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It's Friday night and I'm watching the last series of Lost, wondering if I'm ever going to understand what's going on. Lying on the floor surrounded by the detritus of a chilled night, an email from one Johnny Silver of Trash Monkey drops into my inbox ...
trash monkey rocking out on stage at bmf 2010
"Hey Steffi, would you like a free pass for the BMF tomorrow?" he writes. "We're playing at 8pm, and knowing you love bikes and rock music, it would be cool to see you there". Surprise, surprise ... looks like I'm heading for Peterborough tomorrow.
He drops in the passes early morning, I grab a shower, go for coffee and then ride up through Olney and Wellingborough and blag my way onto the showground to go find my friends from The Brothers of The Third Wheel to hang out with them for the afternoon. After being stopped by Security for riding Mr Cruzy during show hours (sorry ... the gate wardens said I could) I park up next to a selection of wonderful trikes and dive in the BTW tent for a coffee.
click on any thumbnail to see the larger image
It's quite a surprise for them as only Sticks knew I was coming, so after catching up on recent events and drinking a well needed coffee, I'm wandering around the stalls looking for a set of retro leathers to go with my new found love of all things Cruzy. Thankfully (from my credit cards point of view) I don't find anything I like. I get invited to hang out with The Barrel Bikers for a while after bumping into Yogi and his Mrs who were, like me, just wandering around in the sunshine taking in the sights and sounds of this major biker show.
More coffee and conversation in the shade of a thousand photographs chronicling the history of the GPO rally and then it's time for sausage and chips and a tiny 4.50 hog roast sandwich. I forgot that prices get inflated here. I cough the words "*RIP OFF*" as I walk away. I'm too hungry to argue.
Typical lazy rally Saturday with everyone from the BTW chilling out and I sit eating in the sunshine next to Mr Cruzy as admirers wander over and ask me technical questions about him that I haven't got a clue about. "Erm, yes, he's got a fuel tank thanks, but I have no idea how big it is ... I just fill it up every 100 miles, now go away, I'm trying to eat". They finally get the message and wander off, only to return that evening with more questions about compression ratios and the rake of my front forks. I'm yawning in the sunshine and Jackie volunteers to look after my cameras and wake me after an hour's nap ... I fall asleep to the happy hubbub of people wandering around looking for bargains.
Trash Monkey are due on stage, and I head over to the bar to join a thousand bikers doing the one thing they do better than riding ... drinking! The tables are filled but there's not that many people down the front yet ... that'll change, Trash Monkey are well versed at getting people to rock out.
The guitars kick in with some screaming feedback then Captain Mike is on the vocals belting out the tracks like there's no tomorrow ... big, huge guitars ... slammin' stompy drums, and a major amount of front man attitude ... it brings them some love from the leather-clad, and by the end of the first track, there's a pretty descent crowd gathering.
click on any thumbnail to see the larger image
I check my camera and realise that I've already taken 150 shots of them. I guess I'm enjoying it too. Flitting from one side of the stage to the other, catching shots with my sparkle filter ... I'm really missing my 70-200mm lens as I see some corking compositions that my 18-55mm just won't reach. I need to go see Sigma and get them to fix it because I feel I'm missing out somewhat.
Still ... I think the shots I got tell a story ... one of a Milton Keynes band taking their first dip into the biker scene ... and being appreciated for it too. They could have got covered in beer, and been insulted to high heaven, but no ... they got it just right and went down really well.
you need adobe flash v6 or later to watch this video
Although there are other bands on tonight, I need to head home. It's getting late and despite offers from my BTW friends to find a cosy corner of a tent for me, my neck is paying the price of carrying my camera pack around all day, and I'm looking forward to my own bed tonight. I bid them farewell with promises of a reunion at Trikes R Us in a fortnights time and head off into the night with Mr Cruzy burbling happily along some twisty country lanes.
After the warmth and sunshine of the day, the difference in temperature is very noticeable, and I find myself shivering a bit as I pull into the BP station just east of Olney. Darn it, why didn't I bring a fleece with me? Finally back onto the grid roads, I open up the throttle to get me home as quickly as possible and have to remind myself as I tip Cruzy into roundabouts that I'm not riding my 'blade! I just want to be warm again!
I sit on my sofa, wrapped up warm in my dressing gown, drinking coffee and stroking a small purring kitty. I'm thinking back to what a great day it had been. Aren't spur of the moment things always the best? Thanks to a late night email I'd spent time with some good friends and got to see one of the best MK bands of the moment rocking out a notoriously difficult to please group of people.
All in all, a very good day ...
Until next time ...
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