Is the first day of a month on the road the evening ride to Harwich, or is it the first day in Europe that counts?
I’ll go with days in Europe, as sleeping my way across the English Channel feels like cheating.
In which case, that is three days down and twenty-something more to go. So far, the weather has decided to approve of our efforts to ride some of the wonderful roads and not-so-wonderful motorways across The Netherlands and into Germany.
Other than a little sprinkling of water on the ride to the port at Harwich, we have had dry roads and a fair amount of sunshine. Base layers and Keis heated jackets have been removed, and the thicker gloves relegated to the top case in favour of the lighter variants we didn’t expect to need until Slovenia, Croatia and Italy.
The Boring Bits
For all of my efforts planning routes, I can’t find a stimulating way of covering the 100 miles on either side of the ports at Harwich and the Hoek of Holland. Despite several attempts, I’ve given up and accepted that using the motorways is the only effective way to escape the urban sprawl on either side of the ports.
The joy of the enforced 100 miles on Dutch Motorways is that it is different. Gone is the familiarity of the UK roads, replaced by the broader vistas of the Dutch landscape. Sometimes being a relatively flat country has its advantages.
The other stand-out difference is the lane discipline on motorways and the flowing efficiency that comes from having wide roads and less traffic. Yes, in the rush hour, the motorways can get frighteningly frenetic, but early on a weekend morning, the miles – or perhaps that should be kilometres – are slipping past quickly and the turn-off point on the A12, just east of Arnhem arrived before the threshold of insanity was reached.
Divergence
Up to the A12 exit point, the Garmin Zumo XT GPS units had been behaving themselves. They both agreed on the best way to arrive at the A12 turn-off point, and there was harmony and bliss for the next hour.
The first difference of opinion we noticed was when one Zumo XT preferred to go through towns while the other would take the roads around them.
We have auto reroute turned off, and it was relatively easy to spot how the different routes would join back up on the far side of the town.
As both Zumo XTs were following the same GPX route and, as far as we could tell, both units are configured the same; it was somewhat puzzling how the units came up with such a repeatable difference of opinion.
At one point, my XT had a mad half-hour and directed us into a housing estate, as it appeared to think there was a road through a house and across a field. The problem seemed to be that the Zumo XT had failed to process the GPX file correctly and connected the waypoints both directly and by following the roads.
Next on the list of magical mystery tours was a succession of strange detours onto side roads before looping back onto the main route. These looked very logical until we worked out what was going on and ignored them.
Despite the best efforts of my GPS to get us lost, we ended up in Paderborn for the night, even if my GPS tried one last time to confuse me (not difficult) and tell me traffic was not allowed on the road to the hotel.
Semi-Active Suspension
No matter how well planned and executed any tour is, there are always adventures to be had and problems to work around. Roads get closed. GPS’ decide to do strange things, and I discovered that the front end of the Ducati Multistrada is easily upset if you put weight on the backend.
I’ve swapped the frustrating factory luggage for a Givi top case and a pair of SW-Motech metal panniers. The factory luggage may be aesthetically pleasing and great if you are going for the weekend, but the factory luggage wasn’t going to get the job done for a more extended trip.
Despite being almost eight years old, the semi-active suspension on my Multistrada has a seemingly infinite array of suspension settings to accommodate weight changes. Consequently, my confidence was high that I’d easily dial in a setting that would compensate for the “stuff” I’ve packed.
There is even a pre-defined setting marked solo rider with luggage, within which there are more options for pre-load and damping. What could possibly go wrong?
Arriving at the first committed engagement with a roundabout (traffic circles to our American readers), I discovered just how light the luggage and the suspension settings had made the front end.
Nothing scary, but it was an attention-grabbing moment. The front had felt light since the ride started, but I’d put that down to needing to become familiar with the change in handling due to the weight on the rear.
Sticking with solo rider plus luggage, I maxed out the pre-load and set the damping to “harder” rather than the default setting but was still plagued by a vague front end.
On the motorways, this wasn’t much of a problem, but when trying to enjoy the twisting and sweeping roads east of Arnhem, waiting for the front end to catch up before getting on the throttle was becoming annoying.
Reasoning that a pillion would be heavier than the luggage I was carrying, I abandoned the solo rider with luggage settings in favour of Ducati’s rider and pillion option and the delights of the Multistrada were restored.
It is still a lump and a half when pushing the loaded bike at petrol stations and in car parks, but once I’m rolling, it feels more like the Multistrada I’ve been riding around the UK for the last six months.
What Next?
The sun is out, and the guest house in Bad Sachsa is booked for the next three nights. As a result, the panniers are off the bike, and the contents of the top case are significantly reduced.
It is time to explore the Harz forests once again. Just as soon as I remember how to reset the suspension.
Photos:
The header image was taken at Die Biker-Burg, Tonenburg, in Weserbergland, Germany.
Despite all of the GPS shenanigans, one of the roadside stops was the same place I’d stopped last time (doh!).
The lake at Bad Sachsa. Not a bad place to sit and watch the world go by.
