It's that time again: set the run one week and the following week I have to write the run report. Now what can I write, let me think...
They say old hashers ramble on - well Phil the Crook verbally rambled on about finding flour - or was it losing flour? - but giving no clues as to the evening patrol of Woburn Moor and district.
A diverting start across the road and then 10 metres re-crossing the road? No assisting lollipop lady, just a risk-assessing dance to dodge the frequent traffic and on down a lane to see Peppa Pig at the kiddies' animal farm. Now is this a farm for kiddies or for farming kiddies? A place for kiddy culture maybe?
Progress led us to fields of agriculture punctuated with kissing gates and stiles until surprisingly Phil reveals it is time for the short distance players to be offered a rest from the relentless pace of the fitness squad.
Across the field of rapeseed could be seen the dreamy spires of the Royal Standard but we had a long journey to be completed before enjoying its warm hospitality. At the top of Berghers Hill we headed pass secluded residences and unique timbered cottages to enter Farmers Wood; crossing a country lane the footpath passed horse paddocks where our progress became an amble, with Mike pausing to whisper sweet nothings to the curious well-groomed steeds eager for this attention. High above us a plane soared vertically, straining its engines to first gain height and then bank lazily, hanging as if suspended before descending in a circular fashion towards us - although obviously oblivious to our location it brought a sense of insecurity, raising a question as to whether to seek cover until it had passed.
The scenery changed once more as crossing another lane and entering a wood full of Rhododendrons in an abundant display of purple foliage set amongst the native oaks of the wood. Finally arriving at Littleworth Common and a visit to The Blackwood Arms and our old friend Mike Gilbey's memorial.
From here we set off along the wooded lane towards Littleworth Corner and although we could hear the rest of us in the fit club, they didn't catch up with us and it became clear we had gone in the wrong direction and had to return to the Blackwood and pick up the correct trail via Boveney Wood Lane and across the wood to the duckpond farm.
By this time we were all hoping to glimpse the rooftop of the Royal Standard. Crossing field after field we emerged from the countryside through a narrow path into an immaculately-kept group of mobile homes. Arriving back it was almost dark and hare raiser Mick declared his new G4 equipment had recorded a lengthy 6.3 miles!
Great beer with lots of chips, shame I didn't get any this week as I was rattling the tin to hoover up any reluctant payers. Thanks Phil great hash, brilliant area with no hills.