No Fuss Events - 10 Undertheben. Dance Yourself Dizzy - and other wonderful hits. LOL
This happy-go-lucky monkey has been in our lives for 10 years. That was official, over the weekend. More than 10 years ago a plan was hatched, over a few drams round the table, to organise a bike event. Something they thought they might enjoy doing themselves.
I'll never forget the feeling of horror when I saw cars with bikes on their roof-racks, pouring into town on the Friday night before the event, as 500 people signed up to take part. I couldn't face going up to the event site - I ran home and stuck my head under a pillow waiting for the trouble to start. My husband and friends couldn't afford to be so cowardly and had to face the music. 10 years later, they are still facing the music and dancing to it.
At least - Jim and Fiona were.
Many, many friends have been made over the years and have come and gone, and come and gone again.
Colin was nearly dancing, but Fiona's version of the Charleston had him stumped.
It would seem that The Red Hot Toddies were seeping into her toes.
This time, it was around 900 people who turned up to enjoy the anniversary celebration, and buy the 10th 10undertheben T-shirt.
It felt like a celebration, with Pipe Band and the model T Ford..
(School band - photo from Sandra Fraser)
This a model of the car that once drove up Ben Nevis in 1911
http://tuckettbrothers.co.uk/News/Ben%20Nevis/Ben%20Nevis.htm
But my job was to be high up in Leanachan Forest, with DJ Skimbo, to encourage the riders to dig deep and keep going up the long, long climb.
Skimbo played some great old tunes and I danced my way through Brian Ferry, Simple Minds, David Essex, Blondie and The Can Can to name a few.
While my fellow marshals seriously looked after the riders (Running Girl not only ran from one casualty to the next, but she also made tea, and Jack The Lad doled out much needed drinks for hot cyclists,) I jumped up and down in a frenzy of Old Gal Dancing. It is a credit to the riders that they smiled, High Fived, wheelied, disco danced on their bikes, and, in one case, got off and danced with me. I think it is safe to say that in many cases, at the end of 5 hours, I was in a worse state than some of the people who had been riding round a gruelling 10 mile course for far longer than I had been 'dancing'.
DJ Skimbo was magnificent and coped very well with me yelling "FASTER! They need faster beats!" As for the future, I think it was irresponsible to take on an event that I hadn't trained for, but there is a window of opportunity opening up in the year ahead, with my teenage daughter leaving town for University, and my teenage son not yet old enough to go to the local disco. I may have to train in the nearest night club, under cover of darkness. It's not going to be pretty.
The next day was another story all together. For a few hardy individuals who hadn't had enough, they were invited to take part in an Enduro event, where you ride around the forest until you come to a timed, downhill stage. You dip at the top, setting off a timing chip, and dip when you get to the bottom. The race is in the accumulated time of the stages. There is nothing remotely easy about it, but at the end of each stage, people wait for friends, partners, wives, fathers, mothers and discuss what they just encountered on the stage. For those looking for a win, seconds count. For others, it's about surviving. Some people just came that day, and even without doing miles the day before, it was a tough course.
These were 'beginners' but were confused as to which aspect was the nice introduction. Yet, they were doing exactly the same as the experienced riders - chewing the fat.
I love the different pace of this. Friends talk, and re-group to move to the next stage, but strangers bond over a bike, or a puncture, and help each other out, and cycle off together. And I don't dance. I look around and listen to the birds.
