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YH3 Run 1454, New Inn, Baildon, 5th April 2010
Hares – Paddy O'Day and Wonky Donkey
Scribe – Jake the Peg
An Easter Eggstravaganza
How many 'eggscruciating' Easter puns can be crammed into one write-up? It's all old hat (or
bonnet), but I'm trying to hatch all the eggs I've found in the Pocket 'Oggsford' Dictionary
(although you'll have to translate them yourselves from here on).
Don't utter expletives at this point. If I expatiate excessively, it's your own fault. None of
you lot volunteered, so expiation must be expected.
You've had my exordium, now here's the exposition…
Whether extensive or exiguous you can't guess the size of a Bank Holiday pack in advance. With
several regulars exiled overseas or otherwise expatriated, we had no idea who would turn up.
Our hares – Wonky and Paddy - were exasperated before we began. They couldn't expel the pack
from the pub, and several hounds had exported themselves to a more exotic venue (The Halfway
House). All suspects were exhorted under threat of excommunication. Extenuating circumstances
were soon, however, exposed: The Hare Raiser had expounded erroneously on the YH3 website. The
pack was exculpated and Pansy may soon be executed.
Today, it was vital exoterically to explain YH3's eccentric markings since five new boots were
extant on their first excursion. As experienced trail-laying exponents, Wonky and Paddy
exhibited some suitable exemplars.
Excitedly we effected our exodus, but our patience was soon exercised to the extreme. Despite
close examination, we couldn't excogitate the exact direction at each check. To extinguish the
exclamations and expostulations, the hares expediently laid an arrow towards the river, thereby
expediting our progress.
Their trail laying was exonerated to some extent as the markings became more explicit whilst we
expertly skirted the river, taking care not to be excoriated by the barbed wire fences. The
pack's length expanded and many took the wrong direction at the next check, inexplicably
extravasating themselves towards Esholt rather than extricating themselves back towards the main
road.
At the regroup, expectation jumped when we found out that extra enjoyment was nearby. The hares
told us to explore the ground and thereby to expose examples of exfoliate confection. An Easter
egg hunt, in other words. No expense had been spared and the children (both young and ancient)
exulted as they each excavated an exceedingly excrescent pile of chocolate exuviae.
Our exalted spirits expired soon after these exhilarating exhumations. It was already dark and
the trail was becoming extraordinarily long. Surely the hares couldn't excise any extra effort
from us now? On the contrary – “Exelsior!” was the cry as we flogged upwards through dark fields
and steep ginnels to the very top of Baildon, expectorating and execrating as we went.
All energy expended and with chests exploding, we felt entirely exhausted by the exertion. There
was no time, however, even to exhale at the summit. With exquisite irony (and somewhat
extempore), we were led immediately downhill once more. As we were still a long way from the
pub, the hares were now obliged to expunge extraneous extracts of the remaining trail lest our
very late finish be exacerbated still further.
Unfortunately, this experiment in the art of expurgation backfired with an extra half-mile being
added inadvertently as we negotiated a council estate. The trail was now extinct, we had
excelled our finish time by an hour and we had been virtually exterminated.
Time for the circle. I'll try not to exaggerate.
Inexcusably, one of the YH3 exarchs (Easy Access) was taking an exterritorial exeat overseas. As
extradition was not an option, the resulting exigence was averted by Ever Ready who expropriated
Easy's RA executive powers by exequatur. He stepped forward exuberantly and expounded
expressively as he administered the evening's exequies.
The experience was existential, extrovertly delivered and carefully designed to extol the worthy
and extirpate the sinners. The exorcisms ran roughly like this:
- First examples were the hares. Wonky and Paddy were rewarded for a trail exorbitant in its
extortion of our last gasps of energy (actually it was pretty good, but don't tell 'em).
- Next up, our extrinsic guests – New Boots, in other words. The Mitchell clan (Caroline,
Lewis, Tom and Jack) exuded confidence as they exploited the opportunity of a welcome drink.
- The excuse for the next trio was filled with extreme exility. A strange set of landmarks
existed in the stats. Dubbed 'The Fat Ladies' Club', Flossie (588) Ginger (188) and Jake (688)
were not exempted from Evers' attentions.
- Jake and Wonky were called back under suspicion of exogamy. A long story which I'll not
exchange here, except to say “underpants”.
- Finally, we mustn't exclude Weasel Shit and Ginger Root, who were punished for random
misdemeanours, now forgotten and entirely external to my brain.
Evers finished his exegesis and I paid him the down-down dues with a mixture of notes and
exergues. Great food and raffle, and that was about that.
I hope you enjoy this Easter excerpt and that I've left no eggs on the exterior. Time for me now
to stop extruding this excrement and to run for the exit.
On On!
Jake (Chancellor of the YH3 Exchequer) AD 2010-05-02 20:30
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