Smelly Quim Rally
16th July 1993 - Saddletramps MCC
I met the organisers at a couple of Midlands rallies, but I didn't realise that they came from the same North Wales village my sister lived in for a few years, so I was fairly familiar with the route to Rhuthun (Welsh)/ Ruthin (English).
I was amused that instead of a badge, we were given a leather keyring, with a dead fish on it.
I seem to recall the bikes had to be left in the pub car park, as the camping area was rather limited. There never seemed to be many of the organising club about at any time, but I assume there were a few in attendance.
The evening was spent in the function room of the pub, where there was an uninspiring disco, and a few dazzling lights, which may have been better used pointing at the ceiling.
There didn't appear to be any games organised during the day, so I went for a short ride into the surrounding area, to check out the village I had only visited a few times in the preceding years. After a few hours it was back into the disco for the night.
When I was getting the bike ready for the trip home on Sunday, I suddenly noticed that the glass on one of the instruments was missing. I am fairly sure it had been there up to the previous afternoon. It may have got broken at some point, but the total lack of broken shards in the dial was a bit of a mystery. I can't think why somebody would do it on purpose, and then clear it up.
Later, on the way home, I managed to get done for speeding on one of the motorways up there. It wasn't a major amount, resulting in only a fine and points. I think they were either bored or having a clampdown. To make it worse, I then discovered that I was going the wrong way anyway. (Luckily, not on the wrong carriageway.) Obviously I didn't feel like increasing my speed to the next junction to turn around, in order to make up time, even though I was wanting to get back home to attend the club's stand at the local Uxbridge Auto Show.
The icing on the cake was when I got home, I found I had blown a head gasket, which is why I arrived at the club stand with my leg covered in oil, a little later than anticipated.
- Phil (the Spill) Drackley