StickyDicky Gulab Ja Moon Hashgate Motormouth Cap’n Haystax Rawhide Spex Jackie Karen Phil Khazi Lynda Amanda Mike Foghorn Chopstix Baldrick Scrumper Puddleduck HoneyAnt 2Bob BoPeep Steamer GBH Iceman Buffalo PonyExpress Humper Spot Emma BGB Mr. Blobby Greenfly ‘Mother of Little Einstein’ (blimey!) FannySniffer (hope I got that wrong!) Dumper The Cuddles famille C5 Eth Salome ClothBalls Daniel Tweenie Richard(see Down Downs) Cheating Catherine Old Fart David Jonathon Julia Circle Florence TT2 Zebedee Whinge Lonely Mr. Mainwaring Squelchy

Much to the delight and amusement of the locals, out for a quiet pint and a chat, a goodly gathering of strangely garbed people filled the car park with cars and bodies. Virgin Hasher Mike, Amanda’s neighbour, gazed around with a bemused air, especially when StickDicky appeared, bulbous horn in hand, and gave it a few honks to blow the dust out. You can imagine his thoughts: "What the hell have I let myself in for?!" And "Come near me with that thing and I’ll flatten you!"

The thing is with Sticky, he has such an open and apparently honest face. You cannot imagine an evil thought crossing his mind. Two minutes into the trail convinced us otherwise. At least the water was not too deep….

C5 did the honours at the Gather Round since Mr. Mainwaring was still on the West Country Express, shoehorning himself into the straining lycra rather like fitting a thick rubber band over a semi-inflated balloon. The new name that attracted our attention (apart from ClothBalls – no, I didn’t ask) was ‘Mother of Little Einstein’. This is a name and a half and presumably the lady in question is the mother of a child with a bristly moustache and an even bristlier haircut! Well all this didn’t take long and we ‘On Out’ed down the lane with a spring in our step and whistling a gay (original meaning, not a Communards song) tune. It didn’t last long – a ford appeared! The bar, of course, was at the start of the bridge and, of course, Cheating and GBH were at the bar. No change there, then. They formed a (semi) human chain to stop any sinners from using the bridge – even myself who was wearing absolutely pristine running shoes. I felt this a little unfair. They were jolly clean. However, before I could bribe Motormouth to carry me across (his name is Christopher after all) the little fellow slipped through a gap between the legs of GBH and Cheating and left me to mince through, thoroughly soaking aforementioned trainers. Others dithered at the edges or strode through with a (wo)manly air. I was reminded of the last bit of shooting we did for ‘Rosie and Jim’. This also took place in a ford and various bodies were flunkeying and toadying around the director and cameraman, who were setting up the shot. The assistant director had wandered into the thigh-deep water wearing long waders and the smug air of a man in charge – after all, he was the guy who got to shout "Action!". But his smile became a little glacial as he waded out of the ford to be greeted with catcalls and hoots of laughter by the rigging crew who had seen the spurts of water jetting from the sides of the partially perished waders.

Sticky then buggered us up completely with a field designed to break ankles. Clumps and ridges and holes puckered its surface. It was like running over a huge grassy cheese grater. Scrumper, Spot and Whinge (when he caught up) all stumbled. Motormouth nearly came a purler. Mr. Blobby grimaced. TT2 was noticed standing stock still with straight legs crossed and leaning forward in a precarious manner. Either he had tweaked a calf muscle or a lens had popped out. There was complete confusion at this point since a bar-something was up the road from a check. People were coming back from there; Baldrick and I were running back from where we (sort of) should have been; Greenfly had naffed off somewhere and the rest milled, aimlessly. Eventually, the sneaky Sticky 'Horned' us on the right trail and as I followed Humper over a little bridge her lovely dog, Heidi, fell/dived into the mud below with a loud ‘Splot!’ Marvellous to watch it was, as the crestfallen creature slipped lithely out of the shiggy trying to appear nonchalent. Poor thing.

Well, we split a little while after this on the long and the short. We long trailers headed for the woods and one of Sticky’s countrywide cruises. You know the sort of thing. Run for many miles through strange countryside and end up feeling knackered.

Well, despite Greenfly, Old Fart and I getting caught out on an alleged bar-11 (it was semi-rubbed out!) we all got to the regroup by various means. Greenfly, Mike and I by losing the plot and arriving by a reverse false trail. Here, a variety of six-legged insects with no fathers proceeded to tuck in with relish at the salty, damp skin feast presented to them by most of the Hash. Except for those clever people like Scrumper, Whinge and Lynda who were wearing leggings. The rest of us were slapping exposed parts like semi-naked Bavarian folk dancers unti we all breezed off again, leaving the bloated mosquitos lying about on their backs, burping.

RA C5 officiated and presented the following :-