The words for last week.

  Issue xxx​​                 Isca Hash House Harriers               20/06/12 Run Number xxx     Trail: Magdalen Car Park, Exeter City Centre Hare: Imelda On Down: George's Meeting House   If I said that the hare and a small and select pack of toned athletes met for a run on a glorious May evening last week, I'd be lying. It was June, getting ready to chuck it down and we had a big and varied pack, compete with visitors, virgins, walkers and runners. Also, the hare wasn't anywhere to be seen.   Not to be deterred by the impending doom from the skies or the lack of anyone that knows what they're doing, the usual incoherent ramblings from people trying to be in charge began. Then Coffin (not the hare) started telling us the particulars of the trail. Before she'd finished a rather harassed-looking Imelda (actually the hare) appeared, having just been out relaying washed-out marks. Waffle complete, the pack on-onned down the hill.   Following a couple of early fishhooks, a few twists and turns around the seedier end of the City Centre saw us crossing the river. No idea why- it was temporary and futile protection from the right soaking coming our way. As we started zig-zagging into the streets, the poor chalk marks were starting to look a bit worn out. The beleaguered hare popped in an emergency regroup and told us to give him a 'couple of minutes' for him to start his unplanned live lay.   In an outbreak of accidental sportsmanship, the now slightly damp pack actually did allow a couple of minutes before setting off but only because the nearby chippy smelt so nice. The fresh marks propelled us on through a long-short split to another regroup near some smokers outside the pub. They were trying to agree on whether to look bemused or indifferent to the drowned rats they were regarding. Cathuselem, bless him, missed the 30-odd hashers standing at the regroup and went sailing on by.   After the regroup, the trail demonstrated how lovely and flat Exeter couldn't be when it tried hard. The shorts at the split were let off the full ascent of the hill and the longs found themselves deposited in some unexpected country park-type land. Excellent- some shiggy to wash the rain off. A tricksy downhill was followed by a steep final uphill past the stampeding herd of cattle to the sweetie stop.   At this point, I think the pack had more turned into a shoal because we hung around for quite a while before we swam off down the hill, once more pursuing in live-trail fashion. Unfortunately, the air was now made up more of raindrops that air, and even the front-runners were having trouble picking out arrows and (more importantly) fishhooks.   Our rapid and increasingly confused twisting and turning eventually brought us back to the river where the trail had finally floated away downstream. The now rather wrinkly pack paddled its way back up to the car park for down downs and rub downs with dry towels. The last hasher back was the live-laying hare.   Pints all-round, surely?! Alas no trail can be perfect.   A quick change later beer, burgers and a review of Buzby's excellent photos with no pants on for many helped the rest of the evening go merrily by.   I don't remember any dogs on trail. What does this mean? Either that dogs dissolve or they're not stupid enough to go hashing in a monsoon.   Special condemnations go to the virgins who smiled throughout the trail, Spocky's banter, and their maiden down downs- welcome to ISCA!   Well done to a very damp and hard-working hare for an ace trail- maybe you should rerun it in the summer?...   Down Downs Imelda for being the Hare Various guests and virgins Twice Nightly because Spocky Bitz didn't give her and Clever Dick a lift Others?     On on, Clever Dick