Rum Runners Rally

3rd April 1987 - Wessex Roadriders MCC

The rain on the trip down didn't trouble me over much. It was just something I had got used to over the years. As I am sure it is to you. Unfortunately, the amount of rain that had fallen on the rally site, not far from Chickerell in Dorset, was a touch too much for the main section where the marquee and tents were situated. Somehow I had managed to secure a patch of slightly higher ground for my tent, leaving my bike on the concrete strip road. I had no idea how much of the surrounding ground was to become completely sodden. The terraced slope of the campsite intended for caravanners was also used by many tent-dwellers unwilling to risk the 'Mud Club' down below.

Waterproofs were the order of the day, (or night), in the marquee, and only the foolhardy wore anything less than full-sized boots.

It was an act of severe optimism/inebriation to participate in the Saturday games if you didn't have a change of clothes with you. Although, this being a proper campsite, there was a laundry room which was well patronised throughout. The blindfold wheelbarrow race, where the wheelbarrow was the one blindfolded, was probably muddier than you would expect, as was the tug-of-war. They also had the carrot-eating contest in the field/lake as opposed to the normal time/location, (marquee/evening).

The band, Engine, went down as well as usual, as did the beer and disco. It had stopped raining by now, but the field was still wet. There was even a stream running down the field and through the marquee, so a lot of straw/sawdust had been imported to cope, which it must have done as I don't remember any mud-fights which usually occur in muddy marquees. I also don't remember any naked wimmin, nor does my camera.

In the morning the sun came out, but this didn't help those who had parked their bikes in the field. Others like me, who were on the concrete strip, had little or no problem getting out.

I was feeling generally well-disposed towards others of my ilk, so, when asked to take a girl from a local club home, who's boyfriend's bike, in fact, all the club's bikes, were a bit full of luggage, I agreed. It was an easy ride home, only they went a slightly longer route than I would have and at a lower speed. It only took an extra ten minutes or so to drop the passenger off and I got home late afternoon.

- Phil (the Spill) Drackley