6th Prowlers Party 3rd October 1986 - Prowlers BC
Despite the time of year, this was a lovely sunny weekend, in the area that the Prowlers usually used for their 'parties' and Highland Fling Rallies, not far from the M25/A41 interchange. It was cold enough for many of us to keep our jackets on in the marquee for most of Friday night.
On Saturday, a brief wander about the field revealed some exotic machinery, namely a fully restored Indian and a wonderful condition Vincent, along with some less than exotic lumps of rust on wheels.
At some point in the morning, or it could have been afternoon, on guy was just poking his head out of his tent after the night's excesses, complaining about how bad throwing up tasted. I passed on one of the pearls of wisdom I have, which I promote with no checking as to their veracity. "Orange juice tastes the same on the way out as the way in, so drink some of that last. " He snarled at me a little, before rushing to the loo tent.
Some cars were permitted, by arrangement, and one clubs chosen group transport was a hearse. I somehow think parking it next to the St John's Ambulance was a bit in bad taste. The Ambulance was there because one or more of the Prowlers had contacts in the organisation, and it was felt that, since people tended to throw themselves into the games with such abandon, (and drank heavily), an insurance get-out may be useful.
The games were very popular and, in fact, nobody got hurt this year. Some hours later, after the disco had been going for a while, and while the band were setting up, they held the eating & drinking contests, in which Charlie Cobbe probably acquitted himself well, although memory fails to confirm whether or not he won a prize.
The main band was, again, Ivors Jivers, led by TVs 'Doc Cox', and they went down well, as usual.
Also going down well in the interval was the dry t-shirt contest, (water never seems to be necessary at some rallies), for which the participants are given printed shirts. Although there were a few other girls on stage, who were not unattractive, the Twits MCC T-shirt Squad was out in force and easily won any contest that would be decided by howling males. Following this, some of the aforementioned males decided everyone wanted to see their backsides. Each to their own, I suppose.
The band then recommenced and we rocked on for the rest of the night, before crawling off to our tents in the fairly frosty air.
Sunday morning was still sunny, yet chilly and a bit of a mist was about the field. The heavy drinker nearby, extracted himself from his temporary abode and thanked me for the advice regarding the orange juice. Apparently it works! I made a mental note that this one was now proved, and continued packing up my gear for a not unpleasant ride home.
- Phil (the Spill) Drackley