As we all gathered under a dark sky in the car park of the Derehams Arms, it felt as though summer was definitely coming to an end, and torches were once again that extra piece of kit we had to lug around the hash. It had been so nice to be torch-free for a few months, and it had been nice to talk to Graham without temporary blindness.
Tonight’s Hare was Mick and for once Helen and I were early enough to hear the briefing which was along the usual lines. It started with an introduction to our virgin hasher, Jackie, who had been roped in to coming hashing by her Dad John, who had been roped into coming hashing by the GM when he stumbled across him whilst setting a hash some weeks ago. The route included some hills, nettles, horses, mud… so much to look forward to. So without further dilly-dally we set off up the hill. As I forgot to get a map from the the Hare I will have to see what I can remember, and as I don’t generally pay much attention to where we’re going the run description may be quite vague!
There were various fields, woods and muddy paths, horses but thankfully no cows. The shorts peeled off and left the longs trotting off towards Wycombe Heights Golf Course. As we ran past the driving range, being safely shielded from stray balls by a huge fence/netting ensemble, there were of course various chants of “My! What small balls you have”… all very childish but amusing. Our attention though soon turned to the path which had turned very narrow and overgrown with plenty of shiggy to add to the obstacle course. Those wearing shorts came off worse, but even long leggings couldn’t keep the stinging triffids from stinging!
Halfway down this path there was a check, there didn’t seem to be a definitive path to check although Ade decided to have a mooch up small path that led to some undergrowth. It was here that the Moose met his Dear! Or rather nearly moosed thanks to a dear that ran across his path almost taking his knee caps off judging by the yelp that came from Ade, which I’m sure must have put a few golfers off their stroke.
We all arrived safely, albeit with grazed and stinging legs, to a road that led us down to the A40. With the pub not far from where we were and it being quite late in the evening, there were a few groans as the route took us over the road and away from the pub, a few daredevils legged it across the road dodging speeding cars, the sensible ones, stopped traffic at the zebra crossing and meandered across. So off we went on what felt like Phase 2 of the run, to the other side of the valley, along Kingsmead then a left turn up a long steep climb, under the M40 to a regroup at the top. Feeling a sense of hope that from here it must be either flat or down hill, I was not disappointed, as we ran along the top of some woods to join Treadaway Hill. A very pleasant downhill run into Wycombe, slightly marred by a car of yobs shouting obscenities, took us to the A40 again for a short on-inn over the road and to the pub, with a welcome cheer from two girls on a balcony. How nice!
We were assigned an area outside in the pub garden so as not to disturb the pub quiz inside (and give them all the wrong answers) Thankfully it was a dry evening, and we had lovely chips to keep us happy. I think Roger did a speech too (something about the "Oi..." becoming known from now on as an acronym for On-Inn) but it was such a short and sweet speech I think most of us missed it! Thanks Mick for a great hash, probably officially the last one of summer?