Quaint hamlets, sunlit pastures, refreshing aromatic breeze relieving the hot sun - that's the dream. Reality: raw rain-drenched streets of a modern estate, and lowering clouds. But we hashers love it here in Kendal, wouldn't have it any other way.

Hares must have had a good spring cos there were lots of 'em - 3 generations in fact. Madge & Syd, Loose Elastic and Tarty Totty, and a couple of leverets, Smartie and Jelly Tot.

The Rambos got a completely different run to the Wimps and we split fairly early on, so I haven't a clue where they went. We trotted along the old canal line (you would never know other than it's level) heading towards the centre of Kendal before crossing the river Kent and following its banks for several miles towards the ocean. Tarty Totty was on his second or third run of the day and making sure we didn't wimp out of our pathetic efforts.

Fortunately the rain mainly stopped so we ended up only mildly wet. I think the beer stop kept moving in much the same was as a carrot dangling on a stick in front of a donkey, 'cos it was at Natland, 3/4 of the way round before we caught up with it after a brief glimpse 3 kilometres before-hand.

A traditionally long route from these hares as we've come to expect, but a good leg stretch to get those endorphins working and blow away the autumn blues. Thank-you hares.

NB Madge and Sid probably do live the dream for half the year. May be Portugal has its charms too.