Not so Warmwell Scooter Rally | RALLERY
Warmwell is the South West Scooter Club end of season rally, and being organised by the SWSC it’s always good.
Situated between Dorchester and Weymouth in Dorset in a Parkdean Holiday Resort you can leave the tent at home and as it has a dry ski slope you can also break bones without falling off a scoot.
Being stuck in the middle of November you can pretty well guarantee it’s going to be a cold ride, with rain and wind as potential unpleasant bonuses, so the week preceding the rally is always spent glued to the weather forecast and hoping it’s going to be good. This year didn’t look very promising, with high winds and rain accompanying Storm Angus that was due to run across the UK over the weekend, so the ride up didn’t look very appealing, but hey ho, there’s a nice warm chalet waiting at the other end to dry out in so it won’t be that bad.
E’s are good
Friday morning arrives and the weather is great! A bit chilly perhaps, but nothing major, it’s bright and clear. So all my worries are forgotten as I get ready to head off. It’s only about 70 miles from Pompey to Warmwell so it’s a relaxed lunchtime start with a meet up at Titchfield west of Southampton. From there four of us (Fat Martin, Ang, Digger and myself) head up through Southampton, The New Forest, then on to Warmwell, all the way there the weather turned out to be good. Too good perhaps, with the sun shining through the trees near Warmwell creating a strobe effect, great if you’re in a club with a couple of E’s for company, but certainly not when trying to negotiate traffic.
Drop de bomb
We arrive without any dramas (something that is a bit of a new experience for me) and book in to our chalet and get settled in (read as crack open the beers) and chill out for a bit before the evening’s shenanigans begin. As the evening draws in someone suggests Jager Bombs…
At this point I will apologise for any out of focus pictures and any unintelligible conversations I may have had, I promise the pix weren’t out of focus when I took them and I made perfect sense when I was talking. I got to see Peloton, a Swindon based covers band, before I collapsed in a snotty heap back in the chalet. In case you were wondering, Peloton is a term used for a tight group of cyclists in a race. Thank you Wiki, coz I had no idea.
Saturday morning arrives and somehow I’ve not got a hangover, I don’t know how, but I feel absolutely fine, still drunk probably. I amble around the parts fair and ridden custom show, catch up with the usual suspects and hope I haven’t offended anybody the night before. Nobody walks off in a huff so I guess I’m OK, or more likely they can’t remember either.
As I’m seriously unsure if I’m still over the limit I decide to avoid the rideout. This proves to be a good move as Storm Angus finally rears his ugly head. The heavens open, and just for good measure the wind picks up as well so everything that was promised for Friday hits big style on the Saturday.
The weather becomes positively biblical through the day and into the evening, so it’s a bit of a run up to the venue, whilst trying to avoid the puddles – not always successfully and we settle in for the night. Bootleg Blondie, a Blondie tribute band in case you haven’t guessed, are surprisingly good and as I’ve avoided the Jager Bombs tonight I can actually remember seeing them!
The evening comes to an end and I head back to the chalet. Now I’m used to random strange things happening on rallies, but what happened next has gotta be in my weirdest top 10…
It’s quite dark with bushes and trees lining the road to the chalet, it’s raining, and I’m walking back on my own when I see a pair of feet sticking out of the bushes, so I do what any good Samaritan would do and try to get a photo! As I’m fumbling with my camera the feet slide out of sight never to reappear, weird.
Back in the chalet and it’s time for bed as we’re heading back on Sunday. I wasn’t looking forward to what was set to be a horrendous ride back, so decide an earlyish night is in order. Sleep is not an option as all I can hear is the wind howling and the rain lashing down, and it continues in to the early hours of the morning. I finally get to sleep only to wake a few hours later to find… sunshine! The morning is once again glorious and after a good breakfast we head off home from another great SWSC rally.
Words and photos: Booga
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