Issue 136 : August - September 2004
BMW's Motorrad
Farmyard Party
European HOG Rally
World Ducati Week
Triumph Speedmaster
Boom Trikes
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BMW's Motorrad
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Farmyard Party
The reality is Folks, your two-night party is a ten-day working holiday for a lot of people, and mounting legislation means that we have to buy-in help and expertise from the non-biking community. All of these people have to get to the remote site somehow, and they all arrive in cars and vans. This year, in order to serve you the 80,000 drinks you guzzled down over the weekend, we had to employ over 60 bar staff. The 92 entertainers kept you smiling all weekend and the 16 sound and lighting engineers made sure you could hear and see them. The 96 catering personnel worked non-stop to keep your tummies full (and there were some big tummies at the Farmyard). The 10 toilet service people worked non-stop to keep your bottoms smelling sweet (and there were some big bottoms at the Farmyard). The 114 traders, worked non-stop to sell you stuff you didn't really need. The 15 bin men, 8 electrical staff, 18 security staff, 15 first aid staff, 8 police officers, 9 ambulance transfer staff, 4 Firemen, 3 health & safety inspectors and 2 tractor drivers worked non-stop to keep you all safe and warm over the weekend. But the hardest working bunch of all were the 150 marshals at the Farmyard Party. These are the people who put you to bed when you're drunk, (It's a green tent Mate, next to a motorbike!). Each and every one of them bought a ticket for the event, each and every one of them rode in on a bike and without their voluntary efforts, tickets for this year's party would have been £40.00 each, just to break even. The Farmyard Party is a unique Biker-run event, it's the biggest and best 'Biker's only' party in Europe and we want to keep it that way, but it takes a lot of hard work and organisation behind the scenes to make it happen. If you fancy helping out at next year's event, give us a call. Come and have a go, if you think you're hard enough. It's the most fun you can have with your clothes on (except leather and PVC clothing, obviously). See you all next year
Ron suggested we have a small nip to keep the cold out, nip followed nip and then nip's wayward cousin glug got into the action. A box of wine appeared, seemingly out of the ether, it was soon despatched into that sad hinterland of empty receptacles. Hip flasks were charged and we set off into Helmsly to avail ourselves of breakfast and possibly a pint. We numbered five by then (six actually if you include Rocket the Jack Russell, which I think you must) myself, Ron, Yo-Yo, Mickle and a younger lad called Leigh from Nottingham, that we had just befriended with a snifter of Scotch. There is no getting away from it Helmsley is a bloody long walk from the site. We were sustained in our march by the contents of the hip flasks and the thought of a fry up. We met loads of people as the village began to fill up including a coach load of pensioners from Doncaster. We had a good chat with them about MAG's aims in general and the problems bikers face. They were very receptive and wholeheartedly agreed with us. One old lady was even going to write to her MP upon her return home. Not bad after the sort of day we were enduring and all for the sake of fun. The afternoon drew on and it was time to get back for the evening's festivities. It was at this juncture that something of a rebellion took place, I refused to take the long walk back to the site. "Someone will be along to give me a lift," I pronounced with more confidence than I really felt. Dire visions of me still sitting there hours later as the lights went out one by one began to assail me. Thankfully within a few minutes my mate Callum (Stamford, Lincs) arrived and indeed agreed to give me a lift. The rain had been steadily falling on and off all day, needless to say the entrance and track through the stalls was rather slippy. Like the fool that I am, I told him not to fall off. As the words left my lips I knew I was going to get muddy. Sure enough within a few yards down we went. I performed a perfect commando roll (I was reliably informed that it was not a perfect commando roll, which just goes to show how different perceptions can be), stood up, tossed a few insults at Callum and in almost the same instant flagged down a passing quad for a lift. Not really the sort of thing you should do, leaving a fellow biker on the ground, but there were four people already assisting him the moment he went down. Besides which, what use would I have been in my tired and emotional state? I got a lift back to our little enclave by the trees (thanks Bill), Callum arriving shortly thereafter. There followed a rather ribald discussion as to the merits of my capabilities as a passenger not to mention a few other perceived character flaws on my part. I may have pointed out one or two pertinent points as to question his skill in the saddle. Fun and merriment at the fire and the ubiquitous hip flask soon soothed any dented pride. On Sunday morning I bumped into Mr Mutch in the MAG tent. We had a chat about this and that. The conversation ended something like this. "Did you see the ACDC tribute band last night Ferg?" "My God Mutch do they have bands here as well?" Goodnight
I can not write anything about the Farmyard Party without saying what a wonderful job the Marshal's did. Without the hard work and dedication of the folk in yellow/red jackets the event just would not happen - if you recognise any of them buy them a drink next time you see them. So what happens inside event control - well we sit there drinking coffee pretending to be important whilst everyone else does all the work, actually we monitor the event via the radios. As Marshal's come across situations were they require assistance or a question they want answering - we do our best - I'd like to think we got it right most of the time. When doing this we have two over riding considerations 1. Don't ask anyone to do anything you wouldn't do yourself.
We also deal with lost property - thank you to all the people who handed stuff in - there were some very grateful folk who got their property back due to your honesty. One case involved a wallet with a wad in it -on which anyone could have had a very good weekend. One of the biggest incidents was dealing with the queuing traffic on the road on Friday afternoon - which resulted in us having to suspend the one way system for a time to enable both roads to be used as entrances to clear the backlog - if you were stuck in it I hope you were understanding. Again the Marshal's responded brilliantly. Other than that thanks to all of you for not sending my stress levels through the roof. So how did I end up doing this job? Well I used to do the disco when we had one in the main arena and Pete Walker (main organiser) said "You're having too much fun - get in that green box, worry all weekend, have no sleep, deal with loads of difficult situations, make decisions no one else wants to make and you'd better do a good job - besides everyone thinks your disco is crap" - thanks Pete. To sign off, thanks again to all the workers, thanks to all the party goers - seeing you enjoying yourselves makes it all worth while. All the best - see you next year,
We were three hundred miles into a trek from south London to one of MAG UK's best loved rallies. A regular feature in the rally calendar of many good folk and a convenient weekend blast. Hitting Yorkshire we soon passed the Darrowby Inn (named after the Herriot books set in the area) and were climbing into the Dales towards the quaint village of Helmsley. Rain eased off as if on cue and gentle but fast winding roads soon brought back the will to live. The Farmyard has one of the finest rally venues known to mankind. A winding valley encircled by forestry with easily controlled access and soundproofing courtesy of nature. A sea of tents filled the far end of the valley with a stage and several marquees erected close to the entrance. Thanks to efficient and laid-back marshalling, the site and the innate comradeliness of the northerners the rally has a palpable atmosphere of enjoyment. Unlike many other rallies you can bring your own refreshments if the notion takes you but on-site prices are quite reasonable so there's little point. Fires are allowed and many were keeping the evening chills at bay with expertly tended barbecues and small bonfires surrounded by happy groups. Smoke from a hundred fires wafted across a tent filled valley with a background of good music and the laughter of over eight thousand people enjoying themselves. Official entertainment consisted of a handful of excellent bands on the main stage, several lesser bands and D.J.s plus a pulsing rave tent and several beer tents. High standards marked the bike show with a tasty little Norton, a few Indians, a brace of trikes and a more than a few fantastically extreme creations saved from disbelief by being ridden in. Rallygoers came on everything from MZs and scooters to military style trikes and the first example of Triumph's latest 2349cc piece of rocketry seen in the wild. Bikes from all decades including plenty of the latest race rep machinery sitting beside sidevalves and suicide clutches. Faith in human nature was restored by the sheer diversity of it all. Bikes, clothing, backgrounds and attitudes showing that a love of motorcycling comes in many shapes and won't be bought off by commercial interests. MAG UK provide this for a pittance. Twenty five quid on the gate with a seven quid drinks voucher. 17 quid (still with seven quid drinks voucher) if booked through MAG UK and free for members of national riders rights organisations (ie MAG Ireland) resident outside the UK through the FEMAX scheme. Can't beat that for value. North Yorkshire is just under one thousand km from my corner of Ireland and made for a good day's ride home. David French who is Irish |
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NO CARS, NO VANS, NO PEDESTRIANS, NO EXCUSES.
Ferg's Farmyard
Visions of The Farmyard Party from inside a Green Box. Paul Kelsey
An Irishman's view of the do