A nice bright day greeted a bunch of happy hashers at Forestside. The pack had taken over a roadside grassy area and were happily looking around for the hills - nothing in sight so a cheerful pack heard a brief welcome back to the pack for Lorrainne who had not been seen for ten years (that must have been one hell of a falsie) and then the JM (yes only one present) passed us on to the hares who just indicated that we should get on with it. So down the road and across the fields and it did not take long to find the hills we had been looking for. The pack tumbled down the first hill and then gathered around chatting whilst a few brave souls ran back and forth checking anything that resembled UP. After a while the brave souls in question began to realise that they were all alone as the rest of the pack had taken a back check and were miles ahead.
Catching up the trail looked like it headed for the road but a sneaky trail led around a field and then up yet again. A steep climb and the front runners began to see the back markers moving along a trail at the bottom of the hill. Being sneaky they ran down the hill (shame on you Hornblower) only to find Robin (the younger) had zoomed uphill on the true trail. The pack were reluctant to follow (well it was uphill) but in the end they accepted the hill climb with good grace (if you call moaning all the way good grace) and arrived at the next check to find that Robin had not only reached the next check but checked it out and was away to the next check (we did not see him again until the end).
So onward and ever onward and it was noted that noon had come and gone and still we were a long way from home. The normal blistering race pack of the Chichester Hash began to fade as all hopes of a short run were dashed.
Hashers were heard to mention that the chariots were ‘just over there’ on more than one occasion. The pack came upon the old Stansted Slog course and felt we knew where we were. However as we all gathered at the next check the hares again turned us away from the chariots. As we choked back tears of disappointment some desperate souls began to hint at ‘short cuts’.
Across a field and across the road until the On In was spotted. The pack finally struggled in to find that Robin the younger had finished the run, changed and was on his bike preparing to go home. Although this would have been enough to earn him the hashit he narrowly avoided this fate due to the fact that he was not there to be presented with the trophy!! So after JM Sweaty Butterfly nominated nearly everybody present including herself the pack was left with only one option - they were going to give it to a Robin come hell or high water and so the other Robin would have to do. The Can Man looked puzzled at receiving the accolade but accepted it with good humour.
A long hash but a good run in an area that we do not use too much.