After several weeks feeling wretched, Sunday dawned and I felt 75% a human being again. Why not recover the other 25% by a gentle drive to the Hash and an amble around the trail? Not to be, at 10.22 when well on the way, a call from Lord Raleigh [he is not good with mobiles!] with a request for a pick-up at Guildford. So, a diversion and now we were running late. At the start a smiling GM announced that it was my turn to do the write-up. I didn’t know there was a queue!  What with end of year Hash accounts and 50th finances/refunds to sort out this is not what I wanted, but I complied, sucker! 

A small number of hashers were ready for the off, not even a Baker’s Dozen worth, with surprisingly no fast front runners present. But Chastity Belt and Bolshie were willing checkers and even the three octogenarians did their share of seeking out the trail. A trail with seemingly every hill in Surrey crowded into our area with our trail leading up each and every one of them. The checks were numerous the flour not so, with some long stretches between blobs.  Fortunately, Bonn Bugle accompanied us but even she was flummoxed at some junctions with frequent referrals to her mobile for help with direction. The trail led through woodland with numerous directional changes down half-trodden paths, all very pleasing, taken at a steady brisk walk with our little band keeping in touch with each other. Two short cuts were ignored and there was the novelty of checking, usually done by our fast front runners long before the walkers ever reach the check. As remarked by Chunderos, perhaps this is the way to do future Hashes!?

Just over four miles, absolutely no tarmac and FRB claiming this was our first run from this location. Perhaps true, but we have used the area several times.

At the circle our two hares bribed us with a scrumptious chocolate cake made by Bisley Babe. Late-comers and much missed, Greenpeace and Abba, joined us and stand in RA, Chunderos picked out Chastity Belt, His Knees, Master Bates, Bolshie and our GM as sinners.

There was the sad announcement that Chipmonk had died over the weekend. A very long-term hasher, a colourful character who deserves a colourful send-off whenever that will be.

The On Inn at the Pine Ridge Golf Club had a vast bar with loads of room for the hash, a mind-boggling selection of lagers, a Guinness on tap but absolutely no ale. As usual the conversation was on all subjects under the sun but mostly what a topsy turvy world we now live in… but whatever the outcome… just keep hashing!! 

  On On,

J Arthur