Making of " Lord of the Very Sore Rings "

Tonight, we are not here to talk about the final film, with its action, adventure, heroics and battle, but rather the making of the film, with its sarcasm, cheap jokes, bitching and mindless prattle.

The film was to be made in New Zealand, and based loosely on Tolkein's little known epic mountain bike trilogy " Lords of the Very Sore Rings " . I say loosely, because as it turned out there was rather a lot of walking involved.
Once all the contracts had been signed, Ecotryist and Cycle Active sat down to plan the cast. It was not an easy meeting.
No matter which way you looked at it, those available were a very poor substitute for the originals. Also, the film had a cast of hundreds, and even with the guide and the driver there were only 14.

After a lot of head scratching, the following decisions were made:
Instead of Elderly Bilbo Baggins, a Hobbit from the shire, we got Edwin Bilbo Barnes, a Snobbit from the Home Counties.
Instead of Aragorn of the West, also known as Strider, we got Arrogant of Scotland, also known as Arthur.
Instead of a talented sorcerer called Saroman the White, we got and unemployed northerner called David White.
And before the baying pack picks on the easiest target, allow me to get it in first. Instead of Legolas, we got me, 'got no class'. My dear friends figured that what the hell, they're about the same height, and no-one can spot the difference between an Elf and a Fairy these days anyway.
In fact, the closest we got to any of the proper cast was Boromir. If you remember, he was the unstable one who lost the plot completely and got tragically killed. We got Keith, the unstable one who lost the plot completely and deserved to get killed.
Finding a dwarf proved to be a very tall order, although we eventually found one in the supermarket on the second day. She said that since the first film her life had been miserable, and she'd be willing to take any job that meant she didn't have to wear a badge that said 'Gimli - happy to help'.

It was decided that to add some relevance and realism the film would be set in modern times, and that by using handheld cameras, even the journey over to New Zealand could be in corporated into the film. And so it was, that after meeing in the Home Counties, half the cast flew one way round the world, and half flew the other. Half flew over dangerous unpredictable lands ruled by religious fanatics, whilst the others flew over the Middle East.
New Zealand itself is a fine place. Discovered by the Mauris, named by the Dutch, it was of course subsequently claimed by the British, it being their divine right to completely ignore anyone elses' rights at all. The French did have a little go at claiming the place, but unfortunately for them the first boat load got eaten by the Mauris, who ever since then have regarded frogs legs as something of a delicacy.

On arrival in New Zealand, the Ecotyrists met up with the other members of the group.
These were Steve and Sue, AKA Wet and Dirty from Rotherham, and Harry and Sue, a couple of Democrats from the US of A. How do we know they are Democrats? Well, they have passports, understand the concepts of geography and different cultures, and didn't arrive by parachute clutching a sub machine gun yelling " We bring peace and freedom for all. "
(Editor's note: Please see terms and conditions...
Peace and freedom for all specifically excludes anyone not on the list below:

• Republicans
• Tony and Cheri Blair
• General Pinochet

Anyway..

They also met up with the driver, and their guide. These were Ken, and Barbie.
No ordinary Barbie this though, this was Boutique Biker Barbie. Not the most popular Barbie in the range, because although it comes with a new matching outfit for every day, including a selection of lycra pants, it is a bit on the large side and has rather a lot of body hair.

And so to the making of the film.
The itinerary for the first full day's riding states " Explore the Christchurch trails mainly to get a feel for the area without pushing it too hard. "
We climbed over 1000 metres and cycled over 60km.
Fearful of the Sale of Goods Act Section 14, Boutique Biker Barbie has since been renamed Boutique Biker Big Lying Bastard Barbie.

Just before lunch we completed a cracking piece of singletrack along the coast. Now I know that now we've reached the end of this trip, we all think we're the best bikers in the workld, but lest we forget, on this day, Rotherham Steve completely wimped out of a piece of straight, bump free track that an 8 year old New Zealand kid with no gears and a pink and orange bike with a bell came flying down without even stopping pedalling. Ahh, yes, the things our brains can block out, eh?
Later in the day, and completely true to form, Ed wiped out and cracked his rim. This was not first blood however. Unusually, that honour goes to Arthur and his head planting incident on the practice day. Oh yes, and to end the day nicely, after dinner in Christchurch, Steve D fell off whilst standing completely still. He claimed he was attacked by a very small rabbit, but I think we can probably put it down to total incompetence.

The third day's riding commenced with the obligatory scouring of bike shops for bits - in this case Ed's rim, followed by the aforementioned dwarf in the supermarket incident. Ken our driver then whisked us off to Kaikora, stopping only once, at a level crossing that was notable only by its complete absence of anything remotely train-like in either direction. To be fair, it is the law, it's just that on-one else takes any notice.

And so to the Kairkora trail.
Owned and managed by 3 families, the notorious New Zealand triads, this is a completely un-cycleable mountain that Craig forced us to push over on the first day, and push back on the next.
Now it could be that the triads threatened Cycle Active with horses heads on the bed and things if they didn't use the trail. Alternatively, it could be that no-one has actually recced this trip properly - choosing instead to let the paying guests do it for them. Now that's never happened to us before, has it!?
The highlight of the day's ride, in case it's slipped your mind, was the discussion around the fact that New Zealand has no snakes, and only one poisonous spider called Simon, who is now very old and living in sheltered accomodation in Wellington. The other highlight of course was Rotherham Steve filling Barbie's pack with rocks, although how he managed to cram them in there with all the bullshit is a total mystery.
In defence of the ridiculous amount of pushing over these two days, the Ngoroma sheep station was undoutedly one of the most magical places that most of us have ever stayed in. The hospitality was given completely whole heartedly, although Alex did look a bit nervous round the German Au Pair. To top the evening off, Shaun gave us all a telephonic demostation of how to sack someone for being an alcoholic whilst completely pissed on red wine.

The next day went badly.
The nice family looking after us were distraught when they failed to keep up with Dave's voracious appetite for toast, Rotherham Sue started talking to the cows, the hill we walked up meant that today's footage resembled a remake of The Sound of Music, and the bread in the sandwiches was so heavy that 6 wild pigs died of head injuries trying to catch the pieces that were thrown away at lunchtime.
And from those who loaded the trailer at the end of the day, a special thankyou goes to Shaun, for riding through every piece of runny cow shit known to mankind.

The evening, spent at a hotel in Picton, witnessed one of the most confusing events of the whole experience.
Just how difficult is it to say " the bag you wish to keep with you goes on the bus, the bag you can do without for tomorrow night goes under the bus. "
The diffucutly this caused led to a complete recall of every Boutique Biker Big Lying Bastard Barbie ever made for a major reprogramming. The distress this event caused to our intrepid cast has led to Cycle Active fighting the biggest joint action law suit ever seen.

The following day the cast, and their bikes, all boarded the smallest boat in Picton harbour to head for the Queen Charlotte Track. Fearing rough weather, everyone completely ignored the signs on the seats saying " Please give up this seat if someone elderly or infirm needs it " .
Still, it gave the miserable old pensioner at the back something tangible to moan about for the rest of the day.

The whole of this beautiful two day ride through the rainforest is 71km. Barbie claimed that we would be riding about 35km each day. This statement proved to be about as accurate as Cunard claiming the Titanic was unsinkable, or Neville Chaimberlain claiming 'Peace in our Time'.
The first day was in fact 51km, and by lunchtime the cast were less than halfway there, and the directors were thinking that the footage may actually favour a remake of African Queen by bike. Still, a good hearty lunch would cheer everyone up. Bacon rind Pannini, anyone?
Later in the day, the front runners, Rotherham Steve, Dave, and Andy, almost took out a pair of startled Japanese walkers. Half an hour later, Ed did the same thing. Scripts were hastily re-examined. Maybe a biking remake of Bridge over the River Kwai would work better?

The hotel in Portage that evening was most pleasant, although the decision to theme breakfast was a little odd. Spanish flamenco, castanettes and guitar were played so hideously loud that the stunned diners would not have been surprised if the waiters had come out from the kitchen with bowls of fruit on their heads singing " I I I I I I I like you very much. "

Today, events took a very strange twist.
Wet, Dirty, and Barbie sped off together up to the top of the first hill. Now everyone knew that filming had not been going particularly well, but we were all a bit surprised when we reached the top to see a semi naked Barbie filming a very seedy low budget version of Emmanuel meets the bike swappers.
A little later in the day, the same two innocent Japanese girls were heavily traumatised all over again in " Bridge over the River Kwai - the sequal " .

And so to lunch by the sea. I would like to re-enact this scene, if I may, from the point of view of Charlotte the duck.
She was leader of a small but vibrant colony of ducks, who lived on the beach just off the main trail. Life was happy and carefree, until one by one, Charlottes subjects became hopelessly addicted to bread. She turned a blind eye to it at first, but it wasn't long before some of the poor things were up to a soft roll a day, and French sticks were being traded openly. Eventually some of them got so desperate that they resorted to brown.
Charlotte was deeply troubled by this, but with the help of the local council she managed to introduce councilling and a crust exchange programme. It was a long struggle, but after two years, the whole colony was clean.
Then we turned up with bags full of uncut sandwiches. Bravely, all the ducks resisted. One of the humans, the one called Keith, broke off a piece of his sandwich and threw it to a spikey feathered pasty faced adolescent duck called (by pure coincidence) Liam.
Liam had never tasted real bread before, but one taste and he was hooked. Senses reeling, and unable to control himself, he rushed at Keith and started pecking wildly at his hand. In an instant, all Charlotte's fine work was undone.
And the moral of the tale is this: Never, ever throw bread to the offspring. All that will happen is that they'll come back and bite the had that feeds them.

That night was spent in a hotel in Nelson run by two delightful mad old bats.
Dinner was eaten at a steak house in town. Let us not forget that there were only two girls in the crew, and we had now been away for a week. So when the most stunning waitress in the southern hemisphere turned up to take the order, it was obvious that there was going to be trouble.
In fact, it was truly pathetic. The majority of the table were like salivating dogs on heat, but to her credit, she played the all beautifully.
It's at this point that Keith almost, but not quite, got the quote of the trip award. He could have his cheesecake, she told him, dressed with brandy snaps, ice cream, and sauce, or just plain. By this point in the meal, Keith would willingly have licked the stuff of the bottom of her shoe, but he managed to hold it together long enough to stare her straight in the chest and whimper " I'd like it undressed please, and drizzled all over with cream. "

Later in the evening, something flew into Alex's ear. Exactly what it was has never been properly established, mainly due to the fact that everyone was pissed. It is fair to say though, that whatever it was most certainly met a horrible end as it was blinded, stabbed, suffocated and drowned.
In fact, I can reveal that the creature was a moth, and a very special one that allowed Alex to read people's thoughts. So, all of you who have been thinking " if you didn't smoke so much you might get up the hills a bit faster you dozy Geordie git " now know why he stopped speaking to you.

Next morning witnessed another genuine moment. The two ladies served up the best breakfast of the whole trip, smoked salmon and scrambled eggs, so cheers to them.
The group then had a couple of hours to shop, during which time Rotherham Sue managed to completely revitalise the local economy and push the stock market up 10 points, the biggest single rise ever seen in two hours.

The whole crew then flew south to Queenstown, and had a day off the following day to sample delights such as bungee jumping, the Shotover river jet, the luge, whitewater rafting, and the most ingenious, bizarre, crazy golf anywhere in the world.
Harry and Sue, and Wet and Dirty, had wisely decided that enough was enough of the ecotyrists and went off to eat on their own.
We all went to the Thai restaurant. Two words can describe the evening as far as the other diners were concerned. Loud, and obnoxious.
Steve D was on fine form. With the expertise of the finest angler he reeled Arthur in slowly, slowly, until every sentence contained 3 fucks, 2 bastards, and 4 bollocks. And until I just told you all now, he didn't even know.
Shaun meanwhile, started a delightful conversation about masturbation, although using different terminology. Judging by the looks on their faces, the middle-aged couple at the next table were wither completely appalled, or they learned something completely new.

And so onward, to the next day and heli-biking.
Was it good? Well, we got to throw snawballs at Ed, Barbie fell off, and I head planted in a snowdrift; so yep. It was good.
Was it worth £100? - ?

After lunch we took the firetrack up towards the gondola, then turned off up a singletrack theough the woods. Oh joy of joys. More pushing.
Cleverly though, the film crew realised that if they cut this with footage of the Japanese at breakfast, and changed Barbie's name to Gladys Aylwood, they could produce a clever remake of Inn of the Sixth Happiness. All they had to do was get Barbie to say the lines " hurry children, up the hill, for the Japanese are coming. "
On a positive note, the singletrack down was damn good, although too difficult for Edwin who, surprisingly, crashed into the trees. Big wuss. and the pack descends...

Day 10 of our time in this fabulous land brings us to the undisputed quote of the trip.
Once again, this prestigious award goes to Arthur Watt. The scene is breakfast at the Hotel Aspen, and I quote: " Bloody Japanese, they're everywhere. There's bloody millions of them, swarming like locusts - and not one of them came higher than my shoulder. "
Libertee, Egalitee, Fraternitee, eh Arthur?
Meanwhile, a desperate Alex had phoned his wife. " Please love, talk dirty to me! " he cried. " Right then, " she said, " Fuck off! "

Now after this point, there's not a lot left to be said about the making of the film.
The riding continued to be fabulous, the hyena pack continued to be viscious, and if you've got any sense you'll have made sure you've written down your own precious moments. If you haven't, well you've got 26 hours on a plane to do so. It's well worth the effort I promise you.

So when can you expect to see the finished film?
Well, there are some major problems to overcome.
Because of the wanton repeated traumatising of two of its citizens, Japan has declared war on New Zealand. New Zealand itself has erupted into civil war, brough about by the chronic bread shortages and subsequent toast riots. Further, after a tip off by honey producing christadelphians police raided a hotel room at the Christchurch Holiday Inn. Here they dicovered Keith Dawson in a degrading act of felching with the famous revered Guinea Pig of Christ. Furious at this obscene act, New Zealand has pulled out of the Commonwealth and sent a gun boat to Edinburgh.
In one respect, however, the whole experience was highly successful. Harry and Sue were so impressed with the calm and sanity of Ken, that on their return home they organised a popular uprising, and Ken has susequently become the 43rd President of the United States. Within 6 months the Middle-East conflict was solved and terrorism became a thing of the past.
Now wouldn't it be great if life were really that simple?

© Andy Tidy, 2004