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Click For A Big PhotieAh! Click For A Big Photie Pole Climbing Click For A Big Photie Click For A Big Photie Click For A Big Photie We’ve been meaning to do this rally for years, folk kept telling us how good it was and we just kept on missing it. Funny how wee things like life can get in the way of a good rally. Any bloke who’s missus is a nurse knows that gettin’ a nurse who’s off night-shift out of bed at 3pm on the Friday requires careful planning, 3 litres of fresh coffee, 20 superkings, a muller fruit corner and a sticky bun usually does the trick, we finally set off at 6pm and amazingly for this summer it was dry, arrive at Kirkpatrick Fleming (where?) at about 8pm.

The site was reasonably busy and the party was just getting into swing, so, tent up sharpish, drink out, off to the marquee. We hooked up with the rest of the Talisman crew, who’d set off earlier to go down the “A” roads, sit yer test Sharon, nag, nag, naggity, nag The bar was duly hit and things were gettin’ goin’. There was one food van on site, the lass workin’ it looked burst already, it was gonna be a long night for her 😉

As usual I was too gassed to notice the names of the bands on Friday night but they went down well, the crowd were pretty patient with the long breaks, Stuart the organiser had the almighty headache of a tempermental 5kva “jenny”. But it got sorted and the party went on. I apparently fell asleep outside the bogs in the wee hours, it was that bottle of (stave off the hangover) water that did it, honest !


Chrissy remained unimpressed with TD’s offer of ‘haute cuisine Watty, Me and Joe come face to face with an alien demanding alchohol as ever the traditional rally pole climb Watty, Joe and Dougie come face to face with an Annie demanding hugs Saturday morning, the hangover kicks in, but it’s not raining. I’m lying in my tent, the sound of Marv’s voice “Aye ye only get a hangover if ye stop drinkin’ “—- psshhhtt, the delicate sound of a ring pull in full flight.. A wander down to the Station Inn, a pub with a remarkably good juke box and even better “Bikers Special” of a huge Yokshire Pub full of stew and chips. Sharon gives the crowd a resounding rendition of the Aria from Mozart’s Meccano Concerto in F# whitworth We had a visit on Saturday from Jay, the youngest (newest?) member of the Talisman, it’s the one on the right by the way.

Suitably fed and watered it’s time to wander back to the site to have a look at the bike show and prepare for Saturday night 😉 The tea and coffee for a charity donation at the control tent went down a treat.  Click For Bigger Photie Click For A Big Photie Click For A Big Photie The organiser (Right) Click For A Big Photie Click For A Big Photie Oh Dear ! The Full hog in Full Song Click For A Big Photie Joe’s lovely Sunbeam S7 (I think), and Geordies Trumpet, ridden there and home in the pishin’ rain.  A proper quality Rat A very nice TL, resplendent with Spondon? mono arm and nitrous Lyndon and Jenny’s GS1000 rescued from a barn and look what luvverly leatherwork was beneath the cement dust Stuart, the poor sod who had to organise this (right) Oooooh yer haunds are freezin’ ! Warm ’em up by the more than adequate fire So Saturday night was upon us, or were we upon it?, who knows. Some of the crew had been busy with a fork loader piling all the wood that was left into a huuuuge big pile. When it caught it was rather warm !

Saturday afternoon, Bike Show and much bletherin’ ’bout mechanical type things, backed by the sounds of a band in the tent who sounded great, bashing out Floyd etc, dunno if they had to go to their beds early coz they should’ve been on in the evening.

Again I was too gassed to get the names of the bands except the Full Hog who after some “Jenny” trouble played well into the wee small hours. For those sittin’ around the fire, entertainment was provided by the obliging chap who donned a daft wig and proceeded to drive his XS650 (with straight throughs) round and round the site, picking up a few willing passangers on the way. Thanks to Stu and the Border Reivers crew for a great party, bloody hard work, but I think everyone appreciated it. And they even had to go get more beer. Tthat’s another regular for the diary. Footnote : On the way home I made it all the way to Abington services, where as I drive past the gas station I heard a huge “Doink!” . Whaddafuckwizzat ! . Then Discovering to me horror that as I touch the front brake the headstock and tank seemed to have had something of an argument on the motorway and decided to part comany.

The very helpful “Neil” in his yellow van ably trailered the poor broken beast up the road. On further inspection when I got home I discovered what you see below. Shiiiiiiit! Guess what I’m doing this weekend !    a              Joe’s lovely Sunbeam S7 (I think), and Geordies Trumpet, ridden there and home in the pishin’ rain.   A proper quality Rat A very nice TL, resplendent with Spondon? mono arm and nitrous Lyndon and Jenny’s GS1000 rescued from a barn and look what luvverly leatherwork was beneath the cement dust Stuart, the poor sod who had to organise this (right) Oooooh yer haunds are freezin’ ! Warm ’em up by the more than adequate fire So Saturday night was upon us, or were we upon it?, who knows. Some of the crew had been busy with a fork loader piling all the wood that was left into a huuuuge big pile.

When it caught it was rather warm ! Saturday afternoon, Bike Show and much bletherin’ ’bout mechanical type things, backed by the sounds of a band in the tent who sounded great, bashing out Floyd etc, dunno if they had to go to their beds early coz they should’ve been on in the evening. Again I was too gassed to get the names of the bands except the Full Hog who after some “Jenny” trouble played well into the wee small hours. For those sittin’ around the fire, entertainment was provided by the obliging chap who donned a daft wig and proceeded to drive his XS650 (with straight throughs) round and round the site, picking up a few willing passangers on the way. 

Thanks to Stu and the Border Reivers crew for a great party, bloody hard work, but I think everyone appreciated it. And they even had to go get more beer. Tthat’s another regular for the diary. Footnote : On the way home I made it all the way to Abington services, where as I drive past the gas station I heard a huge “Doink!” . Whaddafuckwizzat ! .

Then Discovering to me horror that as I touch the front brake the headstock and tank seemed to have had something of an argument on the motorway and decided to part comany. The very helpful “Neil” in his yellow van ably trailered the poor broken beast up the road. On further inspection when I got home I discovered what you see below. Shiiiiiiit! Guess what I’m doing this weekend !