Ride has been shinned and is waiting patiently at the stable gate, the anticipation is stomach churning the excitement is hot, like the the morning air, last slurp of the coffee, don the patches, start the engine and go, 850 Mile trip, certainly not the longest, not the shortest but the first run to a rally, fucking stoked.
Chapter roll out.
One by one, the members arrive, all pensive and quietly nervous, different nationalities, different languages but with one goal to ride and have fun, not easy, being part of of a group when everybody is so individual but that’s what makes it so special. The sight and the sound of 25 Harley’s rolling down the street in search of the road is impressive, special and highly invigorating.
The vests work hard to to keep the group rolling together, and as we roll up the on ramp, set the tempo in the early morning sun, pride sets in at being part of this amazing moment in life, we are on the way and living the dream.
Crossing the border and flying over the river Guadiana we take the old national road for a while through Lepe to change the engine pitch for a while before jumping back on the highway to weave through the traffic on the ring road around Seville. We’ve arrived on the Harley main line to the event, where all of the riders from Northern Europe converge to Jerez.
Harley after Harley join up for the steady flow of HOG members heading South, the heat was high and rising in temperature as we arrived at the one and only toll booth on our route. There was congestion as each rider paid there single toll by credit card, not allowed to pay as a group.
Riders from all over Europe converged on Porto Sherry for the event, for some reason the show area was flat, don’t know if it was because of the charge or what, around the area there was a great buzz and vibe but the sale stalls and tents were empty and the great band line up played to a handful of people and a line of onlookers from outside the fence.
it’s the journey and not the destination, never has been more apparent and nevertheless the Chapters of Portugal, took advantage of the moment and came together for a unforgettable evening with music supplied by friends from Porto, toting the gusty sounds of the Gaita.
” Gaita-de-fole”
The parade on Saturday was a success once the start point had been located and several hundred bikes rolled out under police escort, along roads and highways and sometimes 6 abreast, before rolling down the 4 lane high street in Cadiz and mesmerising the morning shoppers.
Free Ride.
Leaving early to head first North and then west to avoid the afternoon heat and a being blinded by the sun, meant riding alone, the experience was gratifying in the morning air, riding free is the way of the free spirit and the very reason for the ride, approaching the border just after noon, the choice of taking lunch in the last Spanish town was rewarded by sitting down with friends that had decided on the same.
Solar Towers in the Andalusian Desert
Whilst spraying off the flies and road dust in the late afternoon sun, flicking through the story, a broad smile, sunburnt arms and a pot of memories until the next time.
Ride and have fun✌️
Two Wheels Algarve 