14th June 1991 W.A.R.P.E.D. MCC
For the first stage of this year's fortnight of filth holiday, I had picked W.A.R.P.E.D.M.C.C.'s Davylad Rally. W.A.R.P.E.D. stands for, (deep breath), the Wirral Association of Riders, Pillions, Extraterrestrials and Dwarves, (of course it does!)
This was held on the grounds of the Leasowe Football & Rugby Club, on the outskirts of Birkenhead. I was joined on this 209 mile stage of the trip by Charlie Cobbe, (He has a skip for a gob) [RIP], who lived not far from me, and was a member of the same bike club as my landlord & landlady (7sMCC).
It is probably a good thing that the festivities were held in the clubhouse, rather than a marquee, as we were surrounded by a housing estate and there would have been (more) complaints about the noise. I'm pretty sure that enough members of the bike club were also members of the football or rugby clubs to ensure that no damage was caused to the building or fittings. We weren't allowed to take our bikes onto the grass where we were camped, of course, but the hard standing was not very far away, so nobody minded this.
Friday's festivities went down well, with Charlie acquitting himself well in the eating cornflakes with chopsticks contest!
Puker and Miriam turned up during Saturday, which was a relief as I was doing the next stretch North with them. Bubbles [RIP], from Southampton, was also going with us. The games were suitably strenuous. The game that took longest was a timed one, with each team participating on their own. Two people stand back to back, then have their legs tied together, then they have to run to a pole, round that a few times, then run to another and do it again, then back to the start. It all becomes clear if you check out the video.
Later on, back in the clubhouse, the drinking competition involved some noxious-looking substance and a straw, (with hands behind backs) and there was a lot of shaving foam thrown around for a while as well. In the absence of a wet t-shirt competition, Miriam did her usual display anyway, and the party carried on into the small hours. I was particularly involved with the video game that the club had.
Come Sunday, the packing up only took a little extra time as people had to carry stuff over to their bikes, but it was done, and more than a few bikes had rather a lot of luggage, so they were probably going somewhere afterwards as well. Our 'afterwards' was a trip to the home of a man named Horse. Puker and Miriam, myself and Bubbles set off for Edinburgh, where Horse lived, with a detour to Lancaster College, as Miriam felt the need to change clothes and pick some stuff up from her digs. (This has always been the problem with hooking up with partners at rallies - they could live anywhere in the country.) Taking in the detour, the 230-mile trip took most of the day, as we were beset by bad weather, despite the wonderfully bright start. We realised, once we arrived in Edinburgh, that we didn't know our way to the house, even though we eventually found the garage our bikes were going to rest in, and Horse wasn't about when we got there.
To be continued...
- Phil (the Spill) Drackley