Velcro & Dormouse’s directions to the start seemed unnecessary complicated, the only tricky bit was how to get across the racetrack from Tattenham Corner to the car park. Of course, the ‘know- alls’  knew the way because we have been here several times before. Furlong 7 car park is vast and surprisingly, free to park. Most hashers parked neatly around the perimeter where there were plenty of spaces. Chastity Belt wanted to be different and parked slap bang in the middle, ‘hoping to set a trend’ she said. As well as being the highest point on Epsom Downs [at around 500 feet], the car park on Sunday was the windiest, blowing half a gale from the Northeast.

  Not seen for several years ex SH3 hasher, Invisible, reappeared on a tri motor bike. His comment to me was it was a rather small pack and there were a lot of walking sticks, he can talk! He declined to join us on the run and was not visible at the bucket.

  However, by the time the GM gave the off the pack had swelled to reasonable numbers and we were soon stumped for several minutes at the first check. Solved eventually by Chastity Belt. Now this is well hashed territory and limited by roads and development on four sides so much of the trail was not new.  But the hares had laid an anticlockwise trail with many twists and turns and sneaky checks so that it did seem unfamiliar. Most of the front running and checking was by Atalanta, Slip & Slide and Chastity Belt with an occasional help solving checks from the back markers, a novel experience made possible by the absence of Big Foot, our ace trail finder.

  The trail had to and did, take us through Langley Vale Wood, one of four First World War centenary woods created by the Woodland Trust. The area was an army training ground in the FWW and there were pictures of that and sculptures representing the 6K sailors who died in the Battle of Jutland and the 20k soldiers and volunteers who lined up at dawn in 1915, in a snowstorm, to be inspected by Kitchener who didn’t turn up until 11.00am!

  The Hares had laid a short cut and by good timing, those on it rejoined the front runners about threequarters round the trail. Another short cut was marked towards the end after a sign warning of charging horses, but whichever way was chosen it was a slog uphill back to the bucket.

  At the bucket, Tiller and his partner Isobel presided over a diminished audience for drinks as the beer drinkers were queuing up behind the Bongo which was groaning under the weight of left over beer from the last Beer Fest attended by Teq, some of which was just drinkable?!

  At the circle U G called in visitors and returnees and amongst the latter was Petal who despite being busy stirring up trouble in France and elsewhere, managed to keep the Runday Shag in copy over the past few weeks.

  The RA, as usual managed to weave a tale with his chosen sinners about our souls when we [maybe?] end up in Heaven. The analogy is that our souls are clocks and every time we lie the clock moves one minute past midnight. So, Mahatma Gandhi and the Popes for instance may have a couple of minutes added, if any, politicians a lot, Boris all the way to 07.30, but he is not in Heaven yet and is still ‘clocking’! Being slightly deaf, I missed the punch line [Ed: Kier Starmer’s clock was spinning], but Atty came away from the circle muttering ‘I don’t get it’.

  The On Inn was at the Tattenham Corner pub, just a few minutes away from the run with a sunny terrace and a great view over the racecourse. Machinist however decided that we should all be inside, so we duly obeyed and spent a pleasant hour or so with ale, wine, chips and friendly chat, all after a cracking trail of thirty-six Furlongs, a perfect hash Sunday.

  On On,
  J Arthur