Boxing Day Motorbike Ride: A Wet, Cold & Brilliantly Daft Trip to Ness Point

Boxing Day - Motorbike ride to Ness Point for Sunrise

Boxing Day evening. Most people are asleep on the sofa in a food coma, or already planning their New Year detox. Us? We thought: Wouldn’t it be a great idea to take a Boxing Day motorbike ride to Ness Point for sunrise— the most easterly part of the UK? Just a little jaunt from County Durham, you know. Nothing major.

Fueled by blind optimism, strong coffee, and what we believed were waterproof jackets, we grabbed a couple hours of sleep before waking up in that classic “what have we done?” haze at midnight. Bleary-eyed but buzzing, we geared up and rode off into the freezing darkness, spirits high and common sense low.

And then it rained. A lot. Like biblical, sideways, ridiculous levels of rain. The kind that laughs in the face of “showerproof” claims. Turns out our waterproof trousers were OK(ish). Our jackets? Not so much. Our top halves were slowly being poached in cold rainwater

Our sunrise mission quickly turned into the Tour de Wet Services Stations. Fast food stops. Hand dryers. Toilets turned makeshift drying rooms. We must’ve looked like two soggy hobos chasing chips and heat. With about an hour to go and daylight already cracking through the sky, we knew it — Ness Point had beaten us.

Shivering, soaked, and slightly delirious, we made a detour to a local spa (because obviously). Nothing says “motorbike adventure” like waddling into a luxury spa in drenched leathers. The staff were saints, even if we looked like swamp creatures. After drying off a bit, having a power nap and a small existential crisis, we decided to stay the night — still determined to catch that sunrise, even if a day late. Eternal optimists, or just too stubborn to quit.

Of course, this meant dinner that evening was at a nice restaurant... in our thermal base layers. Nothing quite says “fine dining” like wet socks, long johns, and motorbike boots. The looks? Worth every second.

Next morning, after a takeaway breakfast wolfed down half asleep, we were back on the road and finally closing in on Ness Point. The finish line was literally in sight — just behind an industrial estate — when… CLINK. Chain off.

Because of course it did.

Luckily, we broke down right outside a bus depot. Angels in high-vis lent us tools, and after a temporary fix, we limped the bike the final few hundred metres to Ness Point — just in time for sunrise.

And let us tell you: after everything, it was totally, completely worth it.

The ride back? 5.5 hours of careful throttle control, praying the chain wouldn’t give up on us. Between Christmas and New Year, most bike shops were shut, and we were panicking. But after a LOT of phone calls and an unhealthy amount of begging, one absolute hero of a shop squeezed us in that same afternoon.

We rolled home lighter in the wallet, colder in the bones, and stinkier than we’d like to admit — but still laughing. Because honestly, this kind of Christmas chaos on two wheels is exactly what Two Idiots on A Bike is all about.

This one? We’ll never forget it.

Would we do it again?

...Probably.