Amy Shore

Amy Shore is renowned for her photojournalistic style in the automotive world. Her aim is to portray the love and passion we all have for machines on wheels through rose tinted spectacles, whether that be road trips across Europe, humble workshops or worldwide events such as the Goodwood Revival.

Looking across the North Sea to the warm, hazy land mass of Orkney with a beer in my hand, I reflected on the week that had just passed. 1,500 miles previously, myself and 100 other riders embarked on the longest motorcycle rally in the UK - The Great Malle Rally. Run by motorcycle apparel company Malle London, this rally isn’t one for the faint hearted. Over the course of the week, riders traverse along some of the most wild and beautiful landscapes Britain has to offer, including some of the most technically difficult. Hardknottt Pass in the Lake District, for example, has a maximum gradient of 33% in some places. Along with severe road camber, tummy churning drops and hairpins tight enough that you’d need to have a head like an owl to look where you’re going. The thought of meeting a car on your way up is not a pleasant one. There is just one condition for this rally - the motorbike you’re on has to be considered to be inappropriate for the challenge ahead. Some may say that’s a daft idea, others will understand it to add to the element of adventure. Yes, we could road trip in a brand new, fully serviced Audi. We would arrive at our destination in comfort, warmth and if you’re anything like me, well rested. But that’s never the point of an adventure, is it? The fantastic thing about motorcycles for a start is that you feel your environment. The rain is cold and finds its way right down into your boots. The wind pushes hard against you as you ride. But the welcome sun warms your damp gloves. You can often find yourself riding next to a flying bird. You smell the rain on warm tarmac. You arrive at your destination tired and hungry, but also hungry for the next stage of the journey. You feel like you accomplished something that ‘normal’ people would think you were out of your mind to attempt and on top of that, call it ‘fun’.

I was on a bike that initially seemed like the perfect fit for a long distance motorcycle rally, a BMW R18. At 365kg and almost 2.5m long, this is a cruising king. The long snaking A roads were a dream. The 1.8 litre engine sat happily on the motorway down to the start of Lizard Point in Cornwall. But this rally wasn’t about motorways and for that reason, this bike was probably one of the most inappropriate bikes to comfortably fit the brief. If this rally was any longer, I think my triceps would have arrived home looking like the Hulk from wrestling the bike around corners and car parks. Hardknott Pass was certainly the section I feared the most. I tactfully managed to let all other riders head up before me to give me the least chance of making a fool of myself. Enveloped in thick cloud the entire way up, I simply prayed to the motorcycle gods that there wasn’t a tourist coming down the opposite way in their comfortable Audi with Cliff Richard playing out of the speakers. To make matters more interesting, my slow movements and nervous breathing meant that my visor quickly steamed up inside. Seconds after opening it, my glasses quickly began to be coated in the fine cloud mist. So there I was, sat on a ridiculously heavy motorcycle that had only been dropped off at my doorstep a week before, riding up one of the UK’s most difficult roads, unable to see a bloody thing.

In an almost eye-prodding motion, I managed to clear my glasses long enough each time to get me up or down a hairpin successfully, both the bike and I stayed in contact with the road. By the time I got to the checkpoint 5 minutes later, I was exhilarated. I say now that I’ll never do that road again but I said that after the last two Malle Rallies. Where do I sign up for next year?