Tuesday had arrived again. "It is our turn to do the write-up as you laid it last week, I have contacted Graham to give you a lift and I am off to visit mum," Sandra told me as she loaded the car.
Arriving with more others than I expected at Piddington, there was no snow in the car park. The Hare informed us it was a flat run (from here?), no shiggy, 3-ish and 5-ish, prompting the usual questions on -ish lengths. Please let it not be a Sarah '-ish' and the distance be just in miles and not in Kenometres.
So off across the fields, the Hash showed our belief in the Hare's description by checking with confidence uphill at every opportunity, even being called at one point, making Kamikaze Kev yell "On Back" and get us to follow the valley. The route took us past the football ground (Adams Park - Ed.), apparently with really good views of it - except no one was playing, the lights were off and it was very dark! Thanks Kev :-)
Soft snow is not supportive to run in and the underlying texture hard to determine from above, and also makes one's ankles cold and damp, so I steered around it on the On Back and tried the claggy mud next to it, smoother but not much grip. The grass although cambered is probably the best route, although with cold ankles and claggy shoes it was a bit hard to really know.
Obviously without Hells, Bigfoot and Speedbump the pace was much higher than usual, no-one feeling the need to make them look good. Indeed having crossed the valley and going up the opposite side Nikki came running past me like a train. At the furthest point Kev remembered he had forgotten to mention the kitchen closed at 8:45. (small detail!)
Knowing I was appointed scribe I asked if anything of note had happened on the short run. Mike was apparently having trouble getting his leg over, so Nikki - the only female member out this evening - kindly gave him a bunk-up, and later sprinted past me up a hill? Probably totally unrelated incidents! The 3- or 4-man short run (they had trouble counting) split with only Rob going over the final hill, the other true SCBs followed the road back. In the pub there were plates full of hot Jenga chips, and many choices of beer. Mike stood in and made a very eloquent speech, it was mentioned the steaks were slightly too rare, and the crème brûlée was fractionally over-cooked, possibly by the flambé at the table.
All in all a very pleasant hash, great food, flat-ish. Thanks Kev.