We arrived at the camp site to find FullMember - who forgot his tent last year - arrived with a house-sized effort this year - complete with axminster carpet and Welsh dresser.

We made the mistake of making Dormouse & Speedbump hares for the 'Friday night short run to the pub'.

The weather was damp, steady fine rain - the type which soaks one through. The run went conciderably uphill, across an open moor which the hares said they'd laid trail on but we don't believe them. If they weren't there I'm sure we'd still be looking for trail today. Up a scree slope we went - to the top of the hill, nearly into the next valley. The time was getting on and we could just see the pub through the mist - a long decent saw the back markers arrive at the Newfield Inn two minutes before they stopped serving food. The hares say this was timed to perfection - I just wonder what would've happened to them if it'd taken us just three minutes more to complete the run.

After scrummy food - Upperskirt & I retired to the bunkhouse to get an early night in order to be well rested for haring the following morning (that could also be interpreted as leaving to watch Big Brother), others stayed in the pub to talk about adult and sensible topics I assume.