Greenfly Emma Ian Carina Di Clare Claire Duncan Sticky Dicky Gulab Ja Moon Foghorn Lemming Mother Theresa Spex Bill Potty Nutcracker Binbag Whinge Iceman Le Voisin et chien LaybyLil Ms. Whiplash BoPeep C5 Sue5 Mafia The Tremblers T.A. Mr. Mainwaring Dumper Septic Shamcock Cloggs DK Bomber Tom Hamlet & Jake TinOpener Miranda & Hans Honeymonster Magic Sukhpreet Jaspria Paella Dijoopay Marian Centaur Maddie Dribbler Butterfly 2Bob Puddleduck Anthony Cof Cap’n Haystax Spot

Poor Greenfly. To the crowd of well-wishers in the beautiful sunshine it was obvious that mental decrepitude was well advanced in the Emerald Icon’s brain cell. At the Gather Round we reeled back in horror as he whipped of his trousers(green) to reveal Superman-style tights(green) with a snakeskin codpiece. Even Whinge gulped nervously. With a manic gleam in his eye Greenfly went further to reveal a lurid (green) fluffy spider dangling from a silken thread at aforementioned codpiece level. With a nasty leer he yanked (no; yanked) at the beasty which crept horribly up his groin in a vibrating crawl. Ladies swooned; many an "Oh, I say!" was heard; horses shied; Jake lay down and covered his eyes with his paws. 50 is evidently a dangerous age. Thank Goodness I’ve a long way to go….

On Out we went and thanks to good trail laying and rank stupidity on the part of the FRB’s total chaos ensued - some people ran off towards Reading, more fool us them. Most milled aimlessly until almost everyone shot off up a track only to find a bar 6. Back we all came past the grinning Greenfly and, as it was his Birthday, we all grinned back. Shortly after this I came upon the first of many instances where Emma was to be found flat on her back on the verge. On the verge of what I’m not sure but, in answer to my question she arched a vampish eyebrow and replied that she was waiting for the sun. I believe that’s the correct spelling - I’ll leave it to you to decide.

And then we went into the estate. This was to be a memorable sojourn ‘twixt the suburban dwellings. Sticky Dicky and I lost the plot and led a small group of panting Hashers in one end, little realising that at least one other group had entered at the other. But not for long. We met them dashing towards us as we followed a false trail backwards. For the bemused watching car washers it was like a ragged version of a marching band, with sweating Hashers racing through each others ranks in opposite directions, swearing and cursing. We stopped. We started. We went on. We went back. Until eventually Sticky and I realised our mistake and shot back to where we came in only to find a large flour blob on a fence post that we had totally missed! As gentlemen we felt it only fair to blame Emma for putting it there after we had passed. We felt much better for that!

Ambling through the countryside, Cof informed me that Chuck is having a great time abroad. We would have chatted further had I not noticed Cloggs, overtly and without embarrassment, short-cutting deliberately. Despite our spluttered protestations she blew us a long-tongued mental rasberry and carried on shamelessly! Shortly after I managed a short lead on Centaur and smugly took a left turn at the main road, since we always go straight on at this point. Pasting down the road like Maurice Johnson after drinking a bucket of nandrolone I turned a corner and screeched to a halt, plimsolls smoking, at a bar 4. Not wishing to deprive the other FRB’s of the experience I loitered behind a hedge until Centaur and Iceman hove into view. "Bar four". I informed them airily and shot off back past them in case it turned nasty.

We eventually reached the dual carriageway and duly used the underpass to get to the other side, Cloggs getting her leg over (a gate) on the way. Zebedee and I took a route through an equine pasture while Shamcock and a small crowd of sycophants short-cutted. We all met up at an astounding scene. BoPeep and a ruddy farmer were verbally squaring up to each other; the farmer’s voice raised to a quavering falsetto as he berated BoPeep and the rest of us for frightening the animals and breaking a gate of his 3 years ago. BoPeep, meanwhile, was insisting (calmly, but with a hint of menace) that we always keep to footpaths. Since neither of ‘em seemed to be arguing about the same thing and a hint of violence was in the air Zebedee and I scarpered - keeping to the footpath - like animals frightened by Hashers.

Well done C5 who excelled in presenting the following :-

At the half-yearly AGM the four category winners were :-

As ever, many thanks to all who supplied and dispensed the beer and food.