Easter weekend is not the first date you'd necessarily pick to hold a rally but by the time I got to the Old Elthamians Rugby Club at about 6 p.m. on the Friday the camping area next to the pitches was filling up nicely. I signed in and recorded my distance travelled, all four miles of it - nothing like being local. Then it was straight to finding a vacant spot and getting my tent up, during which Tank and Shelley strolled over to prove that I'd failed to spot Tank's outfit just a few yards along the next row.
The Munchies food trailer, last seen at the last Concorde Rally, was already serving up food and the bar was open. There was a Broadway Leathers key fob in the welcome pack so I was not exactly surprised to see Mark and Lorraine there running a stall with a good selection of their clothing, accessories and memorabilia. It turned out to be rather chilly work for them at times as the sunshine from earlier in the day (during which I had cleaned one car and two bikes, but that's becoming a Good Friday ritual for me it seems) gave way to cloud, a stiff breeze across the grounds and the occasional threat of rain.
Friday evening panned out into the expected mix of bands and beer. Being a rugby club there was a good selection of quality real ale at competitive prices. Music-wise, 90% Proof served up their usual rock-solid selection of, er... rock. How they can keep it up for nearly two hours with barely a pause to draw breath is a source of amazement to me, but apparently that's the way they like it and who am I to complain? Then it was back to the tent and a sudden realization that it really wasn't that warm. Removing much clothing did not seem to be a good idea and I was reminded of the first night at the Trumpettreffen last year - although at no time did it get quite as teeth-chattering as that and I'm sure it pales into insignificance compared to Shelley's recent experience at the aptly- named Brass Monkey rally.
Next morning saw a leisurely start but I did have one mission to accomplish, namely buying a new alarm fob battery for my Speed Triple which had resolutely resisted all attempts to deactivate the alarm the day before, hence I was on the Trident. As I reckoned the nearest vendor of odd-sized batteries was probably the new Maplin store which has just opened on the Cliftons roundabout this also provided a good excuse to call in at home and swap a couple of items of clothing for warmer alternatives. With that done and the Speed Triple alarm now working there was time for a ride around before returning to the rally site. I contemplated a change of bike (oh, the luxury of having more than one eh?) but then decided against having to explain it on the gate.
Back at the site there was a call for volunteers for the silly games but I was not feeling suitably energetic so they had to manage without me. The organizers had opted to take a bite out of their potential profits by booking a total of three bands for the weekend, but the second of these, Symbiotic, who were to start the Saturday night proceedings were scheduled rather early, coming on as they did at around 7 p.m. when some people like myself were thinking more of food. Still the audience increased steadily throughout their set of (I think) mostly original, Pearl Jam-style songs and they went down pretty well.
Coming after them were Hogwash, billed as a glam rock covers band. From my researches they may have been familiar to those who went to the BMF last year. Despite the less-than-inspiring name I can safely say that they were excellent in all other respects. By the time they hit the stage several other Bexley faces had turned up just for the evening: Lee and Tracey, Andy and Lee, Bob and Rose and those are just the ones I can remember (and apologies to anyone I left out). Hogwash played two sets of all the glam classics with the vocalist (huge afto wig on head) doing a very credible impression of Noddy Holder's voice as required. I'd love to know how the bass player (in a shocking pink fright wig) managed his high-pitched backing vocals without the use of electronics, surgery or helium gas, though. To further enhance their appeal the guitarist (large floppy top hat) was a good visual and musical match for Marc Bolan.
Much bopping and beer later the raffle had been drawn, the distance prizes handed out and the campers were heading back to their tents while the evening-only revelers were heading for home. Sunday morning saw everybody packing up and many, like myself, probably scooting off to a family get-together of one sort or another. All in all a good little rally, an unexpectedly good way to start the long Easter weekend and a minimal expenditure on my part for petrol to get there.