Run	Date	Hare(s)	Description	MapRef	1:50000	1:25000	1:10000	More
886	2018-01-07 11:00	Hairbrush & 2 Ferrets Fighting - Hangover Hash	Felpham - Hairbrush House	SU959002

Just two words, wind and chill, could be the advice to a new mother, however for us it meant Antarctic like conditions. Not too bad in the shelter of Hairbrush's garden where we welcomed Mr Beaky, visiting from Wessex Hash before the obligatory group photo followed by a kamikaze dash across the B2259 to the Georgie V playing field, which appeared to be fully occupied by the Felpham dog walkers association.

Gradually we wove our way south, alternating between the two paths on the eastern edge with Bika having to deal with many doggie introductions along the way and Panda nearly running slap bang into the odd lamp post.

What is due south of here?, the beach that's what, and that is where we arrived via Wansford Way and Limmer Lane.

Ah! the bracing ozone fresh air, the winter sun, the chapped lips, feeling really alive because you are nearly frozen to death. After finding a long falsie to the east, it was either west or a swim to France, accordingly we headed west with the route playing fast and loose with the shore, sometimes over the heaps of pebbles, sometimes on the parallel urban tarmac.

Just past the riot of colour beach huts we arrived at The Lobster Pot a very popular place for caffeine addicts.

Foolishly Bambi chose to look for more flour to the west over mountains of pebbles, and who should he bump in to but Cheshire, if you can remember him you have grey hair if you stop dying it. No time to stop and chat, Bambi was terrified that he might be left behind and started a sprint north up Felpham Road and who should he bump in to but Shureshot, you should remember her and she was joining us for the rest of this magnificent experience.

Next it was up Links Avenue to the dead end at the top of Ryfe Way, flummoxed we retraced our steps, then the Hare called us back up the dead end, more flummoxation even for the Hare, how embarrassing, until a blushing Hare saw the error of her ways and put us on straight and narrow.

Soon we arrived at a regroup under the lychgate at St Mary's, traditionally a place to dump bodies awaiting burial however in our case a place to dump bodies waiting for chit chatty stragglers.

The remainder of the run proved a mere formality given the proximity of the sound of traffic, taking us back to the playing field and the On-In after fiftynine minutes of frigid hashing.

Undoing shoelaces with frostbitten fingers and changing clothes while experiencing regular rhythmic muscular contractions was a challenge, however soon we were all aglow in the warmth of the Hairbrush Hilton and tucking in to a feast of finger foods washed down with wine and wallop.

Flash dished out the annual accounts which were neatly folded and saved for later digestion, and two ferrets wrestled with the raffle ticket perforations.

Hairbrush brought proceedings to order dishing out the Hash-It to The Ref for pushing Panda off a wall and dishing out a new hash name, "Pocket Rocket" to Jones who appeared in all innocence to be chuffed, later and older we might play the "Is that a rocket in your pocket? or are you just ...." card.

Moving on, Hairbrush then launched into his review of the year previous, thanking all the usual suspects and presenting Hasher Of The Year seat to Pru who gamely tried it out for size.

The most awaited news that our new JMs are to be Vixen and Prancer was greeted by a gentle applause that hinted at a leak somewhere in the administration.

Then to the raffle, expertly handled by our new JMs despite a little confusion caused by someone, you know who you are, placing both halves of the early three hundred white tickets into the bowl.

Gradually then, hashers left the friendly warmth to brave the elements, and Bambi left before the washing up, thanking Carol and Hairbrush for the use of their lovely home and Carol, Pru and Tigger for the preparations.

On On ! Bambi.

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