R*n 796: Wennington

Greetings, readaholics! STT here, doing his duty to the motherland as keeper of the Hash Pen. Thought I'd better get in quick with today's magnum opus, as I could see that Dormouse really really wanted to do this write-up, so I decided to get it done before 2036 and beat him to it.

Where to start? Well, we all know that co-hare Upperskirt has a tendency to lose the trail from time to time. Today, though, she surpassed herself by managing to lose the entire village of Wennington. Thankfully, Belle and I were there to set her straight, otherwise she'd still be cruising along the A683 looking for the on-off. Memo to Baldbrick: next time, mark the trail all the way from Sycamore Road.

Finally arriving at Wennington Station after our mystery tour around North Lancashire, we hit another snag: due to a combination of covid, brexit, and Vladimir Putin, construction work had not yet started on Baldbrick's planned multi-storey car park, so double-, triple-, and even quadruple-parking were the order of the day. Good job Darth Vader wasn't in attendance, let me tell you. The situation was exacerbated by the stellar turnout, hashers no doubt drawn to the event by the prospect of being able to sample Twisted's fruits, which many thought was a euphemism for something else.

On on to the circle, and the LVH3 tradition of the Hare giving unconvincing excuses for the lack of a trail. Don't know why they bother - why not just admit they couldn't be arsed getting out of bed? Baldbrick, however, went one better by paying a member of the public to drive up to us and confess to obliterating the markings. Apparently, she saw Baldbrick at work and thought he looked a bit shifty. Understandable, I suppose.

The trail? An interesting mix of thistles, wonky stiles, and Rambo splits which didn't actually lead anywhere. My guess is that Baldbrick, with his known aversion to rambo-ing, started having panic attacks and hyperventilating, and had to turn back. Occasionally, he was forced to send us along lanes, having run out of thistles.

Finally, the closing circle, with the RA fitting up innocent hashers on trumped-up charges as per usual, followed by good, cheap food, and even cheaper drink, at the On Inn. Baldbrick even laid on a copious supply of wasps in the beer garden, to finish off those who had not succumbed to the thistles.

As always, an enjoyable day's outing with BB and US. Thanks guys. Now, time to go round and dig up all those thistles you planted the day before.

On on!

PS Did I mention there were thistles?