National Road Rally 2026
Nick Lilley, Friday, 10 July 2026
The National Road Rally plays an important part in my motorcycling calendar. My introduction to it in 2008 was not auspicious, as I spent nearly an hour lost in Swindon at 2 a.m. in pouring rain, but surprisingly that didn’t deter me from entering every year since then. Other than it being an opportunity to ride my bike, I suppose it offers a personal challenge and gently stretches my otherwise comfortable, flabby existence. For those who don’t know, the NRR is a scatter rally with 100 or so defined locations and, depending on the level of effort entrants want to put in, one visits between eight and 24 locations over either one or two days or, as I opted for, overnight.
This year I started at 2 p.m. on Saturday and had to amass a minimum of 500 points and visit at least 21 locations by 10 a.m. on Sunday. The secret to an enjoyable NRR is in the planning: selecting an achievable route and knowing your left from your right. For me that’s around two days’ work (I don’t work an eight-hour day anymore); for others it’s probably half an hour punching postcodes into their sat-navs. I apologise if you detect a note of scorn and a smidgen of bias but, really, where is the challenge when you are being told to go here and turn there? I am the motorcycling Ned Ludd.
I have an article reprinted from the 1936 rally in which it was common to repair one’s bike at the roadside, stick a patch on an inner tube, and endure whatever weather was thrown at you, hoping a flat cap and gabardine mackintosh would keep you dry. Sitting in a mobile armchair, wearing cosy Gore-Tex and being told where to go, pales in comparison.
Handily, my first control was the Wild Bean Café on the northbound Warwick bypass, where BP had the nerve to charge 161.9p a litre. Fortunately, I didn’t need fuel, but when I topped up on the A1 just outside Grantham, 148.7p seemed a comparative bargain. For a full tank that’s a difference equivalent to a box of Morrisons éclairs.
I spent the afternoon and evening tootling round a circuit of the Midlands: placid Rutland Water and architecturally splendid Stamford contrasting favourably with a brutal industrial estate in Burton upon Trent. As the light faded, it was time to head south, and I parked outside Pat’s Baps, just outside Moreton, in crow-black darkness. If I hadn’t measured the distance from the centre of town, I would have ridden straight past it. However, the real advantage of choosing the overnight rally is that, after the first four hours, traffic ceases to be a problem. When I went through the centre of Calne on the way to Sells Green, I didn’t see a single car or person.
Although I carry a torch, it is important to scan the horizon for a good street light. A sat-nav emits a comforting glow of continuous information, but I am reliant on a piece of printed paper which, without illumination, is as useful as an anosmic bloodhound. And I have to remember what the next set of directions are, which is becoming increasingly problematic as I am easily distracted.
Shaftesbury and Yeovil were easy enough as the sky lightened, and I headed to the seafront at Minehead before making for my final control in Lynmouth. This was the part of the journey I had been most looking forward to because, after wobbling up Porlock Hill, the A39 crosses spectacular Exmoor with views of the sea to your right. As luck would have it, the moor was shrouded in a thick, soaking mist with precisely zero views but as I descended Countisbury Hill just after 8 a.m., visibility improved and I parked beside the Rhenish Tower in Lynmouth, having amassed 515 points and visited 22 locations.
After a quick wander around the harbour, I headed for a bench in the Valley of Rocks, where I thought I might have a doze before heading for home. It turns out that benches are not as comfortable as you think and, although the sun had risen on a beautiful day and the view was spectacular, after an hour I was heading back over the moor to Simonsbath and the M5.
705 miles and 25 hours after I had started out, I dumped my bike in the garage, made a cup of tea, took a shower, and collapsed on the bed. And that was my 2026 rally.
This year the rally used RallyAppLive to record entrants' progress, which automatically registers when you are at the correct location and it worked very well. In the past, controls were either manned by volunteers who stamped your card or you were required to record a code number displayed at each location. With the current difficulty in finding volunteers, the app provides a convenient and efficient solution.
Whether as an individual or as part of a team, there is no better excuse to get out on your bike than the NRR. You can choose a level of endeavour that suits you and you are almost certain to visit places you haven’t been to before. Hope to see you on it in 2027.
