Arriving barely seconds after 1950hrs, I was somewhat surprised to find that the hash had eagerly sped off, leaving only the walkers behind (and a slightly more-confused-than-usual Keyboard Ken who seemed to think he was "walking, but going short") So off I shot too, only to endure a long hard slog up the hill and into the woods, with the far-off baying of the hounds (human and canine) to urge me forward.
Into First Charsley's Wood, where Hell's Belles took a tumble whilst checking. Now, you may recall that the previous week, hubby Ron had had a contretemps with a tree, resulting in a fine display of Chateau Keats claret and an evening of TLC from his better half. One might have expected reciprocation therefore, but instead the harsh bark of "GET UP ON YOUR FEET AND STOP WHINGING" was heard - ain't love grand?
We then popped out onto Hervine's Park, where we were reliably informed that the hare had dallied for some time mid-setting, as there was a rugby training session taking place at the time and she seemed keen to compare her newly-acquired Ordnance Survey map with the terrain before her, which by coincidence was at that moment populated by well-muscled sweaty young men in tight shorts lifting heavy things and grappling with one another. Well, that's what I heard, and it's a good story, so now it's in the trash which means it's true!
Ant duly called us on-on around the perimeter of the park, but let slip to the keen-eared among us that we would end up in the diagonally-opposite corner. Now, as my lovely wife is a maths teacher by profession, I am somewhat familiar with Pythagoras, he of the square hypotenuse, so applying a little knowledge I reasoned that it made most sense to head straight across the park, rather than along the edge. Sure enough, thanks to the appliance of science (10 points to anyone who can remember the company that adopted that as their strapline) I was stood idly waiting as the majority of the hash sweated and puffed their way to the fields' egress. Of course, not wanting to appear a slacker, I then managed to convince them that the only reason I had cut the corner was in order to attempt to dissuade the shortcutters not to do the same.
More woods and fields, the details of which escape me, although I do remember thinking the aforementioned Ron had clearly been engrossing himself in the I-Spy Book of Civil Engineering, as while we were passing the up-line (or is it the down-line?) from Amersham he proceeded to point out the details of the earthworks that had been carried out during its construction, and continued with a worrying tale of the imminent collapse of the Stokenchurch Cut due to its having been dug too steeply.
Descending finally towards Old Amersham, we crossed Barn meadow recreation ground, then followed the route of the Misbourne On-Inn and back to the boozer, where, with Champions League commentary doing its best to drown out the GM's wild ravings, we were treated to a fine spread of roasted and deep-fried snacks. An excellent virgin run from our hare, well done for a great hash, and definitely worth investing in the full set of OS maps!