Lambretta Club of Scotland
10th Anniversary ‘Open’ Rally
Rob Roy Hotel, Aberfoyle, 11th-13th Sep. ‘09
Oh, how I was looking forward to the trip up the famous ‘Duke’s Pass’ between Aberfoyle and Callander… but on the Saturday ride-out!
Judging by the poor showing from the North-east (Scotland), I suppose we were representative as our brace of scooters and three souls (unless you include the one Lambretta as having a soul) left Inverness on a fairly overcast morning and headed off into the mountains, where it got a little chilly until our progress south of the first petrol halt at Dalwhinnie. This, and the self-fulfilling promise of a ‘KFC’ for lunch cheered me up no end as the miles trickled by till we approached Perth for more juice and some lunch.
Mentioning the wasp attack at the eatery would give an indication of the lack of drama on this trip but also highlights that we were eating outside in glorious sunshine for a Scottish Rally in mid-September. We did have an inkling though as the weather people had been unusually confident in their predictions of fine weather that past week. So much for the woosies who’d booked rooms at the hotel ‘just in case’ – camp or be camp!
There’s a few ways to get to Aberfoyle from the North, the simplest of which is to stay on the wee stretch of motorway near Stirling and follow the well signed route or do as we did and go for the short cut through Doune and look for the small side road that takes you straight down to Aberfoyle. You’ll have seen this coming but, as a result of missing said side road, we ended up in Callander and duly filled up confident that we’d only added a few miles to the trek. With no maps to hand, we consulted a local and were told to turn left in the town centre and stupidly expected a sign for Aberfoyle to appear, not one for Glasgow! Having ignored this road and determined not to go back, we shot on into the unknown to see were the road might take us. A further fifteen miles and up and over the infamous Duke’s Pass was the answer!
As we headed up the way I was fair enjoying the test as the twists and turns became ever more unpredictable until we got behind a very cautious motorist and had to cope with the ridiculously slow speeds and spray she was kicking up at the ‘run-off’ points on the road utilised by the mountain rains but even then, it was bearable as we could pay more attention to the gorgeous scenery. All of a sudden though, we were over the peak and on our way down an equally twisty road but with an awful surface and the fun just went clean out of it. We eventually got passed the numpty in the tin can and made Aberfoyle village shortly after. I was pretty glad Hector had already decided that taking a group up there on the ride-out would have been folly after all.
We eventually secured a cargo from the less than bright Co-op assistant and headed in the general direction of the Rob Roy Hotel hoping to stumble across the field the LCS had secured for camping nearby. We reached the hotel without a sniff of such – passing the road we should have appeared from thirty minutes earlier – to be welcomed by the early committee arrivals with the bad news that the field we’d arranged had been still too boggy to cut down but quickly appeased by the revelation that the hotel had acquiesced and were going to allow camping in the grounds after all. This turned out to be a real bonus as it avoided having two bases and the requisite number of staff to deal with them.
The funniest thing I heard all weekend though was, “Well, that’s enough tents now”, from the manageress. That was around half-eight and the camping area was looking a little tight to the un-scooterised eye but come on! We did contemplate diplomatically pointing out that there was no where else for them to go and that granting permission to camp was not a tap which could be turned on and off as the fancy took but decided just to ignore the women’s naivety in the sure and certain knowledge that the bar would keep her too busy to worry just shortly.
It’s always fun using a new venue as you suss each other out in the run-up and early part of the event and this was no exception. The look on the poor people’s faces as Frank and the lads hauled in the PA gear and some huge speakers was priceless. Likewise the very confident bar manager’s quote when I challenged him as to the whereabouts of the other bar staff. With a look of disdain, he assured me that he and the younger lad had handled many a Christmas party and this was no more than a big Christmas party! They had been warned before hand, and I did try again, but he dusted me off like so much dandruff and I just plain lost any empathy and left to eat my meagre supper with a wry smile playing on my lips.
A fantastic night of alternating between the function hall, where it was all happening, the large bar area and smoking area outside ensued with the Animals fae Naboombu holding a huge party in the car park utilising all the left-over ale from their Rothesay rally providing great amusement for us and no less bemusement to the coach load of pensioners who’d been allowed to book into the hotel that weekend; without due notice I’ll wager! Said pensioners did brave it well though and, though few were to be seen by Saturday evening, one old dear did comment that they were actually quite glad we were there tearing it up or it might have been a boring weekend. I think she was a mobility scooterist.
By closing time the hall was pretty damn packed with sweaty bodies demanding more of DJs Alex (Carnabay Records). Mick Lloyd, Shep, Kev the mod and ‘the real’ John McMillan when they could have listened to almost two hours more at the start of the evening instead of talking gibberish in other parts of the joint. Speaking of gibberish, and I can’t be too specific here for fear of embarrassing anyone, new comers and born agains would do well to learn that tents are not sound proof. Luckily, I am not easily offended and tend to ignore fools until they take it far enough to provoke violence, Sharon ain’t so cool though and challenged a group of men - who seemed oddly interested in their shoes at the time – after the second incident of indiscretion that weekend on Sunday morning. They were duly chagrined and will know who they are when they read this, ‘nough said.
Saturday then and, with three or four hours kip and an excellent buffet breakfast under our belts, we set about organising the dealers, custom show, club stall and gate before some of us shot off to Callander for the ride-out in mid-summer weather. There were only twenty-odd of us but we did cut a fine dash when entering the town. This wasn’t enough to appease our Gillie though as he mooted smacking a biker he thought may have been smirking. A shandy and talk of the trip to Spain next year calmed him down a bit.
Back at the hotel things were hotting up nicely as the bonny weather allowed most to mill around the packed car park admiring the scoots and checking out the dealers whilst sipping the odd aperitif and generally savouring the last Scottish rally of the season. So relaxed was the atmosphere that we had difficulty rustling up competitors for the silly games and the chance was lost to acquire some top quality trophies for the likes of ‘f*cked-up football’ and the tug-o-war etc. Kev McGill though was eventually tracked down and took little persuading to have a go at the yard of ale, as much for the promise of free Stella as for the promise that, if he was the only entrant, he was bound to secure the trophy. In the end he had two tries and did quite well considering he’d just eaten his dinner but was eventually pumped by a lassy in the shape of Alleena, who halved his time. He took a lot of ribbing but we did give him the ‘junior yard of ale’ trophy by way of compensation and in lieu of the entertainment value.
While this was going on Mick Lloyd and Gillie were sniffing around the custom show, which threw up some nice examples despite being obscured a wee bit by inconsiderate car drivers and this will be sorted for next time easily enough. The quality was superb though – as ever these days when we all have a buck or two more disposable income and more experience of what might, or might not work. Every scooter entered deserved a trophy but that would defeat the object so all the more kudos to those who did win as follows: -
Engineering – ‘Fatspeed’, AFP 131A
Vintage Vespa – Sportique BSL 453
Custom Vespa – C945 BAT
Paint (sponsored by Hector’s Heroes SRG) – X292 MES
Vintage Lambretta – Series 1, 894 UXC (Hector MacLean)
Classic Lambretta – SX200, DSO 568D (Andy Wylie)
Custom Lambretta – ‘Nightmare’, B120 JAL (Gary Loan)
Best of show – SX200, NWJ 45D (Bongo)
Some scran, a quick Spanish shower and change of shirt and it was back to the hotel to try and catch the chancers who hadn’t contributed to the cost of the rally yet. Brazen is not adequate to describe this low-life. We ended up having to man two separate areas most of the night and still some ‘tried their hand’.
The problem was exacerbated by the large bar area outside the hall-proper but it did serve as an excellent ‘chill’ area. So much so that the hall filled at a trickle to begin with but, by the time The Vesparodos hit the stage, the place was bouncing and fair erupted when the boys blasted out the first of a ‘BP Ultimate’, 105 octane set.
Billed as ‘live & loud’, they didn’t disappoint and there were one or two who struggled past the in-rushing crowd to escape the ear-pounding – fogies! An attempt to have Frank turn down the volume fell on deaf-ears but boy was it exhilarating as this bunch of pros kept hammering out cover after cover of everything from 60s R n B through post-punk to revivalist mod and back again, visiting some Northern on the way. Johnny and the boys may not have been amphetamine driven but they’d have a hard job convincing anyone who witnessed what was going on here!
With the sweat dripping off the ceiling, the DJs announced a couple of ‘cool-off’ tracks to allow everyone to find their raffle tickets and the committee some time to search-out the ‘merit trophy’ winners who lined up as follows: -
Furthest travelled solo (sponsored by East Lothian SC) – Rob Miller (Washington)
Furthest travelled club (sponsored by the Port Glasgow mob) – Wearside Wanderers
Best turned-out club (sponsored by the Gorehounds) – Animals fae Naboombu
Marcus Wilson Memorial Trophy (furthest travelled member)
– Alison Bryan {& Mouse}(Doncaster)
With some happy bunnies floating around with quality raffle prizes & trophies and folk still buzzing from The Vesparodos set it was amazing the attention Steve from ‘Help for Heroes’ received when he took the microphone to allow us a moment of reflection before winding it up again by thanking all those present and the Scots in general for their support. He did lay it on a bit thick but it was heart-felt and I know the plaudits he received were every bit as genuine: great fella and a great cause!
With not a hint of trouble since a very, very drunk chap was bounced off to his room early-doors, the atmosphere was terrific all evening and never more so than this last couple of hours mixing it up on the dancefloor to some excellent cuts from remaining DJs Lawman Luke and Carnabay Alex. I say couple of hours but, with no pressure from the staff, and me left as the bad-guy, things went on a lot longer than intended and we were still being mithered for just that one more number by the time we pulled the plug cause some of us really did need some kip. That said, I was way laid on the way back to my tent by Jeff (Madge) and ended up sitting up most of the morning talking tosh anyway.
Sunday was a kick in the head, lightened only by Sharon’s finger-wag as mentioned above and a hearty breakfast with some quality tales to swap. Fortunately the early birds including Rose and Alleena had completed most of the clean-up and all that was left before the ride home was to have a very cordial meeting with the management and wait for our riding companion, Agent Orange, to sober up.
Reflecting on the first dry journey of the season whilst tucking the Lammy back in the shed I couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased with myself, proud that the LCS had once again found an excellent venue and, I hope, provided a well-organised and entertaining weekend for our fellow scooterists. Congratulations and thanks to all the committee & members who donated their time and risked their sanity.
We’ve already booked the entire hotel and grounds for 17th-19th September next year happy in the knowledge that the LCS ‘Open’ Rally is back on the map.
