Virgin Territory now there is a phrase that you do not hear very often in the Chichester pack. After 20 years of running around aimlessly we thought that we had run everywhere but all of a sudden Torchy surprises us and comes up with a copse in the middle of nowhere! We began to gather and spent time doing 3 (or in some cases 10) point turns to head back down the lane when we were all done. The hares let us all waste our time and then told us that the lane had two ends and we could just carry on and turn right to take us back to the pub. On such a nice day we could not bear any grudges and after a brief word from the only JM present, the hares told the usual lies and we were off. However the hares incurred the wrath of the JM almost immediately for having a check within sight of the chariots! A couple of falsies and the pack were soon on the trail. Your Humble Scribe taking part as walking wounded found that it was possible to keep up with the pack. This means that (a) recovery is in sight (b) the hares had laid such a brilliant trail that the pack was kept together (c) the Chichester pack are not the finely honed athletes that we had been led to believe guess which? The trail went in a vaguely clockwise direction crossing a road where there was a regroup. After looping around the forest and back across the road the hash then had a p group (like a regroup but near a toilet). A couple of ladies took advantage of this and whilst they were inside the pack ran off and left them. It didnít work they found the pack again and caught up just in time to come back to the same place as it had been a big loop. A small boy watching all of this had kicked away his football to watch these strange yellow beings shouting and stomping through the undergrowth as it was obviously more fun than kicking a football and/or his small sister.
Back through the copse and then a check where the hares gave a choice to tired hashers. Wimps, wounded and wasted hashers were given the opportunity for a shortcut to the chariots and tough, rugged, hardened hashers were back on the trail for another loop. So sensible headed on in and the macho boys and girls did the full course. A pleasant run through a new area with the pack kept together well done those hares. Back to the pub where the most bejewelled barman ever seen took our orders.
Oh well On On.