This Tuesday I left home promptly at 7:15 thinking that Seer Green was some considerable distance away.
At 7:30 I reached my destination and remembered that the last time we had run from here I had taken a wrong turn up Bottom Lane and gone mildly astray. However, arriving early did have its advantages as nearby parking was in limited supply, as the late comers found to their cost.
The early birds congregated in the road next to the church, which is quite a natural thing for a congregation to do, but did have the additional hazard of avoiding the local commuters rushing homewards. Eventually wiser council prevailed and we transformed ourselves into a rowdy gang in the pub car park where the hare waited impatiently.
Welcome to two virgin hashers. Jaques (who was visiting from Switzerland) and Mark (son of Graham). Mark it transpired has inherited his father’s genetic trait of falling of his bike and injuring himself (wired up jaw and other grisly stuff).
As it was not raining, we accepted the Hare’s (Dan L by the way) hint and trotted off along Church Lane and thence north along Chalfont Road. Not for long though, as we soon doubled back on ourselves before heading out NW again, but this time across the green fields of SG16.
Willow court stables was visible off to the left. It was evident from plethera of equine droppings on the ground that we were in prime horse territory. Not a herd of stampeding testosterone fuelled bullocks in sight. Still on the flat we turned right towards Twitchells Lane.
This brought back memories for Sooper and I. On our last outing around here the Hash had split up and gotten lost. Twitchells Lane was part of our very long detour to recover that particular trail.
A right/left combo got us to the fields again, passing Twitchells End to our right. I don’t recall seeing this house but for those who marveled at the architecture at the time, here it is again.
Having crossed Twitchells Lane, we automatically entered Jordans. Apart from also having lots of horses around, Wikipedia says it is the home of Ozzy Osbourne. Seems rather ironic that a Quaker (teetotal) village should be his chosen residence. Also, horse and Osbourne usually has a different connotation.
Right towards Grove Farm and middle wood following a shallow valley. Up on the brow silhouetted by the sun, three horses looked down, all alert, ears pointed heavenwards. It felt like a scene from a film where the (red) indians are waiting to pounce. Hash runs faster and makes it safely back into the centre of Jordans.
South to the Mayflower barn then immediately back up the road again. It is rumoured that some of the barn is built from oak recovered from the original Mayflower that took the pilgrims to the Americas. I wonder if Dan felt this subliminal pull when determining his route?
Through the heart of Jordans to Wilton Lane where we bade farewell to the SC. They headed straight back to Seer Green (where drink is still sold) whereas we headed south. Even Jo noticed how fast and how easily we were running. Were we all feeling fitter? Maybe, but eventually we decided that gravity was abetting our charge after downhill was replaced by uphill.
Seer Green station was followed by the even more exclusive Beaconsfield Golf Course. Fortunately, light stopped play so it was relatively safe for us to cross the greens. Once up the only way is down. Back to Longbottom Lane, where the only way was up along a narrow path passing behind rather grand houses.
Pop. We popped out into a housing estate where Ade could exercise his lungs and attempt to lower property values (again). Wiggle, wiggle, on-inn.
Being a dry and warm evening, we took over the garden. There we found a steady stream of innkeeper’s assistants going from kitchen to our tables carrying plate after plate of welcome and tasty morsels. We rose to the challenge and made sure not of it went to waste.
It was very generous of you Dan. Thanks from us all for the food and the well-crafted Hash trail.