Shittin' Bricks Rally

Concluding the triple report from Phil the Spill covering the Drunken Dragon, Simmer Dim and Shitting Bricks rallies in 1992. We left Phil as he travelled south with his new tent. Read on...

                   

- Phil the Spill

On the trip down I stopped at Kinross services again, this time for lunch, where I met another rallyist who was just finishing his, and managed to persuade him to buy a copy of my videos for the last two SDRs, which paid for my lunch.

I got to Lauder in good time, having even decided to go through the centre of Edinburgh as I was enjoying myself so much, and found the campsite easily enough, and set up my brand new tent. It was far bigger than I thought it would be, (and heavier), but quite easy to put up.

On Tuesday we set off for Wasdale Head in the Lake District. The only reason the others had not gone straight there is that John's BSA (M20) wouldn't have made it. There is a National Trust campsite on the shore of Wast Water, and a Theakston pub at the end of the road, which is well within staggering distance.

We stayed here for a couple of days, using it as a base for our trips out. One day we went to Sellafield and the other we went over (in my opinion) the best bits of road in the country, that is the Hardknott, Wrynose and Blea Tarn passes. If you like 30% (1 in 3) hills with hairpin bends all the way up and down then you should try them some day.

The next stage of our journey, on Thursday, took us down to Richmond in Yorkshire, where there is a campsite owner we know who even provided references one year in case we met any biker-unfriendly campsite owners on our meanderings. I found out during the week that the rally I had intended to go to had been cancelled. I had a phone number to ring for my second choice, which turned out to be a misprint (blame Back Street Heroes magazine), and I can imagine this little old lady getting all these obscene phone calls from bikers. (Obscene due to the name of this other rally). One of the organisers had obviously realised what would be happening and supplied her with the right number to ring. Being the nice polite person I am, I never actually mentioned its name over the phone.

Part 5 - Was it really called that?

3rd Shitting Bricks Rally 26th-28th June 1992

Yes, it was called that! The badge was quite nice, if a bit obvious.

The rally is run by the Thick as a Brick MCC (some Jethro Tull fans there?), and usually sited next to a stream, in case of first rallyists. This club makes their own first rallyists wear building-site-type hard-hats, with holes in the tops and funnels attached. Anybody passing by is invited to pour whatever he or she like into this.

With the weather being as hot as it was, people actually liked being thrown into the stream. Some jumped in of their own accord, first rally or not.

On Saturday, after a slow start (queuing up for breakfast took over an hour!) the LUNI MCC (Leeds UNIversity) decided to go on a run out, so I went with them. They thought 20% (1 in 5) hills would be a challenge (ho ho ho). We had quite a nice time as it turns out, we found a stream, which was much cleaner than the one back at the rally (not difficult!), and would have stopped for lunch at a nearby pub, if said pub had not recently stopped doing them (allegedly).

Back at the site the games were about to start, the most fun to watch being the jousting, (difficult to describe, you had to be there).

After the games, more people jumped/were thrown into the stream much to the surprise of some cows grazing by the side of it. I left when I realised I was the only one there still dry, and quickly wandered over to the pub, where a group of people were cheating at human pyramid building by using a fence for support.

I was pleasantly surprised during the prize giving as I won long distance! (From Yorkshire!)

The room they had for the disco was small, hot, and bar-less, so most of us just sprawled about the pub garden. Unfortunately the pub had not got an extension, so everything had to shut down very soon after eleven. Even the outdoor lights went out, which made finding our tents a bit awkward, as there was no moon that night. The only light available was from the bonfire, (why, even in the middle of summer, do we insist on having bonfires?), which was soon being walked through by people of a Welsh disposition.

Sunday, we might have guessed, was another sunny one (yawn). This made the packing of the tent a bit tiring, but the run back was superb. The last time I won long distance after Shetland (Carlisle to Hastings), I managed to blow up the gearbox on that bike, get it replaced and write it off all within one month. Nothing like that happened this year, but I did find out that my bike gets very thirsty when the speed is up into three figures, which I managed to keep up almost the entire length of the M40.

I'm always sorry when my holiday comes to an end, especially when I realise I'm back to work as usual the very next day, but that is what pays for the holiday, and at least my bike gets a rest, (until next time)

Part 6 - The End

What - already? Oh alright then, if you insist, but I warn you - I'll be back!

- Phil (the Spill) Drackley