On On: North Ledge, Mundaring Weir
Threat of drizzle started us off, with three runners and the Hare seemingly low on companionship, but high on spirit! (not spirits). It might of been my innate knowledge of the land, or my keen ability to second-guess the Hare’s intentions, or maybe even a tiny ouija board hidden in my undershorts used to surreptitiously gain run information from nearby expired souls, because I managed to check in the right direction for much of the run. Then I tired and walked Home with Frodo.
The rain held off for the entirety of the run, and continued to threaten and drip-drop intermittently after the run, as we huddled boldly around the warming fire.
Free Beer performed an impressive athletic dive onto the dirt to avoid a sudden leaf-fuelled flare up of the flames. Pea Soup did not forthcome, but instead we had delightful treats in a variety of dippy things and breads to be dipped, none of which I have had the pleasure of encountering (except bread, I have tried that on occasion).
Then it got dark and I left.