Situated just 2 miles north of Ashwell, The Wagon & Horses (a fine Greene King establishment) is Cambridgeshire's most southerly pub and seemed like a good place to lay a run from on the Sunday. On the Monday, the heavens opened and completely obliterated most of the trail leaving a frantic Big Blouse to try and find his original trail before the hash arrived! Thankfully most were intact, although it appeared that some kind local lads had altered the 'ON INN' to read 'ONION', fortunately this was corrected with only 15 minutes to spare ! (NB - I'm sure I speak for the entire Hash when I say we don't really want to instigate an Onion check before the 'On Inn'?)

It was a beautiful warm spring evening (I told you to write the words after the run not before it - Ed - hey, I don't need my comments added in for me!!- bona fide ED!) and then it's 7.30 sharp and Ringkisser calls the circle as it appears that G-String is late, which comes as a total surprise to the rest of the Hash. Amazingly 4 newies Helen, Ali and Steve and Paper Boy from the Cambridge hash) have been tricked/conned/threatened into coming and seem almost to be enjoying themselves. The hash symbols are explained to the newies and, as a mark of respect to the beautiful surroundings, the hash flour has been upgraded to 'Morrisons finest very strong white' and No Knickers provides a couple of hash carrots to placate any savage horses the hash encounters.

Various Mutts (and Pooper and Sasquatch) appear to be eager to get on with it as they are gambolling around and straining at the leash - especially Mekon's mutt which appears to be trying to assist her bizarre Yoga warm up (but fails miserably by just lying all over the poor hasher).

Then, the Hares call the off and we're away right of the pub with Pecker and Mabel charging off in separate directions like a pair of speed crazed gazelles admirably followed by Paintball and Captain Haddock. A check is spotted and the hash duly check it out, on on is called by the Hare only to lead most of the entire hash to a falsie, with grunts, groans and the occasional woof, the hash retrace their steps and we're off down a footpath by the delightful church, and into a series of moans from the knitting circle of have discovered some nettles, in time to be joined by G-String and his mutt who are fashionably 15 minutes late. A small stile holds the hash up for several minutes while various mutts tangle themselves to anything in their path but eventually the hash are over and a small falsie fools no-one except My Little Pony who assumes he's on to a good thing, only to find he isn't.

Then its down a small hill after another minor falsie and along to a check by the stream, check it out is called by Florence who leads our merry band of hashers to yet another falsie, (whilst the hash continually dodge the unhinged woofing unguided missile that was Not My Bitch who appeared to be intent on taking hashers out without any prior warning), which does fool the entire hash and delights the hares considerably. Back to the check and we're off along the gently meandering river and across the fields to a small bridge which most of the FRBs ignore and run straight through a bar onto the held check.

The hares call to check it out and White Rabbit picks up the trail early on, once again a clearly demented Mabel hacks off towards Guilden Morden followed by a clump of keen hashers. The rest of the assembled throng lead by Pecker & Mekon and her mutt belt up the hill, and both sets of hashers are rewarded with two cunning falsies.

With foul moans and curses the hash retrace their steps once more and the on on is called, a short spurt up the hill to the cross roads provides some sport for the hash and we're off again. Two minor falsies fool only Pecker and Five Baah who are now fed up with being continually caught out. Then it's on on again past a beautiful house and possible home for retired hashers, and yet another stile where several mutts generally hack about barking hysterically and causing absolute mayhem with the local dogs. Mabel, Pecker and a huge array of FRBs charge across a picturesque-as-buggery meadow covered with buttercups, while the knitting circle pause for several days to admire the view and generally chat. Over the last stile and the hash cunningly sniff out the last trail pausing only to hit the last falsie as Shagpile and Underlay belt off in entirely the wrong direction.

The Hare leads the hash across the last (decidedly damp) corn field in a erratic and disturbing zig zagging fashion before Pecker spies the ONION er, I mean ON INN and the hash are home and er... damp.

Down Downs awarded to:

The Hares (Big Blouse and Florence)