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Interesting, that’s all I can say to describe this Hare & Hounds
malarkey. What a difference in contrast Chatteris was to Rendlesham!
Coming from a trials background the forest conditions at Rendlesham
suited me down to the ground, and being my first ever Hare & Hounds
I was please with a final 39th finishing position.
I thought maybe just maybe I may cut the mustard and make an Enduro
rider, how wrong I was! Welcome to Chatteris Leigh and with it a
nice introduction to when things go bad, they can……..well go really
bad.
Everyone would have heard the heavy rain outside their bedroom
windows as the alarm clock went off on this fine Chatteris race day
morning, looking out of the window it was still dark, in theory it
was still the night. At this point two things crossed my mind 1st
getting up in the night wasn’t normal 2nd whether the amount of rain
we had had would call off the days racing. It wouldn’t!
At Kings farm I was thrown back by the sight of Paul Scott ‘rider
326’ coming out of the scrutineering shed with his new 510 Husky,
for someone who had completed the London Monopoly pub crawl
challenge the day before (a beer in a bar on each of the roads and
train stations off the monopoly board in one day) he looked
remarkably stable!!!
I was really pleased with the start, the bike decided to play game
and started on the third kick, lots of nasty compression there, not
use to that from trials, and after spending a good 8- 10 minutes
trying to get the fire within the beast going at Rendlesham Paul
Neilson’s (rider 220) advice to bath the carb in Redex had paid off.
Above the Boys from Herts Fire &
Rescue Service at the start.
The first straight was ok, kept low down as instructed by the
important guy at the briefing (that part I listened to, more shed on
that later) through the wiggly tree section out of that onto the
temporary concrete skating rink that doubled up as a bridge and yes
straight on my arse. I remember on my second or third lap I saw one
guy who had just dragged his bike out of the water having actually
skated off the bridge itself.
The concrete straight that followed was interesting and I soon
discovered how fast these old 400 thumpers move when you really open
them up, that was the fun part the problems were just around the
corner, welcome to long straights with the odd rut thrown in for
good measure evenly placed a few cm apart, nice! How do those 2
stroke boys hammer down there so fast? Then comes past my mate
‘Hutch’ rider 210 on his big mother Husky, for Hutch an x motocross
boy whose first ride was also Rendlesham it was payback time for
leaving him in the dust in those woods. He was going well and was
eventually squeezing in a 19 min lap, that was until he later
discovered how long his tank would last and ran out and had to push
his bike back.
As a pesky beginner I remember asking/pestering Ray Carver (amongst
a 1000 other questions) how do you know when your going run out of
fuel, “ah you’ll find out” was his answer! Hutch was remembering
this as he pushed his bike back.
By lap 3 I’d sorted myself out and cracked a 20 min lap, but lap 4
wasn’t to be, some silly little crashes put easily 2 mins on my
time, not good. By lap 5 the crashes develop in style. High siding
your bike and being dumped onto that strip of concrete that runs
down the side of one those field hurts, as I was soon to find out.
Took the corner too wide and discovered another ice rink on a patch
of concrete. Nasty. Don’t crash that fast in trials. “Just done that
as well” said the guy next to me as he was picking his bike up.
Right time to get this dam thing going again.
Back down one of those nasty long straights, I’m sure there’s a
sniper in a bush somewhere as people are going down all over the
place, I begin to notice abandoned bikes here there and everywhere,
is it fuel or another Weston beach race?
I glance at my watch which has decided to reset itself to 3 hours
count down and is flashing to indicate me to push the button to tell
it I’ve started, dam thing, don’t know what my lap times are now or
how much time is left, or come to that when I started?
Laps going ok I’m going all right now, no need to fuel up lasted the
three hours on one tank at Rendlesham…….err wrong! That running out
of fuel noise started and by the time I had fumbled for the reserve
it was too late. Time to balance on the pegs again, play with that
nasty compression and get that fire within the beast going again.
So it was in for fuel and here’s where a good day starts to go
wrong, my mate Dave comes running across and reliable informs me
that the gate marshal has black marked me in his book for going to
fast past the pit lane and I’m having a lap docked. What an idiot I
was, I hadn’t thought, just because there isn’t a crossing for
people or crossing for riders across a road doesn’t mean blue tape
can’t exist anywhere else. As a beginner I had lots to think about
and had forgotten the important stuff, listen to the man at the
briefing instead of worrying about getting your bike going and
getting in everyone’s way.
Above Leigh Bishop with the bad
docked lap news, lessons learnt listen to the rules.
Back on the course and a few nasty ruts more and I feel the result
of that concrete impact on my rib cage and convince myself pain is a
sensation to enjoy. I’ve got another lap in Dave’s at the gate again
“go for it boy”! Right if I take it easy I’ll get another one in
bite your lip Leigh no pain no gain. This time I’ve made walking
speed past the pit lane, out I go again just don’t come off it WILL
hurt I’m not far off 40 I tell myself. Normal men are at home
slicing the beef, take it easy Leigh you’re not going to beat those
EXC 2 stroke boys and how right I am 2 stokers leave me in smoke on
the opening straight. At the wiggly wood bit at the end of that
first straight there’s a few people picking bikes up, take it easy
the nasty straights with ruts are coming up prepare yourself for the
snipers!
More bikes abandoned! a ¼ of the way into this lap and I’m out of a
long straight to the right of a low bush just enough width for a
single bike out the other side I get the rut wrong and I’m dumped
hard onto planet earth once again. This time it’s not good, I’m
having a job to swallow each breath, shit my shoulders seriously
hurts now just get up and call it a day. I need a rest and sit there
for a few moments, anxious of time I push the bike in pain to
somewhere I can for once touch the ground on one side enabling me to
kick it over, how I dream for an electric start. Ok I’m on my way,
at least I’m now on the 2nd half of the course which is a little
more forgiving and I can limp back to base. At this point my vision
is a little foggy must be the goggles leave em just get back. A
photographer! quick look good get some air time over this jump,
sucker landing hurts wont do that again.
I survive the lap and take it easy through the blue tape area, I
think that’s 7 but I’m not sure all I know is I’m going to be docked
a lap so I’ve got to make it up, not one to give in I decide if I
take it easy I might just squeeze another one in but I’m going to
run over the 3 hour limit and gain penalty points, decisions
decisions sod it I’ll go for it pain or no pain! Just don’t fall
off.
My last lap and its going ok that is until I reach one of the nasty
long straights. Its here that I see what looks like a more friendly
line running directly alongside the deep ditch. I’m talking about
that straight that leads down to the real boggy area and a small
pond that a group of spectators have gathered by. The flat bit of
grass on this line is clearly less painful on the ribs and shoulder
as my body acts as a shock absorber over the ruts; it will do, take
it easy slow down the faster you go the harder you will fall, err
defiantly the wrong tactic. Bang front wheel hits a rut got that
wrong, bike is dumped on the ground catapulting me clean into the
ditch without touching the bank but with enough force to submerge me
into and under the water. Unreal! my goggles past the water line
before the stinking sludge water zeros out the viz! Ok this is not
good my shoulder is killing me my ribs hurt even more now I’m
soaking wet and stinking in a ditch somewhere where even my sat nav
wasn’t happy to find.
Normal men are at home perhaps actually finishing their beef &
Yorkshire pud by now! The problem gets worse if I’m not embarrassed
for myself my dunking is witnessed by an elderly gent standing above
me on the other bank who is looking a little puzzled as why a grown
man is in a ditch stood to his knees in water. I swear blind this
never happens in trails! Three attempts to clamber up the bank fail
and I slide back into the stinking water, I wade up and down looking
for a way up, it don’t exist. If I labour this one out I’ll get
loads of penalty points! Pressures on! I can’t even reach the handle
bar of my bike on top of the bank silhouetted against the sun. Only
one thing for it dig some foot holes with my hands, it works hea
presto my own stairway to heaven. Two marshals come to the rescue
and help pick my bike up. The marshals hold the bike upright while I
get it going, dam compression, I can’t thank the marshals enough and
I imagine they are glad the lingering smell was now up and running
and away.
Right take it easy photographer or not just get back and accept 8
laps in the bag with penalty points, going ok quarter of a lap to go
and the engine of my 98 WR doesn’t sound good and decides it’s no
longer going to play and dies on me! It may be fuel again?, ok turn
it onto reserve and kick it over, she doesn’t want to know push it
to a hay stack lean it against it and make it easier for yourself.
Doesn’t work! Vision is still hazy must be the goggles.
Scotty ‘rider 326’ comes screaming past on his 8th lap, dam I was
determined to not let him catch me, I couldn’t make out what he was
shouting but it must have been some light hearted abuse.
Just as I’ve had enough Ray Caver comes along, boy was I glad to see
his face, Ray hooks the sling up to my bike and begins to tow me
back home, my second race and I’m being towed in what a Muppet,
plenty of juice in the tank perhaps it’s a fuel problem somewhere
else or a retired spark plug.
Ray tows me back to the fuelling area and I can’t thank him enough,
got to get back to my marshalling he says just write a report for
the site he shouts as he rides off. I’m freezing cold my teeth are
chattering I’m in pain and Dave comes to the rescue, “leave you
stuff with me boy I’ll load your bike and course clear for you just
get yourself into that ambulance”
A good check over from the paramedics who advise me to go to
hospital to be on the safe side, as I wander back to the van
shivering my vision is still a bit foggy couldn’t have been the
goggles must be some sweat in my eyes as I wipe them nothing happens
and I still cant see right. I deviate and shiver my way across to
burger van to get a cup of tea where I once again see Ray who also
advises I get down to the hospital to get checked out. My mates from
Herts. Fire and Rescue service thought maybe the force of hitting
the ground had given me some mild concussion which had affected my
vision; Darren Lovelock (rider 211) convinced me he had that problem
a few weeks back and sometime or other you later begin to see again.
That’s comforting!
Not wanting to be blind for the rest of my life I asked Dave to
kindly drive me to hospital in my new Traffic van which I’d had for
less that 24 hours and was also covered in stinking mud!
So here I am at the end of a days racing I can’t see, I’m in agony
with a bruised / busted whatever and I’ve taken my seat in accident
& emergency for a 3 ½ hour wait. Why is it that there doesn’t look
anything wrong with anyone else in the queue? Maybe it’s just me or
my vision!
Eventually I’m called into a room by a doctor which was a result as
I was bored out of my skull but the good thing was that over the
last 3 hours my eyesight had slowly come back to normal. My
assumption was correct there didn’t look anything wrong with the
people in the waiting room!
I explained the sight problem I had occurred over the last 4-5 hours
but the doctor ruled out anything to do with concussion and
explained to me it was perhaps just a bit of dirt !!!! Ok well lets
forget that what about my shoulder and ribs, they look ok to me he
says just rest, are you not going to X-ray doctor? Nope! Don’t x-ray
ribs or shoulders as there is nothing we can do if they are broken
other than advise rest.
Well I aint no doctor but I figured that one out, 3 ½ hours to be
told that. Great it was now 7pm “I’ll get a nurse to come back with
some pain killers for you to see you through the night” said the doc
and off he went. ¾ of an hour later I’m still lying on an upturned
chair with 15 million watts of light sun tanning me nicely but no
pills to be seen.
Right that is it I’m complaining and just as I get up a nurse comes
in with 2 pills and a paper cup of water. Dave's long gone by now so
I drive myself home in first gear all the way as I cant use my left
arm and the journey takes an age. Dinners in the dog and I’m told by
the better half to stop winging about the pain as it’s my own fault,
I shouldn’t do these sports if I cant handle it. She also reminds me
that I’m rubbish at trials as well. “I won one once I’ll have you
know back in the early 80’s” yes she reminds me you did “ only
because you were the only one who turned up that day and rode that
class as the weather was so bad”
”Alright leave it out” she’s pauses “anyway what’s that smell” she
says?
Getting docked a lap and not finishing the last one due to the
engine problems means I’m down to 6 and my rival Scotty dog ‘rider
326’ out on his new husky beats me fair and square, with his 26 pub
crawl binge the day before I’ll never live it down.
Roll on Rendlesham that’s what I say.
Thanks to Ray Carver for the tow, to Dave Williams, I hope coming to
watch hasn’t put you off buying a bike and joining the club and to
Christina for a cup of tea when it was best needed. Oh and to Niek
Van De Duijn Schoutyen “rider 344” for proving I wasn’t the only one
to get a soaking, Niek all I can say is if your going in the ditch
make sure the photographers not about mate!
Above Scotty rider 326 looking very pleased with himself, probably
still over the limit
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