On a braw bricht, moolicht nicht we aw met a’ Marybank for yon Trail laid oot by yon speedy wee lassie, Forever Blowing.

Och a canny dae ony mair in Scots……

Reluctantly we left the safety of the garden and set off along the road in search of pink flour and chalk or was it pink chalk and flour, cutting through fields to the familiarity of the cycle way. The first R/W split took the Rambos briefly along the river, back to the cycle way to a check point. Exhibitionist sprinted off in the direction of the Station closely followed by Lurch, who briefly disappeared into Custard Cul de Sac. Large Package headed to the road. The rest of the pack waited, and waited, and waited and waited. But no cries of “On On”. Eventually Rocker Feller and Glassy Lady decided to investigate the track to the farm, but it was private, wasn’t it? And then a longed for cry was heard. But where was everyone? Vanished! The route WAS through the Custard houses, but hadn’t Lurch checked that right at the start…….??

On we continued along paths choked with nettles to a kissing gate and onto the road. Rocker Fella spotted the arrow pointing left and the hounds were off, but what had happened to the leaders of the pack, had they gone a different route? Soon we were bounding across open fields, and impressed that the hare had used Miracle Grow to create a green path across the yellowed fields. Up and up we climbed to the Windmills, or no, hang on Glassy Lady, that’s the wrong way…….we cut across to Annas Ghyll down, down, down through more fields, past big ‘dugs’ and back to the On Inn.

The Hares ensured the barbecues were heating up. Sausages, burgers and great lumps of steak were soon sizzling over the heat, veggie options too, along with delicious salads, washed down with gallons of beer, G&Ts and other curious concoctions.

Next, the chocolate roulade, lovingly created by Forever Blowing, was paraded out only to be paraded back inside…….The circle was to take place before dessert.

Bubbles stepped up as MD and demanded that everyone who had at least 30 runs under their belt had to ‘Dob In’ a fellow hasher. Simultaneously he was trying to get a flame from the fire pit but failing, passed the MD role to Lurch, but not before First Class Stomp was forced to name Fiddler on the Hoof as a deviant from the route. And so it went on as one after another hound snitched on their fellow hashers. The crimes grew more heinous: Morticia nipping home to collect sausages; Baldbrick popping home to collect a Car; White Noise & Cybersceptic making the route up as they went along and then calm descended as Hash Cash was thanked for her good works and Baldbrick received his new 600 Run LVH3 Sweatshirt and thanked for his tender care of the beer bucket.

Meanwhile there had been complaints about the chilly weather with the nights drawing in and so fleeces, trousers and hats were soon being worn. But we did at least see the moon. A huge big luminescent moon cracked nicely down the middle glowing expansively above Baldbrick’s underpants! An image never to be forgotten.

Luckily to help sooth our eyes not one, but two desserts reappeared and so this excellent night came to a close, although how did Baldbrick get home? On two feet, one car or by the light of the silvery moon…….

Thank you Forever Blowing and Bubbles for your most excellent hospitality.