R*n 508: Skipton

Dear Grant and Tricia,

I am writing to express my personal thanks to the both of you, and all your
colleagues in the Lune Valley Hash House Harriers for a wonderful
emotionally charged weekend of well-remembered family day hash runs, and
just general rattling good Hashing.
True, the last two W&Ws bringing up the rear on the Sunday "run" (how I wish
...) - me and Don Patterson - not to name names you understand, having
ignored Cuntry Boy Baker's infallible Hashing credentials, and who sensibly
cut back to the pub - strove (that word will do) onwards towards the
frequently marked promise of a "beer stop". Over styles - some actually
marked "wobbly" in consideration of the gathering antiquity of the proud
back-"runners", following copious flour markings on equally generous
cow-pats in an idyllic setting of a green and pleasant land. "What's that
line of white dots snaking upwards to the top of that hill?" "Must be sheep.
Can't be owt else daft enough in this heat."
Eventually the intrepid pair passed through a gate marked "beer". And there
it was. Gone. Buckets, bottles, cans, people...., all gone. The oasis in the
green desert was just another mirage.
But, happily, ON ON - along traffic free country lanes, following "broken
ring markings", through a narrow footpath festooned with stinging nettles
passing a campsite where two homely ladies looked at the two strange
physical specimens in "shrunk-in-the-wash" athletic gear and kindly advised
that "the young ones passed by some time ago, dear(!)", adding a
conversational pertinent question, "Is this a charity walk?"
Answers on a postcard, please.
On reaching the true oasis at the bandstand, we found solace and sustenance
in the generously provided bucket, stilton and even port to go with the
cheese. The distinction of being awarded unsolicited lubrication in the form
of a down-down (or two) is a squiffy memory I shall treasure for many years
to come. I always knew being a part of the Hash Pantomime would reap some
reward - even if it should take three decades to do so.
The on-on's on both Friday and Saturday nights were superb, and the Hash
being the Hash, whether in North Yorkshire or Kowloon, fulfilled all
expectations of a good time had by all.

Apologies for the length of this note, but thanks again for your great
efforts in organising what was a rejuvenating experience for at least one
enthusiastic hashing has-been.

Best regards,

Stan.