Isle of Wight - August 24th - 27th 2007
The race to get Lee's chopper on the road caused great stress in the Richards household, but it ended up sailing through the MOT on the Wednesday before the rally, so we could all breathe a sigh of relief. A quick email to Tori guaranteed us a spot in the custom show so all we had to worry about was packing the polish and the toolkit (well, it is a Lambretta after all...).
The journey was fairly eventful. Sam noticed that the tax disc had fallen off before we'd even left Bognor, and then we had to stop four times before we hit the A27 due to various rattles and scrapes, but in the end Lee gave up tightening things and we just hot-footed it to Pompey where we were booked on the 10.30 ferry. Due to my relatively advanced state of pregnancy I had to drive the car, which had its bonuses as we could take as much luggage as we liked! It wasn't the same though, and I looked enviously on the scooter riders as I waited to embark. Lee tethered his bike to the side of the ferry and protected it with a few blankets - which did the trick as it managed to stay upright and undamaged. Ryde was busy as usual, but we'd barely got there when Lee pulled over. He'd run out of petrol, despite having filled up in Bognor (and he's got an extra-big tank!). So he free-wheeled down to the seafront to park it up, and then we headed off in the car to fill up the petrol can we luckily had in the boot.
The B & B I'd stayed in for the last 8 years had been sold and reverted to a normal house so we'd had to find new accommodation. So we headed for the Royal York, which had its advantages as it was right in the middle of town, albeit at the top of a hill, which normally wouldn't be a problem but my fitness isn't quite what it was. Oh well, at least it had a lift to our second floor, sea view room! The decor was very dated but it was clean, and we headed down to the Lud to sit by the grass and show off the scoot. Some Japanese tourists loved it, and it had admiring comments from most people.
By evening, everyone else had arrived. Lee's clubmates were at a holiday park in Bembridge so had got a taxi into town and the rest of the Detour gang set up camp on the wall opposite the Lud. I couldn't resist nipping back to the hotel to watch the Big Brother eviction interviews (Tracey and Kara Louise had got the boot) and then Lee and I dashed across to the ice rink to catch the Stone Roses tribute band who were headlining at the VFM do. We bumped into Scooter Daddy on the way, who'd come over all the way from California with his daughter and grandson. After a quick chat (where he promised me more scooter goodies - he should be called Scooter Santa!!) we headed into the venue which was very busy for a Friday night. The band were great, and the view from the seats was amazing for I Am The Resurrection - thousands of people all with their hands in the air - I bet the band don't get that much of a reaction normally. By now it was bedtime so we trekked up the hill for the last time and hit the sack.
Saturday dawned and it was perfect bank holiday weather for a change. We had to be up bright and early to get down for the custom show. Tori was doing a brilliant job of marshalling several disorganised, hungover scooterists and had saved us a brilliant spot on the end of a row. Lee set about polishing and I made the most of the photo opportunity and got loads of pics of the lovely scoots without any punters getting in the way! I then returned to Lee and pointed out all the bits he'd missed, and got a duster out and gave it a last minute rub. John and Christina Manns had set up a tombola stall to raise money for the Robert Sebbage appeal. They had some very dashing pink gloves which had my name written all over them so I bought a couple of the raffle tickets. Amazingly, one of the tickets ended in a '0' so I'd won! Christina kindly gave me the gloves as a prize so I was well happy. I tried them on and they fitted perfectly, like a glove in fact....
By now the chilly atmosphere in the ice rink had got to us so we went outside to thaw out. We popped up to see Jill and Derek, ex-owners of our old B & B who were still living in Ryde. After a nice catch-up we headed back to town and after a quick bite to eat we caught up with the Pacemakers who were in the Crown. I swapped baby notes with newlywed Lucy while Lee enjoyed a few beers with the lads while Ashley and Julie went off shopping!
We headed back to the ice rink for the prize-giving at 4pm. I was surprised how busy it still was, but probably not surprising for such a big custom show. It was really nail-biting, and I told Lee to get his 'Oscar' face ready to clap if he didn't win. The main awards went to Memphis Belle and Zulu, with The Avengers picking up Best Vespa. Steve Foster was announcing the winners, and when it came round to Best Chop he just read out a number plate at first. I couldn't remember what Lee's was, and it wasn't until he'd got the end of it that Lee muttered 'that's mine!'. And then Steve confirmed it with 'Meat Is Murder'. BRILLIANT!! Lee went up to collect his trophy from Tori and I clapped wildly! That made all the money, time and angst worthwhile. It only took 17 years to build after all....
After a few celebratory photos we headed back to the hotel for the footie scores. Pompey had lost to Chelsea (boo) by a very small margin, and Coventry had amazingly continued their unbeaten run with a win away at Cardiff. And to top it all they were top of the Championship!
There weren't any bands that we fancied seeing on Saturday night so we just settled for a few drinks in town. The Detours were in their usual spot on the beach wall, joined by various Talismen; Lee joined the rest of the Pacemakers in a more energetic pub crawl and we all ended up at our hotel for a soul night. However, it was only attended by about 5 people and then the bar shut at 11pm! Most people drifted away but Gary, Lin, Stacey and us were left chatting til gone midnight, much to the annoyance of the hotel manager who was desperate to lock up.
Sunday dawned, and it was perfect rideout weather for the Guiness World Record attempt, again to raise money for the Robert Sebbage appeal. Various scooterists are also riding a Model D around the coastline to raise funds, and this scooter would head the line of the hundreds of scooters expected. The current record was 450, but as nobody knew how many to expect we didn't know for certain if we could beat it. Lee did some last minute adjustments to his carb and went to the start - whereas I drove to the end point to photograph the scooters that made it to the Rugby Club in Sandown. There were twelve 'counters', all with their thumbs poised, headed by Mark Fleming and John himself. At around 1.30 the scooters started arriving, causing traffic chaos in the narrow residential road that leads to the clubhouse. And they just kept coming and coming. Young and old, from children in sidecars (and dogs too!) to pensioners, all on their chosen model of scooter. Loads of pink scooters, and men dressed in pink! Mod style, choppers, autos, vintage, modern - it was an amazing sight and very emotional (for me, in my heightened-hormonal state).
After about 45 minutes I got a call from Lee to say he'd run out of petrol. AGAIN! Apparantly there was a 'Bermuda triangle' area along the rideout where 5 scooters (all Lambrettas - who would have thought it?!) had broken down. I couldn't do anything about it as my car was hemmed in so I continued to take photos while he tried to get it going. Over an hour after the first scooter had arrived, they were still streaming through the gate and the 'counters' had passed the 1000 mark. Eventually, the queue of scooters started to thin, and the final tally stood at over 1600 bikes. Quite an amazing spectacle and a brilliant effort by everybody involved. I believe the count will be 1100 for the purposes of Guiness, as that was the number of scooters in an unbroken line.
Both Sticky and Parker had offered to rescue Lee with a petrol can, but by now he'd got some petrol from another broken-down bike and it hadn't cured the problem. So I retraced the rideout route to find him. He was with another bike from the custom show - Scum - and also a roadside rescue man. A helpful van-driver was offering his services for the weekend, and undercutting the big boys who were charging £75 to take a scooter away. He was charging a bargain £25 instead.... However, Lee was determined not to give up trying, and was amazingly calm (for him) about the whole situation.
Whilst white-van-man took Scum back to the campsite for mechanical attention, Lee cleaned out his carb, emptied the petrol tank and refilled it with new petrol (following advice that there was dodgy petrol on the island). It would start, but not keep going for long before conking out again. So when the rescue man returned we paid him the money and Lee got a lift back to Smallbrook Stadium. I went up to Tesco to get more petrol and by the time I got back his bike was sorted. I couldn't believe what the problem had been - identified by Nick from Ital. The world's most expensive spark plug - £40 in all - in rescue costs, two cans of petrol, plus the spark plug itself. Grrrr..... Why on earth Lee didn't have a spare, I still don't know....
Anyway, not only was 26th August 2007 the date of the world record rideout, it was also Emma Cox's 40th birthday! To mark this momentous milestone she'd organised a soiree at the Sloop pub, which was meant to start at 4pm. Due to our mechanical problems we were running late, so Lee and I dashed back to get changed and headed out to join Emma's gang. We had a lovely meal, followed by a speech from Dave Porter, a semi-strip by Wolfie and a cake with candles from the staff at the pub. A nice chilled-out end to a hectic day. And so back into town for the final evening of the weekend. We hooked up with the Choirboys in the Crown and had a good laugh, despite a minor kerfuffle outside one bar where an idiot smoker refused to move his cigarette away from my face, saying it was my fault and I should move. So I escaped to Yelf's where Champs had surfaced and joined us for a drink. We then carried on down the hill and ended up at the Balcony for the VFM do. It was busy and I even managed a dance, while Lee flew the flag for Morrissey with an (almost) solo effort to The Last Of The Gang To Die. Eventually my tiredness overtook me and we headed off, but it was after 1 o'clock so I thought I'd done quite well, especially as I was stone cold sober!
Sunday dawned and Lee was feeling rather hungover. The journey home was thankfully uneventful though - no breakdowns, no running-out-of-petrol and nothing falling off the scooter. Lee just had the hangover to contend with. I can't even remember what a hangover feels like!