After months of preparation, the 555 weekend was finally here. And what a weekend it turned out to be, it certainly caused a few beer monsters to cut short their winter hibernation and join in the fun!

Run 554 started things off and had a 'Babes in the Wood' theme. In addition to the expected nappy-wearing hashers, it produced an assortment of hashers wearing figure hugging dresses, négligées, long flowing wigs, skimpy skirts and false tits - and that was just the blokes! The sight of 100 plus (over)grown adults dressed like the inmates of Bedlam, caused the Phasels Wood scouts and guides to pause in their camp fire making as the hash trotted by. Paintball who was dressed as a fat tart, made three young cubs' day by handing them his false tits which were beginning to chafe. Last seen, they were asking Akela to get her's out for a comparison. I expect that the boys-in-blue will be knocking at Paintball's door any day now.

The two RAs were obviously going to make the most of such a large pack of hashers, and had set up a full altar. The circle was going to take even longer than usual, but no-one really minded as the booze was already flowing. Various down-downs were awarded, but to be honest, they are now just a blur to me, lost in the mists of drunkenness.

The evening's entertainment began with live music from Donut's pal's band (name forgotten) and the hashers got down to what they do best - drinking. Bar managers Cardiac and Shaggy were confident that the 8 tokens per day would be enough to sate the thirst of most hashers, and that the 11 barrels of Potton brewery's finest would be more than enough. Wrong! by about 10:30 the beer monsters had drunk BOTH days worth of tokens, and were asking for more. Slight panic set in the bar staff, but Cardiac threw caution to the wind, and phoned the brewery to order more beer - only trouble was it was midnight and he'd had a jar or two! Fortunately the brewery were very understanding, and sure enough more supplies arrived the next day.

555 day dawned nice and brightly, after a freezing night. Those of us that were camping emerged shivering from our tents, the beer anaesthetic having worn off about 3 am. After a hearty breakfast (opportunity here to say a big THANK YOU to Pecker, who seemed to live in the kitchen for most of the weekend) it was time for the main event, run 555. There were two runs - a medium and a ball breaker - and a stroll for those who were really suffering. By now the weather had definitely taken a turn for the colder, and it was good to start running and warm up. The trail led around the King's Langley villages and it was a shame to see how some people have to live. The squalor and deprivation were shocking to behold - you won't catch me moving there. It wasn't all urban stuff though,the trail also went though the woods which were chock-a-block with bluebells, trees in bud, and birds-a-chirping. Made me feel right horny - there again, most things do.

Another marathon down-down session was on the cards of course, so it was no surprise to see Underlay and Blitzen get caught for a half yard, Mr X and AN Other made to arm wrestle with Pecker being used as the support table. Newly-weds Jorvik and Pussy Galore got out of bed to do one of many down-downs that weekend. A few of the beer monsters began to shows signs of fatigue (confusion, incoherence, loss of motor functions and bowel control) which together with the subzero temperatures, caused a gradual thinning of the circle. Not sure the RA noticed the reduced numbers, as his double vision was kicking in.

That evening's food was the BBQ, and thanks go to Le Grand Chef Donut and his team for their splendid efforts to feed the multitude. Following the scran [Eh? New word on me - Archive Ed], the stage was prepared for the H5 'Lovies' to do their thing. The audience, consisting mainly of the beer monsters was somewhat less than patient, encouraging or appreciative which caused quite a few attacks of stage fright amongst the 'thesps' and frequent trips to wee-wee. However, the H5 supporters in the audience knew what great efforts had gone into putting on such a production, and cheered the lovies with genuine appreciation. The highlights for me? Well, I was knocked out by Shrek, AKA G-String, and the puppies performance that I almost forgot to get any photos. A gentle rumbling was heard towards the end of the play, 'Five go down on Timmy' which I think was Enid Blyton turning cartwheels in her grave. Monty Python was much in evidence, and although I'll never tire of seeing the Parrot Sketch, I won't be rushing to see Cap't Haddock wearing red girlie underwear in a hurry. The finale was rightly a cracking end! Nice feather duster Pongo!

OnOn to 666 - Shagpile