Island Invasion Rally 2005

Words by: Turra Tart

Hmmmm……this is a tentative attempt at writing something worth reading after the express wishes of ‘the man in charge-ish’…..and I do wonder if he knows how traumatic this infliction is for me?(Only joking….I think!) I’m convinced this is some sort of archaic initiation thing for new members. However, anyone wanting to bore themselves beyond belief……read on.

Ok….first of all, I have to own up to the most heinous of crimes……I had to go in the car!

Right, got that out of the way…hecklers form an orderly queue..lol...oh and apologies for no piccies...I had treated meself to a new fangled camera/phone gadget the day before, but being oblivious to the fact I was in secret training as a reporter of rally nonsense didn't use it coz being new and shiny didnae want to get it wet (as all will be revealed...read on bravehearts!)

So, Friday dawned beautifully sunny and warm….one of the upsides of taking 4 wheels is the luxury of throwing ‘extras’ in with gay abandon. Extra thick sleeping bag, extra blanket, extra food, extra clothes, extra booze, extrabluddyeverything really…

Set off mid morning, music blasting, shades on, on the open road…ladidadida

Having checked the ferry prices decided it would be cheaper to go the scenic route, even allowing for the extra mileage, and catch the ferry at Colintraive. Made good time to Stirling in glorious sunshine, but as I progressed around Loch Lomond some very dark threatening clouds appeared, quickly followed by their mates and within a few miles the sun had disappeared to be replaced with that fine misty stuff that stupidly always makes you think it isn’t raining much but seems to soak you quicker! At this point I have to confess to wearing a slightly smug smile being dry and warm. Intermittent showers right up to nearing the ferry and then it seemed to ease off altogether and the prospect of pitching the wee hoose became a less daunting thought. Ha!…lulled into a false sense of security? The weather gremlin was doin’ a furious dance to be sure! Took all of two minutes to cross the short stretch of water, during which time the heavens opened and as I drove the last four miles to the campsite the windscreen wipers were pretty useless as useless goes in terms of making visibility worthwhile, don‘t think the term ‘driving blind‘ was too much of an exaggeration.

Never having been to Bute before wasn’t sure of the layout of the rally….but all became clear as it was right on the roadside, complete with lots of traffic cones indicating ‘no parking’. So in true ‘I’ve done this afore’ fashion.….I got out and moved a couple. A hasty phone call to Seth (already there) in order to find out where he was, and somewhat relieved to find I didn’t have to squelch too far from the entrance. To say it was persisting it down is a slight understatement…..so an hour later, tent pitched, everything else just thrown inside and me looking like the proverbial drowned rat (so much for smirking earlier in the day about not suffering from helmet hair and not having to wriggle into leathers that mysteriously cling a little too tightly….well they fit ok last year!) I headed off to the ‘scout hut’ for some much needed free coffee. Throughout the weekend I spent various moments in this wooden shed trying to work out why, among the ropes lashed to the overhead beams, which I was told with some authority were to store the canoes, there was a rather ominous noose dangling rather nonchalantly….couldn’t decide whether this was some quaint island custom for dealing with untoward, misdemeanouring scouts, or just innocent leftovers from some rather over enthusiastic knot practise.

So, after a couple of cups of coffee, decided to venture back to tent and get my little battery operated friend out ….(aww c’mon guys a single woman has to fend for herself sometimes) and blow up the mattress. Strangely, Seth asked to borrow it some time later, saying his mattress needed blowing up too….I’m a broadminded woman, he really didn’t need to make excuses, and it did take him a lot longer to blow his up than it did mine!!

The marquee was certainly something unique, or rather the floor was. Because the campsite was on a gently sloping hill, there appeared to be copious amounts of water flowing through what was going to be the main place of entertainment….so some ingenious bright spark came up with the idea of wood bark chips!!! Well, I have to give full marks for initiative, especially when it falls into the bracket of ‘Bloody hell, several hundred folk will want to be in here very soon and we haven’t provided life jackets and dinghies’….so instead they can all squelch and paddle about in a sea of bloated woody bits with mud and water pools in various places to trap the unwary and those of a less sober state, into believing it’s all in the name of good fun!’

I’m not sure whether the lack of seating and tables was already part of the master plan or that another mastermind decided they would sink without a trace, and therefore decided not to put any in at all, but trust me as the night wore on it became quite difficult to stand on what felt like shifting sand AND hold down the drink already consumed as well as the bottle in the hand. Still they say there is a first time for everything, and feeling seasick without actually being on a boat has to be a definite first!! One consolation…the bar prices were exceedingly good! Cheapest I’ve seen at a rally. Putting 3 bands on both nights seemed extremely good value…just a shame the 3rd, and to my mind by far the best had only done an hour when the local constabulary said it was pumpkin time..however, it has to be said the bands professionalism to continue playing no matter what, was severely put to the test when 4 guys decided to strip off completely and have a wrestling cum mud bath match in front of the stage, for no other reason than it clearly seemed like a good idea. Everything of course had run late due to the torrential rain making the necessity of an impromptu stage having to be built with scaffolding I can only imagine had been nicked from a local building site, and lots of plastic to cover electrical cable and equipment so it was a shame they didn’t get to play longer…..and nope, I have no idea what they were called!! J

Saturday dawned…..and what a difference! Beautiful, warm sunny day…the view from the tents was breathtaking, looking across the harbour and the hills and sea beyond. In memory of a biker who died at last years rally, a ride around the island was scheduled for 11.30am.

I had got chatting to a couple of guys the evening before from Kilwhinning, so over breakfast coerced one of them to take me as pillion…(not so daft as not to take jacket and lid). What a brilliant time. The ride was great….the sun continued to shine and thankfully these guys weren’t too interested in sitting in a pub all day, so off we toddled and found a nice place to sit outside and have coffee while watching the world go by. On the way back, came across a farmer trying to steer (sorry ‘bout the pun) a loose cow back to whence it came…’cept said coo had other ideas, and for a manic 10 minutes managed to cavort up and down the road, however, must’ve been the sight of half a dozen leather clad mad bikers flailing arms and whooping and hollerin’ that changed it’s mind, because totally ignoring the open gate the farmer wanted it to go thro’,…it jumped the dry stone dyke instead, demolishing it as it went. I still think the farmer was being a tad ungrateful, he never even said thanks for our help..just stood there scratching his head and looking close to tears at the hours of work involved to rebuild the wall. I did consider offering our help but decided to err on the side of caution, and anyway it was teatime and now the pub was calling.

Spent another couple of leisurely hours in a pub garden in the sunshine trying to appreciate the bloke next door playing ( I use the word loosely) an accordian as we slurped a bevy or two before returning for the night time festivities of a ‘tranny comp’ and firework display.

Despite the warm dry weather, and a further top up of wood chips, the going underfoot was pretty much the same…but it didn’t seem to deter folk. There were still the daft buggers who insisted on ‘dancing’ regardless.Most of it was more akin to surfers without their boards, as the more annebriated cavorted around in the gloop, but it was quite entertaining.

The transvestite comp was truly a sight to behold. I’m sure one or two contestants had done this before….coming equipped with wigs, tights and outfits they had obviously stolen from either girlfriends, mothers or grannies. After much ribaldry and lecherous attempts at grabbing some rather odd looking boobies, a contestant was duly crowned ‘queen’ for the evening, usual trophies handed out, and then back to the sploosh and splatter. Probably the funniest sight were some daft women who turned up dressed in mini skirts and spikey heels…kinda lost its intentional turn on factor for the blokes as they submerged up to the ankles, and instead of tottering sexily they floundered…lol…oh I have such a spiteful streak sometimes!!

The firework display was quite impressive, being launched off the end of a manmade jetty type thing that was in the middle of being constructed out into the bay. All the usual oohs and aaahs, and a huge cheer when one of the rockets took off at a ridiculous and obviously unplanned angle straight into the side of some high fallutin’ yacht moored in its line of fire.

The only damp squib was the rain that started in the early hours, and defiantly kept on throughout the rest of the night.

Sunday morning was wet and a bit swamp like, even down to the steamy jungle type temperature. Apparently there was a ceilidh on in the evening, where all the locals joined in, and was supposed to be a lot of fun…but to be honest the thought of a third night of paddling, along with the fact the few people I knew were all going home because of work the next day, plus my two pair of jeans and boots were pretty mucky I decided to leave too.

Had breakfast in Rothesay with the new friends I had made, and then set off towards the ferry. By this time the rain had set in with avengence once again,and the handful of bikers crossing at the same time were looking pretty wet.I waved them all off on the mainland as they took off into the murky distance...........humphh......

......managed 10 miles up the road to come across hazard lights flashing from stationary cars…a biker had come off. I stopped to see if I could assist, (knew this first aid knowledge stuff might be useful one day). Anyway, to cut an already long story a bit shorter, and for those who have managed to stifle the yawns and prop the eyelids open long enough to reach this point in the diatribe….he (the biker) was very shaken, a few bruises and some initial shock and for the second time I was grateful for having the car, coz was able to make him a cuppa with me little gas stove, keep him warm and dry while we waited 2 hours for the recovery vehicle to come and collect him and his bike which had very bent forks!

So, good nursey deed done, and one very appreciative biker bloke later, I set off on my way again….reached Stirling where the sun came out (deja vu?) to be passed by Seth, who having been to Glasgow first had lost his way and ended up taking the scenic route too…..hehehehehe……now that really put the finishing touches to what essentially was a very good weekend despite the weather. I would recommend anyone to go who hasn’t been before.

dianne

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