This was a brilliant weekend, many thanks to Cyberseptic and Antiseptic for organising it.

The hostel was cosy, the company congenial, the runs superb and the food excellent. I have a feeling that this will become an annual event.

Run 88 from The Black Cock Inn at Falstone, took us up a long gradual hill, following a stream and into wilderness. We passed a single dwelling, which was surrounded by all sorts of disintegrating vehicles, reminiscent of a Welsh farm.

We continued up and up and up and eventually the track took us into a forest where the trail divided into Wimps and Rambos. The Wimps trail followed the track and gradually the trees grew taller and the trail became darker and darker and the air was so still that you could hear a heart beat, but who's heart beat?

Eventually we could see a glimmer of light at the end of this tunnel and as the trail opened into scrubland a view of Kielder Reservoir appeared on our left with a couple of ghostly galleons sailing in the mist.

We continued on into another patch of forest and along various winding trails, until we reached a stony outcrop above Kielder where the rest of the hash were waiting.

Reassembled, we set off with Kielder on our right, following the indented shoreline until we turned off left, then right, onto a road. This led us through a car park where we had optimistically expected to find refreshments and form a circle, but no. There in the distance at the far side of the dam was the Septics distinctive red car. The FRB's were off like lightening, their goal in sight, but on reaching it there was a cruel twist to this run, the Septics bowing to their wicked side, turned the car round and drove the 1km back across the dam to the car park which we had just recently left and set up the drinks and formed the circle.

Down downs were given to the following;

• Wendy, a visitor, for being a wanker and using her mobile phone on the run and in the circle.
• Morticia, for fouling the trail. {I took the trouble to go off trail and squat at the edge of impenetrable forest. What else is a girl to do?}. Urine is such a tell tale.
• Diane, visitor, for not noticing the view. {Personally I think she had been entranced by Pixies on her run through the forest.}. It really did have a magical aura to it, honestly it did.
• Paul, a visitor, who claims to be Wendy's partner and live in the flat above her, for causing domestic strife. This relates to Wendy's use of her mobile phone. It's a long story.
• The hares for an excellent run with a devious twist.
• The virgins, Sally, Doreen, Diane, Natalie, Rachel, Wendy and Paul, for being virgins.

On Saturday evening we had a wine tasting session. This was interesting, because the cheapest wine, called Eastenders available somewhere at £1.49 a bottle and kindly donated by Urine { he'd passed it himself I'm sure}, was described as industrial in taste.

The most expensive bottle a Rioja, bought at Sainsburys for £10.99, received universal approval and there was a good range around the £5 mark which were extremely quaffable and indeed, one brought by Paul and Wendy at £4 a bottle which we would all be happy to have a crate of.

Urine's excuse was that this was the last bottle of a batch he'd bought that had tasted pleasant when young and fresh and this one had gone beyond its best. Any excuse, just splash out on a decent bottle next time urine or one that has been 'passed ' by someone else.