Run 455 - 15th July 2001 - 100 Acres Wood, West Walk

A large pack gathered at the wood to find that they had to pay 1 for the privilege of parking there! So dues paid the pack basked in the sun ready for the off on this midsummer hash day. Barty junior (male version, joint master in waiting a few years on no doubt) decided to celebrate the midsummer occasion by cracking his head on the boot of dads car. Personally I think that Hash Cash had decided to slow him down a bit - foul play was suspected.
However before the pack was given the off we were all given the sad news that Phil Spooner, our friend and founder had died on Thursday the 12th of July. A one minute silence was held before the pack was away. (See accompanying sheet for information.)
The trail led us through the undergrowth and then onto well trodden trials to the first check. It would appear to the innocent observer that when there is a full pack, the workload is shared and everybody gets to do equal checks and it makes for an easy run. This is ruined by a couple of points.
1) Hashers are incredibly stupid and manage to find false trails where there are none increasing the workload tenfold and 2) these hares were particularly devious running us around the trails with many twists turn and back checks. Things were not helped by the fact that they were laying with flour and this meant that it is easier to carry and therefore the falsies were longer than expected (just a couple of notes for Mussolini and Old Faithful - 100 metres is approximately 100 steps and you are not meant to have a true trail off of a false one). However as the pack never follow the rules why should the hares?
Our webmaster Bruce seemed to have a run of good luck being at the front for quite a few checks but true to form the trail soon turned us all around with many checks and even the pleasure of leaving the normal trails to tramp through the woodland itself.
We came upon a small stream which to Simons disappointment was too shallow for paddling so I did the best thing by pushing the first hasher into what there was but it doesnt really compare with Simons usual impressions of the elephants bath time. We all milled around for a while looking disinterested until we realised that it could be a back check and then off we went again. The pack seemed to be moving well with even the slowest moving at a reasonable pace which brought us near the finish with couple of obvious paths to follow but of course they were wrong (not that it stopped our Hash Cash and Shades Colgate short cutting to one of the last checks). With the scent of the chariots in our nostrils the cry off On Inn was heard and the pack trudged up the hill back to the extortionate car park.
The barbecue was at Chez Dowdell in Bedhampton where Rasta Pru and a band of helpers had been preparing the feast.
The fish had grown considerably since we were here last. The raffle was of course the high point of the day with The Can Mans Polish imports scooping the bulk of the prizes (insider information?). Young Alice was awarded the hashit as she asked to be awarded it (and who will carry it next time?) and on to filling our bellies, with Linda trotting from table to table in the hope of scraps. Linda, Susannas dog, not Linda our pack member. A good run, well laid by the devious masters.
Humble Scribe