Eventually this will be a properly curated Simmer Dim Rally Report, but as I had a new toy to play with, I’m going to do the initial version of the medium of video – definitely not professional in any way shape or form !

About 18 of OGRI MCC decided to take a little road trip, a minimum round trip of around 1200 dry miles, to go and visit our friends in Shetland for the Simmer Dim Rally 2026.

Some came from Germany, some rode up from the West Country, some decided that they’d go to the Welsh Coast 50th Anniversary Rally and then head to Scotland….via Ireland !

A warm welcome was waiting when we finally got to Shetland (along side a mahoosive breakfast and many, many brews), the bar got hammered, we did some exploring, we behaved ourselves (mostly), the weather behaved itself, local community was lovely, the organisers are as mad as a box of frogs, the bands were excellent and Jaffa cake gin tastes like sh*t !

Oh and the real-life test for our new OGRI softshell jacket went well!

I’d highly recommend checking out Aimée Sutherland Photography’s website as she has a full photo album for the Simmer Dim Rally 2026 where I think she captured all the bits of the rally we didn’t manage to capture.

Part One – OGRI MCC head to the Lake District

Part Two : The Lakes to Dundee

Part Three : To the Ferry !

Part Four : From the Ferry to Ollaberry

Part Five : Simmer Dim Rally Shenigans

Part Five (and a bit) : Out and About exploring Shetland

Part Six : The Vikings are coming !

Part Seven : Time to start heading home

Part Eight : Aberdeen to the Lake District

Part Nine: The Last Leg

Soz, still editing ! But it was warm, very warm as we did the last couple of hundred miles home !

Welsh Coast MCC 50th Anniversary Rally Report – “Get Them to the Rally… Whatever Happens”

This wasn’t just a rally. This was a mission and like any proper mission… it started weeks before anyone even packed a bag.
At The Bug in Gorseinon, OGRI MCC kicked things off with what can only be described as psychological warfare.

Random photos of poo. Casual mentions of “flying poo.” No explanation, no buildup – just dropped into conversation like it was completely normal.

The Swansea boys & girls didn’t know whether to laugh, ignore it, or question reality.
The plan? Simple. Break them mentally before we even arrived. Call it mind games… call it nonsense… either way, it worked. “You can’t outrun your demons… so you might as well dress them up.” In this case… dress them up as flying poo and release them into the wild.

Friday – The Journey (aka “Get Him There… At All Costs”):

Friday came, and OGRI MCC rolled in from everywhere – Wales, Cornwall, Wiltshire, Devon, Somerset, London… Like trying to organise a band where nobody’s read the itinerary, but somehow everyone shows up anyway. The ride in though? Unreal.

Some meet and started at Caerphilly Mountain, through the Brecon Beacons – proper roads, stunning views, and a couple of calm, almost respectable stops at Cray Reservoir and Craig y Nos Castle. That calm lasted about five minutes after we hit the rally field. Because then… it was game on. Sun out. Tents up. Beers open. Straight into it. No easing in, no pacing – just full-send energy.
“I am rock and roll, Lord of the ******* underworld.”

Drinks got questionable quickly – Guinness and blackcurrant made an appearance (nobody proud of it, but nobody stopped it), alongside Jack Daniels being poured like it was water.

Music kicked off, and so did we – headbanging, shouting lyrics we barely knew, fully committed to the chaos. Then came the moment.

The Prospect Challenge: somehow—Jewi goes full secret agent. No witnesses. No explanation. But suddenly… an OGRI MCC flag appears on top of the burger van, replacing one of theirs. It stayed there all weekend. Untouched. Unchallenged. A flag job so clean it might as well have been part of the official signage. “Mind the walls!”… or in this case, mind your burger vans.

Saturday – The Aftermath (and Escalation):

Saturday morning hit like a bad decision catching up with you. Eyes half open, bodies questioning life choices—proper “I’m trying to get sober… it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done” territory. Except… nobody actually tried.

Some went for the recovery option – seaside walks, food, pretending to be functioning adults. The rest? Straight back on it from 10am because apparently, suffering is temporary… but bad decisions are forever and right on cue… the mind games peaked.

Because suddenly… the poo returned. Fake poo. Amazon poo. Sling-shot poo. Tactical, well-aimed airborne poo. Weeks of mental build-up… all leading to this moment.

Welsh Coast MCC members, innocently working the bar, suddenly under fire from flying nonsense. To their credit – they carried on like absolute pros. But you could tell… the penny had dropped. This wasn’t random. This was planned stupidity.

Meanwhile, OGRI MCC decided to contribute to site development. Not with anything useful, obviously. Instead a towering masterpiece formed an attempt of the beer can wall…. We failed.

Instead of a solid structure of empty cider and beer cans, stacked with zero engineering skill…. It was poor excuse of low mounted foundation built by drunken neanderthals.

Games, Glory, and Delusion:

The Silly Games kicked off, and naturally, we got involved in some areas: Drinking challenges – expected. / Tug of war – technique optional, shouting mandatory. Anything else happening we were already halfway through it.

Did we win everything? No. Did we act like we absolutely smashed it? Of course. Prizes were collected regardless of actual performance. Confidence counts for a lot.

Saturday Night – The Fade Out:

By Saturday night… the damage showed. Around 10pm, most of OGRI MCC called it – the slow retreat of broken legends. Not so much going to bed as being defeated into it. But not all heroes fell.

Piglet and Wang (aka Brian) carried what was left of the club’s dignity to the awards. And somehow… Club Turnout: Won.

Sunday – Evacuation Mode: Sunday morning wasn’t a send-off – it was an escape plan.

Engines fired early. People vanished in all directions. Some took the scenic route – last bit of calm before reality. Others went flat-out, straight-line speed runs home, chasing sleep like it owed them money. No words. Just throttle.

Final Word: 50 years of Welsh Coast MCC – and they absolutely smashed it. An incredible turnout, proper atmosphere, and a weekend that ticked every box – from perfect rides to complete chaos.

OGRI MCC’s President presented a slate to mark the milestone – respect where it’s fully deserved.

But the real story? The people. The laughs. The completely unnecessary mind games that somehow became the highlight. “You’ve got to live in the moment”… even if that moment involves a Fury Wall, a stolen burger van flag, and airborne poo.

Brilliant weekend. Brilliant chaos. No lessons learned.

Kez

Toffee’s got a new toy ! A quick bit of Insta360 footage

Moon Rally Report – 35 Years of Tidy Chaos

Alright, calm down… this one started like most bad ideas do – early doors, slightly hungover, and convincing ourselves it was all going to be “a nice chilled ride.”

Friday morning, a chunk of OGRI MCC and a few trusted friends (and a couple who probably shouldn’t be trusted at all) met up for breakfast. Proper start – food, caffeine, a bit of planning that immediately got ignored.

From there we cut through the back routes toward Bridgend, rolling into CMC Thunder Road for what can only be described as essential supplies: energy drinks, Welsh cakes… and possibly bread and butter pudding. A breakfast of champions, or at least survivors. There was also a fair bit of standing around staring at the latest motorbikes aka the “shiny shines.” You know the drill, nodding like you’re seriously considering one while knowing full well you’re not because the bank says ‘NO’.

Then we hit the coast Or at least… we tried to.

Because not even five minutes into the ride, one of our supposedly “reliable” Pan Europeans decided it had other plans and started chucking coolant everywhere like it was marking territory.

Cue the most organised thing OGRI did all weekend – a perfectly executed U-turn. Proper synchronized, like we’d practised it. Bike patched up with new parts, bit of roadside engineering, bit of swearing… and we were off again. Nothing quite like riding coastal roads in a pack though. Proper views, steady rhythm, brothers and sisters together, a few extras tagging along for the ride. Righteous, mun.

Friday Night – Settling In (…or Not): Landing at Marconi Holiday Village just outside Penarth, tents went up, beds were sort of made, and within minutes it was straight into it. Warm summer evening, beers flowing, people drifting between groups – exactly how it should be.

Rusty Sprockets MCC had it dialled. Good crowd, good setup, and straight away it felt like one of those weekends where you already know you’re not staying sensible. Bands absolutely smashed it – JunkJaw and Sonic Highway both tearing through sets like they had something to prove. No complaints there. Proper noise, proper atmosphere.

Then OGRI MCC behaviour kicked in. Stickers started appearing – everywhere.

Some in perfectly acceptable places… Some very much not. Depends who you ask, isn’t it.

Laughter all round, catching up with good people, the usual nonsense building nicely into the night. And then… another Prospect Flag Challenge = Completed. No details. No witnesses. No questions. If you know, you know. And if you don’t… probably for the best, like.

Saturday – Damage Control (Briefly): Saturday started slow. Very slow. You know that feeling where even blinking feels loud……….

People crawling out of tents, looking like they’d gone a few rounds with life and lost on points. Proper Twin Town stuff… “What happened last night then?” – no one really sure, nobody too bothered.

 Solution? Ride out for food. Quick blast to Baffle Haus for a double smash burger that sorted most people right out. Grease therapy. Back in the game. On the way back, though… a quick detour for “specialist equipment = Clothes pegs”. Because obviously… that was always going to end well.

Saturday – The Madness Proper: Back on site and it escalated quickly. Good beer, solid laughs, and more faces turning up – including the Welsh Coast MCC crew, which only added fuel to what was already a terrible idea waiting to happen. Then came it, the ultimate mind game: Pegging.

Now, if you don’t know what that is… good. Stay innocent. If you do know… you already know how this ends. The Sheriff of Rusty Sprockets MCC: Groot – clocked on early but did not learn until it was too late. Which made it worse. Straight into paranoia mode. Spinning round, checking his back, suspicious of everyone. Didn’t help him because once it starts… it doesn’t stop.

People smiling at you? Suspicious. Standing too close? Definitely suspicious. Walking behind you quietly? That’s it – you’re done. It turned into a full-on mental breakdown in slow motion. Absolute gold.

Meanwhile, the rest of the site carried on – drinking, chatting, laughing, the usual rally madness ticking along nicely. But underneath it all… quiet chaos. Pegs appearing, disappearing, reappearing.

We had club members dotted around other rallies up and down the country, but for us – it was all about this one. Showing up, having a laugh, and helping Rusty Sprockets MCC celebrate a solid 35 years.

Final Word: Massive thanks to Rusty Sprockets MCC for putting it on and having us along. 35 years is no small thing – and they celebrated it properly.

As for OGRI MCC… well… we behaved exactly as expected. A bit loud. A bit questionable. Fully committed. Tidy weekend. Questionable decisions. Wouldn’t change a thing.

Kez

Taunton MAG – Tone Vale Tea Rally Report

Well… nobody tells me nothing… but apparently the Tone Vale Tea Rally was on and I’m very glad I found out.

The Journey

The journey itself felt like the opening montage scene of a proper British cop film being played to the songs scored by David Arnold. Setting off from Wales, 2 mad people from the ‘Rusty Sprockets MCC’ rode with me on our way down to Fowlers in Bristol before heading out toward Highbridge. This saw us cutting through the Mendips and deepest Somerset back roads. You know the kind – tight bends, rolling hills, views that make you forget you’re supposed to be watching the road but amazing biking roads. Places like Temple Cloud and Wells popped up along the way, full of that classic West Country charm. And then… there was Sexey. Yes, really – a village called Sexey.
A full village seemingly committed to the name – Sexey . With the standard village pub – The Sexey Arms, The local shop – Sexey Stores… the lot. I half expected someone to step out and say, “Yarp.” Proper highlight of the ride, if only for the confusion and double-takes.

The Rally

Rolling into the rally site, it was immediately clear – this was going to be one of those weekends. Sunshine from the off, a relaxed vibe, and the comforting smell of burgers already in the air. The kind of place where everything just clicks. For the greater good (all together – For the greater good).
The Tone Vale Tea Rally always delivers, but this one felt particularly special. The MAG team did a cracking job – everything ran smooth, welcoming, and exactly how a rally should be. No drama, no fuss, just good people enjoying bikes, beers, and music.
And speaking of music – some top bands across the weekend, including the brilliant Rizen, featuring ORGI MCC’s very own Brain (aka Wang) on lead guitar. Absolute quality, watching one of your own up there smashing it always adds something extra to the atmosphere. We sang, we head banged and we even attempted a weird arse moshpit which more like arthritic chickens running into each other.

The Food

Food-wise, you couldn’t go wrong – proper rally staples. Burgers that hit the spot and breakfast baps that sorted you right out the next morning. And then there was the Tea Tent. Strong brews, cakes that could probably solve most of life’s problems, and a place to sit down, recharge, and chat rubbish with whoever happened to be passing through. Essential rally life support, really… along with the occasional Cornetto.

Summary

The vibe all weekend was chilled – no rushing, no pressure, just enjoying the moment. ORGI MCC didn’t come away with any trophies this time, but honestly, that wasn’t the point. We were there, together as a club, catching up with familiar faces and meeting new ones. That’s what makes these rallies what they are.
If anything, this rally reminded me why it’s one of my favourites to attend. Great ride in, great people, great atmosphere… and the kind of weekend where you leave already thinking about coming back next year.

All in all – no swans, no paperwork, just a properly good rally. For the greater good.

Kez

So this wasn’t your typical rally. No massive fields, no endless rows of tents or engines revving at 3am. But honestly? It didn’t need any of that.
Llanharran MCC’s 10 – year anniversary turned out to be the perfect excuse to do what we do best – ride bikes through Wales, take the long way everywhere, and end up somewhere with a beer in hand.

The Riding

The weekend kicked off proper on the Friday at Kez’s place. Few beers, decent curry, the usual nonsense – stories getting better with every pint and plans getting looser by the minute. No stress, no rush… just a bunch of us settling into the weekend the right way.

Saturday morning started where all good Welsh rides should: Caerphilly Mountain, at the Mountain Monster Shack. Breakfast, strong brews, and that early buzz of knowing there’s a full day of riding ahead. Helmets on, engines fired up, and off we went.

The route took us carving through the South Wales valleys, the kind that twist and dip through old mining villages that feel like they’ve got stories in the walls. Up towards Hirwaun and then onto the Bwlch, which delivered as always. Big views, fast stretches, and, somehow, what may or may not have been a few full moons making unexpected appearances. Let’s just say, some sights can’t be unseen.
Second half of the run took us down toward Bridgend, pulling in at Thunder Road for a brew and a bit of a catch-up, bumping into the Welsh Coast MCC guys along the way.

That’s the thing with these weekends, you never really ride alone. There’s always someone you know, or someone you’re about to know. From there it was out to Ogmore-by-Sea: fresh air, waves crashing, a quick breather before carrying on to Barry Island. Of course, you can’t go to Barry without at least mentioning Nessa. Some went looking. Not sure anyone found her, but there were definitely a few impressions flying about.

The Party:

By the time we rolled into Llanharran MCC’s anniversary do, things were in full swing. And from that point on… well … things went a bit Twin Town.
Beer flowing freely, people laughing louder as the night went on, and the kind of games that probably seemed like a good idea at the time. Pegging made an appearance (no explanation needed, those who know, know), and at some point “VeeVee” was unleashed – never a calm moment once that happens. A prospect might have had a slightly harder time than planned and a metal horse definitely didn’t sign up for what it went through. But like they say – ask no questions, get no lies.

Somewhere in the madness, OGRI MCC took a moment to do things properly. We presented Llanharran MCC with a token of respect – a handshake, a thank you, a few shots and recognition of hitting that 10-year milestone. It’s no small thing, and it deserves to be marked. Especially for a club that’s always shown up to our own Summer Rally consistently and been solid people from day one.

After that, it was back into the chaos. Conversations drifting all over the place, half of them making no sense but feeling important at the time. Music up, people dancing like nobody was watching (and even if they were, nobody cared). Just one of those nights at the Ponta-Rosa.

Summary:

By the end of it, it wasn’t about whether it was a rally or not. It was about the ride, the people, and the reminder that this is what it’s all really about – getting together, having a laugh, and making the kind of memories you’ll only half remember but never forget.
Massive thanks to Llanharran MCC for putting it on and for the hospitality. Here is to another Ten years and more for them.
Good people. Good ride. Slightly questionable decisions.
Wouldn’t change a thing.

Kez