Malle Mile

The Malle Mile is branded as an ‘inappropriate motorcycle race and festival'. Intrigued, we went along to race inappropriately and be festive

Is this the most fun bike event all year? Could be…

Despite years of ‘going along with it' and walking miles around exhibition halls and animal sheds at county showgrounds, I have never been able to comprehend the idea of a static motorcycle or car show. The whole idea of vehicles is that they move; they stir our passions by taking us on rides th we hear, feel and control.

This displeasure plateaued some years ago when I saw an admittedly beautifullooking Honda get a Best In Show award – congratulations. The 40-year-old bike looked brand new, and must have taken some time and patience to get so gorgeou And then – like finding out your horse came second, not first – I discovered it ha been brought in a van and had never been started, as it had no engine internals or oil.

To me, that is not a motorcycle. It is an ornament, and I did not go to look at ornaments.

Well, nothing is new, says any pub bore. Perhaps, but I have found the antithesis to old bike shows and it's called the

Malle Mile.

Now in its sixth year, old bike-loving cousins Jonny and Robert were racing

each other from the lights in London one evening when they came about the idea of having a petrol-induced garden party.

A total of 52 appropriate bikes and cars raced at that first Malle, within the grounds of a lovely Georgian-style house that just so happened to belong to the family. With acres of grazing land, it was perfect, and – essentially for the lads, their friends and followers – within the M25.

Since then, Robert, Jonny and their loyal band of friends, helpers and volunteers even managed to satisfy the authorities to allow Malle to go ahead last year, midCovid. Since, tongues have wagged and social media has stirred the success of the festivities until this year they needed to find a larger venue – but it had to be appropriate to its, erm, inappropriateness. If you see what I mean.

Enter Grimsthorpe Castle, Lincolnshire: large enough to cater for the growing races and the massive numbers (after the ‘rona, it seems there is no stopping people's want to get out there), Grimsthorpe already hosts vintage sprints up its driveway and had plenty of grazing or silage land for racing! The weekendlong fun starts with setting up camp and having a wander, maybe with ale. Saturday morning is a lengthy signing on, followed by finding out where to go and when. Competitions are sprints on Tarmac or grass, the Hillclimb, essentially a slalom uphill; the Scramble, that has you bumbling through the countryside, including woods and a quarry; and the midnight mile, for electric bikes in all their silent glory.

Alongside those competing there are trade stalls, including BMW, Royal Enfield, Zero and Harley-Davidson, while the food stalls offered more than a cheap burger in a stale bun. The Lost Club had speakers of interest and the Art of the Machine exhibition was most interesting. Oh, and there was Motopolo, and after all that, you could dance the night away with bands and DJs.

As far as rules concerning which bikes could be competed on, well – there wasn't any, hence the wonderful range of bikes, from customs, to 1980s dirt bikes, to Harleys, to purpose-built specials. The most common bike there? Meriden Triumphs, believe it or not.

Maria had the Beezumph 500 flat tracker and Neville used the Tribsa 650, while I used the JAP/ Norton. I got knocked out embarrassingly early but the CBG side was held up by Maria and Neville, who took several scalps on the Sprint.

The bikes behaved faultlessly, apart from the end of the magneto coming loose on the Tribsa, causing the timing to go awry. Once diagnosed, it was quickly sorted with a screwdriver. And the JAP engine does foul its plugs up when

“As far as rules concerning which bikes could be competed on, well – there wasn’t any, hence the wonderful range of bikes, from customs, to 1980s dirt bikes, to Harleys, to purpose-built specials. The most common bike there? Meriden Triumphs.”

stopping and starting, and I'd forgotten to bring spares…

The Sprint is held to apparent veteran rules of left hand on your helmet until the flag drops, when you then rush for the clutch and hit your bike into gear. This resulted in many red faces from stalled bikes and a few terribly costly sounds from the gearbox area! Once we'd remembered whether we were using a Triumph or BSA gearbox (so we knew whether to shift down or up for first), we were fine.

Old bikes, cherished bikes and rusty riders we may all have been, but the competitive spirit kept things interesting for those watching. The hill climb especially had some close fighting, with torquey four-strokes coming on strong later than lightweight two-strokes. And yet, it seemed the competitiveness was less important than just being here and having a go – it sounds lazy and clichéd, but everyone was smiling and very few were sulking after losing.

As with many events run by enthusiasts and volunteers for just one weekend a year, nothing ran on time, there needed to be more loos, more food and drink stalls, and the signing-on cue was a joke.

But we didn't care – it's a weekend of riding a huge variety of bikes around an estate, having a laugh, a little spirited competition and doing what we love, followed by talking nonsense in the evening with beer in hand, while the bikes ‘tink' away, cooling down from the day.

How can this be a bike show when there are no clubs and no autojumble? Because the bikes are all around you, parked up, riding past, or screaming to compete against another. This is my third Malle Mile and they all have a few elements in common, so often lacking at traditional shows: it is the most inclusive event I have been to, with modern, old, modified, racing and custom bikes all part of it. To prove this, electric bikes not only had their own race, but the overall winner was an electric machine from the English Electric company nearby in Suffolk. And it was the same with the people – there is no genre, no demographic, no ‘group' that you can put the Malle Mile down to, just folk who love mucking around on old bikes. To all the organisers, volunteers and other competitors, thank you for a great weekend and long live the Malle Mile. To those not there, come along next year.