First of my thanks to Mr. Bean who took over the scribes position whilst I was unwell. Such a good job that I believe my redundancy notice is in the post.
A cold, wet and windy Sunday in Bognor did not bring forth a huge amount of hashers, just a few dedicated lunatics who appreciate the British winter.
Whilst we all stood there in our tracksuits and winter gear ready to peel off into our racing apparel it became clear that enthusiasm was not going to be high for this one.
Even one of the hares was unshaven trying to get a bit of extra warmth around the facial regions.
A brief discussion about the weather and we were off through the wilds of Hotham Park (nobody actually stripping down to racing attire). Old Faithful tried to run along the railway tracks but we thought that even off season that may not be a good idea. The trail led us around the park and down past Butlins (where some escape committee members were trying to get out dressed as holiday makers) to the seafront. I think that the word ‘bracing’ just about fits the bill here.
It was hard to find the trail here but the hares gave a clue or two and we just about managed it.
The hares were being as helpful as they could but it was hard to raise the level of enthusiasm when your euphemisms are freezing off.
We crossed a main road which at least gave us a rough idea of where we were and then the trail then doubled back into the housing estates around Felpham and Bognor leading out onto a football field with a large path around it which put The Can Man in seventh heaven. The litter louts of Bognor had carefully strewn their lager cans in a pretty avant garde pattern across the trail leaving him with a task and a half of collecting the same.
So when we managed to drag him away the trail began to head into another housing estate where the hares pointed out the beauty of the back of the LEC Refridgeration factory and other beauty spots of Bognor.
By now the pack was beginning to scent chariot and before long the A259 hove into view and shortly afterwards the ON INN was spotted.
The pack managed to scramble in double quick and only Bambi decided to change as the others just gathered around for a quick awarding of the hashit.
This was given to Hash Flash for running in shorts proving that hashers are, as we all know, not over blessed with thinking matter.
The bulk of the pack then scurried off to the Fox in Felpham where we went in ‘87, or was it ‘88?