The last time three ladies got together it was ‘Hubble, Bubble, Toil and Trouble etc., and this run proved that their skills had not diminished. The recipe was; take one wet weekend, some slushy mud underfoot and heather to hide spots of flour in and you have - one confusing hash!
We all turned up to be met by the sight of both JMs in attendance and also newcomers Dagmar and Mike. A quick preamble and then the hares led us off - yes I do mean LED. We had hopes of a fully escorted hash but after only a few yards we were taken across the road and left to our own devises. It appeared that Tigger was just performing her role as ‘Tufty Club’ crossing guard ((If you don’t remember the Tufty Club then lucky you!
We found the first check and all spread out. It was nice to see Derek back from injury as he went bounding down the trail (but in the wrong direction) leaving Sinbad to find the real trail.
On into open areas but with heather all aound dots are hard to find. Paul had brought his final offspring into the fray and for a while he led the way chasing down the dots but hashing being what it is, it was not long before the first shall be last etc.
We kept getting twisted and turned around and it was noted that the falsies were very long indeed (but I suppose that is what you get when you have not two but three hares!). It was also a bit disheartening to see short cutting walkers and their dogs keep appearing from time to time just to rub it in that you had gone wrong and there really was a shorter way!
After a few more evil turns I became more confident as we passed a trail where Tigger had laid a falsie only two years ago and I was sure that as hashers are not noted for creativity and inspiration that we would go down the same path. This led to me taking a falsie in completely in the wrong direction whilst the pack disappeared into the distance.
The trail seemed to be heading back to the road as we heard the sound of traffic. A checkpoint was reached and we all went off in different directions to find the elusive trail.
Paul went off on a long falsie, so did Bambi and Old Faithful but no trail was true.
Another trail was found but the Can Man said that he had checked it and it was false.
A back check perhaps?
Still no trail. After even more head scratching than usual the hares seemed to be drawn to the trail that the Can Man had checked and after one intrepid explorer decided to recheck it, the call of ON In was heard. The pack was shocked, stunned and amazed that such a wily old hasher had got it wrong and steered us away from the true path.
The pack stumbled back into the chariot park and gathered for deliberations about who should get the hashit. It did not take long before the pack decided to a man (and woman) that The Can Man was indeed guilty and awarded him the trophy that proved his shame. He gracefully knelt to receive it but then had trouble getting up due to great age and infirmity. However as the hash is no respecter of age and wisdom, he was left to stumble to his feet whilst the pack retired to The Hamilton Arms for drinks. A nice wet hash in beautiful countryside - Well Done hares. On On!