The hashers assembled outside the Red Lion on the driest July evening since records began the previous day. Was this to be another of those “I set it on Saturday and it’s all been washed away and I didn’t bring a map” hashes from Audrey’s Wet Enterprises Inc, or had the monsoons held off long enough to give Sam’s flour a chance of actually touching the ground before being blown and rained sideways into the next county?
On-on for a short way down Elm Road, briefly following the route of the Penn 7, before turning right at the Sports ground and heading for the edge of Pugh’s Wood. “Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble and Grub” muttered some of the elderly hashers as we crossed Common Wood Lane and climbed up into Common Wood for the first of many short/long splits. “This is where I set my hash,” said Horsey Helen (Note to Ed – please can you carefully check that spelling) (Ed’s aside Checked it, carefully noting the spelling). “Hash my set I where is this,” agreed Jo, “but backwards”.
A short while later we turned right to run along the last few yards of the now infamous and notorious inaugural Hash Dash (see Trash passim), exchanging brief pleasantries with a gaggle of earnest rambling folk, and then descended through some particularly vicious nettles out of the wood to Gravelly Way and to a check. There was another short/long split. The choice was longs – uphill into Charcole Grove and the woods around Penn House, with some tantalising glimpses of the coming weekend’s Chiltern Way, or shorts – take your life in your hands for a short suicide sprint south along Gravelly Way, around a couple of blind bends, dodge as many of the boy racer PETROLs as you can, and meet up with the longs in the woods.
Now climbing through Penn House Grove (“this is where I set my hash”, said Roger), eventually emerging, after several Backs, onto Horsemoor Lane at Winchmore Hill where Lucy joined in a game of football by nicking the ball and running off with it, much to the alarm of the local youths (Ed’s note – Lucy is Anthony’s dog) (Ed’s aside grrr, woof woof). We ran past the Potters Arms (bring your kids here for Maggie and Dave’s hash on 29 July) and then turned towards Branches Wood, through a field of maturing rape, back downhill past Round Wood to return to Suicide Alley.
There was a Check but the wise monkeys amongst us knew the only way from here was ON-ON-RIGHT as quickly as we could, to the safe sanctuary of Pennhouse Farm.
Another short/long split through Brook Wood (“this is where we set our hash”, said Helen and Oj) before a long, gentle ascent towards Puttenham Place Farm. We could smell the beer from here, but that cunning hare Sam had a final joker to play. He sent the longs left and downhill, in the opposite direction from the Red Lion, before turning us alongside Twichel's Wood, up to Church Road, and then back to Puttenham Place Farm. The shorts were long gone by now.
A very welcome Onn Inn soon saw us all basking in the remaining evening sunshine outside the Red Lion, enjoying generously full bowls of freshly made crisps. “My son is the chef here and he made the chips”, announced Sam. Wow, we all thought, this is nice, they’ll be bringing out some chips as well. Then it dawned us, Sam is not of these lands, and we had already eaten the fruits of his son’s labours.
Thanks Sam for a fun and fast hash, and thanks for the crisps too. Eh, I mean, chips.