A pleasant calm winter morning with patchy sunshine.
We bade welcome to Portsmouth/Winchester hashers Beer Pump and Debbie Lamour(?) (in a shocking shade of pink) and a wee dog (in a more restrained black and white coat).
Bika and Kermit presented their usual extra signage and warnings about mud; lots of mud - the area is clay and quite suitable for a reservoir he explained.
Off we went on a false into the thicket - lots of dogs barking and yapping and Max pulled Robin over. On back and out over the road and then, to test our road crossing skills, back to the other side and into the wood.
The pack skirted Gipsies Plain and then met the 'fish-hook' sign whereupon the first four front runners (Pancsi, Snake Charmer, Olive Oyl and Flash.) had to turn back to the previous check.
We then squelched our way through Hammonds Lands Copse. and then past the old stables.
This came out into field with sheep and Beacon Folly.
Most went false up the hill but the right way was through a gate to the right.
Then down steps to the lake where most, having picked up sheep-like traits en route, blindly followed someone following a non-trail to the left side.
We found a gravel track (The Avenue) and onto a check at a four way crossroads A mystery person miles ahead checked out route to left - no one called but eventually the pack followed - then took right fork up a windy path where we met a lively white dog 'Boris' chasing Max and taking no notice of his owner. Max was not keen to play.
A long woody path led back out to open fields and through a trail across field very very muddy near the marsh surrounding Upper Lake.
At the next check the Hares offered short medium and long options to the on-in without revealing which was which.
We were back after 1 hour and 20 minutes.
The JMs complemented Bika and Kermit on a very fine hash with excellent mud. The Hashit nominees were Splasher for making Snake Charmer carry the thing and next to Snake Charmer herself for being foolish enough to accept it. The next candidate was Old Faithful for disobeying Doctors' advice which was not to walk. But the award went to Beer Pump for sitting down at every bench and generally being too fit.
We then retired to the awful Harvester Pub with half Havant scoffing Sunday lunch. Our table discussed philosophy and language and mankindís weak attempts to make use of solar energy.