‘BOLLOCKS!’ they shout, quickly followed by ‘VESPAS!’. Anyone passing would assume this bunch of bikers had an odd form of two-wheeled Tourette’s, but this is The Randomers posing for a group photo before their first ever spring run.
Within less than a minute of arriving at the small sports club, someone had come over, introduced himself and handed us some flyers for their next event. It was to be the beginning of a very chilled and welcoming day.
The Randomers are based around Knapton, Norfolk, and are a relatively new club, about two years old. The guys who started it all began on 125s (as many of us do) and were disappointed that some clubs wouldn’t let them in, so they started their own. Their name comes from their attitude towards new members – they have no restrictions on who can join or what they ride (apart from 50cc bikes “just cos they can’t keep up when we have a ride-out”). This makes their group a varied one; from 125s still on L-plates to Gold Wing trikes, and they encourage interested people to come along even if they can’t ride yet, in the hope that they’ll enjoy it and get into bikes.
We were given steaming tea and coffee and introduced to so many people I soon lost track of all their names (sorry!). Then we got to snapping some photos of the machines in attendance and everyone seemed more than happy to talk to us about what they’d modified (including a Harley with a state-of-the-art exhaust pipe fastening device, commonly referred to as ‘a bit of wire’), bones they’d broken, and hangovers they were still suffering from. As one member showed us his pride and joy, he said he was never going to build another one. “What’s that other piece of shit in the shed doing then?” shouted his missus.
“Er, that one doesn’t count…” came his reply.
After a delayed start waiting for stragglers to arrive, everyone got suited and booted for their 60 mile ride and they filed out into the beautiful Norfolk countryside. As they left I noticed a children’s bouncer in the neighbouring play park in the shape of a red elephant, and I wondered how long (and how many beers) it’d be before a big hairy biker was caught trying to ride it during the evening do. I’m guessing less than twenty minutes.
And I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t do it myself …Enjoy more Back Street Heroes reading in the monthly magazine. Click here to subscribe.