WIMA National Rally 1999
For you that don't know WIMA is the Women's International Motorcycling Association and surprisingly enough consists of women who ride bikes. If you want to know more have a look at their website on WIMA. Anyway the girlfriend is one of these reprobates so I was allowed to the event.
Friday Night
Finish a hard day at work, collect the bike from it's service then onto the
dreaded A1 for a 180 mile journey, A1, M18 and M1 are enough to drive anyone to
distraction. It's dull and cloudy when I leave Darlington but get gradually
brighter as head south. Eventually I reach junction 20 and find myself of a
gorgeous A road for the final few miles to Market Harbour, which cheers me up no
end.
I arrive on the site at about 10:00 feeling suitably exhilarated, give
the bike a big handful as I stop, get off grinning and straight into the bar.
Lindsey is getting me a pint as I walk through the door, we have a hug and a
huge groan of disgust rises from the Northern WIMA contingent.
The first
one hardly touches the sides.

... daaaaance, boogie wunderlaaaaaand ...
The rest of the evening is brilliant, the disco is playing some real good rock, including requests if asked for (always a good sign with a disco) which soon has plenty of people up and bopping about. Mother Superior, aka Bev, is, of course, in the middle of it all, even though a woman of her age should, by now, be settling down, sitting in the corner supping a half stout and saying things like "speak up, I'm almost deaf yer know", "Eee when I where a lass" and rambling on about the war. The first one that is. Granny Sue is up doing her, slightly scary, thing while Jas, her other half and one of the few other males present, keeps me entertained.

Jas and Granny Sue looking sophisticated
Saturday
Ohmigod is it hot. Lindsey and me are both woken up by the furnace like
interior of our tent and are forced out into the world bleary eyed and in dire
need of coffee. The sun is shining and the sky is blue so after breakfast we go
for a ride, but it's really too hot to wear leathers and I'm fretting about my
brakes so we head back to the site by mid afternoon. Shame really because there
are some brilliant quiet back roads in the area.
As we're leaving Jane and
Neil turn up, the gang is now all here.
I spend the afternoon getting
sunstroke and fiddling with my brakes which ain't as sharp as I would like. By
about 4:00 it's all too much and I give into the temptation to have a beer.
Lindsey then gets Jas and me to have a look at her bike which is making a
mysterious "ticking" noise, this keeps us innocently entertained for a
while - for those who are interested it's eventually traced to a worn pin in the
right
By the time we get to the bar we're already half cut.

Cum to Bedlam - A comedy rock band
Why am I
reminded of Spinal Tap?
Saturday is the big night and WIMA have booked a comedy rock band called "Cum
to Bedlam". Unfortunately they don't get on stage till about 11:00 by which
time everything is getting a bit vague with me. I can remember Jas and me
discussing the band in detail but due to our wasted condition the exact points
made now escape me...
But they knew how to play, very good level of
musicianship - but there again, musically, I'm "parc" as in "obrut".
Unfortunately the routine was just too rehearsed and lacked spontaneity and
grated a bit on me, I'd rather have seen them play it straight. Apparently the
singer was running about in the second set with his tackle hanging out.
The
girls seemed to enjoy the show - I wonder why! - but I retired before the second
set set cos I could no longer talk.
Like they said a comedy rock band. Nuff
said.
Sunday
Today the sun has gone, the clouds have returned and it's cold. After breakfast we slob about in the quiet room and watch Foggy win (again) and Haga crash (again). By midday Lindsey and me are feeling in need of some entertainment so decide to go out and find a pub for lunch. Just outside Market harbour in the A50whatever we find a good one, the food is brilliant and we start to perk up. We then go for a thrash up to the motorway and back which makes us feel even better.

Neil (balding) and Jane (protruding). both pissed and wobbling.
By the time we get back to the site it's time for the AGM, the girls all
disappear inside and we're kicked out. They are now watching rugby on the box so
Jas and I head to the tent to get wasted. After a while Neil turns up
complaining his beer is too cold and joins the party.
The hours pass...
Occasionally one of the girls comes out of the meeting, seething about one
thing or another and has a smoke - no smoking in the AGM - then returns to the
fray. We three try and work out what they can possibly find to talk about for so
long. We eventually conclude nobody is telling anybody else to fuck off - an
essential ingredient for the fair and rational exchange of ideas - and that we
could have done it in half the time although the odd punch might have to be
swung to emphasise some point or other.
We have decided to volunteer to
chair the meeting next year armed only with a crate of beer and a water pistol
each.
Later we start to dread the blow by blow account we're liable to get
of the event. Shudders of terror are appeased with more beer...
By the time the meeting finishes we're in a pretty sorry state and although I make it to the bar I'm zedding away long before the bar closes.
Monday

It's time to pack up and go home
Lindsey was very
brave about it and didn't cry at all.
The end of a brilliant weekend. The sun comes out again and Lindsey and me take the backroads back to Sheffield. The final blast into the Peak District - I'm not telling you which road cos you'll all want to play with it - is wonderful even if I did nearly ride into the back of a Fiesta doing their famous "slow, manoeuvre, indicate" routine. I stopped in time although the back end was locking up and sliding all over the place, lord knows what the man in the Audi I'd just smugly blasted past thought of me. "Wanker" possibly.
So there you go, one brilliant weekend. Superb site, big turnout, good entertainment and a healthy profit in the WIMA kitty at the end of it.
So a big "Ta very much" to:-