Thursday Night Report 11th December 2003                                    

Beer- swilling, footpath-violating hooligans!

 

 

Crew :     Pete “lets stay in the Hanging Gate” Austin,    Andy “onward to the Crag” Thornton ,  John “impending fatherhood, again” Croxford,  Dave “old enough to know better, but young enough to be termed Hooligan” Mawdsley  

Turned up later… :

·        Nobody !

Route

·        Barracks Lane –Black rd ––Langley- Ridgway –Hanging Gate – Into Wildboarclough via Plague Stone Rd – The Crag Inn – Up Shutlingsloe from the rear – Fast descent to Ranger Centre – The Leathers Smithy- The Puss In Boots – Home ! 

Refreshments

·        Loads of good beers in all pubs but the Puss In Boots & posh food (Mallard and Pheasant!!) in the Leathers.  

Weather :

·      Close too freezing but fairly dry and not much off road anyway

Items of interest

·         Twas interesting to note that young Croxford turned up on the flash Blurr this week (and not the “winter-bike” Marin). Some sceptics think that there may have been a link with the promised join-up with “Pete’s real mates”. Alas, such effort was all in vain – this week was, again, a “Pete’s real mates no show”.

·         John also displayed his true “all-caring-father-to-be” colours with regular calls home to check on the well being of his good lady, and a prudent duck-out from the last pint in the Puss-in-Boots.

·         Dave Mawdsley’s true “footpath-violating hooligan” status was confirmed by a chance conversation with a grey-haired local in the Hanging Gate. On hearing our route was to take in Shutlinsloe, our new acquaintance chastised “young” Mawds for his wilful lack of respect for such a sacred, footpath only area.

·         The barmaid in the Handing Gate was fair competition for Coley in the “rear of the year” award

·         Though no “posh bikers”(i.e. those who swill beer, then quaff wine when dining) could be found in the Leathers, we tried valiantly to raise the standards of post ride dining by ordering Mallard and Pheasant.

·         We were treated to a glimpse of a yuletide shooting star as we (illegally?) ascended the east face of Shutlinsloe. Was this a divine signal to lead the 3 weary magi and their ass to worship at the Leather Smithy? (nominations for the donkey on a postcard please).

·         Mawdsley's equipment ran out of juice