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Vice Cap Rice's Report

3rd September 2011


It was 3pm on a Friday afternoon when the start of the Miggly Moo 2011 summer trip began. 9 riders met at the Fwrrwm car park and headed up toward the Forest of Dean in about 10 cars ! Yes 10 cars. I'm sure there must have been someone towing one there were so many!

Lydbrook was our destination for the Friday ride and night, which took around 40 minutes. We took so many cars that it actually took longer to park the b*ggers than to get there! For those who haven't been to Lydbrook, you haven't missed a lot really. The village is a small run down sort of place with one road in and nine roads out !When we arrived, we doubled the amount of cars that were already parked in the village.

After parking up, Ex-Capt Peal followed his carefully planned route that he had tirelessly planned out the previous day whilst being on the sick from work. Within 5 minutes Tom had shoved Pealys plans up his arse and took us on a mystery tour. Ex-capt Peal looked more than rejected, but then again that could be something to do with his recent brain tumour that Option had labelled him with.

We did a handful of great down hills at speed over by the Pedal Away trail centre with no real casualties. The 2hr mark had arrived and alcoholic Option was starting to look like he needed a fix.

We found a nice little pub where we sat and had 4 pints in the Sun before we headed back to the town where they filmed "The Deliverance". Sh*t shower and a shave and we were out for the night. Beers and food at pace the mini herd were in great spirits within a few hrs. It was at this stage an Irish granny with hardly any teeth appeared out of the crowded bar of weirdos. (Crowded bar being 3 inbred incestuous worzels). She swore like a drain and made the mistake of thinking we were a nice group of Welsh lads. She started to tell us about her husband and the fact that she has a brook in her forest garden that has now dried up. She did say that from time to time it flood and blocks, which her husband then has the thankless job of unblocking. You can imagine the sexual connotations that were coming out!! As she went to bed someone shouted "Good night luv, I hope your brook stays dry for your husbands sake!!" Hilarious!!!!

Bed at 3am after a great laugh, a sing song and watching Tom slap Johnsy a dozen times as hard as he could on the top of his head as he kept falling asleep.

Next day over to Symonds Yat. The full herd were waiting with anxiety to get on with the ride. Intros were made and we were then off riding with our 2 guides - "Bumper and Bob". We headed towards the trail centre which we had been the day before. A great downhill which led back to the trail centre cafe was our first blast which seemed to go down a treat.

A quick stop, then onward with the ride. With a few mini downhills built in, the majority of the next stage consisted of a fair amount of cross country. No casualties again, we eventually found ourselves at a pub that conveniently had a BBQ organised outside in the beer garden. 3-4 pints and a bit of food, we were off again heading in the direction of Symonds Yat. We were promised a few reasonable downhills on the return and to be fair they did eventually come. It was at this stage Thomas "Le flying Frog" Cherblanc knocked himself out on a jump. This delayed our next pint, which was somewhat inconvenient, but to be fair to Thomas he'd done a good job on himself. It was at this stage that a woman came past us on a horse with very big bouncing boobies. The herd were unusually quiet until Crockett shouted "Oi luv! You should have bought a sports bra!!" Hilarious!!

We had around 5-6 mile to travel back to Symonds Yat, which sounds straight forward, but truthfully this is where it all went slightly smelly. Our 2 bike guides who couldn't organise a piss up in a brewery got everyone lost and all you could hear were lost Moos in a forestry shouting for help!

Eventually we were back in Symonds Yat and were happy to nurse a few beers at the Saracens Head. Then back to the Bunkhouse, shower, sh*t, shave then out for the night.

The pub seemed like a great location for the thirsty pack, as it was literally below the bunkhouse we were staying at. Once the herd had grazed with a great menu, the drinking pace was up to full steam . Johnsy in particular was in a terrible knot within a few hrs but was superb entertainment! Tom was up to full coarse volume and could be heard from the Saracens Head pub half a mile away whilst Cletus broke into stories again about his new chick and his 8" Knob. A few hrs later we decided to try the next pub up the road, which was probably a bad decision considering it was around 12pm! Eventually we got a pint out of the extremely grumpy landlord who had just thrown out Bread Arms for walking in with a pint from the previous pub. The rest is a little hazy, but I have a vague memory of a plastic c*ck that looked like a banana, Dafydds bum, Captain Chris Carless pulling himself a pint behind the bar, the now smelly ended plastic banana cock being thrown at the landlord and us all being thrown out.

Back to the room and the place was in turmoil. Those who were there will understand me when I say that if I was to post the full details of what went on between the lads in this report, then I think we would get sectioned. Johnsy again was out of control running about naked with a semi. A tin of Mackerel was opened and thrown about, big Mikes snoring which resembled the horn blowing on the Titanic and Vice cap Newbs trying to stop someone killing Cletus. (Trust me when I say that's the slimmed down version)

Morning saw many casualties. A few had to head home and miss the day of canoing. The remaining herd of 18 sat in the sun and sunbathed their hangovers away whilst the canoes were made ready for us.

We headed up river, canoes were launched. Feather had taken his own canoe and was dressed like the bloke from the milk tray advert.

Everyone got to grips with the paddling and we were off down stream. The sun came out and the world seemed like a great place again!

40 minutes later we were at the Pub in lower Lydbrook. A few beers and a bit of food for everyone and then we were back in the water. There were plenty of shenanigans on this later stage between the herd. Water fights caused canoes to capsize and another water fight incident almost caused one of the groups canoes to hit a builder off a ladder who was repairing a wall!! (The foot of his ladder was in the river)

Back to Symonds Yat, Daf fell in the river for the 2nd time today. Canoes were extracted from the water and the herd were then reduced to 10.

A few pints in the Old Ferry inn and then a walk down river . The night ended with another great meal and a stack of beer and laughs (Mainly at Crocketts stories). The landlord and his girlfriend nearly p*ssed themselves (literally).

Time for bed. No shenanigans tonight... thank God!

A superb laugh had by all.

Happy days!


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