The last time we were at the Holmer Green Sport Club was back in 2012 when in a spirit of national unity and pride the GM organised a Hasholympics (c) complete with a variety of competitions for the young folk. I'm pretty sure that my girls and Evie medaled in the comedy hat race or maybe they just meddled in it.
This year's visit was also a reflection of the current mood of the nation: wet, cold and dismal.
The club has a large and spacious car park which was filled with large and spacious cars. The hash congregated at the far end - just to get that extra 100m in when the GM called the hush back at the entrance.
After a short jaunt down Watchett Lane we had an early split between the longs and shorts with the Hare taking the less road travelled. The longs set off without our leader into the houses and in time honoured fashion got lost straight away. This was to be a recurring theme of the evening.
We found the route again using nothing but our carefully honed tracking skills, a map and a network of geostationary satellites.
We headed off down Sawpit Lane where there was no discussion about the etymology of top dog vs under dog; Which is a shame because that's just the kind of spurious trivia which can be very useful in padding out a run report.
After a bit more running round the houses we emerged out into open countryside in Widmer End and headed across the fields towards Kingshill. On the road into Pipers Corner we passed a small pond which 'Plugger' Staines assured me he had been in charge of renovating one summer back in '68. This is not the first time this has happened to me on a hash. I remember Mike and Judy pointing out a large puddle that they had restored years ago. Living the pond life.
After looping through Kingshill (hell, take a look at the map if you want actual information about where we ran) we headed down into Grubbins Plantation where Billy whizzed past Brodie (sp?), Tim (sp?) and me, before essentially running straight into a tree.
We were getting pretty strung out by this point and the styles were getting wobblier by the minute, but over the horizon broke the sunlit uplands of the sports centre floodlights. Of course being floodlights - carefully designed for visibility - it was still a good slog back across the fields before we got close.
As we approached the sport centre we managed to find Ade who had been having difficulty doing up his shoelaces on arrival and had lost the pack at the first junction.
Once inside there was a cornucopia (well cardboard boxful) of chips together with plenty of bread for butting. Some of the bread was wholemeal so it even counts as being healthy - pretty sure hops count as one of your five a day as well. It was certainly appreciated so thanks to the GM for a stirling effort.