Three Counties, Two Countries

Bunny hopping past the miles of slow moving traffic down the A41 in rural Cheshire brought the benefit of miles of open road, once past the leading tractor. It wasn’t until I crossed the border into Shropshire that my speed got hindered by an A.W.Jenkinson’s artic. The open road encouraged the smooth six cylinder engine to raise the speed to a driving licence endangering level, fortunately the restraint and maturity of the rider will hopefully have kept three points (or more) at bay!

Leaving Chester just after rush hour it was eight eighths cloud cover, overcast to non meteorologists, and a cool 13c, time for heated grips and seat to keep me in a relatively warm bubble behind the big screen. Motorcycle buddy Ken took no time in naming the new big screen Big Ears, so it naturally followed that he named me Noddy!

The Jenkinson’s lorry didn’t need to be ‘knocked off’ as, within a half a mile of entering Shropshire I was attracted to the Lockside Cafe sign, time for coffee and a cake.

It was an easy ride down the A41 then A49 to my intended scenic diversion at Ludlow, so no need to master again the complexities of the on board BMW satnav, which was a relief after I failed with my first attempt when leaving Southport yesterday! There’s something rather quaint about ye olde skill of reading road signs.

As I neared Church Stretton I couldn’t help but be drawn towards The Marches, so after a cuppa and another cake I headed up Long Mynd, a very steep narrow lane with glorious views, described on Wiki as ‘a heath and moorland plateau’.

I descended down the 25% gradient on the south western side and negotiated the myriad of narrow country lanes before emerging onto some cracking motorcycling A roads. 

I was now just heading in a generally southerly direction and inadvertently strayed the wrong side of Offa’s Dyke where I found myself in the land of a thousand consonants. 

A clue was in the signs dotted around the village of Knighton, but I still Googled it to confirm which country I was in. The village’s Offa’s Dyke Centre was closed, so I headed east back into England’s green and pleasant land and it was only a few miles before I was welcomed into Herefordshire.