When we arrived at the pub in the pouring rain, I expected to see a full blown film crew, you know – Director, Production Manager, Unit Manager, Continuity Girls, Camera Operators, Clapper Loader, Grip, Gaffer, Best Boy, Sound Engineer, Makeup Artist, Stunt Coordinator etc. etc.
Instead we were greeted by a smiling Roger, who had assumed the role of Parking Attendant, and was doing a pretty good job at directing the cars uphill on slimy mud and grass, until traction was lost and plan B was put into action. Plan B being "er you had better park on the road, unless your name is Alan, then you can park in the VIP spot, with the shortest walk to the bar".
OK, so where was Kate Adie? It seems the real Kate Adie was doing a piece for "From your own correspondent" somewhere in a restaurant called The Hash House in Kuala Lumpur. Unfortunately, tonight's hare, also called Kate Adie, had looked out the window earlier in the day, and decided to throw a sicky. This is what happens when you work for the BBC. After a few years it just becomes second nature.
Roger had to explain that we had a new hare, who, with about 5 hours notice, had set the hash tonight. Crampon's off to Gerry, who tackled the Haut Feuille Blanche with gusto, by managing to turn a 5 mile hash into a mountainous marathon.
Off we went down a steep hill (or was it UP a steep hill). Anyway it doesn't matter, because throughout the whole evening, I (maybe others) were either out of breath going uphill, or suffering knee pain going downhill. Apart from the odd stretch of horizontal, this was the experience for the night.
When we arrived at the Plough in Lower Cadsden, Phil, who seems to have far too much energy these days, decided to do some swinging with a bit of a rubber. Bumcrack* commented that may be he was overdoing the Viagra, as he put a huge hole in a tyre.
At some point the shorts were dispatched, and we just carried on going up and down etc. About two third's the way round after running along a rare stretch of level path, The hare shouted on right! So we all went right into dense jungle, whereupon the hare shouted on back! Back on the path we carried on, then off right we went again. Sorry, wrong turning this time as well. When the path finally petered out, we were forced to go right, and bingo we picked up the trail again. I suppose you could say we were doing a bit of Gerry Meandering.
The final descent witnessed Ant going so fast, that he was able to perform an amazing skid on a piece of moss, as if he was riding an invisible snowboard. I thought maybe I could do that, and I am just lacking the confidence of youth. The thought vanished in an instant, and I continued hobbling down the slope.
Finally, we hit a road, before the on inn, which couldn't have come soon enough.
Thank you Gerry for stepping in and providing very welcome bowls of chips, which just kept on coming.
*Bumcrack, so called because a car full of hashers followed him cycling into Ledbury, displaying an impressive cleavage in the lower back area.