25th August – CH4 – Itchy Bitchy

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With Suckit back in town, Itchy had him help her set the trail – rather than celebrating his return, she forced him out into the hills to set a run… Knowing the team up, I had high expectations for the run, and as usual I wasn’t disappointed – why can’t every run be like today?

A slightly delayed hare brief and we were set off down the dirt road. An early circle check, within 100m or so, had us reluctantly milling around while we waited for Big Top to call on from straight on. We followed and quickly hit another V check. This was where things may have got confused? I checked to the right, and soon spotted the pink post it’s heading way up the hill into the distance. Meanwhile behind me Big Top was leading everyone else along the false trail – apparently they ran past the check back and needed a group meeting to verify they’d gone the wrong way…

I didn’t see or hear anyone else again…

Sometimes on those lonely nights at home, when you’ve jacked off enough times, and your trying to get to sleep, just occasionally your mind wanders to the hash, and you dream you’re out on the trail, running through the hills. Occasionally you might just let yourself dream the ‘perfect hash’ – where you hit every check, nail them all and run in like a champ. You may throw in the odd bit of parkour or free running as your mind leaps over gorges and swings around trees. Perhaps it’s just me? The gap between dream world and reality is vivid, and it’s rare to nail all the checks… Was I dreaming? Was it real? The stories in the circle told of unending troubles with the pack struggling to find the trail, yet when I ran through, the dots connected, the stars aligned, and the route opened up in front of me like a geek suddenly decoding the matrix. My calls were futile, the pack 15 minutes back, and things were perfect, until the last check…

At last I got to see what a check back looked like, damnit! It didn’t cost me much though, I was home free and tucking into a beer. With no HRA, Chuckie or Poo, perhaps the odds were in my favour, call me a racist if you like, or let me have my moment and savour it! One day you may have the ‘perfect hash’…