Solent Rally

4th September 1987 - Solent MCC

I was getting used to finding the wood, not far from Fareham, Hants, that concealed the 18th Solent Rally from the general population. In fact, I managed to get there before they had installed their 'modest' generator. I have never seen one of such a size. I think it was mostly silencing, though, as there were a couple of houses nearby, and the size of the site meant it had to be quite close to the marquee as well. Once the organisers had worked out the controls, it was certainly quiet enough so we could hear the music and powerful enough to supply the disco and lights all weekend. (I wouldn't be surprised if they used it for the kitchen as well.)

Friday night went well, with far more women than usual wishing to expose themselves. It must have been the weather.

On the Saturday, after a restful morning, unless you went for a ride to somewhere of interest, were the games, such as they were in the very restricted space available. No throwing was possible, but you could just about fit in a tug-of-war in the gaps between tents.

A few more rally virgins were abused in the run-up to the evening session, and so it began.

The wet t-shirt competition was well- contested, (although I don't recall many actually getting wet), the organisers even supplying some of the contestants, including the other half of one of their members who was in the police. I had an idea she was well used to the contest, as she rapidly removed almost all her clothing, as she did in the other rallies at which I saw her. I'm not sure whether she won or not, or she just did it to encourage the others!

Much drunken revelry ensued, as you may have guessed. A little later the police wife was seen in a bad mood. Apparently her husband was annoyed because she hadn't been photographed naked enough, so I quickly obliged.

There were no bonfires that night, as there wasn't really enough room, and it was a very warm night, so we just drifted off to our beds.

The Sunday was still hot, so it was a pleasant ride home, after a quick bite, (if required), through the lanes of Hampshire until we managed to find a main road going somewhere useful.

- Phil (the Spill) Drackley