In addition to the above, we were pleased to welcome the following guest r*nners: Hand Job (NH3), Boghopper (SH4), Chunderwoman (SH4) and Give Her One (SH4), making a total of 24 hounds.

I hadn’t been to Allendale Town since New Years Eve 1965 when I witnessed the beating of the bounds with flaming torches and kissed all the girls at midnight, so I was only too keen to go back and see if the girls were still kissable.

Although a keen youth hosteller in my youth I had never stayed at Ninebanks, always passing it at high speed on my way to more exciting territory further west.

So I eagerly rose early on a very doubtful morning with showers and gales forecast and drove from my new home in the far west to familiar territory further east. After all I used to play in the River Allen when I was 3 years old and it probably hadn’t changed much since – nor have I, in mind anyway.

Turning off the familiar drag, I encountered a herd of cows sheltering from the gales while eating tarmac and being surprisingly reluctant to give way to my new silent car.

Half a mile later I encountered a herd of Hashers who were even more stupid, blocking the road and blowing their horns. I knew I was in the right place.

At precisely 11am we were all gathered on Ninebanks Bridge for an A to B run to a secret destination, but since we had all booked lunch at the Allendale Inn there was not much secret about it.

We set off up a tarmac lane, so I opted out and got a lift in a car even quieter than mine brought along by the hare as a bit of one-up-man-ship.

Emerging at the edge of the moor there was a force 8 gale blowing which made hashing a bit difficult but the hares had arranged it conveniently to blow us from behind all the way from A to B. Thus we all finished the run in double quick time.

Pressing on upwards through shiggy and bog we finally reached a road and followed it downwards then crossed and passed some ancient mining chimneys from Prehistoric lead mines which were in remarkably good nick.

At the foot of the hill a long anticipated beer stop welcomed us, then we pressed on towards Allendale Town by a circuitous route. Some went even further and decided to visit Catton on the way, thinking at might be Caton in disguise!

The final stretch along the river bank was resplendent with autumn colours and the gale dropped and the sun came out to welcome us to the town of kissable girls.

Well done hares for an excellent run and a good pub meal afterwards. Well done for arranging the gale to blow us all the way and for the amazing colours on every tree.

What happed in the Youth Hostel I have no idea as a rushed home afterwards.