Mallory Park was flagged ... as was WSB at Donnington. No contest, really. 50,000 people watching superstars, or a few hundred watching keen amateurs trying their hardest just for the fun of it. Mallory Park it was then.
A scan of the map suggested that direct route out of Norfolk and onto Sleaford would leave me with some interesting roads from Sleaford, through Bourne, Melton Mowbray, Loughborough and then a short hop to Hinckley.
The aim was to be out of the house by 9am ... That was shortly to be revised to be a 10am start.
I'm not really that familar with the Lincolnshire roads and when I got to the Junction that pointed to Grantham it started to dawn on me that i'd been enjoying the ride (lots of overtakes!!!) so much that i'd missed the Sleaford turning. Turning left towards Grantham seemed the obvious thing to do ... and lookout for a signpost for Bourne. A couple of miles down the road and there it was ... an easy bear-left and perfectly pleasant B road stretched out ahead of me. I followed this for a while when it came to an abrupt end ... I had been warned about a mile earlier .. "Road Closed" it said ... The car ahead turned right, following the diversion signs, so I followed. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.
I began to realise I was thirsty and a little peckish so stopped at the village stores (you'll note that the tiem on my camera is a little off - Norwich to Rippingale is not possible in four minutes. Well , not on a VFR800 ...)
Having decided that the route should be reasonably random ... when I say decided, it was very much a sub-conscious decision. I forgot to pack a map. So, several detours later, I found myself in a village in Leicestershire .. or maybe Northamptonshire ... asking for directions to Melton Mowbray.
Now, it's an interesting point about asking for directions. one lesson I should have learnt by now is never, ever, ask two elderly males for directions. Much discussion ensued in a dialect that I, with my earplugs in and crash helmet on, struggled to follow. The occaisonal phrase penetrated ... generally along the lines of "ah, but down tha' road there be dragons ... best avoid tha' way" or somesuch. Several hours later, so it seemed, I was given the instruction to continue along the road I was travelling and I would arrive at Stamford, a right turn there would see me on my way to Oakham (with a multitude of other lesser-known villages in between) from where I could find my way to Melton Mowbray ... Well, sure enough I found Stamford (which the aforementioned gentlemen described a route to avoid - which I did), and headed off to Oakham ... and magnificent views across Rutland Water. At Okham, I realised that at the rate I was heading eastwards I would reach Mallory Park at about midnight, so I followed a sign to the A47 and sought a more direct route.
I arrived at Mallory Park at 1.35, admired the very well maintained VFR750 that I parked next to, paid my £12 entry and watched the end of a race from near the hairpin. Lunch was announced.
I grabbed a bite to eat and wandered around the track and found a grassy knoll on which to sit, well away from the crowds (basically, anywhere but the pits was well away from crowds!). lay down and, with only the buzzing from the motocross track to disturb the peace, did absolutely nothing for the next twenty minutes. Bliss.
The next race started, then stopped (red flag), restarted and finished. Repeat for the next couple of races. A nearby spectator - ten yards away - told me it had been like that all day. Every race being red flagged.
At the Esses
Leaving the Esses
On all sorts of machinery ...
And some were slower (that's not a criticism ... All credit due for getting out on track and taking part)
Then came the sidecar race.
I've never stopped to watch one before. They're excellent entertainment. The passengers are as mad as your hat ... and, to my trained eye, many appeared to be women. This race went without incident.
I took my time, circling the track - seeing the abomination that it the chicane at Gerrards (the club racers don't use it - they don't need slowing down!) and moving on to watch the off-roaders practice session. I must go see more of that. Very entertaining - especially the joker who decided that he'd smother me in dirt as I tried to take his picture.
Gerrards ... and a hint of the chicane
And, finally. I wonder why they call this fantasy island ...
