In the midst of a week of autumnal rain and squalls, the torrential rain dried up and the wind dropped to give the good weather guaranteed by me for the final handicap of the 2000 series. With blue skies overhead the evening sun's golden glow bathed the Arthur's Seat Hills and the 40 runners who turned up to compete over this historic ground.

The 6th September, the day of the race was the anniversary of the birth of Dr Robert Knox, the anatomist whose need for bodies prompted the notorious Burke and Hare to take up their nefarious activities of grave robbing and murder. Had he still been around, Knox may have learned a few things about anatomy observing the Carnethy faithful limbering up prior to the race. He may perhaps have been more interested in those who arrived back half-dead later on but whilst there wasn't any body snatching going on there was a considerable amount of snatching of the race win.

Fiona Weir who passed him in the final couple of yards snatched Richard Robertson's first win in a handicap race since the races started in 1988. Given his height, if he'd just fallen flat on his face he'd have crossed the line first. But then as she was a non-member, official victory was snatched back. Only to be snatched away again by me when Richard confessed to having shaved off a corner or two from the prescribed route. As others arrived back it soon became apparent that no two people had taken exactly the same route and his win was re-instated, only to be snatched again by Angela Wood who had started later than her handicap time and so had her finish time adjusted. Angela's victory was similarly short-lived however as race precedents meant that her late start time must be taken as her official start time and Richard was once more and finally declared the winner.

Elsewhere on the course the usual suspects were up to the usual dirty tricks, with Keith Burns falling for Willie Gibson's 'you're going the wrong way' ploy, whilst others found the route recommended by their 'friends' left them thigh deep in the gorse or in the middle of Dunsappie Loch! Nick Schierloh had ignored his handicap and decided to 'go off scratch or with the first woman, whichever looks the most attractive' and so had his finish time adjusted to snatch him from a comfortable 4^th to a more comfortable last. Disgusted he told me he would lodge an official protest with the President…aye.

Once all the berks had finished we hared round to the Sheep's Heid Inn to overwhelm the staff who were expecting about 15 people but dealt admirably with the thirty-odd that turned up. Ale, anecdote and allegations combined for the rest of the evening with conversation silenced by Keith's throwaway line —which he claims was about the obsession of Munro bagging—'Yes, it gets to such an extreme that if in bed you see a hump in the mattress you have to get on top of it'! Perhaps that explains what people get up to when the handicap season is over.