Wight Riders M.C.C.

Gurt Gallybagger

May bank holiday.  1999.

   This year we had a record number of Moonshiners book tickets, 39 to be exact.  The plan was to set off early Friday morning, and meet the rest of the club over on the Isle of Wight.  So, by six a.m. there was a jolly little convoy of four trikes heading off towards the Cotswolds.  The sun was shining, no one broke down, there were very few idiots on the road, in fact, everything went too well.  No queues or hassle at the ferry terminal, a dead calm sea, things were looking up.
    By dinner time we were all had our tents set up so we headed off to the Wight Mouse for some grub.  Apart from the prices being somewhat higher than back home, things were turning out well.  By the time we returned to the site a few more folks had turned up.  The minibus was once again running people up to the 'Mouse, and at 1-25, it was better than risking your licence.  So ended Friday night.

    Saturday morning and a thick sea fog covered the whole field.  I fired the trike up and headed off into Newport to stock up on grub and goodies.  By the time I was a couple of miles away from the site, the sun was blazing merrily.  In fact, the sun was blazing all over the island, except for the rally site.  One of the good things about the Isle of Wight is the way you can "dodge" the weather.  I generally toured about until it was time to grab the bus up to the 'Mouse.  On returning from the 'Mouse we headed for the marquee.  The beer was not too expensive but the amount of volume and distortion coming from what we took to be the band was too much to bear.  Several of us took refuge outside and "behind" the line of fire, so to speak.

    Sunday saw me heading off to do a spot of fishing, and very enjoyable it was too.  The rest of the club sort of split up and spread out, as they do.
    I decided to take the trike up to the 'Mouse.  Seeing as I am not that bothered about drinking, there was no risk of being "done" for drink driving.  It seems I made a wise choice.  The one minibus that was running just wasn't big enough to carry more than fifteen people at one time.  When you have nearly two hundred bikers all waiting for the same bus you can imagine what it was like.  Some folks waited nearly two hours for a lift back to the site.  Nothing to do with the Wight Mouse, the bus was being run independently.  Maybe they'll lean from this little episode. 

    This year, all but four of the Moonshiners headed for home on Monday.  This was a little odd, as a fair few of us usually stay on the Island for a couple of extra days.  Still, that's the way it was.
    I stayed over just for the one day, which I spent fishing yet again.

    Once again the lads and lasses of the Wight Riders and the Honda owners club did us proud.  Another Gurt Gallybagger over and done with, roll on the next one.  

    Tuesday morning saw me loaded up and heading once more for the ferry and my continuing holiday following the coast Westwards, but that's another story.



Lone Wolf

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