We were all really looking forward to this one. It was quite a while since we’d seen ol’ Slackbladder, and we were eager to renew old acquaintances. Mind you, his last attempt at haring wasn’t what you might call 100% successful – lovely trail, but when we went to the alleged “on inn” afterwards, we found it not only deserted, but actually padlocked! Fortunately, no one died of hunger, as we were able to relocate to a perfectly acceptable hostelry (I think it was the Duke Of Cumberland) where we ordered our food with literally minutes to spare. So, tonight was a chance for Slackbladder to redeem himself, wipe the slate clean so to speak, and organise some really spectacular nosh for us.

An impressive turnout for a winter full-mooner – fifteen hounds, or about double the average. It was nice, too, to see a few more lapsed hashers in attendance – Madge, Tarty Totty and Loose Elastic, plus a rare visit from Bamboo. We were so looking forward to a really slap-up meal afterwards, that most of us had starved ourselves for several days beforehand. In the absence of the GM, I did the honours in the circle before the r*n, and just before the off I asked the hare, in all innocence, if the pub (The Rifleman’s Arms) needed to know how many of us would be eating later. Cue quizzical expression from Slacky. “Eating?” he said. Obviously a foreigner with a limited command of English. While I struggled to find an alternative locution for the ingestion of nourishing comestibles, he added: “No one said anything to me about eating”. Oh oh.......

Fearing a lingering death from starvation, there was a mad and most unseemly dash for the few remaining stale custard creams in the bucket, but eventually I was able to restore order, and off we went. Slackbladder had chosen an interesting trail, which seemed to take in plenty of green and pleasant areas while remaining within the confines of Kendal. There were lots of fishhooks, which was a bit of a relief as we wimps were in short supply, and this tactic made sure we did not get left behind. At about an hour and ten minutes, it was just the right length.

Not many down-downs from the RA, considering the size of the turnout and the corresponding statistical probability of a high rate of offending. Maybe the poor chap couldn’t see all the crimes being committed because it was dark. Either that, or we were all behaving impeccably.....

Finally, into the foodless on inn. Bet they’ve never sold as many bags of crisps as they did tonight. That aside, it was a good pub, busy but with a great atmosphere and a respectable choice of ales – so much so that we probably stayed there longer than if we’d had a meal there! For those who were that way inclined, there was a folk group performing in one section of the pub, but the general layout of the place meant that other drinkers were not inconvenienced. Thanks for a good one, Slackbladder, now I must be off home for a sausage butty......

On on,

STT