Smuggler's Virgin Trail
In the early afternoon the sun shone,* Loved the tip 'The name of the pub for the beer-stop has 'Keizer' in it' - then there were 2 pubs opposite each other, both with Keizer in the name!
But it did not actually shine in Tervuren,
The Hash arrived well turned out and happy,
But just then the weather turned rather crappy.
Behind the museum the trail came and went,
Driven by the marks or representations thereof that also came and went,
So people arrived in places without knowing how,
Head scratching took place which sprinkled even more sawdust around.
By the pools we went checking out all with our usual flair,
Seeing descendants of ibises from the eighteen-ninety-seven World Fair,
The coots, mallards, moorhens might as well have been plucked,
As for the right direction we were just flummoxed. << or something.
The towered forest kept its secrets well within along its walks,
This also applied to the newly manufactured 'Secret Chalk,'
But the well named Pink in those 300 metre visible pink pants,
Who gave us false trail following lost souls another chance.
The trail was eventually picked up once more,
By some rather large rocks that Mick Mac has evidently used before,
We then found Hot to Trot being pulled along by her beagle,
But didn't ask if said hound had on the marks had a wheedle.
The Keizerskroon* provided a warm and welcome beer-stop,
Outlasting the actual run by same actual time unknown,
Then to the circle beneath the luckily clean Elephant's Bum,
Till the oncoming of the twilight forced us all home.