A goodly sized crowd by recent standards gathered on a strangely dry and sunny August Bank Holiday. No Masters being present at the allotted hour the hares were forced to introduce themselves. It's tough going on without a warm up act. Then half way through their routine the warm up act arrives in the Spoonermobile and rushes on to the stage, whip in hand demanding to know whats been said already. The hares, managing to survive this interruption, continued to inform us .... well not much realy, just that the trail was self raising.
The on out was a definite do it yourself job with hounds in all directions at the start. Soon however we found ourselves heading north down the road towards the Green and the first check by the pond. Ah yes the pond. Sadly I was so far out in front of the field by the time the main group reached the pond that I was not able to witness the attempt made by Dave and Pete to propel Simon into the water. From here the trail followed the footpath along the north side of the pond and out southeast across straw baled fields before heading north and out on to Mill Lane again east of the pond. A regroup was needed here to let the pond worshipers catch up. East along the lane and then up the steep slope on the north side and into Goldballs Plantation. Who was this Goldballs person ? How did he come by that name ? why did he plant so many trees ? was his first name Ivor ? Meanwhile back on the hash, we were all confused by the plethora of falsies at the top of the slope, so much so that another regroup was called. From here still heading north we came by and by to a Pete tempting watchtower at which the official shortcut started. Most didn't take the easy option and followed the on on through what must be the only soggy boggy bit of shiggy still around after this long hot dry summer, just kidding and checking that you are still awake. Now we were heading southwest and obviously back towards the beer and out on to the lane again and a check that would have had us stumped had we not seen one of the official shortcutters (Mike) kindly opening the gate to an unmarked footpath heading straight home. This lead to a virtual sprint through the field which was layed out in rows of stubble which we crossed like hurdles every second stride, a bit like a steeplechase. There was a mini regroup after the sprint, and then we found the on in. All over in one hour and ten minutes.
And the nominations were; Dave/Paul for failing to chuck Simon into the pond, three nominations of the Venerable Master for being late, Louise for not bringing Jill, and me for guessing the first 5 checks correctly. And the winner was me.
ON-ON Jan H.