Run No. 736 2nd October 2005

The Jackal, Thurleigh

Runners:  9
Mutts:  -
Ankle Biters:  -
Knitting Circle:  -
Apres:  -
Newies/Returnees:  -

(The next run is on SUNDAY from The Musgrave Arms at Apsley End. 11:00 start)

Well, I can accept apathy, hangovers, getting lost, senior moments, etc. but competitiveness? That's just a step too far for a Hash... (Still, hope you all had a good 10k run!) And so it was that just nine sturdy soles ventured out to prove that the world is round and you don't simply drop off the end just north of Bedford town!

A well dispersed pack at the beginning meant that the correct trail was eventually picked up with an unusual FRB duo of Flo and Nik-Nak leading the way. The first check was quickly found at the top of the steep hill, accompanied by grumblings of "Where's the short cuts?" This was going to be a long-day...

More mooching around before Big-Blouse caught the scent and led the pack along the road. Count Roadkill forged ahead only to be called back when the trail took a hanger-right through somebody's garden. Here we were confronted by one of many electrified paddock fences. Flo wished for longer legs and with thoughts of a singed minge gently eased her leg over.

So a quick skirt along the hedgerow, one false trail explored and then out into the open fields. With the hounds off the leash, a real hare made an appearance to give them some sport while Count Roadkill again led the way. Which was a mistake. While mutts and owners navigated an easier path, he went with Ringer, Big-Blouse and Nik-Nak on their own private excursion. Eventually they re-grouped with OverFlo and Hare while the others had gone ahead on a short-cut.

There's more picturesque scenery and even time for some blackberry picking for half the pack as they navigate more rickety stiles and overgrown footpaths before another excursion across the freshly ploughed fields. Amazingly enough they manage to rendezvous with the short-cutters, who, having failed to find the correct trail (lack of flour apparently) hung around until the hare sets them off on the homeward stretch.

No more false trails now, just a pleasant jaunt along the footpaths, until just past the giant pumpkin (that's fruit, not Flo) Count Roadkill celebrates the discovery of the 'On-Inn' and back to the pub we go.

With such a small group, and the circle called, the chances of a down-down were high and so it was, as the RA did his best (worst) to ensure we were all refreshed.

On-On, Tight Wad.