For those unfamiliar with the Malle Mile, it’s billed as a weekend-long inappropriate motorcycle festival featuring grassroots motorcycle racing and live music. Believe me; there’s so much more to the event with moto-polo (polo on motorbikes), freestyle motocross displays, an art exhibition, hot rods and a campsite full of great people.
The new venue, Grimsthorpe Castle, is pretty impressive, sitting within 6000 acres of stunning grounds, there’s plenty of room to explore. The new venue is a fair few miles further away from me than the previous event at Kevington Hall, and I wasn’t looking forward to the 130 plus miles on my Cabellero, loaded up with camping and camera gear. Early discussions with my good friend Paul led us to decide on hiring a van for the weekend, to load the bikes in and possibly camp in too. However, as time drew close the cost of hiring a Transit sized van shot up, which meant we had to attend bikeless. On the positive side, it allowed us to pick up Ivo on the way, providing plenty of time to catch up while we journeyed north.
We thought we’d be ahead of the rush, but as we arrived the queue along the impressive castle drive was steadily building. It took quite a while to move along the road, but the conversations were flowing between vehicles and the mood was all good-hearted. At one point, next to us in the lineup, was a couple flailing around inside their ’65 Beetle. Turns out they were trying to rid the car of a wasp, not so entertaining for them, but very amusing for us.
Once inside, we pitched up at the top of the hill, providing us with a great view over the whole event. With the race tracks marked out between us and the Malle Metropolis, there was an adventure waiting to happen.
Friday evening slipped quickly into the night, with much socialising, catching up with old friends and meeting new ones. There was an air of excitement about the upcoming racing, but there was also a huge sense of relief about being back outside, in a field with like-minded people. The lock-downs have given us all a renewed sense of appreciation for these moments. Everyone was making the most of this time.
Saturday morning bought sunshine and racing. Lots of racing, much of it was very inappropriate as promised. Commentated on by the ever so polite/piss-taking Channel 9 gentlemen who, as expected, were inappropriate in the most entertaining of ways.
What happened in the races? Some people crossed the line first, others didn’t, but that’s not the point of this event. It’s all about the fun, enjoying yourself on a motorbike, with others.
