It has been a while since we have been treated to the sandy slopes
of Older Hill and this bright day that turned out to be at the end
of a longish dry spell was perfect for hashing. Nevertheless the
hares promised us plenty of wet shiggy, although you know what they
say about hare's promises.
Treefeller was busy nattering on the blower to Dogwhistle who was
having a challenging time finding us when our JMs/Hares called us to
order right on time. We welcomed new hasher Kirstin and esteemed
visitor Polly (Richard) from Dublin HHH before Pancsi pointed in
the direction of the gorse bushes across the road and said you go thataway.
Even so some unbelievers went the other ways and found nothing as a reward for
their scepticism. Thataway led west a short distance to the edge of the escarpment
that overlooks Woolbeding Common with the picaresque view towards Milland
in the distance.
The hares even persuaded us not to go straight down but to head north
keeping on the edge of the drop until we reached a big check at the trig point.
Ana and Kirstin were showing great enthusiasm to charge around looking for the
true trail to no avail while Old Faithful found it by choosing the plunging path
down the slope to the bottom. A small check at the bottom lead to the almost
predictable leg sapping climb up again and then the soft pine needled meander
back down to the cottages at Hookland to find a welcome regroup.
There were many possible ways from here so the pack was spread out searching
before Polly eventually discovered the nice fast downhill trail of flour south
west across Linch Road into Stedham Marsh. Marsh by name and marsh by nature so
there was plenty of shiggy to try an avoid as we headed south towards Wisper's Copse.
There was a little confusion for a time as Stitchup's Gallic accent led some to
think he was calling a false trail when in fact he was on the good stuff.
All the water in those parts congregates thereabouts because it's the lowest point,
ipso facto the only way we could now go was uphill which we did by climbing back
to Linch Rd near the Old Rectory to discover a ladies check. Being blessed with an
ample supply of hashers of the female persuasion who do not seem to find such a
check offends their liberated sensibilities we soon saw Kirstin, French Virgin,
Ana and Pink Flamingo dispatched to the available compass points.
Flamingo didn't return so we charged east after her across the Older Hill road all
the way up to The Lair. Perhaps charged is too strong a word to describe the
pace with which most of the pack negotiated the climb. Soon there was no mistaking
Stitchup's calls of On-In to the north at the one hour and fifty eight minute mark,
perfect timing. The longish run in to the chariots was punctuated with a display
from Canman of how to tumble A over T without injury when he failed to notice those
semi exposed lumps of flint poking out of the chalky path.
At the circle we thanked the hares, great route, perfect timing etc.. Stitchup
for managing to keep his sock dry when the bog sucked off his shoe, Bambi and others
for circumventing most of the shiggy. The Hash-It was presented to Pru for being
a bit of a poser with her brand new chariot with personal plate PRU 2.
We retired to The Greyhound on Cocking Causeway where the cider was dry and
crisp and refreshing, to talk about Splasher's racehorse and purchase fresh
asparagus. Dogwhistle never did show up, she is probably still driving round
searching for us.
On On, Bambi.
on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on-on | |||||||||||||||||||||||||