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Feathers ride report.
With rain on it's way, my original plan was rapidly going out of the window.
A quick look round showed a good turn out, lets have a head count. 
One two three four, you're starting to feel sleepy. Five six seven, eyes starting to go.
Eight nine ten, you're in a deep sleep.
Now then, whenever the ride leader hears the words, Turners lane, Lewis street,
or up the Ocher. He will immediately abort the ride and head for the nearest pub.
Also, anyone who passes Feather on a climb, will feel their legs turn to jelly and be
unable to peddle, until they drop back behind him. And finally, every time Crock
makes up a word, such as Cuprisol, mechanicry, photografist, etc.
everyone must down their pint a shout Huzzar!
That should liven up the rides.
Ok, three, two, one. Back in the room!

So all in all a tidy ride with some old trails, a new one and the usual mutiny to the Maen.

Ride report done,
Feather McKennar signing off.