Run	Date	Hare(s)	Description	MapRef	1:50000	1:25000	1:10000	More
1026	2024-01-21 11:00	Bika & Dead Cowboy	Horndean - Ship & Bell	SU706131

I can assure you that this run report is not written by an AI write bot, never has been, never will, will be, will ever be, trust in me, myself.

We all gathered in congregation at the exterior of the publican's house nominally the shipping and ding donger thing in Horndean Hampshire England. It was atmospherically grey and gloomy, 10 degrees centigrade, 0% precipitation, 955mb, air motion <<unavailable>>.

Our new JMs, well not really new, done it before, 9 years ago, so leg back over the saddle for another ride at the reins of the wild and racy HHH. In any event, they welcomed us, and especially a visitor from Grenada HHH by monica of Haemarroyd, Hemmiroad, Haemorrhoid, yes that's it, who was all shivery skinned and cold turkey for the warm sun.

Kinky challenged us to decode an anagram of the letters S,P,E,I,N, simples for any kind of intelligent person as these are PEINS, PINES, SNIPE, SPINE and, and, and, <<http-404 error>>.

So then we were handing over to the Hares for the important instructioning, one of them, Dead Cowboy, did not say anything because she was not present. The other, Bika^MBE, did tell us that we were playing second fiddle to Portsmouth HHH (PH3), so the marking symbolisations were to their standard and that we ourselves are not to interfere with them on account of them needing to be recycled on the next evening when it will be windy and wet with the appearance of depression Isha.

The dog Aragorn made a real pest of himself by competing with Bika^MBE for our attention, we are in talks with the PM about having the Jack Russel being made a banned breed before there is a massacre of ear drums.

More or less fifteen of us bipeds and three quadrupeds sallied forth to the big white dot mini around and about where many ways are possible actually in fact. Hashers to the four points of the compass, thinly spread, until a thread of a trail became apparent North East up Blendworth Lane towards Cadlington House (Private) and Holy Trinity, on the damp tarmac incline type of surface preparation.

Thence, downhill West, over hip and thigh stretchy stiles on sections of foot pad soft welcoming thick leaf droppings giving way to well trodden grassless bald slithery white chalk mud clay. On this way down to Wisteria Lodge care home, the next stop for some of us perhaps, a fish hook caught Olive Oyl, Haemorrhoid, and Bambi.

So now we were back on London Road, heading to and reaching the white circle mini around and about, before a long and frankly rather boring slog South West on the wide and smooth concrete pavements over the A3M with it's traffic fighting it's way up towards Butser Hill, escaping Portsmouth for Petersfield and the promised land ahead.

No escape for us though, a short hiatus while we took in the remembrance garden for the two young Australian airmen who perished in their Dehavilland Mosquito, which crashed near here in 1945.

Sombre thoughts accompanied us as we wove a path through the houses, some quizzical looks from residents, and Kinky waking them up on a sleepy Sunday afternoon by demonstrating the power of his unpolished and deeply patinad horn blowing instrument device.

We emerged from suburbia into Five Heads Road playing fields, where the Hares thought wrongly that we might enjoy a circumnavigation of periphery, the temptation to cut across proved too strong for a number, not helped by our JM who aided and abetted. Not surprisingly then it was Kinky who led us all by a long way further up Five Heads and East into the as yet undeveloped pastures under a major junction of high voltage marching pylons, where one imagines the air is crackling with energy and radiation and no one has proved that it is in any way unhealthy actually.

With such broad scope a plethora of false trails ensued and were pursued with due diligence, all on the flat, exposed breezy, those checking, more in a mob just chatting and basking in the glow of the wires.

Beneath, Catherington Lith beckoned, and that's where we found regular deposits of the flour and sawdust mixture that the hares were hoping would congeal into a weather resistant yet biodegradable mass. Before we took the plunge down to Lith Lane we held a snaperoony fest in front of the wooden totems and sculptures on the ridge, so much cheese to say, Old Faithful's thumb over lens very annoying, is that a vampire bat or a dragon?.

Slippery steps down down down to Down Road to a fish hook for four, usual names here, before up up up up back to Lith Lane. Bambi remarked that all this was proving a challenge, whereupon Bika^MBE remarked that he thought it would all prove too easy for PH3, seeing as how young and whippersnappery they all are.

Not much left now, only one way back to the other side of the A3M, through the under tunnel pavements routing, to get to the On-In after one hour and ten minutes of eclectic hashing.

We circled up in the car park next to the Fire Station, plenty of warm lager left over from hangover do, fizz goes up your nose, good for sinuses.

Down downs for The Hare, Haemorrhoid, Old Faithful twice at least, short cutting camera abuse, something else .. and others that escaped my jotter and synapses. We gave the Hash-It to Old faithful, obviously, before retiring to the Ship and Bell where we drank warm ale and coffee, chatted, and noticed that in the public bar there are tables not reserved for diners and more flat screen TVs than actual windows actually.

On! - On! Bambi

Bambi's track
... AND ... photos by Bambi and Old Faithful

From Spiderman:
PS Thoughts are with the Tims on the passing of Deer Hunter / Martie our hash doggie chum for many years.