I went the extra mile for Roger's hash on Tuesday. I had driven 9 miles to my own hash in Hawridge the week before and it was 10 miles to Roger's hash in Sarratt (though only 7 miles as the cock flies). At 7.50 the Grand Master called us all to order (I had the set menu) and handed us over to the Hare. The latter announced that the long run was 5.1 miles and the short 3.8, and the trail markings in flour would be on the right.
Roger laid the trail on Monday so that he could entertain Brad from Dallas on Tuesday. The weather was dry and fine so the flour was mostly still there. We ran down to the Chess Valley and Audrey and Kerry were photographed on a large tree branch they'd sat on years ago. There was some backchat about whether the markings were in fact always on the right, but apparently the GM is always in the right anyway.
Up the hill towards Chenies we went and fairly soon the long/short split was upon us. I was lured to the longs by the promise of good scenery. Jo was reassured that the pace of the longs would not be too blistering. Hawkeye was having a tough time with his bike though. Kissing gates became something more rude in his opinion.
When in Chenies Paul and I could not help noticing that the hare had taken bits of runs we had set from the Red Lion in Chenies in recent years. Perhaps 70 yards from my run and 90 yards from Paul's. However he did find a very clever little path before we got to St Michaels's Church that I didn't know existed. I was concerned to see Ros put on her torch in the woods: however, one torch does not a winter make. Back down through Mount Wood to the Chess Valley and Anthony chased after a car (trying to emulate the sprinting last week of Matt and his son). The bewildered woman in the car was probably driving to see her Czech mate.
The other Matt had injured his foot and had to hobble back to the pub. We rejoined the shorts: nice of them to wait for the longs. Nothing to do with losing their way, I'm sure. Someone gave Jo some bull about animals in the field we were going through so it was with some relief that we got back to the pub. Once there, it turned out that Gerry was still injured so he walked to the nearby 15th century church. Inside, he and Louise found a wallpainting from 11.19 (so only 8 hours to dry). Or it might have been the year 1190. Roger provided tasty flapjacks and brownies on his bonnet. Then we moved to the pub garden and he gave out the Tosca award for July. There could be only one winner and that was Barney aka Special K, for completing 1,000 runs without injury or complaint. Thanks Roger for a most enjoyable run with good parking and great treats.