It was a lovely drizzly evening as we assembled in a cramped car park strewn with puddles. A taste of what was to come I guess. Dave and I watched some ingenious parking as loads of hashers squashed in somehow.
Jo and Glenn had laid the hash in the dark on Sunday and guessed there was little hope of any flour remaining. S00000…. watch for checking points and wait for it to be called ( How? When there’s no flour). DON’T go wandering off because if you get lost, Jo definitely is not going to come looking for you!!! (Apparently this has actually happened on one of her hashes).
Most of us set off towards the road only to be called back to the gap in the hedge at the back of the car park.
Across the grassy common any muddy trainers were washed by the long wet grass - ready to be muddied again!
So it’s into King’s Wood I guess. We stumbled and slithered on autumn leaves and roots which I’m sure would be very pretty in daylight.
The first Long /Short Split was called before the first mile had been completed and as the shorties slipped and slid down the hill I realised writing the report might be a bit problematic. Should I have gone medium with a hare? …naahhh, Barney had a map, what could go wrong.
There seemed to be an owl hooting contest going on as we climbed up between fences to the Crown. I seemed to have missed something here, as Alex and owlet Izzy won the TOSCA for their owl hooting skills.
We actually found a few checks and the odd blob of flour (maybe just a couple) but with Rob saying I know where we are and Barney getting his glasses out to check the map, we were fine. Until…. we went wrong. We had passed The Crown and gone across the rec, where the map showed a left and a right. We ended up on a road instead of in the field. Only a slight hiccup which was soon rectified as we arrived in a great shiggy-fest of a ploughed field leading to Widmer End! Thanks Jo and Glenn.
Progress was really slow here as we tried to balance, whilst slipping and sliding. Poor Hector, sporting a very smart fluorescent jacket, was up to his tummy in mud. His legs were protected until one cover came adrift. Izzy wanted to put it back on but Alex wanted to keep going. Back at the pub he was a black and white terrier. Top half and three legs - white; tummy, one leg and paws - black.
This is the first time I’ve actually had wet feet since last Winter so I guess I’ve been lucky and maybe missed some wetter hashes. I’m sure the FRB’s galloped through here splashing everyone they passed with great glee.
The Longs, it seems, did a big loop of Kings Wood, UP to Tylers Green/Penn, then DOWN again, past the bottom of Kingswood Road and along to the alley way leading up to the Crown, following in the footsteps of the Shorts and owl hooters, already having done 2 extra miles .
The Mediums were still with them but I understand from the hare they were permitted a short cut, I think across to Grange Farm. So short and Long made it to Widmer End Tennis club and down the lane to Grange Farm. Going was a bit easier here and those shorties who were cold did a bit of jogging! Wheeyy!
Round Grange farm, round some fields looking for hedgerows to pass through and we heard On On cries as the Longs met us. They were sent packing in the opposite direction to do the loop to Widmer End/ Grange Farm I guess.
There really is a plethora of paths around here and I was very confused but fortunately Barney and Rob were now on auto-pilot we were soon back at the pub. I should mention at one point we were tempted to do the medium short cut but Rob and Barney, our true hashers, led us on-on and on and as they had the map we had to follow. Much appreciated guys.
We all made it back to the pub in time for copious chips and they even turned the music down for Roger to hold the floor with Tosca nominations.
Apologies to the serious guys pondering over their games (what were they playing?) but thanks to Jo and Glenn for a ‘real' hash for what is a hash without shiggy and drizzle!
Quote of the evening “This has been one of the more interesting hashes”.
A man and a pile of mud begin to race...
The mud won by a landslide.
Why did the chicken cross the road, roll in the mud and cross the road again?
Because he was a dirty double-crosser.
Why does my son Richard like playing in the mud?
Because he then becomes filthy Rich.
What do you call a frog stuck in mud?