A typical overcast autumn day found a reasonable sized pack (the pack being a reasonable size, not the individual members) assemble at the Graffham Recreation Ground.
So somewhat cheered up the pack set off looking for flour (although it had been explained that twigs, piles of leaves or even dappled sunlight may also have been used).
The first three of 4 checks were well spaced out and soon the pack began to splinter.
At the end of the first day there was a regroup as the pack was going to go deep into the wood.
It has been asked what does Pancsi (Our JMs hash name) mean? It is a Hungarian expression that describes the playful and futile splashing a baby in a baby bath makes. We came to a river and Pancsi gave a perfect demonstration by splashing into said river. Hashers never grow up they just get bigger (usually around the waist).
Another regroup and by now the pack were losing heart as it was nearly 12 noon and the hares had told everybody that we were almost halfway. Some foolish creatures laughed at the joke but those with maps informed them that this was no joke.
Buster had taken the wise option and stayed in the car but the rest of the pack struggled around. The first regroup spot was revisited and then the far distant smell of chariot wafted through the air. Although there were another 7 checks the game was up and the pack seemed to know where they were going (there’s a first).
A few hours later and the pack tumbled in to the car park to thank the hares and then listen to nominations. Hash Flash was awarded the hashit for climbing over a fence whilst Old Faithful just opened the gate next to it and walked through. The hares then exchanged the falsie tickets for prizes which ranged from bottles of wine, tins of sardines to biotic fruit drinks.
Wet but happy the pack retired to the pub. Well done hares for a scenic and interesting run Humble Scribe