Alien Nation & Road Bouncers MCC.

"Something for the weekend"

20th - 22nd July. 2001

    "Who the hell are 'Alien Nation' and the 'Road Bouncers MCC' ?  Well, seeing as you are reading this on a computer screen you may be in luck.  The Road Bouncers MCC is a bike club for folks 'without attitude' who have had an encounter with Mr. Tarmac.  Alien Nation is a collection of people, some disabled, who happen to ride bikes / trikes and the like.

Anyroad, that's that bit over with, so on with the show.

    Seeing as I was setting off on Friday afternoon, the motorway seemed the best option - boring but fairly straightforward.  I "cheated" and printed a route list out using a well known product made by the "4th emergency service".  All went well until I was about seven or eight miles from my destination.  As I crested the top of a hill there was a pub on my left called the "Golden Pot".  Now this pub just happened to have the same name as the place I was looking for, so 'just to be on the safe side, I turned around ( which ain't easy when you're towing the dog kennel ) to double check.  Yep - the Golden Pot, but was it the right Golden Pot ?  There was a large blue and white disabled toilet sitting happily on the grass.   This was clue number one.  Clue number two was a Suzuki 1500 Intruder trike, complete with trailer tent.  Using all my powers of logical deduction, as Sherlock would have said, I then found Wolf and Lynne. . . .  "Now we were three".
     I quickly set up camp before turning my mind to better things, namely food and beer.
Now some of you may be asking why do you need beer if you're camping at a pub - sadly, due to a family bereavement, the pub was closed on Friday night.  Not to be daunted by a mere pub being closed, Wolf, Lynne and myself set off for the nearby town of Alton in search of beer and chips, which as you all know are the two foodstuffs essential to life.  Having eaten the chips, we spent the rest of the night sitting under one of the pub's gazebos putting the world to rights, whilst consuming the beer.
    Now I've been to rallies where I was the only one there on a Friday night, but this has to be the first 'rally' I've been to where the pub was shut on a Friday night.  The three of us sat under the gazebo, listening to the rain hitting the roof and debating the sanity of people who travel almost two hundred miles to sit in the dark and wonder if anyone else will turn up.
    So ended a most unusual Friday night - unusual but still most enjoyable. 

    Saturday morning sneaked up on us yet again.  One of the first jobs was to dig out that much travelled Alien Nation member "Max" and give him a blow job - - NO - - not that sort of blow job you filthy minded perverts - the sort of blow job that involves compressed air.  Following a few vigorous strokes Max was as hard as ever ( oh dear - that doesn't sound right ) and raring to go.  With Max standing firm and erect ( STOP IT ) we suspended him from the end of Wolf's trailer tent and waited for the others to arrive, and arrive they did.  Vern, Sam and Dik were the next lot to turn up.  So far it was Alien Nation 5 - Road Bouncers 1. 

    By mid afternoon there were quite a few folks milling around.  Looked like we were in for a good weekend.
    I emerged from my "kennel" after cooking dinner to be met by what can only be called a 'strange' smell.  It seems the pub's septic tank needed emptying, so a bloody great tanker was parked up on the car park whilst a large green hose led away across the beer garden and into the septic tank.  Oh the things they lay on just to amuse us bikers.  For even more amusement there was a drinking contest, which resulted in the contents of Vern's stomach being displayed for all to see.  "Enjoy your dinner did you Vern ?"
    The afternoon slid into evening, and people just sat about chatting, which seemed the best course of action.   I've no idea what time folks stopped drinking 'cos I'd long since gone to bed.

    Sunday morning and the hangover monster had certainly claimed a few victims in the night.  Still, nothing that a good greasy breakfast and a few painkillers won't fix.
    Having said our goodbyes, Vern and myself took the scenic way home via the Cotswolds, stopping for dinner at Alcester.

    What can I say ?  The Friday night was 'different', but I wouldn't have missed it.  It was good to put names to faces, so to speak.  Many thanks to Muzz for organizing the whole shooting match.  A good ride down to Hampshire, a weekend spent in good company, good weather and a most pleasant ride back home - I reckon that makes it a "Good" weekend in anybody's book.

 Cheers.

^..^  

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2001