Sometimes it’s nice to sit alone somewhere in the countryside, sipping a cup of tea, mulling over life, the universe and everything. This is exactly what I found myself doing on the Friday afternoon of the Annual Thumper Club rally, held near Abergavenny in South East Wales. Despite the idyllic setting of the pretty bunkhouse, overlooking a green lush valley, I wasn’t relaxed. Where was everybody?
Steve had been the first to arrive on the SRX600 that he has been quietly modifying. The bike now features a pretty humped saddle, a BSM exhaust and lots of shiny bits. Steve is the driving force behind the rally, although this year he had stepped back and Ron Spellward had dealt with the tiresome tasks of booking the bunkhouse and arranging the peripheral activities, like warning the pub landlord that we were coming back. However, Steve still had to do things like drive around half the county pinning direction signs to lamposts.
Shortly before Steve left on his signposting mission, Colin Hilliard arrived on his BMW F650, which has supplanted his SR500 as his thumper of choice. Colin has struck up a good relationship with CW motorcycles, the closest BMW dealer to his Somerset home. They are very interested in introducing their single cylinder customers to the Thumper Club because 30% of their sales are now thumpers. Colin took over the role of membership secretary last year and with efforts like that with CW, he has doubled the membership, with virtually no advertising!
So, there we were, nervously waiting for the arrival of more riders. Eventually we heard the roar (and rattle) of the four thumpers of the Dutch and Belgian lads. The rattle came from a very nasty looking FT500. Rene was on an SRX, which is not surprising as he runs the SRX Connection, an informal SRX owners club. With him was Das on his MuZ Skorpion and Pascal on his pretty SRX with Buell nose fairing. Pascal also rides a Tigcraft Yamaha, but he opted to bring a more practical machine. Ton, on the other hand, had left his rare Harris Matchless at home and brought his FT500, which could never be described as a practical machine; it was very ratty.
Tony Ross rode in from Northern Ireland on his much-travelled SR500. Tony has been all over the place on this bike, as the many stickers on his panniers testify. His award for ‘Best Standard Machine’ at last year’s rally caused some resentment amongst the other SR owners because of his Lucas rear light. Tony had sidestepped this argument by fitting a spare non-standard petrol tank for this trip, which was a sensible move.
Simon Morgan arrived from Reading on his DR650. Simon had bought this bike to ride to the Elefant Rally with a gang of us in January 2000, and he has been commuting on the big thumper trailie ever since. Anyone who has ever travelled any distance on a DR saddle will appreciate that if you can cover 1900 miles in 6 days in that amount of discomfort, then you are not a man to be messed with. Having said that, Simon is one of the club’s most cheerful members, who gets on with riding his thumper day in and day out, all year round.
Jethro Keenan made the arduous 15 mile trip from his home in Newport on his KLR250. Jethro’s rollercoaster ride through thumper ownership continues as he has now sold his Velocette and relies on the KLR for commuting. Don’t feel too sorry for him though, he still owns a new Bonneville and a Diversion 900 sidecar outfit.
As it got dark, a group of riders arrived from ‘oop north’. They had lost one of their number (Roger) en route and after dumping their luggage, one of them set off to help Roger, who rather confusingly rode in under his own power some minutes later. Roger was riding a very trick race-tuned SRX that was easily the loudest bike at the rally. Roger races the SRX at hill climbs and its stonking state of tune means that he has had to rebuild the motor many times. As he peeled off his wet gloves he told us that the bike ran fine in the rain as long as he stayed near 100mph, but when he’d reduced his speed in the Welsh lanes the SRX had started sucking rainwater into the open carbs, causing all sorts of trouble. The fact that he was happy to blat his bike along wet roads at 100mph says a lot about how fast the bike is, and how well it handles. With Roger was Judith Fearnley, who had spent 18 months turning her SRX into a headturner of a machine. Even in the dim light of mid-evening, under a fine film of road dust, the bike twinkled and shone, and everyone left the bunkhouse kitchen to come and inspect it. The full story of how she built the bike was chronicled in the last newsletter, but this was the first time I’d seen the bike in the flesh, and I was bowled over.
We received a message that the three French riders (Eric, Jean Paul and Catherine) would not be there until the morning, so, after all the tents had been erected and sleeping bags unfurled onto bunkhouse beds, we made our way to the pub. The Crown Inn is a pleasant coaching inn run by a helpful couple who were pleased to see us again. This may be because we are such nice people, or perhaps because we spent hundreds of pounds on beer and food last year. They treated us well though, even when Rene got hold of the karaoke microphone.

After a good meal I was astonished when Colin got to his feet, asked for everyone’s attention and presented me with a trophy for my efforts with the club. It’s a rare occasion when I’m lost for words, but I was completely gobsmacked; which was probably a relief for all. The rest of the evening passed in an increasingly drunken haze.

Saturday morning dawned cold and grey as my wife Susan and I set about cooking a massive breakfast. As soon as the hordes were fed, Steve and I sat down to discuss the ride-out, which this year comprised of two groups taking different routes before meeting up for lunch. After two weeks work I had decided on the exact routes, drawn maps and briefed leaders on their roles. And then it started to rain. As we made our way to the Abergavenny meeting point the rain got heavier. We had received word that three French riders who were due to arrive that morning would be delayed and wouldn’t be able to make the ride-out. It later transpired that the BMW twin that one of them was riding had conked out and they’d pushed the heavy beast for miles before getting any help.
A fair number of riders were waiting for us in Abergavenny, including Ron Spellward and Dave and Pat Keeling. Ron’s XBR always makes me feel really guilty about how little care I take of my bikes. From the highly polished fork sliders to the pristine stainless exhaust, his bike gleams. Dave Keeling and his wife spend most weekends at one bike run or another and they had driven down in their camper van with an SR5000 on the back. Simon Birch was also there, with his partner Christine. Simon played a big part in last year’s rally, most memorably when he was nearly arrested near Builth Wells. Some time before the rally I was talking to Steve and mentioned Simon’s name.
“He’s not coming again is he?” groaned Steve.
“Well yes,” I replied, “and he’s bringing his wife.”
“Really?” said Steve, “when did he get married?”
“Well that’s the thing, they’re getting married on July 20th.”
“What?” said an incredulous Steve, “the day before the rally?”
“Yes.”
“Blimey.”
We came to the conclusion that if Simon and Christine wanted to start their honeymoon at our rally then the least I could do would be to book a room for them at the Crown Inn.
Bruce Nichols was also waiting for us with some of his brit-bike riding chums. Bruce has completed the rebuild of his rare flat-track Goldie, one of only seven made by BSA, and he has been using it on the road. Legal issues are covered by having the registration stuck to the back of the saddle and that’s about it. Bruce has been busy with his BSA rebuild and parts supply business, but he still finds time to get out on his bikes most weekends of the summer.
Within minutes of arrival, most of us were huddled in a bus shelter discussing how to change my carefully crafted routes so that we could avoid getting too wet. One of Bruce’s chums said that she knew a good pub for a lunch stop so we nominated the Star Inn at Aberedw as our first meeting point, and we set off. Soon the weather cleared and within 20 minutes we were riding along dry roads. We took the lovely route from Crickhowell to Talgarth that snakes up a valley before dropping back down to join the A470 to Builth Wells. After Erwood we left the main road and crossed the river on a pretty Victorian suspension bridge. In no time at all we had arrived at Aberedw for our lunch stop.
The second group caught us up shortly before we reached the pub, despite an unplanned deviation from their route. Simon Birch had noticed that Steve had led the group the wrong way, but as he was on his humble CB250RS, he had to work bloody hard to catch up with Steve and turn the group around. After Simon had stopped the group. Steve went to each rider in turn to sorry that he’d forgotten to brief them on the the group riding rules. Immediately behind Steve, Simon went to each rider in turn to welcome them to the “superbly well run Thumper Club ride-out.” He really is a cheeky bastard sometimes.
The Star Inn had been on the brink of closure seven years ago, but it’s now a popular and attractive hostelry. I’m sure it would be more popular if the food wasn’t so bloody expensive. We needed a plan B. I led the first group on the second half of the ride, with the emphasis on seeing the scenery rather than scratching. Our first target was Builth Wells, where we joined the Upper Chapel road, a biking legend that crosses Mynydd Epynt (Epynt Mountain). The views are impressive, but you’d be foolish to turn your attention away from the road. Its convoluted course has caught out many riders, including a friend of mine, Mike, who trashed his GPZ900 here in spectacular fashion in 1989. At that time, Avon tyre adverts used an image of the road and cited it as one of the best reasons to use their tyres. Their slogan at the time was “All the way to the edge and then a little bit more”. Of course after Mike had his accident we used to tell him that it should read “All the way to the hedge and then a little bit more”. Bit I digress. We followed the road to Brecon and then headed for Talgarth and plan B.
I first stopped in Talgarth in 1996 on my way to that year’s awful Dragon Rally. We hadn’t intended stopping but one of our number seized his DT250 in the middle of the town. Since then Jethro and I have been regular visitors to Talgarth and in particular to the Strand bookshop cafe, run by the ever-friendly Ian; a man we have never seen without his trademark bandana. Ian is a genuinely nice bloke and it says a lot about him that wasn’t fazed by a 400% increase in the number of Saturday afternoon customers. We settled down to plates of sausages and chips, and great steaming mugs of tea. I ambled outside to chat with Ron who would shortly be making his way back to his pretty home near the Gower peninsula. It was a shame that he wouldn’t be staying for the evening’s events, but the ride-out is as much about people turning up on the day as those there for the whole weekend, and it was good to see club members making the effort.
Having consumed most of the food on the premises, we waved goodbye to Ian and rode the final 10 miles back to Abergavenny. Dave and Pat arrived with the news that the other group had enjoyed a good ride. Steve had led them around the breathtaking scenery of the Elan vally and back via Llangynidr. Dave and Pat had to set off for their home in Cheshire as they were due to attend a 175 mile ride-out the next day. Now that’s keen. After saying our goodbyes we rode back to the bunkhouse, where we found the other group waiting for us.
I didn’t stay long, I’d agreed to take two riders over to Bruce’s workshops near Blaenavon. We set off and spent an enjoyable hour viewing various Goldie bits and bobs and drinking his coffee. I’d partly engineered my absence from the bunkhouse to ensure that my GB wasn’t present when the rest of them were filling in their voting slips; it was an obvious contender for the ‘Worst Machine’ award.
Upon our return we lost no time in making our way to the pub, although I was slowed down by the bag of trophies that I had to lug up the hill. After we had eaten it was time to present the trophies. Because of my cunning absence during the vote, Ton was the easy winner of the ‘Worst Machine’ award for his ramshackle FT500. Annemieke won the award for best standard machine with her immaculate XBR500. Before the rally we had been so sure that Judith’s SRX would scoop the ‘Best Modified’ award, we’d been calling the trophy the ‘Judy’. If she hadn’t asked Roger to come then she would have won, but Roger did bring his lovely bike so he got the gong. The ‘Rally Disaster’ award went to our poor French chums because of their bout of Beemer pushing. The final award was, I told the crowd, for “sacrifice and devotion above and beyond the call of duty.” This was the award for ‘The Most Recently Married Couple’ and Simon and Christine were the worthy winners.
To round off an enjoyable evening, Bruce entertained us with a demonstration of his superb bagpipe playing, in full ceremonial dress.
He also brought along the remains of the barrel and con-rod that had been damaged when his lovely 600cc Goldie had blown up on last year’s rideout. Bruce has given us the impressively mangled items and we will be displaying them on the club stand at shows.
It was great to sit in that pub, surrounded by happy thumper fans discussing the rideout and all things single cylinder. I didn’t leave until quite late, but a fair number of people were still there and I’m told that they didn’t make it back to the bunkhouse until the early hours of the morning. I was glad that I’d been sensible and had a good night’s sleep before getting up again at 7.00 to make breakfast. The haggard appearance of some of the lads was quite amusing to see, but Rene’s complexion was more like that of a drowning victim whose body has been washed ashore after a week in the ocean. He looked absolutely dreadful.
After a leisurely breakfast, it was time to pack up and say our goodbyes. I had agreed to take people over to the races at Aberdare Park, but in the event only Judith and I ended up going. When we were parking our bikes outside the park I got an insight into why Judith is so proud of her bike. Amongst hundreds of machines, hers was easily the most eye-catching and loads of people came to have a look at the shiny beast. It was Judith’s first visit to the races and she was amazed at the speed of the riders along the park’s paths, lined as they are with large, nasty looking trees.
Later that day, after escorting Judith back to the bunkhouse, I was making my way back up the farm drive for the final time when a familiar figure strode into view from the pub. It was our friendly landlord and he wanted to talk to me about an unpaid dinner bill. I won’t name the person involved because I know it was simply an oversight. It made me laugh because we must have spent a huge sum of money in his pub over the two days, but he wasn’t prepared to let a bill for £4.50 go unpaid. I wasn’t too put out because if this was the only glitch then it had been a successful weekend. This year we completely failed to blow up a Goldie, we didn’t all nearly get arrested, nobody stalled their bike in the middle of a stream, the winner of the ‘Best Standard Bike’ award was a standard bike, and nobody got lost... well nearly nobody.
I’d like to thank all the riders who helped make this year’s rally so enjoyable and all the club members who worked hard to make it run smoothly. I haven’t mentioned everyone in this article because I don’t have room, but you know who you are. We have provisionally agreed that we will be holding a rally at a new site near hay-on-Wye next year, although a second Northern rally looks likely too. I hope this article has whetted your appetite and that we’ll see you there.