A very, very foggy night where visibility was down to a few yards, saw a group of around 15 runners set off up towards Strines Ridge. The group split into two, we think as the next count only realised 11 superbly toned athletes the old scroats having disappeared off the back somewhere. Not to worry, they'd had a good innings. The remaining group headed for the packhorse bridge and Pike Lowe for the whisky stop. A strange night as we could see absolutely bugger all for most of the time but, as was pointed out, this was a standard warts run and we "should all have our map and compasses at the ready all the time!" Mr Harmer we present at the beginning but his mum's sick note was still current and we found him duly wobbling in the pub afterwards. The usual split ensued towards the end and our World class orienteers, Pete and Lucy managed to get lost by following a map, the rest of us who went on "instinct" (note, not Ash whose directional instincts, as we know are somewhat lacking) and local knowledge were well into our first pint before the aforementioned appeared. Worth noting that we were blessed by an appearance of an ex wart, Dave Holmes, who appeared in the pub afterwards, at least he remembers this old tradition.