Al fresco leather, rubber and oil in Aby

Aby Enduro 2011, Banovallum Motorcycle Club

As my grandmother used to say (when sober enough to speak), there's little so refreshing as the aroma of hot oil and burning rubber. At the time I thought she was referring to my style of cooking, but I may have been wrong.

There can't be many small villages that can boast not one but two very large motorbike events per year - we have the Aby Enduro at one end of the village in September and a Trials event in the quarry just outside the opposite end of the village in January. Banovallum MCC are kind enough to sign me onto their lists and let me loose on their events.

Aby Enduro 2011, Banovallum Motorcycle Club

The Enduro race (two two-hour sessions over a rough track of a few miles) takes place in the fields belonging to the farm that borders my sister's homestead (Pear Tree Log). A few folk in the village complain, other folk have been known to exercise their inalienable rights to use the public paths in the fields (and misunderstanding their perfectly legal temporary suspension), dodging the competitors - but most folk love it, turn out to see it and appreciate that it's just for the day. The Banovallum Club run the events like military clockwork - and all unnecessary noise is prevented, for example the competitors are not allowed to spend hours outside the race times zipping around, much though they would love to!

Aby Enduro 2011, Banovallum Motorcycle Club

In late summer I get to stroll out of the sister's back gate and wallop - I am at work. Sheer luxury - especially when compared to the usual mud-plugging, dust-eating middle-of-nowhere lunch-from-a-pocket settings of other events! At some events the courses are so strung-out that I have to join the convoy of St. John's ambulances and support vehicles and persuade my non-4x4 around the courses to find a half-way point and park, just to have a chance of making around the course in time. Those little drives have stories of their own to tell - getting off a cross-country course in a road-car is ten times harder after a hundred motorbikes have spent four hours tearing it up in the rain... To date I've only needed rescue the once!

The Aby Enduro takes place just after harvest, the farmers very kindly delaying ploughing as necessary. It is less muddy than some events and takes in the abandoned railway track as well as some demanding crossings over the many ditches, both wet and dry, between fields. Top speeds across the open fields can be... impressive - and my part is to stand in the middle and peer through a viewfinder, trusting to my hi-vis jacket, my (non-theist's special) guardian "angel" and to the riders.

Aby Enduro 2011, Banovallum Motorcycle Club

As with all events I have to keep on the move and I usually stumble around the course three or four times, looking for different backgrounds. During a full day I usually take between 1,000 and 1,500 photographs of which some 400 to 600 will be ones that I will let see the light of day - capturing a bike passing at 70-80-90mph is an accurate science, but my reactions are not so exact! I have to try my hardest to be ready to catch all of the riders at some point and if someone does a brillliant trick outside the range of my lens then it's missed for all time. In the course of the day I have to zig-zag across the track many times - picture a man with the look of an uncertain OAP trying to choose his moment to run across the A1 with a bag of shopping and using a zimmer frame ... The BMCC rumour that I close my eyes, scream and just run like a Teletubby flailing arms and lenses may have some substance to it.

 

Catching the breeze

Once the event is over then I have a couple of days work to sort out the chaff and put some touches on the ones I like before releasing the images into the wild. Many of the riders wonder why it takes so long but then it does take a wee bit of time trawling through 1,500 photos, backing them up, editing and uploading to the electric interwebnetonlinethingy.

Self-imposed rule Number 1 is about the jumps or yumps - I never stay at any one for more than ten minutes. It is a matter of pride with the riders to perform higher and higher and more and more unlikely jumps and stunts if they know that I am hiding just over the ridge. There have been many splendid occasions when clocking me at just the critical moment has sent bike one way and rider t'other (and usually both about six inches either side of me, at very high velocity). This has a deleterious effect on my assessment of my life expectancy and, occasionally, on the riders ability to father children - try to not picture the chap above making a bad landing... The female riders are far too sensible to indulge in such nonsense as amusing me and are a lot safer to photograph!

This leads to rule Number 1½ - if a rider drops it then I make a point of not seeing and, unless I know for sure they won't mind, of not photographing it. No-one wants their mates to see them picking up the pieces or hopping around the Lincolnshire countryside with tears in their eyes and hands full of dented, er, of bruised.. um, hands full of ... anatomy.

Is it fun? Yeah, just a little bit.

Would I do it for free? Well, in the case of this local club, if no-one buys the images, I do!

Roll on 2012 Season.