After two weeks of blazing sunshine and mid 20's temperature I set off to work on a fully loaded bike in the rain and the cold. Humbug.
Through the morning the downpour continues and I slave away at the usual exciting stuff awaiting my chance to escape.
After lunch the weather starts to improve and my spirits rise. Having done plenty of overtime this week I take a flier around 3:15 and head off to meet Stevie. Still no message from Lindsey, who was heading down with the WIMA girls, so we set off and plan to check for messages at Helmsley.
Stokesley to Helmsley is still awesome but due to the increased police presence (in itself due to the amount of fuckwits treating it as a racetrack and crashing) we take it steady. OK steady-ish then.
Helmsley. Nice little place.
Hard to believe they not only allow us lot in but positively welcome us.
We stop off in Helmsley and there is still no word (or in this case text) from she-who-must-be-obeyed and I start to fret slightly. She has the tent! Still nothing for it so off we go and get directed onto the site the wrong way!!! Looks like everyone has come down early to escape the rush. The queue to the main gate stretches up the road for about a mile so the police have said to use the "out" route till the backlog is cleared.
It's a long slow creep down to the field and by the time we reach the gate the BM is showing far too many bars on the temperature gauge. Then a text, my tent has made it safely. Oh yes, and my little ray of sunshine too.
Soon we parked up and then landlocked by the amount of people coming in. Everyone it seems is here; assorted WIMAs, a good collection of the Darlington contingent (known to the judiciary throughout the land as the "Bowes Winos") and assorted others. Top marks to young Michael as well for having the guts to come to a bike rally on his scooter - it's a long haul for 100ccs.
The most ridiculous hairstyle on site sported by The Motoidiot Himswlf
The party starts as soon as I've unpacked. And this is where the narrative gets complicated - there is so much I could tell you but due to the potential threat of legal action, the attention span of a 4 year old (or a drummer) and the memory capacity of a goldfish I settle for a simple "cheers bud" to; Shaggy, Redbull, Carling, The Pasty Man and MAG more or less in that order.
The first band I see are doing a load bluegrass country stuff, bit weird for a bike rally but it seems to go down well and best of all you can not only hear it but also talk over it.
Smiley happy Winos (and friends)
The main band start playing a load of Pink Floyd - good start I think, then I realise they are another tribute band so that's all we're going to get. So no boogying for me tonight then, guess I'll just have to settle for another for beer.
I miss the main entertainment, from what I understand it consisted Mikeyj, George and Denzil firebreathing. Or in Denzil's case spontaneously combusting. This was followed by a trip to see the nurse.
We wake up to the gentle patter of raindrops on the tents. "Bollox" I say to myself before launching into the usual rally morning checklist of my facilities and a quick search for any embarrassing memories from the night before. I appear to have all my faculties, no embarrassing memories nor even much of a hangover.
Someone has obviously picked up my hangover and embarrassment by mistake, which could be interesting. Can you be racked with guilt for something you know you definitely did not do? To someone you have never even heard of? Whilst suffering a godawful hangover for drinking nothing?
All this mental ruminating gets me out of the sleeping bag, into my jeans (suspiciously muddy), and onto my first coffee of the day by which time the rains have stopped.
A walk to the site shop for some milk drags up a memory that might explain the muddy jeans, muddy jackets and muddy fingernails although not the lack of hangover.
Giddy sniffs his bike.
Strange lad our Giddy...
Later having managed such technical exercises as "waking the woman without getting snarled at" and "making egg butties without making a mess" Lindsey decides I need a walk to off we trot to Helmsley. There been absolutely no chance of getting our bikes due to the proliferation of tents. Well yes I could have got the GS out by the simple expedient to pointing it in the right direction and riding over anything non metallic in the way. But it would have upset many people in the process who would I'm sure want to discuss it at a later date, possibly while simultaneously jumping up and down on my nether regions.
So a walk it is then. Lindsey, Emma and myself - plus many more but I don't know them - along the muddy track, through the fields and along by the riverbank. Mole and Ratty where not to be seen as they had decided to spend the day in Mole's hole surfing the net for porn and sending out emails advertising cut price viagra.
The town is full of happy thirsty bikers but we do the tourist bit and wander about looking in shops and generally seen bit of Helmsley I've never looked at before. We find Steve in the square looking lost and in a fit of pity drag him off with us to a cafe before the gentleman with the large 'tache became to enamoured of young Stevie's lace up leather jeans.
Beer is also bought, 18 cans for £9 proved a bargain I could not resist. A small voice in the back of my mind was screaming something about me not been able to drink that much in one sitting. Cautiously I ignored it.
On the walk back we see some sheep racing about confusing everybody including themselves, fortunately for all concerned they don't break into the rally field.
Highly trained police "sniffer" sheep round up some likely
suspects
Although by day two of a rally a highly developed sense of smell carries it's
own hazards
Emma goes off in search of a pillow (don't ask) so we head back to the tent for a beer. We get there just before the rains start again in earnest.
It's getting drastic, Lindsey has gone to sleep and Stevie and I are in danger of getting utterly wrecked before teatime. The rains must be stopped, I suspect it's my mirrored visor, Stevie poo-poos the idea but not long after the shiny one is stashed back in it's sock the sun comes back out. Oh yea of little faith.
So we wander over to catch up with that fuddled collection of impulses know as the Winos.
Denzil is now sporting two burned and bandaged fingers and a slight look of embarrassment brought on by having a staring roll in Andy's new home video. If it makes it to the web I'll add a link.
The rains start again so we all scuttle off to the rave tent (pre-rave of course). It's very dark in there, a fact not unrelated to the fact I'm still wearing my shades. As soon as the rains packs up I scuttle off for my other glasses and then get side-tracked by Dav and Sue for more silliness.
Then it's off to the main marquee to establish base camp and get on with the party. The bands are again starting at a sensible volume then gradual cranking it up as the evening proceeds - perfect.
I wander of in search of sustenance and am somewhat stunned to see a pack of a pack of colourfull fairies coming my way complete with wings and totos, tats and beards. Thankfully everyone else sees them too but I take some photos just to be on the safe side. Only at the Farmyard...
As usual I missed the bike show so I don't know what this one won
Something I hope, it's just sooo sexy
The final band are playing "lets pretend ..." and doing a load of AC/DC songs. They are obviously well into it, one has dressed up as Angus another as Bon Scott. I wonder if they change costumes for different gigs?
By the time they are up to "Whole Lotta Rosie" Lindsey and I are due our beds, I manage a slight boogie on the way out but to all intents and purposes by day is done.
Ah well at least it's not raining, which is good, but I'm awake before 8:00am which isn't. Still I'm not feeling too bad so set about getting up, coffeed etc. A few other people are up and about but after an hour or so's rudimentary conversion and mingling I decide to have another snooze.
Upon my second attempt at the day I feel utterly shite which I find faintly comforting and reassuring - this how one should feel at the end of the Farmyard Party.
Another fine production from the boys and girls of Yorkshire MAG - thanks guys.
Kev and Steve. This is all I saw of Steve all weekend. One flash of reflected sunlight and he was gone.
Hilly's bike in "off to a rally" mode
Vince. Sober, responsible pillar of society
Errr, yes.
Nurse - he's forgotten to take his medication again
Intentional or not we found it extremely funny
I'm not usually a Harley man - but this is well yummy
I told you I'd seen some fairies...
... but would you believe me? ...
... thank god my camera worked.
Only at The Farmyard.