The early morning freezing sleet gave way to slightly warmer torrential rain which sounded like the staccato rattle of a thousand machine guns as it pounded on the roofs of the chariots parked in the drive at Nyton Spinney.
A band of hard core hashers listened to the usual lies in the warmth of Can Man's kitchen even though Mr Bean's teeth were still chattering from the earlier trail laying he warned us to be careful crossing the dual carriageway and to take care over the slippery wooden bridges, yea right.
Guess what ?... as we sallied forth to do battle with the elements, the elements surrendered and the rain became a light drizzle as we skirted the eastern edge of the spinney and headed south with Old Faithful leading the way.
Now we all know how Can Man is frugal with the McDougal, with that and the washing with rain we were
having a hard time finding any trail, so to start with Mr Bean was forced to point out where the checks
We had a short break in the corner of the field because some of the pack were distracted by the slide and
the roundabout and would still be there had not old spoilsport Mr Bean started quoting by-laws.
Finaly we were treated to a totaly knackering slog around the big field just west of the Spinney before seeing the On-In after a well timed fiftyfive minutes.
To our very pleasant surprise Can Man invited us in to his house where we found a great spread of sarnies,
hot puff-pastry-pizza, eclairs, cakes, beer and of course lashings of hot tea.