The three hares, one old (Hairbrush) and two new (James and Thomas) had ordered a lovely fresh sunny morning for Dr Blood, who was standing in for a delayed JM, to welcome new hasher Emma and visitors Chastity Belt and His Knees Are Buggered.
As expected there were lies from the hares about short falsies and dry flatness before we single filed over the stile on the west side of the car park, just as The Spider people arrived, complaining that we had set off early.
To start we had a series of five checks pretty much all in a straight line heading west. At each, a hopeful bunch headed north and south and a more sedentary nucleus hung about to have a chat.
Some of us (well, okay, just me) were being distracted by Godiva's tee shirt which if viewed with squinty, sweaty, beady eyes made it look like she was bouncing along in a bright pink glamour bra, a very effective way of showing her support for Walk the Walk against breast cancer.
When the change of direction came, it was to the south and it was Snake Charmer that disappeared into the distance as we reached and crossed the big Ride only to see her coming back, which left us milling around blinking in that bright green corridor with its blue ribbon ceiling.
Teamwork from Emily and Spiderman took us back into the shade heading south west into another sequence of close together checks. In here we were joined by a late arriving visitor, Head Boy from Haslemere and then shortly after Olive Oyl and Thom turned up.
By now we were meandering about on the edge of The Avenue and it was time to head north for the chariots. As we recrossed the Ride Pancsi and Snake charmer over ran a falsie, stumbled upon the outbound trail and headed off towards Stansted House, fortunately for the rest of us Hairbrush urged us not to follow them, which we did not.
Soon we reached that familiar spot with six ways to go, and murmuring about how we had not heard as much tooting from Kinky's bugle as usual, when we were struck dumb by the sight of Splasher actually checking out a trail, and struck even dumber when it turned out to be the true trail.
All that remained was easterly progress past the venerable yews and then south parallel to the road (remember Bika's trail from The Castle earlier this year ?) to the On-In after one hour and fifty seven minutes of check packed hashing.
At the circle there was a round of applause for the hares, a mention of funny goings on with The Doc and The Chamois that had involved Sussex Police, and then Emily's confusion with our very complicated hash markings. The Hash-It was self awarded to Olive Oyl for only managing to make the last quarter of the hash.
The Victoria Inn at West Marden had been warned that we would be arriving there to refuel.