Tag Archives for " Bol Dor "

joyous sound of a Hinkley Triple – riding home from Bol Dor

Monday 16th September

Up and about early… I ride down to Johnnie and Ian’s tent to awaken them with the joyous sound of a Hinkley Triple… we all leave the site at aprox 9am..

while detouring for petrol we lose Johnnie and Ian… while following map Leader Rob he decides that he’s on a mission and races off into the sunset… confusion reigns for a while…

we stop for lunch and a well earned ‘clean lavatory’ episode… some fantastic back roads out to Le Mans… through Le Mans and north towards Caene… Gary vanishes while crossing the Bermuda Roundabout… swift, land speed record racing up to Cherbourg… meet up with missing Bol Dor companions… onto ferry… and back home.

The end…. until NEXT YEAR!

staggering, scratching, grunting, farting and belching

usual early morning staggering, scratching, grunting, farting and belching...

Cab gets up far to early and rides into Nevers (probably to buy some French porno mags)… coffee down at outer village… watch racing from various vantage points… After translation skills ala Eric I manage to get a Triumph logo stitched to my leathers… Watch end of race, sitting in the sunshine with a few cold tins of Kronenbourg… Pizza for lunch in central village… wander back to camp to watch Eric and Sandy leave… tears, kisses and fond farewells…

stand around looking at swiftly emptying campsite and decide to go back and get some more beer… Rob decides to have a siesta… we decide to drink beer… laugh at drunken Swiss guys… Gary has scary moment with large swiss guy with bushy moustache… bump into Johnnie and Ian… drink more beer… all stagger back to camp and decide it’s a great idea to make a bonfire and burn all the left over wood from other peoples fires… we discover that Cab is a pyromaniac… Johnnie likes to burn plastic chairs…

Gary asks Johnnie “was your bike a wreck when you bought it”… 🙂

drink more beer… burn everything in sight.. wood… trash… tables… Cab uses the immortal words of “Je Voudre le Log”… he gets it… we burn it… drink all the beer… pass out…

Bol Dor Motorcyle Madness – early hours of the morning…

back to camp...

Bol Dor Motorcyle Madness discovered that our calm camping spot had turned into a scene from a Mad Max movie… bikes everywhere… and I mean everywhere… tents of all shapes and sizes and lots of nutters revving their bikes too death because it sounded good… we all agreed that this was very silly and to quote cab “it isn’t big and it isn’t clever”… wandered around the campsite watching all the loonies revving their bikes into the red line… engine cut out being hit each time… big noise… big flames out of exhaust… we all repeated the chant of ‘it’s not big and it’s not clever’… we went back to camp got our bike keys out and revved the nuts off our own bikes whilst chanting “Fantastic! Look how big and clever I am”… eventually sanity returned and we all stumbled into our tents… earplugs in..

drunken slumber shortly followed… 3:00am I’m awoken by neighbouring Froggy blokes revving their R1 to the stops so that it shot out big flames and snap, crackled and popped next to my tent… right next to my tent… I wrapped my leather jacket around my head and hoped that my ears had stopped bleeding by the morning… 3:30am awoken again by one of the same froggy blokes falling on top of my tent… whacked him around the head a few times…

put the tent back up and went back to sleep (sleep is not really an accurate description but it’s a pain typing “intermittent snoozing being woken by exploding engines, french/swiss/dutch drinking songs, exhaust banging, frozen toes and empty beer bottles bouncing off the tent walls”)… That’s just a standard part of the Bol Dor Motorcyle Madness…

7am… give up trying to sleep… get up… Rob is up and about stumbling around the camp… gradually the T595’ers come back to life and stagger down to the washroom… less said about the toilets the better… coffee… pain o’chocolate… cold Tartiflette is purchased, studied and sensibly declined… Cab eats it anyway… watch some super stock racing… wander around stalls looking for stuff to buy…

go to start/finish line in preparation for start of race… I’m despatched back to camp to get camera and to move my tent away from motorcycle exhaust gallery…

An hour later and I’m still at camp and now drinking Ricard with Froggy blokes from last night… Luckily Gary comes back to rescue me… grab a crate of beers and head back to watch the running start of the BolDor… sit and watch first couple of hours of race and drink beer in the sunshine… stagger back to camp and are surprised to find that tents and bikes are still there…

evening comes and, for a a change, we wander down to the campsite village to drink some more beer… accompanied by the pop-pop-bang-bang-Vroooom chorus… watch various drunken antics involving motorcycle engines, minimotos, trail bikes, standalone engines on blocks being revved to destruction, exhaust systems made by plastic guttering, burnouts, wheelies, stoppies and every other form of motorcycle madness… Rob starts the age old post-beer cry of ‘KeeeyBab”… wander down to kebab vans… Rob vanishes… French blokes are wandering around with a minimoto engine… revving it.. squirting petrol into the exhaust… we all laugh at the flames… hardly dangerous at all… more beer is consumed… Cab has a dance with a strange drunken French chap… tartiflette suddenly looks inviting… eat tartiflette, drink beer and watch angry tartiflette bloke… anticipated fight never happens…

Rob re-appears holding a fake pit lane pass that he had got from some other dodgy brits… it worked though… to celebrate his return we get another round of beers… finally stagger back to camp… much quieter night this time… collapse and pass out…

BOL D’OR 2002 – Magny Cours in France – with the T595 Squadron

Some midnight BOL D’OR motorcycle anarchy during a cold September evening in France 2002 comprising Triumph motorcycle engine abuse, backfires, rev limiters, flaming exhausts and bang-bang-banging Rob got his camcorder out.

 Cast of Characters:
  • Eric with his pride and joy 955i – banging, popping and snarling
  • Me on the far left shooting flames from the silver daytonas underseat exhaust
  • Bang-Bang-Brian living up to his name
  • Cab  backfiring the exhaust while two French guys light cigarettes of the flames (Honestly!)
  • Gary forgetting that he had just given the engine a serious overhaul two days previously
  • Johnnie  and his rear tyre burnout into the campfire
How the Hell did we get this drunk, wake up at 2 in the morning and decide it was a good idea to rev the bollocks off our lovely motorcycles… and only one of them died…. it wasnt mine!  😉
Remember kids – It’s not big and it’s not clever

Bol Dor 2002 – ​​​​​​​Friday 13th September

Awoke to sounds of ships siren and pre-dawn French seagulls...

dodgy P&O fried breakfast… rumbled out of Le Havre in the dark heading to the Bol Dor,

Awoke to sounds of ships siren and pre-dawn French seagulls… dodgy P&O fried breakfast… rumbled out of Le Havre in the dark early morning light… I was looking around trying to find which way the buggers were going, Cab was looking dark, menacing and determined, Brian didn’t care where he was going as long as he could hoik a few large ones on the way, Gary didn’t care where he was going as long as his engine didn’t explode on route and Rob was looking for a second breakfast as it had already been nearly 15 minutes since his last meal… off to Paris via a (*cough*) alternative route… arrived and assumed position sitting in access road that we were sure wouldn’t be used… we were wrong… met up with Eric (aka Jacque Cousteau) and his bird – Sandy… we were all impressed by Erics tres-bien silver 955i… flew down various N Roads… stopped for refuel/refreshments at a most excellent MAG type place… lots of high speed runs… Rob had a mad five minutes and saw off some cheeky jap-bikes with a 165mph blast… Brian didn’t notice because he was too busy cackling into his helmet while trying to pull wheelies in 6th… Sandy broke her land speed record when Eric signaled too calm down but she read the signal as a ‘gun it’ instruction… cruised into Magny Cours and found a nice calm camping spot… parked bikes in a line… pitched tents around them… Rob scared everybody by taking his shirt off… wandered into the village for a few beers… drunk beer… some more beer… had a look around the stalls selling BolDor stuff… back to bar for more beer… Rob bought an exceedingly dodgy blue sweat shirt… watched the stunt biking on the start/finish line… strolled back to camp at aprox midnight…y morning light… I was looking around trying to find which way the buggers were going, Cab was looking dark, menacing and determined, Brian didn’t care where he was going as long as he could hoik a few large ones on the way, Gary didn’t care where he was going as long as his engine didn’t explode on route and Rob was looking for a second breakfast as it had already been nearly 15 minutes since his last meal… off to Paris via a (*cough*) alternative route… arrived and assumed position sitting in access road that we were sure wouldn’t be used… we were wrong… met up with Eric (aka Jacque Cousteau) and his bird – Sandy… we were all impressed by Erics tres-bien silver 955i… flew down various N Roads… stopped for refuel/refreshments at a most excellent MAG type place… lots of high speed runs… Rob had a mad five minutes and saw off some cheeky jap-bikes with a 165mph blast… Brian didn’t notice because he was too busy cackling into his helmet while trying to pull wheelies in 6th… Sandy broke her land speed record when Eric signaled too calm down but she read the signal as a ‘gun it’ instruction… cruised into Magny Cours and found a nice calm camping spot… parked bikes in a line… pitched tents around them… Rob scared everybody by taking his shirt off… wandered into the village for a few beers… drunk beer… some more beer… had a look around the stalls selling BolDor stuff… back to bar for more beer… Rob bought an exceedingly dodgy blue sweat shirt… watched the stunt biking on the start/finish line… strolled back to camp at aprox midnight…