Phew! What a scorcher! As the tabloids would say. A wonderful sunny day saw the usual suspects gather at the top on the hill on the A285 ready to see what these two wily old hares had in store for us.
Not to much preamble just time to mock a broken down Porsche (doesn’t it make us all smug when a £60,000 car breaks down), welcome back Swollen Colon and allow The Panda and Miss Perfect time to change and rearrange T shirts and tops due to some fashion experiment that the rest off us where confused by.
So off we went across the road and into the shade at an alarming rate. Well I say alarming as the most alarming thing about it was that nobody seemed to break into a run and just took it nice and easy.
The first check was soon handled with ease as was the second but then at the third when we had, we thought, a choice of two trails the hares had taken us ‘off road’ and there we were scurrying around the undergrowth looking for flour.
The trail seemed to be a large circle in a clockwise direction with occasional forays into the undergrowth to slow done the fast front runners ( in case anybody has missed it, that comment was supposed to be ironic).
However with Hornblower bounding ahead for the chariots the pack tumbled back to the car park to find Treefeller had been offering condolences to the Porsche owner (who deserved his predicament for being an capitalist lackey rubbing his wealth in noses of honourable hashers).
So we gathered around and hear nominations for shortcutting, insults, Dr. Blood being on the phone trying to save somebody’s life at the hospital (call that an excuse?) and the like; and then your Humble Scribe was given the hashit for mentioning that due to the pace of the run we should be Chichester Hash House Ramblers. We live in a world without justice.
It was decided that as nearly everybody is on holiday, next time the run would be rearranged for three weeks time not two. A great run, a fine day an excellent pack. Well done hares.