I have a faint repressed recollection of a cold and dark mid-February Wednesday evening… a beautiful woman, slinky dress, bare arms and legs…

NOOOO! It’s a man! Well, Dipstick anyways.

Dipstick’s Legs

As a matter of fact there were an eerily large number of hashers who looked darn good at the 2013 version of the annual tribute to the Feast of Saint Valentine – the Oxford Hash House Harriers Red Dress Run.

We met at The Cowley Retreat.   The usual pre-trail banter and beverages led by FBJ, La Crease, Silent, and a host of the usual suspects was augmented with the donning of red dresses, scarves, blouses, nighties, and tights by all those present.   There was also much discussion about what Goldilocks forgot to bring… his golden locks.  A “Baldilocks” renaming was considered, but it did not grow on us.

Once appropriately dressed with drinking muscles warmed up, Web Fart took charge and we proceeded on out, where Cruella was waiting for a trick under the un-red lights.

Oxford H3 Red Dress Run 2013

With two blobs and on, the hares, Finger Flasher and Victoria, ensured that our festive attire was enjoyed by as many amused spectators as possible.

After teasing the patrons and lubricating the red machine with two and on at the Rusty Bicycle, we proceed to do the same at the appropriately named Marsh Harrier.

Now ready to do some serious hashing, two and on became just on and on.  Not quite sure what happened on the golf course.  The torchless Dipstick confidently yelling “on on” in the scrub, the front running red lemmings blissfully in pursuit – it must have been the Seafarers Ale from the last BS that was guiding the way!

Oxford H3 Red Dress Run 2013

That great golf course fiasco resulted in a slow trickle of harriers to the On Inn and some missing persons in Shagger, Swing Low, Fag End, WhadeSay.  Web Fart had a wonderful spread to show the ladies… excellent food that is.

The early and late assembled, and the lost lamented; we circled for the awarding of down downs to the slutty dressers (Victoria and Dipstick), the undressed (Warm & Fluffy and Grand Theft Anal) and the hares.

Back at the old Hobgoblin in varying states of red dress undress; the wonderful evening was polished off – this scribe will not soon forget her first Red Dress Run.

On on, Blew Bayou

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‘Der spring is sprung
Der grass is riz
I wonder where dem boidies is?

Der little boids is on der wing,
Ain’t dat absoid?
Der little wings is on de boid!’

Yes, you would be forgiven for thinking this was starting in German, but no you clever little Oxford Hashers soon worked out  that it’s the famous poem that nobody knows who penned. So there we were, the familiar Wednesday evening out in the countryside on a glorious, warm and dry spring evening…just waiting for the call, ‘On out!’  The pub’s garden was filing with expectant Hashers. There was returner Scragend stroking Badger, with her legs up in the air! What a tart! Badger that is…..NOT Scraggie!  Roadie had dusted himself off from winters cobwebs, returning after 6 months of hibernation with his bicycle. No NOT Scraggie, his real bicycle! (By the way, after writing this I am losing 2 stone, shaving my hair completely off, will start to blow a trumpet and will call myself FBJ…that’s how you will find me!)

OH3, Ickford

When the numbers had swelled to 20 we were off and out. We were warned of the bovine bull terror (NOT terrier!) with his herd of Friesian girlfriends. Also, that horsemeat was hidden in the mix under the guise of real running horses in a field or two. Off down the road.  An unlikely left in to the housing estate and we were soon in the countryside.  Billy Wizz was seen legging it down unaware of the false soon to focus in his gaze, whilst Victoria and FBJ were seen disappearing over the style and in to the herd enclosure to the field beyond…alas with further falsies to greet them. Only Roadie and Dippy were using their intelligence and intuition to find the correct route…(Yes I know…Dippy was in that statement, some would call it an oxymoron!) Again…the statement, NOT Dippy!

OH3, Ickford

It wasn’t long and we were skirting around Shabbington, after a cunning little back check  through the farmers private land. Scragend had sensed the true path, following her natural instincts and led the pack back out in to the open spaces of the countryside.  It was at this point our walkers Rayan, Dumb Struck, Shagger peeled off to make their own merry, led by Le Crease. It was getting hotter at this stage and guess who it was who exclaimed that, ‘this heat..(gasp)…it’s enough to..(wheeze)…give you….salty nuts..’ said Salty nuts!

OH3, Ickford

Paul and Jess youth and dynamism were holding them in good stead as they explored each check with gusto…… Gusto was from the Berkshire hash and we haven’t seen him since that last check, boom boom!

Exclaimed Lockjaw, ‘This is virgin territory for the hash’. Yes indeed, always virtually impossible to find anything virgin these days, the hare had found it. In the middle of nowhere, a check had them all fooled….FBJ ventured down one path much to the delight of the hare when the falsies are taken, Lockjaw and Woof went ahead, Dippy was seen disappearing along the hedge whilst a quick throw of flour in the shape of an arrow had Silent and Cruella spearheading in the most unlikely direction. Reassuring to see Pony Express bringing up the rear….does she ever get a rest at a check…any check?

There it was…. ‘On In’  and our new pal from across the pond (damn, what was his name?) was heard to call ‘that’s not ‘On In’ more like ‘All In’  as he wheezed and slumped toward the beer stop.

A plethora of down downs given by the RAs Victoria (I’m not really a RA) and Shagger.

ShitStix – For a truly unique and cunning trail never before experienced!

Scragend and Roadie – Returnees

Mr. ‘Rayan’ the pal from across the pond – newcomer  (loved the hat by the way)

Others now forgotten in the mists of time……

OH3, Ickford

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May Day Morning

At the Sunday TOSS, before the May Day Morning Hash, final preparation were taking place over a pint of beer with Dippy the hare.  How to find each other among the throng of people at Magdalen was my question.  Hold up an umbrella ‘tour leader ‘style came a useful response, otherwise you‘ll never find the hare amongst the thousands of people.

Oh chuckled Dippy I wondered what you were on about ….i thought you said thong!

That should have been a clue……

As May day dawned a small clutch of hashers comprised of Victoria, Goldilocks, Blue Bayou and Cruella, managed to find each other opposite the entrance to the Botanical Gardens.

May Day in Oxford City

The sun was up and shining on a beautiful spring morning, the choir was singing from atop Magdalen Tower and thousands of revellers swarmed around.  But no sign of our hare……well not for a while, until Dippy eventually emerged from the throng wearing ‘stealth grey’ running apparel and  holding a bag of flour.

We listened to the angelic refrains of the Hymnus Eucharisticus, and…. it being cultural and all that resisted at each interlude from following up with a hearty drink it down down down……….

Far too soon the singing was over and Dippy began to lay the live trail, also joined by a lady ex hasher – Straight In There, on through Christchurch. It was at this point that our hare was overwhelmed by the early morning glow and rising mists of dawn and decided to indulge in his photographic pursuits.

May Day in Oxford City

The  hounds continued relentlessly on up along St Aldates where the hare caught us up and on down Blue Boar Street to the beer stop at the Bear Inn for an alfresco beverage at 6:30 in the morning with live music and bonhomie.

May Day in Oxford City

On out for the final stage and short canter to the Kings Arms where we quaffed another couple of pints outside in the sunshine and watched Morris Men dance and Pagans pipe a tune on the steps of Clarendon Building in the surreal carnival atmosphere that can only be May Day Morning in Oxford.

May Day in Oxford City

On On

Cruella

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Ring ring, ring ring.

“Hi, is that technical support? My websites down…”"

“…welcome to Findmenet technical support, your call is important to us…”

Bugger – bloody automated answering machine.

“…please wait for the next available adviser…in the mean time sit back and tuck into some delicious mint yoghurt soup whist relaxing to Turkish music”.

Five days later and Gadget gets it up.  The website that is.

Enough of this drivel!  On with the trash!

The pack met at the newly re-opened Seven Stars in the middle of the Baldons for an evening of miss-direction, mistaken identity, miss-heard calling and general mayhem, courtesy of Goldilocks.

It wasn’t too long before Woof-Woof was off and chasing things.  Now I don’t watch spring-watch much (not that there’s been much Spring to watch recently) but I think I can tell a Deer from a Pheasant.  Unlike a couple members of the pack.

Doh! A Deer! A female Deer!

Well, several of them actually – and probably a few males mixed in with them as well.

Regretfully, whilst his away drive and Singling were exemplary, Woof Woof failed at the double-lift and penning.  His handler, Lockjaw, was bitterly disappointed that the dynamic duo failed to qualify for a place in the Young Handlers.

Oxford H3′s famous set of long-lost identical twins: Shagger and Dipstick, were reunited at the regroup, and we were off again.

On across the road and Goldilocks was promising the harriettes that there would be some pea sized cocks to see shortly.  They weren’t looking too impressed later at the fowl sight.

On back across the road and we were gazing at the River Thames at a hash view.  Would be going for a swim?  Not this week.

FBJ was later found rambling on about some funny fungus and stoned frogs.  No, this had nothing to do with La Crease.

Spicy sausage was on the menu back at Dipstick’s passion wagon whist Victoria held circle and tried to make some sense out of the aforementioned events whilst praise was heaped on Goldilocks for his second trail laid.

Silent

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Cruella & ShitStix

Wednesday oxford hash at from the Six Bells in Thame, Woof was looking forward to the trail which was to be laid by Cruella. Her excitement grew as we got picked up by Wha Da Say and Fagend at the cross roads on the Islip to Forest Hill road. She Hoovered out the back of the car, disappointingly low yield. Arriving at the pub excitement built as there is usually pub detritus to be eaten. A quick sniff around under some tables revealed plenty of crisps, nuts and indescribable goodies.

New Boots: Rayan, Billy Whiz & Ear Pads

The On Out led us behind the pub onto Cuttle Brook Nature Reserve where there was shiggy and some nice checks, we had a drink and a little paddle in Cuttle Brook which appeared quite refreshing.

Shit Stix picks his nose whilst waiting for Dipstick to finish his drink

Cruella was hovering with his bag of flour and we took off over the Lord Williams School playing fields to the old railway line. This was the line which linked Thame to Oxford in one direction and Chinnor in the other. I remember taking a steam train to Oxford. Chuff chuff chuff. The pack ran back along the old line towards Thame and into new housing estates, across the Recreation ground out onto Southern Road.

Shit Stix & Lockjaw

It was near here that Woof smelled a pub and so we took off in pursuit. Her keen nose found the Cross Keys where we were joined by Wha Da Say and Fagend. We had a nice pint of bitter and some pub detritus.

Ear Pad is named

Unfortunately we missed the rest of the trail and turned up just in time at the beer stop outside St Mary’s C O E .

Ear Pad is named

A very nice sausage something courtesy of Dipstick. Checked out the camper van, clean, nothing to eat, so left a few white hair on the seats.

Our RA was Badger’s owner.

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Our GM Silent proclaimed the run to be the first run of spring! (Apparently this being a temperate season following winter) however to the clutch of chilled hashers gathered in the dark, that notion seemed a wee bit premature in the near sub-zero temperature.

Head Down from Ashburton H3 & Shagger (RA)

The on out soon encountered ’39 Steps’ and beyond the trail set out by FBJ soon developed more guile and intrigue than any Hitchcock plot as it wound its way around the back streets of Woodstock.

Head Down from Ashburton H3

Soon followed a cunning back check which perplexed the valiant FRBs and gave the rest of us a chance to catch our breath after the earlier ascent.

The trail seemed to have more checks than a chess board as it delved deeper into the heart
of the village. Even more curious was the sudden appearance of checks that had ‘apparently’ been ‘overlooked’ by the FRB’s. Strange how the hare was always at the very spot of these miraculous manifestations!

Hare: FBJ

The run was as FBJ’s other half would say ‘Petite’ though given the cold, just right. That said FBJ still reckons it took him 2 hours to lay. (Including pub stops I’m thinking?)

Dipstick

Soon enough the On Inn appeared and the pervasive aroma of lovely hot soup greeted us courtesy of our resident master chef Shit Stix. In fact so appealing was the soupy scene on such a raw night we had to fend off at least one member of the public who was about to join the queue on the assumption he had stumbled upon a charitable soup kitchen!

Victoria & Shagger

Shagger presided over the Down Downs which went to FBJ our hare for a nice concise gamble around town, Head Down our visitor, Dippy for apparently forgetting his running shoes, FBJ for lending said running shoes to Dippy (or something like that) and Lockjaw (I think) for something which I can’t remember, but it should have been (if it wasn’t) for the story about the extra curricula use of his vibrating dentist chair. (You have to ask him!)

Lockjaw

On On
Cruella

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Los formícidos (Formicidae), conocidos comúnmente como hormigas, son una familia de insectos sociales que, como las avispas y las abejas, pertenecen al orden de los himenópteros. Las hormigas evolucionaron de antepasados similares a una avispa a mediados del Cretáceo, hace entre 110 y 130 millones de años, diversificándose tras la expansión de las plantas con flor por el mundo. Son uno de los grupos zoológicos de mayor éxito y en la actualidad están clasificadas más de 12 000 especies, con estimaciones que superan las 14 000, y con unas tendencias actuales que predicen un total de más de 21 000. Se identifican fácilmente por sus antenas en ángulo y su estructura en tres secciones con una estrecha cintura. La rama de la entomología que las estudia se denomina mirmecología.

Drunk Ant Test

Forman colonias de un tamaño que se extiende desde unas docenas de individuos predadores que viven en pequeñas cavidades naturales, a colonias muy organizadas que pueden ocupar grandes territorios compuestas por millones de individuos. Estas grandes colonias consisten sobre todo en hembras estériles sin alas que forman castas de obreras y de machos estériles con alas o sin alas llamados soldados. Las colonias de hormigas también cuentan con algunos machos fértiles y una o varias hembras fértiles llamadas «reinas». Estas colonias son descritas a veces como superorganismos, dado que las hormigas parecen actuar como una entidad única, trabajando colectivamente en apoyo de la colonia.^[3]

Han colonizado casi todas las zonas terrestres del planeta; los únicos lugares que carecen de hormigas indígenas son la Antártida y algunas islas remotas o inhóspitas. Las hormigas prosperan en la mayor parte de estos ecosistemas y se calcula que pueden formar el 15-25% de la biomasa de los animales terrestres.^[4] Se estima que hay entre mil billones (10¹⁵) y diez mil billones (10¹⁶) de hormigas viviendo sobre la Tierra. Se considera que su éxito en tantos entornos se debe a su organización social y a su capacidad para modificar hábitats, a su aprovechamiento de los recursos y a su capacidad de defensa. Su prolongada coevolución con otras especies las ha llevado a desarrollar relaciones miméticas, comensales, parásitas y mutualistas.^[5]

Sus sociedades se caracterizan por la división del trabajo, la comunicación entre individuos ………

Whadesay & Salty Nuts

More specifically they’re talking about Hash ants….these are a special hybrid that evolved to follow hash kennels around, observing the biped species Homo sapiens Hashalotus and mopping up spilt beer and food. A colony were in Abingdon recently and spotted Dippy practicing his running technique (insult the locals in a pub in the rougher part of town and then run like hell). They also sampled Shit Stix’s Thai Green soup, which also had something to do with Dippy,  he must be working for them……..

Dipstick & Whadesay

On On!

Goldilocks

And for those that can’t read Spanish:

The Formicidae (Formicidae), commonly known as ants, are a family of social insects, such as wasps and bees, belong to the order Hymenoptera. Ants evolved from wasp-like ancestors in the mid-Cretaceous, between 110 and 130 million years after the expansion of diversifying flowering plants in the world. They are one of the most successful zoological groups and are now classified more than 12 000 species, with estimates that exceed 14,000, and current trends predict a total of more than 21,000. They are easily identified by their antennae at an angle and its structure in three sections with a narrow waist. The branch of entomology that studies called myrmecology.

They form colonies of a size ranging from a few dozen predatory individuals living in small natural cavities to highly organized colonies which may occupy large territories consist of millions of individuals. These larger colonies consist mostly of sterile wingless females forming castes of sterile male workers and winged or wingless called soldiers. Ant colonies also have some fertile males and one or more fertile females called “queens”. These colonies are sometimes described as superorganisms, because the ants appear to act as a single entity, working collectively to support the colony. [3]

Have colonized almost all land areas of the planet the only places lacking indigenous ants are Antarctica and a few remote or inhospitable islands. Ants thrive in most ecosystems, and may form an estimated 15-25% of the terrestrial animal biomass. [4] It is estimated that between one trillion (1015) and ten quadrillion (1016) ants living on Earth. It believes that its success in many environments is due to their social organization and their ability to modify habitats, their resource use and its defense capability. Their long co-evolution with other species has led them to develop relationships mimetic, commensal, parasitic and mutualistic. [5]

Their societies are characterized by the division of labor, communication between individuals

Silent

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Sorry this is a bit late. I did tell Silent I’d be rather busy throughout the weekend, just had a small run the following Sunday to prepare for. It was a little inconvenient of him to expect me to scribe for Wednesday’s trail etc, etc…

Silent listened understandingly as older brothers do, then with that face of a constipated gutter rat he nominated me regardless, the evil slime-rodent. Anyway, these are my words for Gadget’s trail.

Slippery on the Grizzly

Arriving half an hour early at The Red Lion I found the hare, Gadget who’d been scoffing chips while distracted by something of interest to him on his phone. FBJ, appeared similarly distracted over another clue in one of those Guardian Crosswords he likes. Same Crossword? Time I guess to check out my new shoes walking over to the bar for a bit of Hookey. Oh-no! Did I mention I was wearing new shoes? No reaction at all? Perhaps Oxford H3 hasn’t incorporated this hash tradition? I appear to have got away with this in Devon too. Luckily, FBJ, Shagger and the newly arrived Silent were now altogether distracted by that something on Gadget’s phone. What was this that manifested much merriment on each one of their faces? Internet porn? (Just dare try adding a link for that one, Silent) [sure, here's a photo of a couple of birds getting frisky together, Silent] Well, no actually, something far more useful. Gadget recorded his Red Lion GPS trail and shared this online prior to the hash. Indeed, very generous of Gadget and did I really say it was something more useful?

Gadget’s FaceBook Post

We dragged ourselves from the warmth of The Red Lion and away from the Hookey and Abbot beers out into a cold car-park. Animal Magic was reluctant to join us outside. We had a virtual on-line trail, so could we not have remained inside the pub? [Like]. It made sense at the time. Gadget had put so much effort into laying the night’s trail after all.

We picked up the one and on trail into Boults Lane and out of the estate into some sports fields. Discovering a check and anticipating a town trail, I hunted about in the estate, found a blob carefully laid over a drain-hole cover and I called on. The hash pack funnelled through the gateway behind me…. Wait a minute. That’s not what happened. Everyone ignored me and carried on through the length of the field. Was this not a one and on trail? …Gadget?

Animal Magic & Gadget

A few cunning weaves around a residential area between Eden Drive and Headley Way and along beside the hospital. Here, everybody had disappeared from me somewhere nearby to the shops. Ten minutes separated from the hash and I was pacing about around the back of a car park desperately seeking a sign. Not even one pile of flour.  Three laps back and forth along London road, both inside the park and along the footpath by the road, through the park again, around another estate and back onto the London Road, asking passers-by for directions back to Marston. At least I wasn’t wearing that red dress again. Damn it, why didn’t I bring my mobile phone? Local knowledge, eh?  Everybody else was having slightly better luck finding the trail. I believe Animal Magic had the foresight to carry his phone with him and having arrived at the long/ short split, he led everybody successfully around the long to the south of Headley Way. Meanwhile, to my relief I found a check at The White Horse. Shagger wasn’t inside. Were you all so far ahead? For me the trail here was a long run back along the Headley Way to the Marston Library, where I was pleased to discover you all returned safely just a mere few minutes ahead of me.

Chef Shit Stix

Silent was lurking about at the corner. He’d brought me a dish of that delicious grub. We sampled some of chef-Shitstix’s sensational slices of sausage in a spicy sauce.

Circle was summoned and Animal-Magic introduced the varied DDs earned that night, water to Gadget for laying an outstanding one and on trail, a beer to Animal Magic for co-haring with the aid of his smart-phone after the longs too became lost. Slippery had a DD for running an extra length of trail (Grizzly Training).

Slippery

Dipstick had one for ignoring his Dr’s advice. He gave blood then cycled from Wallingford to Abingdon, then Abingdon to Oxford for the night’s hash. Subsequently, he feinted hence his lateness.

Also our virgins, Paul and Jess, got DDs.

Newcomers Paul & Jess, with Animal Magic

We all hope you’re feeling better now Dipstick. Put your feet up and lay off the beer for a while…!

Thanks for arranging a great evening Gadget.

On-On, Slips! [Share]

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The White Hart, Eynsham

We arrived in Eynsham at the White Hart pub only to find that our hare was suffering from the Curse of the Mummy, well man-flu at least, and had delegated the run to our young GM Silent!

“The best trail Silent’s never laid!”, La Crease.

Well there was I thinking what a great day!  I’d won the Technet Element of the Week quiz, my manager was on holiday meaning I’d been able to get on and complete three boards is as many days, and I’d snagged pre-sale tickets to next year’s Within Temptation concert at Wembly Arena.  Could this day get any better?

Then I walked in to The White Hart at Eynsham, ordered a Red Kite beer and sat down to savour the pint before the rest of the pack arrived.

The next thing I know a guilty and haggard looking Mummies Boy handed me a map and said, with an increasingly rasping voice, “I’m ill *cough* here’s a map, *cough*, you’re haring”.

But hey, at least Salty Nut’s referred to me as “our young GM Silent”

Silent

Back to Salty Nut’s write-up:

In the meantime Wha De Say and Shagger were looking for inspiration and wondering what the hell happened to their youth?

Wha De Say and Shagger looking for inspiration

Eynsham is a delightful little town famed from old as being the ideal place to traverse the Thames with your pigs. In fact, several welsh sheriffs drowned in the swine-ford, and John Wesley nearly drowned as well, showing I think that pigs are more sure footed than people (hashers excepted). Because of this, and the fact that George III got wet whilst crossing (a pioneer hasher perhaps?), the Earl of Abingdon built a bridge and in gratitude the King gave him the tolls, tax free, for ever. So at least you know where your 5p  is going to.

“Ah! Just the gloss-pink for my bathroom”, Gadget

Any way we set off and after rattling down a few alleys found our selves in the church cemetery. This was a grave error but if we were to have a ghost of a chance of completing the trail we had to put an end to the corny puns and find some flour! Low Cost and Finger Flasher eventually led us off round the streets and down to a check on a dark lane. After much running of falsies it turned out to be a back check, leaving Shit Stix and Dippy grumbling about hashing in the good-old-days.

The trail was certainly round the houses, as lamented by Black Beauty and Cruella, but it kept us going, and the Latchkey Kid’s local knowledge came in handy a few times.

After a few classically point-less loops and a very trip-hazard path through the woods we arrived back at Swing Lows for the On Inn. Here we were treated to chilli con carne and veggie-mush for Shit Stix.

The Circle

It was too cold to stay for the circle so I buggered off. I expect Silent and Mummies Boy got a down down for haring and Dippy for being dippy, but as I wasn’t there you’ll have to make the rest up yourselves! If you are wondering where the trail went, and many of us still are, then Silent’s log is shown below.

Silent’s Log. Looking at that map again, my original thought that Mummy’s Boy had traced the trail around some randomly placed jigsaw pieces has changed.
Tilt your head to the right and it’s the outline of one of Swing Low’s dogs. ON ON, FBJ.

On On, Salty Nuts , with additional contributions from FBJ and Silent

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After setting off with vague but severe instructions from the Hare, WhaDSay, the Oxford Hash made their way along the main road of Whitney.  At the first check, naturally all the FRBs when straight on, only to be called “On back, On back,” by the Hare. From then on no one knew where they were.  Animal Magic decided to describe Whitney to the Hashers.  He pointed out the local petrol stations and supermarket, but then he discovered he was in the wrong town.

Due to freezing temperatures, What D Say was checking on the Hashers and making sure that he was calling “On One”, On Two”, “On On” under each step of FBJ.

What D say had arranged a visit to Latch Key Kid’s football ground, but the only thing that was there to kick around was mud clods. Swing Low offered him encouraging by leading the way ahead with the aroma of Veggie Chili that was awaiting everyone back at the Beer Stop.

Late Arrivals as usual were Finger Flasher and Pony Express.  Quickly Finger Flasher was in the lead back to the Pub. Meanwhile poor Pony Express was lost in Whitney; she was making her way around in her 4 Horse Power Engine. Hooray, she was able to arrive ahead of the Hashers at the Beer Stop.

Back at the Pub, Silent was asked by the bar master to kindly stop lurking outside of the Ladies Loo.  He took notice of position and when the bar master was not looking, Silent repositioned his chair directly in front of the Ladies Loo…. again.

For next week, road kill stew is off the menu. This is due to all of the watchful Hashers that called Wolf back from joining the barking dogs across the road…. Not sure as to what the menu will be WebFarts has checked his burgers in the freezer and has discovered that they, “Are Off!!!”

This week was a great trail.

Reporting for the first time together,

Gadget and Dumbstruck

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