First a quick mention about the Halloween party where the fancy dress competition won by both the most brilliant Penetrator and Ringkisser, bobbing apples by G-String, and tiny Florence for winning the under-16 year olds' competition for eating a string of biscuits in the shortest amount of time. Cunning Linguist won best pumpkin. Many thanks to those that made it possible, we're certain that a good time was had by all.

So despite any hangovers, bad breakfast fry-ups and the shift a time, a good turn out for the hash. Even Smiffo made a surprised guest appearance. Underlay had the horn! After a quick correction over the use of the word 'rule' during the circle and a quick cheer for the 150th anniversary of the Charge of the Light-Brigade, the bells did toll and so it was:

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death plain of Cardington
Rode the six hundred thirty-odd hashers

The 1st false run was found by G-String, and many a hasher he took with him only to find a bar. So it was back on the correct trail and across the fields, Stallion leading the way. First hold-check and all the mutts enjoy the water, while the hash watched. After the falsie had been discovered, the next check found Smiffo and G-String going off on solo efforts to discover both false trails while Bed Pan pointed the others in the right direction.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd - actually it was Shagpile's guts.

Striking out at the front went F'ck a Duck, really stringing out the pack. Unfortunately it was only onto a numbered check and a trudge back to the distant tail-end of the pack. Mutterings were heard:

Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die:
Bollocks, a numbered check...

What made it worse was Deadmeat playing tactically games with the FRBs (G-String, MLP, Supermini, F'ck a Duck, Dan Dare and Ringer). Part refusal from BOF meant she skipped this duty.

So while the mutts were left to tear lumps out of each other, the hares were checking out our whereabouts on the map, with MLP and Private Parts listening in to find out where all the falsies were laid. It was also here that the first three fell and the knitting circle (Iron Maiden, Shagpile, and Cunning Linguist) took the short cut. Later it transpired that Cunning Linguist took a backward tumble into a shallow puddle, Shagpile had a good laugh and Iron Maiden stitched him up.

Despite an altercation with the only horse, funnily enough charging the wrong direction, and Skidmark getting flobbed on by Max, there was a spot of road running on the home stretch. This was a bit longer than Dan Dare had anticipated as he took a wrong turn up a track straight away trying to outsmart the hares, and failed miserably.

With the short-cutters in the horizon, the pack caught them up, but then had to detour, while the back hashers White Rabbit, Nik-Nak, Donut, Overflo, Pongo, Deadmeat, brought up the rear-guard.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made! (lucky to get back before it got dark if you ask me...)

Pooper and MLP played games with the front hare, Bed Pan. And at last, the final stretch a big loop through farmland and back to the King's Arms. And so it was that they left on the bells and returned on the bells much to the approval of Blow Job.

Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of thirty-odd hashers.

Circle-up where Pongo championed the event as a good level run. Down downs for the two hares (Tight Wad and Bed Pan). Down-down and hashits to Shagpile (for pushing Cunning Linguist in a puddle) and Tight Wad, for wearing his competitive running sweater inside out as originally pointed out by Wonder Woman (thanks!).

BOF, Stallion, Smiffo, Overflo, Florence, and Pongo got a round of down-downs for not having their H5 tankards with them or desertion. And a last down-down for Private Parts for going to last night's party dressed as Arthur Dent. All of this was courtesy of the Secret RA, Pooper, who did a most brilliant job.

Charge!, or is that On-On! to the next run.