The rain has finally stopped so we've decided to make a break for it. Our base at the Earl of Pitt Street can provide beer for only so long. Mindphuck is going to lead. Pop's going to attempt to walk to safety with Lubri and Totem; the rest of us will attempt to r*n. Visibility is good due to the full moon. Conditions are cold but dry, and so quiet – for now...
Five Kuai has arrived. Pressed for time, we made him strip down to his shorts and vest in the street.
We have traversed the Science Central glacier and begun ascent of the Westgate Road, via the Brewery Lane face. Kuai and Chafing have taken point. We're relying on them to find the route.
We appear to be lost. The pack is desperately searching for more flour at the Big Lamp junction – I hope we find something soon. There's some noise behind us which may be the hare.
Mindphuck has called us back. We're attempting the rear approach to Stanhope via the back streets. Hope she knows what she's doing; anything could happen out there.
Concerns about our leader. She says it "all looks different in the dark". Morale remains high for now, but I wonder what will happen if the weather sets in. We don't want a repeat of what the Mormons went through.
We've made it across Stanhope Street. The trail's led us into the back streets again, and now we're beginning to lose contact with the sherpas at the rear. We must press on.
We've made it to a stop check on Beaconsfield but we've lost the hare. There's confusion here; nobody's sure what to do. About five metres away there's a local couple having a domestic in the back kitchen of the house. I think they're wondering why we're standing out here.
Still waiting. Counterfit has begun shouting ON ON at the top of his voice. The domestic is getting louder. Om decided to go and look for Mindphuck; we sent Gripper with him in case the locals prove hungry.
Mindphuck reappears at last. She's backtracked along her own trail from a quarter mile ahead, having got completely lost in the back streets. She says she'll never live it down; we hope we live out the night. Frostbite is beginning to afflict the party. Om and Gripper are still not in sight. Frogsporn goes to chase them down.
We're on out again. Passed a police car heading for our stop check.
We've crossed the Nuns Moor icefield and negotiated Barrack Road. FRBs starting to appear now, I think Frogsporn and Om have dodged the police. Maybe we'll get through this after all.
Slippery finds signs of life. It looks like there was drink available here at one time, and pretty cheap too. It seems we're heading east again, into the back alleys of Newcastle University.
Lost again. From fresh flour we've ended up on last week's trail, still not washed away despite the incessant rain. Local fauna is mostly students, which I think are used to us by now. Long argument about whether we're going the right way or not.
Mindphuck has corrected her trail by adding an arrow and pretending she hasn't. We're now heading back over Richardson Road and into the maze-like space of Leazes Park. If you find this account, notify my wife and children.
Gripper is miles ahead of us. He somehow read the trail right and has explored the park – great fortune, saving us considerable checking. For a moment we thought fog was about to envelop us, but it's just a gang of lads chonging a spliff.
A brief halt at the lake where we commemorated Hashers of old who fell in – poor Touch & Go. Treasure Chest did the photographic work. Gripper, very diligent on this expedition, has been careful to do the bunny ears on the hare.
We have made it through the park and onto Leazes Terrace. More FRBs here, though apparently some were missed – conditions make it impossible to stop for long. Fingers becoming too numb to write. I hope someone finds our bodies before the thaw...
We have reached the beer stop! The Strawberry is nice and warm inside, and the wa*kers are here just ahead of us. General amazement at this haring success. Pints all round.
On out for the final stretch. Morale is high now, we have hopes of reaching safety after all.
We're back where we started.
The circle was brief, delayed slightly by Frogsporn taking pictures of the pub. Mindphuck was welcomed to her 69th year and down-downed for getting lost on her own trail. Missed FRBs were called on most of the Hash – I think the freezing weather has confused the minds of some – before the Social Sex were called out by Kuai for either being, or not being, on the Fash last weekend. The ever-present threat of cannibalism is staved off by the discovery of cake stores, and provisions of chips and nachos.
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