A few regulars were absent, our JMs busy mingling up a canal
somewhere and Vixen not feeling her foxy self, however they were
made up for by two returning visitors Dick Head and Goofy (NH4).
Yours truly, being a hare, rounded up the first bubble to set out west into
the gentle undulations of Fitzhall Heath. We had not progressed more
than half a mile when we became aware of bubble number two hot on our
heels, a clear case of premature evacuation of the car park, probably brought
on by nervous expectation for a good hash. Spiderman, hare number two,
was able to delay their onward rush and give us time to head south to
the gates of Fitzhall and out of sight and sound.
Now the ankle scratching low brush on the trail gave way to the pine and
rhododendron gloom of the southern edge of the unseen drop into the
flooded sandpit that once was Mitchell's Common and through to Minstead Road.
Along the way we had a pause, as we waited for Dick Head to check a falsie
while Two Ferrets had a long natter with two mates who just happened to be
out riding their bicycles, all this time of course bubble number two would soon
be coming up behind. Not only that, Spiderman later informed me that the fish
hook in this section had been ignored by bubble number two whereas in our bubble,
Dick Head, Two Ferrets, Popeye and Kinky had been caught.
Next it was east in the open fields of Minstead Farm where the maize has been
harvested leaving a stubble reminiscent of Desperate Dan's chin.
Crossing the deep creek we entered The Warren which has been subjected to a
tree and shrub clearance that did nothing to hide our presence from Snake Charmer
and Bika, FRBs from bubble number two.
Now with some urgency we headed north through Severals to Woolmer Bridge,
the delightfully soft pine needle path through the tall pines providing a spring to
our paces along the path above the creek.
Here Prancer's mutt (Marty) disappeared as usual, so we jettisoned Prancer
to the mercy of bubble number two.
A brief pause at the bridges to take a snap before heading west into the agricultural
odours of the small farm that has perky piglets scampering precociously about the yard.
Up hill into Steadham Common and we were once again back in the heathers and low
brush amongst birch and willow, a challenge of checks in the network of unmapped
narrow trails leading to the On-In after one hour and seven minutes of Wealden hashing.
We had sauntered back to the car park and were delving into car boots to slap on
the sanitiser, as one does, when the Old Bill arrived and approached us. Tight lipped,
we expected "ello, ello, ello, wot av we yer, a bit of mingling?", however his
interest was in Tea Leafs and warning us not to leave valuables in our chariots, like flour.
A few of us retired to a sunny glade across the road for a secluded post hash natter,
then a few puffs of a rising chilly breeze prompted an exodus.
On On ! Bambi
See: SM's track ... AND ... photos 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 | |||||||||||||||||||||||||