British Treffen 21-24 August 2008

The British Treffen 2008 at Driffield in Yorkshire was a first for me so I guess that makes me a Treffen rally virgin? I have attended hundreds of M.A.G Rally’s over the past couple of decades at home and abroad including the huge Euro Demos on the continent back in the early 90’s, but never a Honda Goldwing Treffen. I wasn’t going to write anything but a man with a camera suggested I should so here it is…….

I arrived on site 10.30am on a sunny Thursday on my 1800 Goldwing, I set up my tent before going to find Barry my mate then  head over towards the bar just before the first of the days rain poured over everyone. I don’t know about you but to me It feels like it has rained every piggin day since May!

My first thoughts were about the ladies attire, they looked so demure in their pink/yellow/flowery/lime green wellies! Silly dress sense doesn’t matter when one is in conflict with Mother Nature and up to ones ankl in mud and water does it? My friend Christine had some skull and cross boned wellies to die for! I declared that I wanted some.

It was a familiar sight to see bikers under canvas, many of which were huge and grew from trailers that hung on the back of Goldwings. They were amazingly full of anything and everything. In fact they put my simple abode to shame!

I have to say that It was mildly disturbing to see the odd lake that had grown here and there, I kid you not folks after all, York races had just been cancelled because of the same rains remember? What was even more disturbing was the large group of helpers sweeping the gallons of water out from the beer tent. ”Oh no, what’s happening to the beer tent” I mumbled to myself, I had visions too horrible to jot down here.

As I wandered around the site I could see to my left through the shrubs a huge sea of white stuff, on closer inspection this turned out to be the land of the motor homes. I couldn’t believe my eyes, there were rows upon rows of huge great white things, some with trailers housing Goldwings, it reminded me of that great container depot in Hong Kong that I walked around back in the late 80’sI I thought they would look a whole lot better if they had the same fantastic paintjobs as our bikes had instead of the various hues of white, white or white, maybe even have some coloured lights and strobes and stuff.  I walked off wondering how they were going to cope if the ground continues to get softer and softer. I frowned thinking “bloody hell this would never happen at a MAG rally!”

I wandered away from “Tin Can Alley” to say hello to some familiar faces arriving across the way. A couple of hours later I stood with Barry at Appleyards stall catching up on new and exciting ideas for 2009. This carried on over dinner in the smartest chip shop in Yorkshire. On the way back to the encampment we met with more friends, Barry just seemed to know everybody! That’s the reason it was ages before we got back to the beer tent, it was the longest tent I have ever been in and getting to the bar took forever, I passed row upon row of black leather clad wingers, a smile from one or two as we recognised each other. I drank beer in the constantly changing company but somehow I always ended up with the same couple of rogues from Halifax and Leeds along with wives Christine and Elaine.

I had put my name forward to Chris Hinds earlier to be a marshal so I was up in good time next morning. We got a good briefing from Chris who explained we would use the drop off system and what to look out for on the route. After we all signalled we understood, we moved off, dressed in yellow tabards, I was to do my first bit at a roundabout just along from Sledmere House, I took Tracy from Pennine Wings along with me for the day, this is Tracy the wonderful dancing lady of the duo from the Easter Llandudno weekend. Within ten minutes of the ride we heard of an accident that had occurred between a couple of bikes, there were some casualties but little else was known as yet, the crash site was attended by marshals, the police and ambulance were notified. We set of to catch the lead element and give what information we could which was a bit sketchy unfortunately. We passed through crowded Pickering and up over the moors to catch up with Chris Hinds and the lead marshals who were now in possession of more details and were busy on the phone reorganising things. I’m not sure how many bikes were on this ride but Tracy had counted well over a hundred and thirty bikes and trikes before running out of toes!

We ran down through Goathland at a slow pace giving the sheep time to stroll out of the way and for John and Jean Bates to photograph us as we came over the railway bridge, we rejoined the main road and then the coast road into Whitby just a few minutes away.
Whitby turned ugly as grey skies approached and quickly bathed everyone in gallons of rainwater.  Tracy and I took cover in one of Whitby’s many public houses and gazed at the rain sodden people passing by. We did manage a little wander around between showers but spent most of the afternoon dodging in and out of cafes. Soon It was time to go back to the bikes and sort ourselves out for the run back to Driffield which was a wet run again to begin with. Meanwhile Neil and Meryl bought what looked like two see through plastic nappys to keep the rain out. They looked funny but dry.

We exited the busy town centre going back the way we came over the moors as it stopped raining. Tracy noticed that Neil was leading us towards that bright bit of sky away in the distance so her spirits lifted, except for her bum that was soaked to the skin. Everyone was glad to get back to the site. we were a mixture of wet, damp or just plain soaked to the skin bikers re Tracy’s bum. Oh what joy of joys, the joys of biking!

The evening found me unsurprisingly in the beer tent, tonight folk were dressed in vampire and monster stuff the girls looked really wicked unlike the men, I’ve never seen so many Spidermen and Captain Wondeful’s leaping about under one roof! Dave Duffield  was dressed like a tree I think albeit a very scary tree! They all gave the game away though when it came to having a drink. One lady looked wonderful in heels, fishnets, maid outfit and a huge mop of ginger hair, I’m sure it was the same girl the next night with spiky brown hair and dazzling eyes, But I’m not too sure. I declared again it was not like a MAG rally but was tons of fun to oggle at. I couldn’t bring myself to look Meryl in the eye with so much blood oozing down her neck, I didn’t know what to do, save her or have a bite myself! Meanwhile a grumpy looking bugger with bald head appeared on various ladies shoulders, he was really in character and gurning at everyone.

Next morning was an early start, I was to be a marshal again. We had another good briefing from Chris, this time a rideout to York was on offer. We left ten minutes before Neil brought on the ninety bikes of the main body, I thought everyone on this trip would be extra vigilant after yesterday’s accident. Concentration and awareness is paramount on rideouts and can never be stressed enough. I was despatched to a junction of a tiny B road with another couple, were we would ask car drivers to stop for five minutes until the convoy came up the narrow lane, it was only about half a mile in length so wouldn’t take long. I stood there quietly as fifty or so geese waddled up from the bottom of the field and stood ten feet away shouting at me, I told them to push of and waved my arms, this just made them shout even more. My friend doesn’t like birds and was due on her hubbies trike any moment and would throw a “dizzy fit” if she knew this lot were waiting for her, the poor lass has just gotten over the severe stalking George Seagull from North Wales gave her. I avoided their eyes, they soon got the message cursing, waddling and hissing all the way back down the field.

Neil announced his arrival on the CB at the bottom of the narrow lane, I stopped the first car to explain what was coming up the lane as the guy following pulled out and dived down the lane! “Oh you bloody clown” I thought, Neil was advised and easily dealt with the problem, I wish I could have seen the drivers face as all ninety “Hells Angels” approached him! I had about ten cars sitting waiting at the top, they were OK about the temporary halt and got out of their cars to watch in amazement as one by one the bikes came up the lane. I thanked them and hurried on after the last towards the A64 and York where arrangements had been made for us to stop at a park and ride and be bussed into the city.  I stayed with others at the bikes just enjoying the dry and warm day that unfurled before us, I’d been to York lots of times so didn’t feel the urge to go again so soon.

The ride back hours later was fun, the A64 around York was down to a crawl as is tradition at holiday times, the road went from a fast duel carriageway to a single A road with two roundabouts in two hundred yards, it is a notorious stretch of road, so just two of us squeezed to the front and managed to persuade the slow moving traffic to let us pass through. The first car was full of young girls who proceeded to give me some wolf whistles, amazingly one of them turned out to be a work colleague! She shouted “OI! Are you out with your scooter boys again Dave?” I said “Just call this lot that if you dare when they pass you little so and so!” After the swarm of bikes passed I winked, blew her a kiss and rode off, thanking everyone again.

It was a great run back, it turned into a warm day with long outbreaks of sun, I turned Duffy up on the I-pod for some more of her No 1 hit Mercy. Today’s ride was without incident and everyone was much sharper than the previous rideout I guess.

We got back to the site in good time for an hours break before the Parade of Nations, I had no idea what this was so had to ask. I decided to help with that too and was given the last roundabout before the campsite to manage. I waited about twenty minutes before a police car with lights on led Neil and the swarm at a steady pace through the town centre and eventually to me, I waived the first car down and asked if she would wait five minutes whilst the group came by (five minutes?? Who was I kidding! ) What a great sight it was for me to witness from the road side, I’m used to motorbikes but was still amazed at the sight so what the car people must have thought must have been tens times so. On the bikes came, horns blaring, flags blowing and everyone waving and smiling.  I’m sorry but I can only wave at so many bikes so I just stood and smiled.  Fifteen minutes passed and I did not dare to look round to meet the drivers glare as my five minutes drifted into history! I did begin to wonder if they had gone round the town twice, I fought the urge to keep looking at my watch, no doubt the woman sitting behind was doing that for me! The last of the bikes arrived and I looked in the general direction of the car, avoiding her eyes, I mouthed a thank you and moving off.

That night found me in the bar again with everyone else enjoying the music and chatting to Wingers from all over England, I even had a conversation with four French folk from Carcassone, I told them of a bike holiday we had in the region not so long back. Mostly we  talked about the great walled city they have there.

The next day was a day off the bike so was able to look around the stalls, I spent some time around the Baron Trikes people I was mesmerized by these machines, I was niggled by the thought that they were a bit too gay for my liking, safe, nice, curvey, smooth, sadly for so much money they did nothing for me really. Sad to say they filled me with the same excitement as the arrival of a No 37 bus.  I guess If I was to have a trike it would have to be the animalistic grunting, snarling, pointy edged, squat square shape of the 1500cc EML. It just comes across as a man’s bike if you know what I mean? I don’t mean to imply that all you guys that have the former are…..well you know what I mean guys? I looked at the other stalls before returning to join Barry in the trade hall for a coffee and another long chat about another possible European tour in 2009.

Another parade was due in the early evening, I stood with Barry Tina and “The Irish Louts” outside the fish bar on the high street we clapped and cheered as hundreds of gaily lit machines cruised by. How one chooses the best of these must be impossible, I thought they all looked “The dogs B”, it reminded me of that scene in  Stephen Speilberg movie Close Encounters of the Third Kind when a couple of UFO’s came down the road, remember? I saw the Blackpool Light Parade once, I was gobsmacked then and was gobsmacked now!  Later in the beer tent (again) we all talked about this bike and that until the wee small hours…..as you do.

So what did I think of it all? Well, in comparison I think I found it a bit lacking in stalls and entertainment when taking into account it was a premier event, however, the rideouts were an unsurpassed spectacle for sure, taking in the natural beauty of our Yorkshire through the lovely twisting quiet back roads. MAG on the other hand generally only does a small afternoon rideout but lays on copious layers of entertainment at all their rally’s. The Treffin appears to leave everyone to their own devices, which could be disappointing considering the price paid to come in. MAG beer tents are big but this one was BIG big! The ethos of MAG GB is to fight for bikers rights, that’s me and you whatever we ride. Raising money to fight anti bike legislation and put our voice in parliament here and Europe through rallys and rideouts.  It’s known as “Party With A Purpose” Its quite a passionate and emotive thing to be involved with. Whereas the GWOCGB appears to be more of a huge social gathering of the mature kind, their wives and families. The main goal appears to be raising cash for worthy charities and spreading the hand of friendship throughout the UK and Europe. This is not meant to be a criticism, in fact I find both fun to be a part of.

I left the site on Monday morning feeling tired, enlightened, enriched, happy to have met old friends again and to have made new ones. It must have worked for me because that bright sunny morning as I hit the road to Doncaster and let loose the 1800cc engine I felt bloody good to be alive!

Until the next time then.
Dave Sharp