MAG(UK) Website The Black Country Motorcycle Action Group

Black Country MAG


Where To Find Us
Members Bikes
Rally Reports
Strategy For PTW's
Road Hazards
Contact Info
Useful Links
About this website

Last Updated:

You are visitor:

since 04.04.2000

Coventry MAG's 3rd Totally Blitzed Rally

3rd-5th September 2004

Words by Adam and Dave. Photos by Adam

In the year of our LUD 2004 a hairy bunch of noble bikers set out on a quest to purify a rugby club. As the sunshine christened the land, so did we as the cheap, cheap beers that they strew upon us as gifts for the thirsty traveller that covered the vast distance of time and space to get there,(40 miles) passed through us.

Putting the tents up was as much fun as you can have whilst having your otter spanked. Kev, Adam and Jack did not help with this project, no matter how many stones we threw at them. Ignoring them we moved onto the stalls. There was just enough stalls to keep us in small treats for a rally of its size. We then relaxed for another treat, (damn good laugh) as the burger van did a 160 point manoeuvre to get into position.

The brown fizzy motion producer,(the beer) turned out not too badly priced and it had more flavour than the average rally bar. Friday night sported a fine band, disco and a good time was had by all. The usual insanity rained down throughout the evening, Dave got pissed and let the side down and also my trousers whilst taking a photograph in front of the band, which gave him a titter. The burger van stayed open late which was great as me and jumbo were famished.

The breakfast in the club house was excellent value for money and there was tonnes of it. I ate that much of it they had to come and rescue me in a wheelbarrow. The weather was fantastic so we went for a ride out to Warwick and I had a 105mph out of the Virago. We would have had a nice time at a pub we stopped at but Coventry MAG forgot to tell us the beer was rubbish, cheers you guys.

After racing back to the site via a supermarket 42 one way systems on the A45 we ended up back at the supermarket. It was only a flock of magic ducks that showed us the way home, their poor little feet were blood red why they didn't fly I never know, so we fried them up with some old bulrushes we found in the back of Dave's trousers. (not all the above is true)

On the Saturday night Dave scrubbed up really well in his ripped jeans (that his fat ass bust out of the night before). The party started, the disco started and it was at a reasonable level and played a good range of music. The band started and the fun ended for some as it was a bit loud even for us metal heads. The band either sang new songs which nobody knew or old songs that they didn't know themselves - it was that loud and distorted we couldn't tell. Most of our group stayed inside but some of us went out and played "lets see how far you can lob the glowing stick".

The raffle brought on some mystical good fortune for our table, only to be rivalled by the crock of gold at the end of the rainbow. Jan (the one that never seems to clean her bike - a two wheeled quagmire) some how managed to win a rather substantial and hefty all you can eat cleaning kit and also a bottle of scotch but as she don't drink, it got sent to a good home.The spooky thing is just as Jan collected her first prize, she managed to pick her own ticket out and win two in a row - neither of which she has any use for! Our table was also to grab another two prizes. It's alleged some Cov MAG members did fix the raffle in our favour, so I don't mind offering some kind of payment in return because Adam said he'll hold them down.

Once the disco started back up the dance floor filled to the pulsating masses of over indulged sweaty bikers - some of it to the tune of dancing queen by abba. We hang our heads in shame but we were that drunk our heads had developed their own orbit. Dave appeared to de-materialise, then re-materialise before our very eyes. This was down to the fact that he was in a struggle with beer, gravity and abba but luckily the smoke machine made it look does he do it!

Sunday morning... ouch Sunday morning. It was time to pack up and we were having trouble breathing in and out. We made packing up a rapid affair, it only took us four hours, 500 brand new swear words and a smacked arse.

All in all another quality rally by Cov MAG - thanks for a lot of fun.