[Please note that any similarity to Kenny Rogers' The Gambler is coincidental.]
On a warm summer's evening at a pub called the Dumb Bell
We were regaled with stories of Alan's cycling feat
After 24 hours he was third on the fat bikes
Over 200 others at Mountain Mayhem did he beat.
And Dick also placed well at the weekend for the hardy
Down in Gloucestershire climbing many thousand feet.
Then at 3pm on the run day both Alan and Sandra
With ample flour did the hashing trail complete.
You've got to know when to go long, know when to go short,
Know when to pretend to run when someone's looking on.
Don't count the money when Barney's passed the bowl round
There'll be time enough for counting when the t-shirts are done.
Alan told us 6 miles for longs and 3 point 5
For short was the distance; so all went down Shire Lane.
Soon to come to a right turn down Chalfont Common
Past nettles Alan hadn't got to, causing us much pain.
Down in the the valley where the River Misbourne meanders
Paul could almost see his house from there, but no Ken to sing.
Barney told me 6 miles is very long so I opted for the shorts
Only to see him go long, his advice contradicting.
You've got to know when to run up hills, know when to walk up,
Know when to send a half back and get an extra one.
Know when 'giving the map to Mike' is only a figure of speech.
There'll be time enough for map-reading when the hash is done.
The walkers arrived just before 9, followed by us shorties
The longs went hell for leather, got nettled by the end.
The pizza was the cat's whiskers, with an old-style curry flavour.
As we sat outside, Roger did the non-hashers befriend.
He presented a tankard for 350 runs
To both Mike and Judy, with a poem engraved there.
It had been a good longest hashing day, so thanks Alan and Sandra.
Here here to the hare, and here here to the co-hare.