"I know you", said the landlord of The White Hart. We'd gone in to grovel/plead/ beg that he allow 40 drinkers with a running problem and a name that sounds like a drug addition, into his quaint country pub. We needn't have worried though because he was the landlord of the White Horse in Southhill, our regular venue for many a previous Hash Bash. He even agreed to throw in some live music on the night, not knowing that he was inadvertenly putting the kibosh on a mismanagement meeting. We duly then reckied recquied rekkied pootled (The spelling bee didn't like this either Florence) about a bit to plan the run. We found what promised to be idyllic hashing country which included open countryside, alpine(ish) meadows and a swamp area for those with an affinity for smelly shiggy. The meadow had what can only be described as the biggest cow plop I've ever seen. I just didn't want to encounter the animal which had produce it, unless it was a joint effort and these cows were into synchronised cow plopping. As for the swamp, the only bits of our bodies which were showing on that wet and thundery evening were our faces and the tips of our fingers from under a layer of waterproofs. Even so the mozzies managed to find their supper and we had bites on our little fingers. Matching gnat bites, how quaint.

We duly laid the run, on one of the few scorching hot days of this year. F'Ka Duck is a virgin hare so I managed to convince him that runs should only take an hour and a half to lay. I didn't tell him though that I've never managed to lay one in less than three hours, with the longest taking seven hours (ran out of dust at the top of Pegsdon Hills and had to walk all the way down again). However, four hours later we staggered back to the car, just in time to not make the New Moon run. (That's the worst excuse yet for not running). Still we made it to the BBQ instead.

Well I think this is long enough for a set of words. Surely the first words in history that have been produced before the run and haven't mentioned the actual run. But let me guess...It was a good turn out as it was a fine evening. It was probably the best run Pongo has never been on. Pecker refused to come back to the check when on-on was called in the opposite direction to where he was going. Several of the men-folk suddenly sprout boobs and think they can run the ladies check, and Shaggy gets the hash-it. Was I right??????

ON-ON Florence & F'Ka Duck

Only right on the first two counts Florence. Ringer was first down most of the falsies. He did come back when the on-on was called in the opposite direction and he was quick to cotton on to the fact that after he had run the first few falsies no one followed him. And NO the men didn't dash to run the ladies checks, if fact they stood waiting. Having worked out the right trail they gleefully watched the ladies run long falsies. Due to the fact that the RA spent the run in the pub, he said he got lost or something, the hash-it was not awarded. Why didn't you award to the RA, GM?

Down Downs to the hares for a good run, to Boycy and Marlene for their 25th anniversary, and to Big Bird and White Rabbit for completing 300 runs.