As we gathered in the carpark the merry babble of Hash voices announced that it was both far cooler than the past few months and also raining, albeit very gently. Nothing quite like a hash for stimulating comment and breaking news is there! The gathered crowd was a large one – with 50 or more people turning up for each of the last several hashes.
Mike, the excited (or do mean excitable?) half of the double-hare team announced that the routes were either six or just over four miles long and both were completely flat, which, much to our surprise turned out to be true. He also introduced two new symbols – an exclamation mark (I never did find out what it was for) and a pair of handcuffs (which for some reason meant that there were horses about).
We were also told that there was blob of flour every twenty paces except in the place(s) where Mike became distracted and forgot what he was doing.
The fact that the hare also told us that the trail started by turning right out of the carpark did not prevent some of the more directionally challenged hashers from checking left (Aside, this is actually a symptom of parietal lobe dysfunction, Dyspraxia, alcohol or being a hasher).
To preserve their right to privacy I will not mention who they were (but if Andy or Ant look sheepish when they read this you will know why).
Three hundred yards later as we crossed St George’s field the hash decided to go the wrong way, lost the trail and had to be recovered by the simple expedient of the hare shouting very loudly at everyone.
We headed south west through the outskirts of Amersham until we split with the shortcutters (who then went off to run around the outskirts of Little Chalfont, according to the map the hares gave to me later). The long cutters took a detour via some pleasantly open countryside before they too ended up in Chalfont.
Q: What did the policeman say to his tummy button? A: You're under a vest!
The longs joined and re-left the short trail until, amongst some confusion in Lane Wood, we found a false trail pointing back where we had come from - it later turned out that the hares had spotted what they had thought was rogue flour in the wood and had marked it so the short cutters didn’t go wrong. It was only when I asked them about it in the pub that they realised that the “rogue flour” they had found was actually the flour they laid themselves when they set the long run!
Why does Norwegian navy put bar codes on the side of their ships? So that when they return to port thy can Scan-da-navy-in!
A quick jog (well it seemed quick to me) up to the railway bridge north of Quill Hall farm and we turned south-west and back in the direction of civilisation in general and the pub in particular.
The rest of the run was relatively normal, very flat and quite pleasant, becoming more so as we eventually caught a whiff of the beer and realised the on-inn would be soon. Mike & Judy, however, seem to have found numerous footpaths that I never knew existed through this part of the town, several of which seem to involve on-backs.
The weird thing about Trump’s Presidency is that for the first time ever I actually hope that there really is a shadowy cabal deep within the US government dedicated to undermining the democratically elected leader.
In, or rather outside the bar Roger made his speech and announced the Tosca/ Magnito winner (Does know the relevance of Magneto or is it just a function of Roger’s unusually wired brain?). This month’s award for hashing went to Conehead for forgetting his trainers and running in sandals. There were several honourable mentions – but these were sadly drowned out by the crowd.