A relatively small pack gathered in chilly but sunny weather in a suburban housing estate; no car park, only estate roads, and we hoped that our parking didn’t upset the residents. [Ed: The eastern chapter was marking the passing of Dynorod of OCH3]  No sign of flour yet, and all the pre-run chat seemed focussed on King Wally’s Deepcut Hash run on the previous Wednesday, where he lost the pack [again]. For being noisy while we waited, our GM asked HRH Wally to bend over, which left me a bit concerned, and I had to avert my gaze. Wally to his credit obediently did so – that’s schooling for you.

  Our rather tired-looking hare – Petal, sans lazy Raffles – appeared, and dropped a splodge of flour. So we were in the right place after all. Excuses began immediately, ‘I set off a bit late (giggle), and the run’s a bit of a problem’. Oh dear, and a hare with all that experience too.

  As is the habit these days, our GM set us off early (1 minute), but we were cold, and needed to pump some warming blood around. Wally shot off confidently and we foolishly followed as he led us the wrong way. Quickly corrected we were soon into woodland on the north-eastern edge of Virginia Water (the lake). Did you know that based on the Roman historian Tacitus’s description of the showdown AD60/61 Roman battle with Boudica, that it was thought to have taken place in Virginia Water – near the railway station  [they had trains then?] (Italy 1 – England 0). There were lots of posh rich people out walking their dogs, and we were upsetting their Sunday morning stroll with our raucous calling, in the never-ending search for our lost doggy called ‘On-On’. Petal did ask that our hash calls be done quietly so as not to upset the upper class locals, and he said his trail was set discretely to encourage this. In the 2015 Land Registry, Virginia Water was singled out as the postcode with the most expensive homes nationwide.

  Heading around the totem pole of Virginia Water, the pack was reasonably together, but not for long in this land of multi-coloured rhododendron and azaleas (which incidentally are also rhododendrons). Checks were broken quickly thereafter on firm easy-running terrain, creating what is known in hash-speak as a runners’ run. In the main, trails were along clear and wide tracks, when hidden smaller trails in wooded areas may have slowed the FRBs a bit more [you missed a couple out then?].

  Unknowingly, the front four (Maddie, Ms Bean, Sophie and Bigfoot) stretched further and further away from the pack as a result, finishing the run in just 53 minutes. I think mid-pack recorded around 8km, but I recall Ms Bean saying she had 11km on her GPS watch – I think [should be 9km without checks]. A speedy run for that distance, and an indication as to how quickly checks were broken. It was a good 10 minutes after the four FRBs had finished when number 5 came in (RHUM). With no appointed checking chicken, this had also spread the pack, as mid-pack had trouble re-breaking checks, even though the check circles were rubbed through in the approximate direction of travel.

  The ‘figure of 8’ trail brought us to our finish point, denoted by a table of beers guarded by Tiller, about half a mile from where the cars were parked. With no warm clothes to change into, some of us lightly dressed hashers were somewhat chilled, as we waited to begin our Circle. No sign of our GM (who was in the pub) meant we had to rely on returnee Ms Bean to take over. We quickly moved on to RA Belcher, who was also in no mood to hang around.  Bonn B and Hans der Schwanz were called up as returnees, MIA for ??, Petal for something about Chunderos juggling some body parts or similar. And that was it.

  We then shivered our way back to the cars and retired to The Happy Man pub, where a good selection of beers were on display, and roast lunch was relatively cheap at £13, selected as a proper community boozer, apparently, but some deserted the hash in favour of a gastro-pub elsewhere.

  Talking of happy men, not long before we departed, Lord Raleigh showed up. He was in his usual upbeat mood, despite the extensive journey he had made on public transport to get there. He had a young man with him (‘oh young man’) who I assumed when he came through the door, must be a young relation. But no, this lad who works at Longcross Studios had met LR on his journey and decided to help him along his way. He was then duly introduced to all the remaining dregs – and probably got a beer for his kind gesture. I’m sure you will see him in the Dregs photo. BF and MIA left at that point since we were on our way to the New Forest Sandy Balls trip, a day early. But that is another story.

  On on
  Bigfoot