Whitby or bust on a CD175

The plan was simple. The three of us would jump on the bikes head to Whitby, pitch tents and have a few days on the lash. Live it large, like young men are supposed to do. What could possibly go wrong? Our assorted rides for one thing.

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Texan to Scotland

I pump my fist as I cross the River Sark. The M6 becomes the A74(M). England becomes Scotland. The car behind me honks in support of my celebration. Scotland is one of those Mecca places for an American – as with Ireland, almost all of us claim to have originated here – and this is the first time I’ve made it this far north in almost eight years of living in the UK.

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