In all the years I've been trogging up and down the country to various shows and rallies, I had never quite managed to make it to the BMF. And for years people had regaled me in pubs and told me that the event was simply un-missable and that I was missing out on one of the seasons biggest and brashest weekends. So at last, having nailed the remnants of my battered FJ back together and bought a tax disc, I decided to kick of my biking season with a blast down the A1 to Peterborough to check out the UKs biggest and best biking event. Or so I'd been led to expect.

Tidy bikes and sound people on the Chopper Club stand. Rab's Harley was the the best bike I saw all weekend, and may get a feature up here sometime soon.

After spending the best part of a day wandering around the BMF, I now feel I can tell you what the show is all about. Leather jackets, that's what. And boots, and waterproofs and helmets and gloves. The BMF show is quite simply the biggest bike clothing retail event I've ever seen. If your idea of biking heaven is to spend hour after hour wandering up and down row after row of leather jackets trying on bargains this show is for you. Hundreds of marquees the size of aircraft hangers spread over an area the size of a small African nation contain what must amount to the world's entire supply of leather jackets in all possible sizes, shapes, styles and colours, most of them reduced to £45 for this weekend only. It's a shoppers paradise.

Some blokes jumping over old pallets on trials bikes. One of the bikes was apparently called a "Gas Gas". Sexy...

If you feel like taking a break you can purchase a variety of burgers, pizzas or exotic chinese take-away food before plunging headlong back to the bargain rails again. And admittedly, if you dig deep enough you will manage to find a few other things to occupy your attention for a few minutes. I managed to spot a small airborne dot in the middle distance which was apparently a stunt rider blessed with the amusing name of Jason Semtex jumping over a row of mates stretched out on the floor. Great. My attention was also momentarily distracted by some blokes riding Montessas over a pile of old tyres. Very skillful it was too, but marginally less entertaining than watching the kids blast their trailbikes round our local quarry.

Sue just happened to be wearing this shirt as I just happened to be passing the WIMA stand with my camera. Honest.

Brilliant Pug Speedfight scooter trike thing on the WIMA stand.

Thank god for old friends then. The Chopper Club stand was an oasis of reality in this surreal landscape, and they actually had some interesting bikes to look at. Nice to see some old friends at WIMA too. The girls had a great stand, and even made me a cup of tea. Pete on the FF stand had Malcolm Newell's old prototype GPZ1100 on show, which was an absolute blast to finally see in the flesh. I had an interesting chat with Pete about the FF movement which apparently is still flourishing in a corner of the UK somewhere, but eventually his attention was distracted by the babble of bemused questions from passers-by. "What's that thing then?" "Does it go fast?" etc. Poor Pete took on a resigned air and attempted to explain the FF concept for the millionth time before the punters wandered off to the next leather jacket shop.

"Wot's that thing mister?" Pete from the FF club with Malcom Newells GPZ1100 project.

I also managed to find an autojumble too, with what looked like quite a few bargain bikes including some temptingly cheap Harleys. But no custom show, no classic bike show, no drag racing, no burnouts. The Bulldog this ain't. As I was riding out of the gate the bloke asked if I was coming back in. "No thanks", I replied, and headed off with some relief back up the A1. And I didn't buy a leather jacket.

"Have you bought a leather jacket yet?"

Dr. Rod.