A Miggly Moo uplifting experience in the Forest of Dean
Following a successful summer trip to Symonds Yat, it was decided to do it all again in the shape of a mini break half way through November. In total we had 16 riders who were all up for a weekend of fun.
So, the weekend was booked. There were the hard-core few who were attending both Friday and Saturday night and those who just fancied the Saturday.
As always, leading from the front when a p*ss up is on the cards Big Mike, Jock, Newbs were keen to get going and were all on the beer by 6pm Friday. Tagging along and completing an integral part of their Miggly Moo apprenticeship were BJ Lewis, and young Julian. (Lovely boy).
After an hour or 2 and a few pints into the evening, in walks Kev the plane like the Lone Ranger... (with new feet). After swiftly declining to join the round with Big Mike (wise decision), the Friday night night group was formed.
After a bite to eat and a few more beers, the landlord took us out to a very posh pub for a change of scenery. After listening to at least 5 warnings from him about not using the "C" word, we were mingling with the Hooray Henrys and looked quite at home. I'm sure I witnessed Jock Greenhalf and Crockett drinking Pimms and using the word "spiffing" as the night went on.
Back to the hotel and after a few dozen beers more, we were joined by a romantic couple from London. The girl was quite pretty and had a lovely set of fish net stockings on which gave a splendid distraction to a 23 stone lad sitting on the bar with his trousers half way down attempting to have a sh*t. (no names mentioned and we still don't know what it was all about).
Saturday was a hazy affair for the lads who did the Friday night. So hazy it took us 50 minutes to get from Symonds Yat to the trail centre which was about 4 mile away as the crow flies. The herd were all waiting and once funds had been collected we were off for our downhill adventures. (By this stage Chris Carless was on his 13th can of Strongbow).
A few runs down and the lads were in the swing of it. A couple of close shaves and then Kev the plane took a tumble. A little graze to his knee and a sore wrist were just about the worst injuries of the day as it would happen although later on Shagnasty, did end up with Asian flu.
Option was off his normal riding pace, which was probably something to do with the fact that he'd been playing 5 a side football for the new Wonka factory in Tonypandy recently rather than riding. Rather than except that this was the reason for his new found lack of pace, he persisted to blame the bike rather than himself throughout the day. (standard procedure)
OBE was the first to retire from the riding and instead decided to drink coffee, eat cakes and make rollies for the last 2 hrs of the day. Big Mike was next, but in his defence he had such a bad bout of flatulence it was deemed unsafe for any riders to follow into his anal gas cloud and he was asked by track officials to either have a sh*t or leave the track. Rumour has it that he farted at the top of the sheep skull run and this caused Kev the plane to faint and fall off.
Following a hard but successful day on 2 wheels, we headed back to the hotel and were quite happy to sink a few beers before showering. As always, this turned into half a dozen before a shower, but this time Johnsy wasn't there to influence a full night in moo riding gear like last time.
Another bite to eat and the night was upon us. Live music had started to the delight of Jock Greenhalf, as he was the only Black Sabbath/ Motorhead fan in the pub. Music that seemed slightly unfitting based on the fact that the hotel had about 35 pensioners knocking about for a birthday party that had been organised.
The night was coming alive when a few of the lads decided to pop over to the Saracens Head pub for a few beers across the river. The lads that stayed behind had a few black Sambuca liveners which certainly kick started everyone. One of the notable Sambuca shot csualties was Reg the Ledge Pitman. Reg within minutes turned into a man possessed and jumped on big Mikes back and started riding him around the pub like a Bucking Bronco!! Priceless!
The breakaway pack that had been in the pub over river had now returned. BJ Lewis had a smile from ear to ear and resembled Mr Strong from the childrens Mr. Men cartoon. It turns out he'd been up to no good and had acquired a photo from the other pubs toilet wall which he'd smuggled out under his T shirt. Apparently it was a picture that reminded him of home which he just had to have.
Sambuca had started creating some loose lips as Captain Chris Carless let loose that Peggy Mitchell was a fantasy of his whilst little Jules and Kev the Plane sloped off a bit early. Johnny Pitman's neck injury seemed to miraculously clear up with the help of Sambuca and lager as he moon walked around Big Mike whilst his brother was riding on Mikes back.
It was at this stage that Feather reappeared after going home to pick up his dog! In a pub full of pensioners and pissed up Pitman's everywhere, a savage Alsatian was a great cocktail to top off the night. This is the same dog that nearly bit off Dodes left hand a little later as he stumbled for the bathroom at 4.30am for a pee.
There were a few hard-core members left at the bar at 3.30am when James Shagnasty said he was hungry and decided to tuck into a Chinese! Judging by the way he looked in the morning, I think that late night foreign feast was all coming back to haunt him.
All in all a great laugh and a good weekend of riding, drinking and fun