Pub 'n Chips Run
With the nights starting to draw in (?!?), this year's pub 'n' chippers gathered at KB for a warm-up jar, and to goggle at the epic tennis match playing out on the big screen - at 42 all in the 5th set when we left KB, Mahut and Isner finally gave up when it got too dark at 59-59...roughly when we were leaving the Stables Bar hours later...
And, as is usual on nights like this, two themes for the evening developed from the beginning - Andy Millard's Vogueing, and raising a toast to the good health (but what was his injury?!?) of Chris Henty, enjoying sunny Glasters, but missing Pub and Chips again...
Anyways, off we went over Blackford's Three Peaks to the summit, then on a plunge down the city side and into the Astley Ainslie. Wending our bizarre way round its nooks and crannies, we finally escaped and made the Merlin, to find our injured Presidente and Occasional Phil already supping away in the evening sun.
Bags of chips in hand, we then hit the Morningside Glory, where Jane was reduced to tears (although it's not clear whether they were of sorrow or laughter), on hearing the sordid truth of the Weekly Wednesday Willie Weigh-in - even when not present, the influence of The Gibson is still strong of a Wednesday eve...
Hunger sated, we headed up to the terrace of the Buckstone Bar to watch the sun go down. No Pimms this year, but much surreal discourse on Arran's Orange Raspberries... The highlight of Matt's evening also occurred, with a barman offering the immortal quote: "I thought runners were supposed to be streamlined!?". To divert attention, Mr Hardie regaled us with his Basic Instinct impression, which fortunately wasn't as horrific as those few, bare words imply.
With the kitty handed to the cyclists so they could head on to the Stables to get the round in, the runners broke for the scenic route up on to the summit of Braids, though Shane decided to take the route more nettled, a choice possibly influenced by his decision to drink pints to everyone else's halves through the evening so far. We weren't blessed with the glorious summit sunshine of last year's run, but it was still grand, and, as is now traditional, we seriously contemplated adding Allermuir, before deciding to simply head for the Stables...
...where the cyclists hadn't arrived... So, we ordered beer anyway, and as the ales foamed, we gathered up our coppers to get the round in at the bar...until the cycling cavalry rode over the horizon in the nick of time to save us!
As usual, with time in hand and the best beer of the run, we tarried awhile at the Stables, quaffing Copper Cascade and Stewart's 80/- to the point where we'd degenerated to the level of attempting a Synchronised Team Vogue, with muchos thigh rubbing, all in honour of Andy, who took it in good humour. It may also have been around this time that the Sheep Heid Hill Reps were proposed - run up Arthur's; back down for a pint; repeat. Watch the Social Page for a date to be determined...
Then it was just the yomp back down to the Braidburn to finish...when...tragedy struck - the pub was closed! So we scattered to our four winds (KB, home, buses and the Old Bell). "Do nothing in haste, look well to each step, and from the beginning consider what may be the end". Damn...if we'd only considered the Braidburn opening times beforehand, we could have ended with a bang, not a Whymper!
Arf, arf, boom, and indeed, tish! Anyways, thanks to all for coming, and hope to see you all for it again next year!
Home | Go
© Carnethy.com 2014