Jay “Got the flyer for the Orkney Rally!” says the over excited (not so) Silent Bob. “Well huzzar, three cheers and a pip pip” says I; “about time!” Then we read the horrifying title of ‘The Final Fling’. “Nooooooooooo. God damn you, God damn you all to hell” (we cried in a convincing Charlton Heston voice). This led to frantic phoning of friends to find out if it was just poor taste for the name of this years rally, or, if indeed, it was the last of a most excellent rally. “One way to find out” says (not so) Silent Bob, “get tickets an’ lets go!!!” After a wee think or two realised the rally would be about 2 weeks after my son was due so it seemed a good excuse (as if I need one) to wet the baby’s head. 3 hours after grovelling to wife (in full blown pregnancy…with hormones!!) and half a dozen packets of chocolate later a cheque was posted.
Now it should be explained that (not so) Silent Bob, due to his past and many war wounds, had to take the 4- wheeled version of a motorbike, whilst I took my SV Wonky Donkey. This was cool due to the many mishaps my bike has had at past rallies, a bit of back up so to speak………but nooooooo……….after we set off on Thursday morning car No. 1 broke down at Perth with its gearbox falling apart. Few hasty phone calls later and me good lady had (not so) Silent Bob on her insurance and handed over the car keys. Meanwhile, I headed off alone into the wild blue yonder (yes it was blue, what happened to the blizzards??) while (not so) Silent Bob returns to Alloa for second “support vehicle”. The journey to Thurso was, warm, dry and uneventful apart from the 2 lorry accident at Berriedale Braes. Once at Thurso, being the ruffty tuffty hardened biker rally types that we are, I settled into the booked hotel room to wait for (not so) Silent Bob and Tam, who finally arrived after 9pm. Then time for a few pints before bed, (Tam needed all the beauty sleep he could get) before we caught the ferry next morning.
Friday morning arrived with all the promise of a fine weekend, (not so) Silent Bob took Tam to Gill’s Bay ferry with luggage, then dumped car and the adventure began. Whilst on ferry crossing the wind decided to pick up…and up…and up, by the time we got to Orkney it was blowing a b*****d! We met a couple a fine chaps, Ossy and Gary, who kindly offered to take Tam to camp site, (not mastered 3 on a bike yet!), so off they set in the nice warm comfort of a car leaving (not so) Silent Bob and I to tackle the crashing waves and drifting sands across the 3 causeways on the bike. Joy Joy!!! Later found out a bus had had its windows put in by the waves… confidence builder or what??? The roads as always were a pleasure to ride on and with the helpful wind found myself sampling both sides of it but we finally arrived at the usual site at the Brough of Birsay in one piece.
(not so) Silent Bob There were only 4 or 5 tents up when we arrived so we set about putting up ours. Jay had his up and pegged out in 10 minutes regardless of the gale blowing, while I fumbled and wrestled with my erection for at least an hour…before it broke. Bloody wind snapped my pole, ripped the inner ties and the ground sheet…great!!! But got there in the end after much fettling. Headed off for a cuppa, kindly supplied free – ‘my kinda price’ and to see if there were any familiar faces. Not much happening at this point. Most of Orkney B.C were in the kitchen cookin’ an’ cleanin’ an’ doin’ all manner of culinary things. There were bread getters, curry makers, pot scrapers, other scrapers, all sorts of mean an’ nasty lookin’ people doin’ weird an’ wonderful things. You can get anything you want at the Orkney B.C restaurant… Sorry ‘bout that, acid flashback, where was I?? Oh yeah, so……went for a wander down to the Brough of Birsay to watch the breakers crashing in, which were more spectacular than the last time I was there in ’04 because of the high winds.
Jay Enough sightseeing, time for beer quaffing, so headed back to camp. Neil and Peter, the last 2 of our dastardly group, had finally arrived off the later ferry and were struggling to put up their tents. “BEER” was the battlecry, tents were left to fend for themselves and the charge began!! The drinking began with gusto and looked like baby’s head was going to be well and truly pickled!! Those of you who are ale aficionados (beer buffs to you – (not so) Silent Bob!!) the a la booze menu boasted Scapa Special, Skullsplitter, Dark Island, Red McGregor, Northern Lights and St Magnus……….a fine fare it was…err…I think! A faint murmur from the front of the hall escalated to the fabled words of Cog…yes, that mysterious, dark warm drink of the Norse Gods. A double night of it…woohoo…….urrrgggg Cooooooooog *dribble*
(not so) Silent Bob Friday entertainment began with ceilidh style band “Shoot the Piper”, didn’t know any of the tunes but they were foot tappers and well received by all as usual, not overly loud so people could have a good blether and a laugh. It was good to see Nathan, Nigel, Bruce, Sam and other regulars. I think the band played till about 11pm then came “Bad Dog No Biscuit” covering everything from AC/DC to Metallica, Hank to Hendrix. Their first track was “There’s gonna be some rockin’” and they weren’t kidding either. Unfortunately I had rocked my last and was red carded off to bed.
Awoke around 8ish on Saturday. Tent still up…..bonus. Into the hall for a coffee and there found two young lads from Dounby wringing out their sleeping bags. Apparently they had arrived late on Friday, put up the tent and thought ‘‘Bugger the fly sheet….it ain’t rainin’’ I left them to it. Grabbing a coffee there were rumours that a band member of ‘Bad dog….’ Who shall remain nameless, had….it was said…. PISHED HIS PANTS. ‘snigger’.
Jay Was hoping to do a bit of sight seeing this time round, but ‘due to inclement weather’ (don’t them weather people speak real purty) had to settle for the bus into Kirkwall. This was, as last year, very welcome as it meant we could at least go out and…er…well shop and drink (wife lies awake at night and dreams of doing that). After gift shopping, admiring Danish tall ship in pishing rain, we all dived in to the Torvaugh (? Spelling) for top up on alcohol. Only pub I know where if a bar brawl breaks out, you can reach up for a sword, spear, shotgun or another murderous weapon from the rafters. 16:45 saw us walking back to the bus…or in one case, picked up and poured on, ready for another night of booze, bands and bawdiness.
(not so) Silent Bob Saturday nights sounds were supplied by the Birsay Boys and the Tribe. The Birsay Boys put in a fine performance, obviously not everybody’s cup of tea, but hey, you can’t please everyone. The Tribe followed doing some Kinks and Simon and Garfunkel covers, amongst many others, but truth be known, I was drinking Skullsplitter so everything’s a bit vague, sorry, but I do know they played well into the wee sma’ oors – 4.30am- according to Tam.
Jay All to soon its time for home. Yet again t’was a smite windy on the way to the ferry but by this time I had mastered the art of45 degree style of walking / riding (plenty of time studying Andrew “the puckled dancer” to get tips snigger). All on the ferry were looking a lot better than the green faces of last years voyagers. On arrival at Gill’s Bay, bikes where un-strapped, engines started and pillions on…and SV Wonky Donkey did its annual ‘sod you’ and blew its shocky out. Instantly I accuse (not so) Silent Bob of gaining in his portly girth, to wit he minds me that it had been on its way out for ages and that he is not portly but slim-line for a whale! (yeah, sure that’s why Lianne just gave you her maternity clothes!!) One slow, bouncy ride to Thurso to get (not so) Silent Bob to the car, off we head back home on the A9 this time, thankfully, with support car in toe. Small point…thick fog just after Inverness + white car with no fecking lights on = skid marks on road and pants…bloody idiot!!!
Note to Bruce… think that every single person requested that this not be the last Ravin, Mad Rally and I know that plenty of people offered to help in what ever way they could (special spot on for Team MCC for there offer…not often Bruce moved to emotional silence), so we hope that in a couple of years time (mind new hall being built so probably not on next year) we will be offered back to do another write-up of a ‘most excellent rally’. Special note to Bruce: Lianne says you’re an awfey nice man…thanks kiss kiss. Slurs and pictures by Jay and (not so) Silent Bob (aka Marty). (Trying to make sense of this write up and get it into some semblance of order, Al)
Seeing as I was offishully on holiday, I was havin’ a weekend off, so Sub-Ed Scooby stepped up to the breach to point the camera and try to remember what the hell went on….Al
Arriving in a very wet and rainy Scotland and the site was beginning to fill up fast. It was luverly to see so many friends at this one, and hugs
were in abundance!
Remember girlies, never trust a cowboy in gold hat….
It’s been a few years since I was last at this rally and it seems to have spread over more barns and out buildings than wot I remember. Which was great, cos MAG put on a blues area wiv funky candles and chilled oot atmosphere in one barn and rock muzic wiv room to jump aroond like loonies in another – I’ll leave it to your imagination where I spent most of my time!
So as more folk arrived the evening began to heat up and the full blown nonsense
so it continued:
sure if the Jiggy got me or it wiz the Turbo Vimto, but I really cannot
write words at this point. All I can say is thanks to whoever had ma camera,
here’s some foties:aa
so wot went on there then?!?! Well yeah the usual nonsense like I said.
And yup yiv guess it I’ve no idea who won wot trophies… well I can’t
be organised all the time, but I did find these foties:
I have to say the trophies at rallys these days just get better every time.
were other trophies, but folk were either in their kip or another barn
somewhere… oh and there wiz the youngest rally goer… who was a very
cute wee lass who was like grease lightening and managed to dart up to
the stage, grab her trophy and run away before I cud even press the ‘take
fotie button’ !!!
that cowboy just kept appearing…..aa
And Seth very kindly checked to make sure the Scooby Switch was definately
stuck on! He tried to turn it off but was forced to dance into the wee
small hours, even when the barn was empty and it was only us and the DJ
left! (Seth you are a total gentleman – thank you!)
The stalls were all really good and there was a big selection of ‘stuff’ to buy – I know cos ma beer fund suffered… good job Capt Morgans was already packed!
Met up wiv the luverly folk from Blackhawk Hearse too, had a good natter and a few beers.
Unfortunately my photography does not do the amazing trike and coach any justice, but visit their website for further information.
It is a thought… but one day I guess we’ll all need to go, so why not “go out in style” as Gordon would say. I know I certainly want to. I got some ‘arty’ shots of the band on Saturday nite, not quite up to the
Bikers1 quality that we all know and love, but I thought not half bad for a Scoobied Scoobs who’d been force fed Jiggy and Turbo Vimto !
A bit of a mixed up report, but a true reflection of my memory of it all! The fire was lit and the songs began, everyone huddled up and no-one with a care. Just glad of good company and great friends and all knowing that
each and every one of us will have a huge hangover in the morning…
Until the next time, hugs fae Scooby x
Thanks Scoobs, ah didn’t need tae remember a thing, just as well with all that turbo vimto about…Al