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Bloody 'ell, nearly March already. By some mystical turn of good fortune, that being that building my project bike meant that I hadn't fettled with my current bike and hence it wasn't lying in bits in the shed with me lying about on the couch muttering to myself something about "Bugger I'll need to get ma arse in gear, rally season's nearly here". And so it is that I've never actually made it to this rally before despite highly optimistic good intentions. So organised was I that I'd charged my battery, taken the bike for a run the previous weekend, impressed yet, I was ;-). Unfortunately the battery suffered a severe bout of Acidic pH dysintery and the arse fell out of it, which left me trying to get away early from work on Friday to get a new battery, all, of course in the manner of a severely stress headless chicken. And to top it all, I got home, and for the first time ever, me missus was packed and ready before me, I've still not heard the end of it ! |
Wee John, who dissapointingly didn't do anything embarrassing, at least not when I had my camera handy |
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The 'Baltics' is a region of North East Europe, Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia, I presume they must be cold places since we spent most of Friday repeating the phrase "It's feckin' Baltic". Winter Rallies are a cempletely different proposition from a nice warm summer ones. The weatherman said it would be -6 deg on Friday night. Remembering to pack extra JD and blankets we set off. For us it's only about a sixty mile ride, considering the state my fingers were in when we arrived I could only imagine how the bloke from Portsmouth's fingers were feeling. I standing tradition of the Thistle Rally (Yes the's been 35 of 'em before) is a wee nip and a hot pie when you arrive. So I flung the Whisky down my throat, squashed the pie onto a roll along with a half pint of brown sauce and hugged the space heater for a while. It seems that the thought of "To hell with the weather, let's party" was shared by well over 200 folk who turned up.
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Ttents were pitched in the garden of the Tinto Country Hotel, swearing at the tent pegs as we bashed them through the ice covered grass. The temptation to go and have a few JD's is hard not to give in to, but the thought of rolling out of the bar at 1am and THEN having to put yer tent up seemed like a little to much to contemplate. The hotel is a bit 'poash' as we would say, what they were letting us bunch party in it for I've no idea, well, maybe the amount we might put across the bar had something to do with it ;-) Friday night's band was 'Flint', bagpipes, banjos & geetars, Pogues and other such rousing Scot's & Irish numbers in abundance, but they were great nonetheless, if you like that sort of thing ;-). Being the first rally of the year there were plenty of folk to catch up with after the winter, have a pint (or nine) and blether, whilst trying to remain upright. |
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There were a few birthday's to celebrate, Peter's (FVMCC), a lass whose name I missed (sorry) and Wee Gordy from the Saints & Sinners 80th, by god man, he's lookin' well for it, he was even wearing his present on his neck, either a love bite or he'd fallen on his 'wallys' |
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Chucking out time and it was off to the marquee for a few roll's and Sausage Coffee and a heat . Perhaps because this rally has been going for so long loats of folk travel considerable distances to it, The Black Widows, folk from Portsmouth, Bradford, Aberdeen and Germany. Most rallies ye just don't want to go to bed, this one yer 'feart' tae. Piling jackets, panniers,bin bags and just about anything on to your sleeping bag to keep the heat in. Of course some experienced buggers were up at the marquee filling hot water bottles (note to self for next year) and some folk stayed in the hotel, I could call 'em 'lightwieghts' perhaps 'having some sense' would be more appropriate.
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Helps pass the time when yer ridin' a long way |
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