at big adventure bikes and think they’re designed for crossing deserts, riding to Mongolia or disappearing around the world for six months.
And obviously, they’re very good at that.
But most of us aren’t riding to Mongolia this weekend.
Sometimes an adventure is just taking a road you’ve never ridden before because you’ve got enough fuel and nowhere particularly important to be.
That’s where the Africa Twin starts to make sense.
Good tarmac, bad tarmac, gravel dragged out of farm entrances, wet roads under the trees, the occasional bit of mud. You don’t really need to think about it.
You just keep going.
The weather can change just as quickly.
One minute you’re riding in sunshine. Ten minutes later you’ve climbed a few hundred metres, the temperature has dropped and you’re wondering why you didn’t close the vents on your jacket.
Then the sun comes out again.
Welcome to Wales.
Up Is Easy. Down Is Different.
Mountain roads are brilliant on a motorbike.
Going uphill is the easy bit.
Open the throttle, let the engine do the work and enjoy the corners. If you’re carrying a bit too much speed, rolling off the throttle, engine braking and gravity do a surprisingly good job of sorting things out.
Then you go over the top.
Suddenly gravity has changed sides.
An Africa Twin isn’t a small motorcycle. Add a rider, some luggage and perhaps a pillion, point the whole lot downhill and there’s a fair amount of weight trying to gather speed.
Now the brakes are doing some proper work.
And this is the bit people sometimes misunderstand about good motorcycle brakes.
It isn’t just about outright stopping power.
It’s about consistency.
You want the lever to feel the same at the bottom of the mountain as it did at the top. You want the pistons moving freely, the seals doing their job and both calipers working as they should.
You shouldn’t really be thinking about any of it while you’re riding.
Squeeze the lever. Lose the speed. Tip it into the corner.
That’s it.
If you’re thinking about your brake calipers halfway down a Welsh mountain pass, there’s a fair chance something isn’t right.
It’s also why we’re slightly obsessive about the things at Apex. See our ATAS Piston & Seal Kit.
Clean seal grooves, healthy seals and pistons that move freely aren’t particularly exciting when you’re standing in the garage.
Halfway down a wet mountain road, they suddenly seem considerably more important.
Keep Heading West
The miles disappear remarkably quickly when the roads are good.
You ride through little villages, stop occasionally for fuel and spend far too much time discussing which road was best when you should probably be getting on with riding the next one.
Eventually the mountains begin to open up.
After hours surrounded by rock, trees and Welsh hills, you start getting glimpses of something different ahead.
The sea.
Porthmadog.
That’s it.
We’ve run out of west.
There’s something satisfying about reaching the coast on a motorbike, even when reaching the coast was completely arbitrary in the first place.
Park up. Find something to eat. Drink a coffee. Stand around looking at the bikes and talking complete rubbish about the roads you’ve just ridden.
It’s been a good day.
Then somebody points out the obvious.
Sheffield is that way.
Now Ride It All Backwards
This is one of the best things about riding somewhere and coming home on the same day.
A road ridden in the opposite direction isn’t really the same road.
That brilliant descent from earlier is now a climb. Corners that tightened on the way out suddenly open up beautifully. Views that were behind you are now spread out in front.
And those long climbs where the Africa Twin spent the morning thumping its way effortlessly uphill?
They’re descents now.
Time to use the brakes again.
The miles slowly start to feel longer as the mountains disappear behind you.
North Wales turns back into Cheshire. Cheshire eventually gives way to the Peak District. The roads become familiar again.
By now you’ve been on the bike for most of the day.
Your visor is filthy. The Africa Twin has acquired a respectable coating of Welsh road grime. You’re tired in that strangely satisfying way that only comes from spending an entire day riding a motorcycle.
Eventually, Sheffield appears again.
Completely Pointless
You’ve burned through a tank or two of fuel.
You’ve covered hundreds of miles.
You’ve crossed half the country to stand beside the sea in Porthmadog, drink a coffee and then ride all the way back again.
Nothing has been achieved.
There was no meeting to attend. No hotel booked. No ferry waiting for us. We didn’t need to be in Porthmadog at all.
We just wanted to ride there.
And perhaps that’s the bit people who don’t ride motorcycles never quite understand.
Sometimes the destination only exists because you need an excuse to get the bike out.
Completely pointless.
We’ll probably do it again.