Mogstock

For a first time event - I thought everything went so smooooooth! We were all sent the joining instructions and no one got lost. The weather was good on Saturday, but a fine drizzle spoilt that Sunday feeling and we were all feeling quite sorry for the folks that had had to find alternative travelling arrangements. This was due to slight functioning faults on their 404s and 1300 respectively (an understatement). Jim took us for a turn around the course and weren’t that spectacular? Yeh man - it f***ing were!!! I am the proud owner of some wondrous bruises (or did I get a secret thump from Gareth) As we hit a bumpette at some speed we both shot out of our bucket seats and thanks to Jim catching me, I didn’t fly off into the red mud. Now that would have been a sight - me, coated in red mud, slowly rising from the swamp. Most of the drivers wanted to check out how their machines took the hummocks and the muddy hillocks that surrounded them and most were satisfied with their Unimog's / truck’s performance. But a few were not and needed added interest and adventure!!! All I can say is ‘check out the photos’ (still doesn’t look possible)

Took oodles of noodles and other tucker with us, but Dave and Big Mark persuaded us to partake of a Northern sized pub dinner at the Windmill. Even Dave had to admit ‘it’s Jaws on a plate’ when my haddock and chips came lumbering out. It didn’t need a plate, it was big enough to walk to the table. Shame your steak looked little in comparison Dave!! I was well and truly ‘stuffed’ and I can eat a fair sized portion usually. Gareth also had a delicacy from the deep in the way of a Marlin steak. Methinks he enjoyed it, but not more than the waitress enjoyed our leaving. Dave, you did ask some difficult questions!!!! But in fairness, the waitress answered most of them and they were quite (onion) saucy. We were a fair sized party by the time we had finished the meal as most of the others had

found us in the pub.

In the evening back at the farm, a fire was lit, camp-fire games were played, fire balls were flung, speeches were called for, and a never ending battle between two of the blokes in the nature of a scale of pain, concentrating on the male genitalia. Nine out of ten was reached and this was in the manner of: ‘a pair of goolies spread over a station platform, overhanging so that the train as it passed, would grind them off’ I was desperate to join in, but they might have thought me a sadistic bitch. All this time, Derek quietly got on with a mammoth barbecue with his friendly labrador to help!!! I’m not into sausages and the like, being a non meat eater, but I’m positive everyone enjoyed the food. After all this and the pub dinner, quite a few managed to handle a baked spud or two or three. Now, they did look inviting, but after five hours, I was still too full from the pub dinner to have even a nibble - sorry, I mean a morsel.

I am quite used to being the only female partaker of a weekend away with the military vehicles - and ‘quite’ often avert my eyes when a naked, hairy- arsed bloke backs out of his wet tent on a dewy, grassy field of a morning. But, this weekend was different - lo and behold - more female bodies to share this wonderful experience with and it was an experience. Friendly mates (and this is what if felt like) to chat over the difficulties and pleasures we have with our machines, be they green, white or orange (italian flag eh?) 404’s or 1300, ambulance body, winch or crane - all

Some of us left a little bit of our machines behind - a list might appear later, Me, I lost me bracelet and I think I left my heart behind ‘oop there’ in Manchester.

S M A S H I N G . . . . . . .S M A S H I N G . . . . . . S M A S H I N G . . . . . . . .S M A S H I N G . . . . .

When is the next one???????