R*n 476: Hest Bank

Well, here it is.  Let's see how well I can perform in my first-ever write up.

It turned out to be a perfect day weather-wise for a r*n from Hest Bank, nice and overcast with a little bit of sun through the clouds.  I think I felt one single raindrop, so perhaps it wasn't wet enough for some of the gang, but it surely was welcome for visitor Bushy Brows and Virgins Kate M, Sarah, and Rob.

I must speak, for the most part, on the experience in the pack of Rambos, as the split came early on.  We got off on more or less the right foot, following a nice flat path along the canal and then some direct routes through fields with just the right amount of shiggy and puddles that would make it easy for our blisters to start early on.  We came out onto the waterfront, with a lovely view of the Lakes across the Bay.  Who knew such a beautiful place could be the beginning of our troubles?

The path along the beach was more or less obvious, as going out into the water didn't seem likely.  How merrily we ran along, looking blissfully at the view and once in a while being confident in our direction by a blob of flour glimpsed on a rock in passing (or as signalled by those behind me.  Perhaps it was only me who wasn't paying attention?)  In any event, Speedbump and I got a little bit ahead of the gang and decided that we needed an impromptu fishhook.  Anyone who says we merely lost the flour trail clearly didn't understand our methods.  We just wanted to keep the gang together for the full-on workout that followed as we jumped from hillock to beachy hillock in order to avoid the water and broken ankles.

Once off the beach, I saw a group of people round a car in a carpark and may have yelled something about the beerstop being just ahead.  Hopes were high, but reality kept us down as it turned out to be some walkers.  On on along the promenade we went...continually thinking we saw the beer stop...on and on...until we realized no one had seen any flour in ages.  Another impromptu fishhook, I assure you.  Back we went along the prom, crossing the road and entering the park, where we were sure there would be a beerstop.  Again hopes were high when Twisted heard Baldbrick's horn with the Wimps, but again these hopes were smashed when we seemed to be going away from the horn.  Another impromptu fishhook to where she had heard it.  The childrens' mini-train horn, of course!  Never sure if we were quite on track, we managed to stay on the flour and find our way up up up to the beerstop on a hill with a lovely view.

The second part of the journey went slightly better.  I don't think we managed to get lost once!  (I mean, we didn't need to fishhook...)  Whether on path or on road, there were plenty of juicy blackberries to nibble on, the canal was easy to follow (although apparently not for Virgin Kate M, who went the wrong way upon entering), and the lactic acid held out long enough to get back to the On Inn and beer bucket.  Only here did I learn that Virgin Rob had almost instantly lost his soles but not his soul as he toughed it out in his brand new barefoot running shoes for the rest of the hash.  I complain in jest, but all-in-all it was a long but pleasant Sunday r*n.