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Scrumpies once more.  
 As a teenager I had collected badges on my scout uniform, went camping in the wet and wild countryside, tried to find a spot of alcohol where I could, sought out the best parties, tried to get glimpses of bare flesh on the beach and listened to rock and roll. Thank goodness that is all behind me.
Now, time for those sensible adult biker rallies! Clouds, rain and sunshine were the order of the weekend. Forecasts showed that Thursday would be dry and Friday wet so the Trailer Trash and a few others decide that putting up the mansions, would be easier in the dry and in dribs and drabs they arrived at the designated site and started claiming land plots. The Scrumpies were all there with their warm welcomes.
Quickly settling in and having remembered how the tents went up we were soon ensconced for the weekend. Lyndy and I decided to have a Costa fix and fill the bike up and tootled off to Morrison’s. Not before I was misdirected “It’s a one way system, see the cones over there” and drove over the sand trap into the camping field. Recovering quickly to cries of “get off my tent” we had our caffeine fix. Returning to find the Vultures in full flow around the camp fire. With a spot of boob jiggling; silly games; multiple mossie bites; pole dancing; oldie music from Keith and techno music from my MP3, old jokes and other sensible conversation, we settled in for the evening.
Keith had a losing battle with brambles after the forfeit pole had been moved into the long grass. Boots and Kate went off to try and ‘steal’ the Yorkies flag, an unsuccessful exploit, a great evening had by all until we all settled down for our quiet night’s sleep. We were worried about train noises as we had chosen the closest point to the railway line. God what time do the seagulls wake up, long before my normal alarm clock. We are used to the sweet chirping of the songbirds in our country retreat but I’m sure these guys have a mean streak and have fun screaming at the campers.
Early shower was the order of the day, probably a good plan as the boilers were not up to the numbers at a rally. Mind you shaving was a challenge with the sinks in one room and the mirror in another!

Back on the bike for shopping and an excellent breakfast at Morrisons. Gradually over the day the rest of the team arrived some wet, some drowned. My my, we were coming mob handed this year I think there were 32 of us there including Smudger and Julie as rally virgins and new members Tony and Lynn, welcome to the adult version of a weekend away. As the camp grew the banter continued to the drumming of rain battering our tents as new leaks appeared and we found our new porch was a bit far away from the tent. But the main event was calling and we all togged up for the evening. How Andrea managed to squeeze into a size twelve leather outfit we will never know but there were many hopeful glances waiting for the inevitable pop pop pop as it flew apart. Not to be but there were many other fleshy delights as the Scrumpie girls bared almost all to entice us into buying raffle tickets and Scrumpie boys showed their saddlebags.
The team grabbed the front seats ready to party and party we did. The music was fantastic all night and we must have all lost many pounds as we danced the night away to old favourites. (see Gallery) The seagulls must have called in all their mates for the next morning as it was louder than ever. Ah for a good breakfast, sadly not. Overcooked and tasteless and “no, toast does not come with breakfast”, which planet do these people come from? Vowed not to return. Saturday was a bit mixed with some of the team walking into Weston for a lunch and stroll along the prom. Some walking home got rather wet in the cloudburst although I had earlier rescued Lyndy on the bike and Sue had retreated into the shops. Looking forward to another sparkling evening we trundled off to Dare to Wear party. As is Vultures habit we weren’t going to be drawn into such silly games, but the  usual suspects bared more than they ought at their age. Nursey Nursey and strip tease girls sold their wares once more. The best part of the evening was Mike’s prize for best Star, well done Mike. Sadly the band warmed up with an opening sound check At which point they should have left and gone home they were awful, it was like being at a funeral at times. Boots asked me to cut his throat  but retreating back to our tents and into the quieter bar seemed the planned opted for by most of the team. Dianne ‘lost’ her handbag and after Keith went to look back at the clubhouse she found it hanging on the back of the chair in the tent!

Sunday arrived glorious and sunny. After many false starts a few of us went off to Glastonbury for a shopping spree. Baz has found a new option on his satnav, ‘bumpiest road in the UK’. After half an hour of this the sign ‘road liable to subsidence’ was not welcome. Shaken but not stirred we followed Roger to free parking. A quick latte to settle the nerves turned into a long wait latte. Eventually it was time to tour the shops, a fascinating place full of enticingly named shops Magick; Fairy Tale; Goth; Fantasy; Angels Crystals; buddas; bangels and beads of every description. A few purses and wallets lighter Baz took us on the short route motorway home, sadly not avoiding said bumpy roads much to the concern of Ed and Sue who had fun bottoming out.  
Back at camp some had already left and most of us had decided that Monday’s wet weather forecast meant a dry tent and drive home would be a good idea. Baz and Keith and a couple of others deciding the evening’s entertainment might be better, decided to stay for the bitter end even if they had to wait a week for the rain to die down. Ourselves and Ed formed a huge convoy of two, a clear road home speeded our journey. We were only caught up by three singles, Roger, Chris and Mike on the home stretch just before being bought down to five mph to pass the smouldering wreck of someone daft enough to drive a car. Soon past and thankfully home before nightfall. The end for us of a great rally.

Peter and Lyndy

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