Wight Riders M.C.C.

Gurt Gallybagger.

May bank holiday.


Time, tide and the Gurt Gallybagger rally wait for no man. 

Yes, it’s  Isle of Wight time again. 

I made a start bright and early at about half past five in the morning.  I find this a great time to travel, very little traffic and all sorts of strange wildlife wandering about in the road.  By the time I had got clear of  Marlborough the traffic was just starting to build up. 

After a few more mile I caught up with Kev and Bucka on their Trikes.  We carried on as a threesome to the ferry.  The ferry company managed to totally cock things up.  Their ticket machine was incapable of printing a ticket with the words "Combination, trailer and pillion."  Seeing as the ticket didn’t say combo, trailer and passenger the ticket collector wouldn’t accept it.  Following a few words in the booking office all was sorted out.  The next stop was Worzels, for breakfast.  On leaving Worzels I noticed my front tyre was flat.  Now on a bike this is a serious problem.  On a rear engined Trike it isn’t.  Despite the caravan I carried on to the rally site and booked in. The tyre can be fixed later I thought.  The rest of the day passed as all good days on the Isle of Wight should.  Beer up the Wight Mouse, followed by supper.

 The next day I headed off to Dave Death motorcycles in Carisbrooke and bought a new inner tube.  Very cheap at only 5.  After borrowing Gordon’s tyre levers and pump I whipped the wheel out and changed the inner tube.  A quick test ride to Freshwater and back proved the tyre to be all right.  An hour latter I noticed the tyre was flat again.  This time I Borrowed Bucka’s Trike and headed off for another inner tube.  This one stayed up.  Great, punctures fixed, time to enjoy myself.  Wrong.  The next morning my back tyre was flat.  Seeing as I was going to fit new tyres when I got home I thought I may as well fit new tyres on the Isle of Wight.  There was an A.T.S. in Newport so off I went with a somewhat squidgey rear tyre.  The A.T.S. just happened to be closed for bank holiday Sunday.  Nothing for it but to head back to the rally site and wait for Tuesday and normal opening hours.  On my way back I spotted a National Tyre depot, and it was open.   Two new tyres and 124 later I was on my way.  Considering the tyres had covered 36 000 miles I don’t begrudge the money.  Still works out cheaper than a new rear tyre for a bike.
 Having sorted out the tyre problem the rest of the day was spent around the club barbecue before retiring once more to the Wight Mouse.

 The only thing that was annoying everyone at the rally was the wind.  It just didn’t stop blowing.  Tents were flapping around all over the show.  Still, it died out a few days later, only to return with a vengeance later in the week, but that’s another story.

 Myself, Gordon, Chris, Bucka and Roy stayed over on the island until Tuesday then headed over to West Bay for a couple of days.
 The Haven camp site tried to charge silly money but a bit of haggling soon put paid to that.  I asked if we could camp over by the trees, on the sheltered side of the site but was told no.  This was petty, to say the least.  Due to their insistence that we stayed in the middle of the field, Bucka’s tent blew about to such an extent that the poles snapped. ( It really was an ex-tent then)
 We spent a pleasant three days at West Bay, popping down the local pub each night before finishing off at the club bar.
 I called in to see how Sherry was doing and took her out for a couple of pints.
 Thursday saw us heading back via Cerne Abbas to have a look at the man with the thirty four foot willy.                      
We stopped for dinner at Westbury, where there is the figure of a white horse cut into the hillside.
 I got back home about tea time and unloaded the caravan, then loaded Grim up ready to set off for the Admiral Rodney the next day.  Just to round the week off we all popped over the Red Rose for a curry.

And so ends another most enjoyable Gurt Gallybagger.



Lone Wolf.

Back to 1998.