The definition of a Rite of Passage, starting from the pre-dawn ferries leaving for the Isle, loaded up with bike helmets, leather suits, racing boots, and middle-aged men chowing down on full English breakfasts and beer.
No words can explain the shock of the first bike passing you as you remain huddled behind the “safety” yellow barriers. While the weather caused havoc for our plans and the race schedule, the racing was spectacular, and the history and landscape of the Isle even more so. An amazing place with possibly the funnest, craziest events on the planet.
