Well now. Hash 849 began in the local dogging car park as those in the know pointed out to us. Indeed, P and P admitted to having regularly gone dogging in the past (however, this particular dogging seemed to involve an actual dog and dog walks rather than anything more salacious)

At 11 am prompt, Circle began with a respectful two minute silence to mark Remembrance Day.

The hares then apologised for having to change the route at the beginning of the hash because of a resolute and impenetrable shieldwall of cows in first field. More of cows later…

So explanations of how to avoid the immovable bovine obstacles were given. These fell on the deaf ears of our Rambo contingent who happily ran off in the wrong direction.

Order eventually restored, the r*n proceeded into the desolate environs of Pilling. Always a back of beyondsville , the ever increasing rain made this seem an even more forgotten spot. We wove along agricultural tracks beside drainage ditches and between some begrimed and derelict looking farm buildings. Rambos split off from Wimps making our hounds even more vulnerable to whatever brigands and wild animals awaited them in the marshes.

Luckily however the persisting rain meant that all brigands and wild animals were safely and sensibly ensconced in their respective dens/ barns and we all survived.

But then, this somewhat slow Rambo came across a Grand Milling About of hashers. We were lost! Rambos and Wimps both in a confluence of confusion. Not only that but the field of lost trail included a bottomless slurry of shiggy - or more accurately, seemingly pure cow shit! Photos were taken of brave young hashers following their parents totally unnecessarily through pools of the stuff! Character building for sure and great story for Show and Tell on Monday! I think everyone negotiated the route- or maybe in years to come some archeoanthropologist will exhume a Pilling man….

Eventually the sorry looking and **** covered crew found trail again . On on to the BS where the hares were berated for extreme shigginess.

Thereafter we were promised wet grass to ameliorate the shoe situation. Plenty of muddy and boggy fields ensued before finally reaching the bleak and rainswept shore dyke. Mention must be made of some poor soul who obviously didn’t want to muddy their trainers and abandoned them beside the footpath to stride perilously barefoot into the moss. ( It may of course have been one of the legendary web footed inhabitants of nearby Scronkey.)

Back home we circled under umbrellas. Bitter was called for a down down for both attending hash circle in brand new trainers and attempting to bribe RA with jelly babies to let her off the obligatory beer from the shoe punishment. Our young people rather than being lauded for brave and stalwart behaviour in the face of Cold, Wetness and Extreme shigginess were given down downs for short cutting. That’s the way to make ‘em strong!!

All in all a very enjoyable way of spending a wet grey Sunday. Thanks hares!