Sun-burnt and with aching muscles (due to the 50 mile bike ride the day before) - Capt F sets off to lay the run on Monday afternoon.

After leaving the outskirts of Shefford, I don't think I saw another person for over an hour. The scenery was to die for and the buzzards were circling overhead waiting for me to keel over with thirst. It took me so long to lay the trail that I had to pop into home ¾ of the way around, just for a rest. Still it did allow Poopa an opportunity to lay the last little bit of the run.

Thirty-two hashers eventually congregate at the pub. The most memorable arrival was Mekon and Dan-Dare who has great difficulty squeezing the car, which had a bike on its roof, under the hanging baskets that were adorning the archway to the pub car park.

No GM today, so Ringer calls the circle to order. Capt F admits to having clocked yet another year. Capt F advised the circle, that only one hare actually knew the trail and that he would have to be the back hare by virtue of being totally knackered from the preceding days physical exploits, so this could be rather interesting. The ON-ON was called and the pack set off.

The usual melee ensued with plenty of initial twists and turns and false trails, before Florence stumbles onto the correct trail and we all eventually break away from the pub.

An impish little loop took us almost full-circle to the White Swan pub, after which the trail leads off up Cockshoot hill. The broad beans are doing very well and a large contingent of Harriettes decides to have an impromptu feast. At the top of Cockshoot hill is an eight check and the likes of Dan Dare, Tight Wad, Five Baah, Super Mini, Penetrator and G-String are all sent to the back.

After a few false trails at the top of the hill, the trail loops back towards Shefford. Nik-Nak, Skidmark and Dead-Meat should all receive a commendation as they put in a sterling effort as F.R.Bs. The end of the path is roped off at just the right height to garrote any four-legged members of the contingent. Fortunately both Fifi (or is it Fliss) and Mack manage to negotiate the hazard without any mishaps.

It being so incredibly hot, quite a few took up the offer of the first short cut back to the pub along Bedford Road. For the rest it was a case of setting off, under the old railway bridge, through Shefford Hardwicke, through the old farm on towards Campton Plantation.

The run eventually went past the Bradley household, where a refreshment stop was planned, but because we were now 1¼ hours into the run, Jayne had already set off for the pub.

In a rare demonstration of disobediance, not one, but all of the pack refuse to follow the proper trial which detoured around the local school. Instead everyone made a charge for the pub.

As always the beer was excellent and down-downs were awarded to Capt F for his birthday, and the hares.

The secret RA - Tight Wad a- warded down-downs to Lady Penelope for blatantly advertising her massage business, Dan Dare and Fifi (or is it Fliss?) for what I can't remember. Stallion got one for a mystery crime, and Dead Meat also got one for either being a dope or taking dope - I am not sure which. Sorry for not getting this last bit right, but I was suffering from sunstroke.

On On to The Bell at Codicote

Capt F and Poopa