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On site Men and Motors had sent a film crew and roving reporter Steve Berry, who spent a long time chatting to people and propping the bar up, he was also persuaded to judge the bikes. We staggered back to tents happy bunnies, just a couple of hours kip (or should that be Mr Kiplings? Thanks to the Crusaders early morning discussions on fruit pies). The ride out Saturday was to York and 170 bikes of the 476 people on site (believed to be a club record) headed out on a twisty and fast route to eventually park up near to Clifford's Tower and the Castle Museum, a very impressive scene with all the bikes in a huge circle. It was then the heavens opened for 5 minutes and we took refuge in tea houses and coffee bars, I went and did a little light shopping. Then it was back to the bikes for gossip and ice creams as now the weather was glorious.
And this, my poor bewildered reader is where the fun really starts! I decided along with Steve Tyson to head back to the site, and not via the coffee bar on the run out. Steve kindly suggested I take the lead back, an interesting choice as neither I nor Steve had a map or any sense of direction (the reason Steve chose me as a sacrificial lamb). After the others left I found I was then leading members of the Rejects, Vultures and Crusaders back (ooh 'eck mother). To make matters worse Mr (laugh manically as I haven't a clue either) Kenway rode beside.
After several circuits of the ring road looking for anywhere south'ish I settled for signs saying Hull (well its down and left a bit but still down) all was fine until the big roundabout where I could feel 30 pairs of eyes staring at me, burning in my back so to cure this I lost a few (sorry Sean/Leigh) and carried on regardless.
Filling up Steve decided it was time to ask some one the way which proved I was going vaguely the right way, and so we headed off again, with what was left of the pack behind me practicing close formation riding, and it was just as I was beginning to see the turn off for the rally site with a superb selection of backfires my bike left me stranded on the M18 as the others passed by, not their fault. So it was prod poke the bike and then eventually do what every good motorcyclist does call the AA.
¾ of an hour later and I was being trailered back onto the site and I saw Dave, Anne and co run up, "that's nice" I though "they have come to help" but no it was take lots of photo's of bike on trailer time.
Bike dumped on side, the Yorkies sourced me a battery for Sunday so it was hit the bar time, and night sunk low and well into Sunday as the sun came up. Serenaded this time by "The Flying Seamen"
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Sunday and we all got our bikes fitted with pink anti puncture goop, (Punctureseal) in preparation for our Czech trip, I went to get the new battery (thanks to the Yorkies again who gave me a lift) so while the battery charged up, the others went for Ride outs to the Armoury in Leeds, a local pub for a decent meal, I tried to get some sleep to little avail.
There was also an American bike magazine on site (Biker Alley) and they took photo's of all the girls, it really is amazing to see quite how many ladies do ride once they are together. Another good meal in the club house , yippee my bike is running again so party down to the group "Spank the Monkey" though sleep took hold of me and I crashed early.
Monday a lovely sunny day so packed up and I headed off back down the A1, a fantastic run back until 25 miles from home and the new battery is fried again, so the nice man from the AA got me home again. Thankfully less photographed this time
A fantastic weekend and the Yorkies ought to be proud of themselves, a superb start to the 10th anniversary year.
And if I learnt but one thing from the whole weekend it is that you cannot buy 6 packs of Mr Kipling pies, and that Peacocks do not sleep!!
Ian Cockney Rejects Member 3310
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It did not bode well during the week leading up to the Yorkies Rally, the weather reporters gave up with black clouds and started putting Arks on the map. Undeterred I headed my bike north (past the M25 security zone) and proceeded to get very, very wet, very hot and windblown in combinations of that order, or all at once. On your own in the rain etc the A1 is long and boring , in the same way as a Barry White song is, and I was glad to reach the site and to be greeted by a few other Rejects staggering back from the bar. By now the sun was up and a pleasant evening greeted us.