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Est 1983 - ON PRES: Robin Low

RunDateHare(s)DescriptionMapRef1:500001:250001:10000 Aerial
6722009-11-08Dr Blood & Pink Flamingo. There is space for cars on the road. Please come 10 minutes early for a minute's silence at 11:00.Chalton - near railway Portsmouth side SU737159

It was wet windy and 8 degrees, the hares looked like, and said that they felt like, drowned frozen rats having been at the mercy (of which there was little) of the elements for two hours or more. There was a welcome back for Malibog over from Stockholm for a few weeks and for Mr Pastry who is soon to return to his native Hungary to enjoy his retirement.
Dr Blood had set up two radios so that we could hear the chimes of Big Ben and start our two minutes of contemplative silence on this Remembrance Sunday. The sound of the cool damp breeze in the branches above, the occasional falling leaf fluttering down, a group of people standing silently.

Then the hares gave us the usual lies and we were off. A brave bunch took the path straight up Chalton Peak but the trail just petered out over the crest giving them a treacherously slippery descent back to the road where in the meantime the rest had crossed the rail track, run through the farm yard and then headed a long way south having missed the falsie dots.
While all this was sorting itself out Soapbox indulged himself with a heavy petting session involving the two friendly horses in the paddock near the farm.
Eventually Old Faithful and Sinbad chose the right way along the path towards Ditcham Park and after a long stretch we came upon a regroup just into the trees on Long Row.
It's just then we spied a yellow shirt way back down the trail and so we waited, getting cold, as the occupant made best speed towards us and was gradually revealed as being Dogwhistle going flat out, and not far behind her was Miss Perfect.
We didn't wait any longer to greet them because flour had been found south towards Stubb's Copse and then sharply north to The Harris where we all arrived at a classic four way check that had us all scratching our heads and some scratching other parts.
Can Man must have scratched the right parts because he eventually found the right trail after the likes of Mr Pastry, Graham number two, and yours truly had expended a lot of fruitless effort.

Heading north we were treated to some clambering through undergrowth accompanied by regular expletives before doing a U turn on to the Sussex Border Path and heading directly south west towards the chariots on a long run in with Sinbad and Malibog being real FRBs.

Somehow we had managed to take one hour and twentyfive minutes on what was a fairly short route.
There were a number of nominations, Malibog for new shoes, the late comers, Mr Pastry and Soapbox for discussing philosophy most of the way round.
On this occasion however the JMs decided to award our treasured seat to Graham number two as he is our youngest ex serviceman.
Then a short spin down to The George in Finchdean which was packed, but lovely and warm.

Bambi.

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