(A potted history, as recounted by a senior member!)

Picture the scene, one evening, back in the dim & distant past. (Oh how apt!) October 1984 to be exact, seven idiots were sitting in a pub called “The Moores Arms” in the village of Norton Juxta Twycross, just off the A444 between Nuneaton & Burton-upon-Trent.
This motley assortment consisted of the following people, Ajey, Murdoch, Bala, Crock, Donna, Fraser & David Vickers. This group of friends decided to form a club dedicated to one of their favourite pastimes, namely drinking.
This “club” was christened the Norton Juxta Drinking Club & henceforth the clubs birthday has been celebrated on the last weekend in October.

Their other passions were motorbikes & rallies. Then, (in what was possibly the only rational decision ever undertaken in the history of this club!), they decided to combine all three of these things & their fledgling motorcycle club was born.
The club name was conceived by Ajey & Murdoch on an unspecified evening, as a corruption of the original drinking clubs birthplace whilst they were (surprise, surprise!) under the influence of alcohol. The club patch was designed to commemorate its origin as a drinking club & features a gold tankard on a scarlet background.

The first official business carried out after the formation of the club (here’s where things started going downhill rapidly!) was to elect a Chairman and Vice-Chairman.
It was decided by the Founder members that the Chairman should be Murdoch (because he was the complete package as fucking idiots go!) & Crock as Vice-Chairman (to keep Murdoch out of trouble!)

Due to the sorry fact that this inglorious rabble were ineptly led by an even bigger idiot, some of their jaunts around the country in search of rally sites, were almost always doomed right from the start!
 These forays out into the wide world, bikes laden with tent, doss-bag & booze didn’t always, shall we say, go quite to plan! More often than not, these trips away ended up with our hapless heroes going round & round in circles or ending up slap bang in the middle of nowhere!
Yet again, over a few pints (have you noticed the underlying theme here?) the phrase “JUGSTERS M.C.C. ON TOUR (oh shit!) LOST AGAIN!” was adopted as the club motto & a suitable motif was created. This design is the one that is displayed on the front of the tee-shirts & hoodies.

In the beginning, the original members & guests used to head off on the 3rd weekend every April to a place in the Cotswolds called Lechlade, where they used to pitch up & party for the weekend. After a few years of this they decided to organize their own rally on this date. This inaugural rally needed a name, so it was decided to give it the title, “The Bosted Bladder” in honour of a phrase used by all of the original members.

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When asked upon the morning after the night before, as to whether they had enjoyed a good evening on the piss, the usual reply was “yep, my bladders about bosted.”

Over the interceding years, most of the faces have changed, (in fact, only one of the “less than magnificent seven” remains,) but the club has not just continued, but thrived. Even though it now no longer resides at its birthplace. (The Moors Arms is now boarded up!) Members have come & gone, some have passed away, sorely missed by those that knew them, some have returned after being absent for a while. (seeing as they are Jugsters, they probably couldn’t find their way back to the meeting place!) 
But, as everyone who knows us will vouch for, the core values of the club remain the same; these are, in no particular order, knowing how to drink like a fuckin’ fish, party like there’s no tomorrow & have the innate talent to, at the drop of the hat, get well and truly, utterly & totally fuckin’ lost within four hundred yards of their own front door!