R*n 294: Newton in Bowland

OK, he said to himself as he drove the countless miles south to the rendezvous. Bin Lonely for a bit, quiet days, haven’t caught up with these Dudes for a long time. Bin lots of solo running on the empty lanes, smilin at sheep, talkin to walls. This time, get sociable, do the talking thang, stay in the crowd, Fun Run, hey yeah...

Bottom of the village, already ahead of the crowd, chooses the least likely lookin option, but dammit there’s the white stuff, always the white stuff man, gets your head and the rest of you in the wrong place, not in the crowd, but out there with the wind in yer face, lookin for the next fix on the next molehill, cowpat, stile but not style. Rein it in, but hey enjoyin that digging-the-heels into the ascent, it takes over. Another circle on the ground, another choice, take that one that looks unlikely, that’ll throw you back in the pack…. oh bugger there it is again, the infernal pile of white. Circle time again, take the left, and the pink symbol on the post, the desolate cry of onon and another dose of isolation from the herd…

And misses the apparently blatant fish-hook and sits on a rock wondering how the silly buggers have managed to get lost in one single field,…… oh loneliness, just the wild hills and the blowin wind for company…

Yeah anyway after that it got better as your author did manage to make some successful wrong choices, and we chugged along through some good Forest of Bowland countryside, and all gathered on an island in the middle of the pond which didn’t sink, and drank beer etc, and then off again along lanes and paths and stuff and dropped into Slaidburn where we drank again well most of us except the Lost Ones who got lost somewhere and Twisted enjoyed shouting directions at the rest stick with what yer good at and then we carried on by the river and Full member redeemed himself by going round the bleedin second fish-hook several times but it was good and then we were back and that was good too and it was somewhere between 7 and 9 miles according tp how many diversions and fish-hooks you’d done and we all went down the pub and people got a bit hung up on matters concerning gravy and mustard for heavens sake but the Man With The Curly Hair was trying hard really and the beer and ‘am sandwich was bloomin good then we all went home.

Oh, and we had Meavy Maid and Jailer from South Hams that’s in the South who apparently introduced Twitter and Busted to Hash boy do they have A Lot To Answer For so they got a down down as did the Lost Boys Twot and No More Cum and for some reason Sir Tom Tom although he didn’t get Lost, and Cum Yak Yak for lookin like a Pussycat Doll and being the only person in the Hash who can lift her foot Up There wow and the hares got told off for doing a few blobs on the WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD says a campaigning Whitenoise who apparently tries to run down people who walk/run on the wrong side of the road to Teach Them A Lesson.

And you can believe some of that if you like.

Thanks, hares, and all of you for Good Company