Well, the day didn't get off to the best of starts. Standing by the window of my cosy centrally-heated bedroom, contemplating the ongoing devastation wreaked by Storm Dennis (or whatever that weekend's storm was called - I lose track, there are so many of them), staring at the rain-lashed road through a protective double layer of glass, wondering why the house next door was still unsold, suddenly - there was the answer! Some p*ll*ck, unidentifiable on account of the fact that he was swathed in waterproof garments from head to toe, was going round defacing trees by putting whopping great chalk arrows all over them! What's more, he was fouling the footpaths with some piles of white powder - possibly a deadly nerve agent of some kind. Bl**dy antisocial yob, I thought, no wonder house prices are plummeting in the neighbourhood!

Never mind, a good ol' hash would surely cheer me up. I had to walk the full hundred yards to the meeting point, having just missed the bus - serves me right for sleeping in. Good turnout - thankfully the monsoon had abated by that point. Baldbrick seemed to have done most of the trail-setting, presumably because Upperskirt still struggles to find her way around the village. There would be a pub beer stop, we were informed. Oh no, I thought, not the Gregson again! I needn't have worried - we took our refreshment nearer to home at the Black Bull, as guests of Hash Cash! As Homer Simpson once put it, "free - my favourite price". What's more, that was on top of a standard twin buckets beer stop - what bliss!

At the aforementioned bucket break, we were surprised to see Fiddler approaching from entirely the wrong direction. We were not surprised to see Cyber doing the same, it's becoming a bit of a hash tradition. "There are no rules in hashing", that's his mantra. He's a free spirit, and to hell with all that "let's follow the trail" orthodoxy. That's right, mate, you make up your own trail if you want, and b*gger convention.

Back at the Station, and TWO namings! Welcome to the fold, Glassy Lady and Racey Miss! Fortunately, LVH3 is no longer the preserve of the Baby Boomers - we now boast a healthy complement of Generation X'ers and Millennials, and it was nice to see our two Alphas (Belle and Cotside Manner) braving the elements too. Well, someone's got to help us with our zimmer frames when we're old and past it.