Upon twitching my curtains and looking out on the world, I could already see that it was going to be a better than average October Sunday. The currant bun was already up in the sky and my happy day toy town newspaper smile was already stitched to my boat race. Quite contrary to tossing it off on a lazy Sunday afternoon, I was heading with Cum Yak Yak for one of those little villages outside of the Big L for a spot of hashing. The journey there was very pleasant and I found that if I turned Rammstein up loud enough, I could almost drown out the screaming 6, which was in its turn livening up the sleepy tufts and tussocks at the edges of the carrion-strewn country roads. CYY was oblivious to the soundtracks thanks to ipod direct to her ears. Our destination was slightly uncertain due to a combined lack of local knowledge and limited directions from the web page, but we finally turned right after the only bridge I could find and managed to park in a space big enough for 2 cars, but which gave me ample room to open the door fully without hitting either the next car or a pile of stones. Everyone else managed to park ok and some were somewhat confused to see me on the ground stretching out what in the past few days had been a knackered back. Today it was going to have to be better!

Established hare Wednesday had brought along Sax Maniac. Haring is apparently among a whole list of things that she is teaching him. They had set a wonderful run. There was plenty of up and down and round-a-bout, 2 beer stops and no fish hooks. What else does one need? I even had time to stop occasionally and admire the views. Despite mum and dad, Morticia and Lurch upholding a family tradition and turning up after the rest of us had started, I still copped for the scribing, as the On Sec is getting fed up of reports written in blood and delivered by bats!

Bubbles and Forever Blowing turned up in what looked to me a very ecological car, coloured woodland green and with double doors at the back for easy loading of rare vegetation for the garden and anything they might have poached. Upperskirt tipped out of her transport in typical vague fashion, but then excelled by managing not to get lost. I think that collecting subs usually drains her and takes away her directional awareness. Anyway CYY was instructed to follow someone reliable this time.

It was good to see White Noise and Of His Trolley back on trail and not on trial. They’d apparently been out in Columbia again recently gun-running and drug dealing. Expect to see your weekend cocaine bill become more affordable soon!

Highway was there again with Lay-by somewhere in the background. I think that she is working undercover, because she never gets a run credit. Maybe she is on the trail of the other 2 miscreants.

Bitter and Twisted had apparently missed a few runs, but were back with venom. Twisted spent most of her time way out in front, checking and shouting, while t’other half set a steady pace mid-pack on lens’n’shutter duty.

Baldbrick sadly allowed himself to slip back into size-ism again, while Sir Tom Tom was his usual correct self, making sure that we’d all completed our modules.

We all got detention down at the Fleece and the hot topic was the upcoming 10th birthday celebrations, which will hopefully bring back some old hashers for much LVH3 revelry and lantern swinging.

I must remember to tell Slackbladder, Baldcock, P-dough, Muffdiver…
I must remember to tell Slackbladder, Baldcock, P-dough, Muffdiver…
I must remember to tell Slackbladder, Baldcock, P-dough, Muffdiver…
I must remember to tell Slackbladder, Baldcock, P-dough, Muffdiver…
I must remember to tell Slackbladder, Baldcock, P-dough, Muffdiver…
I must remember to tell Slackbladder, Baldcock, P-dough, Muffdiver…
I must remember to tell Slackbladder, Baldcock, P-dough, Muffdiver…
I must remember to tell Slackbladder, Baldcock, P-dough, Muffdiver…
I must remember to tell Slackbladder, Baldcock, P-dough, Muffdiver…
I must remember to tell Slackbladder, Baldcock, P-dough, Muffdiver…
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