My sister Jo and I were brought up by 2 fantastic parents who loved Rogaining. At least 4 times a year mum and dad would pack us up into our Mitsubishi Van along with our older sister and sometimes friends down the road and off we would go to the Rogaine site. Little did we know then just 6,8 and 10 that while we played in the near by creek or climbed the biggest boulder we could fine close to the Hash house that mum and dad were preparing for a 6, 12 or 24 hour race.
We built cubbies out of tree branches and grass trees, made castles of bones, dug holes and had muddy baths and evaded our carers until mum and dad returned from there event, usually when the last 5 minute hooter sounded, mum and dad along with their partners would be running or hobbling in.
After blisters were seen to and fresh clothes put on our family would then help pack up the Rogaining equipment tents ands head home.