A surprisingly large pack gathereed at the top of the hil next to Benges Wood, full of good intentions and new year resolutions (I will run every other Sunday).
Two newcomers Bika and Katherine joined the merry throng to hear the JMs launch their first hash and then hand over to the hares who gave the usual lies and told us to be good girls and boys crossing the big nasty road.
This first task completed we managed to find the flour and trudge up the muddy path to find the first check. It seemed to go on some time but there it was - the check. The logical thing to do here was to veer off into the forest instead of just plodding on up the trail but old and wise hashers new better than that so a group of us ignored the obvious trail and carried on up the hill until we were called back as the rest of the pack had gone on the obvious (and correct) trail.
Not daunted the pack regrouped and moved on to the next check where it was to be said , everybody took a turn at checking it out and hunting down the trails.
It was muddy but nothing that a tough hasher could not handle. However as we are not tough hashers there were a few moans about getting shoes dirty. Miss Barty was again seen applying lipstick en route. Another check and Patch was bounding off into the distance showing off his keenness and youth followed closely by Bambi who was showing off his keenesss and ... well his keenness. The pack came out back on to the trail again on the upward march to the summit. Upon reaching the top of the hill we had a quick regroup as the mist had come down and we could not see all of the pack, we wanted to get our bearings and most importantly of all we were exhausted! ! !
This is the drawback from having hares who are fit and proper runners - marathon runners - triatheletes - Americans (well one American) `cos they like things big over there especially the trails and the hills!!!
Regrouped we were off again with Mussolini sure of the way as he knows these woods like the back of his hand. Unfortunately he does not know the back of his hand very well and we all went wrong. Coming across a family out for a nice Sunday walk they were nearly press ganged into joining the pack but escaped with a promise to meet us another day.
AS we were all beginning to get tired and The Can Man's ten year old granddaughter putting most people to shame it was a relief to find ourselves within earshot of the road once more. This time Mussolini knew he was right and began sprinting (hashers may be unaware of this word, it means to run fast) up the hill and shortly yelled ON IN. Not that this means much when he calls but on this occasion it was not a joke but hard fact and in a few more minutes the car park was full of tired and muddy hashers.
The JMs gathered the pack around and began their new regime by calling out all of those nominees for the hashit into the centre. This did not take more than a couple of hours and in what seemed like the twinkle of an eye the hash were in the George at Eartham.
An excellent and well laid hash. Thanks to the hares.