What a day, clear blue, ten degrees and a picture postcard view of Southsea with the Spinnaker tower behind, it would have been much nicer to sit in the van with Treefeller for an hour and chat, but someone has to write this and I suppose it should be a somewhat accurate account of what transpired.
Star of the arrivals in the little car park was the HMV dog Iggy which had stowed away in the pannier bag of Beer Pump's bicycle. Old Faithful was back and in running kit against the advice of medical science and more importantly against the wishes of Pru who didn't want one of those ?I told you so? conversations later.
Our JM was in his headmaster mood as he went through a list of points for attention, remember that a Hash is not a race ?etc.., please wear your yellow shirt ?etc.., take precautions against UV exposure ...etc. Yes sir, yes sir, can we get on with the run now?.. NO! the hares then made up a load rubbish which we had to listen to before we all charged off east over South Moor towards Langstone. By the way we don't have any CH3 yellow shirts in the hash cupboard.
Ironically it was our JM who charged off at the start as if it was a race closely followed by Snake Charmer, Beer Pump and Splasher who seems to be getting a bit fitter these days. This gang was split at the first check, there being a long falsie east on the sea wall taken by SC and BP with the true trail heading north on top of a drain pipe and then alongside the South brook all the way to the imposing concrete pillars of the Langstone flyover where there were many choices of where to go next.
Mussolini proved to be on the money as he led the pack in a path pounding slog west alongside the noisy A27 back to the top of Southmoor Lane and then north on the flyover and into Brockhampton. By now Old Faithful was regularly risking the wrath of Pru by breaking into the odd jog, perhaps she didn't notice, oh! I hope I haven't got him into trouble (tee hee) anyway there was a regroup at the roundabout on the other side of the flyover and we needed it.
After the restart we continued north into the houses but then west down Knox Road, and it must be said that those of us who are familiar with this area were pretty sure that we would be heading for the footbridge at the bottom of Mill Lane via the Jubilee path. And so it was, with the early arrivals at the footbridge, Snake Charmer, Pink Flamingo, yours truly, Bika, Beer Pump and Mussolini all enjoying that wobbly feeling on the central span, then the latter pair of the aforementioned entertained the rest by competing in their own sprint race from bottom to top of the incline, I can't remember who won, and anyway a Hash is NOT a race.
All together again on the south side it was Dr Blood who made the right choices as we progressed through a series of densely packed checks that took us in an anti clockwise loop around what used to be a recreation ground but is now a fly tipper's paradise, emerging on Harts Farm Way and heading for the chariots, where after a brief excursion on to the leg sapping pebbles west of the sewage works we arrived after one hour and ten minutes of thought provoking hashing.
I was not paying attention at the circle, THANKS and much applause for the hares, Tom and Kermit were mentioned for scaring the JM ?.... Beer Pump was awarded the Hash-It because he forgot to wrestle it from Donna and carry it as her stand in. Feeling anti social, again, I did not sup anything at the Golden Lion in Bedhampton Road, but others did.
"We enjoyed our drinks outside and were entertained by Iggy who told us a shaggy dog story." Ed.