What can be more perfect than a leisurely run in the company of friends through beautiful countryside on a summers day?. Well, if that run also takes in several pubs, a Devon cream tea and a music / beer festival with 40 real ales then you can point me at the sky.

The Harriers travelled to Devon and set up base at Axe Farm camp site, an ideal venue due to its excellent facilities and friendly atmosphere. The fact that "The Harbour" pub is right next door only adds to its appeal. My arrival on site coincided with the setting up of a Harriers base camp, Mike Hughes was having some difficulty with his erection, but with a helping hand from Helen, Mike was able to successfully get it up.

As with any social group, a hierarchy evolved, this centred around Andy and Julie Hennigans magnificent edifice - to call it a tent would be an insult. It was the " South Fork " of the camp site. Andy and Julie shared with the ever elegant Pete and Barbara Coutts, and a rumour that they were the hired help was soon circulating among the common folk.
The legendary Terry Cutler arrived on site with his son Soren, they set up camp next to a family of itinerant musicians called the Woolls, Peter and Dawn, who were accompanied by an undergraduate student Sara, reportedly on a field trip to study tribal behaviour under the influence of alcohol.

After a Friday night session in the "Harbour" with Kevin launder, John Mac and Terri, I was ambling back across the field when I bumped into Bob and Maureen Barnett who had traveled down in a VW Camper van. Bob and Maureen where enthusiastically discussing their plans to transform their VW van. Painting the bodywork with psychedelic flowers and the fitting of a wood burning stove were their first priority, and I was sworn to secrecy as they showed me the matching Bandanas and Khaftans they were planning to wear on their trip to Glastonbury this year.
The Friday evening was rounded off with an impromptu session in the musicians tent, with Peter and Dawn on guitar accompanied by Juliets dog "Lulu" and Kevin "Satchmo" Launder, whos snoring like a chainsaw was to keep our corner of the site awake for most of the night.

Saturday morning saw the Harriers catering corps swing into action and we were soon tucking in to a full english breakfast with all the trimmings, there was more than enough for everyone. As the last of the plates was being dried, and the cutlery polished and put away, with immaculate timing Geoff Scott and Heather arrived on site. As Heather was helping Geoff to unpack his portable steam iron, trouser press, toiletries and various hair care essentials, we noticed a pair of binoculars concealed in the glove compartment. After being threatened with having his comb confiscated Geoff admitted to having watched the proceedings from a vantage point overlooking the camp site, only arriving once all the work had been done.

The sun was warm on our bodies as we made our way alongside the river and into Seaton where groups of runners, walkers and supporters were gathering outside the Hook and Parrot, the more experienced of us were taking the opportunity for some last minute training pints before the off.

At 12:17 Dave Kelf rang the bell that sent us on our way and a cheering horde set off towards the first pub en route. There was much banter and good spirits as we gathered around a drink laden table in the beer garden of the Harbour. We travelled on from pub to pub, through fields bejewelled with summer flowers along woodland tracks, through field and vale until the haunting melodies of Celtic music led us to Shangri La - the Fountain Head. I could have stayed all day, indeed some did!. John Mac and Ian Edwards had arrived earlier and were shocked to be told that they were "Proper Runners " being the first ones through. Three pints later and thankfully the burden had been passed on to others, Mike Hughes leading Andy Hennigan astray. It was only after the run that Andy found out that Mike had promised Helen that he would be back by 5:30,and that it was usual to take things a lot easier.

Arriving back at the Hook and Parrot we sat in the warm evening sunshine, supping pints and chatting to runners from other clubs before ambling back to our camp site via the chip shop. The rest of the evening has a vague dream like quality, probably due to the cream in the scones being ever so slightly off and the cramp in my legs made them unsteady so I thought it wise to make my way back to my tent and into my sleeping bag where I slept the sleep of the just, interrupted only by the sound of a chainsaw from Kevins tent.

Sunday morning saw a full contingent of Harriers enjoying a full english before striking camp and heading back to Dorset. At a short stop for refreshment at the "Worlds End" we reflected on a great week end, certainly one to pencil in for next year.