If there is one weekend I’d been looking forward to all year it had to be this one. It’s a great little sold-out, ticket-only rally in a lovely part of the world and is always guaranteed to be good fun.
This event was to celebrate Glevum Stax Scooter Club’s 45th anniversary.
We started the weekend a little early. After riding to Walsall to stop with friends on the Thursday evening we ended up very, very drunk and up very, very late.
Neil can strip and build a Lambretta blindfolded but struggles to work a collapsable bucket…
Scooter down
Six Lambrettas were all loaded and ready for the off the following morning, although the host’s (Neil) Jet lost its ignition before even getting off the drive and a backup Series 2 was loaded up instead. Meanwhile, I’d nipped to B&M to clean out their supply of collapsable buckets to be used as en-suite facilities during the weekend. Top tip for camping rallies.
You’d be surprised how long it can take to do a tour of Birmingham’s latest riot hot spots, I think it took us two hours to escape the city and its various areas. The weather was scorching as well so it was nice to get out into the countryside a bit and feel a breeze.
Ferry cross the Severn
Neil was our leader and the group plan was to stop for food and fuel before we got to Tewkesbury. He ignored all that and led us past lots of nice-looking eateries, and plenty of petrol stations then took us straight to the rally… well sort of. He took us to the wrong side of the River Severn opposite the venue, so we could see all the people having fun at the rally. If only we had a boat. Sadly the old man who piloted the little ferry that used to take you across the river ended up getting stuck in a tree and was found a few months after he died in the floodwater. His replacement is said to be ‘finding himself’ in some hippy commune downstream. Very inconsiderate because it meant we were stranded. It also meant it wasn’t going to be as easy getting into town over the weekend (although Grant was taking a few people at a time in a camper on Saturday).
The Lower Lode Inn is in the middle of nowhere, making it perfect for a scooter only event but not so good if you want a taxi.
Off road
After finding our way back through town, across the bridge and onto a motocross track for a few miles we realised we were lost again and resorted to Google Maps (despite having been to the rally twice before). This was the point when fuel became an issue, my Series One cut out just before the turn-off for the pub. I put a litre in from a can in the glovebox and it refused to start. I ended up changing the plug (the spark was ok), checked fuel was getting to the carb (it was) and it still wouldn’t start. We gave it a bump as a last resort and it fired into life (probable cause: low fuel = muck from the tank and shit in the carb).
Some idiot in a speeding van almost took us out on the tight country road leading to the venue. When we got to the gate it turned out this was the rescue vehicle that had been sent out to rescue me! I was very grateful but got there under my own steam.
Nothing says ‘Welcome!’ like a foul-tasting shot of firewater after a hot ride
Ride through shots
Arriving at the gate, we swapped tickets for wristbands and were forced to neck a shot from the ride through shots bar. “Nobody ever had a bad night on sambuca” as the late, great Dave Gould always told us. He was right, Friday night was going to be a good night.
Tents were quickly erected in the already very busy pub garden and it was time to consume food, washed down with lashings of alcohol.
Last orders
It was a warm summer’s evening so Friday night was spent both inside and outside the pub. Lots of chatting and laughing, piss-taking and tomfoolery. We eventually decided to venture over to the do, held in a hut across from the pub, only to find out we were too late and the last record was being played. Not to worry, we’d had fun and the pub stayed open for an extra hour.
Tasty Thai
After a lovely night’s sleep, we awoke to a cool and overcast day but the smell of bacon wafting over from the pub cheered us up a bit. A full English rights most wrongs.
After breakfast and ablutions, our group decided to head into town for the afternoon. A change of scenery is always good. The girls commandeered a woman’s car (she’d dropped her teenage son off for work) and we flagged down a voluptuous Welsh lady in a camper van from the site next door.
The pub in town was a corker, right on the river with a huge beer garden and ‘Tasty Thai” girls cooking traditional Thai food. Well, I think they were all girls and it was very tasty. The beer garden was full of scooterists so we had a good craick.
Wanking competition
We missed all the fun and games back on site but I didn’t fancy the wanking competition. I’m very competitive, so I’m sure I’d have come first in that one but Julie Marshall was the eventual winner. Steve Crane won the yard of ale comp. Gutted I missed the welly wanging though, I’m a champion thrower. Andy Perch won that one in my absence.
Instead of playing silly buggers in a field, we did a few pubs around town before eventually getting a couple of minibuses to take us back to the site. By this time we’d befriended (or been befriended) by a Lithuanian wheelchair-bound paraplegic. We bought him drinks and took him to the next pub with us. Then he started getting weird on us and had to be ejected (wheeled off the step). You’ll no doubt see him presenting a show on telly before too long.
Murder on the Dancefloor
Saturday night’s fancy dress theme was ‘Murder on the Dancefloor’ and there were some gruesome sights around the campsite.
The do was in full swing by now so dancers could dance but the beauty of this venue is that there’s plenty of chill-out space between the pub and the do, so if you prefer a quieter night you can keep away from the main room. Although with Dave Lloyd, Jay Watson and a few others DJing, the tunes were always going to be bangers. My missus danced her little feet into huge blisters, impressive when wearing comfy trainers.
Insistent partygoers made sure that the final record stretched to about another six before the plug was pulled and the room emptied. This left the final hour in the pub before bedtime. One thing very noticeable was just how quiet the campsite was after closing time. You could only hear competitors in the snoring competition.
Nobody likes a party pooper!
The end?
That’s it! After some fine times at the Lower Lode, put on by Glevum Stax they’ve decided to call it a day and there will be no more (according to big chief Dicko). It’s been a blast though, one of the true jewels in the rally calendar. An event with the right kind of people, lots of scooters and plenty of tents. A true back-to-basics event and I for one will miss it.
Words: Iggy
Photos: Jane Salcome, Sticky & Iggy
Fantastic weekend