Run	Date	Hare(s)	Description	MapRef	1:50000	1:25000	1:10000	More
972	2021-12-05 11:00	Slightly Disappointing & Sausage	Pagham Nature Reserve Visitor Centre	SZ856966

Despite early worries about a small turnout, a multitude arrived at the RSPB Reserve, on a cold windy morning, attracted by the promise of hot mulled wine. We had visitors, Darling and Stallion from Gloucester and welcome back for Pru, Tigger, The Ref and Old Faithful.

Sausage Lottery (co Hare) was initially conspicuous by her absence, while she " collected herself" from Guildford HHH's Nativity Beer Run the day before.

There was a lot of jigging about trying to keep warm as we gathered for the off, however a great deal of chatter, like a flock of starlings twittering away, prevented our JM from being heard until Kinky gave us a blow job on the bugle.

Slightly Disappointing Hash Name (Hare) gave us an adept quick course in the flour what he had laid, and Bambi warned us not to interfere with any Avian Flu casualties that we might encounter, because if you keep hens you might pick something up that will seriously affect your pecker. Then Slightly pointed towards the Visitor Centre and we were off, toot, toot!.

To start, we found ourselves heading North towards Sidlesham with Stallion and Old Faithful showing us that old geezers can still run, at least at the start, for a while, to begin with. A falsie up Mill Lane diverted most of the pack away from the trail East to Sidlesham Quay with Dr Blood, Kinky and The Ref now leading the way.

So picturesque here, in the lee of an offshore wind, a flat calm sea reflecting the patchwork clouds as the tide slowly rising is almost at it's zenith. The pack, though, was not taking in the scene because there was confusion, too much flour?, a check here and one just over there, suspicion of a back check, you can imagine the usual Hash melee of bodies travelling in different directions.

The buzzing about came to an end with a confident call from the direction of The Crab and Lobster, which used to be a "Pub" and now is a "Restaurant and Bar". A check just before Rookery Lane gave Splasher the chance to draw attention to the trail South towards the shore, however a lack of vocal exercise on his part meant that he reached the briny first, and discovered something that the Hares had not considered during the hours planning that they had devoted to this trail.

The check at the junction with the coastal path was clearly visible, but under three inches of a rising tide. Nothing for it but to gird up our loins and wade East on the wrong side of the Dyke, "Well it was dry the last twice we came here" said the Hare with a genuine look of surprise, although I for one don't believe what a Hare says.

If the wind had been from it's usual direction then it would have been much worse, higher and lots of waves slapping at us, as it was, the water was not too cold or deep, although that did not prevent the pack from moaning.

Not soon enough we climbed a few steps and were delivered on to the dry fields heading North towards Halsey's Farm and into the teeth of the bitter wind, it was out of the frying pan etc. We had a brief calm beside that lovely curved flint and brick wall at the farm before heading out North West towards Honer Farm and more unhindered withering gales on the open pasture land.

Kinky's horn comes into it's own in these conditions, being clearly heard above the rush of air around the old lug holes.

It took us a while to get through this part of the Hash, it was like running into treacle, well, not actually, but you know what I mean, and lots of possible tracks amongst the blown flat grass.

If it were not for the sea defences much of this land would be underwater at high tide, drainage is therefore a problem, not more so than on the path to the aptly named Marsh Farm. With rising sea levels and the Environment Agency "managed retreat" policy, places like this will one day be underwater, but until then the gateway to Church Farm Lane is going to be one of the biggest open cess pits on the planet.

A delightful mixture of a stale cow manure and mud, knee deep and unavoidable, at least the cold means that those big bluebottle flies are not all over your face. Oh yes, I forgot to mention that this is where we headed next. Bambi almost lost his shoe in this stuff and everyone emerged with smelly gunked up legs, a hateful super, super, shiggy place.

So now the half drowned, wind blown, smelly pack continued West until reaching Cycle Route 88, Two Fat .. stop! you can't say that these days, anyway, this was a good sight because route 88 goes right back to the Chariots, the pack was going to "seal it's fate on route eighty eight" come what may, it is just fortuitous that this coincided with the true trail.

This took us back to the quay at Sidlesham where a few took the opportunity to dangle parts in the high tide to wash off the brown stuff, risking the anger of Surfers Against Sewage.

The On-In was reached after one hour and twenty six minutes of harrowing Hashing.

We returned to a real outdoor feast, there was lots of eatables, my eyes only focussed on a favourite duo, pigs in blankets followed by chocolate fingers, mmmmm chocolate, all washed down by steaming mulled wine with rock cakes.

Of course there was a big round of thanks to the Hares, Sausage lottery made an appearance, she seemed to be suffering from delirium tremens (look it up), which sparked a discussion on "when was the last time you got really, really, drunk?".

Our JM accused some of taking a short cut, can't think who?, and obviously mentioned Tide Tables and the like, I think he re-awarded the Hash-It to himself for not carrying it.

The Hashers gradually drifted off while we discovered that one of the lovely oak framed HHH signs, that The Ref hand crafted, was missing, presumable half inched by a sign sniffing pervert, who will rot in hell.

On – On ! Bambi

See: photos by Bambi