I can now admit that the BMF at Peterborough in May this year was my first bike rally with the club. However it was my husband Neal's virgin rally. Going to the BMF reminded me what I missed most about being a biker, having the chance to share a few days out of your life with other members of the club all living together within a small, but significant community. Free from the responsibilities of everyday life, sharing a common bond in motorcycles, tents, beer, for us nightbreeds a love of tradition and - it soon became apparent - we all grew to hate the "Belgiums".
Having got withdrawal symptoms I headed out on Sunday, kids in tow, to the Hop Farm at Paddock Wood. After being mugged at the gate and given little pink round discs to be worn as proof of said mugging, we passed by the stables to join in the fun. Bumping into Big Dave (V-Max) with his kids, they were leaving, stopping only to say that last year's show was better due to 90 degree heat in the sunshine, the Wall of Death and teenage-size quadbikes.
Undeterred by the ever darkening sky we toured the stalls, sat and watched stunts performed in the arena, waited patiently on the promise from the commentary box of an air display. The waiting as usual ended up in the beer tent; just in time to hear Havoc play their last set of the day, after which a large man in a baseball cap, traditionally known as "You Fat Bastard!", began to clear away equipment starting with the front spot lamps. After several beers and once the ringing in my ears from Havoc's performance had stopped, we headed out to see the air display.
We then came across a black trailer containing the DJ, in the shape of the same "Fat Bastard" who informed me he was on a diet and had already lost a stone, but then revealed where the nickname had been acquired. After a "friend" asked if he would DJ at a local biker rally, he was approached by the BMF to play at a Peterborough rally. The only advice they gave him was: don't make eye contact with anyone, duck when the beer cans start flying and don't show any fear when up on stage.
At first when he appeared on stage there was a deathly hush, but as he played his first record someone from the audience threw a beer can on stage and yelled "Get off you fat bastard!" Determined not to show fear the DJ looked around the stage and yelled back "What fat bastard?" Several beer cans hit the stage with another chorus of "You fat bastard" as the DJ put the next record on, so he took his shirt off and told the crowd "I'm a fat bastard... but I'm not leaving the stage!". After a rainstorm of beer cans and more abuse the audience surrendered to their fate.
Now "You fat bastard" is part of the BMF tradition all over the UK and his thanks goes to www.bikersweb.co.uk for releasing photos of his naked beer gut on the Internet, now giving him a following of fans in other parts of the world. He also DJs for car rallies and lorry rallies but admits that there isn't any audience participation like the biker rallies. What he enjoyed about coming to the Hop Farm was the luxury of sleeping at his parent's house in Welling, Kent, after four weeks of touring and sleeping in the trailer.