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Sunday Morning Coffee Cruise - Burford - 10 May


A very good turnout of cars (a few below) and we will always travel for biscuits!

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BISCUITS!!! Who ate all the biscuits? Did not get within sniffing distance of a biscuit. Must be losing the plot. Not getting enough sleep in the afternoons obviously.

Great pictures of some of today's assembled vehicles. Thanks.

OAP Working for Burford
 

ORIGINAL: VITESSE

...clog dancing is for us ooop north![:)]-another OAP

Colin,

It is not widely known but there is a long standing tradition of formation clog-dancing in the Cotswolds. The teams are mostly nocturnal and operate clandestinely which is why visitors to the Region are rarely aware that this traditional form of dance is practiced in these parts. This is largely due to historic reasons as clog-dancing has, until repealed by Gordon Brown in 2009, been illegal under local by-laws. The nocturnal habit has however persisted and formation clog-dancing has remained a shadowy night-time activity with match kick-offs always starting after closing time. Because of recent health and safety legislation, teams are now required to wear reflective safety clothing so are slightly easier to spot at the clog-dancing pitches, these being mostly located along an unspecified stretch of the Windrush Valley and known only to locals.

Whilst the Cotswold style has much in common with Lancashire and Yorkshire clog-dancing styles, the flying Half Bampton with Partial Groin Action and the Curbridge Erotic Elbow Drive are unique to the area. Other differences occur with the team cries. Whereas Northern teams declare "Keep them knees stylish!", Cotswold teams cry "Keep your groin firm!". Whilst Cotswold teams wear traditional moleskin steel reinforced industrial thongs complying with EN 510:1993 (the standard for protective clothing for use where there is a risk of entanglement with moving parts) in the local Cotswold style, in common with many Northern teams their footwear of choice is Yorkshire-made Walkley clogs, specifically, the high performance Walkley Gibson GTR version, shod with an iron sole and heel (ISAH).

You may be interested to know that in the village of Ducklington, a derivative version of formation clog-dancing known as 'cloggin' and lobbin', is played in a three-sided court where 'cloggies' dance whilst hurling heavy wooden clubs at the opposing team. As with traditional clog-dancing, the team with the last man conscious wins.

Several R31 members who frequent this forum are accomplished and championship-winning 'cloggies'. However, for reasons of confidentiality, and to avoid potential litigation, we are unable to reveal the identities of those individuals. I am sure other R31 members may be able to provide further insight into this particular cultural tradition within the Cotswolds.

Hope that helps.

Alan
 
Its one forty three am.

Alan your post is so funny it is preventing me from sleeping!

OAP Proud to be a member of R31

 
Alan,
I am internally indebted for your eloquent,humorous,somewhat ludicrous yet manic explanation of the clog dancing scene in Oxfordshire,particularly in that delightful yet OAP populated fringe event called Ducklington-such elite heath what I have visited in an early life,nay,indeed my sister & brother-in-law lived there some centuries ago when he worked for Radio Oxford,I believe a pensionable but part time employment opportunity for quasi professional but semi retired Lancastrian clog dancers of the 7th Masonic order known to enjoy secret ,possibly illegal nocturnal activities but which for some quirk of symbiotic BBC pension trust regulations qualified for pensionable purposes.

Your support in this matter has been gratefully received & after suitable doses of 18 yr old Scottish Malt whisky fortified with disembowelled SNP herbal remedies will be worn always, particularly after promiscuous midnight bouts of another Northern speciality-Gravel Hurling.
 
Colin, Now you're talking... Gravel Hurling.

You may be interested in the Cotswold entry from the Gravel Hurlers' Official Year Book 2011:

"Gravel hurling is practiced in the Cotswolds by a small elite group that have become known as the Chipping Norton Set. It is of note that the term 'Chipping Norton' is derived from the late 1920s when members of a local temperance movement adapted the popular Northern game of Gravel Hurling and used a Norton motorcycle to fling piles of gravel or 'chippings' made from local Cotswold stone, at the windows of local public houses. The town where this activity took place had originally been called Higher Wychwood Without By St Paunce's Common (named after a 6th Century Christian missionary and evangelical nose flute player, Paunce) but later adopted the rather shorter name, Chipping Norton. Local celebrity players of the game include Jeremy Clarkson, David Cameron, Rebecca Brooks, Alex James, Steve Winwood and Gerald the Pangolin.

In recent times, local Subaru WRC owners have further adapted the game (now accredited under FIA rules) and use their cars to hurl gravel at other parked cars when exiting gravelled car parks, most notably that of the Tw4t and Hamster in Minster Lovell, which locals now sometimes refer to as Chipping Subaru."

Alan.

 
It is time to come clean about why I could not attend the coffee meeting yesterday. I was actually recovering from the annual west-Oxon dark clog dancing championship held Saturday night in Morrison's car park. I was part of the Carterton Colly-throwers going for our first championship, we were pitched against the Witney Wranglers, Bampton boat bashers and the Filkins firkins. Never a sight has been seen as we lined up in the traditional Carterton uniform- a bowler hat with a tomato perched on top, striped braces, thong, red rugby socks pulled up the knees and hob- nailed clogs.
The event started with controversy as the Filkins firkins were disqualified after their hob-nails were found to ne 1/16" (no metric measurements here) too long. After that we all lined up ready for battle, there was Clive (the shaker) Collins, Dave (disco light) Gothe, myself and of course Bob. As the tension mounted we unleased our secret weapons the led flashing thong (kindly lent to me by Kirk), the sodium lights of the car park shining off our tomatoes and our led lights flashing what a sight to behold as men ready to compete for their own town.
Well battle started sparks flew from our clogs as we kept up with the competition, after a perfectly executed Fernham flying flop the Bampton Boat bashers knew they were not up to it so backed out gracefully. It left just us and the Wranglers left, well the clogs looked like blurs as the dancing continued the led lights flashing the battle was in full swing. After a combination of a Faringdon four foot stomp followed by a Clanfield clatter and finished with an awe inspiring Shilton slide we were on a roll it looked like we had it in the bag. Then Bob, yes Bob with the adrenaline pumping went for a Fulbrook flip, everything stopped, It seemed like slow motion, there was this horrible sound one clog went left one went right and the thong just gave up and flew as if it were a bird freed from a cage, and Bob was just left in a heap on the floor. After all our dedicated training our hopes of becoming champions were dashed.
This is why I could not make it not that I had to work all Morning

I am only allowed to shed light on the dark clog as long as I do not divulge any details on the moves or up coming venues.
 
That explains a lot James. We appreciate your update of local clog-dancing activities and the personal risk involved in reporting this. Kirk will be glad to get the hi-vis kit back for later this week.

Alan.
 
Alan,
I prepared an interesting piece gleaned from a Lancastrian magazine but unfortunately it got wiped by the club' server as I had left it over lunch to gather my thoughts in the interests of truth & originality.

I have suspicions that someone somewhere doesn't like us divulging these secrets of our counties-takes me back to one of the Goon show episodes!

Will have to rewrite it in Word-later
 
I feel it is time for the dark-clog to move forward I have consulted the top cloggers and I am allowed to mention small details about this secret dance crew, but as I said before no details can be posted as these moves have been passed father to son over generations. The origins are of great cultural significance, a lot of the moves have developed from the original moves like 'quick its a rat stamp on it', and 'oh bugger its gone up my trousers'. These moves however dated in todays dances are still revered and when a centenarian dons his clog uniform and does these classic moves it brings a tear to your eye and a lump in your throat (this might be more due to trying not to be sick) as he swing his legs and stamps those clogs. Obviously these moves become refined in their local area and then take that name.
This is also a clue to the choices of each teams uniforms, no trousers and thick socks.
The origins go back to the late night gathering around the monstrous technology of a threshing drum. The original dancers performed these dances to tame the mechanical beast and to dominate its spawn. It is rumoured to have originated in the west country, my own personal thought is that there was too much scrumpy and loads of rats in the straw. However it started the clog dancing once it had turned dark was to be a thing of rumour and myth, a dance crew so secret even those who were members were not even sure it existed.
This is why it cannot be compared to the northern clog dancing or light clog as we call it.
The ferocious jealousy between us and Morris Dancers is historic, they were first formed by Redgath the fourth as a crack hit squad to flush out dark-cloggers. The whole thing is a trap, as soon as they see a hob-nailed clog twitching to the music you will really see why they go around with sticks, and as to why they wear white, the same as a slaughter man, easier to wash the blood out. It is from these, I fear most for disclosing a snippet of our illustrious and colourful history. Luckily you do not find them in a forum such as this, Morris Minors (their preferred battle tank) yes, Porsche no.
This information is of upmost secrecy, I know that I can trust all of you.
 
James ,your secret is safe with me,but could I ask you to let Alan read the included article gleaned from this well known & revered Lancashire magazine. Thanks.

Alan,
It is really great to hear that the great Lancashire tradition of Gravel Hurling has migrated so well to the Southern counties of England & also has been brought right up to date with your automotive variants.
So much so that I have copied you in to a recent article that appeared in that most venerable magazine,Lancashire Strife which surprise,surprise recently featured a really good article about the origins of Gravel Hurling To add validity,it has been known to include features about another northern tradition-Porkers in the Trough ""which runs this year on Sunday 5th July.
To quote the article:-
Our correspondent Fred Minge recently travelled the width of Lancashire mainly from the east of Preston covering the towns & villages of the Ribble valley as far east as the Yorkshire boundary taking in places such as Chipping,.Longridge ,Accrington,Burnley,Stonebridge,Stoneleigh,Nelson ,Colne & Clitheroe in a long held quest to discover the origins of the well known Lancastrian sport of Gravel Hurling.
In his words:-"After a tiring 4 weeks,it seems that the sport had it's origins with the Stonemasons who worked for the local Lord of the Manor,Lord Stone of Stoneleigh Hall,in his large stone quarry.Apparently it started when stonemasons all busy working & cutting stoneblocks for the Estate buildings started to lob (from the word,lobby meaning ""trying to converse with-)small stones chipped of the blocks at each other,to gain the other person's attention as shouting didn't work due to the noise created by their endeavours.
However,this practice existed for some years as ""a lob- until theLord married a women much younger than him called Nicole.After only a few months living with him in the draughty StoneleighHall,she complained to her husband that she permanently felt cold(not unlike many women it seems),particularly in the nether regions & could he do something to warm her up..Readers will be familiar with their history on this subject & remember that in those days,the mid 1700's,no undergarments were worn by men or women.
He set his mind to find a solution & within weeks had come up with what he thought was a practical solution both for his darling young wife,women in general & also men of the period fed up with having wet legs after relieving themselves.
He quickly had a pair of what he initially called """undertrousers" made up by the estate seamstress & patented his idea.At 1st,these novel undergarments were not sewn up at their legs ""a practice thought to allow freedom of ( pardon the pun) expression in terms of flatulence no doubt caused by the copious quantity of beer/meade consumed in those days when clean water was not available.
I'm advised that this initial invention was quickly followed by 3 others all of which were carefully & fully patented..
These were in date order:-Sewing up the undergarment legs---the invention of elastic thread which allowed the "stretch " necessary for easy ventilation of the garment & lastly, the most significant advance-the Double Gusset.
The good Lord now had to come up with proper names for his inventions & with a flourish matching the cleverness of his inventions,he quickly named them after his young wife-Nicco which rapidly became adulterated to Knickers-Knicker Elastic & the novelty-Double Gusset Knickers.
An improved prototype was quickly produced,given to his wife who was absolutely delighted with them.As news got around,every woman (& man) wanted them.In fact when the King heard about them ,he immediately sent an order for several hundred for the Queen,the Lord being totally overloaded.
So a huge team of outworkers using every seamstress in every village & town on the estate was set up with a delivery system to collect finished Knickers from the sewers for final dyeing & packing for onward consignment.But it needed a message system to alert the delivery men.The Lord turned to his head stonemason who suggested the "lob" method but with a subtle twist-the Lord provided every sewer with a custom hand beaten metal bedroom "potty" which was placed outside each cottage and a basket of Gravel kept inside the cottage where they sewed.
In those days a definitive quantity of sewing was called a-"Hurl" & so everytime a seamstress had produced this requisite amount ,she lobbed a piece of gravel into the potty,the clang of which alerted the delivery man.
Very quickly afterwards the generic term-"Gravel Hurling came to describe this signal system."
So readers ,thank you for reading this explanation & in closing could I enlighten you about a derivative of this old system.In his travels ,our correspondent came across what seemed to be an extremely old & worn cricket ball & was told that it was made in the late 18th century by the head stonemason who found a large completely spherical ,smooth piece of gravel on the banks of the River Ribble,covered it with a red pigs bladder & used it to "Hurl" at opponents who attempted to hit it with a crudely fashioned bat.These opponents were very often men from across the Yorkshire boundary who came over to the estate on their only halfday off on Sunday afternoons.
E&OE
L
 
Very interesting.
I will have to look up in my 'An idiots guide to Oxfordshire and Berkshire' and recount to you the very interesting Radcot Granny fling.
 
The Radcot Granny fling.
This event has its origins just after the Norman conquest of 1066. A local Saxon baron Englebert the free as he was then known was looking to secure his estate located around Faringdon, his family strong hold was at Radcot bridge. His best option was to marry a Norman. He chose his bride on pure looks from her wood cut portrait. He never met her or her family until the wedding day. There was definitely a lot of artistic licence on the wood cut, his new wife was a pleasant person, but the same could not be said of the mother in law. She was pleased her daughter had married in this notable family but he was a Saxon. His wife's family connections enabled him to construct a stone castle (as covered by time team). Soon after the birth of his children his wife started to become more like her mother and Englebert the free became better known locally as Englbert the Henpecked. The worst time of the year was St. Swithin's day as this was when the mother in law visited. He managed to get a royal decree to put a toll on the road which runs from Faringdon to his castle. The St. Swithin's day toll on all grandmothers was founded. This attempt to stop a mother in law was the start of the Radcot Granny Fling.
The local population being tight and not willing to pay a toll started to gather on the north bank of the Thames and fling their grandmothers across. Over the centuries Englebert was forgotten but the Granny Fling developed to an important local gathering. The production of Granny flinging poles was a major income for Faringdon, these poles carved from yew look similar to modern pogo sticks, with foot pegs near the base of a 7 foot spiked pole. The Granny would cling to the pole as the strongest member of the family would attempt to fling her across the Thames. The competition between local families was fierce with young men looking for the more petite partner knowing that in old age this granny would be easier to fling across the river. This sport continued unchanged up until the 19th century when it was spotted by a traveller who was looking to find traditional rural sports and make them more main stream. He asked a local what this strange sport was called "˜grannyfling', "˜oh, Gravelin it could be really popular', the granny and her foot pegs were removed and with a few more spelling mistakes modern Javelin was formed.

Taken from Gullyball's 'An Idiots guide to Oxfordshire and Berkshire'
 
One can see the point of that-however I would like to read the unexpurgated version-I am sure it would be a startling read & could indeed be turned into a film,unless it's not yet out of copyright.
 
All this talk about gravel hurling is a bit limp so I must relay this story. Oop North just east and west of Bradford (and a bit to the south east) men and some women (had to have hairy chests to qualify) used gravel flinging as a mark of their masculinity. Over the years this tradition gradually drifted south to the Black Country where it was taken up with gusto. Around 1484 Albert Pinchit got involved in the activity but on realising the tradition was from oop North and a sign of masculinity decided to show the namby pamby Northerners what was what. Albert considered gravel as a bit wimpish and upped the ante by establishing BS 473 and a half. This British Standard, which still pertains today in parts of the Midlands, determined that rocks weighing between 7 and 14 onces should be hurled, rather than mere gravel, if you had any pretentions regarding masculinity. At the first ever BS 473 and a half ratified hurling event poor Albert met his demise. From this point on the death rate for these events continued to escalate but the survivors were locally renown for their masculinity there after and did not have to work and were known as "layabouts" as they spent most of the day in repose. The rock hurling events were staged within a walled courtyard. This was to ensure that no one did a runner when things got tough and led to the expression between a rock and a hard wall. The local slang for a wall being a "playce". Hence the saying "between a rock and a hard place" to describe the possibility that you may have your brains knocked out either by a rock or on the wall when trying to avoid being hit by a hurled rock.

Unfortunately, despite the secrecy, the local constabulary eventually cottoned onto the rock hurling events and were determined to put an end to it as the local male population was diminishing fast. (The women, who also took part, tended to survive much more frequently as generally they were much tougher than the men and had less shrill voices). Alternatively injuries were such that the populace became unable to work thus establishing a tradition which continues to this very day (this no longer requires an injury). However, the chief of police one Aylie Yocardothat, cognisant of the cultural sensitivities involved and being an early advocate of community policing, realised that the local populace would cause trouble unless a satisfactory alternative to rock hurling was made available. After a heavy night on "Spittle", the local brew, with a few of his mates from the Rotary Club, Aylie had a bright idea. He thought that a large block fashioned from stone and weighing about 20 lbs would be a most suitable replacement for rocks. This he thought was a perfect solution. The locals not being too bright (another continuing proud tradition) could be sold the idea on the basis that the blocks, being far heavier than rocks, would be even more of a masculine proving misile. By a simple application Aylie could also get the relevant BS modified to incorporate blocks. However, Aylie reasoned that the blocks having large flat surfaces would, on impact, on a participant discipate their energy and cause fewer serious injuries and thus provide a workable solution to the reduction of the death rate. This theory was proven to the locals with the formula F = l x w x h + S (rn - 43) on wednesdays when there is an "r" in the month. The locals not being well educated (another feature proudly exhibited to this day) and too ignorant to admit their ignorance fell for it hook line and sinker. A well known local crone decided to tender for the contract to mass produce the blocks using her magical powers as producing them by hand would take forever and the populace would become restive whilst waiting for sufficient blocks to be manufactured. Besides it sounded like too much hard work to make the transition from simple rocks (found in the fields) to dimensionally accurate manufactured blocks, conforming to strict criteria, so Aylie thought this a good option and would avoid all the hassle with Drut from the health and safety executive. The block production was so successful that the manufacturing facility where the blocks were produced was named in honour of the crone: Blocks witch. This place has come down to us today as Bloxwich where once a year on a wednesday with an" r" in the month there is a historical society which secretly re-enacts BS 473 and a half.

OAP Working for R31
 
As a previous resident of the Black Country between 1969 & 1974,when we lived in Wollaston,near Stourbridge & a regular visitor since & to the wider area including Dudley,Bloxwich,Litchfield,Cannock & Walsall,my faint memories of the local leisure activities were aroused by your dissertation,Kirk & certainly anyone who has visited the Caves at Kinver Edge will have experienced the ghostly spectre ,particularly on a cold,fresh Autumnal day,that shrouds these caves .

I will have to dig into my archives but I am sure when rotavating our then new garden plot in 1969,I uncovered 1 or 2 of the very blocks you are talking about,as well as the roof off a Mini & a 10ft length of 2" dia heavy copper cable.

I am indebted to your scholarship as until now I had never been able to grasp their significance-all I remember at the time was that my father told me that my endeavours with the plot were what he expected from -to quote his very words-"a chip off the old block"-a phrase which now has clearly much greater significance-as then he had just been the Grand Master of the Masonic Lodge in Manchester
 
I will have to dig into my archives but I am sure when rotavating our then new garden plot in 1969,I uncovered 1 or 2 of the very blocks you are talking about,as well as the roof off a Mini & a 10ft length of 2" dia heavy copper cable.

Colin, I think that this is wishful thinking. I suspect the items found in your garden are the result of a crime of theft and the said items were stashed pending later recovery. My suspicion is confirmed by the length of 2" copper cable being one of the things found in your garden.

OAP Working for a better R31
 
But who would want to steal the stone blocks-at that time my wife had yet to
join the local Chapter of the Wollaston & District Witches Coven although
thinking back she had got partial to dancing naked around the trees in
Bluebell Wood which was just across the fields at the rear of our new house.
I had to complain about the blue stains on the bedclothes no less.
I have to admit to furtively creeping over to Bluebell Wood to
watch-unbelievably erotic & exotic to see the slender tendrils of bluebell
flower petals curling round her rapidly twirling feet & ankles,all the time
as she moaned a somewhat middle Saxon eulogy in a Bloxwich dialect.

Funny that,I have never made the connection between the stones & the
Bloxwich dialect before-it's all becoming clearer,nay,quite concerning the
more I think about it.
 

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