The oddly named "Ostris" is a rally and Egg Run held at Easter, which is quite a coincidence since "Ostris" is the historic Pagan name for Easter, I know what your thinking, now there's a bit simulcra, no, er synchronicity , (isn't simulcra where ye see the face of god in a plate of tripe, then charge folk to see it). The 15 previous incarnations were, the event formerly known as, Northumberland Bikers Egg Run. It has grown from being a run, into a run with some space for folk from further afield to camp, through to this, the first sort of 'proper' rally.

The previous site at the Bebside Inn was becoming too small and Lego were in the process of building 'social incubation units' on the other side of the road from the site, chances are there would be complaints about noise from the residents, well we might wake their 2.2 children.

Aside from this the run was becoming so popular that the road was becoming blocked by the queue of bikes waiting to move off. A new site had been located, however, over the piss wet winter it had been constantly flooded and had not seeded. For an alternative site the Council dusted the cobwebs off the old 'Municipal' Campsite, closed since the seventies, but hey, flares are back, why not 70's campsites. Anyway , why don't we have Municipal campsites in this country anymore ? , the French do, dumb ass question really , we all know the answer already.

I had a 'first' for fifteen years going to this rally, for reasons of red tape, structural engineer tossers = no workshop yet, I had to invest in another bike, indeed for the frst time in fifteen years I was behind a fairing ! I picked up an eBaytastic standard FJ to tide me over this rally season. Feels strange not being on a naked bike never mind it being standard. it's all messing wiv me 'ead. It's appalingly easy to find yourself doing licence losing speeds without realising it, oh crap, I'll have to pay attention to the speedo rather than just sensing the bending moment of me neck.

After avoiding the CFFA Cameras (Cash for f*ck all) which populate the A1 I arrived at Morpeth where by luck, or rather my inattention to navigation's luck, I spied a familiar yellow framed matt (or is it satin) black GSX1100EFE coming out of the petrol station. T'was Donald, who 'knew' where he was going, result !. Well yes result, deciding to show off his new one off exhaust system we er, erm, would 'made good time' suffice as an appropriate euphamism, officer ? Sited a stone's throw from Blyth beach, the new site was suitably secluded, so we could make lots of noise and not both anyone.

Friday nights marqueetastic entertainment was provided by the band whose name we cannot remember (I'm sure someone will remind me) followed by 'Indepen...dence', or is that 'dance', dunno, but folk did, in abundance. Also making an appearance was 'Mr Tempermental' the highly strung generator who tried his best to test the resolve of the band by tripping out with some regularity, I did see Gordon running round the back of the marquee with a 6lb mash hammer, it seemed to get the message and the party went on, and in a seasoned effort to show professional journalistic integrity I managed not to get shit faced until 11:30pm. woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo.................wee white dot in middle of big black screen.

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