The Milk Race as a Motorcyclist...

By Bob Twigg

What's this I hear you ask. The premier amateur cycle race in the United Kingdom including motorcycles?

Not at all! For many years past the safe passage of this well publicised sporting event has been directed safely through the highways and byways of England by a team of 15 motorcycle marshals, all riding the same type of motorcycle and using the same protective clothing. Having been lucky enough to be selected again I once again took my place with the other marshals in 1983.

On the first Saturday, prior to the event commencing, we all met at the premises of Horsmans in Liverpool and were issued with a brand new BMW motorcycle, mine was a silver R100RS. These were given back at the end of the race, but for our permanent use we were supplied with Barbour wax cotton oversuit, tank bag, saddle bags and a Centurion crash helmet. We sorted ourselves into groups of four or five and began the long journey south to Bournemouth for the race start on the Saturday.

The sight of these identically dressed motorcyclists on BMW machines, varying from R65's to R100 RT's would have made a good photograph for someone! The journey south was uneventful and somewhat boring, but this was the only running in these machines would get.

Sunday morning saw the commencement of the time trial, a race over a two mile circuit with single riders racing against the clock. Each rider is followed by a marshal with a cycle mechanic riding pillion.

The mechanic has a spare tyre slung across his shoulders a very unstable combination, especially on the fast, wet descent of the chine. A few motorcyclists reported back wheels sliding and stepping out on this descent but fortunately there were no casualties.

The race proper started on the Monday morning, when all 66 riders race towards Weston-super-Mare with us marshals continually leap - frogging the race to direct riders on the correct course, and warn of hazards, such as loose gravel, roundabouts, steep descents and cattle crossings. The cyclists average 26 miles per hour, but on some steep descents their speed reaches 60 plus miles per hour, which means that the marshals are riding hard and fast to catch and overtake the race.

On the descent after climbing through the Cheddar Gorge, I was leading two other marshals. A gentle left hand bend suddenly tightened up and my speed was too fast- I remembered the advice of my driving instructor years ago to lay it down further and wind on the throttle. I got round the bend, so did the marshal following, but alas, it was too much for number three. A big handful of brake brought his R100RS into an upright position, sending him straight across the road into the grass bank opposite. I missed this splendid sight of course, but the after picture will always remain- the cursing motorcyclist with mud ground into the "pots" and grass stains on his knees. He didn't follow me into another bend for the rest of the race!

The race continued over the next 14 days, winding backwards and forwards across some of the remotest country, steep climbs and hair raising descents I have ever seen, all of which were super motorcycling roads. Each night we would be in a new town, new Trust House Forte hotel, new discos, pubs, wine bars to explore. Each day produces another near miss, another motorcyclist with sticky pants and another claim of a top speed for that particular model of BMW, almost as far fetched as a fisherman's tale! This continues until we end up at the finish at Blackpool, where an American was found to have won the overall race.

Somehow it all ends too quickly, we are back at Liverpool, handing over that beloved machine that has kept us safe over 1100 race miles, under all weathers and under increasing pressure to stay with the race. We all say our goodbyes and go our separate ways, proud to have been part of such a spectacular sporting event and had the ability to use our hobby this way.

So to 1984- no BMW's this year – but perhaps Kawasaki 750's – a new challenge, but I'm sure the motorcycling will just as much fun .