Even before the hares set off to lay this (allegedly) live trail, everyone at breakfast insisted on asking me "who's setting this run?" As if I'd know, having (for once) had bugger all to do with any of the organisation annual hashing fiasco. Eventually I found out that Shaggy and Boggy were today's partners in crime and that they had already f**ked up by not getting hold of sufficient flour before leaving the Oaks. A trip to the local Tesco's sorted out this gross misconduct and away they went with 15 minutes to spare.
We gathered outside at 11 prompt and were briefed by Matilda (eager to impose his new RA credentials) that
"We don't know when they went, we don't know where they're going, we don't know if we need any money for beer stops and we've no sodding idea what markings they're using.") Situation normal, in other words.
Rapunzel was summarily presented with a bag of flour and ordered to wipe the arse end of the trail a bad
enough job when one knows where the trail's going almost impossible with a live trail and two rogue hares. Talk about the blind leading the partially sighted!
Nonetheless, off we all set optimistically (and naively) and quickly navigated the rough estates, made famous by Threeskin's hooliganism several years ago. Pints was but a dot on the horizon as we puffed, panted and prostituted our way to some high, open ground with beautiful views over Pendle Hill, the local abattoir, sewerage works and satanic mills. Down through a private ginnel, an icy, field and eventually to a pub stop, where our allotted real ale ("Titanic") set the tone for the rest of the day.
"A Big dog came to get us and we sent him after Sleeping Bag!"
"Rapunzel got lost and we got to the beer
stop half an hour late!"
Our imported songmeister (Long Hose) closed the circle with Swing Low.
A bloody great weekend. On On to AGPU 2007.
Jake & Biggy.
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