Every spring, when the daffodils poke their heads out and the Easter Bunny is still doing warm up stretches, something magical happens in Cambridge: the annual Cambridge Bikers Easter Egg Run, supporting Addenbrookes children’s wards and the Red Hen Project. And this year, the city saw a colourful, chrome filled spectacle as around 300 riders from across Cambridgeshire thundered into action with engines roaring, spirits high, and panniers stuffed with chocolate eggs and toys.
But 2026 marked a special milestone for one group in particular: the Cantabrigia Widows Sons Chapter, who joined the run for their inaugural ride out. What a debut it was. Let’s just say we made an entrance… though perhaps not always the kind we intended.
A Smooth Start… Nearly. As we lined up on Bateman Street, anticipation was high, and the sense of brotherhood even higher. Engines were purring. Helmets were on. The sun was shining. It was a perfect moment. Which is exactly when Secretary Jay Waite stalled his bike. Right there. At the front. Blocking everything.
His machine, clearly sensing the importance of the occasion, decided it was the perfect moment for a nap. Cue the confused chorus of revving, shouting, and sympathetic laughter from the brethren behind him. To Jay’s credit, he recovered with grace and only moderate embarrassment. A fine start to the chapter’s first official outing.
Next came Treasurer Simon Shekyls’s legendary Triumph, a machine held together through sheer optimism and whatever bolts the British motorcycling industry had left in the 70s. As we rolled through Cambridge city centre, his bike let out a heroic backfire loud enough to rattle nearby windows, scare pigeons into new postal codes, and send two passing elderly ladies into synchronized jumps that would’ve impressed the Royal Ballet. One reportedly declared, “Well I never!” The other, “I thought the war ended in 1945!” Simon, naturally, smiled proudly. The Triumph, meanwhile, carried on cackling like the world’s oldest firework.
President Martin Culverhouse – a man of calm authority perched atop a Honda Gold Wing large enough to qualify as a listed building, encountered yet another of Cambridge’s famously questionable road surfaces. He hit a pothole so deep, so wide, so cavernous, that his Gold Wing practically needed its own rescue helicopter. For a moment, we feared we’d lost him to the underworld. Thankfully, Martin emerged victorious, Gold Wing intact, dignity slightly less so. The pothole, for its part, is expected to recover by autumn.
Vice Presedent Mike Garcia, was bravely battling one of the most fearsome ailments known to mankind: man flu. Despite being moments from drafting my will (and requesting a Viking funeral), I soldiered on, wrapped metaphorically in a giant pair of big girls’ knickers and a literal box of tissues. If medals were awarded for Dramatic Sniffling Under Adversity, I’d have swept the podium.
Despite the comedic chaos, the mission was a resounding success. Eggs, toys, and mountains of goodwill were delivered to the children’s wards at Addenbrookes, as well as the families supported by the Red Hen Project. The smiles we helped spark, and the joy we carried with us, were worth every stall, backfire, pothole, and over dramatic sneeze.
This is what the Easter Egg Run is all about: bikers of all stripes coming together to make a difference, sharing laughter, camaraderie, and just the right amount of chaos along the way.
