Saturday promised to be a beautiful day. The birds were singing, the sun was shining and the GM was due to collect a polypin of Potton's finest just after breakfast. Saturday did indeed live up to its early promise for all but 3 of its 24 hours. Needless to say those fallen three hours found the hapless hares (sans reliable OS accompaniment) facing the sort of conditions which can lead a man to make a kebab out of his favourite sled dog. Hey ho. We'd found a cracking pub in The March Hare and we were moist with anticipation for the day to come (Apologies. My poetic temperament got the better of me. That should just read, "We were moist because we'd been out in the p*ss*ng rain all afternoon").

On on to Sunday morning and Shambles aftershock. Roundabout this point grim realisation dawned on Jonty, co-haring for the first time, that he, rather than the Crammesque litheness that is the GM, would be front hare today. Rookie error!

The HM called the circle only to be reunited with his TWO long-lost hashits. I mean really, who would leave the hashit in a car park where it could be stolen? (More on that later but somewhere out there in hash land there is a hasher with a guilty conscience - you know who you are!)

On on. There was much running about and general tomfoolery to be witnessed in Dunton. All of this was deeply satisfying to the hares who hadn't laid a single drop of flour in the village. Finally, FckaDuck found the public footpath that would lead the pack out into the shiggy. On to the first check. One for the ladies. Mekon was off like a rat out of an aqueduct and soon found the quarter mile long falsey that took in Dunton's award winning sewage works. Hee hee. How the hares had laughed as they laid a trail right through a minging farm yard only to follow it up closely with 'Eau de après Shambles'. Be grateful, hashers, that this was at the start of the run and not at the end when you were all gasping for breath. Oh yes!?! We brought you back in the same way didn't we. Wahhey!

On out into the country where to be honest, the GM would need some input from Jonty here as there was probably a quarter mile between the two hares for much of the rest of the run. Still, for one of us at least, it was a grand stroll in the country and jolly times were had by all.

On Inn (for the select few that saw it - (yer right, I don't think so - Ed)). Down downs were had by the hares, for Florence for fiddling, for the GM for co-fantasising about Jonty with Paintball, Paintball for a remarkably similar offence, Snail for b*ggering off with the car keys, My Little Pony for exercising inadequate control over the keeper of the car keys, Bell End for forgetting something or other, W*nker the Banker for having the audacity to complete 10 runs after almost as many years of attendance, and for others who I can't possibly remember after my third/fourth trip to the middle. Of course, the highlight of the day was the christening of Ebony as Not My Bitch. I can't wait to see the looks on the faces of the good people of Potton next time Shagpile takes not his dog for a walk.

Finally, I must report a most heinous crime hashers. One of our number has purloined the hashit, even though to retrieve it from its hiding place would have taken all the skills of Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible. Personally, I believe that the only culprit could be Not My Bitch as it was right underneath the wheels of Paintball's car and, let's face it, as a hash we're rather short of wee agile fellows. I hope the RA is paying careful attention to this. Robbing the GM's hashit... I'm going to write to my MP: it's a disgrace!

ONON - G-String