27,000 years ago The Hambledon Valley was a solid ice sheet. On Tuesday 3rd February, nothing had changed.
After a panicky E mail to Gerry revealed that the run was on and “would be quite beautiful”, I decided to give it a whirl. After all, there was hardly any snow in Bourne End was there. This all changed as Lane End hove into view with the road rapidly deteriorating until at the junction of the B482 and Fingest Lane, whooaa.
The lane looked double dodgy so I lingered in The Peacock car park to join forces with Aud, Tracey and Barney, at the same time watching Simon tiptoe past at a very circumspect 20mph.
After a counsel of war, the SCS decided to go “daan the ‘ill” in convoy with a very brave Tracey mobile leading the way. At The Chequers we encountered a surprising number of other hashers who also liked the idea of risking life and limb.
Gerry called us to order – incidentally I think IGSH should now stand for International Grand Snowball Hasher – and explained that the trail was laid in loo paper ( think it was white which probably explains why I never saw any) (Aside, actually it was cos I took it all down after it had been found, but obviously before Mick got there. Now two loo rolls isn’t much when they are rolled up, but when they are all half frozen and in bits they fill a carrier bag and pockets to overflowing..... however the comments about the Hare trailing used loo paper were both physically impossible and VERY unsanitary!) and, with an ear piercing blast on a whistle, explained the communication rules for the run, all of which revolved around the number of blasts on the said whistle. Very cunning !!
Finally, with some trepidation over not having either skis or snowboards, or indeed Skidoos, we made our way left and then right up a tried and trusted footpath, forking left to skirt Turville Hill.
At the bottom, much mumbling took place about not wanting to go up the north face of The Eiger – also known as the path up to Cobstone Mill. Great relief and some cheering then when the trail was called on down to Turvillle and then, with some doe eyed glances at The Bull and Butcher, straight on up the path that leads to Dolesden.
Two things of note happened here. Firstly Jane declared that she had come in her “big one”. Visions of a Challenger tank immediately sprung forth – but perhaps that’s just me. Secondly, it was here that a great conversation took place between those two learned astronomers, Moose and Ken (you can see someone’s house from here) The Aerial.
Over the years there have been some priceless discussions but I think this one takes the biscuit. In a matter of minutes, the constellations had been rearranged topped off by Moose telling the Icicle Girls that something or other was 4 finger thicknesses from something else. I really must ring up Patrick Moore to see if there are any jobs going on The Sky at Night.
We hung a left, down across pristine snow fields to cross Dolesden Lane and mosy into the woods opposite. This track is well remembered from a particularly hilly run set by Aud and Tracey who, in the manner of all Hares, insisted it was “practically flat”.
On up through woods adorned with snow to Poynatts Farm and then from here, down to meet the road just up from The Frog at Skirmett which we almost got to before, alas unable to get a really good nose full of the beery fumes emanating from the pub, we turned left along a track which led to the foothills of Adam’s Wood.
Barney had already, quite rightly, stated that the only way was up and so, up it was through Adam’s Wood although, in fairness to our Hare (Captain Snowball), after last week’s Sam Vertical Challenge, almost anything feels flatish .
At the top, yubba dubba doo, the long/short split with us shorties running left along a cracking trail through Fingest Wood. We paused at the top to take in the beautiful snow filled panorama before gingerly easing, except for Mike who went down as fast as the speed he shovels down chips, downhill and back to Fingest.
Perhaps our Hare can fill you in on the long run. All I can say is that it looks a very impressive loop through Little Frieth, Mousell’s Wood, up passing Hanover Hill and then down past Hanger farm to come on in past the church.
OK. The long part of the run was the best bit of the hash –downhill or flat all the way, easy paths and some truly stunning views. We headed towards Frieth before doubling back through the pristine and snowy beauty that lay through the trees of Mousell Wood. A long fast downhill to Fingest Lane and a loop round Hanger Farm, with a quick dash past a truly enormous dungheap and the early-Norman tower of the church swam into view. But back to Mick…
After no trouble in getting round, it was in a way a near certainty that the entrance to the pub car park was going to have it’s revenge and I do not think I was alone in nearly Moosing after arriving back in triumph.
In the pub, alas, not only was the kitchen closed but the young lady behind the bar declined to take an order for hot drinks so I suppose that the kettle was also closed. In recompense, the Breakspear’s and Hob Goblin were in good form.
All in all, a cracking run so thanks to Gerry truly the International Grand Snowball Hasher extraordinaire.
PS :- BBC say they don’t want Moose and Ken the Aerial cocking up their astronomy programs !!!