Very trick Speed Triple

Photo: Dave Jackson

Casual chap on the Rocket III

Photo: Dave Jackson

Ayd's T-shirt emporium

Photo: Dave Jackson

The weather started off good with sunshine, but as I got on with loading the bike the skies darkened and before I knew it, it was raining and then hail was pinging off the ground! At least it was not long before it eased off to drizzle that could be kept at bay by waterproofs allowing me to set off for the ESSO garage to meet Phil and Martin, the latter having opted to drive up in his van. We stopped at the Silver Ball café (which for the record is at Reed on the A10, south of Royston) for a good old nosh and, in view of the probable congestion on the way, agreed to meet at the service station just outside the East of England showground itself. Due to some slight confusion Phil and I didn't actually see Martin until we caught him up in a bloody great queue of cars and bikes circumnavigating the perimeter of the site, all in aid of getting to the wristband exchange, which was effectively outside of the camping areas.
Every time I go myself the arrangements seem to have changed and this time the bike entrance had been moved to the middle of what looked like a quiet residential estate. They must have loved it, especially on the Saturday and Sunday with day visitors pouring in.
We spotted Clive and Helen through the fence in one of the camping areas and met up with Dave Clarke in the queue as well. Once we had got the required wristbands we then had to work out which direction to go in so that we would have a chance of finding the others. By luck we achieved that simply by going straight ahead and right over to the other side of the site, on the other side of the fence where we came in. There was a fair amount of room and we weren't too close to the entertainment. Martin however found that he wasn't allowed to bring his van in but, not realising, I blithely gave him directions over Dave's mobile phone on where to go without realising he had to carry his gear from outside.
Graham and some mates were coming along later so we got on with putting the tents up and contemplating the start time of the bands. After a while curiosity and thirst prevailed and we went over to the marquee. There were actually three bars, all in a row next to the main tent. Luckily the weather was good otherwise it would have been a damp business getting a drink.
First up were a band called "Beholden" and if you think that sounds a bit Tolkien-esque, you might be right. They were heavy and they were serious, at least until they launched into "You're The One That I Want" which they mercifully counterbalanced with an attempt at "Killing In The Name".
In a lighter vein, they were followed by Hooker, featuring a frontman who can only be described as Dermot O'Leary in a Guantanamo Bay orange jump-suit (apologies to readers who have not watched Big Brother for a few years). Still they knocked out a creditable version of Van Halen's "Jump" along the way as we got the beers in - literally bearing in mind where the bars were.
The traditional BMF sport of pole-climbing was practised with varying degrees of proficiency, including a couple of athletic chaps in decorative willy-warmers and not much else. All this despite the compere's introductory warning that the health and safety wallahs might pull the plug on the whole entertainment were people to risk their necks in such a fashion.
Saturday dawned fine and sunny so it was off to gate 16 to get in to the show. All the usual manufacturers were there, Triumph again fielded a rather low-key stand but did offer the chance to sit on a Rocket III. As it was firmly anchored in an upright position however, it was not possible to feel the all-important weight distribution and comparing it with other jumbo cruisers did not reveal a great difference in seating position.
The offerings of free promotional goodies seemed a little down on last year; despite some eagle (well, maybe more like bleary) -eyed observations on my part I only came away with a free Motorcycle News key fob made out of Early Learning Centre soft rubber, although I was later told that had I ventured up to Carole Nash's elevated enquiry desk I could have snaffled a sidestand puck.
On the way to Ayd's t-shirt stall I bumped in to him and Chris Holland so we grabbed some refreshments before heading back to their spot opposite the Kawasaki stand, where I was able to brief them on the previous evening's entertainment as they and their respective families were all dependant on traders' passes and they had declined to pay extra for admission to the jollities.
As ever the sheer size of the event made getting disoriented easy and finding a particular stall a second time less so. I spotted the official representatives of R&G Racing and pondered buying some of their frame protectors but couldn't make up my mind on the spot. It was then a good hour of wandering on the Sunday before I tracked them down again and forked over my £54, only to find when I got home later that day that the kit was missing a spacer, but that's another story really.
So, Saturday wore on and at the Bennetts insurance stand I spotted a very trick Speed Triple to which had been applied just about everything you could - underseat exhaust, polished frame and wheels, carbon fibre goodies and what I'm pretty sure was a turbocharger. Nice.
I took lots of photos and stood long enough watching the moped endurance race at close quarters that my fancy digital camera got covered in red dust from the track. Still it kept going which was fortunate.
Back at the camping area, Bob and Lizzie had joined us having ridden up that morning. The evening's entertainment was very similar, starting with a beat combo (no pun intended) called, I think, The Victims. Of what I couldn't be quite sure but they sounded all right. Coming on next were Strangers, or The Strangers, not to be confused with The Stranglers. They aimed high and just about made it with covers of Bohemian Rhapsody and I do believe the full version of Bat Out Of Hell.
Last up were a feisty four-piece whose name escapes me but I'll not forget their brightly-coloured, Carnaby Street-style bandsmen's jackets in a hurry. They launched into a set of power pop classics but my energy levels were getting low by that point so I retired to my tent well before the disappointingly-early call for last orders.
Sunday is always a bit of a challenge after two evenings of music and beer and a day of looking around, especially as the crowds are usually bigger than Saturday. I found the R&G stall as previously mentioned, paid another visit to Ayd's t-shirt emporium and then started contemplating a mid-day getaway, which eventually happened at about 1 p.m. Time, rather than nutrition, being most important at that point I headed straight down the A1 and was home in a couple of hours pondering the fact that for every 24 hours my tent stands in a field at a rally it probably gets a couple of hours on the patio drying off, weather permitting.