Tuesday morning, check website for tonight’s location. Ibstone hum! Could be hilly, the contours on the ordinance survey map for the Ibstone resemble a bowl of spaghetti, check hare Ken! Definitely will be hilly, mental note to self. Pack crampons, carabineers; rope and oxygen bottle. Check weather forecast, height of a typical British summer, chucking it down.
The now web footed hashers gathered at a very posh looking pub The fox, (mental note to self No. 2 should also have packed, lounge suit.) Ken now dried out after setting the hash, early that day explained the usual rules and pointed out the route was marked with a mixture of flour and rice! Not sure that rice is a good idea with all the rain this summer, it’s bound sure to start growing. Ken will single handled be held responsible for, The Hambleden Valley being covered in terraced paddy fields.
Once the On-On had been called, Twist felt compelled to mark the trail in his now traditional style 100m out from the start, much to the distress of Jo, who is now havening to under psychiatric counselling to cope with the stress. It’s probably just as well; Jo was not involved in Rogers conversion, regarding the various merits of animal bowel movements. Apparently a cat’s digestive system is relatively inefficient, leavening there waste product’s, nutrient rich, which is why dogs like to eat them. Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Roger, but I think it might only be your dog which has a taste for these particular delicacies; most other dogs are just content to roll in it.
Once the route left the Ibstone road it went down passed Cholsey Grange to Penley Wood, before the inevitable, uphill to Studdridge Farm. The pre-hash talk had warned that there might not be too much flour/rice, to find, but there seemed to be plenty of the white stuff, to mark the route well.
Back on top of the Ibstone Road ridge, there could only be one way to go and that’s down, down through Bowley’s wood to Wellground Farm and on to one of the Getty estate road’s, which gave us a short respite from the hills. After crossing, the Chiltern Way, with a bit more descent; through Hale Wood, I did an unimpressive moose but with a particularly spectacular 4m slide - and I still bear the scars to prove it.
The steepest accent was saved for last, a torturous climb through Great Wood, up onto Ibstone Common, a 100m climb, but only 300m from the pub.
Back in the Fox we were treated to chips, which must have been deep fried in white truffle oil, for what Ken had to fork out for them, but very much appreciated.
Many thanks, Ken for a great run. Sorry that my rambling has not done it justice.