Shep Lord Lucan Hashgate Motormouth Wally C5 Magic Honeymonster Whinge Chopstix Foghorn Ladybird 2Bob Puddleduck Shamcock Big spender Jason Miranda TinOpener Ms. Whiplash LaybyLil Salome Eth Baldrick TT1 TT2 TT3 Condom & Femidom(I didn’t dare ask why!) PartyAnimal Richard Lonely Pilot. Greenfly eventually joined us after appearing on his bike half way round!

Shep and Lord Lucan had obviously had a word with The Big Guy Upstairs. The air was crystal; the sky azure; the sun warm; the mud plentiful - despite the fact that we weren’t going to see all of it. For this was the Braille Trail. An exercise in which the stupid led the blind, or vice versa. We were to follow about a mile of the trail blindfolded, entirely dependant on the good nature of our partner. Shep had thoughtfully provided what he said was a bag full of his wife Jan’s old drawers, carefully shredded into blindfold size remnants. It was an interesting insight into the female psyche. Several Hashers had brought their own masks. 2Bob resplendant in a hand fashioned creation. Foghorn with eyes on his. A Virgin Airline sleep mask adorned one of the more pretentious of us. On Shep’s command we donned our visors, uttered a short prayer and stepped gingerly onward.

The experience was very weird for those of us in blindfold - and must have been even weirder for the football teams and spectators at the sports centre as we edged forward, stepping carefully over non-existent holes and sweeping the air with an outstretched arm. Not knowing where your feet are stepping is slightly unnerving and getting the odd swipe with a holly bush even more so. Shep told me that the Braille Trails came into being because of a blind Hasher, Bill Gulliver, who was so good he was up with the FRB's much of the time. I became extremely aware of people around me - either by sound (the occasional curse as I stepped on a heel, or an apology as someone stepped on mine) or touch. Motormouth was leading me, closely followed by Puddleduck leading 2Bob. Both the lads did very well apart from underestimating our height. A mouthful of branch is not that tasty! After a while we swapped round and I had the pleasure of seeing the exaggerated knee lift of the sightless runners. I duly congratulated a blindfolded TT3 on her jogging technique. Her reply shall remain unprinted…

Eventually we reached the regroup where Shep organised down-downs for those who had peeked and those who had sinned. These were Foghorn, Shamcock, Condom and Duncan who were sprayed with some awful red concotion. However, they did get some Brakspears Strong Ale to compensate. I should point out that I spotted both Ms. Whiplash and Baldrick peeking, although Baldrick was a) on his own, so fair enough, and b) he was actually at the front checking out the trail! I should also point out that Whinge was using his sightless condition as an excuse for groping either Eth or LaybyLil, the rotten cad!

So it was blindfolds off and back to 'normal' Hashing. The trail wound across roads, through field and forest, over ha-has and up snickets. In fact it went every damn where. There were many cries of "Lost trail", particularly in that blasted cornfield where Hashers spread about and bent low like gleaners of old calling "Are you?" with increasing desperation. Even the virus-wracked Ladybird was driven to attempt some cheating in order to find the trail. Eventually we got to the excellent beer stop where Jan and friend (apologies; I don’t know your name) dished out mulled wine and superb ‘panatoni’ cake. Even Greenfly turned up for this orgy of chomping and slurping - so good of him to join us, don’t you think? Motormouth and Puddleduck got a lift back to Bishopswood with Jan. There were several Hashers eyeing the interior of the van but none brave enough to climb in and take the inevitable stick. So we carried on for the "twenty minutes more " as Shep kindly informed us. There was some great forest, lots of shiggy and a bramble-infested off-track sojourn where Femidom attempted to smash a whole felled tree to pieces much to our delight and applause. She’s obviously not a member of the Green Party. At one point the Hares took pleasure in leading us into a huge pit and great was the slithering backwards as I followed Lonely up the 1:1 incline. I then took great enjoyment in watching TT2 hurling his frame up the slippery slope. Time and again he gathered himself and rushed upward to come within an inch of a handhold, only to slip back. It was like watching some great salmon wearing trainers leaping up a muddy waterfall. Fortunately he wasn’t desperate to spawn so I kept him company by sitting on a log, reading the paper and smoking a pipe until his gasping (salmon) pink body flopped on the ground beside me. "Well done." I said. I stood up, folded my paper, knocked out my pipe.....and was off like the wind.

From here it was a fine cruise through good forest back to the car park. Excellent trail Shep and Lord Lucan and even though you didn’t lose Wally you did lose Ms. Whiplash and the monstrous regiment of women....

Motox (BoPeep) is holding running training sessions for all every Wednesday at 19:30 from Asda car park at Honey End Lane, Meadway, Reading. Everyone welcome.