Since Humble Scripe is unable to keep up with the pack due to injury Bambi has augmented his report. So we get two reports for the price of one!
Gospel according to Humble ScribeAs we sat waiting for the start a feeling of foreboding overtook us. Not the usual feeling of foreboding that signifies the beginning of the hash but a deeper one as it was pouring with rain.
However I had not accounted for hashers lack of brain as lots of the pack turned up including not only the two newcomers from last time Heidi and Lydia but a further two entrants.
The trail was to be laid by your Humble Scribe but due to being a cripple, Mussolini had stepped into the breach to be assisted by Miss Perfect who unfortunately came down with the lurgee (which she managed to pass to me over the ‘phone) and JM Godiva did the decent thing and became the unhappy stand in.
So of the pack went with Bambi going in completely the wrong direction and the rest of the pack went around the edge of the field which meant that they missed the cunningly placed trail which was on the public footpath going through the middle of the field. (Is it me or is this beginning to sound a bit dense even for hashers?).
So off and upwards to the cow field and then upwards again to the stile and towards the forest.
Down the road and then up to the other side of the forest in a repeat of the trail Mussolini had laid in ‘87 (or was it ‘88?). The rain slowed up for nearly 30 seconds at one point before the pack trudged down through the mud down the path to cut through the field leading back to the lane where the evil hare had them once again squishing through cow shiggy .Miss Perfect was heard to try and move the young male cows away by saying “shoo!” “Bullocks” I hear you say. But no, it was true. As the cheating shortcutters had got home first I saw the pack drip homewards in one’s and two’s to attempt to look less like drowned rats before assembling in the pub.
We all remember when the Star & Garter was a pub with real locals who worked around the area and enjoyed an honest pint; but now we had a frosty reception as we did not want to eat the lunchtime platter at. £75 a head!
As Spiderman had forgotten the hashit, it was decided by a unanimous vote (well actually Godiva decreed) that he should therefore have the honour and he could carry it around next time. So, all in all a surprisingly well attended and enthusiastic run which everybody enjoyed.
Our thanks to the hares for a good run at short notice.
On On Humble Scribe
Gospel according to BambiSurprisingly the persistent rain attracted a decent number of hashers, Lydia and Heidi managed to find the start, there were vistors Susan and Wynne (Guildford Hash) and even Sylvia from Poland fancied a slosh through the puddles. Horror of horrors Spiderman forgot to bring the Hash-it. At the appointed hour dry hashers hatched from their cars and as they gazed through the rain at the surrounding green and lush hillsides Mussolini went through the formality of telling us that it was going to be a dry and flat outing. And so it was up the path behind the village hall we headed and on up through slippy cow patties to the top. Now as any of you regular hashers will know we have already visited the slopes above Newhouse Farm twice this year so it was a surprise when the check near the top had us all stumped causing the pack to spread out into the brush until eventualy I think it was Sinbad discovered the way up from the lower path to the upper.
The following checks were easily dealt with as we broadly executed a clockwise loop around Forest Hanger with no letup in the rain, although the flour....sorry dough was just about remaining visible. Eventualy we found ourselves back at Newhouse Farm with Canman and Wynne at the fore and there was a suspicion that we faced a long on-in, but not so.
Reluctantly the pack followed the leading duo to the top of the slope to the east of the farm.
From here The Gnu sniffed out our way down to the Charlton Forest entrance gates where the hare had laid another "off piste" adventure to flummox us.
Next we headed down hill on the familiar path that comes out by the soccer pitch, surely this was on-in.....not so easy, as a cruel little finale we were taken back across Newhouse Farm lane and returned to the slippy sloppy cow patties for our descent to the village hall.
After a struggle to get into dry clothes we retired to the Star and Garter where we easily outnumbered the diners.
Godiva had decided not to award a non existant hash-it so we all congratulated Mussolini for a great trail and settled into rehydration amongst an infestation of wet tail slappy tailed dogs.