So it was agreed that the Harriers End of Term run would again grace the Comrie countryside after a number of previously successful forays into this veritable Garden of Eden. The only snake observed, however, carries a camera as well as offering temptation to women.
So those from Crieff make the shirt trip to Laggan Park in Comrie where the Comrie Section of the Harriers awaits with scarcely-concealed excitement. Or is that excrement?
Completing his shift as part of the Comrie Volunteer Dog Warden Team, a stalwart of the Club demonstrates the correct technique for disposing of dog poo. The correct positioning of the left hand on left hip whilst holding the bag with limp right wrist is regarded by experts in the field as all-important in achieving a 10/10 score from the world-renowned Dog Poo Disposal judges. The National Dog Poo Championships surely beckon.
In the nearby car park, a callow youth expresses his feelings at being in the company of a renowned paramedic - one credited with saving countless lives through her bravery, daring and skilled hands. The youth secretly pines for a non-fatal accident so he might also be rescued.
In his eagerness to achieve, our energetic Dog Warden fails to spot he has entered his car in the wrong category at the nearby Commercial Vehicles Show. Having a Jaguar, he misunderstood when he entered this section labelled 'CAT' for the US Company Caterpillar and its products. No matter, his vehicle won 'Best Executive Tractor' category anyway.
Another Harriers' member makes an even more potentially disastrous error when snatching the parking place normally reserved for the Road Roller. As the driver of the RR returns to reclaim his space, the Harrier narrowly averts a crushing defeat by speeding off across the grass to safety. Her driving in this trying situation however is, as always, impeccable. We are indeed fortunate to count her amongst our willing Club taxi drivers.
Demonstrating that perhaps the Ladies have something to learn from our prospective Champion Dog Warden, one shows off her prowess at dog poo picking. 'Room for improvement' is the general view though the judges warmly commend the lady for her efforts and comment favourably on the delicacy of the toe use.
So the masses gather. The host of runners seen off by the Halt and the Lame. The healthy ones mingle freely with the injured, oblivious of the virus that is The Harriers' Curse. Let us hope that none of the fit succumb to THC before the day is out. Our Dog Warden expresses his concern whilst his dog doesn't.
So the run begins. In no time at all, young men and elite women gather at a vantage point to swap bets on the time it will take the laggards to complete The Devil's Staircase up to their location. One knowledgable Dog Warden shows his superiority by taking a short cut.
Finally, the others heave into view, convinced the Devil did indeed build the torture that is The Staircase. No matter; the Dog Warden awaits smugly at the Junction.
Joining together again, the sheepdog ensures that all the animals are safely shepherded up the hill towards the glorious vistas that are Glen Lednock. And the next hill that our Beloved Leader speaks of as miniscule and of no account. Ho hum.
So our merry band traverses the first hilltop, swathed in trees, and makes the treacherous descent into the Glen proper will skill and aplomb. Our paramedic is delighted there is (so far) no call on her myriad of skills.
Our Beloved Leader, sister to Dr Hill Fairy of renown, shows she is modest in her view of her own downhilling skills by floating effortlessly through the air towards the gate. No-one felt it wise to say that the gate is nicknamed 'Oblivion'.
Last, but by no stretch of the imagination the least, our resolute Dog Warden strides effortlessly down towards 'Oblivion'. He knows that beyond 'Oblivion' lies the milk-and-honey land that is (for a while anyway) - flat.
As the happy band progresses onwards, the dogs encounter the bridge where, legend has it, the original Troll lives. The smaller dog is not seen after this point for some time, causing some anxiety that the story might have a smidgen of truth after all.
Bringing up the rear of the group (so to speak), Our Beloved Leader wonders if our Dog Warden might be rambling a little. She uses sign language to alert the rest of the group. The object of her signal merely casts his eyes down and tries to hide the woman's knickers he holds. No-one dares ask where they originated.
Having conquered the world-renowned Glen Lednock Shaky Bridge, the group is puzzled by the sudden absence of the Dog Warden. Even Our Glorious leader is perplexed. Eventually the group decides it couldn't care less where he is really and continue their implacable course towards Maam and all who sail in her.
The group then fearlessly tackle the obstacle that stands between them and more hill running. The youth grimaces in pain at the effort he made climbing three stairs whilst the paramedic double checks the edifice for the ladies using her comprehensive Health & Safety Guidelines knowledge. As copies of this moment circulate throught the world's press, questions are being asked about the identity of this fearless contributor to health and efficiency.
Finally, all is pronounced safe and well and the remaining ladies make their trepidacious way forwards. The dog realises its job is done for the moment though the youngster in the party seems not best pleased at this apparent canine desertion from duty.
So the party makes it way through the tick-infested jungle that is Glen Lednock and onto the broad highway that leads to Maam. At a convenient point where our Leader can make a head count, the small dog reappears, the youngster confesses himself knackered, our paramedic demonstrates mid-point stretching exercises, the youth pluckily follows these and the Bag Lady arrives with bags intact. Our Leader briefly shows the strain that leadership entails. She will come through it skilfully however.
As the group heads back towards lunch, there is uncertainty that the supposed road that is Maam is where the group actually is. Nonetheless, the lack of four lanes of tarmac does not deter the happy band from posing happily in front of nature. The dogs show respectively impatience to get going and a willingness to bite the legs of the laggards.
Across an almost impenetrable barrier, our paramedic and our youngster awaited the remaining runners. It seems easy to completely misunderstand the youngster's pose so we encourage our readers not do so, of course.
And so our happy band returned down the real road that traverses Glen Lednock and were reunited at Laggan Park. The sight of a heavy load-carrying unit greeted the runners, as well as a lorry and a dog. All was well at last.
Finally, to a well-earned lunch at Comrie Golf Club where the runners were joined by the non-runners, including a member planning to become a mother - apparently in about the next five minutes. (In the event, the happy event was nearly three days later so we need not have worried). A jolly time was had by all and, replete with the all best comestibles that Comrie Golf Club could offer, the group vowed to do it all again next Term. Maybe....
Completing his shift as part of the Comrie Volunteer Dog Warden Team, a stalwart of the Club demonstrates the correct technique for disposing of dog poo. The correct positioning of the left hand on left hip whilst holding the bag with limp right wrist is regarded by experts in the field as all-important in achieving a 10/10 score from the world-renowned Dog Poo Disposal judges. The National Dog Poo Championships surely beckon.
In the nearby car park, a callow youth expresses his feelings at being in the company of a renowned paramedic - one credited with saving countless lives through her bravery, daring and skilled hands. The youth secretly pines for a non-fatal accident so he might also be rescued.
