R*n 643: Thruscross

A long r*n or a short one? Hard to tell really. We set off from the reservoir car park at half past ten and arrived at the On Inn not long after twelve. Short r*n then. But.....we had a twenty-minute walk from the hostel to the car park. Medium-length r*n perhaps? Also... it was an hour's walk from the pub back to the hostel. Bl**dy long r*n, definitely. You can't pull the wool over my eyes when it comes to the Trade Descriptions Act - I KNOW MY RIGHTS!

Over the weekend our ranks were swelled by the addition of a Hash Hound (Bonzo - not listed with the r*nners despite his valiant efforts), courtesy of Scouse Count, and a Hash Baby (Oscar), courtesy of Wednesday and Sax Maniac. I seem to recall that Hash Baby went missing at some point, with both parents and grandparents convinced that someone else must have him. Not to worry, happens all the time with babies - you put them down to open a gate, then forget to pick them up again. I often have the same problem with walking sticks, but that's a lot more serious of course; at least with babies you can always make a replacement, it's just the nine month wait for them to come on-stream that's a bit of a bind.

Anyhow, Hash Baby having been found, off we went. About ten minutes into the r*n, Baldbrick found a bank card on the ground at the side of the trail, belonging to our very own Darth Vader. Joy unbounded! Problem of how to pay for Baldbrick's and my dinner solved! Now, how to get DV to reveal her PIN before realising the card was missing.... Wait a minute - no need! It was a contactless card! Oh happy day!

At eleven o'clock (or thereabouts) we observed the customary two- minute Armistice Day silence. Most of us contemplated the awfulness of war and the bravery and sacrifice of those who had given their lives in the service of their country; Baldbrick and I thought of how we would manage if the cost of our dinners came to more than the £30 limit on the card.

After the r*n, or in the middle of it depending on your point of view, an excellent lunch at the Hopper Lane Hotel, followed by a Death March back to the hostel up a ruddy 1-in-5 hill. Then, an even more excellent home-cooked dinner courtesy of our Harriettes. Thank you, ladies, you did us proud! Finally, to round off the day, entertainment, the highlight of which was Madge's presentation of a play what he wrote, with Lurch and myself making our acting debut (and probably swan song as well).

Some had donned fancy dress for the occasion. Theme: cross-dressing. Now, is there anyone on the planet who did NOT think that Cyberseptic would wear his fishnet stockings yet again? Seriously, anyone? Lets face it, even if the theme had been "Ancient Rome" or "Star Wars", Cyber would have found a way of working his fishnets into the plot. The guy needs help.

Eventually, time to get a bit of kip before Lurch and Morticia's Sunday r*n. A short one surely. Lurch always sets short r*ns. So does Morticia. Problem is when you add them together...