Snowdrops & A Snowstorm.

Everyone loves a good mystery, and Lurch and Morticia can usually be relied on to dish up a few on their invariably enjoyable outings as hares. Do you add together the mileages quoted by L&M to arrive at the total length of the trail, or is one figure subsumed within the other? In mathematical parlance, is it A for the Rambos, A-B for the Wimps (where A is the Lurch figure, B the Morticia figure)? Or B for the Wimps and A+B for the Rambos? A cup B or possibly A cap B? Do A and B join up in the middle? Will hare B even remember where the trail goes? The people deserve answers to these questions.

Today we had an extra mystery - where's Soapy? Having expressed the intention of r*nning on WhatsApp, Wears The Soap was a no-show. Had he gone straight to the on inn by mistake? Did he think it was Bentham and not Beetham? Had the old boy got lost? Was he too tight-fisted to pay £2 on the car park? Did he get confused and respond to the wrong poll on WhatsApp? Octogenarian brain-fogging is not uncommon. I'm sure all will be revealed at his next outing when he produces his sick note from matron.

A varied and most scenic trail followed, punctuated by multiple banks of snowdrops and a curious boot-clogging mud of a consistency you feel would be useful for bricklayers, if it ever dried. We were a little concerned for the safety of First Class Stomp on the limestone pavement; her record on this type of terrain is not good. Thankfully on this occasion she managed to avoid crippling herself.

Back to the car park, and we were amazed to see it had been snowing in our absence, with masses of the white stuff drifting in places. It subsequently came to light that Lurch had attempted to drive off with his flour containers still on the roof of his car. You all know the contempt in which I hold those who waste flour, and I was of course totally disgusted.

Down-downs followed, with Bedtime Stories and Spare Rib named and shamed for not putting their £2 in the car park honesty box. They were duly chastised in the time-honoured way, as we abhor dishonesty in our largely law-abiding group and feel we must be seen to discourage criminality in our ranks. Little did BS and SR realise that the car park was monitored by multiple surveillance cameras incorporating facial recognition technology, so I'm pretty sure they will be banned from every parking facility in the country.

Onwards to the Wheatsheaf, and a convivial lunch in a separate room to isolate us from normal people. This appears to be becoming the norm these days. Our reputation as boisterous hard-drinking hell-raisers obviously precedes us.

Thanks L&M. It did not go unnoticed that you got there on time today. Perhaps you should consider haring every r*n?