There are two kinds of days off. The sensible kind, where you do chores, cut the grass, maybe buy a new sponge, and earn brownie points with your other half. And then there’s the kind where you set an alarm for 5.30am so you can ride 260 miles in the rain for the sheer fun of it. Guess which one I chose this week?
I rolled the Suzuki V-Strom 650XT out of the garage, Kies heated vest plugged in on standby like an old friend whispering, “You’ll need me, mate.” And, right enough, just outside Carlisle the heavens opened in what can only be described as biblical fashion. The sort of rain that makes you wonder if Noah is about to sail past. I had to pull over and sit it out for 10 minutes, staring at the sky like a disgruntled farmer, waiting for a gap in the deluge.
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The Carlisle rain |
Mercifully, as soon as I crossed into Dumfries and Galloway the sun decided to make a grand reappearance, as if nothing had happened. Suddenly, everything sparkled. The roads dried, the hills lit up, and I remembered why I was daft enough to do this in the first place.
The real joy began on the A712 from Crocketford to New Galloway. What a road. Twisty, scenic, flowing—one of those rides where you find yourself laughing inside your helmet. For me it was more than just great tarmac; New Galloway was my grampa’s home town, and rolling in on two wheels brought back floods of memories of childhood visits. Only this time I wasn’t sat in the back of my mum’s car eating wine guns - I was carving through the bends like a kid in a sweetshop.
Then came the main course: the Raiders Road. This little forestry track through Galloway Forest Park isn’t long (it’s only 10mins), but it’s pure fun. Loose gravel, puddles, flowing river and lochs in view, and a sense that you’re properly off the beaten path… yet compared to the trauma of the Dempster Highway in Canada, this was practically spa treatment. The KTM I’d borrowed on that Arctic trip was built for punishment; the V-Strom with its road-biased tyres less so. Still, the Suzuki handled it gamely, though I found myself daydreaming about how much easier off-road rubber would have made it.
By the time I emerged back on the tarmac, I was grinning ear to ear. The Raiders Road is a proper hidden gem, just like the rest of Dumfries and Galloway. Everyone bangs on about the Highlands and Islands (and rightly so), but if you want twisty roads, stunning views, and zero traffic, this part of Scotland quietly delivers.
And the best part? I clocked 260 miles, bagged a forest track adventure, revisited some family history, and still rolled back up the driveway in time for a late lunch with my wife. See? You can fit it in if you want to.
Next time, though, I might even manage to cut the grass. Maybe.