The Beech Tree at Terriers is one of those pubs that you drive by in the week and think ‘I wish I was sitting in the garden, sipping a pint.’ Come to think of it, a lot of pubs seem to have that effect on me lately... Anyway, The Beech Tree was Maggie’s choice for the Tuesday hash.
A huge throng of would be hashers assembled in the car park (a total of 41 according to Gerry) to hear Maggie’s pre hash chat.
Maggie complained that she was knackered having spent 2 ½ hours setting the Hash. A hares life is not an easy one; as I had discovered only the previous week, when Otto the dog, who had gamely agreed to accompany me on setting my hash, had run onto the green at the 9th hole of Coombe Hill golf club and nicked one of the balls from the middle of a ladies match! I was tempted to stop and explain to them that in fact, nearly all dogs are born out of wedlock, but in the end we decided to leg it, throwing the ball back over my shoulder as we ran, but I digress! back to the Hash.
Armed with information on distances for the long and short runs, we set off over the A404 towards Wellesborne. (Why anybody ever bothers to ask for this information is beyond me, surely we all know that it’s the Hare’s duty to lie through their teeth).
The Hash strung out and zigzagged it’s way across the fields, heading in the general direction of Widmer End. Ade was seen running in what was obviously the wrong direction, but I think he was looking for somewhere to go for a pee. Unfortunately, several other runners were intent on following him.
After numerous on-backs and a re-group, we almost eventually emerged at Hazlemere cross roads, only to double back into the fields, finally arriving at the church on the A404.
We crossed the main road, and the hopes of those who had wanted a flat run were cruelly dashed as we began a long descent into Kings woods, arriving eventually at the long/short split. Where the shorties went, I’m not sure, but the long cutters were now forced to climb back out of the hole in the woods, up a long steep grade (which I walked). Here, Helen was made to do her own special on-back, marked H, which Maggie had promised at the start. Wearing down Helens stamina seems to be something that several Hashers (ladies) had turned their attention to. (Well, she is annoyingly fit).
Down, down, down we plunged and my suspicions as to our whereabouts were confirmed at the bottom, when the houses of Micklefield estate could be seen through the trees. Not for us however, as we began a lung-busting climb up a wooded path towards Totteridge, where several with alcoholic intentions spotted the Dolphin pub, but no amount of positive thinking could turn it into The Beech Tree, so on we ran back into the woods.
Several on-backs later, and I found myself uncharacteristically at the front of the pack, not for long, however, as another on-back threw me to the rear, where I belong.
Eventually, the Hash popped out of the wood onto Totteridge common, and the dash to be first back to the pub began. The On Inn confirmed that we were almost there.
It’s always interesting to watch the run in, as Hash rule 17.B subsection II prohibits racing, so FRBs began to accidentally break into a casual sprint at this point, and adopt that well known, ‘Of course I’m not really trying’ facial expression. Being at the back of the pack, I’m not sure who managed to triumph in this deception.
Anyway Maggie, a good Hash, well set and overseen, and not a bad pub either.
