We won't talk about this one, it wasn't even a real Dragon.
Sunshine, dry, warm.
Never again.
The finest, most exclusive gathering of gentlemen motorcyclists. Sponsored by Deuchars, fuelled by stupidity.
We won't talk about this one, it wasn't even a real Dragon.
Sunshine, dry, warm.
Never again.
Friday, lovely. GM and Obo Scribe pottered down in the dry and mild to Betsy, for a night's R&R at the Glan Aber Bunkhouse.
Joined later by Vera, The Mad Wrasse ( henceforth to be known as Mr Brulee) and The Public Relations Secretary, beer was tested for efficacy and flavour, food consumed and snoring undertaken overnight.
Saturday burst into life with a fry up, and then off to the Control at Conwy so we could then turn round and make to the site, the scene of a number of cataclysmic outbreaks of Trenchfoot over the years.
2022, the 60th Conwy & District MCC Dragon Rally, lived up to expectation.
Many arrived, took one look at the camping lake, collected their badges, and buggered off.
Some arrived, took one look at the camping lake, and set up their tents Then they collected their badges, collected their tents, and buggered off. Mr Brulee, the hat fits, wear it.
Some arrived, took one look at the camping lake, and set up their tents Then they collected their badges, and for some unfathomable reason, stayed.
The rain actually stopped at some point in the evening, but it made no odds. Mainly because it started again about 06:00 and settled in for the day.
Obo Scribe had a temporary heart attack when Igor refused point-blank to start. Liberal dosing with GT85 over the electrics resolved that issue, much to his relief.
And then it rained some more....
Masons Arms, Norham.
Unable to resist the urge to bimble about any longer, your intrepid wandering buffoons found themselves at the Buccleuch Arms at Moffat for a night. Highly recommended for motorcyclists in particular and run by an eccentric South African, it is a great place to stop.
The weather forecast for Saturday was a little optimistic in that the promised mist and fog turned out to have congealed into fairly relentless rain until we got about 10 miles from our destination in Berwick, but Sunday's ride down the lanes back home was a hoot from start to end.