Sweed' Bashers Rally
16 October 1981 by the 71 MCC
Why Sweed? What is the apostrophe for? The reasons are lost in history.
- Phil the Spill
The rally was held next to a cafe/pub/night club on the road from Dorchester to Yeovil. I'm not sure if the organisers were pleased that pretty much all the attendees spent their night in the club rather than the marquee, but it was cold and wet outside and there was beer, food and music in the cafe, so that's where we stayed.
On Saturday the rain seemed to lessen a bit and the games proceeded, the fairly long grass making the tug-of-war a little difficult for both sides.
We were told that we would not be welcome in the cafe, (whether or not that was true is unknown), so we kept in the marquee that night.
It felt a lot better in our natural environment, where we could relax, lark about and not worry about upsetting regulars in the pub. It was welcome, though, that we were still allowed to use their loos!
- Phil (the Spill) Drackley
Sweed' bashers rally in 1981 was held around the Black Cat cafe. I remember it well, a great event.
Sweed' bashers 1981 was a blisteringly hot day on Saturday as my grey cells recollect. A large fire was burning in the field nearish to the entertainment tent, as the temperatures were dropping. Everything was bone dry for a change.
Around midnight I decided to go for a blast on the Bill Roberts faired CB400F2 and set off towards Dorch. Not far into the ride, in the moonlight, I saw a left turning with a long downhill road so turned off down there and screwed the nuts off the 416cc four getting right up near the magic ton up. In the glare of the Cibie headlamp there looked like a damp bit at the bottom of the dip so I rolled off before the uphill climb started. I was a tad surprised to stop a few feet after the dip without touching the brakes due to hitting a large ford. I was suitably soaked as the deluge of water stopped the bike and came flooding over the fairing onto me.
Suitably chastised I slowlyish made my way back to the rally site and stood by the fire dripping away and subsequently steaming with the heat, the bike nearby still dripping wet. No one asked how I had got so wet and I didn't offer any explanation. Plenty of people looked suitably surprised.
The lovely Phil Northway diverted on the ride back to Hampshire to take us through a Ford for posterity, the twat.
- Gordon Mackenzie