Darkness becomes the city of Devonport, and in fact who doesn't look good wearing black with fluorescent coloured stripes? It was a balmy evening with a generous pack and a crescent moon overhead.
Trail ricocheted around the streets and the walking track, taking a dive up a ring-stretching street and back down through the less salubrious addresses before heading back to the foreshore trail and home. With minimal prompting, there was an attempt to see how many hashers would stack uncomfortably in a phone booth and who could stay on top the longest.
On On back to Eagle's nest where Mabel had slaughtered a brace of hamburgers and hunted down a flock of coleslaws to satisfy the hungry hashers' voracious appetites.
Wearing his other hat (or sock as is the Devonport Hash Custom), Mabel then conducted a tidy lippery with plenty of downs and a bare minimum of tantrums (thanks Dint).
The raffle was as always wrigged with fabulous prizes and unsuspecting sponsors, with Tandem scoring the major prize a pair of velcro gloves, and Fanny May brazenly making off with the Cowboy.
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