On May 15 Dead End and Small Potatoes hared. Lord knows we keep recommending adult supervision when Dead End hares, but SP is only one woman, and a wee one at that. As it was she confessed that she had managed to get her mom to cut off at least some of her planned trail, to which Dead End snorted derisively and said she thought it was too short. She gave us a look like she thought we should all be whacked with yardsticks by nuns because we were all weak and feeble.

We were a small group of 11 or 12 that met at some place called Kelly’s Korner tucked away in a strip mall in Scarborough. Tiny place, we almost filled it ourselves. I think everybody else there was named Kelly – either first or last name. We had a couple of new boots, Kylie and Carey, something like that, cute couple of kids, consistent FRBs for this hash. They said they had a great time during the down downs, so why do I think we’ll never see them again?

COD arrived driving a small Japanese car that he then began to park in a handicapped spot. Cathy was in the car with him, but still, that was pretty quick to lose your mojo. As usual, Cathy was dressed for a day at the mall. But COD did take charge, commanding the pack to set off at precisely 3:20.

Once on trail, we got to experience the quintessentially Scarberian environment of private wealth and public squalor as we ran through the glory that is Kingston Road, past the welfare motel and, once you turn the corner, entering the preserve of lush lawns and lavish lots. We got onto the Doris McCarthy trail, which led down to some parkland overlooking the lake. Just remember to pull up short when you get to the Bluffs. After traipsing around in the park for a few minutes, the trail then went off in a succession of winding suburban streets and cul-de-sacs – a fancy French way of describing a Dead End, of course.

Somewhere along there somebody got a call from Shadow, since we’d taken off before he could get to the start. We eventually did meet up with him, and he seemed sound and hearty. Really, this must be one of the few occasions when Shadow actually was on trail.

Round about then the trail started to seem confusing and interminable, especially since the trail markings began to get sparse, and then the trail doubled back on itself past where we’d already gone on Kingston Road. But we’d already been forewarned about this, so it came as no surprise. There was a beer check yet to come, but obviously Dead End still needed to get in a few more kilometres, so it was follow the hare as she marked her trail through yet more suburban streets. The BC was finally found in Small Potatoes’ backyard, a fortuitous two minute walk from the start.

There was still one slight problem. Cathy and Moist Leatherette had taken their own walkers’ trail, and never got to the beer check. And weren’t back at the bar, either, when we were forced outside for down downs (the band – all two of them – took the only space left). This was a problem for COD because Cathy had the car keys, and for me because, hell, I’m too old to get married again. But as we circled for punishment, they finally trudged into sight, bedraggled and exhausted.