The hares had stepped in at the last minute and so we were expecting a hot potch of a trail but no, these two experienced hashers did us proud. After greeting newcomer Zowie and then having a few words from the JMs we were told by the hares that it was flat and dry. This made us look northward towards the hills around the Trundle and upward at the clouds above. Who could blame us? When was the last time a hare told the truth? However it was mostly true. We set off up the road and through an alleyway and then across a muddy but flat field to bring us out near Lavant House School. There were a couple of falsies but the trail led us along the roadway encountering our first horse. This should have been called the Equine Hash as we did encounter a few of these fine creatures during the run. We had been warned not to shout and alarm them so hands signals and whispers were the order of the day. This suited Francis very well as she said that her hangover could not stand a lot of shouting. This made me pose a couple of questions to myself - Should a lady ever have a hangover? Was it an admission of failure that a hasher had a hangover? However she did still do the run so hash tradition was upheld (and she managed to get down the pub afterwards). We had another couple of checks and then after passing through a field where Beaker insisted on waking up a snoozing donkey, we came to a road opposite an open field.
The pack checked out and the trail went back towards the chariots which made even the laziest hasher perk up a bit. Again though the wily hares had us all going down the wrong road towards Lavant Village Hall but a couple of sceptical souls found the true trail leading back to Centurian Way. By now the pack had decided that this was the way home and at the last check all but one (yours truly and stupidly) chose the correct trail and found the On In. It would have been found a bit quicker had Dr. Blood sang out instead of keeping it to himself. A few minutes more and the pack were back at the chariots. The Ref pulled out his little book and Sweaty Butterfly delivered the verdict.
Humble Scribe.
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