Run 1183

Sunday 15 December 2013

The Blackbirds, Flitwick

Hares: Private Parts and Blow Felt

HASHERS: 16  MUTTS: 2  NEWBEES: 3



The HM is pleased with his weekly joke


Fat Controller prepares another downhill onslaught


H5WI - see a pub, circle up outside it

NB: Names and places have been automatically spell checked in order to avoid causing offence at this festive time of year.

'Twas the night after Posh Nosh, and the gallant survivors gathered in the location known as the Blackbeards to collect their thoughts and remember the fallen. They stood in a circle, called to order by Crap tin Fartstick who introduced 3 newees to the cause. They were Christine: a friend of Pussy Gallop, plus the parents of Spunk Bucket.

The hares were a curious combination: the veteran Privet Pants and the virgin Blowtop. They clearly couldn't be arsed to explain the run markings to the newees and just sent the survivors out to go and find the trail. This was located by the noble Pong whose decades of experience in the jungles of Borneo were of great benefit in the urban uplands of Flitwick.

The pattern of the exploration was not unexpected: the usual FRBs included Count Toadkiss, Rabid Wetdude and Ringing – they all returned for numerical reasons at certain points during the run. The huge surprise came at the bottom of the first field when Submariner found a ladies' check and went the right way. The clouds parted and angels sang in celebration. Meanwhile the FRBs found the number at the top of the hill, but their songs of celebration were less noticeable.

From here, the hairs followed the tradition set by the Grand Old Duke – having marched them up to the top it was necessary to march down again. There was respite here in the form of a held check, followed by a short stretch along the road in the direction indicated by the herrs. Before long Lesbo was blowing his own horn in front of The French Porn, accompanied by his canine friend Jock.

Meteorologically the survivors were lucky, at times the grey carpet of cloud threatened to rain down fire and brimstone (well, rain at least) but the spots that materialised didn't come to much. The ground was soft underfoot with shiggy in places, which the valiant heroes took in their stride. A final loop through the wood for the runners while the walkers took the direct path. Before long the troop had returned to the pub where Jock was triumphant and everyone became contaminated with cheese.

ON ON

Private Parts and Blow Felt

How THE GM did 1183


Pussies - will it be hard enough for a Newbee?


Spunk Bubble wore the Hashit but Mum had the Dodgy Socks


Jack presented with The K9 Award