Isle of Wight 2001  PHOTOS 

After a 10-hour flight from L A the night before, I woke up early on Friday morning to meet two scooter kids, Gregor and Sara. Who were giving me a lift to the ferry where I was supposed to meet my friend Tim. The trip was only 50 miles to Portsmouth, at the southern trip of England. More than two hours after dodging traffic and taking smoke breaks, we made it. I was lucky that Tim had made reservations for us to take the ferry at 2:30, even though they made us go on the 3:00 trip. Crossing the most expensive strip of water in the world ($45 for Tim, the scooter and me) was exciting, Once we got to the island, my view of what a scooter rally is supposed to be like changed. On Friday, we set up camp. We stationed our tents close to an area we knew we could find among all the hundreds of tents at 3:00am, in the dark, and drunk off our asses. Not that our plan worked on Saturday night. We spent a good 45 minuets looking for our tent. After we finished setting up, we were off to the only grocery store trip of the entire weekend. Funny thing, I don't think we brought a single item of food.... As soon as we arrived back to the campground, we set off down town. The V F M [ value for money ], the group that host most of the larger rallies in England, had chartered buses for campers to get to the down-town area where the event were staged. This was a huge relief knowing that you didn't have to risk getting a DUI. We hit our first stop, which. if I remember right, was the King's Lid Pub. Massive amounts of people were on the streets, drinking and having a great time. We spent a few hours getting acquainted with other scooterists. Afterward, we walked over to the ice skating rink where there were bands and DJs. The rink was huge and it was just busy enough for us to get some drinks and have a great time. Sunday morning started around 8:am, with no time to recover from screaming headaches. We were off to the pub around 10:00. I couldn't look at food or drink for the first hour or so but that ended quickly. After hours going from pub to pub, we decided to go back to the campsite and freshen up for the evening's festivities. The plan was the same as the first night-first King's Lud Pub and then over to the ice rink. This time when we got to the rink around 10:pm, it was packed! there thousands of people dancing and one little bar. At 2:am headed back to the campsite where I met the Slackers S. C, Baby and Peter G. [ they were the famous club known to matt-black any scooter in less than an hour ). After a couple hours of throwing beer at Baby, I tried to find my way back to the tent. After searching for 45 minutes. someone recognized me and showed me the way-thanks again you who ever that was! Sunday was the day of the big ride out. Verena, my German pal living in England who graciously put me up for the entire two weeks, gave me a ride downtown to where people where gartering. After breakfast , we went over to the lot where we were supposed to meet. Thousands and thousands of scooters were all you could see. After about an hour wait, people were being rounded up to ride out. I staged myself across the street from the exit to watch the ride. Traffic stopped, people  got out of their cars, and all the locals lined the streets in rows and rows to watch the event. For 18 minutes, scooters came out of the lot in rows of  four and five. My friends and I messed around for awhile after they had left and noticed about 1000  scooters didn't even participate in the ride, not to mention the people still at the roundabout  and back at the camp sites. When we left 15 minutes later, we caught up with the ride. People had come out of their houses and set up chars to watch the scooters. After the ride out, it was back to the pub for the rest of the day. It actually rained most of the day, but we stayed inside the entire time. The pubs were packed with scooterists. Sunday night was by far the best because only the hardcore were left to party the night away. The rink went crazy with great music and dancing. One thing I have to mention is the way the English dance. It is so cool More men dance than women, and the way they dance is indescribable. Sometime during the evening, Clare dumped her entire bottle of water over my head, down my pants, and down my shirt. Soon after that I remember taking off my shirt and throwing it over the rail. Then I ended up with Tim's jacket and I was dancing the American way [ a lot of booty shakin' ]. Whatever happened the night was memorable for many. Monday came too soon and it was heartbreaking to know we had to end the weekend. After all of my travels through Isle of Wight and Mersea Island the next weekend, I want to thank every scooterist I met, ever person who gave me a ride or brought me a drink, and most of all, Tim, Verena, Andy, Rob, Clare, Russ, Shawn, Martyn, Mick, Glen, Tony, Sharon, Peter G, Baby, Jamie and the guy with the bone through his nose.

By Christine Hyder   U S A   ii