The oddly named “Ostris” is a rally and Egg Run held at Easter, which is quite a coincidence since “Ostris” is the historic Pagan name for Easter, I know what your thinking, now there’s a bit simulcra, no, er synchronicity , (isn’t simulcra where ye see the face of god in a plate of tripe, then charge folk to see it). The 15 previous incarnations were, the event formerly known as, Northumberland Bikers Egg Run. It has grown from being a run, into a run with some space for folk from further afield to camp, through to this, the first sort of ‘proper’ rally.
The previous site at the Bebside Inn was becoming too small and Lego were in the process of building ‘social incubation units’ on the other side of the road from the site, chances are there would be complaints about noise from the residents, well we might wake their 2.2 children.
Aside from this the run was becoming so popular that the road was becoming blocked by the queue of bikes waiting to move off. A new site had been located, however, over the piss wet winter it had been constantly flooded and had not seeded. For an alternative site the Council dusted the cobwebs off the old ‘Municipal’ Campsite, closed since the seventies, but hey, flares are back, why not 70’s campsites. Anyway , why don’t we have Municipal campsites in this country anymore ? , the French do, dumb ass question really , we all know the answer already.
I had a ‘first’ for fifteen years going to this rally, for reasons of red tape, structural engineer tossers = no workshop yet, I had to invest in another bike, indeed for the frst time in fifteen years I was behind a fairing ! I picked up an eBaytastic standard FJ to tide me over this rally season. Feels strange not being on a naked bike never mind it being standard. it’s all messing wiv me ‘ead. It’s appalingly easy to find yourself doing licence losing speeds without realising it, oh crap, I’ll have to pay attention to the speedo rather than just sensing the bending moment of me neck.
After avoiding the CFFA Cameras (Cash for f*ck all) which populate the A1 I arrived at Morpeth where by luck, or rather my inattention to navigation’s luck, I spied a familiar yellow framed matt (or is it satin) black GSX1100EFE coming out of the petrol station. T’was Donald, who ‘knew’ where he was going, result !. Well yes result, deciding to show off his new one off exhaust system we er, erm, would ‘made good time’ suffice as an appropriate euphamism, officer ? Sited a stone’s throw from Blyth beach, the new site was suitably secluded, so we could make lots of noise and not both anyone.
Friday nights marqueetastic entertainment was provided by the band whose name we cannot remember (I’m sure someone will remind me) followed by ‘Indepen…dence’, or is that ‘dance’, dunno, but folk did, in abundance. Also making an appearance was ‘Mr Tempermental’ the highly strung generator who tried his best to test the resolve of the band by tripping out with some regularity, I did see Gordon running round the back of the marquee with a 6lb mash hammer, it seemed to get the message and the party went on, and in a seasoned effort to show professional journalistic integrity I managed not to get shit faced until 11:30pm. woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo……………..wee white dot in middle of big black screen.
Awoken early by my extremely accurate Timex alarm vertebrae I brewed up and awaited the start of Egg run, which may have started early in some places as the sides of Donald’s tent appeared to balloon slightly now and again accompanied by low frequency parping noises akin to the sound of someone trying to start an old GT380 that was fitted with spannies. Thats Guiness and real ale for ye. Poor Allie.
Now this is no traditional Egg Run, no, far be it from this lot that it would be. This is an Egg ‘Collecting’ run where the run revolves around 450 bikes parading through Blyth to various pubs who had been collecting Eggs donated by the regulars and public for some time, some donating money, before the run began the Morpeth Round Table presented a cheque for £250.
The eggs are distributed on the Sunday to Hospitals, care homes, childrens homes etc between Ashington and Newcastle. This year there were around 4000 Eggs to distribute.
I have to say a big thanks to Archi and his missus Anne for taking the time to lead me round the route in advance of the run to getphotos, this meant a lot of standing about for them for long periods waiting for the run to arrive.
There was no support from the local Police this year in terms of bike cops to block junctions, (apparently it has to be a ‘memorial’ run), another constabulary’s bike cops offered to do it for nothing but were vetoed. Such is the state of the nation. Whilst we were on Blyth Main Street I was talking to some onlookers, they all without fail expressed ‘shock and disbelief’ (albeit in more flowery terms) at the stance of the local chief constable. Being it’s sixteenth run out, the Egg run is well supported by the local population, after all it is in a good cause.
Despite Gordons stoic efforts to keep the run together it was inevitable that it would become fragmented and traffic lights and junctions had to be obeyed. Nevertheless, all the eggs were collected, Gordon and the other marshalls retained most of what sanity they had and so it was time to party.
I stopped of at the ‘National Chippy award’ winning Chippy (well it would’ve been just wierd if it had been a Butchers) for some grub, the entertainment was provided outside by drunken teenagers about to have their heads removed at the shoulders as they poked and prodded a chop which was quietly waiting for it’s rider to finish his cod and chips, while I remember ‘What is it with these mushy peas man.
Fed and watered is was time to be entertained by ‘Forgotten Roots’ a young punky band and ‘Full metal Racket’ rolling out the AC/DC for the crowd. Maggie and Phil arrived from East Yorks for saturday’s do, In between the real ales on sale much cheaply provided by Dave from the Northumberland Brewery, Phil concoted some old recipe which left a permament grin on my chops for the rest of the evening, cheers mate. Council rules stated that the live music had to end at midnight, dunno exactly when the party stopped but it wasn’t midnight.
I should add that Skida’s tireless efforts to find a suitable virgin on which to sacrifice himself paid off, the weather gods were most pleased, a sunny and bright easter weekend, now there’s a rarity. I even got sunburnt, but hey I get sunburnt lighting a roll-up.
Game over till next year, cheers you lot and everyone who chipped in to help, a great weekend. Words & Pics and complete disregard for the spell-checker by 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