Having finally pinned down the two reluctant Hares to fix a location, there was a last minute change in venue to preserve Keeled’s Karrots etc. for posterity. The Kanine Ban, now that the GM is a registered dog owner (formal recognition from Towed Under is not an easy thing to achieve), meant that the hash refused the offer of accommodation and opted for an independent site between the Kottage and the main road. Anyway, lots of Happy Hashers gathered for the 15.00 start, with Tibetgal making a last minute appearance looking for a real man to go and lift Itchy Balls’ chariot out of the ditch in which he’d carefully parked it. Sadly all the real men were busy and she had to make do with Shrivelled who single handedly lifted the car, still containing Mr. and Mrs. Itchy, spun it round on his little finger and set it back down on the road (at least that’s what he claimed).

During this interlude the Hares continued their briefing, announcing an uncertain number of checks with holding checks, false trails and river crossings as mandatory. First paper was up a lane off to the south but soon we were heading east over the main road and then south again. Five years ago this would all have been pleasant countryside but, since the Keeleds moved out there, it has become the new desirable suburb, full of estates and asphalt roads. Anyhow, checks one and two offered little in the way of a serious challenge to those intrepid Antipodeans Shrivelled and Flair Pair who seemed to be permanently out in front for the whole run.

Holding Check 3 was soon reached (although Shrivelled missed it and had to be called back by Grumblewald) at a Temple that I can never remember the name of (Bal Kumari - the ever knowledgeable GM) but is always a holding check. From here the trail headed through the temple and out the other side. Crumblewald and Towed decided that it shouldn’t have done and set off down into the valley. When the “on-on” was heard from the west, Grumblebum assured Towed that it was possible to cut through and join the pack. After a bit of gripping climbing up a landslide topped off by a small cliff, Towed managed to escape the valley but sadly that was the last anyone saw of Grumblestiltskin until the On-In. The trail then meandered through villages and valleys on unfamiliar trails, heading ever southwards until the three hills north of Godavari Resort hove into sight at Holding Check eight. When we continued to head south from the Holding Check, suspicions that this could be an A to B started to become firmer and at last, after a few false attempts to take us up the hills, a bus was reached. At one hour twenty minutes or so, something of a record short run for the two Hares.

Beer was supped, and softies for a few, before everyone except Grimblewold (is this a new brand of Danish Blue cheese? - GM) had arrived and we all clambered on board the bus and headed off back to the On-In (nobody noticing a frantically waving Grombleweed staggering through the dusty slipstream).

OR SO WE THOUGHT ……

About 500 metres down the road the bus ground to a halt and a smug-looking Keeled opened the doors to reveal a check beside the road. “Check it Out” he cried and so off we went again, on stiffened limbs and beer-full bellies. The most notable thing on the first section was how Flare Pear managed to run on narrow trails whilst carrying on a sensible phone conversation. The trail headed pretty well straight home, although a variety of routes were taken by the various FRBs.

All were soon home, cursing the Hares in a wide variety of languages for their devious practices. Since many of the pack are IMPORTANT PEOPLE the circle had to be called to order double quick to allow them all to rush off to the UN Head’s birthing party or some such celebration. So the GM shouted a bit as usual, eventually sorted out the remaining pack from the local spectators and called the Hares into the circle. Everyone was too knackered to make much comment so the Master swiftly gave them the down-down forgetting completely to award a score. Net result was therefore a highly deserving nil points, as they say for the Danish entry in Eurovision. The GM had also managed to forget that Rani was a Hare so they all had to do it again.

There is not much else to report. Virgin Paul was introduced – he is here on holiday and has the handicap of being closely related to Loverboy – and the other virgin had vanished; there may or may not have been returnees (Viaggro was certainly there) and newcomers, The GM and a couple of others (Sock Sucker and the nice Danish lady who brought Viaggro) were given down-downs for crashing, and that was about it.

The only contest for the Hashit was which of the devious Hares should receive it. In fairly quick time it was given to Fast Forward, but what had the GM done with the accompanying headgear? As usual he blamed it all on Mrs Rotter, who is the only person I know who can make a shrug into a swearword! Doubtless the photo will reveal what was used as a substitute.

Thanks to Mrs Rotter and Rani for the hash catering and to the devious Hares for an excellent run.