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I'm at the head of a small pack, rolling along sunny dual-carriageways, travelling to TrikeFest XV near Ely in Cambridgeshire. Mr Cruzy is chugging along happily and I have some Dreadzone playing in my Bluetooth helmet. My SatNav calls out the turns as we pound the blacktop, getting ever closer to our weekend away with friends old and new ...
congratulations to beefy & amanda!
The Bank Holiday traffic is busy, but we get to Ely in good spirits. A few hops between roundabouts and we're turning into the rally field. Paying our entry fee, grabbing our wristbands and heading towards the hoots and shouts of friends already arrived. Many hugs later and were setting up our tents and changing into more comfortable clothes ready for the day ahead. My standard rally outfit of cutsy little pink trainers, flared jeans, a strappy top and my leather cut-off are donned and I wander around the rally field with the Unruly One to see who's arrived. It takes us ages as we stop at each campsite and meet up with people we haven't seen in months.
Red comes screaming over to hug us and I point my camera at her and get a few, quick shots before she covers her face. Chrissy has arrived too and we all enjoy seeing each other again. We plan our evening and agree it will contain lots of dancing.
Julie and I head into Ely to get her some comfy shoes to troll around in and we enjoy a Costa coffee and a wander around the town. I comment that it's very parochial and completely and utterly not like Milton Keynes at all. We visit Ely cathedral and scowl at some Chavs playing football against the thousand year old walls. What a bunch of scumbags *grrr*
Were back at camp and wandering around again. From far across the rally field I hear the laughter of Old Hoss and Tiny as they hold court outside the bar. We wander over and join in the melee, enjoying the easy flow of jokes and conversation. The beer flows, the smokes are cool and the conversation is easy. I am the butt of some of the jokes, but theyre nicely distributed today with everyone getting a good bashing, regardless of age and gender. It's been a long time coming. It's really funny to see Leigh in absolute stitches and it infects us all. It's hot and sunny and we have all afternoon ...
Evening rolls around and after some food and a wander around the stalls, we make for the bar and the evening session. The temperature has dropped a little and the party has moved inside now with various groups of people popping outside for smokes then back in again for more fun and friendship. The barman knows what I'm drinking and I just have to walk up to the bar to get a bottle of Bud plonked down in front of me without asking.
The girls and I wander in to watch the band and are amused at the antics of a stripping lead singer who is getting progressively more nekkid as the set continues. I'm a bit too drunk to care what he's up to and drag my friends down to the front and dance. The set finishes to rapturous applause and the DJ kicks in, knocking out some classic tunes for us to get spinny too. My favourite part of the night. Nothing exists except for my friends and the music. I'm in a happy haze ... Dancing and laughing ... enjoying the party with people I love.
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My eyes open and I stretch in my warm, comfortable sleeping bag. Toes working ... good ... fingers working ... good ... I had a great night's sleep. It was a good idea to bring my pillows. Before I open my eyes, I'm listening to the camp noises around me. Griff is singing in the distance and it brings a smile to my face. But something is missing. Something I always have on a Saturday after an evening of beer and dancing ... hmmm .... where's my hangover? I'm surprised to say that I feel absolutely fine. The only downer this morning is the sound of raindrops on my tent. Oh dear ... the Met Office was right ... it's going to be a damp one. Ho hum ...
I can smell the bacon sizzling on the grill so I crawl out of my tent and head over for some much needed breakfast. Julie is already there chatting happily to people and I join them as the showers stop. It takes at least four coffees to wake me up but I'm finally coherent and make my way back to camp to grab my camera ready for the weekend's main event ... Beefy & Amanda getting married at Ely registry office.
The clouds are threatening a little, but I don my Wolf Fleecy and jump on the back of Pie-eaters' Trike. Gawd it's comfy! I'm taking a few shots as we head down the A10 and we get to the registry office just as it starts to rain in earnest. Can you imagine fifty bikers & trikers all keeping dry in a bicycle shed? You had to be there ...
I normally refuse to photograph weddings. Full stop. I won't go into why, but Beefy is a good friend and it was a personal request from him. I wouldn't refuse him. I agree with Cowboy how we'll shoot this and go talk to the registrar. It's a pleasant enough little room with French Windows leading onto a pretty courtyard. One short and mostly serious ceremony later we're all cheering them as they have their first kiss then it's out into the courtyard for photographs.
I wish the weather had held out. A bit of sunshine would have made our pictures much better. Still, trying to co-ordinate fifty bikers is a little like herding cats and we finally get them all into a group, take a few serious shots then let them go wild. We're all milling around a bit now so I suggest that we go to Costa as it's only two minutes walk away. We all enjoy a coffee, some conversation with interested locals and then it's back to the rally field.
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Oh dear ... As I came on Pie-eaters trike, I let the Unruly One ride back on it and I jump on Karen's ... and then the heavens opened! My fleecy hood is wrapped as tightly around my head as possible and the rain stings like a thousand tiny arrows as we head back up the A10. A BMW drivers overtakes in the other direction and spooks Karen a little. An OK manoeuvre in the dry but its sheeting it down and I gave him the international 'wanker' hand gesture. I then realise that I'm the one soaking on the back of a trike without any waterproofs or helmet ... hmmm ... maybe I'm the wanker then? I do manage to giggle a little, even with rain dripping down my neck.
I dive into my tent and remember that I didn't pack a towel because I was hoping it was going to stay dry this weekend. Lawks! I snuggle into my sleeping bag knowing that a few hours in there will mostly dry me out. I fall asleep to the sound of rain pelting the canvas above me ...
I was very off and on for the rest of the day. I woke up only slightly moist, wandered around for a while, ate something then went back to the comfort of my sleeping bag for a further few hours. As I said earlier on in this tome, I didn't have a hangover, but I certainly had the malaise I feel after a heavy session. It took me a while to fire on all cylinders today, but by seven pm ... I may have had the wildest hair on the camp site ... but I was raring to go and headed back to the bar for a repeat of the night before ...
It was certainly a memorable rally and one that a lot of us had been waiting a whole year for. Trikes R Us have been doing TrikeFest for fifteen years so they always get it right. Good stalls, great food tent, some good bands ... but most of all, a chance to spend some quality time with friends again. It was just a shame that Saturday was so wet. C'est la vie.
Whether you're just sitting in a tent enjoying a coffee and some good conversation, swigging Newcastle Brown and laughing until your sides ache ... or like me ... dancing your ass off drunk as a lord, surrounded by people you love ... well sir, TrikeFest is a lot of things to a lot of people ...
And I know that every single one of us enjoyed it :)
Until next time ...
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