You know when you look at some of the advertising photos those expensive, hipster, scruffy-posh brands put out. The people look like their having such a jolly good time but you think, “ahhh its so pretentious, so staged…” Well this is that rally where they are taken. And you know what…
They aren’t staged. All the wide smiles and action shots are real. Yeah, everyone likes dressing up a bit characterfully, a bit strange or a bit retro, basically because it’s fun to be unique and match the bike. Or completely not match the bike. Or have some sort of theme, or a great big fluffy afro on your helmet. Its all done to just have as much fun as possible and make the whole event as eclectic as possible.
And, this is the first rally I’ve been to where you actually get to do some racing. Edd got his race sticker thru the post so made himself a number-plate, but mine didn’t. After a short queue, I had checked I was registered to race and I went straight off to line up for the Malle Scramble.
This is a mass tour around the grounds of Grimsthorpe Castle. Every type of bike is invited for this 2 ish mile, slow ish ride. There must have been 2-300 bikes lined up at the top of the hill ready to go but I was pretty much the only one with full aluminium panniers on a modern adventure bike. Most bikes racing and touring here are vintage off-road bikes or customs or cafe racers. So whilst I had a suitable bike for the Malle Scramble, I was noticeably wider and bigger than the rest… story of my life! As we set off down the hill on tarmac, engines revving, it quickly turned to gravel and packed earth. With that many bikes, we were throwing up a huge dust cloud that swamped us all and drifted off across the fields. I followed the bikes in front as we wound thru the hills till we got to an, optional for most, river ford. I say “for most” because there was a small wooden footbridge that would allow you and your bike to avoid getting wet. But my panniers were too wide to fit, so into the water i went. Those years of going to Yamaha off-road school definitely helped because i crossed the ford without getting stuck or falling off. But i did get quite wet and the bike was now soaked, ready to pick up a load more dust on the way back to the rally hub.
Big smile firmly plastered across my face, along with mud and dust, we went for a wander around the main compound. There were a few bike manufacturers with stalls; Norton and Royal Enfield were the only well known brands. We had a nosey in the shop stalls selling bike gear and tshirts etc but then found a barber giving haircuts next to a tattooist.
Side stepping that peer pressure moment, we went and lined up for the Wall Of Death. Here we enjoyed watching three 1940’s grinning nutcases hurl bikes around the inside wall of the worlds largest barrel. We stood and peered over the edge as a horizontal gentleman on a horizontal bike came whizzing past, sometimes not even holding onto the handle bars. Nutters.
The next race and one that edd was booked onto from the start was the Malle Dash; a road sprint timed across 1/8th of a mile. From a standing start with your left hand on your helmet, the flag drops and you are off. You rev the engine, bring your hand down to the clutch, in, snick into 1st, and feed it out as quickly as possible for a fast start before jumping up the gears as fast as your bike will go. Again, every bike can enter and give it a go, so there is a huge variety of vintage military bikes, modern motorcross bikes, custom choppers and me on my be-panniered adventure bike.
Rarely in the real world is there a set of traffic lights before a long straight (ish) road, without cops, people pulling out on your or dodgy surfaces. You might make a quick 1st gear getaway, before kissing the speed limit and then settling back down, but never as fast and hard as you can thru each gear. And that’s why, as fun as it was, it was also quite scary and I’ve no idea how fast I went. The bit of road you are lined up before, is one lane wide with grass either side and only straight-ish. But the “ish” is a problem when you are laying down a hot line of rubber. I couldn’t look down at the Speedo because straight-ish become increasingly corner-y the faster you go. To the point that I was leaning over far further than i really wanted to be at far faster speed than I really felt comfortable. The 990cc engine in the KTM SMT is a magnificent example of engineering exceeding (this) mans ability. I backed off the throttle a bit before the finish flag and just concentrated on keeping the bike on the tarmac. As soon as I passed the flag I was hard on the brakes to avoid the barriers. It was exhilarating and my exhaust sounded amazing under full load. I’ve no idea who the winner of the day was, that’s not the point.
1 surprisingly good pizza later and Edd couldn’t resist going out with the 2nd scramble of the day. Even if he should have had knobbly tyres on, it was fine. Most of it was packed earth farm track. I went around again, because, why not. The bike was already mucky from the first time and all the dust being kicked up, some more made it look like a truly authentic adventure bike. Probably more authentic than all the GS’s in London put together.
The final event of the day was The Art Of The Sprint. Arrayed in the courtyard, in front of the stately manor house, were about 30 beautiful, rare or odd machines. We had a wander around ogling at them before taking a seat on the grass behind some extremely safe barrier tape. There was a real mix of bikes. Diesel chuggers, homemade IED-looking electric bikes, wacky contraptions, pantomime plague doctor theme bikes, vintage scooters, super rare classics, beautifully crafted customs and no compromise drag racers. This event was another sprint, but this time it was head to head. There was a lot of waiting around while they got sorted, but eventually pairs of bikes thundered, screamed or merely pootled down the (actually) straight driveway of this beautiful house with thousands of people lined up to watch. It was a great display, if overshadowed by the incredible number of photographers all crowding the start, so much so it was a little irritating. Happily, there was also a drone flitting about chasing the bikes it really struggled to keep up with a few bikes, but mostly looks like it got some good chase footage.
This event was due to carry on into the night and weedle the competitors down to the fastest in a series of knock out head to head races. But we had seen them all go by now and felt really tired from the long day. There was some music on stage that evening, but none of us knew who it was and we still had a short ride back to our campsite so decided to end the day there. We got our stuff together, loaded ourselves up and trundled out across the grass towards the nearest town. Grabbed some fish and chips, and retired to the tents to enjoy reliving glowing experiences of the day.
I didn’t know what to expect of this Rally going in. It looked a bit “instagram”, a bit showy, like it was lacking depth and just doing it for the photos. It didn’t look like something I’d like because I really value authenticity. And yes, it was doing it for the photos, of the authentically good fun and wide smiles everyone had, all day. The lunacy of the bikes being used, the inclusiveness of the events, that all completely lacked any sort of competitiveness… its a really compelling formula for a wicked weekend.
I think we will be back.
