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
