Gosh!, it was only yesterday, (run 871 actually), that we were here just outside Petworth
Park, like Deja Vu all over again. However since most of the pack are now senile it doesn't
really matter, as few remembered, "remembered what?" I hear you ask.
There is nothing wrong with Hairbrush's memory, he told us all about this day in 1966 when
England, the German crossbar and a Swiss referee won the black and white World Cup.
Talking about referees, it seems that The Ref broke two ribs on the last hash.
Hoping not to break anything this time, we welcomed Ab Fab (East Grinstead) and virgins
Kayleagh, Alan and David, friends of Vixen and Prancer.
With nothing of any interest added by the Hares we set out in Can Man's favourite direction
towards the gate into the park, and found several trails therein, all false.
Sinbad, Splasher and Jones were the first to show a bit of lateral thinking and venture into
Upperton where the trail awaited, continuing up to the Y junction. On the way up Tumble Tot
found herself blushing as she involuntarily started her own wet tee shirt competition as she
suffered a Camelbak malfunction.
Next it was over to the other side of the wall from the residential folly where the pack was
fooled into going way down hill on the north west footpath.
Snake Charmer found the uphill trail around the secret garden and into the old chalkpits
above and then we followed Dancer, Alan and David west through southern Upperton
Common until they were caught by a fish hook along with Cheesy Chips and Sinbad.
Next we headed south, out from under the trees to reach the spot where the bridleway near
Pitsill House was diverted, after a long legal battle. Nevertheless there is still a good view
of this grade II listed georgian mansion, considered to be one of the most important
country houses in West Sussex.
With our backs to the house we headed east through Upperton vinyards where the
Chardonnay and Pinot Noir look to be abundant this year, (around 27 a bottle if you
are interested).
And then we reached the On-In after one hour and five minutes of relaxed hashing,
except for Kinky who purposely overran the falsie at the last check to make his own
way back via Tillington, and Old Faithful who went looking for him, assuming he was
lost as usual.
At the circle we ignored the fact that it was Splasher's birthday just to annoy him, remarked
upon Tumbletot's water fun and admired Kayleagh's pyjama bottoms before giving the
Hash-It to Kinky for taking the long cut.
The Halfway Bridge Inn was the lucky recipient of our custom afterwards where we
quaffed away on the patio as one does.
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 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||