My faith and belief in human nature was sorely tried when Hare Helen announced that "somewhat surprisingly" it was to be a fairly flat run - and then proceeded to take us up one of the biggest hills in Christendom. However, my faith was somewhat restored when the rest of the run stayed on the hilltops and was, indeed relatively flat. My faith was later somewhat shaken again when I viewed my GPS record of the evening which had recorded a total ascent of 1210 ft which is very nearly quarter of a vertical mile! But by that time my mind had been made up that it was (mainly) a very pleasant and flattish hash. Now you may say that this was partly due to the brace of pints and the chips I consumed in the pub afterwards, but I couldn't possibly comment. I also recorded that I had burnt off 659 calories - but as this is somewhat less than those consumed in the two pints of beer and chips I prefer not to think about it. The long run was reported to be around 5.5 miles and actually came in at 5.74, so that was reasonably accurate - indeed the announcement may have been somewhat over-egged as my 5.74 included 11 (and yes I do mean 11) back checks and four longish checks in the wrong direction. Having done quite a lot of running the weekend before, (painful aside, don't try to be teamed up with a very-much on form Sandra at Hashopoly unless you are (a) Helen or (b) want to be run off your tiny little tooties), but I digress, despite the weekend miles I was running quite well, (for me), and not only got the first seven checks in a row right but went on to amass a total of 15 where I checked and found the on-on. However, this had a downside, two in fact. Kerry first and Helen later. At each of the first five on-backs Kerry grinned evilly as I went past her, with the phrase "Serves you right for what you did over the weekend." I assume she was referring to my jolly jape of a long, mean, slippery, and near vertical false trail down the overgrown side of Wenlock Edge - but let me assure Kerry that my efforts were purely in a friendly spirit of fun and the very finest traditions of the hash. I would like to say that Kerry's words wounded me to the quick, but fairness leads me to say that they didn't – OK, I was actually on her side and though I will never admit it, I probably did deserve it. And talking of meanness we arrive at Hare Helen and her two special "Gerry" on-backs, again for the same reason. I remember thinking – and these are very nearly the exact words I thought "Oh what a wag that Helen is." As I say, very nearly my thoughts, perhaps not quite but very nearly! Being scribe for the evening I tried to keep my ears open for choice morsels to report. The best was between Helen and Natasha when Helen, drawing everyone's attention to Natasha's left boob, pointed out what seemed to be a very muddy handprint. OK some of the boy's eyes may have gone a little dreamy at this point. After demonstrating, by grabbing it herself, that it was possibly her own fair hand that was the culprit 'Tasha went on to highlight the equally muddy left half of her derrière. The final, if somewhat less exciting, solution was revealed when 'Tash announced that she had been running along "vertically and was then suddenly horizontal in the mud". Poor thing – oh, and I am sure that thoughts of muddy, horizontal and writhing girls are not ringing even the tiniest of bells in the deep recesses of your mind right now. Returning to the Hash the route took us in a roughly anticlockwise circle through Giles's Wood, Sergeant's Wood, Knighton's Hill Wood, then across Cross Coppice before skirting Ninn Wood. Instead of then having a long down hill along the appropriately named "Longdown Hill" we crossed over into Pulpit Wood with its Megalithic Hillfort on the top which we bypassed in the darkness. All that remained of a very pleasant, if tiring, evening was the long downhill to the well kept beer in the Red Lion with its plentiful supplies of tasty chips. Thanks Hells and Arron for another splendid HellsAarathon.