After a very dubious 14 kms of moulin searching, the pack gathered on an altogether perfect November day in the countryside. Bets were taken then settled on the possible appearance of Quicksb> (our beloved G.M.), leaving the losers sincerely hoping he won't be driving home from Dec 11th's downtown run.

Three hares were needed this time out which considering the mountainous nature of our surroundings raised an eyebrow or two amongst the runners. Ankle-Biters were numerous probably due to the 'sweeties' en route rumours that had been circulating.

Wallabies Lover gave a quick talk, slipping in that 10 kilos of flour had been ladled out on course (costing 29 centimes a kilo (apparently)) so no-one had any excuse to get lost. A finger was pointed to show the rough direction and so we began.

Real countryside it was, with hunters and horse poo on trail, wildlife too if you count the Smart car sized pig putting on a show with his girlfriend to entertain the children.

'Look for the trail' circle markings were generously distributed, although it does have to be said that some of them were pretty redundant, as for a long while we followed a path through a hunting area with signs saying you'd be horribly shot if you were daft enough to leave the trail all over the place. Only Master Blaster was talked into exploring one of these dead ends.

A long hill on the way back finally slowed the ankle-biters down, and such was the view that cars were stopping on the brow to admire it. One such showed it's admiration by jettisoning rubbish from its window on departure, unfortunately the shouts of outrage from the nearest hashers were somewhat muffled due to them having their gobs stopped by illicitly acquired bonbons.

When all were back Dr Who busied himself with some mulled wine while the rest of us supped and munched our way through the assorted goodies until the circle was called.

Down-Under, Wallabies Lover and Helen were pleased with their votes of appreciation for the course, incorrectly felled their first DD so had to do a second.

D.U. and W.L. left the circle without their hard earned hats as this was their third haring, so they'll probably have to go over it all again.

Toulouse Hash virgins John and Kathy having travelled from near Calais to be with us were welcomed, cautioned as regards future FRBing and made no mistakes with their drinks.

Dr Who decided to take to heart the advice given on the internet and discreetly re-named Volvo Flicka in a 10 minute ceremony.

To break with tradition Taupeless behaved herself and didn't get DDed.

But the ankle-biters were rounded up and given coke DD's which together with the half kilo of sweets consumed should have ensured a tranquil return car journey.

It is worth noting that the returners were forgotten, notably Arlo who kept shtum and got away with it.

The Hash Hymn as always rapped it up.

Scrubber