A good sized pack assembled in the sunshine at Petworth Park for the first run under the new masters. The pack was put in order and The Can Man said that the staff at the park were happy to have us there (fools) but don’t frighten the deer by running past them at speed (in other words - no overtaking). We set off into the park and understood in a minute that this trail had been laid by ‘frugal McDougall’ when it came to flour. There were those who claimed to have seen some during the run but it may have just been frost. In fact the first three checks were laid in sawdust - so much for the flour!
We set off across the park passing through the checks (cos we could not see them!) and headed uphill. The trial led us towards the house and then up to a long hill where Bambi stormed ahead until he ran out of flour to follow. However going by the age old adage of ‘hashing is always uphill’ we kept on going and at the top of the hill Sinbad found a check. The exhausted pack wheezed up the hill and were much relieved to find that The Can Man had decided to give a lecture about the history of the location. Apparently he thought it a good idea to build this viewing point on the hill so that the ladies of the day could watch him gallop about and slaughter the wildlife. It sound like the privileged of the day posing and behaving badly in front of the assembled watching airheads (a kind of Celebrity Big Brother condensed into a single day - so no change there then).
However we had to move on and we charged down the hill midst the deer looking for a check. Whoever thought that putting a check of flour down in a deer park full of hungry deer he day before was a good idea? The hares had to give us a clue and yes it was again upward. The Gnu and The Eskimo surged ahead for the ladies but Mussolini decided that the easy thing to do was just short cut. However not only did he shortcut to the front of the pack but he then led them down a trail with no flour. Not only did this trail not have any flour but the true trail had no check! Vladimir solved this by crossing his arms and declaring ‘Czech here!’ (well he is from Prague so it was at least accurate). We followed a rough trail and at last Sinbad spotted flour. Following with our noses to the ground we spied Tigger and Resta the Rasta in the distance and the cry ‘On In’ went up.
A short while later we gathered around to hear the JMs awarding of the hashit.
The Ref (force of habit) pulled out his little book and reeled off the misdemeanours. With two nominations apiece it was either Bambi or your Humble Scribe who were to be awarded the hashit. Sweaty Butterfly then produced a coin to decide (what kind of leadership is that?) but she was not much good at tossing so The Ref did it as he has more experience. I was the loser. I then informed the pack that it was my birthday and that on the last two occasions my birthday fell on a Sunday I also got it. Every seven years it a bit much it has got to stop!! On Well not until 2013.