As we forgathered in the car park of what was to be the first hash of the year to start in the light, a feeling of dread came over us as the Hare announced that the pub had no beer! Shock! Remembering a previous time when the (same) pub had had no beer, the feeling of dread moved towards gloom, doom and disaster. I thought of Tsutomu Yamaguchi – who was on a business trip to Hiroshima in 1945 when the bomb was dropped. After a short stay in hospital he returned to his home town of Nagasaki … just in time to get caught again! I am sure you can see the emotional parallel.
But then I heard that there might still be hope, after all Tsutomu is 93 and still alive - and Dan said that he had negotiated with the pub – which had changed hands just the day before, and they had agreed to feed our souls (or after running do I mean soles?) with beer! Hooray! And in the end he even negotiated a bounteous feast!
But back to the run. We set off toward Ongar Farm, famed principally for being nowhere near Ongar, a fact which many people believe is worthy of celebration in itself. A left into the field and we were off again towards Great Luckings Wood. As luck would have it, at least for the shortcutters, the route split and they missed the excitement of Dan getting the whole long-cutter part of the hash lost a little later.
But, unlike when running the hash, I get ahead of myself. A narrow and very rutted path saw the best moose of the evening with Dick scoring several agility points by somehow managing to stay upright despite Phil’s valiant attempt to bring him down whilst performing a high scoring twisting moose with extra grabbing and flailing.
On into Brown’s Wood where Chris’s contact lens did an about face. Seeing him in pain and trouble Jo’s deep and heartfelt, womanly compassion came to the fore with a quick “See-ya” as she ran on past to steal his place in the running order.
Now Dan maintains that the hash got lost as he was deeply involved in an intense cultural discussion with two of the Hash’s notable sirens – so he just didn’t see the check as he ran on past it. Or did he say he couldn’t hear what he was doing ‘cos of all the wailing they were making? Well it was something to do with sirens anyway.
A swift left on the wrong path took us to a place we weren’t meant to be – but gave us the chance of an interesting chat about white fungus that looks like flour, and gave Simon the chance to use his much loved “But he was a fun guy” joke – which the pack treasures every time he uses it.
Down by South Lodge, which may or may not be related to Chris & Helen, and taking our lives in our hands we crossed the main road, with a kind motorist actually stopping to let two hashers cross - they had obviously been mesmerised by the gleam of his headlights.
On to Blue Close Wood, which, as I was getting tired by this time, seemed more like Blue and-way-over-in-the-distance-Wood, where a left turn sent us in the direction of home.
The pace, already quick, seemed to hot up somewhat and we headed along Rawlings Lane, through Highfield Grove and on to the delightful, and thankfully downhill, end section and the on-in.
Much jollity in the pub including the Tosca to Jane for her “Long-cut-from-hell” route. Also there were T shirts for Roz (150 runs), Simon (300 runs) and Aud (an impressive 400). But most impressive of all was Dan’s magnificent fish ’n chips spread – Many Thanks, great hash.
Epilogue: Brownie points also go to trencherman Mike for smartly finding the only seat from where he could stuff himself from every plate without moving. He wasn’t seen again until the repast was cleared (mainly by him).
