Within
this section I will try to remember some witty stories from times long ago when
I used to attend scooter rallies. Failing that I will just ramble on about
when I used to attend the runs. This section will not follow any set pattern
just me writing stuff as and when I can remember things.
I was a member of two scooter clubs within my local area, these were the Big Cock SC and Staines SC. The members of these two clubs were basically the same people in both clubs. A group of us formed the Big Cock SC during 1986 this then folded in approximately 1988 to re-emerge as Staines SC. Both of these clubs were affiliated to either the NRC or NSRA at the time of their existence. Most of the members of both clubs still remain friends to this day, although only one of them as far as I know attends scooter runs and events on a regular basis still, this being Steve Bone of course. We were also friends with a few other scooter clubs, Jailbirds SC, Junction 13 SC and we even shared a few B&B's with the Midhurst Detours SC.
The
people who I used to attend scooter runs and other events on a regular basis
with were as follows: Steve Bone, Roy Bland, Steve Bland, Gary Wilson, Shaun
Ellery, Steve Pottinger, Mark Fowler, Sharon Walters, Angela Brown, Kevin
Jackson, Kevin White, Paul Gadman and Nick Chard. Between us all, we had a
variety of machines that during the course of our times together ranged from a
standard Vespa PK50 to an AF Extra S Type Lambretta with almost everything else in-between. There were classic bikes like Gary's cutdown Rally 200 that
always jumped out of gear, Roy and Bone's Armando's twin carb specials that
holed pistons on a regular basis, my Lambretta that seized when it hit 50 mph,
and that classic Vespa P200, 'Smooth Operator' first owned by Roy and then sold
to Kev Jackson what a great custom machine that was (I don't think).
Before and during each run some people did strange things. Roy for instance would try to service his scooter whenever we stopped anywhere, because he thought there was always something wrong with it. Paul and Nick would always try and pull some local birds, but would always get blown out so they would end the evenings getting stoned instead of getting laid. Kev Jackson always bought a four pack of beer and proceed to carry it around with him for the whole weekend.
The one person out of all of them that I spent
the most time with on the runs would have been Steve Bone. This was
because either some of the others were couples or some of them didn't drink
much, I'm not saying we did but we tried to enjoy ourselves. I went to
Weston Super Mare in 87 with Steve on the back of his P200, we camped on the
site with the Jailbirds SC. It was here that we bought some scrumpy from
an off licence, he bought 'sweet' and I bought 'dry'. The 'sweet' tasted like it
was made out of castor sugar and the 'dry' burnt your throat. So we
thought we would mix them together, the only problem with this was that the
plastic containers they were in started to melt when the two types were mixed!
Now, Steve and I shared many a B&B room or tent together and I remember at
Scarborough in 1986 him trying to pull the landlady's daughter. She was a
cross between the She-Devil and Shergar, boy was she ugly! So when we went
into her room and Bone started giving her a load of old guff, I had to retire to
our room and lock him out. He was knocking on the door trying to get back
in for about an hour, he informed me that he was unsuccessful in his attempts at
wooing her (he had forgotten to take some sugar lumps with him), I think
he had a narrow escape, and she's probably now roaming the North Yorkshire
Moors! It was also at this rally where I behaved like a proper gentleman.
The entertainment for this run was held in an underground car park and it was
here that I could have took advantage of a 'Joanna Lumley' look-alike.
During the evening this girl (who was very pissed) came up to me and
rested her head on my shoulder and started talking to me and asking if I wanted
to go outside with her. I declined her offer and she staggered off,
she was then later accompanied outside by two other scooterists, Steve still
hasn't forgiven me for this (yet again I was young and stupid).
Exmouth 1986 was a particular good run for me
as it was here that we witnessed Steve Bland get drunk. This was because
his then girlfriend, Sharon didn't go. You see it was normally Sharon who
would have a drink and Steve would always be making sure she was okay (whereas
everyone else would try to take advantage of her if Steve didn't have his eyes
on her). It was quite eventful getting to Exmouth, I took Roy on the
back of my PX on the Friday evening, even though the week before he had
collected his brand new Armando's Special. This was because he had only
travelled 2 miles down the M3 on the way to Exmouth in the morning, when he
holed a piston. There was a group of us going together in the evening Me
and Roy on my PX, Gary on his Rally, Paul Gadman on his PX, Steve Pottinger and
Mark Fowler on their Lambrettas and if I remember correctly Kev Jackson on old
Smooth Operator. At one point on the way we had to share one can of petrol
between us, using an old oil bottle to share it out. It was here that Gary
had to explain to the proprietor of Hemspeed why his cheque had bounced the
previous week. Gary had put his Rally into their shop to rectify the
problem with his gearbox (cruciform anyone?), but when the bike was
returned it still jumped out of gear and also they somehow had damaged the
paintwork on the headset/gear lever by applying tape and peeling it off whilst
working on the bike. So Gary's dad (now my father-in-law) thought he
would issue them with a rubber cheque for the work they had allegedly undertook.
On the way home about 5 miles outside Exmouth Gary's gearbox finally surrendered
and it was left to Roy to wait with him for the RAC, because Roy was a member
and Gary had no means of getting his bike home. Whilst Roy was making the
call to the RAC a kind farmer driving a fork-lift truck offered Gary the use of
some welding gear, why nobody knows! I was also surprised that as Roy was
doing Gary a favour, Gary wouldn't let him have a s**t in peace in an adjoining
field.
Drinking large amounts of alcohol whilst
attending scooter runs was almost compulsory, but I have seen other liquids
drank when the need has arisen. During 1987 the NRC had an appeal for
donations to be made to replace a Scout groups boat that had been sunk by
scooterists at Rhyl that year. Now at the last run of the year at Newquay
one individual had an original idea of raising some funds for this good cause.
It was during the Saturday evening Do that this person offered to drink a pint
for charity, a pint of what? I hear you ask. Well I don't think it was bitter or
lager, although saying this it may have been before somebody else had
regurgitated it. The pint glass was full to the brim with what looked like a
mixture of vomit and phlegm, why anybody would have offered to drink it I do not
know as it looked revolting. In all that person had raised about £90 by
the time he went on stage to perform his act for charity. My mate Shaun
and I were the only ones from our party to witness this (although, I'm sure
some of you out there must remember this) the lad opened his mouthed and
downed it in one gulp, and then a couple of minutes later ran straight to the
toilets to offer the contents of his stomach as a gift to the "Gods of the
Toilet Bowl". It was also at another West Country rally (Exmouth
'85) that I witnessed somebody drink a pint of liquid other than beer.
I was sitting outside the Deer Leap pub along the seafront enjoying a drink,
when the person sitting next to me decided that it was impossible to force his
way through the packed bar to the toilets. So rather than wet his trousers
he pissed in a pint glass under the table at which we were sitting, this I could
cope with, but when his mate knocked it back I said my goodbyes and left for
another pub. Is it a strange ritual that I'm not aware of that when you go
to Devon or Cornwall it's customary to drink a pint of somebody else's
*urine/vomit/phlegm.
*delete where appropriate
The New Forest has long been associated with Biker rallies but during 1987 Bone, Roy, Shaun and myself went to a weekend event there organised by Nick Jolly and Junction 13 SC. This was a most enjoyable weekend that consisted of not much more than eating, drinking, playing baseball and lazing around for the duration. On the Saturday evening Nick had arranged for a coach to take everybody from the campsite to a do he had planned for that night. Upon arrival at the venue we discovered that Nick had been stitched up by the proprietor who had no intention of letting Nick hold a function that evening. So with no venue and the coach having left we all commandeered a fleet of taxi's (driven by complete nutters, egged on by us) to take us to a local pub/hotel that had a disco (I say disco in the broadest sense of the word) on Saturday nights. When we all arrived the DJ was forced to play whatever Tamla Motown, Madness, Secret Affair (you get the idea) records he had all evening. It was a great evening with Norman of the LCGB losing his underpants somehow and Roy turning down the advances of a mature woman who was drinking at the bar. Roy said it was because he was afraid of catching aids, we thought it was because he was a bit of a quint! The following morning people were reluctant to make the move home and one person, Freddie, was short of money. So Freddie was offered money in return for eating a piece of horse s**t (new forest ponies wandered all over the campsite) that was to be cooked on the barbeque. Here is a tip if anybody finds themselves in a similar situation make sure you get the money before you carry out the deed, as Freddie found out you may not get the money. Shaun said he was almost sick just watching him, especially afterwards when Freddie had bits of s**t stuck between his teeth.
One of my biggest regrets within scootering
was that I never took my bike test. I wish I had, as if I want to take it
now I am looking at having to spend somewhere in the region of £300-£400 (inc
bike hire). So on more than one occasion I had to occupy the pillion
seat on somebody's scooter to get to a run. Two of the most uncomfortable
have been to Isle of Wight rallies, once on the back of Mark Fowler and once on
the back of Bone. The problem with Mark's was that he had a Lambretta GP
equipped with a Snetterton seat not ideal for one person let alone two, and to
make matters worse for some reason he had removed the rear floorboards/runners.
The next time was when Bone borrowed Roy's cutdown Vespa P200 which had a slope
backed seat, my legs were stretched so far apart I was walking like John Wayne
for a week. Another more hair-raising experience was travelling to
Aberystwyth in 1989. I had to work on the Friday and so did Sharon.
Now Sharon offered me a lift on her T5 as all the others that were going were travelling Friday morning, also by giving me a lift it enabled Sharon's
boyfriend (Steve Bland) to go in the morning and not have to worry about
Sharon travelling on her own. Now I was not going to refuse this generous
offer which allowed me the opportunity to cuddle up to Sharon whilst travelling
down the M4. Everything was going great until we left the end of the M4 in
Wales and went on the 'A' roads to Aberystwyth. Now these 'A' roads were a
bit twisty and just down right dangerous in places and on more than one occasion
I was a bit worried that Sharon had left her braking a bit late. By the
time we reached our B&B I was just happy to be there, but when Steve came
downstairs from his room and asked Sharon why she wasn't wearing her glasses I
almost fainted. Needless to say I managed to get a lift back home from
Bone.
One of my fondest memories whilst attending
scooter rallies, was the feeling of achievement in getting to the Fort William
scooter run in 1989. The knowledge that I had travelled all that way (some
500 miles) on my own was very satisfying, also the fact that I managed it by
only going via 'A' roads. For those of you unaware the week leading up to
the rally had seen an emergency newsletter sent out from the NSRA, stating that
due to legal reasons they could not organise the run (so in effect it was
cancelled), also that there would be no campsite and that only those that
had B&B accommodation should travel. As we already had our B&B
booked we decided we would still go, the we being: Steve Bone, Roy & Steve
Bland, Sharon and myself. Roy and Bone were going to be travelling on the
Friday morning 2 up on a Lambretta GP225, whilst Steve and Sharon were not going
until Friday evening due to work commitments and then using Steve's escort.
As I was using my own scooter and I was unable to use the motorways I left my
home at 6 o'clock on the Thursday morning. I travelled via the North
Circular Road to the A10 then on the A507 to the A1, the A1 took me to
Scotch Corner (except for a detour through Doncaster due to the A1 being
motorway along this stretch) where I took the A66 over the Pennines to
Cumbria, where I picked up the A6 to take me up through Carlisle and onto
Scotland. From Carlisle it was straight up the A74 to Strathaven and then
onto East Kilbride where I was staying the night at my Uncle's house, arriving
here at about 6 o'clock in the evening (I apologise if I'm boring you with
the details). In the morning I followed my cousin whilst he drove his car to
lead me through Glasgow and out on to the A82, all I had to do then was just
follow this road all the way to Fort William. This was the best part of
the journey the scenery was just magnificent and also seeing other scooterists
on their way north made me realise, that perhaps the journey would be
worthwhile. Travelling up past Loch Lomond then up through Glencoe was an
experience never to be forgotten. I finally arrived in Fort William
sometime in the afternoon, after being stopped at the Police checkpoint just
outside of town. Imagine my surprise as I'm riding up the main street in
Fort William when I see Bone and Roy. So I stopped and asked them how they
managed to get there before me. Apparently they became impatient and had
set out at 2am on the Friday morning, they had got as far as Morecambe on the M6
when the back shock absorber on their Lambretta snapped, so the RAC took them
the rest of the way. Anyway I arranged to meet them back at the B&B
which was in Corpach a few miles outside of Fort William. As Sharon and
Steve had not yet arrived and Roy was tired from his journey (I said earlier
he was a bit of a quint-only joking Roy) it was left to Bone and I to sample
the hospitality on offer in town. The night was spent in a few pubs
followed by a club (McTavishes Kitchen?) within the company of Simon from
Barnstaple. All I remember is that I was drinking Tennants Bitter and
didn't feel pissed, but upon waking the next morning it felt like somebody had
skewered my head with a load of javelins. During the night Steve and
Sharon had arrived (with a spare shock absorber for the Lambretta) so
they along with Roy and Bone went out whilst I slept off my hangover.
Later on we all went to a local works club which had a pitch and putt course for
a quick round to pass some time. It was here that Steve Bland showed us
his prowess on the golf course. Upon teeing off on one of the holes he hooked
his shot to the left, the ball flew along the ground hitting an embankment which
ran alongside the course by the main road, before hurtling through the air and
smashing the windscreen of a passing van. Steve had a look of horror on his face
whilst the rest of us rolled around on the ground in fits of laughter.
Steve and the van driver then had to sort out the insurance details with the
club secretary and to make matters worse, Steve couldn't understand the
secretary's broad Scottish accent. After this we retired back to our
B&B where we watched on television England beat Scotland at football, which
happened to be taking place at Hampden Park that afternoon. The evening
was once again to be spent in the pubs of Fort William. I don't remember
why but again it was only Bone and myself again out drinking. During the
evening we played pool and made friends with Jason (sorry can't remember the
surname) from Brighton and Paul Woods from the Wakefield Knights SC.
Bone and I during the following year were to attend a do by the Wakefield
Knights SC held in Yorkshire as well as Paul's wedding reception. The
Sunday morning however saw us make the decision to start the journey home, the
reason being that as Monday was a bank holiday it would give us all a day to
recover from the journey before returning to work on the Tuesday. So all
our bags were placed in the back of the escort, Bone and Roy were 2 up on the
Lambretta, I was solo on my Vespa whilst Steve and Sharon were in the car.
Whilst filling up at a garage along the A82 we couldn't help but laugh at
somebody else's misfortune. A lad on a Lambretta had somehow managed to
get his kickstart pedal stuck between a cars wheel and tyre, don't ask me how,
but anyway as he was trying to prise him and his scooter free he somehow
punctured the cars tyre. To make things worse the car was fully laden with
family on board, luggage on the roof and towing a caravan, the driver was not a
happy chap, still it brought a smile to our faces. Now when we got to
Carlisle I had to make the choice of riding home on my own or risking riding on
the motorway and the possibility of points on my licence, I chose the motorway.
I figured it was worth the risk and also if I was to break down at least my
friends maybe able to help me. At one service station on the way home we
met Kevin Jackson, it turned out he had been to Fort William as well. At
the time he was responsible for the NSRA shop so he had gone to the run to see
how things went and to try and recover some of the money the NSRA had laid out
on having patches printed for the run (before the problems leading up to the
rally had occurred). As he was driving a hire car I swapped places
with him until the next fuel stop to try and lessen the chances of points on my
licence, so he rode my scooter and I drove the car for a while. We finally
arrived home after God knows how many hours, but the trip had been worth it.
Would I do it again? Yes, I probably would.
I went to the Maidenhead SC do the other night (5th Dec 2002) with Steve Bone, enjoyed myself having a few beers and a chat with Steve and his mates. I'm seriously considering buying another scooter, as I've just moved house and will now have somewhere to store it. Although I may try and take a bike test before purchasing one.
Thanks for reading this far, what with me getting the Lambretta I've discovered a renewed interest in scooters (all I need now is a bit of mechanical knowledge and some cash to get it on the road). This renewed interest was furthered when on a works jolly-up to Weymouth I discovered the Market House pub, home I believe of the Lowriders SC. It's great, northern soul, ska and other scooterist music on the jukebox plus untold scootering memorabilia plastered all over the walls. If ever you're in Weymouth I suggest you pop in there for a drink or two. I thank all the people who have left encouraging messages on the guestbook you never know I may get back on the road (sometime this century).