It was a "get your suntan lotion on" Sunday as we gathered in the carpark beside the museum and played chicken with the frequent users of the cycle track.
Pancsi and Splasher arrived in a fluster having chosen not to follow the directions but to get to the centre of Havant and follow the "M" signs for the Museum, unfortunately they ended up at McDonalds.
Nevertheless a reasonable pack composed of the usual suspects managed to gather to hear news of OF and Pru's first grandchild Owen who checked in on St George's day.
(Q. what date was that ?).
Torchy put on his serious face and warned us to be careful as there was a lot of "road work" before ushering us on-out north up the old rail track.
I won't bore you with a detailed account of the first part of the hash which consisted of
an intricate series of checks and falsies knitted through the old streets and back alleys
just north west of the museum, an interesting tour with the odd pile of treasure for Canman.
Then a long hack west took us all to a regroup at the top end of the Jubilee Path, close to an
interesting pile of fly tipping, disgraceful but somehow alluring.
After having thanked the hares for our tour of Havant, nominations were offered for Canman who had been tumbling, Bambi and Flash for calling when not on trail, Dr Blood for being a SCB, the honours going to Soapbox for his delightful male chauvinist pig tee shirt.
Rehydration was effected at the Bear Hotel.