June 22nd, Rogers solstice run, actually solstice plus one, unless those druids have got it seriously wrong. Actually I prefer to call it the Three Counties run because that's how many I had to go through to get there, not to mention braving the queues of the very slow moving traffic on the M25. However all that was soon forgotten on arrival at The Cock Inn, for there was Roger our hare, resplendent in toga, woolly bath matt and painted face brandishing a sword (walking stick) and claiming loudly to be the Spirit of Christmas past or was it The Wicker Man? I thought he looked more like that man from the cleaning adverts, you know, Mr Muscle, only in blue, but then I realised clearly this Lad has got too much spare time on his hands!
The Hash pre-amble resembled a religious rite of passage, and I'm pretty sure that at one stage the entire Hash, encouraged by the prospect of finding a pot of gold had unwittingly sworn allegiance under pain of death to the Pagan Gods. Not Mike and myself however, we suspected trickery and both kept our mouths firmly shut. No mean feat for Mike you have to admit. I was half expecting a couple of choruses of “Summer is a coming in, all loudly sing cuckoo” before we set off but mercifully that never happened.
Caught by the first on back I made a half hearted attempt at climbing back up the steep hill and found myself in catch up mode right at the rear of the Hash, so there was little time to take in the ambience of the river bank. By the time we reached the bridge we were all glowing and perspiring nicely and the glistening river looked extremely inviting, so it was no surprise when Lucy just could not resist and threw herself headlong into the cool waters, crossing the stream like a water baby she jumped out, shook herself and showered everyone close by. Yes it was good to see Antony back again with his dog.
Apparently He's been working late in Holborn or was it that he's been smoking to much Old Holborn, anyway one of the two.
Here followed the long short split. The longs were sent panting uphill across the other side of the Valley and then in good hashing Grand Old Duke of York style, straight back down again, while the shorts gently meandered their way up the valley, re-combining at Holloway Lane, if I'm reading Rogers map correctly.
We passed through Sar
rats Bottom and up Dawes Lane (I'm sure there's a joke there somewhere) through a wood that could have been Sandfield Wood (Rogers map is not too precise) curving eventually at Sarrat Green.
Here the second and final long short split occurred. The shorts trogging back in to the Cock Inn via something called SA 30 and SA 24 (according to Rogers map!)
The longs still had plenty of high speed checking to do as were sent to Deadmans Ash and Newhall Farm then down SA 56 (according to you know what!) back to Sarrat Green and there to suffer the same run back in to the Cock Inn as the shorts.
Splendid run, superb evening, shame about the bath matt (good effort though!)