Ace Café Brighton Burn up

Sept 13th 2003

(Words by Ian Thoburn)

A bright sunny day, the sparkle of shiny machines, the smell of Castrol R, we draw a discrete veil over the smell of 2 strokes from the hundreds of mods. Did you know that the scooterist's, are only run by one family? A dad with two sons, one tall with acne, the other fat and unwashed, yes Mod the father, Mod the scum and mod the holey post. (Sorry to anyone who remembers the Chris Tarrant sketch from OTT for that) mind you I do like the paintjobs a lot of them have.

There did not appear to be as many bikes on the run as previous years, and sadly no other Rejects to be seen till Brighton (hi Annya and Al) so a spirited ride down to Brighton was had, along surprisingly clear roads, especially along the coast, arriving in Marina Drive along with the New Forest HOG chapter.

The first person I saw, soon to be lost in the crowd was Roger from Solent, and those Axe Men really do get everywhere don't they?

Eventually finding a parking space, (Marina Drive once again was full end to end, and all surrounding roads). It seemed everyone decided to ride down earlier, hence the smaller turn out for the run. I strolled along in the sunshine, eager to soak in the atmosphere.

Apparently in the crowds were representatives from Essex and Kent, but with so many people there it was hard to find anyone, if there was a space anywhere it had a bike or scooter parked in it. Or Stalls selling trinkets and baubles.

There was some truly awesome and awful machinery to behold, some triumphs I would kill for, and some Harleys and gold festooned Suzuki's I would run a mile from. But ooh Baby the seriously purposeful V-Max with the Ducati upside down front end, with serious exhaust also, and a seat height on 3" from the floor of course my mind thought of our esteemed centre rep.

T-shirts were at a rip off price, but I countered this with some good priced panniers. Donuts on the pier, ice creams in the sun as rockabilly bands play off the back of a lorry, surely this is how life is meant to be.
Later in the afternoon, foot sore and weary we headed for a seaside pub a few miles away and then a glorious ride home, through the downs rolling countryside.
A splendid way to spend a September Sunday

Ian