It had to happen... Rain and autumn and shiggy - such is hashing, especially in this area.
For once a goodly sized bunch of the usual suspects lined up to hear Old Faithful proclaim that the JM’s were both unavailable - Invisible running from Winchester to somewhere and Splasher checking out postcodes in Cornwall. Newcomers were in evidence with young Kimberley (aged 10 and already approaching 2 metres in height) bring father and dog along. They had the misfortune to move in next to Hash Flash and the result was obvious. 3 experienced hashers turned up in a 40 year old Volvo and introduced themselves as Malibog, Malibog aka Kalbo and the Dragon Lady. They were from Sweden or the Philippines or Australia or all three. So without much ado we were off following the trail through the Thicket until the first check. The three newcomers were enquiring as to local rules (rules?) as the check sneaked us behind the trail and into the woods. Another check and Spiderman was way in front splashing through puddles convinced he was on the right scent. Another check and this time it was Bambi who was leaping ahead dragging the pack on at a fair speed. It is a point to note that as we appeared to be moving along with alacrity Miriam and the Doc always seemed to up with frontrunners proving that hashing experience beats fitness and effort every time (at least that is my story and I’m sticking to it). The rain held off with just a drizzle keeping us cool but enough for Carolina (from Brazil) and the Eskimo (from Hungary) to complain about the cold and check how many layers each other was wearing. Carolina especially complaining that the Can Man had forced her to run...
A regroup was in order as the pack began to spread out but after a quick head count we were off into the deepest wooded area, whilst Malibog explained to me that in Sweden they put a colouring dye into the flour to show up in the snow. Not too much snow here but the thought of multi-coloured spots attracts me somehow.......
It seemed that we twisted and turned through the wood only to arrive back at the spot we entered. Bambi mentioned that the false was that way so it must be this... but where were the rest of the pack. It turns out Rasta had given certain members a short cut. So up the hill and we bumped into Whispers, Vicki and some newcomers who had turned up late with stories of closed motorways etc.
Pretty feeble but we let them join in.
So a few more twists and turns and then there was no fooling the pack as they could smell the chariots.
So we came in by dribs and drabs and began to get ready to award the hashit only to find that Treefeller the Can Man were missing. Can Man finally came out of the undergrowth carrying lots of tins.
So after a few nominations Malibog aka Kalbo was awarded the hashit for complaining about crossing a stream. Complain!!! The Splasher would have paid good money to cross such a river.
I would have given it to the Panda who never seems to get untidy or muddy whatever the conditions underfoot, but no such luck.
Warning was given that the night hash would be AT NIGHT and therefore members must bring a torch - Thank You Mr. Maisey we do understand and then on to the Harvester for drinky poos.
A nice wet hash with new members and mud. What more can you ask for?