100% Biker 162

100% Biker 162
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I went to a rally the other day…

You see, while I’ve been to something like 35-plus events a year for the last 20-odd years, I don’t ‘go’ to rallies in the same way as you do. For you they’re about pleasure, about going and getting off your tits and having a good time; they’re a release from the cares of everyday living, a throwing off of the shackles of normal society; they’re about getting together with your mates and living, for a brief time at least, in a manner that’s as carefree and wild as it’s possible to be within the constraints placed upon us by the laws governing this land. Rallies are where you got to be you, the real you; the one that you have to keep hidden away under wraps during the week. Well, they’re not to me – they’re work.

You see, when I go to a rally, I’m there to work; to take pictures of you lot enjoying yourselves, to hunt for feature bikes, and to be available for you to talk to about the magazine. These days I don’t often get pissed and I’m often up and away early in the morning to cover another event elsewhere. And that’s fine – I made my decision to live this way and I’m happy with it.

The other week though I went to a rally; really went to a rally, in the same way as you do. And do you know what? I thoroughly enjoyed meself. I did exactly what you lot do – I drank too much, I talked shite with mates and folk I met there, I sat up late into the night and I had a lay-in in the morning. I wandered about and looked at bikes, and come Saturday night, I did it all over again. And on Sunday I got up, sat about, drank coffee, ate a leisurely breakfast, said me goodbyes, and ambled off home and got back at a reasonable time. It was lovely.

It’s funny, but that one weekend reminded me why I started going to rallies in the first place – because they’re fun. And that, I think, was something I’d kind o’ forgotten. And I think that while I love what I do and wouldn’t change it for the world, I’m a little jealous of you lot…