10 weary Goodgymmers took a boat down the New River towards a mission that seemed to shift from under their feet.

Mosspocalypse Now

Let's call a broken hand trowel a broken hand trowel and admit at the top of the report that tonight was indeed a very soggy and chilly night.  No amount of poundshop wordsmithery will be able to sugar coat that one. Not even one bit. Oh no.

Thankfully, a short run from HQ to the Sports Centre was enough to warm the cockles of our frosty souls and our Goodgymmers dived into the task at hand with gusto.

A team led by a self-proclaimed, world renowned Moss-Lover proceeded to terminate with extreme prejudice a living wall of moss with such force and enthusiasm that not one but two of Gramp's hand trowels were broken in the process. Reader, the grunting. The cackles. The singing. The determination.

Sam, Nurjehan, and Carolina did well to steer away from this trip into the heart of darkness by litter picking around a very slippery running track but even they were eventually seduced by the appeal of the mossagedon.

As the cold night threatened to chill our bones again, we stopped for the night for selfies, high fives, and jokes.

Join us next week when we'll be visiting our friends at T On The Green for more fun and games.

Peace <3