Run 165 began with a car shared ride to the world famous village of Garrigill, named after Cyberseptic, just 4 miles south of Alston, where we regrouped around the George & Dragon pub.

Since it wasn't open yet a circle was held on a very wet village green to herald the start of run 165, which would have gone all the way to the top of Cross Fell if we had been able to see it through the blizzard. It was more a skating contest than a run as running shoes perform badly on wet grass covered with fresh snow. The sun tried to fight through the clouds but only emerged in the afternoon, when the run was over and we were drying off in the pub. The scenery couldn't have been better. The run began by climbing a hillside out of Garrigill, across fields and down through a wood where we disturbed numerous pheasants before sliding down a steep slope onto a bridge over a rocky gorge carrying the South Tyne. While waiting at a gather, we were passed by a group of farmers and gamekeepers with guns out looking for pheasants! They didn't find any and were seen later in the day taking aim at Hashers from distant hillsides because their bag did not meet expectations!

Wimps followed the river upstream while Rambos headed for the open fellside but cut left along a bleak road and eventually dived into the valley to rejoin the Wimps.

On the other side of the valley we crossed numerous slippery ice covered stiles and then dropped down to the river again, negotiating a tight rocky tunnel, potholing style, that led into a valley where the river fell over a huge undercut cliff to provide a spectacular waterfall. This was the most remote and spectacular beer-stop of the year.

How the hares got the beer to the bottom of the waterfall we don't know. Hashers gathered behind the waterfall to enjoy the view through the falls, before continuing the run.

The next steep rise out of the river valley was topped by a fish-hook that gave some welcome additional exercise to the front-runners. Then we continued past more farmhouses and more ice-covered stiles until we saw the welcome views of Garrigill and its pub in the distance.

Without waiting for a circle we dived into the George and Dragon where we stood in front of a roaring log fire steaming and dripping until our pre-ordered lunches were ready. The dining room was rather frigid but was warmed by the excitement of the waitress who had great fun announcing the orders by Hash Name - a new experience in Garrigill.

Suitably sustained, dried fed and watered, we emerged to the mid afternoon sun and some hashers were so energetic that they decided to walk the 4 miles home to Alston. Others weren't so rash and rushed back by car to enjoy the fleshpots of the local shops.

The circle was deferred until 6pm by which time we were arrayed in our Little Black Dresses - some littler and blacker than others. Numerous down downs were given and many of the dresses were taken down too. After dinner some gluttons for punishment went to the Cumberland Arms in their little black dresses, while others stayed in the hostel and quaffed single malts to celebrate St Andrews Day. A veil should be drawn over the rest of the evening!