Skip to main content

Hash 974

4 Aug 2009

Thanks to the wonders of modern technology there's no need for me to worry about having to remember where we went, I can just check my GPS to see a highly detailed plot of the route.

So. We met at the top of West Wycombe Hill at half past five and went.... oh hang on, that can't be right.. how do you work this bloody thing. Sod it, I shall go back to the time honoured method of writing the hash trash and just make it all up.

I arrived at Bourne End Station car park just in time to join in a heated debate about the risks of not forking out the £1.40 required for a ticket. Luckily, the value of my bike is much less than £1.40 (and, now I come to think of it, so is my car) so I was able to park without too much worry.

Our hare was resplendent in his high tech Alpine Marathon running top. Definitely a cut above the usual T-shirts handed out after a run. Ade said it beeping well should be since it cost him sixty quid - I guess he must have bought it on eBay.

Off we set, turning left out of the car park into Bourne End and paraded along The Parade before blindly turning up Blind Lane (this is good - wonder how long I can keep this up for).  Then we took a left and landed in Chalklands (hmm, stretching it a bit already) before er burroughing along Burroughs Road (ok, that didn't work at all) and then we wend over the road into Wendover Road (yay! back on track). Then we crossed the main road into 'The Avenue'... which is just a rubbish name for a road - especially one which isn't even an avenue.  Honestly, you'd have thought that the people who lived in houses like the ones down here could afford a decent road name - one with at least some comedy potential.

Anyway - we regrouped at the bottom of 'The Avenue' (sheesh) before making our way down to the Marina.
I once gave Simon some Morris Marina cufflinks you know - he never wears them hashing - I expect he keeps them for special occasions.

Of course, from the marina, it was pointed out that we could easily see the pub on the other bank and technically we could head straight to it if anyone could be bothered to swim. As it happened, it didn't really matter since we headed back towards the car park, over the bridge and then proceeded to run right past the front of the pub. Ade claimed that this flagrant and indeed fragrant breech of the rule was ok because everyone would have left their money back on the other side of the river. A few hashers wondered as to whether we could get a tab started and sort out the money later but nothing came of it. I mean, if you were running a bar, would you trust Mick?

Next it was along the river pausing only to see Lexi play with the wildlife. Bear V Shark, Monsters V Aliens, Weimaraner V Mad Hissing Swan. It'll be big on You Tube for sure.

We crossed the field (three times for some keen people) pausing only to wave at Rose, and up to the long/short split. The longs turned right up the hill whilst the shorts pootled off left at ground level (yes, yes I know). At the top of the hill we looped round and regrouped at a flying ants nest which Ade had thoughtfully marked with a circle of flour. We didn't find out it was a flying ants nest until Kerry had been standing on it for a couple of minutes and started hovering.

At this point it was noted that Phil had forgotten his running shoes and hashing in his normal footwear. Next week he's going to be doing Fastnet in his pyjamas.

Anyway, onward and upward, I think Ade was still in Alpine mode, and on to the John Lewis golf course. It's just like a normal course really but more tasteful, oh, and never knowing underholed.


Then it was a fair way along the top of the golf course to the car park on Terry's Lane, down the hill and back along the bottom of the course. A quick right down to the river and good run took us back in to the bridge.

Once we'd gone back north of the river to get changed it was back to the pub in time for chips (hurrah). There were some speeches from the GM, but frankly I wasn't really paying attention so you'll have to ask him what they were about. All in all, another fine traditional Bounty run from the man called Moose.