The North Coast 500

The North Coast 500 is a five-hundred-mile loop that stretches from Inverness in Scotland up and around The Highlands. Taking in the most northern point on the mainland British Isles as well as some of the highest, it’s considered to be one of the ‘bucket list’ routes for riding and driving fans. Join me on a three-day journey around one of the most iconic riding routes in the world, riding the updated CB500 range. All the models in the range have received various upgrades, from brakes and suspension to headlights and body panels. Honda have set me the challenge of documenting this adventure by way of only being able to write three 500 word accounts of 500 miles on the 500s. Here’s how I got on.

CBR500R

Day one of my journey is blessed with better weather than I expected. I say nothing in order not to taunt the parting clouds and hop on a bike. The plan is to head North, hand-railing the North Sea on the A9 in the direction of John O Groats. If you’re doing the NC500 in an anti clockwise direction as I did, this first leg is a great way to ease yourself into things. Over the next three days I’ll find myself navigating along roller coaster B roads, some with cows as big as busses standing in the middle. I was grateful for being eased into it rather than thrown into the potholed, gravel strewn deep end. Roundabouts get further and further apart, fast flowing dual carriageways give way to A and eventually B roads.

I ride over the Kessock bridge in the beaming sunshine, climbing out of Inverness with a smile as wide as the Firth beneath me. I’d hate for any of you to think that I’m trying to make this more emotive than it already feels, but like you I’ve spent the last 12 months daydreaming about getting out of lockdown and finding some new roads. The A9 feels every bit as good as I’d hoped.

I’m on the CBR500R and I’ve already fooled one follower on Twitter into thinking it’s a 650. He changes his mind, asks if I’m on a Blade and then turns into an embarrassed emoji when I inform him it’s the 500. In the looks department I’d class that as job done, but there’s more to this bike than a hand-me-down coat from either of its big brothers. Radial mount brakes and twin discs up the front are the biggest immediate improvement I notice, but the list of subtle tweaks here and there all help to improve an already very good service.

We pass Whisky distilleries, one after the other. I recognise the names and at one stage feel like I’m riding along the top shelf of my local pub but I’ve got bigger and better things to think about. Namely ticking off a picture at the John O Groats sign, as far north as you can possibly ride in mainland Scotland. Picture bagged, it’s west towards Tongue, the landscape is changing with every horizon. Eventually the rolling hills of the east coast give way to jagged mountains and after 149 miles it begins to rain. The CBR500R isn’t fazed by the rain or the change in pace, which goes from easy overtakes in fifth and sixth to pointing and squirting in second and third, the new brake setup pays for itself time and time again. After 190 miles we roll into Tongue. The CBR500R hasn’t missed a beat and I feel fresh enough to park the bike, grab my fly rod and sneak off to wet a line. A few hours later I’m full of food, talking about the ride and the fish I fooled. I love motorcycling.

CB500F

Day two starts a couple of hours earlier than it did for my riding mates, I creep out of the Ben Loyal Hotel at 05:30 and steal the last hour of darkness back on the river. For a brief moment in time it’s just a Heron and me, sharing the sunrise. It is outrageously silent. I ask the Heron if it’s always this quiet and he shoots me a look that says “bugger off you absolute amateur”, so I do. The only salmon I see that morning is served with scrambled eggs, it goes down a treat.

Today’s route doesn’t have the luxury of A-roads and I won’t see a single set of traffic lights all day. The ride from Tongue to Gairloch is only 150 odd miles, but it’s pretty much all on single track roads that lend themselves to the naked CB500F perfectly. Although the CB range shares the same motor and underpinnings, the F feels lively and seems to love being revved. I oblige and have to remind myself a couple of times to take in the views. The scenery speaks for itself and repeatedly reminds me that it is show stopping.

I expected rain up here and got it, I also hoped I’d get big views that would grab me by the eyeballs and I got that too. I didn’t expect to crest a hill into a place called Durness and see a sandy white beach full of surfers, paddling out to perfect sets of waves. It feels like I’ve ridden into Croyde Bay in North Devon. Leaning into the wind with a coffee from the little shop I get an appreciation for what I’m looking at. The place (and the route) is mobbed with camper vans and now I know why as I’d have been happy to stand and stare all day.

Thirty five miles of amazing later is the Kylesku Bridge, this place is the one you show all your mates when you’re talking about the NC500. It has everything in one picture, drama filled clouds sit on a mountainous backdrop, Loch Unpronounceable divides the landscape and a curved concrete bridge pulls the whole scene together. It’s an incredible place to stand in the rain but that’s exactly what I did and it was worth every drip down the back of my neck. There’s still hours of riding left in the day and I’m genuinely closer to Iceland than home in South London. If you’re looking for solitude, this is where you’ll find it.

It’s on to Ullapool for a clear visor and a coffee and then to our final destination for the day in Gairloch. I have no doubt it’s stunning but it’s dark when I arrive and all I’m interested in is a dram and some hot food. I leave the CB500F to cool and catch a breath, I didn’t think I’d enjoy it as much as I did. Turns out I was surprised by more than the views today.

CB500X

As a motorcycle journalist, I’ve been fortunate enough to pull back countless hotel room curtains to reveal some amazing views over the last seventeen years. I’d call the view that was waiting for me on the final day ‘challenging’. Visibility surged between 100-150 metres, depending on how strong the gusts of wind were. Rain fusses at my window trying to find a way in to me. 

I’m excited to get out there though. I woke up knowing that this was my last day and that within the blink of an eye I’d be back on the South Circular, battling busses and skipping round traffic. I’ll take a wet day in the Highlands over reality any day. Plus, I’m on the adventure styled X model today. There’s a very good reason it continues to win awards from the wider motorcycle media in the A2 category, it’s ace. I’m confident that the extra travel in the shock and the extra disc will both help but it’s the new Africa Twin spec front mudguard I’m most pleased to see. Anything that helps keep rain away from my feet gets serious approval today. Half an hour into the day and I find the cow I mentioned on day one. He has shaggy brown hair and a pair of horns straight off the bonnet of a 70’s Cadillac. He’s blocking my way up the Applecross Pass like a bovine bouncer.

Dress code checked, I’m free to make my way up and over one of the steepest roads in the UK. The X makes light work of it, leverage is good and the upright position allows me to enjoy what’s going on.

I don’t know if it’s a local joke or not, but when we stop for lunch in Kishorn on the other side of the Applecross Pass, the nice lady tells me that a Golden Eagle lives on the large island in the bay. I shrug off soggy kit and spend most of the lunch stop glued to a pair of binoculars. The salmon tastes as good as if I’d caught it myself and I decide that it would be this place that I would choose so far if I was able to hang around for a day or two. The bay looks like something out of a Bond movie, a crop of islands (one of which has a Golden Eagle…) flank a dry dock in which an oil rig is in for an MOT. It’s ripe for some explosions, helicopters and abseiling agents. From Kishorn things start to level out and open back up towards civilisation. A stunning snake of a river keeps my attention until I realise there’s a train matching my speed to my right. They wave and I do too, it feels like I’m riding in a movie scene that I never want to end. The run into Loch Ness is the end credits to an unforgettable three day ride. The CB500X played the lead role like a boss.