Chapter 68
Triggered Memories
From the beginning of time until the last star dies.
( Photo 1 ) . Nash Point, on top of the cliff is what is left of the 4,500 year old Iron aged fort, most it as been washed away by the constant pounding of the waves over that last four millennia, down on the lower right side of the photo is where we held our parties and where Tony dog sleep`d that night and where I watched the glow of the plankton struggle against the darkness, the tide is out exposing the rocky beach.
Memories are made up from those little insignificant moments that happen throughout your life.
These moments may be trivial at the time, when they do happen they may mean very little to you in your everyday life, possibly not even coming up on your radar, they may well be over shadowed by what seems at the time to be more important events that are happening in your life.
I think most people believe they have 99 problems going on in their life at any one time, and these 99 problems tend to dominate all the little trivial things that go around your day.
But as you get older these seemingly forgettable moments tend to have more significance about them, and sometimes these hidden trivial memories are trigged back to life by something like a taste of something you have not tasted for many years or the odour of a certain type of soap that you used as a child or a place you have not visited for many years, these little things are triggers and your brain will draw past events to the surface of your mind and remind you of emotions that have laid dormant for many, many years that you may have total forgotten about, they become links to events that have happened in your life.
I was looking through some old photos the other day, I was mainly doing this to find some photos to post on to the Bridgend Bikers face-book site, and one of the photos triggered a memory and inspired me to write this short account of a long forgotten memory.
The photo was of one of the many beach party's/BBQ's that we had sometimes when the weather permitted us to do so.
We had many beach parties over the years, but this one memory stands out amounts the others, I don’t really know why because many things happened at these events which were more thought-provoking, but who knows how the old grey matter really works.
The triggered memory takes me back to when we were all partying down a remote little valley that faces the sea, this small valley flanked on one side by an Iron Age promitary fort that has been half-eaten away by erosion from the constant pounding of the waves, and the other side of the valley a few hundred yards/meters further along the coastline is the Victorian Light house that dominates the coastal landscape or should I say seascape.
We have used this spot a few times in the past, it was then a very secluded and quite place, nowa days it as become a tourist attraction with a constant flow of visitors, and on numerous occasions it as been a film setting for the TV and film industry.
When we partied down in our own personal place by the sea, it was for the weekend, full camping gear was needed, we would build a bonfire out of driftwood that we would find on the pebbled beach, home brew would have been prepared in advance, we would also take our own personal drinks and weed, the home brew was there just in case anyone ran out of their own stash of drinks, food was random, sometimes an organised BBQ, other times whatever could be found in the kitchen cupboards, Beans and tin foil to cook baked potatoes was the normal choice, for music we would have a large batterie radio with two cassette decks, a boom box I think the Americans call them, it would last most of the night, until the batteries failed playing our favourite party tapes, I remember the last song that played before the batteries died on this occasion, it was Refugee by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, the song never got to the end, the tape just suddenly stopped turning and went silent, we were very lucky this weekend, there was no rain forecast, and the sun had his hat on, it was going to be a warm sunny weekend.
It was early on Sunday morning after 04:00 AM, the camp site was now quite, the partying finished around an hour ago, I did try and get some sleep, but the main thing preventing me from getting any shut-eye was the acid I had dropped around midnight, I did this to keep me awake, and it certainly seemed to have worked as I could not sleep at all, everyone had called it a night, some diehards lasted until 03:00, I was surprised they lasted that long, we had been drinking all day including a few pints up at our regular pub the Plough, which was a short bike ride up the road, the drinking had started before riding down to the beach front for the real party.
The tide had come in, I could hear the waves splash just out of sight on the smooth rocks of the shore line, it was too dark to be sure how far the tide had come in, I was quite happy sitting in the darkness listening to the waves, I remember having a thin stainless steel comb in my back pocket, I took it everywhere with me, I lost it that night sitting on the banking, maybe it is still there lodged down in the rocks.
In the darkness I could just make out the bioluminescence of the plankton as the microscopic creatures were being washed up making contact with the oxygen in the air that made them glow, I continued to watch the shore line and listening to the lapping of the waves.
The night had cooled down from the warmth of the day, I had put my leather jacket on just to fight off the chill of the night.
When I left my tent, I did not put my boots on and walked around with bare feet, I could feel the cool wet grass in between my toes, the cool night air had created dew on the grass, I walked around the tents avoiding the empty beer cans and the randomly placed tents with their invisible guide rope Tripping hazards, and the bikes that were parked close to where their owners slept, someone was snoring somewhere in the collection of tents, it seemed to be coming from everywhere, I was surprised it did not wake the dead it was so loud, after a short walk I found myself at the earth banking, there I sat for a little while.
The night was dark and grey, apart from the oxygenated plankton the only other colour was the glow from the dying bonfire.
I found this a very tranquil scene, I don’t really think I can put on paper how relaxed it made me feel, if I ever needed a happy place to go to during any dark times, this one would be my first choice, even at the time I knew this moment was special, and I said to myself, this moment will never happen again.
If I ever think of this short event in my life, it always makes me feel relaxed and puts a smile on my face.
I headed back to my tent, and then I noticed Tony Dog sleeping nearby the fire, he had not brought a tent with him, which he never did and always sleep’d under the stars, he was wrapped up in his green sleeping bag fully clothed, he was wearing his M65 olive drab American army jacket with his bobbless cap on his head, I only just made him out in the darkness and nearly stepped on him.
Tony was far enough away from the fire not to be in harms way, which had now become a mass of glowing embers, it was struggling to stay alight, I put the remainder of the driftwood on the fire, to try and keep the fire from dying out completely and maybe give Tony some warmth, as the night had turned cold.
I went back to my tent, on the way I tripped over one of the invisible guide ropes I had avoided earlier and ended up face down in the wet grass, by the time I climbed into my tent the sun was coming up.
I did go to sleep but only for a short while maybe two hours, possibly less, the sun was up and so was the rest of the camp, with the bright sunlight and the noise of the camp site it was impossible to get any more shut-eye.
This little short memory was and is a catalyst for me to remember the good times that we had at the beach party's/BBQ's on the coast.
But most importantly the memories are of the people that shared these moments in time, without them there would not be much of a story and very little point in writing it all down, these little moments in everyone's life that are the principal memories that create the world that we grow up in.
What follows below are the photos of some of the people that were in and out of my life over a long period of time, and they have all contributed to me being who I am today.
So if I do anything wrong, don’t blame me, it's all their fault for being a bad influence and taking me to the dark side.
HAPPY DAYS.
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The following photos are from different years and various events, some of the guys you see in the photos have gone to the great bike rally in the sky and are no longer with us, and some I do not see for various reasons.
But they are still all in my memories, and they all remind me of the good times we all once had many many years ago.
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(Photo 2 ) . This photo was taken outside the Plough, from the left, Fat Mike, Sharon, Bridgeman, Cherry, Clare, Brian, Trem, ?, PJ, fenella, Galen, Gaenor, Leslie, Lawson and Beaker. photo taken early 8o`, I took the photo.
( Photo 3 ) . This photo was taken at one of the beach party's around what's left of the bonfire, from the left Lawson drinking, Beaker, Pj standing, Leslie and Trem Cwtching, Obi, Sharon, girl in red ?, Andy Parrot,?, Pete woodman, Galen, ? next to Galen and Fat mike with his back to the camera, I took the photo.
( Photo 4 ) . Not sure where this was taken, from the left Cherry, ? behind cherry, Bridgman, Beaker, Bev, Lawson with his finger up his nose again, me at the back being lifted up, there is someone to the right of me ?, I have no idea who took the photo, sometime in the 80`s.
( Photo 5 ) . Photo taken at Nash Point, from the left Simon and Julie, two people behind them ??, Cherry, behind Cherry is Richard, Beaker, me in the middle with the green shirt being molested by everyone, behind me is Wobble, Brian, Fat Mike, John Pig, Bridgeman between my legs ( don't ask ? ), Trem and Gaenor, no idea who took the photo. 1980.
HAPPY DAYS
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