21-22-23 July.  2000

    This rally was to be held 'way out East', around by the Wash.  Now I am not a great lover of the Eastern side of our fair land, a bit flat and featureless for my liking, but who am I to judge ?  Anyway, I set off for the village of Fleet Hargate, and apart from the nightmare that calls itself Leicester city centre, the trip was most enjoyable with the big red ugly bike rolling along nicely.  Having found the A 17, I spotted two of 'our lot' in a lay-by, so I turned around and joined them.  It seems that the rally site was proving a tad difficult to find.
"No problem" said I, confidently "The sign for Fleet Hargate is at the next island"
So we duly headed into Fleet Hargate, where, despite looking, we couldn't find the rally site.  Eventually we spotted a few tents and the like, lo and behold, it was the rally site.  It seems we weren't the only people who had this problem.  Maybe a few signs would have been useful ?
    We pulled onto the field and booked in.  I rode over to where a couple of our members were camped and stopped.  It was only by good luck that I didn't hit the rope that was strung across the field.  I had a * feeling * about this rope that was to be proved correct later on.  I whipped out the tent and before long had a magnificent erection ( NO - not * that * sort of erection - you perverts ).
    The next stop was the cafe situated alongside the rally field.  Oh dear, chilli and chips followed by treacle roly-poly and ice cream.  No wonder I'm a fat bastard.  Having fed I wandered back to the tents and stood around rabbiting.  By this time it was just getting dark and a biker came riding onto the field and headed for the section that was roped off.  The inevitable happened and both bike and rider ended up on the grass.  We dashed over and rescued the rider, before picking the bike back up.  Luckily both bike and rider were undamaged.  We also managed to find a few white carrier bags, which we tied onto the offending rope.  This would at least give folks a good chance of seeing the rope rather that finding it the 'hard way'.
    By this time, I decided to head for the bar and have a well deserved pint whilst catching up on the latest gossip with the Principle M.C.C. members.  I'm afraid talking was out of the question.  The disco fired up and promptly made any form of verbal communication redundant.  Now there's loud, and there's LOUD - and this one was LOUD.  I did what the rest of 'our lot' did and headed for the bar on the other side of the road, which turned out to be a wise move as the beer was cheaper.   Having been thrown out of the bar because it was closing time, we headed back to the rally site.  The disco was no quieter so I headed outside.  As you may of gathered, I'm not a lover of loud music.

    Saturday morning, and the glorious sunshine of yesterday had been replaced by a dull, overcast, chilly day.  No matter how I tried, I just couldn't 'take to' this rally, so I decided to pack up and head elsewhere.  The rest of the club stayed and had a damn good time, or so they tell me, but I'm afraid it wasn't the rally for me.
    The Moonshiners, as a club, enjoyed this rally, and will probably be going again next year, but I think I will be giving it a miss.



Lone Wolf.

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