Rallyman Rally Report – January 2009
For me the rally season starts with the 'Rallyman' rally, held over the weekend of January 10th and 11th 2009 and organised in West Yorkshire, England by the Dean Valley Motorcycle Club.
Owing to family commitments, I decided not to ride up to the rally site on the Friday night, a decision that I was very happy to have made, when, drawing the curtains on Saturday morning I was faced with a heavy frost and a reading of minus 6 degrees on the thermometer with black ice along the drive way.
A kettle of boiling water was needed to free off the locks on the garage door but within half an hour I was loaded up and my little 1968 BSA Starfire came to life on the second kick.
Rally ready 1968 BSA Starfire
The ride to the rally site was only about 60 miles and I had arranged to travel with my good friends, Buck on his ‘ wrong way round, right hand chair ‘ Ural combination and Tim with his 350 ex army ‘ Harley Davidson ‘.
We travel from my hometown of Rotherham, along the A629, towards Huddersfield but after only 10 miles we approach a ‘Road Closed’ sign, I pull over, Buck’s combination chugs past and carries on along the now empty road, I follow, luckily the road was passable and we didn’t meet any police !!!.
Karma, operating as it does, means that, 5 miles further on, whilst slowing for a set of traffic lights, the Ural stops dead. After half an hour or so of wire waggling and trying to understand Russian electronic ignition circuits, Buck calls the recovery service and Tim and I ride on.
Buck has a breakdown !
Through Huddersfield and past the, now converted, industrial mills of Halifax, we pick up the A629 , heading towards Keighley. After only five or six miles we spot tents and motorcycles, in a field to our left, directly behind the Causeway Inn at Ogden. With frozen fingers I start unpacking my tent whilst Tim starts running over to the top end of the field where he has seen the sign for a residential hotel, two minutes walk up the road !. A quick phone call later and Tim is seen clambering over a barbed wire fence with two ammo box panniers ( saddle bags ), whilst I continue my battle with ice cold alloy tent pegs.
Just as my tent is up, Tim returns, showered and changed!, at the same time another good friend, Martyn, arrives from Doncaster on his BMW K1200 R.
Is that a hotel behind them ?
A few cans of ‘Guinness’ later and we are in need of a warm, so walking past the forty or so other motorcycles that have made the rally we enter the pub.
After signing in, we received our prized rally badge and sticker and find a table near to the fire. I telephone Buck, he is still waiting for the recovery lorry so asks us to book him a room in the hotel, I start drinking.
Four hours later, Buck arrives, the Ural has been safely deposited back in his garage and he has jumped on his BMW 1200 Adventure for a fast ride to join us.
A well earned supper
Good real ales, Timothy Taylors, Black Sheep, etc, etc, etc wash down a meal and a good rock disco passes the hours. Prize giving follows, for furthest travelled, etc and I get quite a surprise, as the B.S.A. takes the award for ‘Best Bike’ at the rally. I always like it when a £500 shed takes the award over brand new £12, 000 B.M.W’s and Ducati’s, especially when it’s my shed. Tales are told, malt whiskey, from hip flasks, is passed around, old friends are reunited and new ones made. The partying, for me, continues until 1 a.m. when unable to stand, I feel my tent calling. Although I am assured that some left the bar around 3.30 a.m.
What time did we leave ?
Although the temperatures increase through the night and the frost disappears, a strong wind comes from the southwest. Through the night the tent bends and flaps.
After a few hours sleep, I walk down to the pub for a 9 a.m. breakfast, past two or three tents that show signs of overnight collapse, outlining bodies still huddling inside the now flat canvas.
The morning after
£5 buys coffee, orange juice and a full ‘English’ breakfast, including black pudding and fried bread, just the thing to pull me round and I get ready to pack. With the tent down, I’m joined by Buck and Tim, who insist on telling me about the delights of showers and 24 hour hotel T.V. porn channels.
The ride home takes a couple of hours, against the strong winds, at times I’m down to 2nd gear, at others I think I’m off, as the front feels as if it is about to wash out with every strong gust. I feel sorry for the guy who I met the previous evening, he had won the ‘furthest travelled’ award and had a six or seven hour motorway blast ahead of him, travelling straight into the wind on his unfaired six cylinder Honda.
Furthest Travelled Honda
So,first rally of the year completed and hopefully many more to come, I wash the salt and road grime from the Starfire, adjust the chain and decide to change the spark plug in readiness for the ‘Dragon Rally’ now only four weeks away. A 150 mile trek over the moors and hills of the Pennines should see the BSA arrive at the, still yet undisclosed site, somewhere in the Welsh, Snowdonia National Park.
Buck, unfortunately can’t accompany me to the ‘Dragon’ as he will be just setting off across England, Denmark and Norway, to the Krystal Rally, on his Honda C 90 Cub !!!!!, and some think I’m mad for riding Brit bikes.
Norway is how far ?
For me the rally season starts with the 'Rallyman' rally, held over the weekend of January 10th and 11th 2009 and organised in West Yorkshire, England by the Dean Valley Motorcycle Club.
Owing to family commitments, I decided not to ride up to the rally site on the Friday night, a decision that I was very happy to have made, when, drawing the curtains on Saturday morning I was faced with a heavy frost and a reading of minus 6 degrees on the thermometer with black ice along the drive way.
A kettle of boiling water was needed to free off the locks on the garage door but within half an hour I was loaded up and my little 1968 BSA Starfire came to life on the second kick.
Rally ready 1968 BSA Starfire
The ride to the rally site was only about 60 miles and I had arranged to travel with my good friends, Buck on his ‘ wrong way round, right hand chair ‘ Ural combination and Tim with his 350 ex army ‘ Harley Davidson ‘.
We travel from my hometown of Rotherham, along the A629, towards Huddersfield but after only 10 miles we approach a ‘Road Closed’ sign, I pull over, Buck’s combination chugs past and carries on along the now empty road, I follow, luckily the road was passable and we didn’t meet any police !!!.
Karma, operating as it does, means that, 5 miles further on, whilst slowing for a set of traffic lights, the Ural stops dead. After half an hour or so of wire waggling and trying to understand Russian electronic ignition circuits, Buck calls the recovery service and Tim and I ride on.
Buck has a breakdown !
Through Huddersfield and past the, now converted, industrial mills of Halifax, we pick up the A629 , heading towards Keighley. After only five or six miles we spot tents and motorcycles, in a field to our left, directly behind the Causeway Inn at Ogden. With frozen fingers I start unpacking my tent whilst Tim starts running over to the top end of the field where he has seen the sign for a residential hotel, two minutes walk up the road !. A quick phone call later and Tim is seen clambering over a barbed wire fence with two ammo box panniers ( saddle bags ), whilst I continue my battle with ice cold alloy tent pegs.
Just as my tent is up, Tim returns, showered and changed!, at the same time another good friend, Martyn, arrives from Doncaster on his BMW K1200 R.
Is that a hotel behind them ?
A few cans of ‘Guinness’ later and we are in need of a warm, so walking past the forty or so other motorcycles that have made the rally we enter the pub.
After signing in, we received our prized rally badge and sticker and find a table near to the fire. I telephone Buck, he is still waiting for the recovery lorry so asks us to book him a room in the hotel, I start drinking.
Four hours later, Buck arrives, the Ural has been safely deposited back in his garage and he has jumped on his BMW 1200 Adventure for a fast ride to join us.
A well earned supper
Good real ales, Timothy Taylors, Black Sheep, etc, etc, etc wash down a meal and a good rock disco passes the hours. Prize giving follows, for furthest travelled, etc and I get quite a surprise, as the B.S.A. takes the award for ‘Best Bike’ at the rally. I always like it when a £500 shed takes the award over brand new £12, 000 B.M.W’s and Ducati’s, especially when it’s my shed. Tales are told, malt whiskey, from hip flasks, is passed around, old friends are reunited and new ones made. The partying, for me, continues until 1 a.m. when unable to stand, I feel my tent calling. Although I am assured that some left the bar around 3.30 a.m.
What time did we leave ?
Although the temperatures increase through the night and the frost disappears, a strong wind comes from the southwest. Through the night the tent bends and flaps.
After a few hours sleep, I walk down to the pub for a 9 a.m. breakfast, past two or three tents that show signs of overnight collapse, outlining bodies still huddling inside the now flat canvas.
The morning after
£5 buys coffee, orange juice and a full ‘English’ breakfast, including black pudding and fried bread, just the thing to pull me round and I get ready to pack. With the tent down, I’m joined by Buck and Tim, who insist on telling me about the delights of showers and 24 hour hotel T.V. porn channels.
The ride home takes a couple of hours, against the strong winds, at times I’m down to 2nd gear, at others I think I’m off, as the front feels as if it is about to wash out with every strong gust. I feel sorry for the guy who I met the previous evening, he had won the ‘furthest travelled’ award and had a six or seven hour motorway blast ahead of him, travelling straight into the wind on his unfaired six cylinder Honda.
Furthest Travelled Honda
So,first rally of the year completed and hopefully many more to come, I wash the salt and road grime from the Starfire, adjust the chain and decide to change the spark plug in readiness for the ‘Dragon Rally’ now only four weeks away. A 150 mile trek over the moors and hills of the Pennines should see the BSA arrive at the, still yet undisclosed site, somewhere in the Welsh, Snowdonia National Park.
Buck, unfortunately can’t accompany me to the ‘Dragon’ as he will be just setting off across England, Denmark and Norway, to the Krystal Rally, on his Honda C 90 Cub !!!!!, and some think I’m mad for riding Brit bikes.
Norway is how far ?