And so to Brecon where the MMC rose briskly on Saturday and were all out of the Bunkhouse by 8.30 AM. From there they went straight to the Pub to watch the Rugby. Enough has been said and written about this epic encounter but it is worthwhile saying that the locals were firmly behind England and several of our foreign members were much better informed about the gentleman's game afterwards. The weather was amazingly clement and while the South East of the Kingdom was being inundated with the worst weather since Noah built an ark (don't worry though there's still a hosepipe ban in Kent) the MMC were only had to contend with mild drizzle.

Mark and Alix were untouched by the Rugby fervour and so turned up the bunkhouse to find it deserted with the exception of Maria and John Brooks. The four of them went for a walk which took in Pen-y-Fan, Fany-Big, and a couple of other hills, including a second ascent of Pen-y-Fan on the way back. It was misty but pleasant enough.

Vanessa, similarly unimpressed with the Rugby went for a walk towards the unfortunately named Fan Y Big using the Cefn Cyff path. However about halfway she turned around due to low visibility (about 50m) and her lack of navigational skills in such conditions. She didn't want to tempt fate and continue the MMC's dinner meet tradition of calling out mountain rescue. Instead she continued the walk at lower level where there were actually views to be had.

The pub crowd finally emerged, blinking in the daylight, around midday to partake in various more traditional MMC activities.

A large multinational party consisting of Andy, James, Nick, Kate, Ricardo Steinar, Rob Newman and AG went cycling along the Taff trail. This was a pleasant if muddy experience which involved at one point negotiating a huge pile of trees that had been dumped across the track specifically to prevent access by bikers. Steinar and Ricardo had manage to rent brand new bikes in Brecon which were returned in a distinctly worse condition. As if Kate didn't need any more fuel added to her F' Wit bonfire it transpired that she hadn't done the quick release of her front wheel up during the ride. She hadn't realized that you were supposed to flip the lever back to make it solid so the wheel was only on finger tight. Somehow God or the Devil looked after her and no disasters occurred. Towards the end of the ride they pumped into David, Helen, Jessica and Beatrice doing some extreme cross country push-chairing along the canal towpath.

Fired up with energy from the rugby, Paul and Rob Brooks formed the core of the 'easy riders', opting for a 37 mile road ride to Merthy Tydfil and back, though there wasn't much mirth left in Rob's tydfil by the end. They spent 90% of the day cyling up hill and 10% going down. There weren't any flat bits. Paul coped well, tackling the 250 meter 1:20 ascent as though it was the flat bit. Rob discovered that his bike doesn't do 1:20 ascents, so he'll be upgrading to a better bike.

Sarah, Jules, Claire and Matt headed straight after the pub walking up Pen y Fan in the fog. A nice if somewhat eerie experience as the visibility was only about 50 meters. As they reached the summit the hordes loomed out of the gloaming, the army, the Duke of Edinburgh youngsters with 50kg packs and the odd local with dog.

Andrew Tonkin walked from the bunkhouse up the big Pan Y Fan thing in thick mist with about 50 yards visibility. He bumped into John Brooks, Alex Dees, Maria Thring and Mark Winfield at the top, all looking rather over-dressed with rucksacks, hats and all sorts. He pointed out he, with only a map & camera, adopted the, 'if you don't carry it you don't need it' approach to these things. He then walked down the way the Mark gang had gone up. At the bottom of Pan Y Fan he got himself tangled on some barbed wire and ripped his jacket & trousers, then took a wrong turn and in taking a short cut to get back on course he found himself followed by a herd of sheep, and then climbed over a farm gate which collapsed under him, but did the decent thing and propped it up again and legged it.

Zoe, Clare, Karen, Cheryl and Tara went pony trekking which seemed to go off pretty well. Despite having been carried around all afternoon they still all claimed to be thoroughly tired out by the experience.

Henry and John Bradshaw turned up as dusk was falling having watched the Rugby in London and enjoyed a quick trip up the roman road in Cum Cynwyn, or more accurately a slow push, before turning around in the mist at the col. The trip back to the bunkhouse was very exciting - although it was a wide track there were section of large stones which were pretty hard riding in the dark.

The dinner was held at the Usk Inn that certainly produced a quality of vittles superior to previous years. Nick's new car was tested to its capacity by taking nine people at a time to the dinner. "We've had fewer people on some meets" was one sardonic comment. Wendy's f'wit speech was eagerly anticipated and the institution of a sophisticated clapometer to gauge audience reaction to the nominees certainly reduced the subjectivity of the judging. Thankfully as a result of this device there were no ugly mutterings of rigged decisions that have raised their heads in previous years. The winner was of course Kate for a catalogue of disasters crowned by turning a rope bag into a terrorist threat by leaving it on the tube. The evening was rounded off back at the Bunkhouse where a few of the more tired and emotional members insisted on a rousing rendition of Jerusalem in honour of Clive Woodward and his merry men.

On Sunday Andy, Nick, James, AG, Henry and John Bradshaw went off to Cwmcarn to do a dedicated mountain bike route. This was excellent well marked trail in the style of Coed y Brenin. Henry was clearly suffering from a crapula and to the secret relief of everyone else this enabled plenty of stops to be worked into the schedule. Karen and Clare went off for plod in the Forest while this was going on. On returning to the café by the car park James astounded even Henry by eating two cooked lunches one after the other. After this the various parties dispersed homeward in a forlorn attempt to beat the traffic.

Delphine and Paul went for a 26 mile bike ride.

Despite John Brooks's suffering the previous day he was persuaded by Zoe to go cycling again on a gentle 15 mile pootle along the towpath. However this wasn't enough for Zoe, who dragged them needlessly up another escarpment so that they could plunge down some radical off road route back to where they started!

A large party of 14 went walking up to Fan Y Big this time up a path called Gist Wen. Excellent visibility meant they could see the entire Brecon range. This platoon then came back to the bunkhouse and decided it was best to hang around for an hour or so in order to hit the White Hart near Bristol when food was being served.

Rick and Nicky only turned up on the Saturday night because they had been doing an exciting "sock audit" on Saturday afternoon in preparation for moving to their new flat in Chepstow. They bumbled up Fan y Big on Sunday so Rick could have a schoolboy chortle about having hills with smutty names included in the meet report.

Rob Newman and David Dees stayed local and went for a super 38k ride from Llangorse lake over hill and dale including a super race along to the summit of Mynydd Llangorse and then a greasy, stony, rutted descent which tested their balance to the limit. They also rescued a lone German mtb expert whose chain had broken. He could not believe his luck when he was introduced him to master craftsman Mr Newman with his well nifty chain tool "I am learning ze lesson for taking this tool with me next time". They continued on to Pengenffordd and returned by way of Rhiangoll valley & Bwlch encountering plenty of mud and a puncture to boot, returning back to the lake before darkness. A good ride was had by both!

All in all a most pleasant weekend was had with a vigorous amount of activity and superb food at the dinner. Spare a thought though for poor Stefan though who was called back to work from the M4 to repair a particle accelerator.