“The path is on the right! The path is on the right!” So cried Crab, as the Hash stumbled across a 5m strip of land with a swing in the middle. Presumably the owners of the nearby house were hoping people would keep off the grass. Needless to say, many of us hashers are attuned to shortcuts and just ran the few yards straight to the next gate.
Earlier, we had left the car park in Princes Risborough near the floodlit church. Unlike the hash two weeks ago which was urban, and the hash one week ago that was rural, this hash could be called “rurban”. We started out through the residential areas of Princes Risborough, and after a mile found ourselves in a field, with a great view of the church. In fact the whole hash seemed to be a clockwise circumnavigation of Risborough, with the church always in sight on the right.
The longs were actually running a little too fast for me, and after a couple of miles they were forced to slow down when they caught up with the shorts. This was great for catching your breath, but I found it is all too easy to suddenly find yourself going short, with the longs disappearing in the distance.
We seemed to cross the same railway line quite a few times, but looking at the map there are actually two lines heading out of Risborough, one to Bicester, the other to Aylesbury. Very confusing at the time, but makes sense now.
After another rendezvous with the shorts, the longs were sent off on a final extra loop. Up till now the run had been pretty flat, but this hash had a sting in its tail. After leaving Mill Lane, we were directed up the hill in Peters Lane towards Whiteleaf Cross. Luckily we turned right halfway up and ran down Upper Icknield Way back towards the church, into town and the On Inn.
Back in the car park, the thirsty longs headed for the pub. Craving a drink, the longs were faced by the shorts on the right scoffing chips, and a bar on the left with no-one on the other side. Where was the barmaid? Why isn’t anyone serving us beer? We soon saw the reason for the lack of service. The barmaid was busy satisfying the hash’s growing insatiable hunger for more and more chips.
After what seemed a lifetime and an apology from the barmaid, we finally got to quench our thirst with a choice of Sharps Atlantic and Doom Bar, together with a very quaffable citrusy beer whose name I have forgotten. There was even a chip or two for the longs to help wash the beer down.
Many thanks to Barney for a great hash and—eventually—beer and chips.
Three football teams (Arsenal, Liverpool, and Hartlepool United) are flying from England across Egypt for a match in the Middle East. Their plane crashes in the desert and they survive. After days of wandering, they are really hungry so when they come across a camel, the footballers decide to kill it and eat it.
The Liverpool team says, "Because we play for Liverpool, will we eat the liver."
The Hartlepool players decide, "Because we play for Hartlepool, we will eat the heart."
Arsenal says, "I think we might go hungry…"