Est 1983 - ON PRES: Robin Low
|685||2010-05-09||The Doc, The Chamois & Tigger||Liss
||SU790259|| || || |
The small carpark was already full of dogwalker chariots before most hashers arrived,
it was going to be a tight squeeze to get us all in, but it all worked out as it seemed
that as one set of paws left, a set of feet arrived.
No set of feet arrived more ostentatiously than those of Old Faithful and Pru who slotted
in their Beamer Z4 chariot sporting a very special number plate.
From their point of view the weather was summarised as start out with the top down, freeze,
put it up and turn the heater on.
Eventually a decent sized pack assembled and was called to order to welcome Cascous who has
previously run with the Beirut hash (don't ask what the name means) and to note that since
Mussolini had arrived with Pancsi he couldn't be late as usual.
Without further ado, not even an historical note, we started out down the footpath towards Durford heath.
The first checks were dealt with easily until we arrived at the bottom of the little valley that
bounds the southern edge of the heath where there was a single short falsie but many other possible paths.
The result being that the front runners, Brylcream, Old Faithful, Flash etc were scattered looking for non
existent flour leaving a nervous nucleus at the check looking uncertainly in all directions.
In the end the pack drifted off in the direction from which no one seemed to be returning, which was up
the eastern slope towards Canada Cottages, there was a great deal of muttering about the lack of calling
from those who were actually on flour.
Soon we hit our first occurrence of the dreaded sabotage as the check at the top of the hill had disappeared
and the pack went a long way in the wrong direction up a falsie to the north until the hares directed us
south and down to a lady's check in Tipsall Bottom.
So the men stood around while the ladies checked out the bottom... ahem ... and Dogwhistle found the true
trail towards Redhill Copse, leaving Panda a long way in the wrong direction.
We now headed north then west into Rogate Common and so much sabotage that the hares (who had not brought
any extra flour) had started to organise and advance guard to stand where checks had once been laid.
Nevertheless this did not spoil our fun as the remainder of the route took us up and down several little loops,
north, west, then south back to the main trail and getting ever closer to the chariots with everyone enjoying
the lovely woodland and the fresh feel of the day.
Ah, the sound of bird song, "on-on!", trees rustling in the breeze, and Kermit pulling Hash Angel's hair, what
could be more natural ?.
We did not realise that we had reached the on-in marker because even that had been carefully removed,
so our arrival at the chariots was abrupt and after one hour and fifteen minutes.
There was a little discussion about nominations for the Hash-It before unanimous clamour from the circle
meant that it was thrust into the hands of Old Faithful, flash chariot, flash number, look in the back, Hash-It.
The Jolly Drovers was the inn of choice for re-hydration.