Hashes

1073

Date : 24/05/11
Hare : Keyboard Ken
Scribe : General Menace
Venue : The Swan
Hounds : 36     Dogs : 0
Recorded distance : 0.00 km
Recorded time : 0.00 min
Uphillness : 0.00 ft

Audrey.  How could you do this to me?
Absenting yourself from a hash report is not a virtue.
I gave you worms and this is how you repay me.

The dread one can have, as the hare raiser, when the hash is set from Ley Hill is that no one turns up because it is perceived as being in the middle of nowhere.
The concern was turned on its head on Tuesday night.
At 7:45pm.  No hare.  Was it because the bike hash had passed by this very pub just 2 weeks ago and there were no paths left untrod?
Come 7:50pm thoughts turned to setting a live hash with no map and no flour.
7:55pm and there was Ken.  Nonchalant as you like, as though it was quite normal for the hare to be late.  That’s a band member for you.  Leave the audience hanging so they appreciate you better.
Rumour had it that it took him 6 hours to set.  That being so I can quite understand him being quite sick of the place.  The less kindly souls amongst us postulated that it was 2 hours to set and 4 hours at the bar communing with his feet.

Anyway, off we all went down the side of the golf course (all except 2 that is).
A left along Green Lane and a right hook turn brought us back to the Bovingdon Road where there is an valley in which a cyclist can break the speed of sound and back to rest again, all in the space of 200m.

LT18 lead us through a wood replete with stingers to the Latimer Road.  Ahead of us we could see the GM and the hare who had both taken a short cut.  In the GMs case, his slow start was due to a change of clothing, into leggings that afforded more protection against nettles.

Then the Blonde erupted.  Don’t you think there is something Icelandic about her?  Bit Gudrun Haroldsdottir like?

“Where have you been?   I was worried witless about you.  I thought you had an accident.   Your meal’s been in the oven for hours and now its ruined.   The cat’s been sick......etc, etc.”  And the cause of this outburst?  The GM going short.  Well, there was no ash cloud to disrupt air travellers on this occasion, but it was a close run thing.

The Blonde had to breathe.  Peace at last.

The residual flour from the bike hash caused a little confusion but not enough to stop us finding the trail again by the side of Ashridge farm, then uphill along LT 4.  Being a long stretch without crossing trails, we had our fair share of on backs.  So many in fact that Gerry started to feel guilty and began to deny being the inventor of the Palmer turn.

Into Cadmore Wood and the long short split.  Mike C was summoned to the front so that we could all share his joy at seeing this sign.  Then onward in a sarf-westly (homage to Audrey) direction to the expensive properties of Latimer.  Before Ade could bring prices down by shouting at the occupants we zoomed along the Chess valley through Tooley’s Croft and Nether Ditch.  Not once did we have to run away from an angry herd of animals.

We were now back on bike hash territory climbing up the side of the valley into Furzefield wood which incidentally is not as wooded as the map would have you believe.  The cries of “are we nearly there yet” became more frequent and strident.  Alcohol deprivation is a sad thing to see in otherwise healthy people.
By this time the sun had gotten bored and gone to bed, so the last stretch of the run through woods was by torch light.  Or it was for those that had bothered to bring torches.
Finally the (sw)on inn on Kiln Lane and an opportunity to swamp the Swan Inn due to the large number of hashers who actually turned up.

Anthony S is attempting to break his own world record next week by hashing for 3 consecutive weeks.  I don’t know whether I can stand the excitement.
The only other event of note (such is my life) occurred in the pub.  Standing in the queue for the bar I asked Rob (Sooper’s mate) what he was drinking.  “Cock a leg” he replied.  Nice drop of cider.
When I got to the bar I asked for a pint of “cock a leg”.  The landlady folded in two and collapsed behind the bar.  That Rob, eh.  I should expect nothing less from a citizen of the town that brought us the Marlow Donkey.

Ken.  If it really did take six hours to set the Hash, it was worth the effort.  Thanks.