There were a few muppets riding their motorbikes through Glasgow on Sunday.

I mean of course characters from the great American puppet show franchise and not merely erratic riders. There were a couple of Kermits and quite a few Animals, the furious Muppet drummer. Cleverly the Muppet heads had a gaping mouth through which the helmet visors could be seen, allowing costumed bikers a clear view of the road ahead.

There were also some superheroes, a Tigger, and many flop-eared Easter bunnies. Some were dressed as police motorcyclists, although, come to think of it, they might have been the real thing.

This was of course the annual Easter fundraising ride for the Sick Kids Hospital at Yorkhill when over a thousand bikers make sure Glasgow's city centre does not have a lie-in on Easter Sunday by parading in a throaty mechanical growl in a winding route from the SECC to the car park at Yorkhill raising funds for the children's hospital. When the annual event began years ago there were only a few bikers who were delivering Easter eggs to the kids. Now NHS dieticians frown upon the sick children gorging on a ton of chocolate, and money is preferred instead.

Naturally you can't bring a thousand bikers together and have them agree on everything. Some felt the ride was a bit chaotic this year with the phalanx of bikers being split up into smaller groups too often on the ride. This was put down to not enough police on duty en route as too many of them were required for crowd control duties across the river at Ibrox for the Rangers Hearts game. That's bikers for you. A few like to blame the police for something .

It was though a magnificent blood-stirring sight, allowing watching children to squeal at the colourful parade and allow watching fathers to dream about a more carefree life. There were racing bikes with riders in advertisement-laden racing leathers. Huge gleaming primary-coloured bikes that you could imagine whisking you across Europe without a moment's hesitation. Giant Harley Davidsons, that iconic American bike, replete with shiny chrome. Does anyone ever ride a dirty Harley Davidson? Do you have to sign an agreement when you buy it to keep it immaculate?

There were tiny bikes too, looking like a circus act. A smattering of three-wheelers for those who wanted a more sedate journey. And even a couple of scooters that sneaked in, with riders in the compulsory parkas.

The riders themselves were just as varied. Lean teenagers probably straining at such a sedate pace. Middle-aged men having, not so much a mid-life crisis as a mid-life indulgence, on bikes the price of a family car. More born to be mild than born to be wild. And grizzled, bearded oldsters in worn biker jackets whose seen-it-all eyes told of a wildness in their lives lurking below the surface.

Now you might be wondering why they are even raising money for the Royal Hospital for Sick Children, to give the full name that is rarely used as people prefer the geographical description Yorkhill, or the abbreviated Sick Kids. Doesn't the NHS pay for everything? Well, up to a point. As Douglas Samson at the Yorkhill Children's Charity explains: "We complement what they do. Yes, the NHS provides all the equipment that is needed, but medical advances happen so quickly and parents want the best in the world for their children so we can fund enhanced models of equipment." And, says Douglas, support for families is just as important. "People's lives go on hold when their children are in hospital and we want to help," he says.

This though was the last bike ride to Yorkhill. This summer the whole facility moves to a new hospital at the Southern General site. A stand-alone children's hospital attached to that giant South Glasgow Hospital now dominating the Govan skyline. They will be connected by a bridge already dubbed "The umbilical cord".

Yorkhill Children's Charity - they're not thinking of a name change yet despite the move - will be providing pull-down beds for parents in every room so that anxious parents can stay with their little ones as long as they want. It's a low-tech provision which will give anxious sleep-deprived parents some respite. There will even be a therapist from the charity giving mums a massage as a simple enjoyable break from bedside vigils.

Play equipment will be bought, research projects funded, a roof garden laid out for play and relaxation, and the very latest equipment added. There are now 18 paid members of stuff and an army of volunteers involved in operating the charity which has seen it grow from raising £319,000 in its first year 14 years ago to over £4m. last year, through company donations, dinners, charity runs and walks, and yes the bikers' Easter run which will bring in over £20,000 as well as giving patients who watched from windows or came down to sit on the bikes, a memorable day .

My own earliest memory is of being in the Yorkhill hospital at only the age of three for a life-saving operation. Actually the memory is not of the operation itself - I was presumably unconscious for that - but toddling to the bottom of the bed in the Nightingale ward to have my pick of sweets from the auxiliary nurse. In those days parents deposited sweets at the nurses station to that they were distributed to everyone irrespective of who had a visitor. My first taste of socialism I guess.

So while I was chomping on sweets I'd hate to imagine what my parents were going through seeing a child so young whisked away from home in an ambulance. It's such children and parents today who are having some of their anguish reduced by the Yorkhill charity. Helping them has to be worth a donation - even if your Sunday lie-on was so noisily interrupted.