The hare should not stand on a path calling loudly “On On!” merely to entice runners to a dead end (in her words; the more usual term is false trail).  As it happens only 4 of us heeded her siren calls; Missing in Action was fast enough despite this absurdity to catch up with the pack, though first she led CL and myself the wrong way on flour, which the hare had laid to help short-cutters from a much earlier check.  We are not as nimble as she, and thereafter he and I short cut with some success. Oh, we did end up back on flour; how much had we omitted?  The fourth was Petal, who soldiered on after “Dead End” only to find a second “Dead End”, but was wiser than we and got home before us.  He had (wrongly) marked the last check, and so saved us the run-in on tarmac, of which the trail had already included only too much.

  We found only Atalanta and Sir Ray at the beer, other than the usual cluster of non-runners, Lord Raleigh among them, though he had missed the start when his train was cancelled.  Where were the pack, if two front runners were in? Well, Ratty and Red Eye were there, as living near by, thus providing company for my brother-in-law, no runner himself.  He and I left before I ever found where the real pack had got to.  I should mention the valiant contributions today put in by Veggie Queen and Doug (whose memory of previous trails is first class).

  I should emphasise that One In The Eye is a valuable member of our community, an excellent and assiduous runner.  I assume she had not run previous trails from this start [Ed – see below!]; perhaps we should have a rule requiring hares who choose a well-hashed venue to look up reports, which are always accompanied by a map of the trail.  That would avoid anything so repetitious as today: down through the golf course to the quarry, carry on to the motorway, turn south…….  Exactly what the last few hares here had done. I do recall one who took us south from the start; now that was original, in terrain we had seldom run; perhaps in those far-off days when trails began from the pub?  We have been hashing from Bletchingley for decades.

  Aged 7 or 8 I played in the streets with neighbouring children.  Our parents were not involved; there were no introductions or supervision.  I cannot remember many organised or recognised games with rules, though this was 80 years ago and I may have forgotten; we just improvised activities, notably in bomb sites – the war was still raging.  If we had hierarchies I have forgotten them; everything was spontaneous.  Children have entirely lost this cluster of acquaintances, this natural congregation in the streets, which their parents teach them to regard as dangerous and suspicious.  My twin sisters travelled several miles to school quite unaccompanied on buses, aged 6 or less.  Consider how the world has altered since then!  Playing in the street is unknown; too much traffic, a fear of paedophiles (then unknown to most people).  Oddly, social mobility was then almost impossible (well, upward mobility; even now no one discusses downward mobility) though we street urchins ignored hierarchies and social distinctions.  Accents were not noticed (we were in Whitley Bay, so I take it most were Geordies), though there must have been dominant personalities; certainly not mine, though I do not recall being in awe of anyone.  Autres temps, autres mœurs.

  On On, FRB