Munch Bunch MCC

Get a life rally. 




    Although this rally is held at Much Marcle, only 50 miles away from my home I decided to take the scenic route via Cornwall.  All plans had been made for an 8am start and my alarm clock set for 7 am. I awoke and looked at the clock - 8-10 it said , PANIC. I was supposed to meet up with Kev and family at 8. A quick look at the alarm clock revealed that I had set it for 7 pm instead of 7am. Seeing as Kev knew the route I decided that I might as well set off and hopefully catch him up somewhere on route.

    The Dog Kennel was hitched up to the trike and I set off down the M5. The sun was out, the normal blind moronic motorists seemed to be on holiday and the trike was running well. I left the motorway at junction 27 and waited in the first lay-by. If Kev was behind me he would find me easily enough. I had just lit my pipe when a black BMW outfit pulled up behind, Kev and company had found me. It seems they stopped for petrol at Sedgemoor services when I rattled past. We carried on along the A361 enjoying the sunshine and generally taking in the scenery when along came Mr Wasp. Now Mr Wasp enjoys flying along and usually takes no notice of bikes, trikes etc. So, when Mr, (Mrs, Miss or Ms, we're not sexist) Wasp finds himself inside my shirt he does what wasps do best, STING. Mr Wasp was having so much fun that he stung me four times in the armpit and once for good luck as he exited via the back of my neck. I pulled off the road and did the dance of the trapped wasp - much to the amusement of Kev, Lil and the kids. After a few more wasp free miles we arrived at Perranporth, set up camp and generally did what folks by the seaside do.


      The next day, Roy, another club member arrived with his son Lee. We had a few days by the sea and prepared to head for the Munch Bunch's

rally on Thursday. By the time we were ready to roll on Thursday the rain had also decided to come with us. 224 miles of solid rain. 8 hours of nice wet rain. The dye in Roy's gloves and coat had run. He had jet black hands and cute little black patches everywhere else. We set up a somewhat damp camp.

      Thursday night in the pub was a quiet affair with just us and a handful of the Munch Bunch who had come to set things up. By Friday the weather was better, the marquee had been set up, the toilets arrived and the grub wagon was open. The rest is history as they say. The rally went really well. The beer prices in the pub were extortionate but fortunately the Munch Bunch had a supply of cans at very reasonable prices and they didn't have to shut at 11 pm.


      Saturday dawned nice and bright so we trotted off to Monmouth for a nose round. We dodged the showers on the way back and prepared for Saturday nights fun and frolics. The band were good, the disco was far too loud for old gits like myself but what the hell. I managed to win Best Trike award, a Silver Goose Egg Cup and a bottle of wine. Stump won Best Bike with his 'R' reg Evo engined Harley, and long distance went to some long suffering Dutchman.

The rest of Saturday night dissolved into Sunday morning and the dreaded Hangover Monster attacked people in the night.


    Seeing as this rally was held on Bank Holiday weekend I expected Sunday night to be similar to Saturday so I was surprised to see so many folks packing up and leaving. By mid afternoon the field was almost empty. The caterers had gone, the toilets were being locked up and generators moved.

It's a pity, when the Munch Bunch have a Bank Holiday weekend that more folks don’t chose to stay.Still, I can't criticise because I left at about 3 o’clock. A pleasant run up over the Malvern Hills and back home. 714 miles, 224 of them in bloody awful weather and a nice collection of wasp stings. Yes, we enjoyed the Munch Bunch's 'Get a Life Rally' and roll on next year.






Lone Wolf.