A check almost immediately on entering the trees temporarily split the pack, well actually Old Faithful went one way and all the rest went the other. Guess who was on the trail ?. You are correct, so we only caught up with OF as he was checking out a falsie on the path over the road to Hat Hill.
Turning on our heels from here we headed back into the rainforest and Molecomb Peak and thats where I lost track of where we were. Somewhere near the top of the climb Flash discovered a group photo opportunity round a soggy bench that no one but Heather was willing to sit on.
Then we were lead a merry dance through the labyrinthine paths in The Plantation before emerging into the carpark near the Grandstand where Can Man had a "fill your boots!" time amongst the saturday night throw aways.
With a modicum of assistance from the hares we nosed our way round the field just south of the carpark avoiding the new Rallycross circuit and headed east back into the gloom of the woods and down into Appletree Bottom where the more observant hounds eventualy exclaimed "we have been here before, its like deja vue all over again!".
We had a brief regroup under a sheltering yew and then a short sprint to the On-In, one hour and seventeen minutes after setting forth.
Anyone with a large golfing umberella is very popular when its persistantly raining, consequently the hash circle was made up of a small dense steaming cluster of hashers not quite managing to stay in the shelter of such a piece of apparatus.
There was a nomination for yours truly for hugging a tree stump and for Heather for stealing a pair of shoes, however the show was stolen by Frances as she received her hash name. From henceforth she is to be known as Pink Flamingo in recognition of her long legs and the pink outfit she sometimes wears and not her habit of standing on one leg and going to sleep.
Some of the steamed up chariots headed for the pub in Singleton that used to be called The Fox while some took their occupants for an early bath.